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#can you tell I’m finally educating myself on how to actually draw after thousands of years looooool
fah-keet · 4 months
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Okinawa.
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luxekook · 4 years
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bangtan host club ❯ part i
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❯ pairing: ot7 x reader
❯ genre: ouran au, college au, crack, smut
❯ summary: when you had decided to take summer lessons at your college, you hadn’t factored in the impending presence of seven insufferably attractive and arrogant boys… the bangtan host club. 
❯ word count: 2.1k
❯ warnings: 18+, cursing, suggestive language, terrible pet names, excessive dramatics
❯ banner by: maggie @kimtaehyunq​
a/n: while this fic is loosely based off of the anime version of ouran highschool host club, it is set in university - meaning that all of the boys are of age (at least 21 years old)
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host club members
❯ Kim Namjoon as “Kyoya Ootori” ❯ Kim Seokjin as “Tamaki Suoh” ❯ Min Yoongi as “Takashi ‘Mori’ Morinozuka” ❯ Jung Hoseok as “Mitsukuni ‘Honey’ Haninozuka” ❯ Park Jimin as “Hikaru Hitachiin” ❯ Kim Taehyung as “Kaoru Hitachiin” ❯ Jung Jungkook as “Haruhi Fujioka”
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Taking summer classes had never been on my agenda, my studies having been mapped out in detail since the day I arrived on campus three years ago. And then the university’s president suddenly has this utterly groundbreaking epiphany and adjusts the curriculum to “ensure that all students will leave Bangtan University well-rounded”. 
Screw that. My ass is already well-rounded enough, thank you very much.
But despite my best efforts (i.e. begging President Kim to make an exception followed by crafting a petition that gained over ten thousand signatures), I have found that there is no avoiding the dastardly new physical education requirement. And since my schedule for my upcoming senior year has been planned and set for literal years, I’ve been forced to enroll in the sole summer physical education class offered at Bangtan University - Introduction to Weight Lifting.
I wish I was kidding.
To say that I am dreading the start of class tomorrow would be an extreme understatement. I’ll be lucky to escape this summer without physical injury or the loss of my dignity. Athletics have never been my strong suit, and I’ve only entered our campus gym to go to the smoothie bar.
Groaning at just the mere thought of working out and being graded for it, I trek down the streets of outer campus towards the library, swearing under my breath and sweating profusely.
It’s a blazing hot, blue-skied Sunday in July. Typically, I would be lying on a beach somewhere with a drink in my hand, soaking in the warmth of the sun with joy. But instead, here I am, sweltering and desperate for air conditioning after my ancient window unit wheezed its final breath last night. The comfortable chill of the library is my only hope aside from my landlord who promised to fix my air conditioning by tomorrow.
My frustration builds as I turn onto the block lined with imposing and picturesque estates in which the upper echelon of Bangtan University resides. I’d bet the very last ice-pack in my freezer that these houses have unfailing central air.
I pick up my pace, worn Doc Marten platform sandals slapping against the hot pavement. The pristine mansions seem to mock my distress as they exude the coolness of unbothered wealth. Despite there being no Greek life here at Bangtan University, the lack of letters emblazoned on the numerous estates I pass does not symbolize a lack of status. 
This block is home to the athletic teams who throw massive parties whenever they happen to be in the off-season. It’s also home to the legacy clubs - the exclusive groups of current students who are relatives of past alumni.
And last but not least, this block is home to the infamous Bangtan Host Club, a small group of idle rich boys with exceptionally good looks and a penchant for entertaining. 
The aforementioned group’s house comes into view as I draw nearer to campus. The host club’s mansion sits on the corner lot right across the street from campus. Typically, students are wary of such proximity - but not those boys. No, they’re un-phased, throwing massive parties every weekend without fail and without repercussion.
During my first semester, I had been confused as to why their parties had never been shut down; but now I know better. The host club’s president Kim Seokjin is the son of none other than the fucking president of the university - the very same man who damned me to my weight lifting fate.
In fact, almost the entire host club is related to someone with influence - either at the university or within the surrounding community. The only exception to the wealth factor is Jeon Jungkook, who attends Bangtan University on a scholarship not unlike myself.
About 99% of the university are host club stans. As for me? I don’t subscribe to that bullshit. And I do mean literally ‘subscribe’. They have newsletters, merch and everything. I would say I don’t understand it at all, but a small part of me does.
They’re fucking gorgeous. Like I’m talking Tom Ford at New York Fashion Week gorgeous. Armani catalogue centerfold gorgeous. Goddamn Sports Illustrated Men’s Swimsuit Edition gorgeous. 
In fact, I’m pretty sure Kim Seokjin actually does model in his spare time. With his long limbs, broad shoulders and pillowy lips, Seokjin certainly has the features for it. My freshman year roommate bought so many posters of Seokjin from the host club’s merch website I think I could identify him from a hundred yards away in the dark. 
“Hey!” The bellow emanates from the porch of the host club’s house and jolts me from my memories, “Hey, princess!”
I let out a snort. Whoever that pet name is directed at needs to shut that down immediately. I mean, ‘princess’? In this economy? Please. I need off this block ASAP.
“Hello? I’m talking to you, angel!” 
The voice sounds closer now, and my eyes squeeze shut. Oh god, this person cannot be talking to me, can they?
Princess? Angel?
The sheer absurdity pushes me onward, and I do not spare a single glance in the direction where the inane greetings originated. Alas, I barely make it two feet before a tall figure screeches to a halt in front of me, panting like he had just run a marathon. 
I blink as I take in the very boy who just crossed my mind a minute earlier. Kim Seokjin looms over me, chest heaving and smile gleaming.
“Cupcake, hello!” his smile grows wider, “Why didn’t you answer me? I was talking to you.”
My brain is trying to wrap itself around the unfathomable phenomenon I’m currently witnessing. The host club president is beaming down at me like I’m the last custom Rolex ever made. His white t-shirt that probably costs more than my rent stretches across his shoulders in a way that has to be illegal. 
A bead of sweat drips down my back between my shoulder blades. I don’t have time for this attractive detour; I only have time for a long sip of iced water and a seat under an air conditioning vent somewhere deep within the recesses of the quiet library.
“Were you?” I shrug, looking over his illegally broad shoulder and plotting my escape, “I didn’t realize, considering my name isn’t princess, angel or cupcake.”
I inwardly cringe at my tone. I have a tendency to be irritable when the weather is hot, and it seems like today is no exception.
Seokjin stares down at me, his cocky expression wavering for a split second before snapping back into place. “Well, tell me your name then, sunshine, so that I may cordially invite you to the host club’s latest summer extravaganza!” His dark brown eyes sparkle as he remains seemingly impervious to my building ire, beaming down at me.
“No, thank you,” I shake my head decisively and attempt to sidestep around him. 
None of my friends are on campus for the summer, and there is no way I'm going alone to a party full of strangers. That just screams bad decisions, just like the time I willingly ate the dining hall’s “Mystery Meat Special” during my second semester.
Seokjin cuts off my path yet again, and my scowl intensifies as I glare up at him, “Could you move, please?”
Seokjin gapes back at me, “D-don’t you want to come to our party?” I stare at him with eyebrows raised. He continues at a higher decibel, “Don’t you know who I am?”
The nerve of this boy. My eyes scrunch shut as I send a quick plea to anyone out there in the universe to send me patience and then internally count backwards from ten. 
“Yes, I know who you are, Kim,” I finally say, completely exasperated, “And no, I still don’t want to go to your party.”
Seokjin is gobsmacked, looking like he’s seen a ghost as he stands before me open-mouthed. For a second, I allow myself to indulge one more time in his attractiveness, my eyes wandering along his toned torso, his muscular arms, his high cheekbones, his messy brown hair. 
And then he bounces back, snapping his fingers, “Aha! I know what this is. You’re playing hard to get! Okay, I can play along with you, sunshine.”
It’s my turn to gape at him this time, watching as he mumbles to himself about how I must want him to beg for me and how he would just love to do so. I’m about to put a stop to this madness when he spreads his arms wide and announces loud enough for the entire block to hear, “Sunshine, please, attend our party! My heart longs for your presence, and I will only be happy if I can have your arm in mine next Friday night...”
I’m honestly beginning to worry about the boy in front of me. Is he completely unhinged? Am I being Punk’d right now? 
Seokjin prattles on, “So, my sun, my moon, my stars, will you please do me the honor of joining me for a night of fun courtesy of the host club? No guest has yet to be disappointed and—!”
I finally just reach up and cover his mouth with my palm, steadfastly ignoring how plush his lips feel against my skin. “Kim Seokjin!” I hiss, “I promise I am not playing hard to get. I simply do not want to go to your party. Now, please, for the love of god, let me walk by you in peace.”
Loud bursts of laughter sound immediately after I finish speaking, and I whip around to locate the source. Two boys jog over to where Seokjin and I are standing on the pavement. Their laughter doesn’t subside with their approach. If anything, it grows louder.
“Oh, come on, pres,” the pink-haired boy who I know to be Park Jimin jeers, his melodic giggles punctuating each word. “Is this how you plan on handling your first rejection?”
My eyebrows pull together in confusion as I turn to face Seokjin, only to find him lying dramatically on the lawn in front of his house with one arm throw over his face.
“Go away, Jimin,” Seokjin groans, ripping out a handful of grass and throwing it at the other boy. Obviously, he doesn't calculate for the wind and sputters when the grass blows back in his face.
“Boss, you’ve really hit a new low,” the blue-haired boy - Kim Taehyung - grins as he looks back and forth between me and the over-the-top performance happening on the lawn. All Seokjin does in return is flip Taehyung off, seeming to have learned from his grass-throwing lesson.
Well, there’s no need for me to stay a second longer within this realm of crazy.
I turn on my heel and head off towards the library, renewed in my desperation for the relief of blissfully cold air.
Alas, I don’t get too far before the two boys with colorful hair are in front of me - each with an arm thrown over the other’s shoulders. 
“Well, well, well… I must say,” Taehyung drawls.
“You’re quite an intriguing little thing,” Jimin cocks his head, looking me up and down. I try in vain to steel myself against the heated assessments both boys are giving me.
I’d heard a lot about these two - most of it being completely outlandish and borderline unbelievable. Do they really do everything together?
It’s as if that thought is written all over my face as the smirks grow on the faces of Jimin and Taehyung. “If you don’t want to come to our party for Jin-hyung…”
“Will you come for us?” Taehyung finishes Jimin’s thought, and I am almost certain that he intended for that question to be as suggestive as it sounded.
Before I can even attempt to answer, Seokjin launches up from the ground and barges in between the two boys. “Yah! That is no way to speak to a lady! Have I taught you nothing? Don’t you fools remember lesson number fifty-two on being a good host?”
“We didn’t say anything inappropriate, pres,” Taehyung shrugs, looking pleased with how riled up the older boy is growing. His pink-haired counterpart grins, “If anything, you’re the one with the dirty mind, twisting our innocent words into such filth.”
It’s as if Seokjin is struck by lightning - his shock turning him pale as a ghost before the redness overtakes him. I cannot tell if it’s due to embarrassment or anger. All I know is that I need to bounce.
When Mt. Seokjin finally erupts, I slink away and practically jog across the street to campus. Ah, free at last...
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a/n: this is part one in my host club series! originally i was going to make this a giant one-shot but i figured i would just break it up into smaller pieces so that i could get some content out uwu
© luxekook do not repost, edit or translate
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I am so very sick and tired of the toxicity that’s been poisoning the snk fandom as of the last couple years. I gave myself time to digest the ending and my feelings on it, before embarking in a journey to debunk many misconceptions and critiques I’ve seen floating in the fandom.
By the way, by no means I think this ending is perfect. I think this is textbook execution by Isayama to tie together every loose end left behind in an orderly manner, and I think that it was a bit rushed and oversimplified. I would’ve wanted more of Eren and Armin’s conversation, more of the squad realizing what his true goal had been, and some narrative choices I don’t 100% agree with. But still, what I saw in other fans’ critiques post 139 frankly appalled me, so I feel the need to make this. Also, this obviously are my own interpretations, I am not Isayama himself lol
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“Ew, so Eren did pull a Lelouch after all”
No, Eren did not pull a Lelouch. While his action and the final result may seem similar, I find very different nuances between the two. Lelouch wanted for the whole world to be united in fighting against him, and thus he made himself the world’s greatest enemy. His will to turn himself into a monster was selfless. Eren didn’t give a damn about the world, he had no noble intentions whatsoever. He said it in chapter 122, his goal was to protect Paradis and, more specifically, his closest friends. He turned himself into a monster, killed 80% of human population, and endangered the lives of those very friends he wanted to protect, so that by stopping him, those friends could be safe. Eren had no intentions to break out of the cycle of hatred or unite the world against himself, he just wanted to give his friends a chance to survive, and that is not selfless, it’s selfish. Eren’s goal was incredibly selfish, and biased, and driven by his feelings instead of rationality. Nothing like Lelouch!
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Now this, this I myself am not the greatest fan of. I feel like it makes that great scene in chapter 122 loose a bit of its strength, Ymir obeying the king for 2000 years just because she loved him. Honestly, I always thought there was a bit of Stockholm Syndrome going on, but I didn’t think it would be the only reason. However, like it or not, it’s undeniable that it makes perfect sense in the narrative that aot has always strived to tell. Love has been a theme strongly woven in the story, and it also draws a great parallel between Karl Fritz/Ymir and Eren/Mikasa. Ymir was a slave to her love for King Fritz, just like Mikasa was a slave to her love for Eren, in that she struggled to accept reality until the very end despite the atrocities that Eren committed. Ymir stayed bound by her love for King Fritz, until she saw Mikasa break from her own poisoned love, aknwoledge it, and kill Eren despite of it, or maybe because of it. Only Ymir knows that one, heh. But the point is, Mikasa showed Ymir that she could break free of a toxic love, she was that someone that Ymir had been waiting for to finally free her of her burden.
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“What? But that makes no sense!”
Now, on my first read, I simply thought that Eren had ordered Dina to avoid eating Berthold, and that he had made her walk down that road unaware that his mother was trapped (because we know that the Attack Titan’s future memories aren’t infallible, there are still gaps), killing her indirectly. I’ve since then read some theories stating that Eren willingly killed his own mum in orther to give kid himself a reason to feel enough hatred to kickstart the whole story. Honestly, I like this version maybe more! But let me explain to you why this is not a plothole, like many people think. In this same chapter, we have Eren explaining how the Founder’s power works in synergy with the Attack’s: “There’s no past or future, they all exist at once”. This means that time travel in aot doesn’t work in a manner where Eren extracts himself from time and space, and from a separate realm he operates on the past. The way I understood it, the mechanics works kind of like Tokyo Revengers’ time travel. MInd you, I only watched episode one, so my understanding might be jackshit.
Spoilers for Tokyo Revengers’ episode one. In the show, the main character loses consciousness and finds himself reliving his past. He interacts with someone in this “new” past, and when he wakes up again in the present, past events had been over-written by the changes he made. I think this is how aot timetravel works, with the exception that, since past and future (and present, of course) all happen at once, side by side, there is no old past to be rewritten, neither a future to return to, and present Eren wouldn’t be aware of the changes that his future self would make. It creates sort of a time paradox, yes, in the sense that there’s a loop where present Eren’s mom has been eaten because future Eren, in the future, operated on the past by causing past Eren’s mom to be eaten, but all these Erens are one and the same, as all timelines exist at once.
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“Boo-hoo they ruined Eren’s character, he’s such a wimp!”
I have to confess (isn’t this appalling, that this is a thing that I have to confess, what the actual fuck), I am an Eren stan. I absolutely do not consider myself a Jaegerist, I think Eren’s option was better than Zeke’s, yes, but it was morally wrong and awful and he absolutely was not only in the wrong, but also if he wasn’t dead I’d want him to be punished for his crimes. I didn’t particularly enjoy him pre-timeskip, and I started to like him because I found his evolution fascinating. I wanted to understand his motives, what was going on in his head, he was a puzzle that I wanted to solve. Maybe because I’m a psychologist, who knows. Anyways, if you’re an Eren stan only because he acted like a chad and now you cry his character was ruined, I’m sorry to say, you never understood him. Eren was not a god, he was not a strategist playing 5d chess with perfect rationality, Eren was the same he has always been. He was a young man spun along by his passions. Eren feels things with burning intensity, he lets himself be driven by his emotions. He almost flattened the world because he was disappointed that he and his friends weren’t the only human beings inhabiting it, for fuck’s sake, he’s always been irrational, selfish, and immature. Of course he doesn’t wanna die, of course he want’s to live with all of them. You really expected a 15 year old hot-headed brat to become Thanos after he suddenly found out he killed his own mum and all his dreams had been crushed? Of course he felt conflicted, of course he suffered, of course he wanted to live, “because he was born in this world”. Honestly, when I read his meltdown, I felt relieved that his character hadn’t been turned on its head, it was heartbreaking to see that he really was the same brat he’d always been, that he’d tried to steel himself to do horrible shit for his friends’ sake and that he felt bad about it! It made me appreciate his character a lot more, I felt nostalgic towards the times when I was irritated by his screaming and pouting. Suffice to say, this is also my answer to all those people that believe his internal monologue to convince himself the Rumbling was what he really wanted were bullshit since he “pulled a Lelouch”. How can it be bullshit? Maybe he planned to be stopped, but he also said that he thought he would’ve still done it if they hadn’t. He also said that killing a majority of the population was something that he wanted to do, not a byproduct of the alliance not stopping him early enough, because with the world’s militaries in shambles Paradis would’ve had time to prepare accordingly. Anyways, of course he needed to convince himself to do this awful thing even if he knew he wasn’t gonna succeed completely, can you imagine how horrible it would be to know your only chance is to kill thousands?
I also maybe think it was because of the spine centipede thingy? When Eren says “I don’t know why I did it, I wanted to, I had to”, he gets this faraway look on his face and we get a zoom in on one of his eyes, which is drawn very interestingly and kinda looks like the Reiss’ eyes when they were bound by the War Renounce Pact? So maybe it was also the centipede’s drive to survive and multiplicate that forced Eren to do the Rumbling so that its life wouldn’t be endangered. I don’t know how much I like this, I feel like it takes some agency away from Eren and also makes it feel like he’s not as responsible for the genocide he committed that we initially though, which mhhh maybe not, let’s have him take full responsibility for this. As I said, I’m not defending Isayama blindly, I do have some issues myself with what went down.
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“What the fuck, did he say thank you for the genocide?”
