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lambden · 1 year

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oops here’s an accidental follow up to 2021’s valdskier fill for ‘mending clothing’ 😅 now with 150% more pining valdo and 500% more sexual tension! also i’m sorry for paraphrasing and bastardizing sarah dessen, elvis costello, shakespeare, greek mythos, the bible, etc etc… i have no excuse except that valdo minorly possessed me

@whataboutthebard november 7 prompts: taking off clothing, mending clothing

M, 2.4K words, valdo/jaskier (slightly unrequited), background geraskier (ooo we love pain)

The stinger sneaks out between thick slabs of wood meant for keeping in noise and warmth and keeping out light and sobriety, and as the chord hits Valdo’s eardrums, his traitorous heart swells. On this Continent committed to tearing itself apart, there are only a few masters of his craft left standing. Valdo has studied, loved, or taught them all— and unless his ears deceive him, he thinks he might have caught wind of the one person who fits into all three of those categories.

And he has perfect pitch.

He enters the tavern just as tonight’s entertainment is ushered off-stage to some back private room, and thus only catches a glimpse of a coat far too ugly to house the man he knows. But Valdo trusts his gut; he doesn’t order a drink, instead brushing past the barkeep with grandiose excuses of bardic solidarity. The door to the back room swings open slowly onto a narrow staircase, and when Valdo ascends it he finds an equally narrow room awaiting at the top.

There, standing amidst— are they his band? They must be his band, although their dirty attire and sallow faces separates them greatly from anyone Jaskier would have played with at Cintra or Oxenfurt— a small group of cloaked, wide-eyed strangers, is his equal, his rival, and though admit it he will never, his muse. Jaskier’s mousy hair hangs long around his chin, and his coat is really, truly dreadful. Even more upsetting than his garb is the dismay he wears on his brow and frown, and the fervour in his voice when he stammers, “Valdo— what the fuck are you— you can’t be seen here!”

Valdo’s gaze sweeps over the local chaff. If these are the best musicians that this backwater town has to offer, he doesn’t think he’s got much to worry about. He scoffs, raising his palm to the other bard and keeping his tone as peremptory as he can. “Calm down, Pankratz. I rented a suite close by; no one will pay us any attention there.”

Jaskier twists to exchange some complex look with one of his compatriots; the man’s hood casts most of his face in shadow, but the whites of his eyes shine as he nods. Still flustered, Jaskier turns to Valdo and he nods too, albeit much less certainly. Although Valdo cannot say he understands the need for such dramatics, he respects them anyway, making sure the door slams shut between them on his way back down the stairs.

He doesn’t bother glancing behind him the entire journey to his suite, only pausing at one corner before hurrying into the crowded town square. Valdo half-expects his tail to abandon him in the rabble, but when he makes it to his inn and nods to the innkeep, he sees her nod to someone behind him as well.

Disguising his smile as best he can, Valdo leads Jaskier through the winding hallways to his rented room. It reminds him a bit of a classic tale they would have both studied at Oxenfurt. Only in this story, when the door to his room swings shut behind them both and he turns to finally see Jaskier, neither of them are struck down by the gods or turned instantly to salt. Jaskier stares, his gaze as arrestingly bright as always, and Valdo swallows his smile so aggressively that he’s sure he looks quite sour.

Then in the same instant, they both ignite:

“Why in the bloody fucking fuck are you here?”

“Really, Jaskier, I know that your voice isn’t what it used to be, but there’s no point in retiring— why am I here? Why the fuck are you here—”

“Retiring! I’m sorry, perhaps you were too late and missed my sold-out show—”

“A sold-out show in a backwater hovel, my, how will I ever overcome my jealousy—”

“I haven’t heard of any of your shows selling out in over a; well, no, make that ever—”

“Some of us are less concerned with finances and more interested in honing our craft—”

“Oh, I bet you and your fucking craft have spent some nice long winters together, just honing it up—”

“At least I find my inspiration without having to step around piles of horse shit all year long,” Valdo sneers back. “Tell me, darling, how is the muse?”

He fully expects Jaskier to bite back, and when no rejoinder comes, a new and unwelcome shudder runs up Valdo’s spine. The other bard looks as though Valdo has slapped him, his usually brilliant eyes lowered to reflect nothing. Duller than Valdo has ever heard him, Jaskier mutters, “What the fuck do you want, Valdo?”

“I want my greatest rival back,” Valdo answers without thinking. Last time he was brutally, unreservedly honest, it had thrown Jaskier for a loop. He expects the same quick turn this time, and for Jaskier to embrace their regular dynamic. When Jaskier doesn’t even glance up, the pit in his stomach only grows. “I… well… You haven’t been to many conferences or competitions as of late!”

Heaving a gentle but tremendous sigh, Jaskier still doesn’t meet his gaze. “There are more important things in the world than music.”

“No,” Valdo dismisses without hesitation. “Music is the great uniter. Something that people who differ on everything and anything else can have in common. A song may not be able to change your mind, but it can infiltrate your heart, and the heart could change your mind.”

When he finishes the quote, Jaskier is finally watching him. But in his expression is a funny sort of bemusement that makes Valdo’s heart race slightly faster; panic, no doubt. “You read my thesis.”

“Had to keep myself entertained somehow,” Valdo mutters, instead of the sore, ugly truth: that he read it as soon as it was published, and his intent had been to decry it to all who would listen. But instead, he had found it frustratingly genius.

“Valéry, I don’t know what you want from me,” pleads Jaskier.

“Well...” A plethora of ideas come to mind, but only one of them is stupid enough to maybe actually work. Truth be told, he hadn’t given the rumours of Jaskier’s residency in this town enough credence to really think this plan through. But where logic fails, perhaps nostalgia will suffice. He soldiers on: “I’ve torn a hole in one of my very favourite articles of clothing. Perhaps you could mend it for me.”

Jaskier stares, unimpressed. This part went smoother last time. “You know, there are plenty of fine tailors.”

“Of course,” Valdo lifts his chin proudly, bracing himself. “But I find myself hesitant to trust just anyone with this sensitive matter.”

With that, he removes his trousers, which are free of any runs or loose seams or frayed threads. Then Valdo takes a heavy inhale before stripping out of his smallclothes, pulling them down his thighs and around his knees. There is a small hole of fabric missing at the crotch, worn away after years of use. But otherwise his smalls are clean, if slightly sweaty from the journey to fetch Jaskier.

He drops them to the floor, and scoops them up with one hand. Jaskier stares, quite shamelessly, at what Valdo’s garments were previously adorning. Valdo doesn’t move to cover himself, but he does clear his throat expectantly, breaking the silence between them. “That is, unless you have more urgent plans. I’m sure that witcher keeps you on a busy schedule.”

“No,” Jaskier chokes out, finally glancing away from Valdo’s prick and crossing the room in only a few steps to yank the drawers out of his grasp. “No, that’s fine, this— this is fine. You have a needle?”

He indicates that Jaskier should check the small bag on the nightstand, and he quickly finds and retrieves the meagre sewing supplies that Valdo has yet to even open. Jaskier struggles to thread the needle and Valdo bites back a hundred entendres; he’s in too vulnerable a position to tease. Instead he retreats to the corner of the room and sinks into a chair next to his discarded trousers.

Sitting like this, with a distance between them and his legs bared, allows Valdo to recollect the last time they saw one another. He thinks of it and presses his lips together, his mouth remembering how Jaskier’s had felt. Across the room, without glancing up at all, Jaskier chews his lower lip— it makes him look decades younger, somehow.

Valdo’s breath catches in his throat. Jaskier looks up, instantly catching his gaze across the room. Mildly, he offers, “I can get you something else to cover up.”

Valdo shrugs. “If you’d like.”

Neither of them move to do so. Valdo reaches down but cowers at the last moment, resting his palms atop his thighs. Jaskier’s eyes flash, but he says nothing, only twisting his lip gently between his teeth as he returns to his needlework.

Because he’s in the most vulnerable position of his life, or because he’s never allowed himself anything good, or because he knows better than to think this can end well, or because he thinks they’re at their best when they’re at their ugliest, Valdo speaks without thinking; “So. Tell me, Julian. Where is that witcher of yours, anyway?”

The change is instant, and horrific. Jaskier’s voice drops to an awful bitter and clipped tone. “No clue.”

“Ah.” Valdo, appropriately chastened, frowns. “You were so happy last I saw you.”

Jaskier’s frown only hardens. “I was a fool.”

“A fool in love,” guesses Valdo.

“But a fool regardless,” Jaskier snaps back. “Do you care what pattern I stitch into this?”

“Dealer’s choice.” That makes the bard finally glance his way, and then glance very obviously down at his prick, still clamped tightly between his thighs. Jaskier nods sharply before turning back to his needlework.

His fingertips move deftly over the softly worn fabric as Valdo’s fingertips dig into the meaty muscle of his legs. Between them, his cock twitches, desperate for attention. It might be the strangest thing they’ve done together yet. Perhaps the strangeness is what finally prompts Jaskier to speak again.

“He told me he no longer wanted me in his life,” admits the poet, his gaze flicking down to Valdo’s cock even as his heart drifts to another man. It says a great deal about Valdo that his arousal does not falter, and that in fact this jealousy, combined with the attention, makes his erection even harder.

But Valdo is nothing if not a gentleman, even to his greatest rival. Voice unmistakably thick, he tells Jaskier firmly, “Then he was the fool.”

Jaskier laughs; there is no humour behind it. “No, he… he might have spoken brashly, but it was a necessary wake up call for us both. He was grieving, and I was…” He swallows, shaking his head. “I followed him around for decades. I was worse than his horse, I was…”

Valdo tuts. “You can’t blame a poet for being hopelessly romantic.”

“Not much of a poet anymore,” mutters Jaskier.

“Well, that much is true,” Valdo agrees, steadying his hands on his bare thighs and crossing his ankles primly. Juxtaposed with his hard prick, still throbbing between his legs, his prudence must seem amusing. “I’ve heard your recent compositions, and I must say, I would much rather listen to a dog bark at a crow than even one verse of Burn, Butcher, Burn.”

The reference to the classic that they had both so enjoyed in school brings a pleased, clever grin to Jaskier’s lips. He sets Valdo’s smallclothes down on the bed and then rises to his feet, steadying his hands at his hips and staring Valdo down. “Valdo,” he begins, teasing but nervous, in a way he usually isn’t.

Mocking his tone, Valdo echoes, “Jaskier.”

“You found me here.”

“A stroke of good luck.”

“For both of us.” Jaskier takes a step towards him. Valdo is reminded abruptly of chess. He is also reminded abruptly of his lack of dress; he shifts in his seat, knees spreading then closing again. “Valdo, are you going to have some big melodramatic overreaction if I tell you I’ve missed you?”

“Yes,” hisses Valdo. “Absolutely. Don’t you dare.”

Jaskier ignores him, humming, “What was it you asked me for last time? So pitiful, and yet it had a beautiful, memorable ring to it.”

Valdo puts on his best Gwent face and pretends not to remember, parroting back Jaskier’s words cruelly; “No clue.” His traitorous cock dribbles between his thighs, and he shoves his knees together.

“I don’t think you would have come here with the same strange request if you didn’t remember,” Jaskier’s grin turns downright dangerous. “You begged me to be mean. I don’t think I was quite capable of it back then, but. Good news! I’m much meaner now.”

Damn the bard. This is the very thing Valdo had wanted, and the very last way he’d wanted it. He shakes his head, spitting harshly, “You may look the part, but I know you, Julian. Inside, you’re still that bleeding heart poet, aren’t you? It’s unmistakable, even when you’re dressed like a pirate and a lush. It’s in your eyes, and that little twist of your soft pouty lips. You can’t even pretend to be cruel to a man who you once called your greatest rival! You just don’t have it in you.”

The pout Valdo mentioned comes out in full force now; Jaskier is practically smouldering. “I ought to accidentally forget to take the needle out of your drawers.”

Valdo hisses, “That isn’t exactly the prick up my ass I had in mind,” and Jaskier takes the bait, lunging forward. His soft lips capture Valdo’s harshly, and both of them exhale— Jaskier, with the relief of someone who really needs a good release.

Valdo, with the agony of someone who has dreamt of this for decades.

Jaskier is not as gentle as he had always imagined; perhaps his ‘Path’ has wrung that from him, despite all his soft qualities that never seem to fade. But he is passionate, taking what he needs from Valdo and giving him the world in return. They don’t make love but Valdo never expected them to, and when Jaskier moans his name— his real name— into his shoulder, it’s nearly enough to curb the yearning.

He leaves with mended undergarments and a brand new, deeply familiar hole in his heart.

#valdskier fic #valdskier #watb #my writing #valdo marx #events

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bettsfic · 2 years

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Betts, how was elvis? Do I need to see it ASAP???

*slowly limps over to you, hand covering a bloody stab wound* yeah it was okay i guess

but no really. i hadn't even seen a trailer for elvis, only a poster, and thought "ah, that's going to be one of my favorite movies of all time." i mean it was a slam-dunk for me as a concept. elvis, whom i love. and baz luhrmann, whom i also love. i've seen (and loved) everything baz has ever done. i did not stand a chance against this film. like baby driver, alien, cool-hand luke, lawrence of arabia...just one of those things i know is going to be a Me thing forever.

and i was right, instantly one of my favorites. seventeen thumbs up. it's also maybe the only movie to have made me openly weep for ten straight minutes. so there's that. and the thing is, you know how it ends! you know it ends in tragedy! elvis dead at 42! indentured servitude to the international hotel in las vegas! his name and reputation dragged through the muck as he was slowly overtaken by addiction! and yet it still comes and punches you in the fucking face!

what i thought it was going to be: moulin rouge with elvis music.

what it actually is: an earnest and devastating biopic of elvis' financial abuse at the hands of his manager.

austin butler deserves all of the oscars. all of them. he's so good as elvis you literally forget he's not elvis. you think, ah yes elvis playing elvis in a movie about elvis. somehow he even managed to nail, not only elvis' speaking voice, but his singing and the minute changes of his voice as he aged. and i can't even begin to verbalize the insane physicality of it all. i use the phrase "chewing the scenery" a lot to describe good acting but in this case he just fucking demolishes it. it devastates me that he'll probably go totally unrecognized for this performance.

i can't believe baz luhrmann didn't make this movie sooner (although i guess the financial abuse knowledge is relatively new information). i mean stylistically elvis and baz are basically soulmates. the over-the-top theatrics. grandiose music. the gaudiest of kitsch...

i'm probably going to see it at least 2-3 more times in theaters.

#elvis

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eustochium · 2 years

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reviews of every movie i’ve seen in theaters lately, because this is what i do with my friday nights now. maybe spoilers or whatever if you care

-Elvis: i do genuinely believe austin butler made some faustian pact for an oscar because there’s no way that he managed to turn out a performance like that when his resume to that point consisted of supporting roles in Sharpay’s Fabulous Adventure and Vanessa Hudgens’ Coachella appearances. anyway it was unfortunately good, bc Baz Luhrmann is the hollywood purveyor of grandiose spectacle and tragicomic fairy tales, and for that end chooses his source material very well. costume design was objectively perfect, because of course it was. staging a montage representing elvis’s hollywood years to an instrumental britney spears mashup before punctuating it with the sound of a gunshot and cronkite’s voice announcing the assassination of MLK is probably one of the most insane creative choices i’ve seen on a screen and shows that baz knew exactly what kind of story he wanted to tell. the unfortunate part is that baz is also a wildly wealthy white australian who, despite a well-intended effort, was extremely out of his depth in trying to portray the nuanced realities of race in mid century america as they pertained to Elvis Presley’s career, but this effort still led to objectively the best musical scenes in the movie. stan yola and go stream her album right now. 8/10

-Don’t Worry Darling: literally so much fun. Harry Styles didn’t quite sell the character for me thru most of it, until the ending sort of gave some justification for why he might have come across as less than wholly convincing—but tbh i doubt that was an intentional performance choice. his press conference soundbite about how DWD “feels like a movie” got rightfully clowned on but it’s actually like. the most apt assessment of it lmao. definitely sets you up to know there’s gonna be some big shocking final twist, and while idk how i feel about it, at least it kind of resolved my biggest issue throughout watching most of it which is the glaring fact that not a single person in this movie convincingly looks like they’re from the 1950s. everyone in the movie has a face that knows about texting and the costume design doesn’t help either, literally like an online brain poisoned person’s mental image of what 1950s suburbia looks like, so that works. messy plot that didn’t really know what to do with itself. nevertheless Miss Flo ate and left no crumbs, as the kids say. also the supposed controversy abt the behind-the-scenes drama was one of the first truly enjoyable entertainment news cycles in a good long while. not a great film but genuinely a great time. 7/10

SMILE: viscerally creepy at a few scenes but that’s rly all there is. freaky premise on the surface but overall not very good and didn’t have anything to say about its central theme of trauma that hasn’t already been said much more effectively by plenty of other, much better movies. 3/10

Pearl: slapped, went absolutely insane, spoke to the soul, talented brilliant amazing showstopping spectacular never the same un-afraid to reference or not reference etc etc. never seen X and don’t particularly care to bc there’s truly nothing i could ever imagine in any way adding to what that movie did for me. didn’t breathe once during mia goth’s entire 8 minute monologue, literally exited the theater feeling like that “girls with they ____” meme, in the best way. she named her murderous pet gator after Theda Bara. absolutely zero notes. 10000/10

Moonage Daydream: A good movie to go see with your mom, if your mom’s celebrity crush growing up was David Bowie. 9/10

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allthemusic · 5 months

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Week ending: 14 January 1954

Our first chart week of 1954 - I don't know what happened to the week ending January 7th - and it's a three-song week! What a good start for the year. I'm intrigued what the British public were listening to, in the 1954 post-Christmas slump, so without further ado:

Rags to Riches - David Whitfield (peaked at No. 3)

This song starts, and I think I know it? It's a Tony Bennett original and there's an Elvis version, apparently, and I can only assume it's from that, but it doesn't seem to be one of Elvis' more popular songs, so it's a bit of a mystery why I know that, to be honest. I'm not an Elvis fan by any means. Either way, it was a pleasant surprise, as the song started.

Unfortunately, there aren't a whole lot of other points in David's favour here. It's not that the song is bad - quite the opposite, it's perfectly competent and enjoyable - but it's not very memorable, and David's delivering it in his usual slightly operatic, carefully enunciated style.

The sentiment is pretty sweet, I guess? If David's love would only pay him attention, he'd go "from rags to riches", metaphorically speaking, and "though my pocket may be empty / I'd be a millionaire". So far, so good. Okay, it's a bit cliché. But I enjoy a song that's about love trumping material concerns - call me a sap!

The line where David asks "Must I forever be a beggar / Whose golden drеams will not come true / Or will I go from rags to riches / My fatе is up to you" is a bit of a turn - he's putting a bit of pressure on his love, there, in a way that I don't generally care for. I don't know, it just feels a bit manipulative, and also very grandiose. Fortunately, the moment doesn't last long, so I can't get too worked up about it.

There's a nifty kind of almost-Latin Bolero-like rhythm on parts of this. It never quite manages it, but it's approaching something interesting, especially on lines like "tell me you're mine ever more", and in the little instrumental breaks. It's not much, but it keeps things fresh.

And then we get one of the Big Old Endings that David is so very good at. It's big, bombastic and jarringly loud, and this song, like most songs, doesn't need it. Sigh. "My fate is UUUUUUUUP TOOOOOOOOO you" indeed.

