#if you only take about your socially acceptable thoughts it's not really confessional is it?

[thedreadvampy]

btw about Neil Gaiman I periodically agree with the 'Neil Gaiman is annoying' stuff bc I feel like both he and Amanda Palmer seem like people who I would go insane stuck in a room with bc we have very different ideas about art and suchlike. and I also do think that the career trajectory he's on lately is cynically redoing his greatest hits and pretending that was the dream all along when it clearly was not. which is at best meh.

having said which

as far as I can tell by far the most common complaint about Neil Gaiman is "Snow, Glass, Apples is problematic/gross/it's got incest and rape and frames the child as the aggressor"

which strikes me as a weird complaint to pull out of a 40 year body of work tbh when that short story is pretty clearly coming from a place of 'how far can I push this'. like you don't have to like the story. I don't really like the story. but it is. a horror story.

like and this is the thing with particularly 90s alt horror right? a lot of the interest is in transgression and sitting in the worst possible perspective and seeing what happens if you pull those strings. like I really like Clive Barker for example but there's a good chunk of his short stories that I'm like I'm not picking up what you're putting down Clive this seems Kinda Off. but that willingness to write some trite or Bad Message horror fiction that doesn't land is imo a side effect of being willing to try writing uncomfortable and unpleasant fiction at all. which is what horror is for, among other things, it's for creating discomfort as a form of catharsis or engagement.

like I am not a huge fan of the type of sex-horror that pops up in a lot of Gaiman's work and other contemporary horror writers - to me I don't find it upsetting or horny it just ends up feeling kind of edgy and tryhard - but I'm also a bit like. it does seem like a lot of people's beef with Neil Gaiman is that In The 90s He Was A Horror Writer

and this approach to Problematic Horror in Snow, Glass, Apples I find kind of microcosmic of how The Discourse often approaches art in this kind of 1:1 way. if you write a story which seems to line up with rape apologia it can only be because you agree with it. if you write a story about transphobia you're a transphobe. if you write a story that makes me genuinely uncomfortable you're attacking me.

but artwork, especially art like horror that's not necessarily trying to provoke enjoyment as its main response, is necessarily hit and miss. and if what you're shooting for is discomfort then whether it works, falls flat or goes too far incredibly depends on your audience. and making good art - as in art that makes its audience think, art that opens the audience up to discomfort and catharsis and sticks with them and changes them - requires the space to experiment and tbh the space to fuck up. like they aren't all going to be winners and they certainly aren't all going to work for you as a singular audience.

personally I don't see the appeal of Snow, Glass, Apples, less cause it's nasty and more cause it's hack. ooh an edgy monstrous version of a fairy tale where there's lots of rape and cannibalism? you're soooo original Neil. but like. that's fine. I don't really vibe with like 70% of Neil Gaiman stuff I've read but I still like Neil Gaiman because the stuff that works for me really works for me.

idk I think there's a lot of folk on this website who shouldn't interact with horror cause they clearly aren't interested in being horrified. that's not everyone who dislikes Snow, Glass, Apples, but it's a real undercurrent to a lot of the criticism and tbh this kinda vibe is shit for art. making standout art What Is Good also requires being ready to make art which stands out for the wrong reasons. sometimes they'll be the same art to different people.

#red said #not to Cancel Culture this but isabelle fall springs to mind in a lot of how folks talk about stuff like this #like she wrote a transgressive piece exploring her own negative feelings about transness and her anger around a transphobic trope #and she made something which i found really resonant and interesting #and she got torn apart for it because it Might From Some Angles Agree With Transphobia #and I'm not making a direct comparison. because i think attack helicopter is a really GOOD story and i think SGA is gratuitous and hack #but that's the thing right? transgression and discomfort and speaking about unpleasant things in an openended way are KEY #to making art that engages directly with your own pains and angers and discomforts #and that's hard to mediate tbh. but it's also very necessary. #i think as well thinking about Gaiman this is also a thought I've often had about Amanda Palmer #who over the years has written a lot of songs about things i find genuinely uncomfortable or offensive. #and i can engage with 'it's fucked up to tell your ex they transed their gender At You' or 'your partner's suicide is not about you' bc yeah #but #you can't celebrate someone for making confessional music then get mad because you don't like everything they confess #if you only take about your socially acceptable thoughts it's not really confessional is it? #if you only talk about discomforting things that people are comfortable hearing about its not really discomforting #and you can only really discern what's Good Transgressive and what's Damaging Transgressive through doing i think #so if you want challenging art you are going to have to get some art which challenges you and you go hmm no i still disagree #is what i think #so yeah you can hate the artwork but when an artist is specifically setting out to make challenging art it's weird to hate them #for making 50 pieces of art you like and 1 you hate