Guys c’mon, this is like,, reading comprehension. Yes, it was poorly worded and a bit rushed, but by now you should have full context to make an educated guess on the fact that no, he didn’t thank him for committing a genocide what the fuck you guys. Armin started bringing up the idea that maybe they should have Eren eaten because he was doing morally questionable things ever since the Marley Arc, which for manga readers was like what, 2018? Isayama has been showing for three years how not okay Armin was with Eren’s actions, how could it make sense for him to thank him for a genocide? You see some poorly worded stuff, and your first instinct is to ignore eleven years’ worth of consistent characterization to jump to the worst interpretation possible? Let’s go over this sentences and reconstruct what they mean.
“Eren, thank you. You became a mass murdere for our sake. I won’t let this error go to waste”. Armin recognizes that Eren had no other choice, but does not condone it. He clearly calls it an error, which feels like an euphemism but for all we know the japanese original term used could’ve been harsher. Point is, he clearly states he think what Eren did was wrong. But he recognizes that Eren’s awful doing opened up a path for Paradis to break out of the cycle of hatred. Not a certainty, but an opportunity. He thanks Eren for giving them this chance, and promises not to waste it, even if it was born out of an atrocity. He thanks Eren for sacrificing himself for their sake, even if he doesn’t agree with the fruit of his labor, so to speak. He’s thanking Eren for the opportunity that his actions gave them, not for the actions themselves! Where the hell do you read “thank you for the genocide” guys, sheesh. I’m mad at y’all.
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“How could Eren send MIkasa memories if she’s an Ackerman and an Asian, and their memories can’t be manipulated by the Founder? I call plothole!”
Now, here we’re going into speculation territory, so you’ve been warned. I don’t think that that information they gave us was true, about Ackermans being immune to memory manipulation. We know at least that the clan is in some way subject to the Founder’s power, or Mikasa and Levi wouldn’t have been called in the Paths by Eren multiple times. Stories never being entirely true or false, or relativity, better said, has been a strong theme in the story, we know this by Marley’s and Eldia’s different accounts of history compared to the actual Ymir backstory we got. So who’s to say that the belief that Ackermans aren’t manipulable is the truth? Maybe they’re just hard to control, not impossible. We know that by the Founder’s ability Eren experienced past and future happening simultaneously, so he could’ve very well been trying to send those memories into Mikasa’s head ever since the beginning of the story, only just succeeding in chapter 138. It would at least explain Ackerman’s headaches as Eren trying to manipulate their memories and failing. Of course, we’d need Levi side of thing to know for certain, as he had headaches too and we weren’t shown in the chapter if Eren spoke to him in paths like he did with the rest of the squad. We know he didn’t talk to Pieck, but he even went and spoke to Annie who he basically hadn’t seen since Stohess, so I hope he spoke to Levi too. Who knows, maybe he even spoke with Hanji, but she died before she could remember. I wish we were shown that, honestly, I’m sad that it was skipped, especially after Levi said in an earlier chapter that “there was so much he wanted to tell Eren”. Fingers crossed for the anime to expand on it.
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“So Historia’s pregnancy was useless”
What? No, it wasn’t useless! Eren told her to get pregnant to save her life, so that she wouldn’t be turned into the Beast Titan. If she became the Beast Titan, then Eren would’ve had to enact the plan with her instead of Zeke, and yeah, Ymir brought the power of the titans with her, so theoretically Titan Shifter Historia would’ve had her time limit removed, but we saw that the only way for the Alliance to stop the Rumbling was killing Zeke, so Historia would’ve had to die. Useless to say, when Eren talked to her about his plan, she was very vocally against it, so I don’t think she would’ve helped Eren with his plan. It was Zeke or nothing, and the only way for Zeke to keep his titan was for Historia to be unable to be turned, hence the pregnancy. Did y’all read the same thing I read? Anyways, she could’ve definitely been handled better, but she wasn’t necessary to the plot anymore, and her being removed from it in such a way was sad, yes, but it made sense.
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“They massacred Reiner!”
Yeah, can’t really say anything about this. I definitely understand the sentiment behind this scene, which I appreciate. It’s to show that thanks to his Titan being removed and the times of peace approaching, Reiner was finally able to shed the weight he bore on his shoulders and “regress” to his more carefree persona he had when he thought he was a soldier, instead of a warrior. I am very happy for him, and I think it’s a nice conclusion to his arc, that he’s finally happy, but it could’ve been portrayed in a less comic relief-y way. It just sledgehammers all his characterization. Feels surreal that we saw him attempt suicide a couple month ago in the anime and now he’s sniffing Historia’s handwriting.
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Guys, this absolutely sends me. There are people who unironically believe Eren actually reincarnated in a bird? Guys. It makes no sense, it violates every rule that Isayama established for his universe’s power system. How could he even reincarnate in a bird? Guys, c’mon, this is symbolical! Birds have been heavily used in aot to portray freedom, and this is a nice, poetic, symbolic way to show that Eren who lived his whole life chasing freedom and never actually got it, is finally free, like a bird, now that he’s dead. It’s also a pretty explicit nod to Odin, I think. Aot is heavily inspired by Norse Mithology, and I think there were some pretty clear parallels between Eren and Odin/Loki in the later arcs of the story. Eren has been shown to “communicate” through birds like with Falco in chapter 81, or with Armin in chapter 131. Emphasis on “communicate” because again, this is symbolic, I don’t think he actually spoke through the birds, he simply talked to them via paths, but birds are associated with Eren’s character (see also the wings of freedom, y’know?) and the shots were framed so to give the impression that he was talking through the birds, but he wasn’t. Symbolism. Anyway, I really think they were supposed to be a nod to Odin’s crows.
Aaaaand that should be it! Even though I most definitely forgot some other criticism on the chapter, it’s crazy the amount of negativity floating around. Hope I didn’t bore you!
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noneatnonedotcom · 4 years
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RWBY before Oswald is stuck in a hard place the council needs a mission done but no one is willing to sully their hands and he can't bring himself to go see jaune he tries to talk to ruby only to have her publicly rip him a new one stating her beloved isn't a tool to be used by him and the council when he sees fit
   right so sorry I took so long with this but as you can see I did put a lot of effort into this, I hope you all like it. also @bssaz97 I’m tagging you because I know you like this au and wanted to do a scene or two with summer and tai so figured it was best to make sure you were in on the new “cannon”
                                       ADAM’S PEAK
This was a disaster, not just militarily but personally. It was devastating news, and Oswald wasn’t sure just what to do about it.
A white fang general had taken the faunas’ elite troops and had gone on a mad crusade through Vale’s countryside. In a little under a week, they would cross the western mountain chains and be into their heartlands.
The fact that Adam was not acting under orders would do little to calm the hatred of vale and the other kingdoms. Menagerie might very well be whipped off the map as a result.
The actual problem was that the huntsmen were not ready for combat like this, he barely had a thousand of the newly minted warriors, and adam was marching with some six-thousand-five-hundred troops. All with aura unlocked. All with years, sometimes decades of experience in human combat. And well equipped too. The only ones with an army left after his idea to rely solely on huntsmen was Atlas. And their military commanders were… less than ready for the war to come.
There was only one man who could save them, and Oswald already owed him too much to be willing to ask him himself.
But his hands were tied with the news that came in this morning. The council of Atlas had called back the expeditionary force under the command of ironwood. There was a significant uproar over this fact, and the returning general ironwood had launched an investigation, but Oswald knew the truth.
The first battle with the white fang was a disaster. While ironwood managed to get his men out fast enough, Adam had defeated the army soundly. It was only ironwood’s impeccable tactical understanding that allowed him to survive it. With most of his army but none of the provisions as their camp was ransacked and raided as they were forced to retreat.
And now only one man could save them, and Oswald couldn’t bring himself to ask.
When he explained the situation to ruby, she had been quiet for a long time before she finally asked, “Is that all he is to you? A sword you can draw in times of war and put away when you’d rather not face the dark truth? Who do you think you are to ask him for more after what he gave! His family was nearly left destitute by you! His legacy and way of life are gone! His reputation tarnished! His very dreams now taken from him, and I have to lie awake a night listening to his nightmares! All on your orders!” she was shouting, now unable to sit with the anger coursing through her. “WHAT MORE CAN YOU TAKE FROM HIM? THERE’S NOTHING LEFT FOR YOU, OSWALD. ALL THAT’S LEFT TO HIM IS HIS LIFE AND HIS HONOR!” she was crying now Oswald reached out trying to offer comfort to the girl by she smacked his hand away.
She glared at the man she once saw as a grandfather “he’ll go, we both know he’ll go. He’s a knight of Vale. He’ll always stand ready to protect those he loves. He’ll give the full measure of devotion for his kingdom” she turned away “you don’t deserve him, none of you do, but he’ll take up lance and sword for you” her final words as she shut the door behind her “you deserve eternal life.”
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In the backroom of the council chambers, Adam Taurus smirked, looking over his weapon a katana. Menagerie had ordered him to stand down. Told him that the time of heroes was at an end. But adam knew there was one last trial left for those who sought to be a hero. One final glory before the end of the age. And his name was Sir. Jaune the Just.
Though adam preferred his other name.
The butcher of anima.
The knight’s age was coming to an end, he knew it, jaune knew it, everyone knew it. But there would be one last glorious battle before the end. It was only a matter of setting things up. He needed jaune out of vale and away from his retenue. Luckily for him, the council wanted to be rid of the knight. And of Oswald. All they needed to do was have Oswald be the one who sent jaune out, and when the hero died, both would be gone.
This battle needed to happen. It was his last chance. If he missed this, it was over. His name would never be mentioned in the history books. But if he could take the head of the butcher? Then his name would live forever as the last knight of the world. And the last great general.
When the councilors came and told him the news, he was overjoyed. But he kept his mask up. All he needed from these fools was a chance to kill jaune. Once that was done, their bargain was complete.
And vale was wide open for plunder.
Yes, if this was the last act of the heroic age, let him return to menagerie with a heroes bounty.
In a week’s time, he would face jaune at a no named castle fortress. He didn’t mind that it had no name. For by the end of this, it would be known as adam’s peak!
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Jaune stood before his army, his steel-like gaze casting over the lot of them. They were not knights, not even soldiers and barely men, but they were his. Not for the first time, he cursed the council for sending these men out to die with him rather than having the courage to execute him themselves simply. But he put aside his anger; this wasn’t about the council; this was about his men.
“Nothing is more becoming of a man than to be brave before your enemy,” he began, his voice clear and level as he made eye contact with as many of these boys as he could. Seeking to let them know he was there with them, “but a man may be afraid and still be brave!”
The soldiers, despite their nerves and apparent fear, perked up at this, “And any man who goes into battle without fear is a moonstruck fool! To be brave is to go forward anyway, no matter how a-feared! That is why I go forward in the company of so many other brave men.”
Jaune shot the men before him a grim, but encouraging smile, “I will not lie to you, I can promise you nothing but a hard struggle to come.” Jaune was met with silence before he continued you on, “What would you have me say? I will not lie, not to you, and not for any matters of strategy or state. I will not shame myself as such. But there is one thing I will tell you.”
“YOUR FATE SHALL BE THE SAME AS MINE,” the men cheered at this, “whatever glories in the battle to come, I want you to know that we shall share them, I will be by your side!”
Jaune saw the enemy army marching over the last swell of the hill, having divided themselves into two separate forces consisting of thirty-five hundred men each.
“It is a great honor to be thought of by the kingdoms as an educated and well-read man. After all, it is the home of one of the greatest places of learning in the world! But I tell you this, in all of my studies, I have never encountered the likes of our foes! They would fill bestiaries yet unwritten, and good scholars would blush to write of their perversities!”
“And finally, I can tell you as a man of learning that a book can be beneficial before a battle, I would not recommend Tacitus though, the pages of his books are very rough on your nether regions!” the men laughed. Jaune raised his sword, “THEY WILL REMEMBER!”
A great cheer went up as the men rushed to their positions, forming together in tight spear walls on the mountain’s steep incline.
For Jaune, there was only one truth that rang in his head at the moment, that invincibility is found in defense, but victory can only be found in the offense. It’s why he had ignored the small wooden walls of the “castle” behind him.
No, he wouldn’t die cowering behind the wooden wall of a fort. His destiny lay down the hill before him. And with a determined look upon his face, Jaune kicked his horse into a gallop and went down the hill; his banner raised high...
… And rode right past the second army, making their way up towards him.
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Adam would give this to Jaune; he had indeed done his best to give his men every possible advantage. A lesser commander would have hidden behind those wooden walls at the top of the mountain, but not Jaune. He had sallied out and met him, man to man, on the field of battle. But Adam wasn’t worried. Even with such a steep incline helping the enemy, they were no match for trained soldiers with armor and aura.
The poor peasants that the council had sent to die with Jaune would be remembered at the very least, as they would have the privilege of taking place in the last battle of the Age of Knights. A movement out of the corner of his eyes showed him the banner of house arc proudly dancing in the breeze, with Jaune running down the mountainside right past his army.
He immediately ordered his second army to give chase as the envelopment meant nothing to him. In time these farmers with their pointy sticks would fall, but Jaune must not be allowed to escape and rally a defense elsewhere.
It was not some three minutes later when his lieutenants spoke of Jaune coming for them, leaving Adam to gape at such an action. What Lunacy, surely, no one would be foolish enough to charge an army on their own?!
Adam had little time to comprehend his enemy’s ploy, for when he turned around to the battlefield, he was greeted with a sight to behold. For there before him, plowing through his men as if they were nothing more than dominoes to be toppled over was Jaune Arc: His horse a resplendent white; His armor a polished to a perfect shine; and with his lance couched at a perfect angle as he connected with the unsuspecting Adam’s armor.
There was a moment of resistance before Adam felt weightless as he was taken off his horse from the momentum of Jaune’s weapon crashing against his armor. Then, he felt a flare of pain as Jaune’s lance tore through his armor and pierced his heart in a clean kill before his limp body crashed against the cold, hard ground in an undignified heap.
And then, there was nothing but the void of darkness to greet him.
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Lie Ren was not a knight. He wasn’t even a soldier. He was a farmer, a poor one at that, so when the council had said they needed men to act as levies, he’d signed up. He figured they’d have him digging ditches and carrying supplies, nothing too overtly complex he’d imagine.
But not this
The world was a haze of violence and pain in front of him; faunas in heavy armor struggled uphill through their wall of spears. He thrust without thinking, hoping that it might dissuade the warriors, while every few seconds, another cry would go up as one of his allies took a blow. Nearly all of them were bleeding now, yet none dared to fall, for to fall now would surely lead to their death. Before them, the mass of knights had formed a solid wall; he’d kill for a musket like the one Nora had wanted to buy him, but it was too expensive, and he wanted to save the money to get new farm equipment.
That steam tractor seemed so frivolous right now.
A flash of steel was his only warning as the man next to him died, clutching his throat. Eyes wide, begging for help the first one but most likely not the last. Ren thrust the spear, again and again, ignoring his growing fatigue as he did so. He’d survive this, and he’d make it home to Nora, that’s all that mattered.
But how? They were surrounded.
He wondered if Nora would find another, he hoped so. She deserved happiness, more than he could offer her, that was for sure. Her smile was the best thing about her. It was what drove him to work so hard. Knowing that she’d be back at home waiting for him, he could endure any hardships for that smile. He was hoping to marry her when he got back when the farm was stabilized, and they could build their lives together.
He hoped she wouldn’t mourn too long.
It was just as he was about to give up when he saw him; Sir Arc had gotten behind enemy lines. Down the massive slope, he could see the other half of the army giving chase. And it all happened in slow motion.
Sir Arc Riding up the hill
His lance lowered just as the enemy general turned to see him.
A great screeching as the lance went through the armor of the faunas.
There was a moment of stunned silence.
And then they started screaming.
Panic took the enemy that just a second before was utterly unfazed by them. But now, with their spirits broken, so too was their aura.
The battle was now a haze of red, and Ren gave chase without thinking. He needed this, needed to kill them as they had tried before. He stabbed with his spear running down the fleeing knights as they tried to escape his spear, barely having the time to rechamber as he killed with reckless abandon.
This was no longer a battle; it was a glorious red hazed slaughter, the most potent high of rage elation and victory ren had ever felt, and he needed more, and more, and more! Let the world drown in his enemy’s blood.
HE’D KILL THEM ALL!
Eventually, though, they ran out of men. And ren came down from his high, all around him were tired bloody men, but more importantly, the field was covered in a carpet of dead knights, so much so that the grass couldn’t be seen underneath.
Ren looked at the sky, and that couldn’t be right.
The sun hadn’t moved; it was still high noon.
It had felt like hours, but…
“One thousand men, and seven and a half minutes,” came the voice of Sir Arc. Ren took in the sight of their savior. His horse, once pure white, was now covered in red. His armor the same, his eyes tired. “That’s what it took to gain victory over six-thousand-eight-hundred and thirty-eight men. All consisted of the greatest knights still living after the great war, and the Faunus rights revolution. And the leadership to the militant arm of the white fang” Sir Arc laughed, “and it took me seven and a half minutes AND A THOUSAND FARMERS WITH POINTY STICKS!” and the call went up, the men cheered and hollered. Their cries echoing off the mountain.
Ren would go home to Nora; when he did, they would make love, to the point that he exhausted her. And they would keep going until a week later when Ren’s pay would show up, along with a sizable bonus, and a note.
In time all this would happen, but for now, ren stood on the pile of corpses, covered in blood, spear raised high over his head, and he screamed his victory to the gods on the slopes of what would be known as Adam’s peak.
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Legends would be told of this battle jaune knew as he looked over the clean up being done by his men, the knights of note and the leaders were being beheaded, jaune personally doing the honors for adam. He had plans for all of them. He also had a message from adam’s personal effects back at his camp. He and the council would be having words, and all the world would know of their misdeeds.
The battle itself was the deathblow to the knightly way of life though, jaune could feel it in his bones. It was jaune’s victory purely because of the weaknesses of the knightly system. Aura was based on morale, how willing to fight a man was. When things were going well in a fight, this was all well and fine but scare a man, disrupt his concentration, and he could no longer muster the will to fight, then he was just as vulnerable as any other. Perhaps worse so, as all his skill was based on what he could do with his aura.
The weak point of an army was always their order of battle and morale. And when jaune had killed adam, it had broken them, they could have rallied, but luckily one brave warrior by the name of Lie Ren had rushed forward, seizing the initiative, and as a result, inspiring all the men behind him to push forward as well.