Blowing Wild (The Ballad of Black Gold) - Frankie Laine (2)

I had to check, at first, that I hadn't already covered this song. But no, that was the very similarly titled Where the Winds Blow. That was an interesting enough song, and this is cut from a similar mould, on the surface - a Western theme, with lots of plot-relevant drama, pounding drums and backing singers imitating wind.

The film this is from is also called Blowing Wild, and it sounds wild. Our main characters are Jeff and Dutch, two wildcatters (aka people who go around digging for oil in areas not known to have oil) who get entangled with two different women in a small Western town. There are bandits, oil wells blowing up, gambling and murder - Marina, in particular, the woman who's namechecked in the song, apparently kills a man by pushing him into machinery, and then is killed in an oil well explosion. Yikes.

Frankie, given this, sings with an entirely appropriate level of drama - which is to say, he hammily oversells the whole song. It's very, very dramatic, lurching from grand statement to grand statement, all over this big pounding drum beat and these dramatic horns.

It begins with an exhortation to the beloved Marina, but the singer is apparently torn between her and his need to find oil: "Marina mine / Set me free from black gold." The image of oil itself as a grasping, sinister presence that you need to be freed from is powerful.

Except it then seems like Marina's not exactly a much healthier alternative for Frankie? She's described as a sort of sinister presence throughout, and compared to a spider: "I was caught in her web / Just like the spider catches the fly". Yikes.

In fact, Frankie then declares that "I must leave her or die". Double yikes. Clearly not the most stable or healthy romance for Frankie.

And then, as suddenly as all that got set up, we end, with a bunch of backing singers pretending to be the wind. Which worked really well in Where the Winds Blow, but just sounds a bit silly in practice here. I don't know it it's because the "wind" goes up and down more? It sounds like the sort of noise you'd make if you were pretending unconvincingly to be a ghost. The overall effect is very much reminiscent of "Marley and Marley" from the Muppets Christmas carol, which I don't think helps this song.

Admittedly, the rest of the instrumentation is pretty effective at creating a tense, obviously Western atmosphere, full of menace. Which is all a Western theme needs to do, strictly speaking.

Overall, it's just a bit of a chaotic mess, though. You can't follow the story, it's not quite clear how or why Marina's meant to set Frankie free, and the instruments often overpower the singing, a bit. Plus those very silly ghosts at the end. Dramatic, but a bit too much - Where the Wind Blows is superior in just about every metric.

Cloud Lucky Seven - Guy Mitchell (2)

Hey, it's the ever-unreliable Guy Mitchell, whose songs I regularly enjoy and/or loathe! He must be the most-featured artist so far, or at least one of the most-featured artists, and I do feel like I'm getting quite a good feel for him, for better or for worse.

Thankfully, this is Guy in his chirpier, light-hearted mode, and he's even left the period-associated racism/misogyny at home, which is nice for once!

There's some super 1950s vocal harmony in the background of track, which I also really like, especially with all the "ooooh"s. It's tight and fun, and very vintage.

Lyrically, it's a very happy, simple song, the main idea simply being that when you're in love, "you're walkin' on cloud lucky seven". The backing singers particularly love this idea, and chip in regularly with a repeated cry of "lucky seven, lucky seven".

I particularly enjoy the development in the second verse, as Guy desribes the process of falling gradually in love, and how "When you meet someone new, / You're on clouds one and two" but how "As you see more and more / Of the one you adore / You're on clouds three and four / And bells are ringing". We then proceed through all the levels of falling in love, before - you guessed it - you end up back on Cloud Lucky Seven. It's cute, and I enjoy the acknowledgement that it's a thing that develops, and not love at first sight. I don't know, it feels a bit more nuanced and mature than some songs have been - for all that this song is a piece of sugary fluff.

I also appreciate the bells that come in - I'm a sucker for the trope where songs mention an instrument and then you hear that instrument playing, and church bells are rarely a bad addition to a song. They give it that sort of more epic vibe, and here, they're also brief enough to add some interest without outstaying their welcome. We get a similar thing happening later with a glockenspiel, too, but it's different enough not to feel repetitive. Nicely done.

This song is a guilty pleasure, because it's really very sappy, but it is quite a fundamenally likeable golden retriever of a song. Nobody's claiming it as a lost classic, but it's nice enough.

Well, that was about what I expected. I've got a decent sense of what to expect, with all three of these acts, and boy did they deliver here. Exactly the songs I expected to hear, kicking 1954 off well. Nothing stunning, but nothing completely dire.

Favourite song of the bunch: Cloud Lucky Seven.

#uk charts #1954 #david whitfield #frankie laine #guy mitchell

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fortheheavenssake · 4 years

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PG MM Anon Interpretation Collection - 24

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻PG INTERPRETATION MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜

163: Jan 6

MM ANON … RICKY , RICKY ,RICKY!! …… respect!! …… A HANK-kerchief full of platitudes …… 🎼a speech full of sugar helps the Meganson go down🎼……… 🎼Oh happy days 🎼………… “SHE CAME, SHE SAW, SHE CONNED-CURD…… …”………… “ this must end soon !! very soon”…… We have the technology ……… “Ahhh , The elusive tape”……… Timing is everything!! ……… DM loading it’s guns……… print and be dammed!!

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

RIDDLE #161

January 6/2020 HAPPY EPIPHANY EVERYONE!

1800 hrs CST

RICKY , RICKY ,RICKY!! …… respect!! …… A HANK-kerchief full of platitudes

At the Gold Globe awards, by the Hollywood Foreign Press Associations Annual Awards, host Ricky Gervais gave a beyond scathing attack on celebrities, especially the big wig executives, YOU COULD FEEL THE RAGE AND TENSION FROM THE SCREEN! He said what most everyday people think! Tom Hanks facial expressions were very indicative of anger and disagreement with what was being said. Even Jeffrey Epstein was mentioned. Did any of you watch 60 Minutes last night? They interviewed Dr Michael Baden, the family hired expert pathologist. Graphic photos were shown. Too many coincidental errors, l definitely believe was NOT A SUICIDE!

Many celebrities, higher than thou attitude and their ‘woke’ platitudes, telling us how we should live, what we should believe, the worst offender imo is OW!

🎼a speech full of sugar helps the Meganson go down🎼

Song from a film l just watched with my sister for the first time last week, Mary Poppins! Such a shame the surgeon botched her surgery tendering the amazing Julie Andrews no longer to sing! But l digress, you know me, queen of digressions! The song spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down. Will the sugars do something to help madam once things go Lear-shaped? What can they do, most are young, have no wealth nor fame. Someone making a very sweet speech, saying very nice things about madam. Meganson, Meghan is not spelt Megan, is this Archie?? Revelation of the truth about Archie revealed and make us all finally happy for the real truth to come out! Who will deliver this speech? Harry? Bojo?

🎼Oh happy days 🎼………… “

Old Gospel song, oh happy day when Jesus washed my sins away, l sing this ALL THE TIME! We will sing these words, oh happy when day madam is summarily stripped of her title, and information of all her crimes and misdemeanours are made public!! I pray for this day!!

“SHE CAME, SHE SAW, SHE CONNED-CURD…… …”

Madam arrived, conned her way in, using blackmail and many other alleged things, she saw and tried to take secret photos, recordings etc at various places. Cameras, hidden, were allegedly found prompting the complete sweep, MM. ANON mentioned in a riddle few weeks back. Conquered is not the word, conned-curd. Curds and whey are a product of cheese-making. When rennet, an enzyme is added the milk curdles. These solid, curdled lumps are the curds. The whey is the liquid byproduct of the curdling process. Basically madam behaviour has resulted in lumps and clumps of lies, distortion and only a God knows it all, many many more alleged victims of being used for her own personal gain/needs/wishes!

“ this must end soon !! very soon”…… We have the technology ……… “Ahhh , The elusive tape”……… Timing is everything!!

THESE ARE THE WORDS WE HAVE ALL BEEN SCREAMING FOR MONTHS AND THE PUBLIC AS WELL!! LG is reassuring HMTQ they have the technology they need, perhaps facial recognition for all her fake photos, l mean a non-tech like me can see they are glaring photoshops or should l say photo-CHOPS!!

Talk of the elusive tape that has been leaked on line, l personality think there are numerous tapes!! They have the tape they need and HMTQ remains firm of releasing it at the right time!

DM loading it’s guns……… print and be dammed!!

The DM is tired of years of sitting on the dossier while madam, to quote the Bard, “struts and frets her hour on the stage, full of fury signifying nothing!” They are gonna roll it out , weapons loaded locked soon to be fired. Oh l can hardly wait!

1845 hrs CST. GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

Thank you PG! This looks amazing. We appreciate this….tick tock!😊💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

skippyv20

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻PG ADDS/CLARIFIES🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜

TO CLARIFY MY POINT💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻

SHE CAME, SHE SAW, SHE CONNED-CURD

She came, saw conned used…..Vini Vidi Vici words by Julius Caesar, MM ANON altered for the purpose, unlike Caesar, she came, conned..BUT DID NOT CONQUER…..THE MON

—————-

164: Jan 7

MM ANON, ……… she’s the (arm) pits……… go home Yank…… he’s a stone lighter ……… get off my f#@£%land ……… “ come to my birthday, never!!” ……… A state of emergency …… who dares bins ………… 🎼return to lender🎼……… “ it’s a struggle old thing”……… “ stop swearing at the tourists”…………… “ bloody tourists” …… Sydney!!……… “ I’m looking forward to next series” ……… “new stamps??

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

RIDDLE #162. January 7/2020

1245 hrs CST

she’s the (arm) pits……… go home Yank…… he’s a stone lighter ……… get off my f#@£%land ……… “

Well well well, something wicked this way came……return of evil and Harry tethered, somewhat temporarily to that evil. Her sweat was so excessive in her axillae, the shirt was soaked and very obvious in photos!! DM giving that photo front page coverage🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂. Yes go home Yank! Screams and silent roars for just that, be gone evil from whence ye came! Harry looks so thin, a stone in UK 6.35 kg, American is 14 pounds! He has been through the wars indeed!! I feel, as a Canadian, exactly that sentiment but l won’t edit the word and might add a few more🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬!!

come to my birthday, never!!”

Catherine’s birthday is January 9/2020. NO WAY NO HOW ON GOD’S GREENEST EARTH IS MADAM GOING TO BE PART OF ANYTHING FULL STOP!!!

A state of emergency …… who dares bins

Australia is on fire, state of emergency everywhere . He who dares wins but this is bins? There are so many brave firefighters from all over the world helping. Millions in donations and aid pouring in. Millions for helping the surviving animals. It’s so heartbreaking, the photos are horrific. Burned bandaged koalas 🐨, the kangaroo 🦘 hugging its rescuer….if you have not shed a tear, l don’t know what else would bring tears. 😢😢😢😭😭😭. The worst is that reports are coming out that many of the fires were started by people.

🎼return to lender🎼

Song by Elvis, Return to Sender….hmmmmmm madam owes lots of something to lots of dangerous people! No idea how she is going to do it, but she doesn’t care, she thinks on the fly, or rather doesn’t think, just lives life on the fly, lies upon lies upon lies! The story always convoluted, never making sense and adding to the disbelief by many here and other places.

I think the UK and the entire Commonwealth have had her on ‘loan’ for this whole farce and it’s time to return her to America!! They lent her!! RETURN POSTAGE DUE!!!

“ it’s a struggle old thing”……… “ stop swearing at the tourists”…………… “ bloody tourists” …… Sydney!!………

PP AND HMTQ DISCUSSING THIS SITUATION. HE IS STRUGGLING WITH PROLONGED ILLNESS AND HIS AGE. CALLING FOR HIS VALET, SYDNEY, NEEDING HELP WITH SOMETHING OR PERHAPS A BEVVIE/BODDINGTONS. YES IT SOUNDS LIKE MADAM IS STILL TREATING PEOPLE AS THEY ARE BENEATH HER , CONTEMPTIBLE AND WORTHLESS. OR IS PP FRUSTRATED WITH TOURISTS AROUND WINDSOR ETC.

“ I’m looking forward to next series” ……… “new stamps??

HMTQ AND PP HAVE BEEN WATCHING THE CROWN ON NETFLIX. IN PREVIOUS RIDDLE MM ANON ALLUDED THAT PERHAPS HMTQ HAD INOUT INTO THE NEW OR NEXT SEASON.

NEW POSTAGE STAMPS TO BE RELEASED? I KNOW WE HAVE GORGEOUS ONES NOW OF HMTQ IN LAVENDER, I HAVE A NICE SET OF THEM. PERHAPS THE ROYAL MAIL WILL BE ISSUING SOME, I CANNOT FIND ANY NEW ONES ON THEIR WEBSITE .

THERE IS STANLEY GIBBONS, A BOOK AVAILABLE THAT LISTS ALL THE NEW RELEASES FOR 2020 .

1310 hrs CST. GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

Thank you PG…this looks great. Much appreciated 🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

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165: Jan 10

GOD BLESS YOU ALL I AM READJUSTING TO BEING ALONE AGAIN AFTER SUCH A BLESSED FEW WEEKS. THANK YOU ALL FOR SO SO MANY KIND WORDS, WISHES AND PRAYERS. IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME 💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻PG🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

skippyv20

MM Anon

MM ANON. .…… GSTQAOBC …… don’t rock the bloat. …… pain-t stripper …… past, present and future ……… hide-a-Weymouth ……… W&K rule……… make a list ……… common- wealth……… nutmegs strange grandiosity ……… feed the handbitten …… king baby ………… love in a cold climate ……… NO MORE MONEY ……… a fall from race ……… Harry has left the building

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

RIDDLE #163. January 10/2019

1400 hrs

GSTQAOBC

GSTQAOBC, I ALWAYS SIGN MY POSTS THUSLY WITH THE CANADIAN FLAG, RECENTLY ADDING BRITAIN, AUSTRALIA AND NEW ZEALAND IN A SHOW OF SOLIDARITY. THANK YOU MM ANON, I STARTED THIS ACRONYM MONTHS AND MONTHS AGO. IT MEANS, GOD SAVE THE QUEEN AND OUR BELOVED COMMONWEALTH. WE MOST SURELY HAD AND HAVE GOD ON OUR SIDE. EVIL, IN ALL OF ITS FORMS, SHALL BE DEFEATED AND THE CROWN REMAINS STRONG. TIS FOOLISH LIES OF THE MOST EVIL ONE, IN ALL ITS FORMS AND FASHIONS AND PRESENTATIONS, LEADING BACKERS AND MADAM INTO A FOOLS ERRAND. CONSEQUENCES WILL BE DIRE!

don’t rock the bloat

DONT ROCK THE BOAT IS THE USUAL SAYING, HERE MM ANON HAS GIVEN US BLOAT. BLOAT, SWELLING, FILLERS TO HER FACE, FAUX MEGNANCY, WEIGHT GAIN, ALL THINGS MADAM HAD PRESENTED US WITH. MOST RECENTLY BEING THE DRASTIC FILLER IN HER FACE AND UPPER LIP ESPECIALLY.

THE BALCONY APPEARANCES ARE GETTING LARGER AND LARGER, ONE MIGHT US THE TERM BLOAT. IT IS WELL KNOWN THAT PC WANTS TO DOWNSIZE THE MONARCHY AND HAVE A TEAM OF SENIOR ROYALS. WE CAN SAY FOR CERTAIN NOW, MADAM HAS NO CHANCE OF EVER BEEING ON OR NEAR THIS TEAM.

pain-t stripper

PAINT STRIPPER IS TURPENTINE OR SOME OTHER SIMILAR NOXIOUS ITEM. AND MADAM IS ABOUT AS TOXIC IF NOT MORE. SHE CERTAINLY HAS CAUSED A LOT OF PAIN. HER HISTORY INCLUDED ALL THINGS SORDID. Pain-t stripper PANTY STRIPPER, IS SELF EXPLANATORY. LIKELY SHE HAS BEEN A STRIPPER AT SOME POINT. I DO SO WISH ALL WAS MADE PUBLIC BUT IT SHALL BE PUBLIC IN DUE TIME.

I THINK JUST LIKE IN SPRING THE OLD AIR GOES OUT, BRING IN THE NEW, MADAM WILL BE STRIPPED OF HER TITLE, HER EXISTENCE WILL BE STRIPPED FROM THE ROYAL RECORD IN TERMS OF PHOTOS ETC ETC . LOOK HOW EASY SHE WAS TO PHOTOSHOP OUT OF BABY PRINCE LOUIS CHRISTENING PHOTOS!!

past, present and future

HER FAKE ENGAGEMENT RING WAS THE CLASSIC TRIO, HER PAST, WHAT WE KNOW OF IT IS VERY SORDID, HER PRESENT IS CAUSING HORRIFIC HAVOC AND I AM CERTAIN HER FUTURE INVOLVES ARREST FOR TREASON AT THE LEAST AND FINANCIAL CRIMES, FITURE IS LONG TERM INCARCERATION.

hide-a-Weymouth

IS THIS WHERE SHE IS BEING KEPT IN CUSTODY? I AM CERTAIN SHE IS IN CUSTODY OF ONE SORT OR ANOTHER.

W&K rule

WILLIAM AND CATHERINE HAVE MORE THAN PROVED THEMSELVES DURING THESE DIFFICULT DAYS. THEY ARE TRULY WORTHY OF THE TITLES THEY SHALL EVENTUALLY RECEIVE. I AM CERTAIN THEY HAVE BEEN OF IMMENSE SUPPORT TO HARRY THROUGH ALL IF THIS AS WELL AS TO HMTQ AND PC! THEY ARE TRULY DIVINELY GIVEN, A PERFECT MATCH IF THERE EVER WERE ONE.

make a list

NO CHRISTMAS IS OVER, WE ARE NOT TALKING SANTA CLAUS HERE. A LIST IS BEING MADE Of ALL THE THINGS HARRY CAN DO, ONCE HE IS FREE OF HER. ALL THE THINGS HE CAN DO TO HELP HIS GRANDMOTHER, HIS FATHER, AND THE FAMILY IN GENERAL.

common- wealth

IN ANY DIVORCE ASSETS AND CUSTODY ARE ISSUES, HENCE THE COMMON-WEALTH. THERE WILL BE NOTHING LEFT FOR HER, BY THE TIME DIVORCE COMES HARRY WILL BE PENNILESS THANKS TO THE BRILLIANCE OF THE ROYAL TEAM. AS FAR AS HER MOVING TO CANADA, SHE CAN SCRAP THAT OR ANY OTHER COMMONWEALTH COUNTRY, WILL NOT BE PERMITTED NOR WELCOMED.

nutmegs strange grandiosity

SHE IS TOTALLY NARCISSISTIC, I TRULY DO NOT THINK IT WILL HIT HER UNTIL HER CELL DOOR SLAMS SHUT. EVEN THEN SHE THINKS HERSELF SO IMPORTANT THAT SOMEONE WILL SWOOP IN AND SAVE HER!

feed the handbitten

THE PHRASE IS NEVER BITE THE HANDS THAT FEEDS YOU. SHE HAS GNAWED BEYOND THE SHOULDER. WHO IS FEEDING THE HANDBITTEN? HARRY IS BEING LOVED AND SUPPORTED BY FAMILY, FRIENDS AND US. SHE HAS NO ONE. FUNNY HOW PHOTOS IF TM AND DR HAVE NOW STARTED TO REAPPEAR.

king baby

KING BABY IS A NEW ORLEANS TERM FOR THE MARDI GRAS KING CAKE, THEY PUT A SMALL TOY BABY IN EACH CAKE AND WHOEVER GETS THE SLICE HAS GOOD LUCK. WELL THIS OBVIOUSLY REFERRING NOT TO BOSS BABY BUT HE WILL NOT BE KING, NOR TO GEORGE WHO WILL BE KING.