[asteracaea]

i'm just gonna contemplate some hypotheticals here.

let's say you're a very young woman with startling talent as a songwriter and a performer, and you are dedicated to your dream of becoming a huge star. the particular genre your music has found its voice in (thus far) is country.

during the years you grow up, it's not really socially acceptable for a girl to not be interested in boys. and queerness in any form is even less supported, discussed, or accepted than it is today. so you talk about boys with your friends, convince yourself that you like them (and hey, maybe you really do!) but there's also something appealing to you about girls and you like them a LOT. maybe you haven't identified what it is exactly. you probably don't have the language or knowledge to understand what you're feeling. your culture doesn't provide you with that. but because girls are allowed to be very close and even physically intimate with their best friends, you are free to joke and play and explore your feelings without them being labeled as something unacceptable.

you work unbelievably hard and you finally get your big break as a musician. maybe your managers can tell something about you, maybe you've already figured it out about yourself, or maybe this is still unknown or un acknowledged by everyone in your circle. either way, your team starts to build the media narrative of the precocious american princess dreaming of love.

maybe originating from your pr team, or maybe starting organically in your fans, people start to love the idea that your songs are "confessional," like diary entries. they love the idea of knowing your innermost feelings. because this clearly leads to more sales and more revenue, you and your team decide to go along with this. you encourage it and play along. when you see the major interest that comes from revealing (or at least intimating) who a song is about, you use that as a marketing strategy and it works.

yes, your songs are actually brilliant and they are what keep people around, but the marketing strategies are what get most of them to bite the hook in the first place. the public has a massive fascination with the love lives and relationships of celebrities. you know this and exploit this and it works. maybe the guys you date are all pr set-ups, maybe you were encouraged to try dating them for real because it would benefit both of your upcoming projects, maybe you really did meet somewhere and sparks flew. but maybe there were other people who stirred your heart who your publicist told you "would not be a good idea." maybe you had to hide those feelings (or relationships!) but you could still write about those experiences by changing a gender pronoun here and inserting a male name there.

your strategy is working. you are quickly becoming one of the biggest country stars in the world, and then one of the biggest stars period. you expand into the more-widely consumed genre of pop. but more attention unfortunately also means more criticism and scrutiny. because people are obsessed with celebrity relationships, yours (real or not) become the only topic of conversation. not your music itself. this is heartbreaking for you. not only that, the strategy which once worked so well in your favor is now starting to tear you down. people slut shame you, call you a "serial dater," say that guys shouldn't date you because they'll "just get a song written about them." no one (except your fans) is actually paying attention to the beautiful art you are creating at a level of quality (and quantity) that is astonishing for anyone, let alone someone of your young years.

maybe around this time you meet someone who could very well be your soul mate. it's pretty much love at first sight. because you are both girls, you can let the world see how close you are, how you spend all your time together, even hold hands, and people can just call you "pals." maybe for a while that is what it is. but maybe one day you go from friends to this. maybe your behavior in public becomes a little too much to write off as "just pals." you both have careers as international superstars and it is very likely that a relationship of this nature would jeopardize them. the careers you love, that you spent your whole lives working toward, that other people's livelihoods depend on. so what are you to do?

your summer of the apocalypse comes. the world turns on you and you are sent into exile. you are devastated and what you thought was your reality has shattered and crashed. but you still have music, and you still have your great love. you step back from it all and reassess, rearrange, regroup. you find that you are happy, stable, grounded. but the only way to preserve that is by never again allowing the public so deep into your life. people loved you for your openness, how much of yourself that you shared. but then they used that to hurt you and you won't let it happen again. so you come up with a new strategy.

you want to write songs about a deep, intimate, long-lasting love, but your past "relationships" have only spanned a few months at most. you also want people to stop scrutinizing your actions, particularly your dating life; stop talking about it, speculating about it, criticizing you for it. you find a tall, blond, blue-eyed british boy. he will be part of the story you tell the world. he will be long-term, stable, happy. he will also be boring. no one will have anything to gossip about, and no one will go prying for anything under the surface. you take full control of your public image, to the smallest detail. eventually, your music will be heard for what it is, instead of as gossip-y tell-alls. you expand your creativity and meld "fact" with fiction to 1) throw everyone off the scent and 2) to create stunning art that you wouldn't have been able to when you felt limited to only write as the character of your public persona.

and behind the scenes, you can do whatever you want. are you still with your muse of 8 years? we don't know! are you dating other women, other people of any gender? we don't know! but you have your music and your privacy and you are at peace.