Lie Ren had won this battle just as much as he did.
But adam had committed everything to this battle and lost everything. The knightly system was high risk, high reward, with no real way of knowing how the results would turn out.
The huntsman system didn’t have this problem. It was decentralized, meaning you couldn’t kill a general to break the enemy’s will. And the loss of a team of hunters meant very little in the grand scheme of things. Vale could lose again and again now and still have more to give.
The system was simply a higher reward for lesser risk. And so jaune was faced with the unenviable knowledge that he was the one to end the age of knights. And that he would be the last commander for the final battle.
The after-action report was straightforward. After all, he was only writing it for Oswald. And that was only so ruby would know he was alive before he showed up with the heads of his enemy. Perhaps vale would hate him for this as well, but he no longer cared what happened to that den of vipers.
Jaune had been stationed in the mountains that will henceforth be known as Adam’s peak. He had one-thousand levies from the local farms, poorly trained and equipped. And he had been engaged by the enemy army of the White Fang numbering six-thousand-eight hundred and thirty-eight. Being made up of the elite knights and veteran leadership of the white fang. Knowing that the wooden castle walls would do him no good, he had set his men on the steepest slope in a choke point. It would not have granted him victory, but it had bought him time and had set up the next stage of his strategy.
Adam had sought to capture him for a grand execution and had sent half his army to ensure that he did not escape. Jaune had gambled on the fact that he was a high priority of the enemy general and had run past the second army with his banner held high. Jaune was right in that the enemy was quick to pursue him. He then made a suicidal charge through the back lines of the enemy and slew Adam in a single blow. Therefore, the morale of his enemy and their aura shattered the rest had been a simple mop-up action to ensure they could not rally. With him personally hunting down and killing the enemy commanders as his men slaughtered the rest.
Having followed him, the second army was already exhausted from the chase and, with their auras weakened, could not run away fast enough, blocking the first armies escape and ruining any chance of organizing resistance as units ran through each other to get away, utterly destroying cohesion.
In total, the battle had taken him seven and a half minutes. In seven and a half minutes, Jaune Arc had shifted the direction of fate and history and had secured for himself the title that all would know him by for the rest of his life.
Sir Jaune Arc, The Just, The Butcher Of Anima.
And The Knight of Miracles
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heroprose · 4 years
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pst part 2 for ‘write it in ash’ have mercy pLS
a/n. the fact that you’re a fan of that oldie made this one a priority….. forewarning for the regular antics when it comes to my writing LOL thanks for requesting!!
– for those who don’t know, i wrote a demon (summoning) au ft. our guy izuku over here!
//
you worry your bottom lip between your teeth. there’s a sliver of you that is in fact startled to find the incubus still in your living room when you returned from the bathroom. he sits so stiffly, so uneasily, that you wonder if it’s the atmosphere of your home that sets him on edge, or if that’s just how he comes across to all his clients.
you don’t blame him entirely if it’s the former rather than the latter; after all, it’s not every day you entertained demonic company in your apartment. it’s hard to know what sort of mannerisms to adopt in their horned presence. you actually think you’re grappling the situation better than most would.
and midoriya, for whatever reason, is pretending that he’s not watching you cross the room towards him, but it’s ridiculously obvious, from the way his gaze shoots about after accidentally meeting your gaze. 
the living room, to your disdain, still smells faintly of sulphur and that’s not something that can be scrubbed off in a day. nevertheless, you take a seat beside midoriya, leaving ample distance between you and him for niceties. 
“so,” you start, working to undo the palpable silence. “midoriya– if that’s even your real name– i’ve a few questions, if you don’t mind.”
“we’re bound to confidentiality,” he confesses, finally taking in your presence directly. “there are some things i just cannot tell you. but– but midoriya really is my real name. not my whole name, per se, since demons go by many names but– um, yes.” he trails off. “yeah. ask away.”
this, of course, perks your attention profoundly, your gaze traveling back to his eyes from lingering on the impressive pair of horns that sprout from somewhere underneath his green curls. “alright. is it like an nda agreement?” you press. “who do you work for? the devil? lucifer? beelzebub? do you live in hell?”
“i– apologies,” he says, sounding genuinely sorry as he shakes his head and his green hair bounces. “i really can’t answer any of those questions. but, you know, if you want to ask me anything in regards to being an incubus in particular, i’m sure i can offer you some insight.”
you nod. his awkward ambiguity could only lead you to conclude that yes, he probably did live in hell and work for the devil. “so like, what’s the demographic of your services?” you prompt, leaning in,
“pardon?” he says, eyebrows quirked way up.
“i mean, what kind of person would summon incubi?”
he thinks this over, his green eyes glancing away for a second. “humans,” he eventually offers.
your eyes thin out, unsure if he’s avoiding the question or just really that oblivious. “right,” you say. “virgins or occultists?”
this sends him for a loop. “um,” he lets slip. “well. you know. it really depends; i can’t really say– oh! maybe… maybe humans like you?”
you shake your head, before letting yourself slump back onto the couch, your head hitting the back cushion. “midoriya,” you complain, flutters of amusement pulling at your mouth. “you can’t just keep giving me these loose answers if you’re trying to get it on with me. besides, me summoning you was an accident! a happy one at that, but an accident all the same.”
he purses his lips. “sorry,” he says hastily, brows knitted before he fully registers your words. “wait– huh? no, no, i’m not trying to do anything, i swear! this is all on you.”
“all on me?”
midoriya nods briskly.
“so does that mean you have no say in the matter? whenever someone summons you, you go?”
he reaches behind to scratch the back of his neck. “well, not exactly,” he replies, and taps the coffee table where dark, charred lines have been carved in. “the sigil you’ve drawn here isn’t mine mine; it’s a general summoning symbol for incubi. we all get the signal, but i was the one to answer your call. um, i hope you don’t mind.”
“i see,” you hum, trying to fit this all in your head with human business parallels but to no avail. no matter what he says (or doesn’t say), it is plain to see he is not of this earth. you wonder if you can somehow tease the solid answer out of him for your own interest.
“is that all you wish to ask?” he stammers out. “i’ve never met a human with so many questions.”
you stare, skeptical. “you’re kidding,” you say. “no one has asked you stuff like, whether you live in hell or not? what having horns feels like? i think these are important things to clarify.”
his fingers lift up to hover over his dark, nearly black horns that point upward. the root of the horns are mostly hidden by his hair but still, they are impressive. you can’t help but want to touch.
“all demons have horns,” he says, tapping his right one. “how many of them and what color can vary though.”
“huh,” you say. “that’s cool.”
midoriya lets out a brief laugh, dropping his hand. “i suppose. they can be a bit unwieldy, honestly. i’ve torn so many shirts with these horns.”
“damn,” you say. “you’re tearing people’s clothes off?”
he coughs. “oh, no! no, not other people’s– i mean my own.”
“such a gentleman.” your cheeks are full of mirth and humor. “can i touch?”
“y-yeah, if you really want to,” he says, still abashed. 
you scoot closer and take a horn in your hand, feeling the ribbed keratin. the skin of it is powdery, and underneath the artificial ceiling lights, they gleam with a dull shine. you’re mesmerized, quite frankly, at how surreal your current predicaments felt. 
feeling too polite to go down to the base of the horn, you kept your fingers around the tip and the midsection, running them horizontally for a few moments, then vertically.
your thumb rubs along the ridges, so delighted in the novel texture that you don’t notice the pleasant expression on his face until you glance down.
his eyes have fluttered shut, and his breaths came deep and rhythmically, like small sighs– but his fists, his fists were clenched in his lap as he sat cross-legged facing your direction.
afraid you were doing something strange to him, you withdraw your hand. almost immediately his eyes reopens.
“sorry–” you both say in unison. his bright gaze dart away while you laugh.
“do you sap people’s energy through your horns?” you inquire.
he shakes his head. “nothing like that. it’s just that any kind of intimacy is, well, appreciated for our kind, you could say.”
“but if i just kept a five foot radius from you at all times, you’d eventually regain your health too?”
you don’t miss the way his face falls. “well, yes…”
“okay; that said, final question.”
“yes?”
“what’s your body count?”
there’s a beat before he reacts.
“b-body count?! you mean like how many people i’ve– you really want to know this sort of thing?” he sputters, instinctively drawing away as far as he could so his backside hit the inner arm of the couch.
“please,” you say, waving your hand around dismissively, as if to ease him. “i mean, you do look my age, but i bet you’re ancient. in human years, of course. this sort of thing doesn’t bother me.”
he blanches. “i’m… uhh…” his mouth open and closes wordlessly, and in the end, you’re to understand that he won’t be saying anything too incriminating.
“if you won’t tell me, i’ll have to take an educated guess then. is that okay?” there is barely a jerky tilt of the head from him before you continue. 
“low thousands,” you state. “actually, i’m being stingy. let’s say mid thousands.”
you’re certain that if he were drinking water, he would’ve spat it all over you at this point. blood seems to rush to his face, his ears turning a deep shade of red as he gapes at you. “where are you pulling these numbers?!”
“i don’t know how to gauge your reaction,” you muse, tapping your chin with a forefinger. “too low? i think it’s pretty high myself.”
“i– i think that’s plenty high!” he practically yells out of embarrassment and you nearly feel bad. nearly. 
you pull your knees underneath you on the couch and lean your hands on them. “come on. i can’t be far off. you seem like the type of guy that people can’t get enough of.”
midoriya mumbles something unintelligible under his breath, and you take a knee forward.
“what?” you ask.
his mouth parts, his tongue running along his bottom lip before breathing out, “i said, wouldn’t you like to know…?” the flush hasn’t left his ears yet at all and you suspect it won’t fade for a bit.
“hm,” you say, greatly entertained. with deliberation, you bring both your hands up to cup his cheeks. “i think you have me sold.” he almost sighs again, but cuts himself short, as if in an attempt to restrain himself.
“that’s good– great, great, i mean,” he says. his eyes drift to your thighs, and his fingers find purchase on your wrists. “and i have to confess–”
his unexpected speed catches you off guard, and in a split second, his fingers are gone and instead scrabbling at your waist, sinking lower by the second.
“i feel bad for not having questions of my own this entire time,” he says, his words almost stumbling over each other. “i hope you can forgive me.”
“is a demon asking me for my forgiveness?” you ask, biting the inside of your cheek. “flattering. maybe.”
midoriya’s eyes just gleam feverishly, but up close now, his gaze looks different. to be specific, you never noticed how almond-shaped his pupils really were, and how fast they were blowing up. “maybe… maybe i can make it up to you instead?” he asks and you find that there is nothing clever left to remark with.
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Dale Pon, R.I.P.
Pretty much the most famous media advertising campaign in history is “I Want My MTV!” –the May 2020 Google search returns 184,000 results, more than 30 years after the last flight ran– and it was the result of the brain of Dale Pon.*
* As I explain in detail in the pieces below, writer extraordinaire Nancy Podbielniak was the word spark for the campaign; it was George Lois who suggested ripping off “I Want My Maypo!” Dale Pon was the person who took these notions and turned them into brilliance.
Dale persuaded me and the powers that be at MTV that he could make it work, Dale who convinced MTV programmers to recording artists to participate for no fees. It was Dale who took the paltry budget allotted and strategized how to maximize the network’s cable distribution. And finally, it was Dale Pon’s dogged persistence and genius that caused cable operators across America to beg us to please stop running the campaign before all the telephone operators quit in frustration from all the people “demanding their MTV!!!” 
My great friend –and better mentor– Dale Pon, passed away from difficulties due to Parkinson’s and Covid19. There’s no way to convey all of the ways people expressed their sadness to me today, but one of them probably encapsulated things best by saying “Complicated but brilliant, creatively inspired, strategic like chess master , we were lucky to have been touched by his talents...” All too true. 
Dale could be –to say the least– a challenging personality. Determined to win, he could be a bulldozer crushing an ant. Warm at his core, he could be beyond generous will all he had at his disposal. Unlike many others with talent and raw intelligence, he was quick to share his remarkable thinking, lavish in his ability to elevate the talents of the shy and uncertain, and as bountiful with praises as he could be lacerating with his critical observations. He loved as deeply as he was able, and a constant explorer for the meanings of life. 
When it came to the work, there was no one better at understanding media, and getting fans interested in its rewards. I don’t know if it was his methodologies and personality, or the fact that media promotion wasn’t all that well respected in the ad biz, but Dale didn’t have too much of a profile in the advertising world. I think, ultimately, he was much more focused on the work than on the publicity. So, things being what they are, what I’ve collected seems to be the most comprehensive look at his career, at least the parts that I’ve directly touch. By no means is it comprehensive, I know nothing about his radio days in the early 70s, and little about his work after I joined the cartoon industry. But all of what I have is yours, below. 
I’ll lead with what a few of his colleagues and friends wrote a few years ago for Dale’s birthday. And then, below that, all the various campaign pieces (written from my perspective, of course) I’ve recalled over the years. 
.....
April 2016, on the occasion of Dale’s birthday.
Dale Pon, my mentor and friend. Fucking smart.
Dale Pon’s been on my mind lately, as he is almost every day, because of the ways he taught me to think about …. um,everything. I’ve written about some other important mentors before, but Dale’s influence was so staggering I could never figure out how to sketch it out in anything shorter than book length.  
“Dominate the space.” (He was referring to graphic design, but it might have served as a life philosophy).
“Of course, there’s an absolute truth.”
“You remember the first thing you see, but the last thing you hear.”
“The power of three.” (Broke that rule with this list.)
“Advertising is a frequency medium.”
“You make album tracks. I make hit songs.”
I’m not sure that he ever thought of himself as particularly quotable, but as you’ll see below, I wasn’t alone in internalizing. There were hundreds more bon mots, most of which he probably forgot as soon as he said them but stuff I’ve never been able to shake off, to this day.
His resume doesn’t do him justice, but quickly… For 40 years, Dale Pon was at the forefront of media programming and promotion for many of the major media companies, CBS, NBC, Viacom, Storer Broadcasting (where we met). He specialized in radio throughout his career, but when Bob Pittman moved into cable television, he prevailed there too (“I Want My MTV!” is still returns hundreds of thousands of Google search results, 30 years after it went off the air). He was wildly successful in an advertising agency partnership with ad legend George Lois, before setting up a solo shop, Dale Pon Advertising, in New York City.
Dale was brash and loud, very, and he certainly wasn’t to everyone’s taste. The friend who first recommended me for one of his jobs called in a rage when he quit and said if I really needed a gig so badly… I knew Dale’s work from its supremacy of the metropolitan subway system for the New York country music powerhouse (a paradox if there ever was one) WHN Radio, but it hadn’t occurred to me that actual human beings created advertising, or that it took any real brain power. Dale quickly disabused me of that notion, as he sent me to his tailor to buy me my first three piece suit (more appropriate for Park Avenue media than the cut off shorts I wore to our interview).
Most of all, he was really fucking smart. And deeply, articulately, astute about media. He could tell the story of radio stations or television networks better than anyone, and persuade their audiences to fall profoundly in love, by sticking to the basic human emotions like truth, desire, love. (My favorite? “Love songs, nothing but love songs” for WPIX-FM, directly appropriated for an Off-Broadway show). He didn’t end it there, with a creative, strategic and statistical brilliance that combined, to quote Bob Pittman (from another context completely) “math and magic.”
What I appreciated most was his intense, almost overwhelming desire to teach me everything he knew at exactly the moment I was desperate for his knowledge. In fact, as I observed him with myself and others over the years, it would be fair to say that if you wasn’t interested in being taught, Dale Pon wasn’t interested in you. And, not for nothing, it went both ways. He’s was as incisive a questioner and listener as one could want. Curious, intrigued, dying to know anything on almost any subject. In my case, it meant that we generally spent six or seven days together all the years we were together in two different media capitals. Whew!
Difficult? Challenging? Exasperating? You bet. I wouldn’t trade that time for anything.
Dale’s the one who changed the course of my work life, and as Scott Webb says below, “he changed me.” It’s because of Dale that I stumbled on my understanding that I wasn’t a music guy after all, or even a TV baby, but a pop culture sponge. I wouldn’t had the chance to participate in any of the culture shiftings I got to observe first hand. Who knows, maybe I would’ve stumbled through a life of complete dissatisfaction. That’s how profound his influence was on me.
Dale’s birthday recently passed by, and stuck for cogent things to say about him, I reached out to a few friends who’ve crossed his path and might be better at expressing themselves than I ever could. You’ll notice they’re pretty powerful personalities themselves, but Dale made an impression. Boy, did he make an impression. (I left out some of those controversial moments and unproductive comments.)
Well, our friends didn’t let us down. They got to the heart of the matter in ways I never could. Thanks everyone.
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Herb Scannell: Mythical.
Dale Pon is mythical.
He’s the man who “wanted his MTV” and got the world to say the same. My friend Fred always claimed that he learned whatever he knew from Dale and whatever I know I learned from Fred so it all comes back to Dale. Or blame them both. Happy Birthday Dale! Forever young!
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Bob Pittman: The Mad Scientist.
Dale Pon is the mad scientist of advertising. Full of passion, always with a breakthrough idea and the urgency to get it done quickly with no compromises. He made a huge contribution to my successes at WNBC Radio, MTV and even Six Flags theme parks. One of a kind….happy birthday to him from a big fan!
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Scott Webb: “Most people don’t know how to think.”
Dale Pon didn’t just change my life he changed me. He encouraged me to be brave and fearless and never stop solving problems. He is one of the smartest people I have ever met and the teacher I will never forget.
You never know how things are going to happen. After 4 years at Sarah Lawrence, one of the most expensive liberal arts schools, I was clueless about a career. My secret wish was to write comics (mostly because I had no talent to draw). Unlike most of my class at SLC my parents were basically working class folks with a yankee work ethic who expected me to not move back home after graduation.
One January evening, I was talking with my friend Betsy K who had just graduated. She had just returned home from job hunting in the city. She had an interview at WNBC Radio; they weren’t hiring but were looking for interns. “What’s an intern?” I asked. I was so naive.
I immediately fell in love with the energy of the radio station. I had to work there.
“You’ll be working for Dale Pon. He’s very demanding. Do you think you can handle that?” asked Buzz Brindle, a WNBC program director. Me? Of course! I’ve got my Yankee work ethic and my Sarah Lawrence education. I thought I was ready for anything. But I was not ready for Dale Pan.
Dale was bigger than life, louder than anyone else in the company and frequently slammed the door to his tiny office. I found him brilliant, charismatic and intimidating.