MADAM IN HER MIND FANCIED HERSELF QUEEN, HER ‘CHILD WOULD BE KING, KING ARCHIFICIAL .😂😂😂🤣🤣 HOW SAD. AM I CORRECT THAT THE SURROGATE BIRTHED TWINS A BOY AND A GIRL??

love in a cold climate

THE ALLEGED OWNER OF THE MANSION ON V.I. WHERE THEY ALLEGEDLY SPENT THEIR TIME IN CANADA, IS SAID TO BE A RUSSIAN BILLIONAIRE, WORKING HARD TO CONCEAL HIS IDENTITY. IS MADAM GOING TO TRY AND DO A RUNNER AND BECOME A CONCUBINE TO THIS OLIGARCH?? LOVE CERTAINLY WOULD HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH IT!

NO MORE MONEY

HAS PRINCE CHARLES CUT THE ORIVY PURSE FINALLY, HOW I HOPE SO. THE STEP TOWARDS BANKRUPTING HARRY AND LEAVING NO FUNDS THAT MADAM CAN GRAB!

a fall from race

A FALL FROM GRACE IS THE USUAL STATEMENT, HERE ITS RACE. MADAMS USE OF BEING A WOC GOT HER NOWHERE US SOUTH AFRICA, IN FACT MANY WERE EXTREMELY UPSET. SHE HAS ALWAYS IDENTIFIED AS CAUCASIAN AND SHE HAS RETURNED TO IT.

Harry has left the building

THE SAYING IS ELVIS HAS KEFT THE BUILDING, MEANING THE CONCERT IS OVER, AS WOMEN KEPT SCREAMING FOR ELVIS. WELL WE CAN OFFICIALLY, WITH THAT THUMBS UP PHOTO OUTSIDE CANADA HOUSE, SAY HARRY IS DONE WITH HER, MARRIAGE OVER, THANK GOD!! THERE ARE DIARY ENGAGEMENTS FOR HIM AND HIS FUTURE WILL BE GRAND!!

1450 hrs CST. GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

Thank you dear PG…looks wonderful….let the fun begin…😊💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

——————

166: Jan 11

MM ANON ……… blowing up a GAIL……… “ it’s like de-programming sir” ……” better have them inside the tent pissing out……… “it’s her pattern of behaviour” ………… back in the day ……… W&K step up……… William refuses to play ball……… that’s weak Charles …………” it’s all about money with her”……… “ all I’m saying is,you’re powerful family “ ………” another snifter LG”……… “ hold the calls Sydney”.

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

January 11/2020

RIDDLE #164. 1345 hrs CST

blowing up a GAIL

A gail/Gayle, can be a strong destructive storm wind or it can be a person’s name. Gayle King, OW bestie has been on madam ‘friend’ list for quite sometime since the day of the gathering of unhappy people which OW attended. Her friends, l use that term in its loosest sense, people she has kept around her socially seem to have popped up out of nowhere. .backers?? When they did the first show of archificial madam insisted a CBS/AMERICAN network be there and at the time of its morning showing. Not surprisingly Gayle King is a host of that very show. Harry and OW are allegedly working on something for Apple TV on mental health l am not sure where things are at with that. News today clearly stating that Madam and Harry are going to do a tell all interview with GK. Things are blowing harder and stormier kids, batten down the hatches!! I do not believe Harry will take part!

“ it’s like de-programming sir” ……” better have them inside the tent pissing out……… “it’s her pattern of behaviour”

As l said yesterday in my riddle interpretation, it’s like Harry has been in a cult and needs de programming. A slow process, surrounded by loved ones and expert professionals, to heal mentally and physically. As l have said many times Harry will be forever changed by this entire trauma.

It’s probably better to have him inside the tent pissing out, than outside the tent pissing out. Quoted by President Lyndon , referring to the then F.B.I. Director J.Edgar Hoover, in the New York Times, October 31/1971. It was a dark time in America with the house on Unamerican Activities Trials, many blacklisted as communists, and oh the scandalous details have come out about Hoover and his proclivities. This is basically saying and meaning, keeping your friends close and your enemies closer. I think it might also be a strong hint regarding JE black book, and given Hoover was high power and perverted information came out about him, is this a reference to other powerful people hiding skeletons of filth also? Some of those very individuals are backers!!! ALL ALLEGEDLY OF COURSE!KEEP MADAM UNDER 24/7/366 , AS THIS IS LEAP YEAR SURVEILLANCE OR CUSTODY. DEBATE THAT AMONGST YOURSELVES WHICH IT IS😁.

REGARDING MADAMS PATTERNS OF BEHAVIOUR, OF USING PEOPLE AND DISCARDING THEM, WASNT IT AWESOME TO FINALLY READ AND SEE THAT IN HUGE LETTERS AS THE HEADLINE OF THE DAILY MAIL YESTERDAY? FINALLLY FINALLY SOMETHING WE HAVE ALL BEEN PRAYING FOR THE TIDE IS DRASTICALLY TURNING. SEEING THAT HEADLINE WAS AWESOME!!

back in the day

MAKES ME FEEL OLD, THIS SAYING DOES, BECAUSE I REMEMBER BACK IN THE DAY🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂. MADAM HAS AN ALLEGEDLY SORDID, VILE LIST OF ACTIVITIES DURING HER “BACK IN THE DAY TIMES”. I HAVE SAID THIS PROBABLY IN EACH RIDDLE INTERPRETATION AND IN MANY COMMENTS/POSTS. THE DM HAS A MILLION DOLLAR DOSSIER THAT THEY HAVE BEEN SITTING ON SINCE BEFORE THE DAY OF THE GATHERING OF UNHAPPY PEOPLE. LET IT BLOW DM, OPEN THE WINDOWS LET IT ALL OUT!!!

W&K step up……

WILLIAM AND CATHERINE HAVE STEPPED UP AND SHOWN EVERYONE THE FUTURE OF THE MODERN MONARCHY IS WELL SECURED. ARE THEY BEING NOW ASKED TO STEP UP FURTHER? IN WHAT WAY? THIS IS VERY INTERESTING IN LIGHT OF THEIR SEVERAL TOURS THAT ARE ALLEGEDLY PLANNED FOR 2020!

William refuses to play ball ….that’s weak Charles …………”

it’s all about money with her”……… “ all I’m saying is,you’re powerful family “ ………” another snifter LG”……… “ hold the calls Sydney”

HMTQ, LG AND PP ARE AT SANDRINGHAM, PRINCE CHARLES I BELIEVE IS IN SCOTLAND OR WAS YESTERRDAY, ARE DISCUSSING THIS. AGAIN FIRE CRACKLING ROARING AND SNAPPING JUST LIKE THE EMOTIONS IN THE ROOM, UNDERCOVER BUT VERY MUCH PRESENT! THE FLAMES DANCE ALMOST AS IF HER EVIL PRESENCE WAS THE FIRE ITSELF. THEY ARE DISCUSSING A PLAN OF ACTION , HOWEVER WILLIAM IS NOT WILLING TO COMPLY OR GO ALONG WITH IT! PRINCE CHARLES SUGGESTION MAKES HIM WEAK BY THE COMMENTERS OPINION. LG TRYING TO CONVEY THE EXTREME POWER THE ROYAL FAMILY HOLDS NOT JUST IN THE UK AND COMMONWEALTH BUT IN THE WORLD. HMTQ MOST CERTAINLY HAS THE SUPPORT AND RESPECT OF THE AMERICAN PRESIDENT TRUMP!

EVERYTHING WITH MADAM IS $$$$$£££££££€€€€ NOTHING ELSE IN THE WORLD MATTERS, NOT HER SOUL, NOT HER ALLEGED CHILDREN, NOT HER FAMILY, CERTAINLY NOT HARRY, HMTQ NOR THE ROYAL FAMILY AND CERTAINLY NOT HER PERSONAL REPUTATION!

SO MONEY WAS OFFERED, FOR MADAM TO LEAVE, AS A ONE TIME DEAL AFTER THEIR ENGAGEMENT, MADAM INITIALLY ACCEPTED IT THEN RENEGED. IS LG SUGGESTING HMTQ OUT CASH OFFER BACK ON THE TABLE, BEARING IN MIND HER POWERS? I CANNOT SEE HMTQ DOING THIS, SHE IS AND HAS BEEN A WOMAN OF HER WORD, IF SHE SAID IT WAS A ONE TIME OFFER ON,Y I AM INCLINED TO THINK THAT SHE MEANT IT. HOWEVER SHE MAY OFFER SOMETHING ELSE, PROPERTY? OR SOMETHING ELSE THAT LG IS REMINDING HER OF WHILST MENTIONING HER VAST POWERS, A PARDON PERHAPS??

ANOTHER BRANDY ORDERED GOR LG, HMTQ USUALLY HAS HER GIN AND DUBONNET BUT APPARENTLY NOT TODAY. TODAY IS NOT THE DAY FOR A LEISURELY COCKTAIL, THIS IS SERIOUS WORK. AS SYDNEY BRINGS THE SNIFTERS HMTQ REQUESTS HE HOLD ALL TELEPHONE CALLS AS THEY NEED UNINTERRUPTED TIME TO THINK AND PLAN!!

1500 hrs CST. GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

Thank you dear PG…looks great, and is appreciated…💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

————-

167: Jan 12

MM ANON ……… 🎼I don’t like Mondays🎼………” turn her bloody ugly face orf”. …… “ your call William!!” ……… bad advice ……… A military absence ……… “ yes,Pontcius Pilate” ……… Charles, The weakest link ……… “ your over generous ma’am”. ……… “ let them go, f**** em” ……… The taxpayers won’t like it ……… Canada caves……… RCMP……… BO offers a net- flick……… 🎼money,money,money 🎼…………… royal dis-appointments. ………… a tabloid tornado looms.

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

January 12/2020

RIDDLE#165. 1610 hrs CST

🎼I don’t like Mondays🎼………”

This song, by the Boomtown Rats, was sooo popular when l was young, it was if l recall the first song about depression and school shootings. A very dire song indeed. If this is in comparison to tomorrow’s meeting, extreme dire warning!

turn her bloody ugly face orf”.

PP HAS THE TELEVISION ON, SICK AND TIRED OF SEEING PRIVATE FAMIKY INFORMATION ON NEWS BUT EVEN MORE TIRED OF SEEING MADAMS FACE AND WANTS IT OFF!! Or orf!

“ your call William!!” bad advice ……… A military absence ……… “ yes,Pontcius Pilate” ……… Charles, The weakest link ……… “ your over generous ma’am”. ……… “ let them go, f**** em” ……… The taxpayers won’t like it ……… Canada caves……… RCMP……… BO offers a net- flick

THESE DISCUSSIONS HAVE OCCURRED AND WILL CONTINUE BETWEEN HMTQ, PP, PC, PW ANDLG . I DOUBT MADAM BE DIALING IN FROM WHATEVER CELL OR CUSTODIAL PLACE SHE IS CURRENTLY. WILL WILLIAM IS BEING GIVEN A CALL, HIS CHOICE OR OPINION TO ACT IR NOT ACT IN A CERTAIN DECISION, OR A FINAL SAY IN A DECISION, MIGHT THAT INVOLVE WILLIAM SPEAKING PUBLICLY?? THE WORDS IN THE RIDDLE, BAD ADVICE, FOLLOWS THAT. MIGHT THAT BE THE DECISION WAS BAD ADVICE? OR TO NOT DO IT WAS BAD..,SO COMPLEX. THEY ARE PLAYING OUT EVERY SINGLE OPTION, SCENARIO OF DEALING WITH MADAM AND THE POSSIBLE REPERCUSSIONS.

SINCE HARRY HAS CERTAIN MILITARY OBLIGATIONS, HE CANNOT JUST UP AND LEAVE. ARE THEY DISCUSSING A FORMAL MILITARY LEAVE FOR HIM? HE IS NOT LEAVING WITH MADAM, BUT THIS IS FOR HIM TO HAVE TIME TO HEAL AND RECOVER EMOTIONALLY.

AS WE KNOW ALL ORDERS COME FROM AND WILL COME FROM HMTQ. IN SCRIPTURE , PONTIUS PlLATE ORDERED CHRISTS CRUCIFIXION. THERE WAS ALMOST REGRET BY PONTIUS PILATE BECAUSE HE BELIEVED CHRIST TO BE A GOOD MAN WHO WAS TURNED IN BY ONE OF HIS OWN, JUDAS . WHO IS JUDAS HERE?? MADAM IS JUDAS AND SATAN SIMULTANEOUSLY WISHING TO DESTROY ALL THAT IS GOOD, DESTROY HARRY, DESTROY THE MONARCHY, HATRED OF CATHERINE IS PATHOLOGICAL AND HER UTTER GALL AND DISRESPECT FOR HMTQ IS UNCONSCIONABLE , WITH NO OBVIOUS RATIONALE OTHER THAN THAN PURE JEALOUSY! AND PURE EVIL, POSSESSED BY THE NATURE OF PURE EVIL MOST FOUL.AGAIN THE BARD, HAMLET….”Hamlet:

O most pernicious woman!

O villain, villain, smiling, damnèd villain!

My tables—meet it is I set it down

That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain—

At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark.

Hamlet Act 1, scene 5, 105–109”

CHARLES, THE WEAKEST LINK OR CHARLES IS THE WEAKEST LINK, THIS CAN BE TAKEN TWO WAYS, BUT THE PUBLIC HAS THOUGHT HIM WEAK. CHARLES CERTAINLY TAKEN HIS SHARE OF CRITICISM IN HIS LIFE REGARDING HIS CHOICES AND SOMETIMES LACK THEREOF. HE ACTED QUICKLY REGARDING PA BUT HIS OWN SON WILL BE A DIFFERENT BALLGAME.

HMTQ HAS SUGGESTED THE FINAL OFFER. LG IS TELLING HER SHE IS OVER-GENEROUS. PP SAYING LET THEM, THEM PLURAL, THE BOTH OF THEM GO, F***THEM, FORGET ABOUT THEM, DO WHAT YOU NEED TO DO TO GET RID OF “THEM”. NOW HEAR ME OUT! THEM IS PLURAL, DO I THINK THIS IS MADAM AND HARRY, NO I DO NOT. I THINK IT MIGHT BE MADAM AND ARCHFICIAL OR MA.

HERE IS THE PART ABOUT CANADA , CANADA CAVES, MORE OF HER LIES AND PR. YOU SAW HER AT CANADA HOUSE, SWEATING PROFUSELY, LITERALLY SOAKING WET!! . SHE HAS LIED, CHEATED, OBFUSCATED, TREATED OUR QUEEN AND ROYAL FAMILY AND EVERYONE HORRENDOUSLY. THERE IS NO WAY ON GODS GREEN EARTH THAT HMTQ WILL ALLOW THIS. CANADA IS A PRECIOUS COMMONWEALTH COUNTRY. MADAM HAS COMMITTED TREASON AGAINST THE CROWN AND A WHOLE HOST OF OTHER ALLEGED CRIMES, FINANCIAL ETC. SHE MUST PAY FOR THESE CRIMES. THERE IS NO FREE RIDE OR WALKING AWAY LA DE DA ANYWHERE. NOT ON HMTQ WATCH, ⚖️ WILL BE SERVED.

BO, OBAMA HAS HE OFFERED MADAM SOMETHING , A FILM ON THE INTERNET BUT NOT NETFLIX BUT NET-FLICK. HE IS A YANK, SHE IS WHY DOESNT HE TAKE HER IN, OR OW. OR GK. OR ANYBODY. LET HER FEND FOR HERSELF, SHES PROVEN HERSELF QUITE CAPABLE OF THAT.

🎼money,money,money 🎼…………… royal dis-appointments. ………… a tabloid tornado looms.

ABBA SONG, MONEY, LIVING IN A RICH MANS WORLD WITH NO MONEY OF YOUR OWN. MADAM IS OBSESSED WITH IT! NO AMOUNT IS EVER ENOUGH! HER ROYAL APPOINTMENTS MAY BE DISAPPOINTMENTS AS IN REMOVAL OF ANY AND ALL PATRONAGES, TITLES, ETC ETC.

🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻.

THE TABLOIDS WILL CONTINUE TO BE FILLED WITH THIS AND IF EVERYTHING COMES OUT, HOW SHE CONNED HER WAY IN,PR, ROYAL REPORTERS. ON AND ON, WE MUST CAREFULLY READ AND DISCERN. PERHAPS WILLIAM MAY MAKE A SPEECH AS REFERRED IN THE EARLY PART OF THIS RIDDLE. THE PR WAR CONTINUES, HARRY IS OFF THE BATTLEFIELD, THANK GOD.

1650 hrs CST

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

Fascinating! Thank you Dear PG! Yes, all the PR trickery and lies is the work of Satan! HM will make sure Canada is protected! This has to play out in order to free Harry, with minimal damage to the crown! Everything has been executed brilliantly! God Save The Queen! 🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

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168: Jan 13

MM ANON …………… take it or , take it!!……… no negotiation ………… Harry walks out ……… threats and lies ……… no comment…… tabloid carnage ……… more talk,talk. ……… commonwealth ambassador??? ……… no loss of financial support ……… MM gives up title ……… Harry keeps HRH. ……… archificial tells all……… W&K hold a huge party 🥳 🧣🤣🥳🥳🥳👀……… PP gives Sydney a knighthood ……… PP& Sydney get drunk. …………George bakes a cake. ……… Lottie has another sleepover. ……… Nanny gets a surprise

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

RIDDLE #166. January 13/2020

1545 hrs CST

take it or , take it!!……… no negotiation ………… Harry walks out

WHAT AN OH HAPPY DAY THIS IS! OFFER OF EVERYTHING MADAM WANTED AND SHE STILL IS NOT HAPPY. HOW SHOCKINGLY PREDICTABLE IS SHE😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣 STOMPING IN HER WELLIES, ARMS CROSSED, NEVER GOING BACK TO THAT BIG BAD U.K. EVER AGAIN…HMMMM DIDN’T SHE SPEND YEARS WANTING A BRITISH MAN?? I BELIEVE MALE, PALE AND STALE WERE HER CRITERIA🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂

THERE WAS NO NEGOTIATION TODAY, EVERYTHING HAD BEEN DONE AND DUSTED BEFOREHAND. HARRY WALKED OUT, HEAD HELD HIGH, GLEEFULLY HOPING MADAM KEEPS HER PROMISE OF NEVER COMING BACK TO THE U.K. AGAIN!!!

threats and lies ……… no comment…… tabloid carnage ……… more talk,talk. ………

TYPICAL MADAM SHE WILL USE THREATS, LIES ANYTHING EVEN WHEN SHE HAS BEEN GIVEN EVERY SINGLE THING THAT SHE ASKED FOR! THE TABLOID CARNAGE HAS BARELY BEGUN. JUST WAIT UNTIL THE REAL FILTH OOZES UP FROM THE MUCK AND MIRE. ALLEGED MISDEEDS, POSSIBLE CRIMES OF SUCH VILE NATIRE WILL NOT DISCUSS! FINANCIAL MERCHING , TAXES ETC ETC. I AM CERTAIN THERE ARE MANY MANY OTHER THINGS THAT WE DO NOT EVEN KNOW OF.

commonwealth ambassador???

no loss of financial support ……… MM gives up title ……… Harry keeps HRH. ………

THERE WAS TALK OF HARRY BEING THE GOVERNOR GENERAL TO CANADA BUT JULIE PAYETTE, OUR ASTRONAUT OCCUPIES THAT PART OF SPACE😁. WILL THERE BE RUMOURS OF AMBASSADORSHIP?? FINANCIAL SUPPORT TO CONTINUE? ODD BECAUSE MADAM WAS VERY CLEAR THAT IT ONLY COVERED 5% OF THEIR EXPENSES AND “THEY”WANT TO BE SELF SUFFICIENT FINANCIALLY 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂. THE WORDING OF HMTQ LETTER TODAY LEFT OUT ANY TITLES. DOES MADAM HAVE TO VOLUNTARILY AGREE TO GIVE UP HER HRH OR DofS? IN RETURN FOR WHAT, SOMETHING BEING KEPT SILENT? THERE WOULD BE SO MANY OPTIONS! HARRY WILL ALWAYS BE HRH BECAUSE HE IS THE GRANDSON OF THE QUEEN AND SON OF THE HEIR TO THE THRONE. EVEN IF THE DofS TITLE REMOVED. PERSONALLY I HOPE HMTQ RETIRES THOSE TITLES PERMANENTLY!!!

archificial tells all………

HE MUST HAVE BEEN A BEAUTIFUL BABY , HE MUST HAVE BEEN A BEAUTIFUL CHILD, ONLY THOSE OF A CERTAIN AGE WILL RECOGNIZE THOSE SONG LYRICS! ARCHIFICIAL IS AMAZING, HE CHANGES SIZES, FACE SHAPE, EYE SHAPE AND COLOUR, HAIR COLOUR AND AMOUNT. AT THE AGE OF SEVEN MONTHS.HE OOHS AND AAHS AT THE SCENERY IN A COUNTRY HE WAS NOT IN, NOW THAT IS A TALENTED CHILD! SO IS HE WRITING A TELL ALL BOOK TOO? A TELL ALL INTERVIEW, PERHAPS INTERVIEWED BY PEPPA PIG? OR DORA THE EXPLORER MAYBE??