#again just hypotheticals here #just musing on what a person might do if they happened to be in a situation like this

[hualianff]

Mi Amor(tentia) II 《I》

Every Sunday, XL personally delivers the ingredients to HC to restock after each week. Sometimes it’s during the morning before classes, HC inviting XL to stay and chat over coffee.

Other times, it’s in the middle of HC’s classes because XL’s only has so many chunks of free time to drop the ingredients off. XL usually keeps himself scarce as he helps himself to deposit the ingredients off on HC’s desk in his office.

On days XL is especially busy with classes, meetings with outside personnel and tending to the school’s greenhouse, his sixth-year teaching assistant, BY, will deliver ingredients to HC.

HC is easily the person XL enjoys spending time with the most. They have such fun conversations and HC makes XL feel so comfortable and listened to. Plus, HC is undeniably charming and handsome. XL thanks whatever higher power there is that someone as refined as HC took XL under his wing.

XL has learned and observed that HC is a professor that students either love or hate. Some perceive the potions professor as sketchy-looking and unfair in his grading. They take HC’s pushing as ridiculing, then complain about their poor marks after refusing to do the bare minimum of the assignment.

(Unbeknownst to HC, XL has taken it upon himself to passive aggressively warn these students from bad-mouthing HC in the hallways.)

Understandably, The first year students absolutely cower in HC’s presence. But from fourth year and up, HC is one of the most loved professors. When HC begins to passionately lecture with really big hand gestures and funny word combinations, the students can’t help but admire him with starry eyes.

(Student: “Hua Lao Shi, I don’t think ‘impossibleness’ is a word.”

HC: “It is now. As I was saying, don’t let the impossibleness of a goal influence your confidence in working towards it. You should not pay attention to whether something is possible or not, but rather focus on what steps you’re taking to find your answer.)

He’s clearly smart; intellectually based from the readings he assigns students from his own books; socially as his humor is always on point and he never misses a beat to tease his students; and emotionally because HC does not tolerate bullying in his house or his classroom. (Nor in the school, if he can help it.)

HC himself was bullied back in the muggle orphanage and during his time at Hogwarts. He knows what it feels like to wake up dreading going to classes and interacting with people who had nothing better to do than put others down. 

So while HC can seem intimidating and blunt at first, he genuinely has his students’ best interests and wellbeing in mind. Witnessing how seriously HC takes his job as a teacher and trusted adult figure, XL’s feelings wrap around him like vines and squeeze him in their hold anytime he’s around HC.

XL’s never had a crush like this before.

Later in the semester, XL and HC are chosen as the professors to monitor the first years on their first trip to Hogsmeade. There is no doubt the transfiguration professor, SQX, took part in pulling some strings to make this happen for XL.

What no one knows is that the defense against the dark arts professor also played matchmaker. In an intense game of wizard's chest that unfortunately ended in his defeat, HX was forced to nominate HC to go with XL. 

HC and XL make the best guides. XL is very enthusiastic in answering first years’ questions while HC is good at describing things through muggle terminology.

During his years at Hogwarts, XL has always loved the Hogsmeade trips and bought new candies from Honeydukes each time. In fact, he has a huge sweet tooth that he can never satisfy. Cue XL showing the students around Honeydukes and HC buying all of XL’s favorite goodies in the background.

When it’s time to move on to the next store, HC presents the bagged sweets to XL with a smile.

(XL, staring at the bagged sweets: “San Lang! You shouldn’t have!”

HC, grabbing XL’s hand and physically transferring the bag: “Nonsense. Gege deserves a reward for working so hard lately. Giving him a few candies is the least I can do.”

XL, clutching the bag tightly, fingers tingling from brushing against HC’s own: “If you insist. Many thanks, San Lang.” 

XL snacks on some sweets for the rest of the trip. HC watches with a pleased eye.)

One day during finals week before winter break, XL falls ill with a terrible migraine. He’s been prone to migraines for a while now, which he’s used to enduring with medicine tablets that don’t do much to ease the pain. 