My first big assignment for Dale was to create a chart of all the radio stations in New York and rank them by ratings performance over the past 2 years. I wanted to do a great job for him but the truth was that I was terrible at chart making. I was a liberal arts comic book kid and he had me doing statistical analysis and I knew if I did a bad job I would probably face his famous wrath behind a slammed closed door. But despite my inept chart building, Dale painstakingly taught me how to read the Arbitron reports and methodically went through my work and instructed me how to correct it. I learned more from him over that 5 month internship than I had in my last 2 years of college. But my lesson wasn’t in statistical analysis or radio promotion. Dale had high expectations of me, he believed in me and he was demanding in the pursuit of excellence.
A lot of people at the station didn’t like Dale mostly because he would raise his voice to make a point or because he was passionate about his beliefs, or would not hold back his opinion when something was mediocre, pedestrian or just plain stupid. Dale expected greatness in people, work and business. His mission was to win and often people found that difficult to embrace. I, on the other hand, found it awesome. I guess he reminded me of the comic book heroes I admired so much - characters who were extraordinary and could do things other people thought were impossible. Most people at the radio station were happy to have a job and get a paycheck and could care less about being #1 but for him that was all that mattered.
It didn’t hurt that he was so smart and insightful. He had the uncanny super power of understand exactly what the problem was – and he taught me that creativity was the ability to solve problems in fresh, innovative and smart ways.
“Do you know why I hired you?” he asked me at the end of my internship. “I didn’t want to hire one of those kids who studied advertising or media in college. Those kids have been ruined. They show up thinking they already know everything - and they haven’t even had a job yet. You didn’t know anything but you were willing to learn and think. Most people don’t know how to think.”  
Those were some of the most important words I ever heard. They lit a fire of confidence and trust in myself that did not exist before and served me throughout my life, not just in work but in life.
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Bill Sobel: He yelled at me on the phone…no idea why.
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Noreen Morioka: “Good creates things, and Evil destroys it.”
There is no doubt that we all have a great Dale Pon story. Dale never did anything average. He did everything in extremes. Whether you were laughing so hard that you couldn’t breathe or wanting to shake him like a rag doll, Dale is unforgettable.
One of my favorite Dale Pon stories is when he was pitching a new name for a network. Since the channel was going to be all re-runs of a lower level, Dale named it Trash TV. I loved it, but when I presented my designs, he thought what I did wasn’t trashy enough and proceeded to get another designer to put flies swarming around the proposed logomark. When he presented his concept to the network president, he stopped at the building dumpster and pulled out garbage to bring up to presentation. Needless to say, the meeting didn’t go well, and the president was furious that Dale brought garbage into his beautiful office. Stern words were exchanged on both sides and security was called to take Dale and garbage out of the office. He called later to let me know they were going to search for another name. The network changed their name several times since then, and each time Dale would just smile. We all knew his solution was genius.
Like you, Fred, Dale taught me a lot. He taught me never to settle, always come back stronger and most importantly what the difference between good and evil was.
“Good creates things, and Evil destroys it.” Thanks to this simple Dale Pon-ism, I live my life by.
I will always have a deep respect and love for that guy. Happy Birthday, Dale. You are the true original.
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Tina Potter: So thoughtful.  
Dale is a magnanimous gift-giver. I once told him the Chrysler Building was my favorite building in NY, and the next time I saw him, he brought me a beautiful framed B&W print of the building! So thoughtful. I still have it!
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Judith Bookbinder: ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE.
I learned a lot from Dale in a very short time.
Dale taught me that ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE.
If you want to make something happen, figure it out or find someone who can do it for you.
This simple wisdom is something that has served me throughout my professional life.
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Ed Salamon: Directness and Simplicity.  
I always appreciate the opportunity to say something nice about Dale, but the stories that first came to mind involved women, drugs, and fistfights. Or were otherwise too self-incriminating. Here’s what I’ve come up with:
The genius of Dale’s creativity is its directness and simplicity (like “I Want My MTV!”). Unfortunately that sometimes resulted in it being underappreciated.
When we worked together at WHN Radio I once heard our boss say to Dale at the end of the day “We need a new ad campaign slogan for the station by tomorrow. Take twenty minutes tonight, walk around the Village and come up with something.”
When I later started The United Stations Radio Network with Dick Clark and others, we hired Dale to create the logo, which  he agreed to do out of friendship for only a nominal fee. The logo was a distinctive type face, with the letters stuck together (“united”). Some in the company commented that it was too simple; others appreciated its genius.
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Tom Freston: A great bunch of guys.
Dale is a great bunch of guys. Argumentative, persistent, a perfectionist, fun, difficult, and smart as hell….winning, ultimately, most of his arguments. Happy birthday.
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Therese Gamba: “Work smarter, not harder.”
Long before there was “Better Call Saul” it was “Better Call Dale”  when you were faced with a creative challenge.  Dale had a long term relationship with MTV Networks having been part of the launch team for that iconic channel.  So when The Nashville Network had to be relaunched  as the new home of the WWE (then the WWF), oh and it had to be done in three months, there was only one person to call.
My first meeting with Dale was over lunch at the Mercer Kitchen.  Fred had prepped me that Dale liked metrics and to be ready for a lot of questions.  But as anyone who’s met with Dale will tell you, you can never be fully prepared for the hurricane of creative energy that is Dale Pon.
I was prepared with my Venn diagram of the overlap between TNN’s current viewers and the WWE’s viewers (no surprise, not a big cross section). Then the questions started in what felt like a ping pong match at warp speed.  
Two hours into the lunch I had held my own and received the nod from Dale that I was on the right track. I was exhausted, relieved and thrilled to have passed the test. I learned that once you’ve basked in the glow of Dale’s approval, you were hooked.  I also learned that I had become a member of an exclusive club, “Dale’s World.”  My fellow club members all know the stories, share the memories and still live by what he taught us.
Dale always said “work smarter, not harder.”  That mantra has never failed me just as Dale never failed to be supportive, inquisitive and completely one of a kind!
Happy Birthday dear Dale!
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(From left): Dale Pon, Anne Grassi, Scott Webb at WNBC Radio, circa 1980.
Alan Goodman: “I’ll give you 50 bucks to fuck up this guy’s haircut.”
Two stories about Dale Pon –
1. I was in Paris with Dale (who ran our advertising agency – my mentor was now my supplier) and MTV’s VP of Programming, Les Garland. Dale and Les weren’t pals. How tense was it? We had dinner together one night in Paris and Les bought us all expensive Cuban cigars. Outside, Dale waited until Les split off to go to his hotel. The first second Les was out of sight, Dale pitched his cigar in the gutter.
We had flown on 10 hours notice so we could shoot Mick Jagger saying “I Want My MTV!” Dale had already shot a number of other MTV generation stars shouting the line, and some were even biggish. But Jagger was THE “get.” We knew that once Jagger blessed our campaign by participating, we’d get anyone else we would ever want. (We did).
We waited around the hotel a couple of days until we got the bat signal that Mick was ready, and raced over to his hotel to set up. Very quickly, what was supposed to be Dale’s shoot had become Les’ shoot. Dale was pissed, rigid with anger, sequestered with me in the adjoining room forced to watch the proceedings on a monitor. I went over to him to try to diffuse the situation. I can’t remember what I told him. But I remember his response, word for word:
“Do you think I need to hear any of this right now?”
I realized why I was in Paris. I was there, as the client, to witness who threw the first punch.
I had spent every single day of the past four months in the office trying to figure out how to do a job I had no idea how to do. I was exhausted. I had zero interest in the kind of politics and shenanigans that network executives pull, and I didn’t want to be there. That’s it, I decided. I’ve had enough. I’m a writer. I have a talent. I can make a living. I will get back home and I will immediately quit.
I said nothing. I smiled through the rest of the shoot. We stopped at a bistro after we wrapped, and had a lovely dinner and wine with the crew. It was a celebration. For good reason. We had Jagger. I stayed quiet. Silent, even. No one knew of my plans.
When we reached the hotel, Dale drew me aside and sat me down.
“You’re not going to quit,” he said. What?! Huh?! How did he know? On top of everything, the man can read minds??!
“You’re not going to quit. You are at the very beginning of something that will change the world, and you will have a great career. You have to stay there and be a part of that and do what you do really well. You cannot leave. Do you understand? You cannot quit.”
He went up to bed. I went home the next day, and didn’t quit. Instead, I stayed and helped make the thing that changed the world. And it was the beginning of a great career.
2. I went to get my hair cut at Astor Place one day. I walked up to my guy, and there in the chair was Dale. I didn’t know Dale used my guy. Dale looked up at me, looked at the barber, and told him, “I’ll give you 50 bucks to fuck up this guy’s haircut.”
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Scott Webb (unedited): “He didn’t just change my life he changed me.”
You never know how things are going to happen.
I was a few short months away from graduating from Sarah Lawrence College with no idea what I would do for a job. I was a kid who had grown up reading and loving comic books. After 4 years at one of the most expensive liberal arts schools I was clueless about a career. My secret wish remained to write comics (mostly because I had no talent to draw). Sarah Lawrence was a great place for me. It was there that I understood how to learn. I was naturally curious and SLC exposed me to a world of ideas and brilliant people (students and teachers). But Sarah Lawrence was not a place where I could start a career path. 5 months from graduating I felt the looming pressure of finding a job and making money. Unlike most of my class at SLC my parents were basically working class folks with a yankee work ethic who expected me to not move back home after graduation.  
One January evening, I was talking with my friend Betsy K who had just graduated. She had just returned home from job hunting in the city. She had an interview at WNBC radio with a guy named Buzz Brindle. She said they weren’t hiring but were looking for interns. “What’s an intern?” I asked. I was so naive. She explained that an internship is where you work for free - for experience and to get your foot in the door. WNBC was part of NBC - one of only 3 existing TV networks at the time and my eyes lit up at the idea of of doing anything with a big media company. So I lined up a meeting with Buzz to see if I was intern material.
Buzz was sweet and avuncular and I immediately fell in love with the energy of the radio station. I had to work there. “We’re looking for interns in the promotion department” Buzz explained and I just nodded as affirmatively as possible. “You’ll be working for Dale Pon. He’s very demanding. Do you think you can handle that?” Me? Of course! I’ve got my Yankee work ethic and my Sarah Lawrence education. I thought I was ready for anything. But I was not ready for Dale Pon.  
I interned at the station 2 days a week and It appeared I was the only male in Dale’s promotion team. I reported to a woman named Anne Grassi but Dale was the boss. Dale was bigger than life, louder than anyone else in the company and frequently slammed the door to his tiny office. I had never worked in an office before. I found him brilliant, charismatic and intimidating. The other interns and I would huddle in the conference room where we did our work and wait for our next assignment.
I did many things as an intern but my first big assignment for Dale was to create a chart of all the radio stations in New York and rank them by ratings performance over the past 2 years. This was no small task - this was way before computers in offices - and required me to go to the NBC research department to collect dozens of Arbitron ratings books and laboriously extract the data he wanted and lay it out graphically. I wanted to do a great job for him but the truth was that I was terrible at chart making.
I was a liberal arts comic book kid and he had me doing statistical analysis and I knew if I did a bad job I would probably face his famous wrath behind a slammed closed door. But despite my inept chart building, Dale painstakingly taught me how to read the Arbitron reports and methodically went through my work and instructed me how to correct it. I learned more from him over that 5 month internship than I had in my last 2 years of college. But my lesson wasn’t in statistical analysis or radio promotion. Dale had high expectations of me, he believed in me and he was demanding in the pursuit of excellence.
The chart was part of his battle plan to make WNBC #1 in the NYC market and when I understood the big picture of what he was doing I felt even more inspired and willing to do anything in the service of that cause.
A lot of people at the station didn’t like Dale mostly because he would raise his voice to make a point or because he was passionate about his beliefs, or would not hold back his opinion when something was mediocre, pedestrian or just plain stupid. Dale expected greatness in people, work and business. His mission was to win and often people found that difficult to embrace. I, on the other hand, found it awesome. I guess he reminded me of the comic book heroes I admired so much - characters who were extraordinary and could do things other people thought were impossible. Most people at the radio station were happy to have a job and get a paycheck and could care less about being #1 but for him that was all that mattered.  
It didn’t hurt that he was so smart and insightful. He had the uncanny super power of understand exactly wha the problem was - and he taught me that creativity was the ability to solve problems in fresh, innovative and smart ways. “Do you know why I hired you?” he asked me at the end of my internship. “I didn’t want to hire one of those kids who studied advertising or media in college. Those kids have been ruined. They show up thinking they already know everything - and they haven’t even had a job yet. You didn’t know anything but you were willing to learn and think. Most people don’t know how to think.”  Those were some of the most important words I ever heard. They lit a fire of confidence and trust in myself that did not exist before and served me throughout my life, not just in work but in life.
Dale Pon didn’t just change my life he changed me. He encouraged me to be brave and fearless and never stop solving problems. He is one of the smartest people I have ever met and the teacher I will never forget.
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Susan Kantor and David Hyman were on the opposite side of their relationships with him, Susan as a long time account executive in Dale’s agencies, and David as a client. Drew Takahashi, a trusted friend and wonderful creative partner.  
I’m particularly fond of the pull quote from David’s recollections. Having had hundreds of restaurant meals with DP over the years, waitress confusion was probably my overriding remembrance.
Susan Kantor has traveled to the upper heights of television since her time with Dale Pon in the 1980s. But when you read her memoir below he prepared her well, as he did with all of us.
Drew Takahashi is a director who co-founded (Colossal) Pictures, San Francisco, one of the most creative production companies of the 1980s and 90s, and one of the key creative suppliers to the first decades of MTV.
David Hyman became my head of marketing at the MTVi Group when the company purchased Sonicnet.com, one of David���s early digital music endeavors (he’s gone on as founder of MOG, one of the seminal digital music streamers).
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Susan Kantor: “Lead, don’t follow”. Love, Dale”
Hands down, Dale Pon was my most influential career mentor. Ridiculously smart, enormously passionate, admirably courageous and truthfully a little scary.
We would all brace ourselves for the moment the elevator doors opened and the sound of his fiercely determined walk in his trademarked cowboy boots could be heard. With the first, “good morning” would come a rapid fire interrogation of where we were at on all the “to do’s” he had just given us an hour ago. “Why isn’t it done yet?”
Leslie Fenn-Gershon and I used to joke about putting a Valium in his Perrier so we could get through the day.
When I got to the office in the morning there would often be a “note”, on my chair written with red Sharpie marker on yellow pad lined paper (pre-email), from Dale.  His handwriting, had as much conviction as his spoken word.  These encouraging notes were meant to guide, remind, teach, mentor or simply, to show his appreciation - often complimentary, occasionally piercing. I still have them.
“Lead, don’t follow”. Love, Dale
“Let’s make things happen!” Love Dale “
“There are children and there are parents. Be a parent.” Love, Dale “
“Everyone wants to be told what to do. Tell them.” Love, Dale “
“We had a good day today. Thank you for your help.” Love, Dale
As we chased rock stars around the globe helping MTV and VH1 revolutionize the music industry, and traversed across the county to position many TV and radio stations in their market, Dale always imparted the importance of what we were doing and demanded we do our very best, every day.
He recognized my innate work ethic, enthusiasm and willingness to do whatever it took to learn and succeed – he also knew how young and naïve I was.  Ripe for mentorship and direction. I got both, and then some. The Dale Pon “boot camp” was not always pretty, but it was always colorful, impactful, memorable and most importantly, meaningful.  
Not only did he teach me all about advertising and the importance of finding the unique selling proposition and saying it as simply as possible so people would remember it, he showed me the world and how not to be intimidated by it. He made me self-aware of my talents and my shortcomings. He also taught me there was no substitute for doing the work.
To this day, I love you Dale and I thank you for believing in me and giving me the chance of a lifetime.
Belated birthday wishes and hope to see you again soon!
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Drew Takahashi: “…he gleefully pushed me to do stuff I hated.“
After seeing you and the MTV crew took me back to good/bad old days. I realized I missed Dale Pon.
Back in the day I didn’t know he was a mentor. I only knew he gleefully pushed me to do stuff I hated. In the end I realized you and he knew what was better for me than what I knew. Someday I’ll learn my lesson.
Steve Linden and I went to shoot with Dale for WNBC [AM]. He asked us to meet him at Windows on the World bar for drinks and dinner. He showed up two hours later and Steve and I were suitably toasted. Then he insisted we join him in a very alcoholic dinner. I was so hungover the morning of the shoot I didn’t know how I could direct the talent, Don Imus. Dale apologized for needing to shoot something first so we didn’t roll my spot until the afternoon. Saved my ass.
Many more memories. The weirdest was him in the Colossal bathroom cleaning crabs of their guts for a surprise picnic in the middle of our animation camera shoot.
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David Hyman: “[He] always confused the waitresses.”
Here’s mine:
Dale came up with the name of my company, Gracenote.  I think that just came really easy to him.  
For a while he was a really great teacher to me. I stubbornly couldn’t take the occasional abuse that went with it, even though it was probably good for me. I was honored to be asked as the voice over for a $30 million tv ad campaign by Dale and encouraged to do voice over work. Thrilling to be informed I had career chops outside of sales & marketing.
Dale is the only person i know that would always order two margaritas for himself (at the same time). It always confused the waitresses.
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With Dale Pon @WHN Radio. 1977, New York City.
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It was against all odds, but my late 70s stint in country music radio hooked me up with a mentor who made the difference.
Before I got to New York’s 1050 WHN, I was aware of the station. Well aware. Sometime in 1976, my friend/future partner/father of my beloved nephew and niece, Alan Goodman, asked me whether I’d seen some giant subway posters (the top photo above). Of course, I’d noticed them, with large portraits of Johnny Cash, Elvis Presley, The Eagles, Charlie Pride, Loretta Lynn, Kenny Rogers, Olivia Newton-John, Linda Ronstadt and seemingly dozens of other traditional and contemporary stars of the era. There were so many, they seemed to be everywhere. And, they were gorgeous, well designed, in a sea of drop-dead-New York graffiti, hum drum posters, homeless campers and mess, standing out like nothing we’d ever seen down there before. Too bad it was for music we couldn’t stand.
After I got the job with the station’s creative director and ad man, Dale Pon (another story for another time), I found out a bit about the thinking at the station and the advertising campaign. How did a city that was the home of the most sophisticated popular music of all time –to the likes of Duke Ellington, George Gershwin, Irving Berlin, Frank Sinatra– welcome the shitkickers in and become the second most popular radio station in the United States (or the world, for that matter)?