SERIOUSLY EVERYTHING REGARDING THE DNA IS COMING OUT PUBLICLY AND COMING VERY VERY SOON. GET THE POPCORN 🍿 READY!!

W&K hold a huge party 🥳 🧣🤣🥳🥳🥳👀………

A HUGE BANNER CELEBRATION, MADAM IS DONE!! LOTS OF SCARFING JOKES, DRINKS, SIDEEYE JOKES AND JUST DECOMPRESSING.

I WOULD LOVE AN INVITE, NOT THAT I COULD GO BUT WOW THIS IS GOING TO BE A MASSIVE KNEES UP!!!

PP gives Sydney a knighthood ……… PP& Sydney get drunk. …………

DEAR SYDNEY, BLESS HIM, HE HAS BEEN STALWART, ALWAYS QUIETLY THERE IN EACH AND EVERY RIDDLE, READY TO TEND TO ANY AND ALL NEEDS AND REQUESTS. PP IS SO APPRECIATIVE OF HIS DEDICATION AND LOYALTY HE GRANTS HIM A KNIGHTHOOD, WELL DESERVED I SHOULD SAY! THEN THE PROCEED TO IMBIBE AND GET GOOD AND SNOCKERED! FORGET THE BODDINGTONS, GO FOR THE GOOD STUFF TONIGHT, ITS A CELEBRATION!!CHEERS 🥂🍻

George bakes a cake. ……… Lottie has another sleepover. ……… Nanny gets a surprise

MEANWHILE WITH THE CAMBRIDGE CHILDREN, GEORGE HAS BEEN TURNED ON TO BAKING EVER SINCE MAKING THE CHRISTMAS PUDDING AT THE VIDEO FOR CHRISTMAS. HE IS WORKING ON A NICE CAKE TO 🎉 CELEBRATE. THE CHILDREN ARE NOT EXACTLY CERTAIN WHAT THE CELEBRATION IS BUT UNCLE HARRY IS OVER AND HE IS VERY VERY HAPPY!!

OVER IN LOTTIE LAND ANOTHER SLEEPOVER IS HAPPENING, MY WHAT A BUSY HOUSEHOLD, I LOVE IT!!

WHAT HAS LOUIS GOTTEN UP TO, TO SURPRISE , NOTHING HE IS ASLEEP!! AGAIN I WILL SAY IT, NANNY’S SURPRISE IS PREPARING FOR CAMBRIDGE BABY 🍼 NUMBER FOUR. 💜💜💜💜

1620 hrs CST

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

Thank you PG…this is wonderful…playing out and requires patience! Much appreciated 😊💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

—————-

169: jan 14

MM ANON ……… para-sight……… “ O ma’am, cunning very cunning”………… “ William is made of sterner metal”……… ( behind every great man) ……… spring offensive, the children!! …………” Lotties the key”……… the holy trinity ……… “freeze them out”………… “it’s all a smokescreen sir”…… “ yes, full steam ahead, ask Camilla “ ………… “ circle the wagons LG” …………” Burn that f**** olive branch, once bitten”………” a Canadian tour , with the children, OMG! Touché!!……… inde redire eruditionis Habes

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

RIDDLE #169 @fortheheavenssake is keeping me on track of the riddles l have interpreted!

January 14/2020 1310 hrs CST

para-sight……… “ O ma’am, cunning very cunning”………… “

Parasites are things that live on a host taking its nutrition , from the host, most often resulting in great harm coming to the host. For example, someone eats undercooked meat, gets a tapeworm, the worms take all the nutrients and the human becomes very ill. It can also, in humans, be emotional parasite, sexual parasites, financial parasites. Madam just happens to be a narcissistic parasite that takes and uses everything possible in her chosen human AND HIS FAMILY/FRIENDS!! SHE LIES IN EVERY POSSIBLE. CONNIVES, PLANS, TALKS TO HERSELF ON TWITTER UNDER DIFFERENT NAMES. ITS ACTUALLY FREAKY TO WATCH HER DOING IT IN REAL TIME🤪🤪.

HERE, OUR DEAR MM ANON, HAS GIVEN PARA-SIGHT. PARA THE PREFIX MEANS

💜💜💜💜💜“ alongside of, beside, near, resembling, beyond, apart from, and abnormal.” 💜💜💜💜AND SIGHT. SO I READ SHE HAD BEEN SEEN DRIVING A CAR IN AMERICA OR CANADA. WHO KNOWS WHAT IA TRUE. ABNORMAL DEFINITELY, SHE HAS USED BODY DOUBLES BEFORE IN FAKE PHOTOS, THE VISIT TO THE BAR WITH FAKE HARRY. EVERY ARCHFICIAL PHOTO HAS BEEN PHOTOSHOPPED AND THE SIGHT IS ABNORMAL, ONE CAN TELL IMMEDIATELY THAT SOMETHING IS OFF. I WONDER HOW SHE WILL TRY AND ‘PROVE’ SHE AND ARCHFICIAL ARE STILL IN SAANICH😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣. LOCALS KNOW EVERYTHING, BE IT THE SEA, THE PRAIRIES, WHEREVER HERE. WE ARE NOT NOSY BUT WE ARE NOT EASILY FOOLED, WE CAN SMELL BS BEFORE ITS DROPPED!! BUT WE ARE EVER SO POLITE AND NICE THANK YOU VERY MUCH. I CAN HARDLY WAIT FOR HER NEXT MOVE. WE HAVE WON THE LOTTERY KIDS!! I BET SHE IS STILL SCREECH TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT HAPPENED😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🥂🥂🍻🍻🍻🥂

SHE IS CUNNING, SLY, MANIPULATIVE IN SO MANY WAYS, BUT SIMULTANEOUSLY EXTREMELY STUPID😂😂😂🤣🤣IT TRULY IS HARD TO FATHOM. HER TOXICITY IS ALMOST LETHAL. THE DAMAGE, HAS AFFECTED THE U.K., THE COMMONWEALTH AND THE WORLD. THE BIBLE SPEAKS OF SATAN BEING THE GREAT LIAR, THE FATHER OF LIES. THIS IS HER MASTER.

William is made of sterner metal”……… ( behind every great man) ……… spring offensive, the children!! …………” Lotties the key”……… the holy trinity

TUNGSTEN WAS ALLEGEDLY HER NICKNAME GIVEN TO HER BY PC WHEN MADAM FIRST CAME ON THE SCENE. PUBLIC EXPLANATION WAS HE ADMIRED HER STRENGTH, WELL NOW WE KNOW IT WAS FOR HER UNBENDING STUBBORN VERY DIFFICULT TO ACCOMMODATE AND DEMANDING NARCISSISTIC PERSONALITY!!!

WILLIAM HAS STEPPED UP, SHE HAD AND STILL HAS NO IDEA WHOSE SHE WAS MESSING WITH!!! WILLIAM SINGLE HANDEDLY TOOK ON HRC!!! ITS LIKE LITTLE tootie IN MY FAVOURITE FILM,MEET ME IN ST LOUIS ,TAKING ON THE BROKOFFS ON HALLOWEEN NIGHT😂😂😂🤣🤣. IF YOU HAVE SEEN THE FILM YOU WILL COMPLETELY GET WHAT I MEAN. SUFFICE IT TO SAY, WILLIAMS BACKBONE AND STRENGTH HAS BEEN INHERITED FROM HMTQ!! I AM SO PLEASED TO SEE OUR BELOVED MONARCHY IS SUCH SECURE HANDS!!!

THE OLD SAYING, BEHIND EVERY SUCCESSFUL MAN IS A GREAT STRONG SUPPORTIVE WOMAN! WE CAN ALL AGREE THAT WILLIAM HIT THE MOTHERLODE IN THE LIFE OF MINING TERMS WHEN HE FELL IN LOVE WITH AND MARRIED CATHERINE. HE WAS LUCKY THAT SHE LOVED HIM ENOUGH TO WAIT. THE TEAM OF THE TWO OF THEM, ALONG WITH THE FAMILY THEY ARE BUILDING IS FORMIDABLE. THEY TRULY ARE A POWER COUPLE. I KNOW THAT PHRASE IS BANDIED ABOUT, BUT THEY ARE THE REAL DEAL. HOW LUCKY ARE WE? LUCK HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT, AS WITH HMTQ, GOD ORDAINS WHO THE MONARCH IS. HMTQ BELIEVES THAT AS DO I AND MILLION S OF OTHERS.

TIME TO GET EVERYONES MIND OFF OF THE HELLISH TIME OF MADAM, THE CAMBRIDGE CHILDREN ARE THE KEY. OPERATION SPRING OFFENSIVE IS BEING PLANNED. BRING ON THE WEE CHARMERS! LOTTIE, OUR DEAR CHARLOTTE MOST DEFINITELY IS KEY AS SHE HAS AN EXTREMELY STRONG PERSONALITY, LIKE HMTQ AND RESEMBLES HER VERY MUCH AS WELL, ALTHOUGH SHE DOES HAS THE CHARMING RIGHT CHEEK THING THAT CATHERINE DOES. ITS HARD TO EXPLAIN ITS SORT OF A HALF SQUINT…ITS CHARMING AND COMPLETELY NATURAL!! THE HOLY TRINITY, DEFINITELY CHILDREN ARE GIFTS FROM GOD. THEY HAVE THREE, BUT I STILL STAND FIRM THAT NUMBER FOUR IS ON THE WAY. THE HOLY TRINITY IS PROTECTING THEM FROM EVIL MADAM HAS BROUGHT.

“freeze them out”………… “it’s all a smokescreen sir”…… “ yes, full steam ahead, ask Camilla “

FREEZING SOMEONE OUT MEANS PRETENDING THEY NO LONGER EXIST, IGNORE THEM, NOT PUBLICLY SEEN TOGETHER ETC ETC. THIS WILL BE HOW THEY WILL MOVE FORWARD UNTIL MADAM IS COMPLETELY DEALT WITH. GIVEN THAT SHE WANTED TO LEAVE THE U.K., THE FAMILY SHE GOT, FOR THE FAMILY SHE NEVER HAD, WANTING TO DO HER OWN THING OR ‘THEIR’OWN THING WITHOUT ANY FINANCIAL HELP OR GOING TO THE U.K., THE FREEZING “THEM” OUT WOULD PUBLICLY BE SEEN AS RESPECTFUL BECAUSE THEY ARE RESPECTING HER WISHES🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂. THE GAME IS AFOOT, ALL A SMOKESCREEN, ANOTHER WORD NEEDING EXPLAINING BUT PLEASE LOOK IT UP, MY HANDS ARE NEARING THE END, SORRY. MADAM IS SO STUPID🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂, BEING THE NARCISSIST THAT SHE IS THE LAST THING SHE WANTS IS TO BE FINANCIALLY INDEPENDENT, LIVING ON VI. NO PUBLICITY, IN THE WOODS😂😂😂😂😂. THERE IS A GREAT SAYING, I DO NOT KNOW THE ORIGIN BUT WILL LOOK IT UP AT SOME POINT, BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR BECAUSE YOU MIGHT JUAT GET IT!! WELL SHE HAS GOTTEN IT ALLRIGHT AND THERE IS PLENTY MORE TO COME😂😂😂😂😂.

CAMILLA CANNOT STAND MADAM, THE GARDEN PARTY VIDEO ASKING FOR HELP🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂, REFUSING TO ATTEND THE GATHERING OF UNHAPPY PEOPLE TO DO A S HOOL OUTING, THE CATHEDRAL VIDEO WHERE SHE IGNORES MADAM AND RUBS HER OWN TUMMY WHILST SMILING AT CATHERINE ETC ETC. CAMILLA IS 110% APPROVAL OF THIS!!

“ circle the wagons LG” …………” Burn that f**** olive branch, once bitten”………” a Canadian tour , with the children, OMG! Touché!!……… inde redire eruditionis Habes

HMTQ, PP TALKING WITH LG, THE FAMILY NEEDS BROUGHT TOGETHER, PHYSICALLY TO PROTECT HARRY AND THE MONARCHY! THE TERM, MM ANON HAS USED BEFORE. CIRCLE THE WAGONS, IS QUITE LITERAL, OR WAS. WHEN THE PIONEERS MOVED WEST IN NORTH AMERICA, OVERTAKING NATIVE LAND NATURALLY THE INDIGENOUS POPULATION WAS NOT HAPPY. THERE WAS A LOT OF VIOLENCE AND BLOODSHED. THEY LITERALLY CIRCLED THE WAGONS AND HID INSIDE THE CIRCLE SHOOTING THEIR GUNS OUT AT THE INDIANS.

MADAM GOT EVERYTHING SHE WANTED YESTERDAY BUT THEN CHANGED HER MIND, NO NOT LIVING PARTIALLY IN THE U.K. AND ABROAD. NO NO NOPE NO U.K. SHE JUST CANNOT GET OUT OF HER OWN WAY!!

TO EXTEND AN OLIVE BRACH, THE TERM GOES WAY WAY BACK, BUT IT MEANS TO GIVE SOMETHING TO MAKE SOMEONE HAPPY IN A DISPUTE, THATS THE SHORT DEFINITION. WELL IT INITIALLY WORKED BUT WHEN MADAM HAD TIME TO THINK NO,SHE WANTED MORE YET, NO U.K. NOPE NOT GONNA DO IT. NOPE!!

PP SAYING BURN THE BLEEPING OLIVE BRANCH!! ONCE BITTEN,TWICE SHY. THIS IS ANOTHER OLD PHRASE HE JUST USED THE FIRST PART. EXAMPLE, DOG COMES UP, YOU PET HIM HE BITES YOU. WOULD YOU PET HIM AGAIN? I DONT THINK SO. THIS PHRASE IS NOT EXCLUSIVE TO BITING. EXAMPLE FRIENDS ASKS FOR MONEY , HE’S DESPERATE, YOU GIVE BUT NEVER GET PAID BACK AND ITS NEVER MENTIONED. THEN HE ASKS AGAIN FOR MONEY WOULD YOU GIVE?? DOES THIS MAKE SENSE, I HOPE SO, I TRY EVER SO HARD, FOLKS ALL OVER THE WORLD READ THESE AND I WANT EVERYONE TO UNDERSTAND THE SLANG WORDS OR SAYINGS.

MADAM, ON PAPER, HAS AN OBSESSION WITH LIVING IN CANADA. NOW KIDS, ALL OF ADULTS KNOW WHY, TAXES!! A CAMBRIDGE TOUR OF 🇨🇦 CANADA, WITH THE ENTIRE FAMILY IN TOW, HOW MARVELLOUS. 💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜CAN YOU POP BY MY PLACE AND SAY HI PG??💜💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜😁😁😁😊😊😊😁😁😁 OH YOUR MAJESTY, TOUCHÉ INDEED. MADAM WOULD BE SCREAMING LIKE A BANSHEE🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂🤣🤣. THEY WILL GETS SUCH HUGE CROWDS AND A WARM LOVING RECEPTION, THE LIKES OF WHICH MADAM CAN ONLY DREAM OF, AND EVEN HER DREAMS WOULD NOT DO IT JUSTICE. 💜💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻YOUR MAJESTY, I WOULD CURTSEY, WERE I PHYSICALLY ABLE TO CHEERS🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 🥂.

inde redire eruditionis Habes

And repeat learning you

ONE LEARNS THE HARD WAY, LIFE IS FOR LEARNING. WOW OUR DEAR HARRY HAS LEARNED HASN’T HE? SURELY HE WAS A VICTIM! MILLIONS OF BOOTY CALLS HAPPEN DAILY, THIS WAS COMPLETELY UNFORESEEABLE. 💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻HARRY YOU ARE LOVED MORE THAN YOU KNOW. I PRAY FOR A VERY HAPPY LIFE FOR YOU. YOUR TIME WITH HER IS OVER, LOTS TO DEAL WIT TO BE SURE.

ITS INTERESTING, A FEW DAYS AGO, SOMEONE MADE A POST ON SKIPPY’S BLOG ABOUT MY ERUDITE WRITING. LITERALLY FROM THE LATIN TRANSLATES AS , SOUNDING LIKE YODA IT IS 💜💜💜💜AND REPEAT LEARNING YOU💜💜💜💜. ERUDITE IS SIMPLY, RATHER NOT SIMPLY BUT DEMONSTRATING A VAST ARRAY OF KNOWLEDGE WHICH BECOMES EVIDENT IN CONVERSATION OR I GUESS IN TUMBLR IT WOULD BE THROUGH ONE’S WRITINGS. . My DEAR MM ANON, MIGHT I BE SO BOLD, BECAUSE YOU AND I HAVE GOTTEN TO KNOW ONE ANOTHER VIA THESE RIDDLES AND INTERPRETATIONS , MIGHT I BE SO BOLD AS TO SUGGEST THAT A PART OF THIS IS REFERRING TO MY SKILLS OF INTERPRETING YOUR RIDDLES??

1455 hrs CST

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

Thank you PG looks great….😊💜💜💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

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170: Jan 16

LET THAT SINK IN KIDS, THIS IS MY 160TH RIDDLE INTERPRETATION, WOW WOW WOW☺️☺️😊💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

skippyv20

MM Anon I just found this!

MM ANON,……… sea-plane PR. ……… where’s Harry?………… “ leaves 15million mansion visits poor shelter 🤣🤣🤣………… so broke,(woke)……… Paternal hurricane ……… Royal courts of Justice ……… “ write me a roll”………… “what Megan wants, Megan forgets”:……… Calipornia politics? ………… “she can be the new AOC” ……… she’ll campaign for Dems……… “OW ,tell all coming”. ……… negotiations,negotiations!!! …… W&K kill it !!!

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

RIDDLE #170!!!! January 16/2020

0020 hrs CST SKIPPY JUST FOUND THE RIDDLE JUST POSTED!