XL manages to get through his morning classes. But by lunch time, his stomach pain worsened tenfold to which HC, who planned on having lunch with XL, convinced the herbology professor to take the rest of the day off. 

“But my classes-” XL’s voice breaks off as he winces as another wave of nausea sweeps through his body. HC puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“I will fill in for you,” HC assures. XL looks like he’s about to protest, however, the potions professor holds a finger up to his lips. “I can quickly brew something up for your pain. You like the smell of eucalyptus, right? I can add a faint scent to soothe your sinuses too.”

“San Lang…”

HC fixes XL with a pointed stare. XL’s face softens, eyes closing in defeat.

“Thank you,” he says gratefully. Without thinking, HC reaches over to cup XL’s cheek, sliding back to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear before massaging his temple. 

“It’s not a problem. Gege needs rest.”

Luckily, HC doesn’t have afternoon classes lined up for the afternoon. Once XL has retired to his room to relax, HC settles behind XL’s desk as students filter in for class to take the final exam.

(Students who had potions that morning entering the herbology room: “Oh shit-”)

Between classes, HC completes the tasks written in XL’s planner he left during lunch. Unfortunately, HC has a certain TA who sidles up next to him out of nowhere, whispering inconspicuously, “I know you have the hots for Xie Lao Shi.”

HC, who had been marking scrolls, jolts in shock. His left hand streaks across the parchment, leaving a red trail in its wake. 

(Student who receives his scroll with a huge red line: “The fuck???? Does this mean it’s wrong? Do I need to do it again?”)

HC ignores BY as he continues about his business. Except BY rolls a chair right beside the desk, her prying eyes making HC feel like he needs to cover more than just his right eye.

“Tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Liar.”

“Watch how you speak to your professor, young lady-”

“Watch how you speak to your professor, young lady,” BY repeats in a nasally voice. HC tightly clenches the pen in his hand. BY, unfazed about testing HC’s patience, sighs pitifully. “Sorry, Hua Lao Shi. I swear, I’m only trying to help.”

“Help with what?” HC asks, attempting to remain oblivious. BY gives HC a deadpan. “Ok, fine. How could you possibly help?”

“Well, I heard that Xie Lao Shi might be crushing on another professor-” HC chokes on his spit. “-and maybe you two…”

BY taps the tips of her pointer fingers together. 

“What!?” HC aggressively clears his throat. The scrolls are long forgotten now. “H-how do you know?”

“He told me,” BY reveals, smirking like the devil’s child.

“Who is it? Tell me more,” HC demands.

“Ah ah ah–you first.”

HC can’t believe this girl who has him cornered is the same timid third-year transfer student who couldn’t even look him in the eye. He bites his tongue, reluctant to discuss his person of interest with a seventeen-year-old. BY just sits there, looking unbothered as she examines her nails while waiting for HC to cave.

It doesn’t take more than ten minutes before HC admits it. 

“Fine. Yes, I like Xie Lao Shi.”

“What do you like about him?” BY asks immediately. HC itches to take points from Hufflepuff; what is this, an interrogation?

To no one’s surprise, HC spends the next half hour praising XL’s selling points (which are all of them) and subtly hinting how plans to ask the herbology professor out soon. BY unhelpfully inputs that HC needs to confess his feelings first. 

“And then he needs to accept your feelings too,” she adds, much to HC’s irritation. 

“I thought you were helping me?”

“I am,” BY smiles innocently. “By listening.”

“You’re not going to tell me who…?” HC falls silent, glaring at the last scroll he finished grading. A glance at his watch indicates there are fifteen minutes left before the final class of the day begins.

“Of course not. I don’t go around spilling professors’ secrets, especially Xie Lao Shi’s,” BY says. HC nods in resignation. 

BY doesn’t tell HC shit in the end, yet somehow made him unload a few things about his feelings regarding XL. HC supposes she was right about the listening part. 

Must be some sort of witchcraft. (HC tells himself that XL definitely would’ve laughed at this thought.)

Strangely, HC feels better after this little confessional session. Though he is incredibly curious as to who has caught XL’s eye in this school. HC’s heart painfully twists in on itself at the possibility that it’s anyone but him. 

HC desperately hopes BY’s rule about not sharing secrets applies to him as well. 