Dale was the supremely gifted Vice President of Creative Services, and he introduced me to Ed Salamon, the station’s innovative program director (Neil Rockoff was the General Manager who brought them together), who used a Top 40 radio approach* to country radio, upending the entire (typical New Yorker’s) notion that country music hadn’t evolved since Hank Williams.
No ordinary radio promotion guy, Dale had been a media buyer at Ogilvy, a radio upstart (a mild description) when the world switched from AM to “progressive” FM, and run radio ad sales teams. In the 80s, he would go on to successfully run his own advertising agency, and together we started one of the most famous media campaigns of all time, “I Want My MTV!”).  
Dale Pon wasn’t going to promote the station as cowboy boots and hats, like the last team did. He wanted big ratings for WHN, big ratings. They all did.
* If you’re interested, Ed’s written a book that details his contrarian, and wildly successful, methods called WHN: When New York Went Country.  
WHN Radio illustrations from top to bottom, all creative direction by Dale Pon 1977: New York City subway station double truck posters (L-R) Olivia Newton-John (obscured), Linda Ronstadt, Elvis Presley; Olivia Newton-John; Kenny Rogers; Television/Radio Age cover ads; Linda Ronstadt double truck subway poster.
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I Want My MTV! Early 1980s, New York City.
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MTV had been on the air for six months and we’d fired the storied Ogilvy & Mather and hired Dale Pon’s LPG/Pon (a joint venture with George Lois) at my insistence. Now they were presenting their first trade campaign for advertisers and cable operators and my first big decision was being called into question. America is fast becoming a land of Cable Brats! “It’s audacious! Outrageous! Just like you guys.” George Lois was a big talker, a big seller, and a bit of a smart ass, loudmouth. He was also smart. Even though I knew he designed the “cable brats” thing, it was my brilliant mentor Dale, who’d never steered me wrong creatively or strategically, who was behind the whole thing. His ex-girlfriend, and now one of my best friends, Nancy Podbielniak, had written the copy. Besides, I agreed with Dale that generally trade advertising was a waste of time and bigger waste of money. Consumers were where it’s at, and weren’t all the tradesmen we were hopping to reach consumers too? If we had a knockout punch of consumer advertising our job would be done. I knew he was keeping his powder dry for the big show.
America is fast becoming a land of Cable Brats! There’s an incorrigible new generation out there. They grew up with music. They grew up with television.  So we put ‘em both together – for the Cable Brats, and they’re taking over America! They’re men and women in the 18 to 34 age range advertisers want most – plus the increasingly important 12 to 17 segement. The Cable Brats buy all the high volume, high ticket, high tech, high profit products of modern America. They’re strong-willed, cunning, crazily impulsive – an advertiser’s peerless audience. They look and listen and they want their MTV. And they buy, buy, buy. Rock'n'Roll wasn’t enough for them – now they want their MTV. (The exploding 24-hour Video Music Cable Network (and it’s Stereo!)
George was certainly right. It was audacious, and it was a touch outrageous. Somehow, the tone wasn’t quite right, but after the crap Ogilvy had done for us, it was way better. Besides, hidden in there was the sand grain that was going to lead us to our pearl.
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I Want My MTV! 1982, New York City.
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I WANT MY MTV! took the phenomenon that had taken over the imaginations of young America and supercharged it into a famous brand with just about everyone in the country. I just googled [in 2010]  “I Want My MTV” and it popped up almost 4,760,000 results. Pretty amazing for an advertising campaign that ceased to exist 22 years ago.* Pretty potent.   The whole thing was the work of my mentor and friend Dale Pon. He’d been my first boss in the commercial media, at WHN Radio in New York when it was a country music station. He’d recommended me for my job at Warner Amex Satellite Entertainment Company, as the production director of The Movie Channel, and eventually as the first Creative Director of MTV: Music Television. We’d fallen in and out over the years, but in late 1981, when it came time for us to hire an advertising agency again –at first, the top dog had vetoed Dale as not heavy enough for a company like ours– with a lot of help from my immediate boss Bob Pittman, I was able to convince everyone that Dale understood media promotion better than anyone else in America. Anyone. Besides, didn’t he have “insurance” with his partner, legendary adman George Lois?
Dale Pon (via MTV: The Making of a Revolution)
No one had ever encountered an ad executive like Dale, because he had the unique ability to be completely and analytically strategic –”math and magic” Pittman might call it– and be wildly, and intelligently, creative at the same time. An almost unheard of combination, especially in media advertising. Sure, he had a volatile nature, in advertising that was often a given (look at his partner). But it was his strategic, creative abilities that really set him apart.
We’d already done our first trade campaign, the “Cable Brats,“ to the discomfort of most of the suits in the corporate marketing group (Bob and his team, me included, were in programming). But Dale didn’t buy into the efficacy of trade ads anyhow, so now were onto the big show, television advertising. The only problem was that we all recognized that an effective campaign would cost about $10,000,000. Our budget only had $2,000,000, and if we didn’t spend it quickly the corporate gods would probably take it away in the fall.
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"I want my Maypo” commercials, created by John Hubley
Looking back, the core creative ended up being the most straightforward part. Dale’s closest friend and creative partner, Nancy Podbielniak had written the cable brats copy and had a tag line “Rock'n'roll wasn’t enough for them – now they want their MTV!” That rung a bell in George Lois, someone who never missed a chance to abscond with someone else’s good idea, and decided to rip off his own knock off of a Maypo campaign from the 1950s and 60s (animator John Hubley originated it as a set famous animated spots, and George had unsuccessfully knocked it off using sports stars) and presented a storyboard that completely duplicated his version. Rock stars like Mick Jagger were saying “I Want My MTV” and crying like babies, implying they were spoiled children being denied. No one was buying it until Dale let me know that there was no way he’d ask Pete Townshend or Mick to cry for us. “Pride! They need to show their pride in rock'n'roll! They’ll be shouting!” After a little corporate fuss we were able to sell it in.
AMERICA! DEMAND YOUR MTV!
Now, it was the next part that was completely and utterly brilliant. Because Dale came from the school that great creative was all well and good, but unless it could move the business needle, what good was it? In this case, the needle wasn’t ratings (cable TV didn’t have ratings in 1981), but active households, distribution for MTV. Cable operators were all relatively old guys who thought The Weather Channel was a better idea; they’d turned a deaf ear to their younger employees who were clamoring for us instead.
To dramatically simplify the strategy Dale organized, he decided to only advertise in markets where:
• There was enough penetration to justify a modest ad spend.
• But where there were critically large cable operators on the fence about taking MTV.
• And that we could afford a 300 gross rating point buy (three times heavier as any consumer products agency would suggest) for at least four weeks in a row (the traditional media spend would call for pulsing 10 days on and 10 days off).
The “G” in LPG/Pon was Dick Gershon. Along with data from our affiliate group, he crunched and crunched and crunched until he came up with a list of markets and dates we could afford. It was 20% of what we needed, but everyone figured if we could really start to knock off a bunch of cable systems, get them actually launch our network, the domino effect would solidify MTV’s hold on the market forever.
Strategy in place, the creative was back on the front burner. The basic campaign was a great way to get famous rock stars endorsing our channel, but where was the close? What would actually make the 'ka-ching’ we needed? Luckily, back in the day there was only one way to for a homeowner get anything from your reluctant jerk of a cable operator (they figure they held all the cards, why should they do anything to make life better for their consumers?). And what was it that young adults loved to do? Dale knew immediately.
No one alive in front of a television set in the summer of 1982 could ever forget
Pete Townshend, with the wackiest haircut of his career, shouting at the video camera:
“America! DEMAND your MTV! Call your cable operator and say, "I WANT MY MTV!!”
We shot the spots wherever the rock stars would have us for 20 minutes (they still weren’t really sure this MTV: Music Television thing was going to be good for them). Our director and producer, Tommy Schlamme and Buzz Potamkin, got together with some puppeteers to choreograph the 'dancing’ stereo television. I asked my partner to go into the studio to edit the music sections when they weren’t rocking enough, and –poof!– famous advertising.
Nothing to it, yes?
* For comparison, “I Want My Maypo” posts 112,000 results on Google. Or “Where’s the beef?”, another famous 1980’s campaign for Wendy’s returns 176,000 (or if you only use that phrase, which has been appropriated for all sorts of uses, you get 2,640,000).
.....
“Mee, mee, me, meeee!” MTV Networks Online, 1999/2000 New York City
vimeo
MTV got Sonicnet in the middle of another transaction they thought would be more important. But as the internet heated up in the business world’s consciousness, Sonicnet.com became something they thought to pay attention to. Which meant that, as president of MTV Networks Online, I was trying to help make the thing successful.
vimeo
MTV had also acquired a then-unique personalized radio application. Coupled with Sonicnet, we decided an ad campaign would supercharge the site, something large media folks like us thought was necessary. (It wasn’t.*)
Over a few objections, I hired my brilliant, challenging mentor Dale Pon to create our campaign. Dale had done our the iconic “I Want My MTV” for me in the early 1980s and constantly proved himself to be the most creative and effective media ad man in America. The stunningly talented and perfectly musical film director Tim Newman was already on our online staff (after turning his back on a career that included some of the greatest music videos of all time), so he was really the only person who we thought could direct the spots. Dale hustled our head of marketing, David Hyman, into his one and only –and perfect– voice acting job. (And, I should put in a word for the Sonicnet logo. Designed by AdamsMorioka, from a concept developed by Fred Graver.
vimeo
You can see for yourself that Dale knew how conceive big ideas to bring out the best from stars. With Tim in the director’s chair, the results were pretty stunning. And, to cap it, Dale really knew how to use MTVi’s clout to reach for the stars (like Isaac Hayes, James Brown, Joshua Bell, Jewel, Pat Metheny, Sheryl Crow, Beenie Man, Gang Starr, Faith Hill, Lindsey Buckingham, Don Henley, Al Jarreau, Alice Cooper, Blink 182, Kenny Wayne Shephard, Bon Jovi, Buck Cherry, Charlotte Church, Christina Acquilera, Dwight Yoakam, The Ruff Ryders, Eve, Johnny Resnick (The Goo Goo Dolls), kd lang, Buck Cherry, Kelis, Lindsey Buckingham, Melissa Etheridge, Moby, Seal, Sisqo, Static X, SheDaisy, Hillary Hahn, Charlotte Church, Yo Yo Ma, and Sting.)
This campaign, like every other one I’d worked on with Dale over the decades, was a hoot. One of the best things to come out of my one year in the early corporate internet. 
…..
* IMHO, one of the great mistakes media companies made during Web 1.0, was thinking that their traditional audience reach would give them huge advantage in building web destinations. They’d made the exact same mistake in the transition from broadcast to cable. It didn’t occur to them in either era that a basic misunderstanding of the newest medium –not knowing what the audience wanted from the upstarts– would not attract anyone to their websites.
And, by the by, the same mistake has been made from popular websites bungling the transition to mobile. And, so it goes.
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dear-wormwoods · 5 years
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Birthday Thoughts
So I turned 30 today, and I feel like I’ve been in panic mode about this since I turned 29. But to be honest, now that it’s here I’m, shockingly, actually happy about it. 29 felt like a crisis, but 30 feels good. I’ve left a lot of mistakes and negativity behind in my 20′s, so from where I’m standing, my 30′s seem like a really exciting, positive new stage of life, no longer something to dread.
I have spent a lot of time this past year lamenting about having done “nothing” in my 20’s, claiming that I wasted the last decade being depressed and attempting to make up for “lost time” by acting like a dumbass. It wasn’t until very recently that I began to actually reflect on what I have achieved and learned in my 20’s, rather than on what I didn’t.
To start, here are the things I didn’t do:
Find the love of my life and get married
Lose all the weight I want to lose
Travel around the country/world 
It’s worth noting that these goals are, along with the subsequent disappointment in not achieving them, firmly rooted in expectations I created for myself after comparing my own life to the lives that friends/peers/coworkers present on social media. I saw a handful of people who were skinny and fit, somehow able to afford travel and houses, and staying in relationships long enough to get married. Upon making these comparisons, I convinced myself I had failed at life. But the reality is, not only do I still have plenty of time to do those things, drawing comparisons has kept me from examining my own accomplishments.
So here are some things I HAVE achieved or learned in the last decade:
I've gotten two higher degrees, a BA and an M.Ed. I allowed myself to change paths while in school, and even now, I’m going back to school yet again for a second Master’s degree because it’s never too late to switch gears. Because of my self esteem issues, I’ve had a tendency to downplay how much of an achievement my education actually is, and how much time and energy I’ve invested in it. It’s a big effing deal and I’m proud, damn it!!
I’ve always been an independent person, and aside from a couple of years while in grad school, I’ve been paying my own way all this time. I live on my own, I pay for school, bills, rent, everything. While I know my parents can help me out when I’m really desperate, I know that I’ll never have to completely depend on another person to take care of me in my adult life, nor would I ever want that for myself.
I was lucky enough to actually have a career in my 20’s, to work in a place I enjoyed, with peers who taught me a lot, and students who helped me grow just as much as I helped them. Teaching may not have been the most perfect fit for me, but it was exactly what I needed to be doing at the time and it led me to what is hopefully my final career destination as a counselor. To have had the opportunity to build my resume, discover and hone professional skills, and realize what I really want to do in my life, all before turning 30, is a big deal. I put the work in, I need to be proud of it. 
I’ve raised two amazing cats up from tiny kittens to big boy 10-year-olds, and they are the most affectionate cats I could ever ask for. This is another accomplishment I take for granted!! Not everyone can earn the love of an animal, and I have, so I must have done something right. Both have had a life threatening health issue once in their lives, and both times I did everything necessary to fix it, from syringe feeding to paying thousands for surgery. Loving them and caring for them gave me purpose!
I’ve grown, changed, and learned a lot about myself through a series of disappointing relationships, as well as friends entering and exiting my life, some explosively and others via gradual drifting. I’ve realized what kind of love and support I need and - more importantly - deserve. I’ve learned that it’s okay to trim the fat and remove people from my life when needed. I’ve learned that people who stall my personal growth, or worse - cause me to actually regress - are not people I’m obligated to spend time with or talk to. I’ve learned it’s okay to put myself first, and the positive effect that lesson has had on my sense of self worth was shockingly immediate.
I’ve learned that setbacks, even major ones, aren’t the end of the world (although it still feels like it mid-panic attack). Even when the setback is my own fault it’s still not worth dwelling on, because the only thing to do about it is to move forward and treat it as a lesson. This year in particular has been a lesson in the futility of dwelling on things, as my mental health spiraled downward and resulted in having to leave my job. Once I stopped treating that as a failure and accepted it for what it was, a temporary setback, a weight lifted and I was able to move forward again.
As much as I belittle myself for not already winning the battle with my weight, it’s not like I haven’t made significant progress either. I began my 20’s as a restrictive eater and later on became a binge eater. I’ve spent the last couple of years moving away from that (with the help of medication), and while I can’t say I have the healthiest diet ever, I can say that I no longer restrict or binge, and I’m no longer consumed by thoughts of food and calories the way I once was. It’s a huge step that I need to stop taking lightly just because the results aren’t immediate or visible.
Throughout my 20’s, especially in the last couple of years, I have developed more positive relationships with my extended family and learned to look beyond differences that caused me to ‘other’ myself in my youth. I witnessed my grandfather’s death in the hospital, which was a spiritually meaningful moment. In the aftermath, I’ve grown closer to my grandmother, aunts, and even my dad. I’ve learned to better appreciate the time I spend with everyone in my family. Nothing is permanent.
Over the last few months I’ve come SO far with my mental health, the way I see myself, and the way I interact with the world. I’ve really been laying the groundwork to enter my 30′s on a high note. I’m far from perfect, and I still need to find a new job, but things are really great. I’m loving my new grad program and quickly making friends with the other people in my classes. I finally got the guts to start going to OrangeTheory and I’m obsessed with that gym let me tell you. I Marie-Kondo’d my apartment and got rid of everything I had to in order to feel refreshed. I have a therapist who truly helps me. I’m dealing with my finances and looking for jobs instead of avoiding the issue. I’ve been dating new people, hanging out with my friends and family a lot more than I had been, reading for fun, smiling more, and just feeling GOOD about my life. 
I spent so much time in the last couple of years being so miserable, to the point where I totally lost control of my life and rarely even got out of bed, so it feels good to enter the next phase being able to breathe again. 
ANYWAY I didn’t expect anyone to read this but thank you if you did. It’s just a significant day in the midst of a really transformative year for me, so, yeah, happy birthday to me. 
PS: One of my new grad school friends is going to do a Tarot reading for me tonight so like, if I come back later and say “I TAKE IT ALL BACK THIS YEAR’S GONNA SUCK BALLS!!!” that’s why (but I’m expecting good things).
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baehkhun · 5 years
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Cosplay Models
Need to buy X-Males t-shirts online? Whether you will have a love for The Avengers, Incredible Four, Thor, or X-Males there are a lot or t-shirts and different merchandise to personal. My childhood included a love for 60s and 70s Marvel and DC comics, and my capacity to draw originates partly from studying the stories I read in these days. We worked for a year collectively on the piece to plan and draw it. Toy corporations like Hasbro and Kenner used to supply thousands of Batman motion figure than is launched yearly with some variation in it. Transformers 2, the science-fiction movie is the latest sensation, and is essentially the most awaited film of the year. Let's take the movie Avatar for instance. From time to time I went back to the sport to take a couple of extra screenshots to extend a plot. Within a few minutes, I started making comedian strips. Not like his different comic strips, in Battling Boy, the hero is a kid, who's on a mission to save the town.
In reality, the opposite series of battling boy turned fashionable. To conclude on this matter, I think it's an important thought to give our kids the funny comics created approach-again-when, comics from your and my childhood. To read a narrative in adventurous manner is quite exciting for all the kids. You've to beat the limitations of speech bubbles and the issue of telling a narrative body by frame. Admit it you have! I’m sure you've heard this standard online store. Since Youngsters's Graphic Novels are really simply an old thought with a fancy new title, why shouldn't you discover taking old profitable comicbook concepts and reinventing them for a new era? The concept was to convey the same which means with phrases that I steered by means of colors, textures and pictures. Popular Online Comics solidify a that means of a word because footage help which means to words. The nomination was a serious achievement for an artist who had - fairly literally -started out small, drawing Post-it note sized comics and hiding them in different people’s work in bookshops. The first comedian strips appeared in Germany in 1865. It was about two boys who're getting punished for at all times entering into mischief.