MM Anon I just found this!

sea-plane PR. ……… where’s Harry?………… “ leaves 15million mansion visits poor shelter 🤣🤣🤣………… so broke,(woke)

MADAM IS LIKE WHERES WALDO, SHE “ALLEGEDLY” POPS UP IN THE ODDEST PLACES, IN PHOTOSHOPPED, ALLEGEDLY BUT LETS BE CLEAR THEY ARE PHOTOSHOPPED PHOTOS AT THE ODDEST ANGLES, IN PHOTOS FROM THE SAME DAY, ALLEGEDLY, THE SWEATER CHANGES, HER BOOTS CHANGE, HER THIGH SIZE CHANGES, HER NECKLACE CHANGE FROM A GOLD CIRCLE THING TO A WHALE, EARRINGS ON, THEN OFF, HAIR LENGTH CHANGES. ITS LIKE YOU FEEL INSANE LOOKING AT THESE PHOTOS AND THEN YOU REALIZE YOU ARE THE SANE ONE🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂THIS CALIFORNIA GIRL, LEAVES THE MANSION, AND ALL ITS COMFORTS, TO FLY PUBLIC IN A SEAPLANE TO VISIT THE MOST DIFFICULT PART OF THE CITY. I CALL BS, OR AS COLONEL POTTER ON M*A*S*H USED TO SAY, HORSE HOKKY 😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣. SHE IS DOING ALL OF THIS ON HER DEVICE FROM WHEREVER SHE IS IN CUSTODY, AT SOHO, ETC.

HARRY APPEARS IN NONE, DESPITE HE WAS TO FLY OUT RIGHT AFTER THE BIG MEETING AT SANDRINGHAM. THURSDAY HE HAS THE RUGBY AT BP. HE WAS SUPPOSED TO FLY OUT AFTER THAT. NOW BP HAS SOME APPEARANCES FOR HIM NEXT WEEK. I LOVE THE LINE IN THE ARTICLE POSTED ON THE BLOG” as the story changes “ SOMETHING LIKE THAT. THIS IS ALL CONTINUED KABUKI KIDS. I DO NOT BELIEVE FOR ONE SINGLE SECOND SHE IS CURRENTLY IN VI. SHE HAS CALLED IN THE FEW FAVOURS SHE HAS LEFT. SHE HAS TO MERCH!! EVEN TWO YEAR OLD PARKA CAN BRING MONEY IN L GUESS .

TERRIBLE SNOWY STORMY WEATHER IN VANCOUVER, YET OUT SHE GOES, TO ENLIGHTEN THE POOREST OF THE POOR IN A VANCOUVER WOMENS CENTRE. HER MYSOGYNISTIC USE OF OTHER AT RISK WOMEN, IS VILE, DISGUSTING EVIL, THE WORKS OF SATAN!!

Paternal hurricane ……… Royal courts of Justice ……… “ write me a roll”…………

WELL ITS COMING KIDS, NETTY IS DOING HIS BIT. THE CHIEF JUSTICE AND OTHER JUSTICES(JUDGES) OF THE COURT OF ENGLAND AND WALES ARE ON THE CASE. DNA WILL BE REVEALED, HARRY WILL BE TOLD HE IS NOT THE FATHER, FEIGN SHICK DEVASTATION ETC ETC. THIS WILL BE A MASSIVE PR HURRICANE. PATERNAL MEANS FATHER OR OF THE FATHER SIDE OF THE FAMILY. I WONDER IF THEY KNOW OR WILL REVEAL THE TRUE FATHER, LIKELY NOT.PROTECTING THE BABY IS PARAMOUNT. WRITE ME A ROLL😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣 , NO THE JUSTICES WONT WRITE HER A ROLE, AS IN ACTING, IT WILL BE A ROLL, AS IN DECREE OF GUILT OR INNOCENCE. REMEMBER THE FANCY GOLDEN SCROLL DR GOT FOR THE ENGAGEMENT? LEGAL PAPERS ARE WRITTEN KIND OF LIKE THAT BUT NOT, IF THAT MAKES SENSE. BASICALLY THE VERDICT, WRITE THE VERDICT FOR THE PUBLIC RECORD. OH THIS WILL BE SOOOO GOOD.

INFORMATION RE ROLLS FROM WIKI….

Keeper or Master of the Rolls and Records of the Chancery of England, known as the Master of the Rolls, is the President of the Court of Appeal of England and Wales, Civil Division, and Head of Civil Justice. As a judge, he is the second in seniority in England and Wales only to the Lord Chief Justice, who is Baron Maldonado, Lord Ian Duncan Burnett or NETTY, PP LONG TERM MATE!! The Master of the Rolls was initially a clerk responsible for keeping the “Rolls” or records. End wiki.

“what Megan wants, Megan forgets”:……… Calipornia politics? ………… “she can be the new AOC” ……… she’ll campaign for Dems……… “

NO MORE WHAT SHE WANTS AND GETS NOW ITS FORGETS. SHE MISSES ALL THE SMALL DETAILS

AOC, DESPITE THE INTERNET HAVING BEEN SCRUBBED BY THE BEST, OUR TEAM HERE , STIL FIND MANY GLARING DISCREPANCIES, BE IT IN THE SEAPLANE, THE MAGIC SNOW THAT ONLY FELL IN PART OF THE PHOTO, ALL THE DISCREPANCIES, YOU READ THE BLOG YOU KNOW THEM!

AOC, NEWLY ELECTED TO THE CONGRESS IN AMERICA AOC, AS SHE HAS BECOME KNOWN, EASIER TO TYPE. AOC IS WIKI💜💜💜Alexandria Ocasio-Cortezis a politician and activist who serves as the U.S. Representative for New York’s 14th congressional district. is an American politician and activist who serves as the U.S. Representative for New York’s 14th congressional district. 💜💜 SHE HAS BEEN VERY OUTSPOKEN AND POLARIZING BUT NO POLITICS TALK. MADAM IS PROBABLY OOZING TO GET THE PRESS AOC GETS!!

IS THE BACKERS NEW PLAN TO HAVE HER RUN FOR SOME DEMOCRATIC POSITION IN THE 2029 AMERICAN ELECTION AS THE NEW AOC BRAND ?🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂 WOW THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY MIGHT WANT TO THINK TWICE ABOIT THIS, SHE MAY BE IN CUSTODY😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣.

“OW ,tell all coming”. ……… negotiations,negotiations!!!

RUMOURS AGAIN OF A TELL ALL BY MADAM, WITH OW NO LESS COUGH BACKER, COUGH COUGH BACKER!!!! LOTS OF BACK AND FORTH TO ARRANGE, DISCUSS, MERCH ETC ETC ETC. MAKES ME SICK.EVIL EVIL EVIL PERNICIOUS WOMAN. OK KIDS INWONT POST HAMLET ANYMORE BUTTHAT FITS HER SO PERFECTLY!!

W&K kill it !!!

THEY ARE ON FIRE IN TERMS OF BEING LOVED AND POPULARITY, ALL BASED ON REALITY NOTHING FAKE OR PRETENTIOUS. WHEN WILLIAM GAVE CATHERINE THAT WHITE ROSE TODAY I TEARED UP, IT WAS A MOMENT BETWEEN THE TWO, SO SPECIAL. ANYTHING MADAM DOES, THEY GET MORE LOVE, RESPECT AND ATTENTION FOR JUST SMILING. THEY ARE GOING TO , AS THE KIDS SAYS, SLAY IN 2020!! THEIR CHILDREN CONTINUE TO GROW AND WHO DOESN’T LIVE THEM?? WAIT UNTIL WE SEE MORE OF BOSS BABY TURNED INTO BOSS TODDLER, IT WILL BE CRAZY POPULARITY!! A TOUR OF CANADA 🇨🇦 AMD AMERICA PERHAPS, OH PLEASE DO STOP IN, SAY HELLO, I WOULD DIE, ABSOLUTELY DIE IF THAT HAPPENED. WERE I ABLE TO TRAVEL I WOULD GO TO WHERE THEY WILL VISIT. 2020 IS GOING TO DRIVE THEIR POPULARITY EVEN HIGHER. I CANNOT WAIT!!💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜. 0105 hrs CST

Wow! PG it sounds like we are in the home stretch doesn’t it! How we have prayed for this! I can’t wait! Thank you, so appreciate this….wow…you have done soooo many….wow!😊💜💜💜💜

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nhattuantrinh · 3 years

Text

đặng thế phong

When I, based on what I had read, said that Elvis Presley renewed the music of the black American musicians, a music nerd told me that he, at the same time, impoverished their music. These two propositions are not inconsistent. What Elvis did was probably an act of selection and remix. While he chose what to keep, he simultaneously also chose what to leave behind.

It was in fact how history works. If reality were to be visually represented as a complex net with multiple dimensions, then what necessarily happened was actually one dimension. When one possibility becomes a necessity, other possibilities cease to exist. On the one hand, it could be interpreted as the impoverishment of possibilities. On the other hand, there exists the contingency in reality which leads to a new condition of richness and new possibilities. May this be somehow related to what Deleuze means by repetition and difference. That history is visually similar to genetic inheritance, a chromosome may adopt the old materials and plug in the new materials, which engender the phenomenon of mutation.

For instance, take a look at how our humankind evolved, we could see that homo sapiens was just one branch among other branches of primate. But after all, we are the only species that evolved into modern humans. And human history is thus just one of many histories of animal species, yet to us, it’s everything. What seems so obvious today was in fact just a possibility of yesterday.

That’s why people who are not satisfied with the narrow path of a determined reality would trace back the origin of everything to question the legitimacy of such a reality and hope for another possibility, just like how Nietzsche and Foucault studied morality and sexuality or prison and madness with genealogy method. I did talk about this in another post, The possibilities of other realities.

Because of the cruelty of evolution, the act of preserving, saving, keeping, reviving, was nothing more than the effort to make sense of our existence in front of the ever-changing, absurd nature of the universe. Some of us simply cannot bear the fact that one day, ca trù or cải lương will disappear forever. We tried to make them meaningful by regarding them as human intangible cultural heritage, but it was just another moaning sound of the worms being trampled by the angles (Cioran). Nothing lasts forever.

Now, talking about the evolution of Vietnamese culture, what was happening during the period of 1932-1940 was abolishing things that had existed and constructing things that have not yet come. Within this period lies the beginnings of chữ quốc ngữ, Vietnamese modern literature, modern drama, modern architecture and modern music. But because of the abolishment and construction themselves, many possibilities have been abandoned. For example, music has lost its local features and ceased to continue as it used to be. What was once so ubiquitous now became the research topics of ethnographic music experts like Trần Văn Khê.

The composers of the period 1938-1945 had chosen some certain forms of music and developed from there. Most of them were influenced by French music. They adopted and remixed the materials. Thus, the new music is heterogeneous.

The development of Vietnamese modern music from 1938 until 2000, at a first glance, seems grandiose in terms of quantity, but in fact, it has very little difference or diversity, and is mainly based on the repetition of what was set out in 1938. There have been very few people who go deeper into the traditional and national music materials to have a radical creation. Most artists simply adopted the influences of American, Russian, Chinese and classical music to consolidate the available path.

It is impossible for Vietnam to create such unique and still popular genres such as Jazz, Hip hop or Reggae. Trần Văn Khê had a great contribution in appreciating and promoting Vietnamese traditional music to the world, but he is not an artist. Without the real musician, Vietnamese music is, as a whole, penurious.

In the age of the Internet, international music genres were imported to Vietnam, which initiated the new genres, but overall, it is nothing original. Who could be regarded as those who could probably create something new, based on the original? I would say they are Nguyễn Thiện Đạo, Nguyên Lê, Ngô Hồng Quang, Hương Thanh, Ngọc Đại, or Kim Ngọc. However, their path could never reach the mainstream, partly because they do not have the intention to popularize their music, or maybe the mass audience simply have no interests in these kinds of music. Maybe the level is just too high to be appreciated by the mass audience.

Basically, it is undeniable to say that Vietnamese popular songs are those with lyrics. Lyrics and music are intertwined and frequently treated as a whole in Vietnam. The most credited composers, that is to say Phạm Duy, Văn Cao and Trịnh Công Sơn, pay fairly enough attention to the creation of lyrics, so that their songs are highly evaluated partly because of the lyrics. It is, therefore, acceptable to treat pop song lyrics as an area that is worth investigating and a part of Vietnamese literature, and the history of modern music could possibly be related to the history of Vietnamese literature.

Now, let’s talk about Đặng Thế Phong. Indeed, his life has not much to talk about. The only outstanding aspect of his life, in the relation to literary history, is that among his circle of friends, there is one famous writer, Phạm Cao Củng.

Đặng Thế Phong nhận được nhiều yêu mến có lẽ phần nào vì cuộc đời ông dễ xếp vào loại «tài năng đoản mệnh» như trường hợp Nguyễn Nhược Pháp, Vũ Trọng Phụng hay Hàn Mặc Tử. Chết trẻ, nhất là chết trước 1945, còn có cái lợi là thoát được một mớ dấm dớ của thời cuộc.

Nhưng chắc lý do chính vẫn là, nhạc của Đặng Thế Phong làm rung động được những người cùng thế hệ với ông. Nếu lấy mốc thời điểm bắt đầu của tân nhạc là 1938, tức cái năm mà Nguyễn Văn Tuyên định danh cái hiện tượng văn nghệ đang sửa soạn thành hình là «âm nhạc cải cách», thì Đặng Thế Phong mặc dù chỉ xuất hiện chưa đầy 2 năm sau đó, đã có những bài hát nổi tiếng như Đêm thu, Con thuyền không bến và Giọt mưa thu.

Thật khó để xác định được Đặng Thế Phong nổi tiếng như thế nào vào thời điểm mà ông xuất hiện, chỉ biết là các tập nhạc của ông được tái bản nhiều lần ở miền Nam sau khi ông mất. Và vô tình, ta có thể tìm thấy hai lời chứng như sau:

«À này, chị có biết cậu thích nhạc của ai nhất không? Cậu mê nhất là nhạc Đặng Thế Phong. Sau đó là Văn Cao. Thứ nữa mới đến Phạm Duy. Nhưng cậu thích lời nhạc

Phạm Duy. Cậu mê cái câu này. Người về ấm lũy tre xanh... Cậu nói sao mà hay thế!»

(Nguyễn Tường Thiết, Nhất Linh cha tôi)

«Ngày xưa, có một lần Nguyễn Tuân, Hoàng Trung Thông về Đông Anh cùng với vợ chồng Nguyễn Hồng Phong – Ngọc Trai. Phong quê ở Đông Anh. Đêm ấy họ đi xem một đoàn cải lương Nam Bộ biểu diễn vở gì đó ở bên cạnh thành Cổ Loa.

Nguyễn Tuân nhớ gần đó có làng Quậy – rượu Quậy rất ngon – quê một đào hát ông đã quen rất lâu. Họ bèn đến hỏi thăm thì được biết cô đào ấy đã thắt cổ tự tử rồi vì bị quy là phản động gì đó trong cải cách ruộng đất. Buồn quá! Họ uống rượu, rượu rất ngon, đúng là rượu Quậy.

Nguyễn Tuân vừa uống vừa khóc, vừa hát đi hát lại bài hát rất buồn của Đặng Thế Phong: Ngoài hiên giọt mưa thu thánh thót rơi… »

(Hồi ký Nguyễn Đăng Mạnh)

Cả Nhất Linh Nguyễn Tường Tam lẫn Nguyễn Tuân đều nghe nhạc của Đặng Thế Phong. Như vậy, có thể thấy Đặng Thế Phong cũng có sức ảnh hưởng không hề nhỏ.

Tuy vậy, dấu vết của Đặng Thế Phong trong lịch sử văn học có lẽ không đáng kể mấy. Ngay cả khi chúng ta có xem lời bài hát như một bộ phận của văn chương, thì lời bài hát của Đặng Thế Phong không hoàn toàn do ông biên soạn, mà được hỗ trợ từ bạn bè (chẳng hạn như Bùi Công Kỳ viết lời cho Giọt mưa thu). Hơn nữa, lấy mỹ cảm của thời nay mà thẩm bình, phần lời của ông rất khuôn sáo, chưa thoát được cái lối tả cảnh nhàm chán của Thơ Mới thời kỳ đầu.

Rất có thể Đặng Thế Phong đã có công nào đó trong việc trưng dụng các chất liệu của nhạc Tây phương và nâng nó lên một tầm cao mới? Nhưng do không am hiểu về nhạc lý nên xin phép không bình luận.

Tuy vậy, có một điểm đáng nói là Đặng Thế Phong là “đệ” của Phạm Cao Củng, từng cộng tác cho một tờ báo do Phạm Cao Củng chủ trương, nhưng với tư cách họa sĩ và nhạc sĩ, chứ không sáng tác văn chương như ta thấy trong trường hợp của Thạch Chương, tức Cung Tiến, trên tờ Sáng Tạo sau này. Đặng Thế Phong vẽ minh họa cho truyện của Phạm Cao Củng, sáng tác một số bài hát cho học sinh và hướng đạo sinh, như bài Sáng trăng, Sáng trong rừng hay Gắng bước lên chùa (do Phạm Cao Củng đặt lời, in trên báo Tin Mới năm 1940). Jason Gibbs có đặt ra giả thuyết người có bút danh Hoàng Thái đã đặt lời cho bài Đêm thu cũng chính là Phạm Cao Củng.

Thời bấy giờ, Phạm Cao Củng có khá nhiều mối quan hệ. Ông quen với Phùng Bảo Thạch (là cái ông làm cho Nguyễn Tuân đi tù ở Vụ Bản năm 1941), Lan Khai, Lưu Trọng Lư trong thời gian viết báo cho nhà Mai Lĩnh của ông Đỗ Xuân Mai. Cũng thông qua Phạm Cao Cũng mà Đặng Thế Phong quen với Hoàng Quý và Tô Vũ.

GIỌT MƯA THU (Đặng Thế Phong & Bùi Công Kỳ)

NXB Hương Mộc Lan (09/07/1949)

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daggerzine · 6 years

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Awaking Up Together- Ben Crum discusses the different lives of Great Lakes.

It was the S/T debut in 2000 that was released on Kindercore that initially got me interested. I loved most everything on that label so when a cd by a band called Great Lakes popped into my po box I was excited to check it out. Like a few of the others under the Elephant 6 moniker, (Apples in Stereo, Olivia Tremor Control, etc.) it exuded a sort-of grandiose 60’s pop charm with bits of psychedelia and some beautiful noise ala Pavement, too. Other records followed (including the brand spankin’ new, and very good, Dreaming Too Close to the Edge) and along the way Crum lended his skills to bands such as Ladybug Transistor and the Essex Green. The more recent Great Lakes records have been a bit darker, more guitar heavy (less sunshine pop) than previous records but still with excellent songwriting and an overflow of hooks. I wanted to know a bit about Crum and what made him tick and when I shot some questions his way he was more than happy to expound and expand on his life from the early days until present day. If you’ve never heard the music of Great Lakes then by all means check out one of their many releases, each one with its own distinct personality. Read on dear fans….

L-R- Kevin Shea, Suzanne Nienaber, Kenny Wachtel, Chris Talsness and Ben Crum

Where did you grow up?

Mt. Airy, Maryland, though I finished high school in suburban Atlanta.

What was the first band that made you take notice?

The Descendents was really the first band that I was in to. I mean, I was discovering classic rock at the same time, but that 80s punk stuff was big for me. I came to them through skateboarding videos. They’re still one of my favorite bands, though I confess I haven’t kept up with their latest music. Fugazi was also an early big one for me. That first EP especially. I also loved, and still love, The Misfits.

When did you first pick up an instrument? Was it a guitar?