《III》

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hualian #hualian au #xie lian #hua cheng #HP AU #cerdrabbles #TBC #Banyue is menace #she and HC are close though #XL simps club #no I still don’t support JKR

[neshabeingchildish]

Poly, Wanna? Ch. 12

Since Tumblr is experiencing things... Idek if anybody will be able to see this. @chenoahchantel @adorkable-blackgirl @henry-p-fart @up-the-tube

I haven’t done this in a while, or for her yet, but I wanted to dedicate this chapter to lil’ mama Lizzie. Thank you for being a lil’ goofball source of goodness on a daily basis. Thanks for the group chat. I’m the oldest human there, but it’s such a good collection of good kiddos. 

Home

"Hi. I know that we can't really discuss the nature of the other work for the show but this confessional seat is pretty much where I've been laying down my burdens so that's what's going to happen today. I think I finally realized something about the workforce. One of the reasons that I haven't been able to stay in the labs, that I haven't been able to put up with a lot of the crap that they expect you to put up with..  I feel like it's mundane and not very direct results. Sure something that I work on right now may help somebody one day, but whenever I work here whatever mark that I did, helped someone THAT day. I was having adventures and making a difference in a pretty regular basis and the entire time, I was simply trying to get a paycheck and also help others. Now, the help that I give others is a slow process and the journey includes pompous, pretentious dudes that insist that they're better, smarter, and more experienced than you, therefore, you don't even always get approved to do the work that you COULD do. When I worked here, my supervisor encouraged me to test things out and he admitted that I'm smarter than him. I've been smarter than everyone that I've ever worked under… but Schwoz is the only person who's ever validated that fact. Whenever I worked here, it was like a family. It was a community. Out in my fields of study, it's always a competition and I'm always clipped at the knees while the big name boys get their headstarts, their funding, their approvals, their awards and recognition… but, I'm a grown woman. I have to decide if I wanna push harder and drain myself just to catch up with them, or stay out of the way. 

Singing in nightclubs and serving drinks isn't beneath me, but my parents are right about one thing… it isn't what I worked so hard for all of these years. So I could give up on my years of studying and work and just find something that I'm passionate about, or work hard to be the best, even on an unfair playing field..  but in the meantime I will be settling back in here. I just feel so at home…" 

Whenever Captain Man and Mr. Feelgood came down the tubes, Charlotte was in the control panel, with Schwoz behind her, talking. "And if I had access to it, my research would make him look like the 20th century scientific charlatan that he is!"

"I support this!" Schwoz cheered.

Henry leaned over the two of them. "What's going on?"

"Charlotte's going to use my resources to stick it to the Man!" Schwoz said. 

Captain Man wondered, "What did I do, now?"

"The industry, Ray. You’d be surprised to learn that even in the scientific community, where everyone is there to further humanity with knowledge, truth and solutions, a lot of them are grossly prejudiced and oppressive,” Schwoz said, thinking about his own run ins with American scientists who felt like he knew less because they weren’t familiar with his country or his accent.

“I wouldn’t be surprised that people who went into the kind of work that was advanced at the violation of numerous enslaved African peoples and their descendants, not to mention several Jewish people and other marginalized groups who have been used as lab rats and sometimes still aren’t given viable scientific solutions to their needs,” Captain Man said, with a shrug.

Feelgood raised an eyebrow and wondered, “What have YOU been reading?”

Captain Man answered, “This bizarre story about me that for some reason had all of these science facts in it. I didn’t really get it, but the photos were GREAT!” Feelgood noticed Charlotte hiding a smile and he just HAD to know more, but needed to blow this bubble first and get comfortable.

When he was Henry again, he beckoned to Ray with a hand, “Alright, Dude. Let me see this story you speak of.”

Ray pulled out his phone and showed Henry an archive. It took Henry all of 15 seconds to realize that these were simply scientific and social justice essays that somebody had peppered in numerous photos of “The Most Handsome Man in Swellview EVER” and given titles such as, “Scientific Racism is an Ugly Part of Our Practices, But Ray Manchester is the Opposite of Ugly.” “This is interesting. It seems like the kind of thing to have a niche market of JUST YOU.” Henry told him.

“I follow it,” Charlotte and Schwoz both said. Schwoz with a shrug, as thought he OBVIOUSLY would follow such a thing. Charlotte, with a smile, because Henry knew good and damn well that these were her words. She added, “Along with Miss Shapen, Nurse Cohort, Mrs. Dunlop, YOUR MOM…” She listed off subscribers. “Piper hate follows to put things in the comments like, “I once saw him fuss with a squirrel and taunt it by saying, ‘I’ve got some nuts for you to choke on!’ which, in 3 years’ time is still the top comment on any of the posts.”