Furthermore, if we're trustworthy with ourselves, we all know that a number of mischief is downright funny. Why are outdated coins price greater than at this time's coins? Full collections will fetch too much more than random particular person comics. Our goal is to present our readers an excellent piece of entertaining and educational comics on which is able to grow up not one of the longer term generations. These blockbuster films plays an important role within the comeback of comics. Individuals who want to cherish their childhood recollections with the comics; they can easily find cheap comics to start their comic collection. In this present day of "I would like the newest and latest," we really find that some of the actual treasures are things of previous. Comedian books are detailed tales. Apart from conventions, yard gross sales and used ebook stores can also be extraordinarily cost effective sources for collectible comic books. A comic e-book adaption in addition to a novel publication is being carried out for the movie's promotion. That assumption is unsuitable and is an insult to the whole comedian book neighborhood.
These comedian guides provide you with the kind of knowledge you want like where to get the uncommon and helpful comics and the place you will get first situation comics as effectively as the again subject ones as nicely. By promoting and buying and selling comics you will be there were the art work is most enjoyed and valued. Moreover, that is where you get the meet fellow fans and catch up on the newest within the comedian books world; information that may prove invaluable. Some comic books editions are collector's items and if preserved in mint quality situation. Books are limited because the reader cannot physically see what the author envisions. Are those behaviors to be condoned? Eyes develop into circles or dots, mouths are lowered to curved strains, and noses or feet are triangles. Get the most recent news. Those who already consider large abilities of our web site, confess that it is admittedly the most convenient and simple approach to be in contact with the latest innovations of the world of comics.
Properly aware of the advantages that come from reading comics. Which Marvel comics do you have to learn before (or after) Captain Marvel? Repetition. Go back to your DC Titans every day newspaper and look at the comics’ web page. The cartoonist is utilizing repetition to identify the character. Due to this fact, we could say that it has nothing to do with a altering trends, whatever is new and trendy, photo to pop artwork print stays within the midst of its identified usability in subject of artwork. I seemed, and there before me was a pale horse! There actually is one thing for everybody. Cosplay additionally means costume play and the fans often come to the comedian conventions dressed in costumes. Eight delectable Expansions that adopted added to the joy of the sport play. Then by all means, use it. Through the use of these exaggerations, it doesn’t matter what different particulars I include. The possessed doll first hit the screens within the 1988 horror basic 'Child's Play'. Corey Haim, the lead of the original horror film, and Corey Feldman, the two Coreys, reprise their original roles. However, in 2003 Hasbro would relinquish control to Batman's rights to Mattel. You also get preferential remedy in some cases and entry to special occasions and performances.
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Best Walking Dead Collectible Action Figures and Graphic Novels The Amazing Spider-Man hasn't been considered one of the most popular super heroes. I tend to be of your Batman and Wolverine sort of guy myself. However, I can't sell Spidey short when talking about his history successful summer blockbusters. He's been in some hits which are considered to be thousands of comic movies ever. The next work for balance box office glory from Spider-Man is reboot and yes it stars a new cast which has a somewhat familiar story. Only time will tell how whether or not this can live up to past glory of their predecessors.
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First some definitions, specifically just what comic, a graphic novel, along with a Manga. A comic can be a format to provide a medium, within our case a tale. A graphic novel is only a longer comic. However, parents often get concerned once they hear graphic novel, mistakenly thinking it's got something to do with graphic such as inappropriate adult material. Graphic in our case merely means art. Graphic novels are certainly not a genre boost the local tissue. There are graphic fiction, graphic nonfiction, graphic mysteries, you get the idea. Finally, Manga is a Japanese term for their comic medium which enable it to be quite fun for kids since it reads from right to left. Kids often love this given that they can easily conform to the format but their parents generally battle to read them. Loki, he in the golden horns who had earlier made life difficult for Thor inside movie Thor, runs a pact having an unknown race, an alien race, may help him extract his revenge, if he opens a portal for them to attack Earth. Loki does what he could be told, and steals the Tessaracat (a McGruber if there ever was one), and opens a portal for your other world to fight Earth. Loki steals the Tessaract, requires a band of scientists and Hawkeye under his command, and opens a portal that literally brings the aliens onto Earth.
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But as companies use digital comics to reach new potential markets, will the entire process of comic writing and drawing should evolve at the same time? Until now, the phrase "digital comic" has often been employed to describe a print product scanned right into a computer. Even webcomics, which are released digitally, in many cases are designed specifically to be gathered into print editions; in fact, this is often the goal of webcomic creators, since the digital versions are free. But a lot more creators are coming up with truly digital comics, involving screen technology to see stories in a manner that print cannot. Will this customize the convention of writing monthly comic scripts with twenty-two pages of content? Or will storytelling chapters be broken into shorter or longer sections, with corresponding changes in release schedules? And will these creators still try to collect their stories into print versions, knowing some of the storytelling itself is going to be lost from the conversion to print? Stay tuned, the subsequent couple years should provide some interesting new answers.
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Owning and paying attention to a radio or perhaps a radiogram would be a wonderful experience, particularly when it turned out capable to grab stations from around the globe. The fact that they crackled and were packed with a number of interfering noises simply didn't matter at all. Of course, there were no such thing as television with an alternative source of information.
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Who knew (pt. 3)
We've come pretty far since the early days of December when I could barely stand being in the room with him. The month practically flew by, while I was getting accustomed to the new job and new people around me. I became less grumpy, and started making friends. I tried to ignore the feeling that I was throwing my whole education away by not staying in the film business. But I had to make do with what was left. And the movie deal was not officially off the table, we were on a sort of a stand-by. So I decided to hold out for a while, see where the road would take me.
On Christmas Eve, I volunteered to work the night shift. Christmas wasn’t as celebrated over here as it was in my home country, but I still thought it would be too lonely to spend it alone. So I took on all the work that I could, while still trying to bring the Christmas spirit into the studio with some decorations and Christmas music.
‘Hey, who’s gonna do the Christmas Wish special?’ I asked the man who a couple of weeks ago tried to take the delivery food that wasn’t really his. He turned out to be a pretty nice guy, and we became closer.
‘Wait and see,’ he said, a sly smile playing on his lips. I didn’t have a good feeling about this.
A minute later, the door opened. ‘Heeeey, guys, merry Christmas.’ It was him. Johnny. Of course it was. Who else. He was the personification of Christmas spirit, dressed in ugly reindeer sweater, wearing a Santa’s hat, humming the typical Christmas carols. ‘Are you ready for the best Christmas Eve special of your lives?’
God, he was cheerful. Must be nice to have all your friends and family waiting for you when you get home. ‘Yeah, yeah, let’s just do it,’ I said, trying to show my annoyance, when in reality, his mood was quite contagious. And the wine certainly helped at that.
When the work was done, late into the night, we all sat at the table, eating and drinking. Then, one by one, they all started going home. ‘You’re staying?’ asked the fried chicken stealer. I nodded, putting on a happy face. ‘Yep, this wine isn’t gonna finish itself.’ I raised my glass, wished him a merry Christmas, and watched him as he walked out. I was all alone. I downed the wine, and took the bottle to pour myself another glass, but it was empty. ‘Oh, c’mon, not you, too,’ I whined, already tipsy.
‘I can help you with that.’ I winced at that line, not realizing there was someone else in the room. It was my nemesis.
‘Why are you still here?’ I asked, very impolitely, but still managing to stretch out my arm so he could pour me more wine. I even had to motion him to pour some more. Stingy bastard.
‘I think that will be enough for now,’ he said firmly, putting the bottle at the other end of the table where I couldn’t reach it. Damn it, he must know how lazy I am. He then sat down, observing me.
‘What?’ I barked, uneasy under his careful scanning.
‘Why do you hate me so much?’
The question made me choke on my wine, so it took me a minute or two to pull myself together. It also gave me time to figure out the right answer. I felt slightly embarrassed. I didn’t know I came off that strong. Partly, it was my personality to be rough around the edges, partly, it was the insecurities gnawing at my pride. ‘I-I don’t hate you.’ Great, stuttering is the way to go. Bravo. I cleared my throat, continuing. ‘It’s just that um … I don’t know. I’m sorry.’ My eyes were everywhere but on him. I somehow couldn’t even look at him. I was sure he was going to grill me some more, enjoying my discomfort. Surprisingly, he smiled and nodded. ‘Fair enough.’ He sort of reminded me of a puppy. I didn’t notice it before.
From that moment on, we started to grow closer. We talked practically all night long, until the sunrise reminded us we should probably head home. He told me most of his friends went home, and he was the only one left at the dorm. His parents lived too far away to visit them. He was as lost as me, yet he was handling it much better. He was kind, smart, sassy, and entertaining as hell. He was even an aspiring signer, rapper, and dancer, and I had no idea. There was so much I never bothered to find out on my own before. And I could finally tell the difference between sincere questions and mockery. Apparently, mocking me was never his intention.
‘You’re too pretty to be mocked,’ he said, winking.
‘See?! It’s all those winks and smiles and the tone of your voice. Shady lines, mate, very shady.’
He sighed, mumbling something under his breath.
‘What’s that now?’
He replied by shaking his hand, and then changed the subject. When we went home later on, he even rode in taxi with me to make sure I got to my apartment safely, and then walked from there. For the first time, the grey block of flats felt a little bit more like home.
**
One of his passions is photography. I actually realized that on my own. Whenever we got together, he had a different camera with him. And he was always shoving it in my face, knowing damn well I hated taking photos. But he loves teasing me, so my protests were always in vain. He also took a lot of pictures of passers-by and seemingly insignificant moments of everyday life.
‘One day we will realize those moments were important,’ he announced solemnly.
I rolled my eyes at the cheesiness. ‘What cereal box did you get this one from?’
Nonetheless, his cheesy line proved to be very accurate in the future, when we celebrated my birthday at his friend’s café. It was just the two of us, as he asked his friend to let us in after closing time, so we could have some peace and quiet. Apparently, many people already knew about him and upcoming his group, so he didn’t want to draw much attention to himself. I preferred it like that, anyway. Just the two of us, some music and cake and wine. When I blew out the candle and made a wish, he handed me a shabby-looking notebook. ‘Happy birthday,’ he shouted, looking at me expectantly. I smiled, but inside I was wondering why the hell he was giving me a used notebook.
When I looked closely, I could see it was actually quite beautiful. It was more antique, than shabby. It seemed like an old diary, covered in leather. The paper was aged, but it was still well-kept. Inside, there were pictures. Many pictures. Me frowning at him, lifting my hand towards the shutter. Me, falling asleep at work, with my head in the papers. Me, watching a movie, straining my face so he wouldn’t notice I’m on the verge of tears (he never cries). Me, laughing like a maniac (probably at one of his stupid jokes, I love those). Me, looking straight into the camera with loving eyes. Then, there was us. Eating ramen. Lying on the grass. Cooking. Cuddling. Making ugly faces.
There was nothing written on any of the pages. One of his favourite cheesy lines is also ‘a picture is worth a thousand words’. He was right. Again. I didn’t need long love letters. I didn’t need any fake confessions. That old leather album was all I could ever wish for.
This time, I couldn’t stop the tear falling. I bowed my head, and tried to dab it away with my sleeve. Unfortunately, my middle name was not slick, and he of course noticed. He first kissed me on the wet trail that the single tear left behind. Then he planted another kiss to the corner of my lips. Then, he gently placed his fingers on my jaw, and turned my head towards himself. ‘Happy birthday,’ he whispered before placing his full lips on mine. They were so plump and soft, and I could never get tired of it. I turned my whole body to him, and while our lips were still locked together, my hand automatically flew to his hair. I loved playing with it, stroking it, running my fingers through it, tugging at it. He pulled me even closer, until I was almost sitting on his lap. I could tell he was getting excited, and I wasn’t falling much behind. I was hugging him, so his torso was almost glued to mine, and his hands were making their way up and down my back, occasionally passing the bottom. The temperature in the room was rising to a dangerous level, and at some point, his lips began brushing against my neck, which was driving me crazy. I held his jacket at the top of the sleeve, slowly gliding it down his arm.
Then, his phone rang. It was almost as if somebody had suddenly stopped a spinning vinyl. We both needed a few second to realize where we were and what was going on. I climbed off of him so he could answer. It was his friend, reminding him to clean up the place before we leave.
Thanks, pal.
After he hung up, we looked at each other a bit awkwardly, then decided it would be best if we cleaned up, and went home. So that’s what we did. On the way home, I couldn’t really focus on our conversation, or anything else for that matter. My body kept reacting to the recollection of our little performance. Should I just drag him into my flat or should we give it more time? Does it matter?
But, what if it’s bad and all the illusion will be gone and everything will be ruined?
What if he doesn’t like me? Like, all of me.
What if we’re all awkward or incompatible?
I had to hit myself on the head to beat out the stupid questions that kept popping up in my mind. Urgh, overthinking. But that only showed how much I cared about what we had. I mean, we came pretty far, given the rough beginnings. Who knew.
Now, we’re at my door, hands to ourselves, eyes wandering up and down the hallway as if it’s the most fascinating hallway we’ve ever seen.
‘Well, we’re here,’ he says in a tense voice. I can tell he was also unsure of what to do next.
Finally, I look at him. He looks back. For a few moments, we’re staring at each other in silence.
Until I’ve had enough.
‘Wanna come in?’
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Paint by Numbers: Using Data to Produce Great Content
Paint by Numbers: Using Data to Produce Great Content
Posted by rjonesx.
It's not every day that I write about content. To be honest, it's probably a once-a-year kind of thing. I will readily admit that I'm a "links are king" kind of SEO, and have been since starting in this industry more than a decade ago. However, I do look over the fence from time to time to see if the grass is greener and, on occasion, I actually like what I see. Prior to joining Moz, I was a consultant at an agency like many of you reading this blog post. More often than not, one of the key concerns of my clients was what to write about. It seems that webmasters and business owners alike can easily acquire writer's block after trudging through the uninspiring task of turning a list of keywords into website copy. So where do you look when you have run out of words
Numbers.
Alright, stick with me here. I imagine for some of you the idea of poring over numbers to remedy writer's block would be like trying to stop a headache with a brick. It's adding insult to injury. What I hope to show you in the next couple of paragraphs is how data can be an incredible source of inspiration in writing, especially if you can hit a few key principles: expose, relate, surprise, and share.
Expose
Chances are your business or website generates some amount of unique, first party data that you can expose to the world. It might be from analytics, your rank tracker like Moz, or from raw user data if you operate a forum. I'll give you examples of how you might tap into these resources (especially when they don't seem obvious or plenteous) but let's start with a canonical example of one great use of first-party data in an industry that seems directly at odds with — dating.
The thought of quantifying and analyzing our love lives seems like an oxymoron of sorts. However, one of the most successful uses of data for content has been produced by the team at OK Cupid, whose "data"-tagged blog posts have earned thousands of solid backlinks and enviable traffic. The team at OK Cupid accomplishes this by tapping their huge resource for unique data, generated by their user base. Let's look at one quick example: Congrats Graduates: No One Gives a Sh*t.
The blog post is fairly straightforward (and not particularly long) but it used unique data that isn't really available to the average person. Because OK Cupid is in a privileged position, they can provide this kind of insight to their audience at large.
But maybe you don't have a million customers with profiles on your site; where can you look for first party data? Well, here are a couple of ideas of the types of data your company or organization might have which can easily be turned into interesting content:
Google Analytics, Search Console data and Adwords data: Do you see trends around holidays that are interesting? Perhaps you notice that more people search for certain keywords at certain times. This could be even more interesting if there's a local holiday (like a festival or event) that makes your data unique from the rest of the country.
Sales data: When do your sales go up or down? Do they coincide with events? Or do they happen to coincide with completely different types of keywords? Try using Google Correlate, which will identify keywords that follow the same patterns as your data.
Survey data: Use your sales or lead history to run surveys and generate insightful content.
A clothing store could compare responses to questions about personality by the colors of clothing that people purchase (Potential headline: Is It True What They Say About Red?)
A car parts store could compare the size of certain accessories to favorite sports (Potential headline: Big Trucks and Big Hits)
An insurance provider could compare the type of insurance requested vs. the level of education (Potential headline: What Smart People Do Differently with Insurance)
There are probably tons more sources of unique, first-party data that you or your business have generated over the years which can be turned into great content. If you dig through the data long enough, you'll hit pay dirt.
Relate
Data is foreign. It's a language almost no one speaks in their day-to-day conversations, a notation meant for machines. This consideration requires that we make data immediately relatable to our readers. We shouldn't just ask "What does the data say?", but instead "What does the data say to me?" How we make data relatable is simple — organize your data by how people identify themselves. This can be geographic, economic, biological, social, or cultural distinctions with which we regularly categorize ourselves.
Many of the best examples of this kind of strategy involve geography (perhaps because everyone lives somewhere, and it's pretty non-controversial to make generic claims about one location or another). Take a look at a map of your country and try not to look first towards where you live. I'm a North Carolinian, and I almost immediately find myself interested in anything that compares my state to others.
So maybe you aren't OK Cupid with millions of users and you can't find unique data to share — don't worry, there's still hope. The example below is a rather ingenious method of using Google Adwords data to build a geographical story that's relatable to any potential customer in the United States. The webmasters at Opulent used state-level Keyword Planner to visualize popularity across the country in a piece they call the "State of Style."
When I found this on Reddit's DataIsBeautiful (where most of these examples come from), I immediately checked to see what performed best in North Carolina. I honestly couldn't care less about popular fashion or jewelry brands, but my interest in North Carolina eclipsed that lack of interest. Geography-based data visualization has produced successful content related to in sports, politics, beer, and even knitting.
If you walk away with any practical ideas from this post, I think this example has got to be it. Fire up an Adwords campaign and find out how consumer demand breaks down in your industry at a state-by-state level. Are you a marketer and want to attract clients in a particular sector? Here's your chance to write a whitepaper on national demand. If you're a local business, you can target Google Keyword Planner to your city and compare it to other cities around the country.
Surprise
Perhaps the greatest opportunity with data-focused content is the chance to truly surprise your reader. There's something exciting about learning an interesting fact (who hasn't seen one of these lying around and didn't pick it up?). So, how do you make your data "pop?" How do you make numbers fascinating?
Perspective.
Let's start with a simple statistic:
The cost of ending polio between 2013 and 2018 is $5.5 Billion Dollars.
How does that number feel to you? Does it feel big or little? Is it interesting on its own? Probably not, let's try and spice it up a bit.