I was required by my mother, who played piano, to take piano lessons. She made me practice right after school. While sitting at the piano practicing my scales I could hear the other neighborhood kids playing and having fun. I found it miserable at the time. But my piano teacher let me come early to the lessons. She had a giant leather recliner and a nice stereo system with headphones. She’d let me play whatever records I wanted to listen to. That was my introduction to CCR. The main lick from “Down On the Corner” really grabbed me as a kid. That and the lead guitar part from “Up Around the Bend” had really caught my attention.

By middle school I chose to be in the school band. That lasted about one year. I think I mainly did it because I didn’t like the other options. I “played” saxophone. When I was about 14 I was watching Maryland public TV and I saw the One Night With You movie with Elvis. It’s taken from the 68 Comeback Special. I still love that stuff. I got out my mom’s old nylon string guitar and started teaching myself to play. I begged my parents to let me trade my sax for a steel string Guild acoustic. I took a few lessons, but those didn’t really take. I learned to play “Dust In the Wind” though.

What was your introduction to independent music? Was it hardcore? New wave? Something else?

I used to have a skateboard ramp in my backyard. All kinds of people would hear about it and come to my house to skate. There was an older dude who had a hardcore band and he gave me his 7 inch when I was about 15. That must’ve planted the seed in my mind that independently putting music out was something I could do. Before then, I don’t think it had occurred to me.

What was your first band? And how/when did Great Lakes come about? That was in Athens, GA, right?

It’s all kinda related, to me. The way I got started in doing music was that during breaks from college, around 92-93, I started getting together with high school friend, Dan Donahue, when we were both visiting our parents in Atlanta. We would write songs and record them on 4 track. We liked Galaxie 500/early Luna, The Flaming Lips, Pavement, Dinosaur Jr. And I remember he liked The Chickasaw Mudpuppies a lot and got me in to that stuff. He didn’t really play an instrument, though in the early days neither did I, really, so we both played whatever we could. He liked writing lyrics, though. That was his main thing. It always felt like a chore to me, and I was happy to have him be the lyricist. We called ourselves The Patty Melts. We had a song called “I’m Alive” that was kind of a fictional blues about how bad life was for the narrator, but the idea was that at least he was alive. A choice nugget of the lyrics, referring the guy’s wife, went: “ she’s a briarpatch with an eyepatch”, and later the narrator says: “…gettin’ my ass up is a damn chore.” We made a pretty cool 4 track recording of that song. I had this homemade 4 string fretless instrument that my dad and brother had built. I’ve still got it. It was made out of paneling for the body and a piece of molding for the neck. The tuners were eye screws, screwed right into the wood. I tuned it to an open chord and played slide on it with a screwdriver as the slide. So we made this Chickasaw Mudpuppies-inspired song with that. By about 94 I started visiting Dan in Athens, where he was in college, and we would write songs and try to record them. Jamey Huggins, who was then in high school but came to Athens a lot on breaks and weekends, joined us on drums. We were all really into Teenage Fanclub by that time, and one night we stayed up all night and wrote a song that we thought was so good that we had to start a band one day. Even then, I was focused on the recording. Unless we had a cool recording of a song, it was as if it almost didn’t really exist. I think we all felt that way. I still do.

Meanwhile, I was in a band in college in Birmingham, Alabama with some friends. We were first called a few different names that I’ve forgotten, but when we started playing shows we were calling ourselves Wonderock, like a superhero or something. We had a couple good songs, actually. I remember getting some encouragement from the sound guy when we played our first show at The Nick. He was a pretty grizzled old guy, Johnny Mack, and he came up to us after our set and said begrudgingly, “Well, my toe was tapping and my toe don’t lie to me…” One of the members of that band, Craig Ceravolo, moved to Athens with me in 96 and went on to play in the earliest version of Great Lakes. Another member of that band formed a band called Three Finger Cowboy. They were on Amy Ray’s label and, I think, did a tour or two opening for The Indigo Girls. After that band I had a short-lived band with Craig, Jason Hamric, and Jamey, called Alaska. Craig, Jason, and I all lived together in Southside, and Jamey had come to Birmingham to stay with us for the summer. I think we chose the name because of that line in “Stephanie Says:, “It’s such an icy feeling / It’s so cold in Alaska”. We also called ourselves Cherry Valence for a bit (this was back before there was a band called The Cherry Valence). Anyway, that band had 3 members of what would become Great Lakes in it. I tried to convince Jason Hamric to leave Birmingham and move to Athens with us, but he wasn’t into that idea. He definitely would have been in Great Lakes, though, if he had moved with us. Great player, and great guy. So, anyway, in Athens, Dan joined us as a lyricist, and we merged Alaska/Cherry Valence and Wheelie Ride and The Patty Melts and became Great Lakes. And then Great Lakes evolved over time. But it wasn’t until 2009 or so that the current iteration, the longest running consistent lineup the band has ever had, came together. But Great Lakes is really more than a band to me. It’s what I consider my life’s work as an artist.

Tell me about your tenure in both the Ladybug Transistor and the Essex Green.

Well, when I got to Athens I arrived right as the Elephant 6 thing was coalescing. The first Neutral Milk Hotel and Olivia Tremor Control records had just come out and they blew me away. Elf Power, too. All those guys were into 4 track recording, like us, but, of course, they were way more advanced. We became friends with that whole group of people. And then, after years of recording (including really learning how to record), the first Great Lakes album came out on Kindercore/E6. Ladybug Transistor had a connection to E6. Their album The Albemarle Sound had certainly caught nearly everyone’s attention that year. I mean, if you liked Love and The Beach Boys and Van Dyke Parks’ Song Cycle and stuff like that, then that record was pretty much made for you. We loved it. That and that Lilys record that sounded like The Kinks (Better Can’t Make Your Life Better). Through E6 connections some of the people in Ladybug asked the Kindercore guys to release the first record by their other band, Essex Green. Kindercore happily did. We played a show or two together with Essex Green and Ladybug in Athens, which was fun. We hung out and kinda bonded over shared musical tastes, they way you can only really do when you’re in your 20s, it seems like. A few years later when I moved to Brooklyn they were some of the only people I knew. Jeff Baron, of both bands, immediately asked me to get together with him and Mike Barrett and play some music. We quickly realized that not only did we all love 60s psych and pop, but we also really loved old country music and the whole Flying Burrito Brothers style of country rock. Because we each knew so many country songs, and because we just loved to play, we would get together and play a lot. Mike and Jeff lived together, and had a cool little low volume set up in their apartment, and we’d hand out and play for hours, swapping instruments and trading off singing lead on all kinds of stuff. Eventually we started doing some of Mike’s originals, and Jeff and I would do some tunes. We talked about making a record, possibly of Mike’s original songs, and probably should have. But for some reason we ended up not doing that. But, like I said, we had a bunch of fun. It was also like some kind of music school for me, in a way. Jeff and Mike helped me train my ear to hear the changes, and to improvise. Previously, a live show for me had been about basically just executing what I’d written beforehand; but I came to see music differently through that experience of playing with those guys. I mean, with them, nothing ever sounded the same way twice, and I learned to love that. Then, soon after, Essex Green didn’t have a bass player for a tour they had booked, so they invited me to play. Tim Barnes (Silver Jews, Royal Trux) was on drums for the first tour or two that I did with them, and between Jeff’s great guitar playing and Tim’s incredible drumming and way of listening and responding, it was a great experience. That lineup of that band was definitely one of the best bands I ever played in. We did a tour or two with other drummers, and despite the fact that the Essex Green songs are great and I love playing with them, there came a point when I decided to bow out and focus on a new Great Lakes record, which became Diamond Times. But after that album came out Gary of Ladybug found himself without a guitarist. I guess Jeff didn’t want to do it at that point, so I started playing guitar with him. We did several tours, sometimes with Ladybug Transistor and Great Lakes on the same bill, and then we made what I call the Buckingham Kicks album together (officially titled Can’t Wait Another Day). I wanted to change the band name to Buckingham Kicks and release a self-titled debut, because the album we did was so different from previous LT albums, but Gary decided against that. The great thing about joining Ladybug Transistor, apart from playing with Gary, who is one of the better singers around, was that I got to play with longtime Ladybug drummer San Fadyl. He was another fantastic drummer, and he taught me tons as a musician. After he died tragically, my days in that band were numbered. But Gary soldiered on and made another record, and he’s still doing stuff now. I think he’ll keep making great records for a long time. I’d like to think that I’ll do more stuff together with the Essex Green/Ladybug Transistor folks. We’ve talked about wanting to do something, but logistically it’s a little tough. Maybe one day, though. There’s a new Essex Green coming out soon, though. I’ve been listening to it and it’s great.

When did you move to Brooklyn? What prompted the move?

I moved in 2002. I think I stayed in Athens a little too long for me. I’m not saying people shouldn’t stay in Athens. It’s a great place and I love it. But I was there 6 years, and it’s a small southern town, you know? That has its up and downsides. I think I should have left a little before then, but I didn’t for some reason. The way I actually ended up moving is that my girlfriend at the time was moving and I came along. We promptly broke up, but I stayed in New York because I liked it. Though New York is expensive, it’s a fun place to raise a family. We got to the Catskills, we have a great beach nearby, and we live in a community that is progressive politically. That goes a long way.

Tell us about the new Great Lakes record, Dreaming Too Close to the Edge. Where was it recorded? Who played on it?

Dreaming Too Close to the Edge, the 6th Great Lakes record, ended up being the third in a series of three records that sort of share a lyrical theme. The previous two, Ways of Escape and Wild Vision, are much more country-inflected, however. I think those two are good records, but they’re kinda heavy in terms of the moods and subject matter. This new one feels more fun to me. The subject matter is still pretty heavy, but the songs are back in major keys again. I think it’s a really strong batch of songs. I’m proud of it. I think with Ways of Escape I finally really found myself as a songwriter. I think the stuff I’ve done since that record has been my best work, and this new one feels very strong to me.

The lineup is pretty much the same as played on the previous two records. The drummer is Kevin Shea. He’s been with me for over 10 years now. Suzanne Nienaber sings with me again. Kenny Wachtel plays some guitar. Joe McGinty is back on keys, and Dave Gould on bass. There are a couple other people who played on a song here and there, Luis Leal played mellotron on a aong, and Andrew Rieger did a guest vocal on one song. They’re great musicians, all of them. And just nice, easy-going people. I have no intention to shake up that lineup. As long as those lovely people want to play with me, they’ve got the gig. Of course, it’s different when you’re in your late 30s and early 40s. We’re not trying to tour the world, and I really don’t have ambitions beyond making what I think are good records, and maybe playing the occasional show.

As for the recording of Dreaming, the drums were recorded at Brian Eno’s old space in Gowanus, Brooklyn. I think Martin Bisi has been there for 30 years or more. There’s a documentary film about the place. It’s now called Seizure’s Palace (when Jason LaFarge is behind the desk). It’s a huge room, but Jason’s got a great handle on getting good drum sounds in that space. A Boredoms record or two were done there, as well as several Swans records. It’s a great and really weird space. The keyboards were tracked at Joe McGinty’s vintage keys studio, Carousel, in Greenpoint. I played with him and got to know him through Ladybug Transistor (especially when we were rehearsing with Kevin Ayers, but he was also a good friend of San’s, too). Nearly everything else was done in my home studio. And I went to Don Piper’s Brooklyn studio to track vocals. He’s got a Neve desk there, and gets nice sounds. The record was mixed by Steve Silverstein, who mixed each of the last three records. Steve and I have a long relationship of working together, and he’s great.

Is Loose Trucks your own label? Do you release other music other than your own on it?

Yes. My old friends Andrew and Laura of Elf Power run Orange Twin Records in Athens. They put out a couple Great Lakes records, but for Wild Vision, the 5th record, Andrew suggested to me that there was really no reason anymore to give them a cut of the money. He just hooked me up with their distributor and I started my own label. So far, so good. But I teamed up with Mike Turner (of HHBTM Records, and the guy who released the first ever Great Lakes 7”) to help me with distribution this time. I think that’ll be a positive thing. The truth is, I’d never want to start a label, necessarily, but it just made sense for me to do it.

I haven’t released anything else on the label except the last two Great Lakes records, and I really don’t have any desire to do so.

Who are some of your favorite current bands or musicians?

Steve Gunn. I especially love Way Out Weather. That’s the modern record that I’ve listened to the most in recent years. I love the Fahey meets drone-y raga thing; but it’s the strength of the compositions and the melodies that I find elevates it above other records in that style. I also think David-Ivar from the band Herman Dune is one of the most criminally underrated songwriters around these days. And Bill Callahan has long been a favorite of mine. I think he’s peerless.

What is one musician you’d say who’s had the biggest impact on your music?

My biggest influence as a guitar player is/was Dean Wareham. First, I always thought his sound was really cool. And his solos and lead playing, from Galaxie 500 on, has all been consistently great. I mean, as a beginning guitar player I’d sing along with the guitar solos. It doesn’t happen that often, when the long guitar solo or outro is the highlight of a song, or just as good as the singing part. Wareham was kind of my guitar teacher in a sense, because the way he plays, it’s not super fast. It’s about the melodies and the feeling and the mood. Because his stuff wasn’t very technical, I was able to play along with his solos and lead parts pretty easily and figure out what he does and how he does it. Every now and again I still kind of think to myself, “What would Dean Wareham do on this song?” if I’m stuck trying to figure out a guitar part for a song.

Tell us about your day job as a teacher. How does it fit into your lifestyle? Any of the other teachers know that you’re a musician?

Well, I don’t have a very wild lifestyle, I can tell you that. I’ve got a 7 year old son and a 1 year old daughter. With a full-time job as a third grade teacher, I’ve got my hands full. Lots of responsibility. But I still find the time to play a handful of shows each year, and to release records regularly. I’ve kind of gotten into a pattern of working, that works for me. During the school year I write songs when inspiration hits. But then I have the summers off. That’s when I have more time to work on music. If I can get all the songs for a new record written, revised and ready to record by August, I can track drums for an album. And then the cycle of overdubbing on the recordings, while also writing new songs, can begin again. That’s really my pattern.

People I work with know I write and play music, and put out records. Sometimes they’ll come to the shows. Some of my student’s parent’s have actualy looked me up and bought my records. I leave a guitar in my class and we sing all the time. The parents know me as this gentle teacher who sings Paul Simon and Cat Stevens songs with their kids, but I could tell by the way they some of them talked to me about my music that they were a bit surprised, after hearing my music, at how thematically dark some of my stuff is. It’s not children’s music that I’m making, you know? If they’d asked me I’d have warned them.

As a teacher, I think about Robert Pollard a lot. He’s not only one of my favorite songwriters, but he made a bunch of his best records while he was working full-time as a 3rd grade teacher. It’s really not hard to balance teaching and music. The hours can be tough, though. I have to be on point at 8am when I have to face a class of 8 year olds. One of my regular working times is between 4am and 6am. It’s been less this way since we had our second kid, because I’m really tired from having a baby, a 7 year old, and a demanding job. But I made most of the previous two records, and a lot of Dreaming, between the hours of 4am and 6am. That’s when my brain works best, anyway, I don’t even set an alarm. I just wake up naturally when I’m feeling inspired to work. It’s nice. The house is quiet, and I’ve got a tried-and-true system for recording electric guitars, bass, and keyboards silently. My wife is also very supportive, and often graciously allows me weekend mornings off of childcare duty so I can get some recording work done. I’m one of those people that if I’m not recording and getting work done, I’m kind of irritable and feel unsettled. So it’s probably in her best interest to do that… (haha)

You’re the only remaining original member of the band., then? What’s that like?

Yeah. I've been the only original member of the band for over 10 years now. But it was really only for the first 2 records that the original members were a big part of the band, anyway, to be honest. And even then it was really just the first one that was the product of genuine collaboration. Back then it was me and Dan writing songs together, but by the time the first record came out we'd put together a big band that also featured Kevin Barnes from Of Montreal, Scott Spillane from Neutral Milk Hotel/Olivia Tremor Control, Bryan Poole from Elf Power, and Derek Almstead, Dottie Alexander, Heather McIntosh, and Jamey Huggins as a multi-instrumentalist and our main drummer. Jamey and I really collaborated very closely on the first record, in terms of working out the instrumentation on the songs. That was a really good, positive collaboration. And, truthfully, it hurt me when he chose to pretty much leave the band and focus on Of Montreal. But I understood his decision. They were getting really popular, and I couldn't blame him. Then, in 2002, I moved to Brooklyn and Dan followed not long after, and once we'd both left Athens that was basically the end of the original lineup. Dan and I kept writing songs together, though, with him writing the lyrics and me writing the music. We went back to Athens to record Diamond Times, and a bunch of the old crew pitched in and played on the record, but by that point I'd formed a pretty strong connection with Jeff Baron of Essex Green and Ladybug Transistor, and had convinced him to come down from Brooklyn to Athens with me for the recording sessions. He ended up playing a big role in terms of making that album what it became.

The last released songs that Dan and I co-wrote, apart from one that made it onto Ways of Escape, came out on Diamond Times in 2006. After that album came out, I put together a 3-piece lineup of the band in New York, to tour behind that album. We did a long tour of the US, opening for The Clientele. It was Kevin Shea on drums, and Kyle Forester, who I also roped into The Ladybug Transistor as a keyboardist, on bass. We did a few tours of Europe with that lineup, too. What's strange is that, though it's not the original lineup, we played more shows together as a 3-piece than any previous or later Great Lakes lineup ever played, yet the three of us never made a record. Kyle left right before we began recording the 4th record, Ways of Escape. Around then Dan and I had a disagreement over the musical direction of the band and he abruptly moved back to Athens. Him leaving really turned out to be a great thing for me. Kevin Shea was happy to keep playing drums with me, and I wrangled a bunch of great NYC-based players to help me make that record. Towards the end of that process, Suzanne Nienaber started singing with me. As soon as we started doing stuff together I thought it sounded great. That lineup ended up being the players I've continued to work with for a decade and counting. We made Wild Vision together, which, to me, really felt like a highlight in the band's discography, and then we made the new record, Dreaming Too Close to the Edge, together, too.

Looking back, I think I went out on my own at just the right time. I was feeling weird about singing somebody else's words. And it felt so much better to sing my own. Dan also just wanted more say over the music than I was willing to give him. I think a lot of artists reach a point where they get fed up with making art by committee. At a certain point, you need control to really realize your vision. I've done 6 Great Lakes records now, with the most recent 3 being made without any other original band members. And it's the 3 I've done on my own that I feel most proud of, to be honest. I'll never disavow the early stuff, and if you're a fan of unabashed 60s psych-pop then that's the Great Lakes stuff for you.

The thing about bands continuing on without original members is tricky. A lot of times those bands aren't very good without the original lineup. But I always think about The Byrds when this subject comes up. My favorite Byrds records are the ones Roger McGuinn made without Gene Clark and David Crosby. I mean, I love the Gene Clark solo stuff, and that first David Crosby solo record, too. And of course the early Byrds stuff is great. But those late Byrds records are the ones I like the most. I like to think of Great Lakes like that. Maybe some people prefer the early stuff, and that's fine. But I'm just going to keep on doing my own thing, regardless of what anybody else thinks.

Any closing comment? Final thoughts? Anything you wanted to mention that I didn’t ask?

I’m always focused on what I’m doing next. I’m working on the 7th Great Lakes record now. More and more, I find myself drawing on more of my influences from the time when I was starting to play music, lthe stuff I was into in my early 20s. Dinosaur Jr., Pavement, Sebadoh, Luna/Galaxie 500, Teenage Fanclub, Guided By Voices, Built to Spill. Not that there’s a cohesive sound there, but that combination of sounds is really where my heart is lately. I’m working on the next record now and I can feel it going in that direction. It’s not at all thematically connected to the other records. I feel like it’s going to be good.

Thanks for your interest in my music, Tim. I appreciate it.

All photos by Jami Craig except the 3rd pic from the top (the outdoor shot with the Puerto Rican flag) which is by Diego Britt.

www.greatlakesbencrum.bandcamp.com

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back-and-totheleft · 3 years

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A Journey Against a Raging Historical Backdrop

If there is anything the year 2020 has shaken into the very fabric of our imperial society, it’s that nothing ever goes according to plan, rarely is anything absolutely assured. While a biological threat has upended not only our nationalist pride as a world hegemony, it no doubt has uprooted many personal obsessions with career paths and lifestyle. That most provocative of American film directors, Oliver Stone, has now released a passionate and absorbing memoir, Chasing the Light: Writing, Directing, and Surviving Platoon, Midnight Express, Scarface, Salvador and the Movie Game, which in its own way, is fully apt for our time. More than any other work of autobiography to be released this summer, Stone’s account of going against the grain and demanding to be allowed to live off his vocation reads like a tonic.

For consumers of cinema, Stone remains a filmmaker eternally divisive. Whether it be his style, and above all, his politics, he inspires admiration and derision. He probably remains best known for his work from the ‘90s, especially the technical masterpiece JFK, which somehow collages every conspiracy theory surrounding the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, and Natural Born Killers, a visually anarchic satire crystalizing our American obsession with violence and celebrity. Agree with their theses or not, the fact that both films remain instant pop cultural reference points is a testament to their lasting value as art. I dare argue Stone’s 1995 opus Nixon, is a grossly underrated and vital drama unmatched by anything released since when it comes to cinematic political biography. This article could continue on and discuss Stone’s hallucinatory Jim Morrison biopic The Doors or his 1999 football epic Any Given Sunday, written and shot with the spirit of a Roman gladiator.

But Chasing the Light is powerful reading precisely because it is about those years before Stone reached Hollywood prominence. It is a book full of memories, self-doubt, stirring experiences and that ever so hard, grinding need to push oneself towards a stubborn goal. It helps that Stone is a natural born writer, chronicling his early years with a crisp, eloquent prose. But pulsing in nearly every space of subtext is a spirit of surviving by going against the grain. Stone even brushes aside the stale sugarcoating of other Hollywood biographies. He is blunt about sex, the personalities of others, and of course, his political opinions.

As evident in his work, Stone is obsessed with history and its lessons, the way it casts a shadow over our daily lives, whether we notice it or not. His book opens in 1976, as the U.S. celebrates it bicentennial and Stone stares out New York Harbor. Chapter one opens with a line recognizable to any dreamer without immediate resources, “I was coming up on thirty, and I was broke, but I didn’t want to think about that anymore.” The Statue of Liberty, the pomp of American Independence Day, even as the country was reeling from Vietnam, only adds to Stone’s sense of personal limbo. The narrative then shifts to a reverie going back to 1946, when Stone was born to Lou Stone and Jacqueline Goddet. Stone was himself a direct product of history. Lou was in General Eisenhower’s staff as a military man stationed in post-World War II France. Jacqueline was a French upper class girl who fell for the American G.I. fantasy. But like all dreams, the shores of reality provide a hard crash. Stone would be born into privilege, with Lou described as one of the last breed of Wall Street brokers still imbued with a slight sense of morality. He had lost it all before in the crash of 1929, but would lose more again. Sent off to boarding school, it was there that a young Stone would receive a blunt phone call informing him his parents were getting a divorce. In a swerve away from the typical image of 1950s America, Lou and Jacqueline were pretty blunt with young Oliver about their extramarital activities. On top of that, Lou was wallowing in debt.

It is this shattering of the ideal atomic family, white, affluent, basking in the delights of American capitalism, that seems to be the first real catalyst in the formation of Oliver Stone. In 1967, at the eve of turning 21, Stone is on his way to Vietnam after having enlisted. Here the rebel emerges, running from the plasticity and lies of the American privileged class, deciding on his own he wants to taste the real world. Raised in a conservative environment, Stone has little to say about the early cultural shocks of Elvis or the Beats, it simply wasn’t much a part of his world. What he does carry in him to war is a love for Homer, Greek mythology and its potent lessons. A Homeric view of combat, its bloody terror mixed with boredom, the cast of warriors in his platoon, would stay with Stone forever. This literary view sustains him as he returns to a country embroiled in radical cultural change.

If there is a romantic, almost Hemingway tone to the early sections of Chasing the Light, relatable to anyone who has ever felt like running away, even if it means to seek something greater in a tumultuous world, the second half of the book becomes one of the great recent testimonials of the struggling artist. What Stone knows from the beginning is that he is a writer. Words are his vocation. But after penning a failed, hallucinatory novel (later published in 1997 as A Child’s Night Dream), Stone realizes screenwriting is the new literary form of the age, because it is also an age of cinema. Books may never entirely go out of fashion, but the masses consume images, coupled with sound and music. This seemed to Stone, who confesses his mother would play hookie with him to see movies, like a better pathway to express the ideas and memories swirling in his intense psyche.

NYU would be where Stone would attend film school with Martin Scorsese as an instructor described as wonderfully manic and passionate. In the ‘70s a B.A. in had even less job market value than today, and Stone is soon driving cabs to survive, admitting that he wanted to avoid practical jobs as much as possible. Stone’s life reads like those classic, romantic authors of decades past, who would defy the norm, live in poverty and peck at their manuscripts. Stone eventually marries Najwa Sarkis, a Lebanese UN worker serving the Kingdom of Morocco. She provides Stone with a comfortable home as he writes scripts and treatments, and directs his first, low-budget feature, a horror film named Seizure. It fails, playing in a small grindhouse spot as a double bill in New York City. This is when Stone makes that difficult decision of again casting aside comfort, ending the marriage so he can move to Los Angeles with a script in hand based on his Vietnam experiences, Platoon. As Stone boards the plane for L.A., history both political and cultural blaze in the background. Apocalypse Now and The Deer Hunter are some of first cinematic attempts to grapple with Vietnam. Stone admires their scope, but they are obviously grandiose films made by directors who never fought in the war.

When Stone lands in the city of angels with its Hollywood promises, it is Platoon that gets him work. Through talent and stubbornness, Stone comes across as rather the lucky writer. His first major studio assignment, Midnight Express, based on a book by Billy Hayes, who was arrested and imprisoned in Turkey for smuggling hash, is for then emerging British director Alan Parker and becomes a smash hit, winning Stone his first Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay. The passages describing the cocaine-fueled ambiance of the Golden Globes before they were a live broadcast show are hilariously decadent, as well as the party atmosphere of late ‘70s Hollywood. Stone vaguely recalls writer Gore Vidal attempting to seduce Mick Jagger at one gathering.

Some of the warmer passages in the book involve Stone meeting his second wife, Elizabeth Cox, a blonde Texan who Stone describes as everything he would have ever wanted in a partner at the time. One gets the feeling of Stone constantly battling between the search for domesticity and his own impulses to go further, experiment and search as a young writer. He wants to be both loved and a libertine. He’s also a collaborative type of partner, giving Elizabeth a speaking role in his second feature, the box office bomb The Hand, which like Seizure, has not aged terribly and retains an eerie psychological force. When acting is not Elizabeth’s calling, Stone hires her as his typist.

Yet even as Stone basks in both the bacchanalia of the times and a loving relationship, developing a dangerous coke habit along the way, he writes every single day and manages to put his stamp on projects that would later be remolded by other filmmakers. Stone includes pages from his early drafts of Conan the Barbarian, which read like a Wagnerian fever dream. There’s still a sting of regret in the way he describes macho director John Milius taking the script and cutting it down to more of a B-movie romp to show off Arnold Schwarzenegger. The colder, by Stone’s observation slower, Brian De Palma would provide a better learning experience however, when Stone is hired to write the enduring cult classic Scarface. The infamously violent update of the 1932 Howard Hawks classic, starring Al Pacino as a Cuban refugee rising in the cartel world of 1980s Miami, would bring Stone into contact with underworld elements. There’s a darkly fun moment where he recounts meeting with Colombian gangsters and then unwisely dropping the name of a certain lawyer.

Through Scarface and other projects, Stone vividly remembers all the characters, some endearing and others downright venal, one encounters along the way of attempting success in this field where creativity and greed are nearly Siamese twins. What is eternally admirable about Stone is that he refuses to sell out. Even when slammed as overly violent or on the nose, preachy and despairing in his work, Stone’s voice is his own. He reserves low-grade acid in his prose for New Yorker critic Pauline Kael, who would write with a condescending, almost pathologically obsessive hatred for Stone’s scripts. And history is always in the background. The loose ‘70s would give way to the ultra-capitalist, hyper nationalist Reagan ‘80s. At one point Stone was even offered the chance to write Top Gun, still seen as a defining example of the post-Vietnam, macho American military movie meant to stir hearts to Uncle Sam’s marching call.

It would be history that would come and save Stone as well. Disappointed in the way the system seems to use writers as nothing more than hired hands, yearning to direct but having burned bridges in his wilder days, Stone puts it all on the line to make an independent war movie about the then raging civil war in El Salvador. Based on the experiences of wild man journalist Richard Boyle (who provides page after page of colorful anecdotes in the book’s latter half), Stone’s movie stars James Woods as Boyle and Elpidia Carrillo as the young Salvadoran peasant he loves. Outrageous, bloody, with a Hunter S. Thompson tone, Salvador has a making of story as intriguing as the movie. Nothing can stop the hungry director whose time has come. Stone tries to shoot in El Salvador itself amid the war, meeting with fascist military figures with Boyle. When that falls apart the production moves to Mexico as producers sweat over depleting funds. Yet Salvador opens the door for Stone to make his beloved Platoon, casting an unknown Charlie Sheen in the role based on himself. It’s quite the shift from capturing war in Central America to then reliving his memories from Vietnam, in a powerful opus featuring Willem Dafoe and Tom Berenger as well, both embodying figures Stone remembers from his days in combat.

Both Salvador and Platoon not only close the book victoriously, as one becomes a sleeper hit and the other a box office sensation that would win Best Picture and Director Oscars for Stone, they also crystalize the historical obsession that defines his journey. Like few, if any, movies made about Latin America since, Salvador is about a war in which the United States intervened to prevent revolutionary forces from overcoming a local regime and aristocracy firmly beholden to U.S. interests, and Platoon is about Stone having been a young man holding the rifle used by American power to impose its order on the world. He has been an agent of history, which is why it haunts his mind even now with his recent documentaries, the most controversial being a sit-down with Vladimir Putin.

Chasing the Light is like a tonic in these times when the world becomes increasingly unsettled, as if hurtling towards major conflagrations but our movies are now devoid of radical politics or even political passion, with a few exceptions. Great directors who begin with promise then get lured by the bigger system, and they end up contributing to the “Marvel Cinematic Universe.” Agree with him or not, Stone at least celebrates two things in this book we can all agree on: The hard work wanting to write demands, both in commitment and honing of the craft, and the need to engage with the wider world. Film obsessives and Stone’s fans will no doubt eagerly await the next volume, I know I will, when he will surely explore his defining political films. For now, Chasing the Light is a volume to give comfort to wandering talent out there, writing deep into the night, wondering if anyone will ever read it or care.

-Alci Rengifo, “Oliver Stone’s Chasing the Light Chronicles the Great Director’s Journey Against a Raging Historical Backdrop,” Riot Material, Sept 3 2020 [x]

#oliver stone #chasing the light #books #reviews #riot material

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warholiana · 4 years

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Lovely review of my Warhol bio in the Los Angeles Times, including the following:

"Warhol lived one of the great lives of the 20th century, and he now has a biography worthy of that life. For ‘Warhol,’ Blake Gopnik interviewed hundreds of eyewitnesses and scrutinized every paper trail, down to the artist’s ticket stub for ‘Cats.’ Even at 976 pages, the book rarely leaves you wanting less. It turns out this life, so often discussed in grandiose or mythic terms, is quite intricate, even beautiful, in extreme close-up.”

https://www.latimes.com/…/review-blake-gopnik-andy-warhol-b…

Here’s the review in full:

Review: Was Andy Warhol a saint or scourge, genius or dolt? A new biography befits a great life

By STEPHEN METCALF

APRIL 22, 2020 | 7 AM

Andy Warhol, circa 1960, had a problem. Thanks to his success as a commercial artist, he had built up an extravagant lifestyle. He owned an angel-blue Upper East Side townhouse and the tastes to match, but he was no longer winning the big contracts.

Imagine a semi-closeted gay man in New York City logging hours for The Man during the day while working quietly, steadily, at night, trying to create the next vanguard of American painting. You’re actually imagining Jasper Johns or Robert Rauschenberg. Warhol wanted to be that person, desperately, but

in his off hours he’d been making negligible drawings.

Art, circa 1960, also had a problem. How do you move painting away from abstraction while also moving it forward? Pop artists — Johns, Lichtenstein, Rosenquist — solved this problem by becoming landscape painters. The American landscape, however, was no longer made up of trees and cows lowing plangently at dusk. It was Dick Tracy, roadside billboards and packaged goods.

With his Campbell’s Soup can paintings, exhibited in Los Angeles in 1962, Warhol was not pioneering anything new. He was merely upping the ante. More than Johns or Lichtenstein, Warhol concealed his own expressive capacity, burying it so deep that any evidence of the sensibility of the artist all but disappeared. You can look at a soup can and wonder at how familiarity, intimacy, warmth, even feelings of love might attach to an inert object, just as you can look at a painting of Marilyn, Liz or Elvis and wonder at how cold, inert, even alien the human form had become. One can say all kinds of things about the work but its power lies, finally, in its horrible silence. And what lies behind that?

Was this man a scourge, capitalism’s most joyous co-conspirator? A satyr, a saint, a sage? Was he a conniving strategist? Or a dim bulb?

Warhol lived one of the great lives of the 20th century, and he now has a biography worthy of that life. For “Warhol,” Blake Gopnik interviewed hundreds of eyewitnesses and scrutinized every paper trail, down to the artist’s ticket stub for “Cats.” Even at 976 pages, the book rarely leaves you wanting less. It turns out this life, so often discussed in grandiose or mythic terms, is quite intricate, even beautiful, in extreme close-up.

There is Julia Warhola, Andy’s mother, crafting peach tins into the shape of flowers and selling them door to door; actor Dennis Hopper, among the first to “get” Warhol, jumping up and down upon seeing his first soup can; Andy himself, older, mellowed, in a Santa beard, ringing the bell for the Salvation Army. (He lasted 45 minutes.) In this textured portrait of an artist of annihilating smoothness, Gopnik has finely rendered many of Warhol’s milieus. Perhaps most endearing is the intricate social geography of gay New York in the 1940s and ’50s.

The Warhol of this period has been romanticized as the quintessential urban loner. In fact, Gopnik makes clear, he was a gregarious, well-liked man, surrounded by a fairly ordinary roster of friends and lovers. He was excluded, however, from the art world, which must have cut him deeply. Warhol graduated from the Carnegie Institute expecting to be a fine as well as a commercial artist, but even after he’d abandoned his homoerotic drawings, the major New York gallerists continued to shun him. Leo Castelli found Warhol the person too weird for his tastes, and worried his comic strip imagery was too close to Lichtenstein, whom he already represented.

So Warhol did the unthinkable. He debuted the soup cans in L.A. The show earned his first round of press coverage. Castelli did eventually sign Warhol, but almost none of his best work showed under the dealer’s auspices. The biggest revelation in “Warhol” is how minor a role the art establishment played in forming his reputation. As late as the early ’80s, Warhol could still bemoan how his prices lagged those of Johns and Rauschenberg, and how MOMA had acquired only one of his paintings. (“The little Marilyn. I hate that.”) So — how did he do it?

The quick and very Warholian answer is that he used the power of celebrity. A slower, more careful one is that Warhol shrewdly pitted the Scene against the Institution. And by 1962, modern art was an Institution. In America this meant MOMA, the Jewish Museum, the Met, Castelli. The Scene, meanwhile, was the Factory. The Factory was not just a space where Warhol made art and freeloaders cavorted. It became one of the super-symbolic youthquake It Places of the 1960s.

The Factory was a porous, chaotic arena for scene-making, drawing in exhibitionists, druggies, socialites, rock stars, movie stars, Ivy Leaguers and, most critically, journalists. By the mid-’60s, Time magazine, et al., were hypnotized by this beguiling apostle of desublimation, the Pan figure holding the keys to a secret kingdom called “the underground.”

As his art was being turned into a succès de scandale by the gullible press, Warhol began cultivating a public image, one that had little to do with the manner and style of “Raggedy Andy,” the whimsical oddball he’d been since his student days. This new Warhol was leather-clad and hard and, in his way, as horribly silent as the canvases. When he wasn’t merely blank, he was a master of the evasive put-on, the non-answer, the deadpan stammer. (Or simple lie.) He was withdrawing from his manner exactly what was missing in his paintings: affect.

Affect lies in the cadence of our speech, the arrangement of our features, the quality of our laughter. The absence in Warhol is startling; it’s what gives everything he did and touched its radical aura. With his new personal style, Warhol was breaking down any distinction between affect and affectation. The sphinx act drove onlookers wild, until they asked of Warhol the same question they’d asked of the Factory: What is going on inside there?

Warhol exiled people when they bored him; he weaponized his lack of affect as beautifully and efficiently in his relations as he had in his art. He became a genius at making the elect feel caught up in a daring enterprise while provoking in others the special torment he himself knew so well — the feeling of being left out.

Warhol was attached to spaces whose fascination lay in their powers of exclusion: the back room of Max’s Kansas City; Studio 54; the Limelight. Maybe it’s just blunt-force human nature, that the more something excludes you, the more you want in. This is Groucho Marx, inverted and intensified, and the formula applies not only to the Factory but to its buttoned-up sequel. When Warhol pivoted, on a dime, away from the madness, and moved his headquarters to Union Square, he dropped the Factory name and instituted a dress code but nonetheless kept a spatial arrangement designed to highlight degrees of insiderism.

The target wasn’t the press anymore but high-paying clients for his new line of business, society portraiture. Warhol was not the first serious artist to care about money, but he was the first to make a shameless love of it central to his vocation. By rendering up his underground cred to the principles of entrepreneurship, he was not only prophesying the future; he was modeling behavior. The new “studio” was a small, nimble, eat-what-you-kill workplace, organized around the highly branded talents of a single visionary individual.

Was the change so shocking? The single consistent thing about Warhol, from 1960 until the day he died, was his utter refusal to conceive of human beings in the usual way — which is to say as interior, subjective, reflective, self-fashioning, suffering and ethical creatures. This refusal often felt like a lark but, from the evidence gathered by Gopnik, his shallowness lay deeper than that; it went all the way down. Into the era of the yuppie, the fundamental Warholian project was kept intact: to maximize creative autonomy while minimizing human subjectivity, until the former can be said to describe anything you do and the latter all but disappears.

In “Portrait of Andy Warhol,” a painting by Julian Schnabel, Warhol stands against a black-velvet void, naked and exposed but for a pink girdle, which is pulled excruciatingly tight. He looks like an El Greco saint, with hints of a Francis Bacon messiah. The girdle was a medical necessity, thanks to Valerie Solanas’ botched assassination attempt in 1968. In spite of what you made of yourself, I see you as you are, the canvas seems to say, by way of reconnecting Warhol to a tradition of expressivity and suffering — to art history, as it existed before Warhol did his level best to obliterate it.