$5.5 billion dollars doesn't seem that much when you realize people spend that amount on iPhones every 2 weeks. We could rid the world of polio for that much! Or, what if we present it like this...
In this light, it seems almost insane to spend that much money preventing just a couple more polio cases relative to the huge gains we could make on malaria. Of course, the statistics don't tell the full story. Polio is in the end-stages of eradication where the cost-per-case is much higher, and as malaria is attacked, it too will see cost-per-case increase. But the point remains the same: by giving the polio numbers some sort of context, some sort of forced perspective, we make the data far more intriguing and appealing.
So how would this work with content for your own site? Let's look at an example from BestPlay.co, which wrote a piece on Board Games are Getting Worse. Board games aren't a data-centric industry, but that doesn't keep them from producing awesome content with data. Here's a generic graph they provide in the piece which shows off average board game ratings.
There really isn't much to see here. There's nothing intrinsically shocking about the data as we look at it. So how do they add perspective to make their point and give the user intrigue? Simple — apply a historical perspective.
With this historical perspective, we can see board game scores getting better and better up until 2012, when they began to take a dive — the first multi-year dive in their recorded history. To draw users in, you use comparison to provide surprising perspectives.
Share
This final method is the one that I think is most overlooked. Once you've created your fancy piece of content, let your audience do some leg work for you by releasing the data set. There's an entire community of the Internet just looking for great data sets which could take advantage of your data and cite your content in their own publications. You can find everything from All of Donald Trump's Tweets to Everything Lost at TSA to Hand-drawn Pictures of Pineapples. While there is a good chance your data set won't ever be used, it can pick up a couple of extra links in the event that it does.
Putting it all together
What happens when a webmaster combines these types of methods — exposing unique data, making it relatable and surprising, even for a topic that seems averse to data? You get something like this: Jeans vs. Leggings.
This piece played the geography card for relatability:
They compared user interest in jeans to give perspective to the growth of demand for leggings:
Slice.com reveals their first-party data to make interesting, data-driven content that ultimately scores them links from sites like In Style Magazine, Shape.com, and the NY Post. Looking at fashion through the lens of data meant great traffic and great shares.
How do I get started?
Get down and dirty with the data. Don't wait until you end up with a nice report in your hand, but start slicing and dicing things looking for interesting patterns or results. You can start with the data you already have: Google Analytics, Google Search Console, Google Adwords, and, if you're a Moz customer, even your rank tracking data or keyword research data. If none of these avenues work, dig through the amazing data resources found on Reddit or WebHose. Look for a story in the numbers by relating the data to your audience and making comparisons to provide perspective. It isn't a foolproof formula, but it is pretty close. The right slice of data will cut straight through writer's block.
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Paint by Numbers: Using Data to Produce Great Content
Posted by  rjonesx.   It’s not every day that I write about content. To be honest, it’s probably a once-a-year kind of thing. I will readily admit that I’m a “links are king” kind of SEO, and have been since starting in this industry more than a decade ago. However, I do look over the fence from time to time to see if the grass is greener and, on occasion, I actually like what I see. Prior to joining Moz, I was a consultant at an agency like many of you reading this blog post. More often than not, one of the key concerns of my clients was what to write about. It seems that webmasters and business owners alike can easily acquire writer’s block after trudging through the uninspiring task of turning a list of keywords into website copy. So where do you look when you have run out of words
  Numbers.
  Alright, stick with me here. I imagine for some of you the idea of poring over numbers to remedy writer’s block would be like trying to stop a headache with a brick. It’s adding insult to injury. What I hope to show you in the next couple of paragraphs is how data can be an incredible source of inspiration in writing, especially if you can hit a few key principles: expose, relate, surprise, and share.
  Expose  Chances are your business or website generates some amount of unique, first party data that you can expose to the world. It might be from analytics, your rank tracker like Moz, or from raw user data if you operate a forum. I’ll give you examples of how you might tap into these resources (especially when they don’t seem obvious or plenteous) but let’s start with a canonical example of one great use of first-party data in an industry that seems directly at odds with — dating.
  The thought of quantifying and analyzing our love lives seems like an oxymoron of sorts. However, one of the most successful uses of data for content has been produced by the team at OK Cupid, whose  “data”-tagged blog posts  have earned thousands of solid backlinks and enviable traffic. The team at  OK Cupid  accomplishes this by tapping their huge resource for unique data, generated by their user base. Let’s look at one quick example:  Congrats Graduates: No One Gives a Sh*t .
     The blog post is fairly straightforward (and not particularly long) but it used  unique  data that isn’t really available to the average person. Because OK Cupid is in a privileged position, they can provide this kind of insight to their audience at large.
  But maybe you don’t have a million customers with profiles on your site; where can you look for first party data? Well, here are a couple of ideas of the types of data your company or organization might have which can easily be turned into interesting content:
     Google Analytics, Search Console data and Adwords data:  Do you see trends around holidays that are interesting? Perhaps you notice that more people search for certain keywords at certain times. This could be even more interesting if there’s a local holiday (like a festival or event) that makes your data unique from the rest of the country. 
  Sales data:  When do your sales go up or down? Do they coincide with events? Or do they happen to coincide with completely different types of keywords? Try using  Google Correlate , which will identify keywords that follow the same patterns as your data.  
  Survey data:  Use your sales or lead history to run surveys and generate insightful content.
   A clothing store could compare responses to questions about personality by the colors of clothing that people purchase (Potential headline: Is It True What They Say About Red?) 
 A car parts store could compare the size of certain accessories to favorite sports (Potential headline: Big Trucks and Big Hits) 
 An insurance provider could compare the type of insurance requested vs. the level of education (Potential headline: What Smart People Do Differently with Insurance) 
    There are probably tons more sources of unique, first-party data that you or your business have generated over the years which can be turned into great content. If you dig through the data long enough, you’ll hit pay dirt.
  Relate  Data is foreign. It’s a language almost no one speaks in their day-to-day conversations, a notation meant for machines. This consideration requires that we make data immediately relatable to our readers. We shouldn’t just ask “What does the data say?”, but instead “What does the data say to me?” How we make data relatable is simple — organize your data by how people identify themselves. This can be geographic, economic, biological, social, or cultural distinctions with which we regularly categorize ourselves.
  Many of the best examples of this kind of strategy involve geography (perhaps because everyone lives somewhere, and it’s pretty non-controversial to make generic claims about one location or another). Take a look at a map of your country and try not to look first towards where you live. I’m a North Carolinian, and I almost immediately find myself interested in anything that compares my state to others.
  So maybe you aren’t OK Cupid with millions of users and you can’t find unique data to share — don’t worry, there’s still hope. The example below is a rather ingenious method of using  Google Adwords  data to build a geographical story that’s relatable to any potential customer in the United States. The webmasters at  Opulent  used state-level Keyword Planner to visualize popularity across the country in a piece they call the “ State of Style. “   
  When I found this on Reddit’s  DataIsBeautiful  (where most of these examples come from), I immediately checked to see what performed best in North Carolina. I honestly couldn’t care less about popular fashion or jewelry brands, but my interest in North Carolina eclipsed that lack of interest. Geography-based data visualization has produced successful content related to in  sports ,  politics ,  beer , and even  knitting .
  If you walk away with any practical ideas from this post, I think this example has got to be it. Fire up an Adwords campaign and find out how consumer demand breaks down in your industry at a state-by-state level. Are you a marketer and want to attract clients in a particular sector? Here’s your chance to write a whitepaper on national demand. If you’re a local business, you can target Google Keyword Planner to your city and compare it to other cities around the country.
  Surprise  Perhaps the greatest opportunity with data-focused content is the chance to truly surprise your reader. There’s something exciting about learning an interesting fact ( who hasn’t seen one of these lying around and didn’t pick it up? ). So, how do you make your data “pop?” How do you make numbers fascinating?   Perspective.
  Let’s start with a simple statistic:
  The cost of ending polio between 2013 and 2018 is
  $5.5 Billion Dollars .
  How does that number feel to you? Does it feel big or little? Is it interesting on its own? Probably not, let’s try and spice it up a bit.
     $5.5 billion dollars doesn’t seem that much when you realize people spend that amount on iPhones every 2 weeks. We could rid the world of polio for that much! Or, what if we present it like this...
     In this light, it seems almost insane to spend that much money preventing just a couple more polio cases relative to the huge gains we could make on malaria. Of course, the statistics don’t tell the full story. Polio is in the end-stages of eradication where the cost-per-case is much higher, and as malaria is attacked, it too will see cost-per-case increase. But the point remains the same: by giving the polio numbers some sort of context, some sort of forced perspective, we make the data far more intriguing and appealing.
  So how would this work with content for your own site? Let’s look at an example from  BestPlay.co , which wrote a piece on  Board Games are Getting Worse . Board games aren’t a data-centric industry, but that doesn’t keep them from producing awesome content with data. Here’s a generic graph they provide in the piece which shows off average board game ratings.
     There really isn’t much to see here. There’s nothing intrinsically shocking about the data as we look at it. So how do they add perspective to make their point and give the user intrigue? Simple — apply a historical perspective.
     With this historical perspective, we can see board game scores getting better and better up until 2012, when they began to take a dive — the first multi-year dive in their recorded history. To draw users in, you use comparison to provide surprising perspectives.
  Share  This final method is the one that I think is most overlooked. Once you’ve created your fancy piece of content, let your audience do some leg work for you by releasing the data set. There’s an entire community of the Internet  just looking for great data sets  which could take advantage of your data and cite your content in their own publications. You can find everything from  All of Donald Trump’s Tweets  to  Everything Lost at TSA  to  Hand-drawn Pictures of Pineapples . While there is a good chance your data set won’t ever be used, it can pick up a couple of extra links in the event that it does.
  Putting it all together  What happens when a webmaster combines these types of methods — exposing unique data, making it relatable and surprising, even for a topic that seems averse to data? You get something like this:  Jeans vs. Leggings. 
  This piece played the geography card for relatability:
     They compared user interest in jeans to give perspective to the growth of demand for leggings:
      Slice.com  reveals their first-party data to make interesting, data-driven content that ultimately scores them links from sites like In Style Magazine, Shape.com, and the NY Post. Looking at fashion through the lens of data meant great traffic and great shares.
  How do I get started?  Get down and dirty with the data. Don’t wait until you end up with a nice report in your hand, but start slicing and dicing things looking for interesting patterns or results. You can start with the data you already have:  Google Analytics ,  Google Search Console ,  Google Adwords , and, if you’re a Moz customer, even your  rank tracking data  or  keyword research data . If none of these avenues work, dig through the amazing data resources found on  Reddit  or  WebHose . Look for a story in the numbers by relating the data to your audience and making comparisons to provide perspective. It isn’t a foolproof formula, but it is pretty close. The right slice of data will cut straight through writer’s block.
    Sign up for The Moz Top 10 , a semimonthly mailer updating you on the top ten hottest pieces of SEO news, tips, and rad links uncovered by the Moz team. Think of it as your exclusive digest of stuff you don’t have time to hunt down but want to read!
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ohitskarenn · 7 years
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Trends of Originality
During my internship as a high school photography teacher, I designed a curriculum whose goal was for each of my students to propose his/her own photo project idea and plan of execution that results with the best set of photos that represents their theme/idea and the amount of work put into it. The idea was to try to get them to be more “creative”. Creativity has more meanings than one in this case, but that would be another blog post if I were to get into that. Anyway, you would think the idea of “my teacher letting me pick what I get to do” would get the students to jump for joy, but the initial excitement was short-lived as soon as they realized they had no clue how to come up with an idea, or the opposite problem was having too many ideas that they couldn’t narrow it down and decide on a specific one, let alone how to execute that idea--- discouraging indeed, but not surprising.
As a teacher, I had to find a way to not overwhelm them with all this freedom I wanted to give them, so the road to Creativity was a gradual one. I started with a project that gave them pretty strict guidelines with some room for creativity. The next project gave them less guidelines and more freedom, and so on and so forth until the very last project gave them the least amount of restrictions and the most amount of freedom. Now this curriculum was a big success for me, and I am positive that the students gained something from it, too. I would have wanted to leave it at that and just give myself a nod of approval; However, as a Master’s student, I was required to have proof that this was actually successful (or not successful)...otherwise I wouldn’t have graduated...HA. So this was the tough part: I had to come up with a way to measure the students’ success. If you’ve ever been an instructor in the creative arts field, please tell me you understand how terribly difficult this is. You and I both know that after all the technical critiques, yes, art is objective, but we can also tell whether you’ve worked hard and are showing progress or are just showing us plain bologna and trying to pass it off as “art”. After a lot of research, I finally found one way of measuring creativity-- two of the categories in this being Quantity and Trends of Originality. In photography terms, here’s what this meant:
Quantity: Take more photographs. The more photographs you take, the better understanding you will have of the topic you’re trying to translate into a photograph.
also means:
Quantity: Spend time on your photographs. The more time you spend on your assignment, the better your final result will be.
Trends of Originality: Once you have a great idea, stick to it. If you get frustrated, instead of changing it completely, find a way to slightly alter it in order to better represent your thoughts.
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For each project, I had my students record how many photographs they took, how much time they spent on the photographs, and how many times they altered their idea without completely straying from the original. For just about every student, I found that the predictions were true: The Quantity and Trends of Originality of the beginning projects were much lower than those in the later projects, and the students stated that the later projects represented their creative ideas much more than the earlier ones where they took less photographs and spent less time developing the ideas. The students were also much happier with the results in their later projects.
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I’ve spent a lot of the past five or six years trying to convince people that the skills practiced in the arts are something that can and should be applied to just about anything in life. I truly believe that the arts are so relevant in so many things. Take a look at my life, for example. Right now, I am a Nanny. This is not the career that I had thought of when I started college. In fact, you could say I was like one of my photography students when I first graduated High School: People told me I could do whatever I wanted with my life, and the idea at first was amazing, but it quickly overwhelmed me. I literally wanted to do so many things.
I wanted to learn to bake.
I wanted to be a CSI.
I wanted to be in the darkroom.
I wanted to make jewelry.
I wanted to be one of those baby doctors that get to deliver cute babies all the time.
I wanted to make mini movies.
I wanted to get married.
I wanted to teach.
I wanted to be a mom.
I wanted to work in the Emergency Room.
I wanted to make burritos at Dos Amigos.
I wanted to be an interior designer.
I wanted to get paid to taste test.
I was the student that couldn’t narrow down what I wanted to do with my life. Honestly, it was scary to have all those choices ahead of me at 17 years old, and because I had a difficult time deciding, I just noted that one of my goals in life was just to help people, and nurses help people. Since I was already taking a Licensed Nursing Assistant course, my school counselor advised that I had a good chance of getting in if I applied to colleges for Nursing because it was a very competitive field to get into, and it would be better to get in, then decide to leave, rather than not get in, and trying to apply after the schools already got their pick. So that’s what I did. I applied to just about all the nearby schools that 1) offered Nursing, 2) was on CommonApp, and 3) had no application fee (broke broke broke). I was accepted to several that I wanted to go to, a lot that I had no interest in, and to UNH, which was the cheapest way to go and ultimately the winner. Fast forward to Orientation Day, in a cramped room full of incoming Nursing majors, I decided, “You know who else helps people? Art teachers. Art teachers helped me, so I’m going to keep helping myself by making art, then help others make art, too.” I switched my major. So things like this kept happening where I went from one idea, and kept altering it from there. I know-- it’s hard to follow, but bear with me and try to grasp this for a second. Remember how we said Trends of Originality was taking an idea and sticking (slightly altering) with it?
My Trend of Originality Timeline went like this:
Idea: Help People
High School Courses: Film | Drawing |Jewelry | Ceramics | Photo
College Major: Nursing
New Idea: Help People/Make Art
Major Change: Studio Art
Job: Licensed Nursing Assistant
New Idea: Help People/Make Art/Teach Art in School
Major Change: Fine Art (Education Track)
Additional Jobs: Photography Lab Technician | Substitute Teacher
Add Summer Job: Temporary Nanny
Internship: High School and Elementary School
Add Job: Regular Babysitter
Add Summer Job: Summer Art Camps
New Idea: Help Kids/Teach Art
Add Job: Nanny/Homeschool Teacher
New Idea: Help Kids/Teach Kids
If anyone looked at my resume and experiences, they would think I was scatterbrained, indecisive, or noncommittal. Okay okay, they may not be 100% crazy on those descriptions of me, but I wouldn’t consider it fair to look at my bulleted timeline of experiences without trying to see how they aligned in the idea. Not everyone has a scatterbrained list like this, however. I know that a lot of my peers have had their eyes fixed on something they’ve aspired to be their whole lives, and I am so proud of them for sticking with it and landing an amazing job in their fields. For almost the entire second half of 2016, I spent a great deal of time being disappointed in myself for having gone through 5 years of school ($$$ tuition $$$ yay $$$) to find myself in a job that doesn’t require a college education at all. I would try to justify it in my head or make insecure jokes about it so I wouldn’t feel so bad, but last month, I finally realized that all of what I did in college DID lead up to this Nanny job with a wonderful family. That being said, I am one thousand percent positive I would not be the Nanny I am without the college education and experience that I got, and I would be lying if I said I would give up this job in a heartbeat in order to teach in a classroom. The opportunity to officially use my degrees may come one day, but for now, I’m going to live my life the way I taught my students to do photo projects: get lots of experience, take my time on them, and go with the flow of the changes.
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xexilia · 4 years
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I don't log in as much as I used to. But I want to drop by and say you inspired me to finally actually attempt drawing comics myself. Really the main barrier was a mental one. Look forward to seeing updates to the comic.
I’m glad I could help!
The biggest enemy and hurdle with creating content and sharing it—no matter what kind it is—is always oneself. It’s hard to silence that inner critic who tells you not to try, especially when the internet makes it oh so easy to see billions upon billions of people in the same field that you perceive as better or greater than yourself; It’s no mystery why people shy away and become afraid to share their creations.
I find it helps to remind myself that not everyone in the world knows my endgame or design; Classical/realism artists are some of my favorites, but if I were to ask one for suggestions and help, they’d give me help to make my work into classical/realism as opposed to manga/comics. In other words, what some people would call a flaw, another set of people would cite as the very reason they like something!