Warhol won that one, didn’t he? Gopnik promotes a Great Man theory of the case: Warhol was an epochal genius who deserves his place on the “top peak of Parnassus, beside Michelangelo and Rembrandt.” In effect, Gopnik has written two books. The first is an exhaustively researched and definitive account of the life. The second is a series of apologies and excuses for a tax cheat, voyeur-sadist, bad son, skinflint, publicity hound, social climber, shopaholic. Some small-bore skepticism along the way might have helped make the canonical judgment more credible.

We inherit Warhol, circa 2020, not just as an artist but as a climate of feeling — a climate that can easily be confused with reality itself. Paradigms never shift back, precisely, but they do shift again, and fickly. As we come to see Warholism as part of a second Gilded Age, one the pandemic may finally kill off, his reputation will change, and in unexpected ways. Maybe, in the most Warholian gesture of all, the work contains within it the seeds of its own destruction. Rendering Warholism unfashionable, by its own logic, is the same thing as killing it. At that point the artist, once an unrivaled colossus, would fade into an absolute silence, which was, after all, his real medium all along.

Metcalf is the cohost of Slate’s “Culture Gabfest” podcast and is writing a book about the 1980s.

#art #Andy Warhol

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sometimesalwaysmusic · 6 years

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ANIMAL CONFESSION

For this week’s interview, we caught up with Animal Confession frontman and guitarist Andrew Gharib (AG). We discussed the band’s influences, his topics of interest when writing lyrics, and the band’s plans to release a new record in Spring 2018. Read on and check out their music while you’re at it!

VITALS

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/animalconfession/

Web: https://www.animalconfession.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/animconfession

Upcoming Release: Age of Today (LP, Spring 2018)

Upcoming shows: Spring 2018 - Details to come. Live On Elgin, Ottawa, ON.

SA: How did Animal Confession first start as a band? AG: I had been writing songs by myself for a few years in between bands. I decided to take it a bit further and so I called a couple of friends of mine who helped me make some demos. When I realized there was something good happening, I started reaching out to find permanent members. Eventually I met Pat and Trevor and 6 years later we're still here.

SA: Who would you cite as primary influences on your sound? AG: We all love rock and metal. Some bands that have influenced us significantly are Tool, Pink Floyd, and Muse. I also grew up playing classical music so that influenced my vocal style pretty significantly.

SA: Thus far in your career, what has been your biggest success? AG: Getting this record done is a huge accomplishment for us. It took 2 years to write and a year to produce. Playing the Glowfair festival this year was also big for us. It was our biggest stage to date and got our feet wet in the festival circuit. They treated us so well and it was very professionally organized.

SA: What has been the biggest challenge you have faced, and how have you dealt with it? AG: We all have jobs and families so writing and making records becomes very tricky. Juggling rehearsals, studio time, and everything that comes with that is an art in itself. The way we dealt with it was just to keep going. We knew it was going to happen, and after hundreds of hours, it finally did.

SA: How do you guys approach the song-writing process? AG: This record was very collaborative. One of us would come in with a riff and the others would just write around that and it would expand from there. Typically starts with guitar but not always. Sometimes you hear a great beat in your head and you try to flesh that out. I usually have a melody in mind right away but it takes getting the song musically finished to really flesh out vocal ideas. By the time the song is written, we each had our individual stamp on it.

SA: What are your thoughts on the Ottawa music scene? AG: So underrated. There is a glut of awesome bands in Ottawa in multiple genres of music. Rock, Metal, Pop, Jazz, Blues, all of it. Every now and then we'll go check out a local band and we're almost always blown away.

SA: If you could have a meal with any three musicians, dead or alive, who would they be, and why? AG: Haha, just a meal, no jamming? Hmm....Bono would have some grandiose stories that I'd love to hear. Elvis was a pioneer, and Jimmy Page is a huge influence. I think sitting down with big personalities like that over a meal would give some great insight!

SA: If you could work with any producer in the world, who would you choose and why? AG: So many great producers are out there but the best producer is the one who gets your music and really believes in it. They are an extra member of the band, and they make what you're doing better. The hard part is finding that person!

SA: Your song topics have covered diverse issues such as surveillance, division and consumerism. If you have to pick one particular song on the upcoming new record that really resonates with you in terms of it's message, which would it be and why? AG: The song 'Everyone Is watching' really just summarizes how I'm feeling right now...our privacy as citizens is limited and will one day be non-existent. The internet tracks everything you do, your behaviours, your actions, your words, and can figure out your next move before you do, and they're captured forever. I also just read that now Amazon is launching a pilot program where delivery people actually gain access to your house to drop off your orders. Where do you draw the line?

SA: Lastly, what are the plans for Animal Confession moving into 2018? All the best this coming year! AG: We'll be releasing our new record in April and starting to play around town and we have some out of town dates that we're working on as well. We can't wait to hit the road with this record!

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rileysagerbooks · 7 years

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A Las Vegas Tone Poem

I wrote this essay years ago for a blog collective I was part of. In light of what happened in Las Vegas last night, I thought it appropriate to post it here so that people may see the light of the place in the middle of its darkest hour.

Someday, I suspect, I’ll write a story about Las Vegas, adding my meager words to the millions that have already been spent trying to describe the place. Today, however, is not that day. I just returned from there late last night, I’m bowled over with jet lag and if I close my eyes, I can still see slot machine reels spinning on the backs of my eyelids. Writing coherently about Vegas requires time and distance — two things I don’t have at the moment.

Instead, I’m going to write incoherently about this strange world that I love so much. Instead of transitioning from one thought to another, like a proper blog post, I’m going to offer random observations. I’m calling it a tone poem, although in reality it’s a tired author’s way of fulfilling his blogging duties while showing off his cell phone photos. Either way, I hope you enjoy.

***

For those who have never been, I like to describe Las Vegas as spending a few days on another planet that’s similar to our own. The people look mostly the same, but everything else is bigger, brighter, louder. It’s a place where the Eiffel Tower looms over one side of The Strip while a fountain-spewing lake sits on the other. Both of those things, by the way, do not belong in the Nevada desert.

And that’s the glory of Las Vegas. In a sane world, nothing should be there but dirt and tumbleweeds and a few cattle ranches. Instead, we get glass pyramids and gleaming towers and exotic gardens sprouting up in the middle of casinos. It’s a mirage and a reality all at once.

I first went to Vegas in 2006, tagging along with my future husband for a conference he had scheduled there. I was reluctant to go. I had assumed it would be tacky, crass and crowded with cheap souvenirs and Elvis impersonators. It is. Unapologetically so. Yet I was surprised to discover that it’s also elegant, contemplative, even serene.

And fake.

Every last bit of it.

Which just might make it the most authentically American place in the world. Las Vegas was built from nothing, willed into existence by corrupt men with grandiose plans for one purpose — to make money. It’s capitalism writ large in neon letters.

But the people there? They’re the real deal. Vegas is populated by people of every race, creed, color and religion. Some are there for the weekend. Some are there for life. They work hard, dream big, lose big, try again. Friendliness abounds. You see it in the hotel clerks and housekeepers, the cocktail waitresses and blackjack dealers, the diners seated next to you in the fancy restaurant and the fellow gamblers cheering someone’s winning hand.

No one judges in Vegas. It’s not their style.

There’s one section of The Strip that’s almost like a gallery of Las Vegas history. There’s the Flamingo, the casino that in the 1940s helped turn Vegas into the “glamorous” metropolis it is today. The sixties are represented right pretty much across the street, where Caesar’s Palace still holds court. Just south of the Flamingo is Paris Las Vegas, which exemplifies the whole Epcot-as-casino motif so popular in the 1990s. Directly across from Paris is the Bellagio, which brought elegance to The Strip in the form of its dancing fountains, lavish interiors and art galleries. Slightly south of Bellagio is the latest incarnation of Las Vegas resort — City Center. All sleek steel and glass, it’s a strange hybrid of a casino, a luxury shopping mall, non-gambling hotels and even condo space. That’s seventy years of history, all within a few blocks.

Another interesting history lesson can be found north of The Strip, at The Neon Museum. It’s basically a boneyard where signs of Vegas’ past are brought to die. Some of the city’s most famous signs are now there, including the record-setting Stardust sign and a piece of the city’s most recently deceased casino, the Sahara.

Las Vegas is known as Sin City, which is true in its own self-branding way. Any sin you can think of is there for the taking. Greed? The whole damn place exists because of greed. Gluttony? Just belly up to the buffet, boys. Sloth? Envy? Lust? Yes, yes and, boy howdy, yes.

Perhaps I’m naive, but I like to think there’s another reason people come to Vegas — hope. They arrive hoping to get rich, to get lucky (literally and figuratively), to momentarily escape their lives of quiet desperation. Stand in the center of any given casino and you’ll see hardened gamblers, blue-haired ladies, businessmen dragged there for a conference, tourists struck dumb by the hugeness of it all, drinkers, smokers, frat boys and housewives. All of them, at some point in their trip, will sit down at a blackjack table.

Or a roulette wheel.

Or a slot machine.

Each one of them will pay their dollars and place their bets. And while the roulette wheel turns and the cards are being flipped and the slot reels spin, each and every one of them will think, “I hope …”

#las vegas

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johnnymundano · 5 years

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The Theatre Bizarre (2011)

Directed by Douglas Buck, Buddy Giovinazzo, David Gregory, Karim Hussain, Jeremy Kasten, Tom Savini and Richard Stanley

Written by Scarlett Amaris, Douglas Buck, John Esposito, Buddy Giovinazzo, David Gregory, Karim Hussain, Emiliano Ranzani and Richard Stanley

Music by Simon Boswell, Susan DiBona and Marquis Howell of Hobo Jazz

Country: United States

Language: English

Running Time: 114 minutes

CAST

Udo Kier as Peg Poett

Virginia Newcomb as Enola Penny

Kaniehtiio Horn as The Writer (segment 'Vision Stains')

Victoria Maurette as Karina (segment 'The Mother Of Toads')

Shane Woodward as Martin (segment 'The Mother Of Toads')

André Hennicke as Axel (segment 'I Love You')

Suzan Anbeh as Mo (segment 'I Love You')

James Gill as Donnie (segment 'Wet Dreams')

Tom Savini as Dr. Maurey (segment 'Wet Dreams')

Debbie Rochon as Carla (segment 'Wet Dreams')

Lena Kleine as The Mother (segment 'The Accident')

Mélodie Simard as The Daughter (segment 'The Accident')

Lindsay Goranson as Estelle (segment 'Sweets')

Guilford Adams as Greg (segment 'Sweets')

Framing Segments

Directed by Jeremy Kasten

Written by Zach Chassler

Cast:

Udo Kier as Peg Poett

Virginia Newcomb as Enola Penny

The Theatre Bizarre is a series of six shorts largely in hock to the grand-guignol tradition of naturalistic horror (i.e. proper ketchup, matey). I know this not because of any keen interest in French theatre but because the framing sequence is called ‘Theatre Guignol’, and it is into this terribly mysterious theatre that Enola Penny (Virginia Newcomb) dreamily wanders one decisive night. Each of the following sections is introduced by the indefatigable Udo Kier playing a big puppet (literally “grand guignol”) who becomes less puppet-like as the movie wears on and (cue wobbly theremin) Enola become less human. Which might be an artistic statement about desensitisation, but is definitely an excuse to watch Udo Kier popping robot-moves, which I think we can all agree is a good thing.

The Mother of Toads

Directed by Richard Stanley

Written by Richard Stanley, Scarlett Amaris and Emiliano Ranzani

Cast:

Catriona MacColl as Mere Antoinette

Shane Woodward as Martin

Victoria Maurette as Karina

Lisa Belle as The Naked Witch (as Lisa Crawford)

Amelie Salomon as The Monster

The Mother of Toads is apparently based on a Clark Ashton Smith story of the same name which I haven’t read, with a bit of HP Lovecraft chucked in. It features a pair of unpleasant young Americans holidaying in France, and I’m not dissing Americans there, this pair really are unlikable; Karina moans that everything is in French in France (quelle surprise!), while Martin is so anaesthetised by his own acumen he can barely push his smug words past the thicket of his trendy beard. They come unstuck when bargain hunting in a French market where a handsome older lady with a mesmerising accent saucily offers Martin a peek at her Necronomicon. Bundling Karina off to a spa Martin spends the day with the accommodating and increasingly ardent crone, drinking suspicious brews and fingering her dusty leaves. Things end badly. This was an agreeably silly creature feature with plenty of the old ugh! quotient, an endearing lack of logic and a pervading sense of encroaching doom. The humour leavening proceedings is clearly no accident; there’s an excellent joke when Martin attempts to extricate himself from a post-coital bed without waking his sleeping and somewhat slimy partner. Probably rings a few bells in the audience that bit. It’s just enjoyably daft, tongue-in-cheek stuff and a welcome reminder that Richard (Hardware (1990), Dust Devil (1992)) Stanley is still rocking his smart-trash groove.

I Love You

Directed by Buddy Giovinazzo

Written by Buddy Giovinazzo

Cast:

André Hennicke as Axel

Suzan Anbeh as Mo

I Love You is a pretty tough watch and unusually it’s not because of the climactic gore. Axel wakes up in his bathroom disorientated and bloody; turns out he’s an insecure, self-destructive mess who has driven his lady Mo away. Mo returns to sever all ties and leave for good. What follows is an emotionally harrowing battle between two damaged people where words are weapons and the hurt is internal. As blood spattered as the despairing denouement may be the real horror is the extended verbal flensing Mo delivers to Martin, in which she destroys not only his present but also his past. And is she telling the truth? Or is it a desperate attempt to extricate herself from his unquenchable neediness? Like a fox gnawing its paw off to escape the trap? Sometimes uncertainty can be another level of horror. Buddy Giovinazzo delivers a classily acted, tautly suspenseful two-hander which leaves an emotional stain which persists for days.

Wet Dreams

Directed by Tom Savini

Written by John Esposito

Cast:

Debbie Rochon as Carla

Tom Savini as Dr. Maurey

James Gill as Donnie

Jodii Christianson as Maxine

Wet Dreams is directed by Tom Savini, who is legendary in horror for his SFX work and slightly less legendary for his acting, so there’s no excuse for doing an Elvis double take at the fact he’s given himself a role and that his segment is luridly gory. He’s no slouch at directing either, which is nice. The esteemed Mr. Savini plays a psychiatrist, the kind who drinks on the job and talks about raping his mum (i.e. a movie psychiatrist), treating Donnie, a preening jackass who likes smacking his wife, Carla, about and cheating on her. See, Donnie’s having recurring nightmares wherein his sexy dream fun times climax with him being tortured and castrated by his long-suffering wife, in a series of gruesomely humorous and visually explicit ways. Gentlemen viewers may never again think of a fry-up without skittishly crossing their legs. Serves Donnie right you might think, but by the end of the dream-within-a-dream misdirection and its gruesomely pre-code EC Comics twist finale you might think again. Ugh. I mean….ugh. I...Jesus. What could have just been a gratuitous mess of general dismemberment is deftly directed by the savant Savini, resulting in an amoral immorality tale. And need it be said that his skills in the SFX dept remain second to none? No, it need not. So pretend I didn’t say it.

The Accident

Directed by Douglas Buck

Written by Douglas Buck

Cast:

Lena Kleine as Mother

Mélodie Simard as Daughter

Jean-Paul Rivière as Old Biker

Bruno Décary as Young Biker

The Accident provides a brief respite from the onslaught of sensationalistic gore, a pit stop if you will. Even if you won’t, it definitely centres around a cute child asking her blasé mother questions about mortality, said questions raised in the tiny, inquiring mind after the witnessing of an accident earlier in the day involving a deer and a cocky motorcyclist. It’s a very restrained piece, very accomplished, and softer in tone than anything before or after it. There’s a touch of grue when the deer is finished off, but mostly the horror here is the complete horseshit parents come out with to calm their offspring with regards to the ultimately absurd nature of life and death, a subject which everyone spends a lot of time avoiding thinking about on a day to day basis and about which they would rather not be cross-examined about by a child at bedtime. As upsetting as the sight of the deer’s tongue lolling out of its bug eyed head was (very), it wasn’t as upsetting as realising all the lies you have to fill your kid with just so they can function in what we’ve all decided to call reality. Compared to all that, lying about Santa Claus is a minor misdemeanour.

Vision Stains

Directed by Karim Hussain

Written by Karim Hussain

Cast:

Kaniehtiio Horn as The Writer

Cynthia Wu-Maheux as Junkie Girl

Imogen Haworth as Pregnant Woman

Rachelle Glait as Older Homeless Woman

Alex Ivanovici as Junkie Man

I have a thing about eye trauma. Not a sexual thing, a “flinch and wave your hands about like you’re warding off invisible birds” thing. It’s a running joke in the Mundano family unit; if there’s some serious eye trauma afoot in the viewing choice, all eyes fall on the father figure as he tenses for impact. Those similarly (dis)inclined should be warned that there is a seriously impressive amount of eye trauma in Vision Stains. It’s built in as the whole episode rests on the Horror Movie Science concept of people’s past lives flashing before their eyes at the point of death. So if you extract their eye juice as they die and inject it into your own eye you will get to live the edited highlights of another life. Obviously. That sounds about as appealing as it sounds scientifically feasible, but our serial killer heroine is well into it. She basically harvests the lives of the homeless to make up for her personal shortfall in dreams. Judging by the massive pile of notebooks in which she has written the details of all the lives she has nicked, its worked out quite well for her. But people, even dreamless serial killers who prey on the homeless, are never satisfied, so she decides to take the next step and find out what happens before people have a life to flash in front of their eyes. The results are mixed. Ultimately you can’t help thinking it would have been a lot quicker and far easier on the homeless population if she’d just read Tbomas Ligotti’s The Conspiracy Against the Human race. It’s all very silly but the po-faced approach suggests it is straining for some grandiose meaning; it fails. But it does feature a fantastic amount of eye trauma. Each to their own.

Sweets

Directed by David Gregory

Written by David Gregory

Cast:

Lindsay Goranson as Estelle

Guilford Adams as Greg

Lynn Lowry as Mikela Da Vinci

Jessica Remmers as Antonia

With Sweets, things close on a hilariously disgusting note. A deadpan Estelle and a semi-hysterical Greg talk about their dying relationship in the most banal clichés imaginable as they sit in what was once an apartment, but is now a kind of edible sty plastered with smushed up confectionery. As trite nonsense falls from her lips Estelle slowly sucks a melting ice cream into her deadpan face. Greg flailing to rescue the dead relationship counters with the expected whiny responses, while spasmodically picking filthy sweets off the floor and ingesting them with all the automotive panache of the true addict. Their stale interactions are punctuated by a series of flashbacks which parody cinema’s rote scenes of romance, with the pair swilling sweet shit like swilling sweet shit is going out of fashion. Luckily for Greg, Estelle hasn’t quite finished with him, unluckily for Greg he’s about to find out what that means. Sweets is pretty funny in its lip-smacking attack on love and addiction (and love as addiction), and is delightfully cartoonish in style; Estelle is often colour coordinated from hair to shoes with whatever sickly delicacy she is proffering. Of course all the comedy and caricature serve only to distract you while Sweets prepares a delightful gut punch of horror, before the management politely ask you to leave.

TL;DR: The Theatre Bizarre: it’s worth a watch, but not if you’re squeamish.

#The Theatre Bizarre #Movies #Horror #Anthology #2011 #The 2010s #Douglas Buck #Buddy Giovinazzo #David Gregory #Karim Hussain #Jeremy Kasten #Tom Savini #Richard Stanley #Udo Kier #Catriona Maccol #United States

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