To that end; Not everyone knows your design or endgame means it’s not always easy for someone to identify your mistakes unless they are seasoned and trained in your field (Or just an avid fan who has decided they’ve seen enough of stuff in your field to tell you what is what.) This can be a huge benefit—don’t point out what you dislike or made mistakes on with your own work and 90% of people won’t know or care!—and a huge problem. After all, just because people play a lot of video games does NOT mean they can tell you how to write the code for one better; Much as they may not admit it, fans can be less educated in “how the sausage is made” (so to speak) than they think. This is a key reason why I’m a big supporter or being VERY careful of the advice you listen to; Other artists will try to sabatouge one another, others have a different end goal or agenda they see art to accomplish (Think of art teachers who forbid fan art because the school can’t use it for promotional pictures, or it can’t be legally sold without infringing upon intellectual copyright, and see all art as only worthwhile as long as it sells), and some just give bad advice (I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen or heard someone tell an artist how to “fix” an issue with a piece, especially anatomy, only to make the issue worse—and in some cases cause an issue where none existed to begin with!)
In the end, what matters is YOU like what you make—it doesn’t have to be “right” or “correct”—it just has to make you happy and meet whatever goals you may have set for yourself. Nothing happens out of the blue or overnight, so forget instant fame and fortune or you’ll always be disappointed, but art is like anything else; A journey of a thousand miles that only begins when you take that first step. Like all of us, we crawl first and fall flat the first few thousand steps we try to take. Eventually, though, you look back and realize you’ve been walking without falling (As much) for a lot longer than you ever crawled or fell. Don’t be afraid to take those first steps, and don’t be ashamed when you wobble, topple, and fall; We all do, no matter how long we’ve been walking. There is no such thing as perfection or pleasing all of the people all of the time.
Some of the best advice I ever got (When I was doing stand up, actually), was “You do this for you.”
That’s art; You don’t do it for anyone else. You do this for you.
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anneedmonds · 4 years
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Sunday Tittle Tattle: Nippleback
I finally caved in, after over ten years of owning an iPhone, and bought myself a protective case. Why the prolonged hesitation? I’ll tell you why. I genuinely think that most phone cases are horrendous. They’re like the tech version of Crocs. Plasticky, garish monstrosities that just seem to be needlessly bad. Design abominations. And what’s worse is that they take an object of great design beauty, the iPhone – so divine in its apparent simplicity, so streamlined! – and clothe it in fancy dress.
Whether it’s a rectangular neoprene wetsuit affair or some kind of angular, metallic thing that adds four kilos to the total weight of the handset, pretty much all iPhone cases look shite.
But anyway I bought two. (I kept my old phone – see below.) One is all gold and shiny and jagged, like a teen’s drawing of a futuristic supercar, the other is a rubbery coral-toned sheath. A kinky flesh suit for my new iPhone 11 Pro Max, which was a very kind Christmas present from Mr AMR and I had no idea quite how kind until I accidentally stumbled upon the price online whilst looking for phone tripods. It’s the sort of price that warrants full-time security and a driver, or at least one of those briefcases with a chain that you can handcuff to your person.
Anyway, back to the rubbery sheath. It has this funny pop-out thing at the back that looks a bit like a weird nipple; it pulls out with a satisfying thrrrp and helps you to grip the phone, if having a phone almost entirely covered in non-slip material isn’t grippy enough for you. Perhaps your fingers are made of banana skins or the tips produce a constant flow of melted lard. I don’t know. You’d have to be pretty bloody clumsy to not get a grip on a silicon case.
And I look at these cases and think this: why have I spent a fortune buying an iPhone, an object that has surpassed all usual standards of design and function, an absolute tech icon, and then put a case on it that’s so ugly you have to question the designer’s sanity? It’s like throwing a polyester dog blanket over a George Smith sofa, or wrapping a Ferrari FF in sticky back plastic, or clothing Michelangelo’s David in a tracksuit from Boohoo.
But I’ll tell you why I’ve put a case on: because the iPhone is too naked and vulnerable without one. With its glass casing it’s more like a phone foetus than a fully-formed piece of tech – one wrong move, one rushed pants-pull-down to go to the loo when it’s in your back pocket, one child’s clumsy swipe and the whole shebang is game over. Carrying an iPhone about is like being responsible for a Fabergé egg – you’re constantly catching it mid-air, comedy-style, and breathing a sigh of relief when a knock results in “just a small crack in the corner but it doesn’t affect the screen”.
And all of this is the fault of the iPhone designers, who have made what is now our most-used modern-world thing out of the most fragile material they could think of. They may as well have folded it out of origami paper or covered it in the crumbling pages from a 12th century monastic ledger. I just can’t even conceive what was happening in the meeting where they discussed manufacturing.
“OK guys, I am loving this iPhone idea. It’s like a cell phone, but so much more. I mean, I totally see people using this all of the time – like all the time. Not just for calls, but for everything. Schedules. Emails. Taking photos. I want this to be in people’s hands constantly, I want them to carry it with them everywhere. In the car, walking down the sidewalk, at the mall, on a family trip to the ocean…”
“Yeah boss, this is so awesome. It’ll be, like, the accessory. The most-used thing people will ever own. Question is guys, what do we make it from? This piece of expensive tech that the world will carry with them and probably put in their back pocket loads? Let’s put our heads together here guys. Over there in the corner, you there – Sam, what d’you reckon? What should we make the iPhone out of?”
“Erm…glass?”
“Awesome Sam. Alright team, let’s go ahead and manufacture in glass. If you could also make it super-slippy to hold, and also create weak points in the screen and casing so that if a spider sneezes it immediately shatters, that would be super-awesome. Let’s go guys, let’s do this!”
I still haven’t gotten used to my sheathed iPhone. Sometimes it takes me surprise and I look at it and think “that phone cannot possibly be mine.” Alas it is. I feel as though I’ve had a horrific hairdye job and I sort of forget about it until I look in the mirror and then, for a few seconds, I have a sense of disbelief. How could I have gone so dreadfully wrong? 
But anyway, my iPhone now has the equivalent of a hi-vis hazmat bullet proof wetsuit on and so I’m sure it feels a lot safer. (It ponders upon this as it lies there on its charger-pad bed. The fact that it’s so brilliantly, perfectly formed, yet it needs so much help to survive. “Why did Daddy make me so weak?”)
I bought another case, too, for my old iPhone, the one that I didn’t trade in. WHAT? you may well ask. One always trades in, surely? Not I, friends, not in this case. And do you know why? Yes, the £350 was a massive temptation, but I can tell you a bigger temptation: having a spare phone filled with noisy/educational game apps for the sproglings to play on when I want a moment’s peace. Because do you know what I like to do when I’m having that moment’s peace? I like to play on my phone! There’s nothing more frustrating than sitting down with a cup of tea and a slice of Christmas cake (it’s still going strong, well done Mother) and realising you can’t actually scroll through Instagram or read the news because the very thing giving you a spare five minutes is the thing you need!
Anyway, I bought a case for the games phone (extravagant, but quite honestly there’s no price you can put on sanity, is there?) and good God it’s even uglier than my silicon nipple-backed one. (Nippleback. Could be a Nickelback tribute band!) It’s all angular and weird like Kryton from Red Dwarf.
The oddest thing about it is that it has a porthole cutaway so that the apple symbol can still be seen. Oh good! At least if people see the apple then they won’t think that the entire phone is an Early Learning Centre replica. It screams “there is good design inside me! You just have to look deeper! Beauty isn’t all skin deep you know!” Good bloody job really isn’t it?
Putting a sleek, flawless iPhone into the Kryto-case is like making Gisele routinely wear a suit made from egg cartons.
“Uhhhh, Clarissa?”
“Yeah.”
“We’re shooting Gisele for the cover tomorrow and we need to keep Chanel happy but she’s currently working with Dior, so…we have the bias-cut Dior drop-neck slip or we have the Chanel bikini styled with the snow boots.”
“Uhh, really? OK no, scrap those. Can you just go to fifth floor and ask if they’re still recycling the egg boxes? I’ll make them into a suit.”
“A…suit? We’re paying fifteen thousand dollars for a phone – I mean a model – and we’re going to hide her in an egg carton suit?”
“Yeah don’t worry, we can cut a hole out somewhere so that you still see how good her body is underneath.”
Don’t know where that semi-analogy was off to! Anyway you get the gist. I’m not impressed with these cases – even the apple ones look rubbish, although slightly less rubbish. To be quite honest I do wish I’d bought the silicon Apple one, which doesn’t have a Nippelback and is a nicer shade of pink. I think it was cheaper, to add insult to injury…
If you’re looking at these cases thinking I don’t actually think they look that bad then a) observe an unadulterated iPhone – isn’t it quite smooth and perfect and wonderful? – and b) you’re probably right but if I didn’t fully exaggerate all of my thoughts then I’d have nothing to write about.
Mind you, the three lens thing on the back of the new iPhones is almost as hideous as a Nippleback – I feel as though my new phone is an escapee from a robotics junkyard and any minute the front will open and little wheels will drop down and it’ll start beeping at me like R2D2. It’s an excellent camera but jeez. Chill out on the lens orgy!
Notes so that I don’t get sued: apparently Apple have made the new phone out of the strongest metal-strengthened glass known to the entire universe. The extra lenses are necessary for the super-duper image quality and both of the cases shown above are top-rated, high-performing cases that shouldn’t be mocked.
The post Sunday Tittle Tattle: Nippleback appeared first on A Model Recommends.
©2020 " Sunday Tittle Tattle: Nippleback published first on https://medium.com/@SkinAlley
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entergamingxp · 4 years
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How Age of Empires 2 got some Scottish kids into RTS • Eurogamer.net
Here’s a question: How do you get a bunch of disillusioned kids in the arse end of Scotland into real time strategy games? I doubt it’s a question the creators of Age of Empire 2 ever asked themselves but nonetheless, they provided a definitive answer. Now I can’t help but wonder as I play through the recently released Definitive Edition, are there games that could manage similar feats? Better ones?
The 90s in Scotland was a bit…rubbish. Especially in its deprived areas (poverty fell in the late 90s but in depressing statistics according to the CPAG, it seems to be once more on the rise once again). It was difficult to be surrounded by the remains of a post-industrial nation and feel any sense of pride or hope about the future or present, never mind the past. Then along came Braveheart. It might sound dumb to credit one film (made by Hollywood with an American fielding a questionable Scottish accent in the lead role) with a surge in national pride but, well, it absolutely did cause one. Scotland’s history, of outnumbered rebels fighting against English reign is easy to romanticise but it was also abstract for a load of folk. This over-the-top movie (whose historical inaccuracies are no better summed up than featuring the famed Battle of Stirling Bridge…with no bridge) made Scottish history tangible, emotional and inspiring. The fever that emerged among Scots following the film even had some English critics describing Braveheart as spreading “Anglophobia”. Point is, finally there was some easy sense of identity for young folk to latch on to. I cannot overstate how much this film was watched when I was growing up.
Then four years later along comes Age of Empires 2 with a campaign about the Scottish Wars of Independence. Another American production (from the now sadly defunct Ensemble Studios), it doesn’t take much to imagine that this was likely an inclusion entirely as a result of Braveheart’s success (it won five Oscars, including best picture) but the effect was surprising. See, a lot of kids my age didn’t have much time for video games beyond FIFA or whatever. Maybe some Tekken. Games were an occasional thing, not a hobby. See Age of Empires 2 though? You could play as the Scots. No video game lets you be Scottish. Even today if you wanna be Scottish in a video game your best hope is as a dwarven warrior in some fantasy RPG.
There’s still a fondness in my heart for the absurd Braveheart.
Now, trying to explain Real Time Strategy to the kid two doors down who spent more time playing football and fighting wasn’t the easiest task on the planet (though explaining how to install the game on their da’s computer was even tougher) but once they had it, they were away. Suddenly you had a bunch of folk who’d never touched a strategy game in their lives tearing into Age of Empires 2. A sight to behold. It got them into all other portions of history too! I confess at this point in time I was more interested in the Joan of Arc campaign for reasons that weren’t yet clear to me (let me tell you, finding out there was a film where Milla Jovovich played her did things for me, dear reader) which was fine by the folk I knew, ’cause she also battered the English.
The William Wallace campaign was the tutorial, introducing players to the game’s basics, which was just perfect for the kids I knew. None of us at the time really took note of just how awful the Scottish accents are, with the actor somehow settling on being a pirate instead. The campaign itself alludes to famous battles but is as true to them as Braveheart, with its base building design and simple combat not really allowing it to facilitate the kinds of tactics that defined the Scottish Wars of Independence. Hardly educational in any sense, but enthralling all the same.
It didn’t stop there however.
Once you got a bunch of eager young kids into one RTS, suddenly they wanted to know about others. Soon I had folk who distinctly would’ve shunned “space shite” asking about Starcraft and soon enough Command & Conquer. These kids who’d never let themselves be called nerds in a million years were now desperately figuring out how to construct additional pylons. Wild stuff. You should’ve seen their faces when I showed them Shogun: Total War for the first time where you could have thousands of dudes on screen at once. There was also an actual Braveheart video game too…it was just, not very good.
It didn’t really last of course. Most drifted back to their preferred series like FIFA. But for a little while, they wanted to know. I won’t forget how easily Age of Empires got a whole bunch of kids who had no interest in strategy games hooked on the genre with the simple promise of representation. How powerful it can be to see something of yourself in the art available to you. For me, however, my taste in games only broadened while my relationship with my Scottish identity grew more complicated over time as I found myself repulsed by nationalism but deeply connected with my heritage. Sometimes my personal feelings hover around that famous speech from Renton in Trainspotting, which came out a year after Braveheart.
Age of Empires 2 helped me understand not only the value of representation at a very young age, but, as I grew older and more disillusioned, also helped me see how dire the representation people often get is. We spend so much time struggling to get a seat at the table that we don’t get any time there to discuss the full spectrum of our experiences. On the rare occasion a game covers our history, it’s not from a Scottish perspective, and you do wonder how warped our sense of self has become from external romanticism. Where are the tales that wrestle with our identity, our position as a nation of colonisers and the colonised? That expose more personal truths about what being Scottish really means? If Age of Empires 2 could so easily draw folk around me in, how easily could it have shown us a more thoughtful story?
Trainspotting might be the definitive piece of Scottish cinema.
As keenly as I am aware of the topics and stories of Scotland that remain untouched, I can see the blank spaces of my own understanding, where whole nations and peoples have barely had their stories told in favour of another story about the plight of the privileged.
I am dying for more Scottish games and, well, games from every kind of folks. Cause when you get these games, when you let people celebrate their own history and culture, you can invite them into whole new ideas. There’s power in that beyond just getting them to sit down with another genre.
With the Definitive Edition here, I doubt it’ll have the impact it did on a bunch of hopeless kids back in the 90s but I’m tempted to return, to get a wee slice of my own history through the lens of an accessible RTS. Even if it’s only to long for more substantial games about my home country. Well, that and to see if they sorted out the bloody awful accents.
from EnterGamingXP https://entergamingxp.com/2020/01/how-age-of-empires-2-got-some-scottish-kids-into-rts-%e2%80%a2-eurogamer-net/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=how-age-of-empires-2-got-some-scottish-kids-into-rts-%25e2%2580%25a2-eurogamer-net
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ravenhoim · 5 years
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regarding the recent discussion on gifted kids and the school system, I find it hard to sympathize for very long because these people have always hoarded the conversation on the educational system. I always see people discussing, by the hundreds of thousands, how being 'gifted' was a curse and how the expectations and such killed them as they grew older, and that's a valid thing to discuss of course, don't grt me wrong. I saw it happen multiple times and I faced the brunt of some of that shit too, but...
I just never see anyone talk about being the bad kid, the slow kid, the special ed kid, the kid who was literally abused by the adults they were supposed to be able to trust and couldn't tell anyone because they weren't believed because they were a 'bad' kid and they must've deserved it...
nobody talks about the kids who couldn't feel safe at home, but they couldn't feel safe at school, either, so they acted out. I want to discuss how kids can be cruel and violent and selfish and ignorant because they're being abused by the system and nobody listens to them because of the way they act! y'know? the kids who felt like... what's the point, I'm just going to be punished anyway, might as well?
I was violent and loud, I lied and stole things pathologically, I hid in bathrooms and empty classrooms so I could finally feel safe, I slept in class because I couldn't sleep at home, I had breakdowns and tantrums and shut downs and I felt like a useless sack of shit my entire childhood because I couldn't "apply myself", I was "disruptive" and "obstinate", they put me on meds that turned me into a starving mindless zombie so I wouldn't annoy or disrupt anymore, they gave me detention and suspension and ISS and took away my bathroom breaks and lunches and recesses and they put me in wards and groups and cubicles and cold concrete rooms full of dreadful silence where I was forced to do Packets for six months. I was even punished for cutting and starving myself and told that if they found anymore marks or found out I hadn't been eating, I'd be sent to a mental ward. again. no friends, being given more meds I hated, being watched constantly... it was nightmarish
the best thing that ever happened to me was me getting a counsellor who actually tried to understand me. she let me draw and talk about dinosaurs and all the things I loved that no grown up cared about. she didn't punish me for having shut downs or outbursts or jiggling my leg or singing... and then they threw me back in solitary detention a week after she left because I couldn't handle her absence and decided there was no point anymore
the educational system fucked me, and millions of other kids, up beyond explanation. especially non-white kids, who made up the massive majority of every group and ward and corrections facility i entered. abused kids, developmentally challenged kids, non-white kids, disabled kids... we were all victims of an overburdened, uncaring system that chewed us up and spit us out and told us we'd never amount to anything. and most of us didn't. we internalized it all...
its so fucked up how I was a kid who loved art and science and reading and writing, I loved to learn and explore and grow, my favorite thing to do was to ask questions... I had a multitude of adults tell me they saw insane potential in me, and yet... ten years in their broken system turned me into a largely non-functional, dissociative mess that struggles with things most 15 year olds have mastered. I'm scared of educational environments and authority, scared I'm a useless idiot that will never amount to anything, scared of expectations and responsibilities because it means punishment if I fail for the thousandth time...
so I guess what I want to say is... if any of this vibes with you...you aren't, and/or weren't... a bad kid. I'm sorry for what happened to you, I'm sorry nobody tried to help you or understand you... I'm sorry the system broke you. you're not stupid or slow or fucked up, you're so much more than your absences, behavior slips, and failing grades. acting out and shutting down and giving up... none of that makes you bad. there's nothing wrong with cheating or running away or dropping out. its okay to be home schooled, it's okay to have a GED and nothing else to show for your years and years of suffering. its okay to have a 1.2 gpa and it's okay to not go to college, or to fail college. its okay to feel like a hurting little kid in an adults body, living in a world that is determined not to understand you.
its okay to be scared. and I'm really sorry.
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