Ray groaned, “I would be insulted, but I got several ‘Do you have any nuts for me to choke on?’ messages, so Piper lost again.” He finished with a smile and headed to the auto snacker for a bucket of fries.

“Why would someone do this?” Henry asked, trying to hand Ray his phone back, but eventually gave up because of the huge size of fries and just stuck it in his pocket.

“Maybe, someone knew that there are certain people who would only be willing to receive information from such a source,” Charlotte said. 

*Holds up photograph of Ray. “Basically, if you ever want Ray Manchester to pay attention to something, the best way is to put his photo onto it. It started as an experiment, to be honest. I was trying to do a paper on narcissism for a psychology credit, and was using him as a study. But, then, I realized that I could actually get him to LEARN THINGS that I would have had to either accept that he never would or browbeat into him in the past. Now, Ray can recite to you statistics of scientific racism and how the medical field still fails minorities to this day, among other very important topics that his brain might have previously shut out.”

*Ray speaking. “Everything as harmless as poor lighting and unflattering makeup selections while on screen, to things as dangerous as not being able to detect signs of skin cancer in brown skinned patients! Right there, next to my smiling face and luxurious skin!” *Shakes his head. “I can probably trust a makeup artist or a doctor to take care of me, but Charlotte and her really hot mom might not!” *Shakes his head. “This world. It’s ugly. But you know who’s not? This guy.” *Holds up an article with the title: This World, It’s Ugly. But You Know Who’s Not? This Guy, with a photo of a young Ray in a horse sweater. “I don’t know where this person gets all of these photos, (*whispers) but they’re all perfect.”

.

Jasper and Charlotte had discussed the letters from Henry and she decided that she wasn’t sure if she wanted to read them, but told Jasper that if he felt the need to do so, he should. She and Henry were getting along pretty well and she worried that reading things that she had decided to try to move past might damage that and stir up strife and trauma that she wasn’t interested in. “If I were to say that I’m not curious about what Henry had to say for apparently 467 days, that would be an enormous lie. But, I’m also terrified of what finding out some of that might do to us. Jasper thinks that it needs to be done now, while everything is still new and fresh and it can’t hurt later. But… It can’t hurt later if he just burns them now, either.” *Shrugs her shoulders.

Charlotte still had leave of absence time from the doctor, even though she was fine, thanks to Schwoz. So, whenever Jasper and Henry were away, she was usually making herself pretty much at home and making the space a little more compatible with her. They hadn’t talked moving in together or anything, but… she hadn’t left yet and Jasper kept bringing more of their things over with each night that they spent there. She would chill in the Man Cave with Ray and Schwoz, work on her project that Schwoz was helping out with and back him up whenever the heroes got an alert. But, if Jasper was available, she spent her free time with him. And if the three of them were free, they spent that time together. The only times that she was with Henry alone was at night, when Jasper was bartending, on those nights that Swellview didn’t need their hero.

That was when the conversation came up again, “Are you ever gonna read them?” He wondered. She tensed up at the question, but blinked shortly afterwards and stared at him. He had been giving her a pedicure (since hers hadn’t gotten done at the spa that day) and he still felt bad about that. Plus, he had hella products for that at home. Between the two of them - her holistic healthcare and organic, natural, DIY beauty care, and his high maintenance grooming and wellness… This place was an apothecary, pharmacy, spa, gym… He’d even started making certain that he got handcrafted beers shipped in, since he knew that was what Jasper preferred to drink and he really wanted both of them to kinda… never wanna leave.

“How important is it to you that I read those letters? Are they worth my current peace of mind? Are they worth our current connection?” She asked.

He squeezed her foot affectionately and kissed it, “Nothing is worth that. I just didn’t know it NOT reading them would possibly risk that as well, perhaps?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. I’m not crazy about change. Things are already in the process of changing, but this change seems good. Do you think that whatever I read there would be a change for the better? Would it improve what is already happening, in any way? Or, do you just want me to have to know what you were going through while I was going through what I was going through, because I refused to grant you that attention whenever I was going through it?” Her foot was rested against his chest and he was stroking it lovingly, absentmindedly. She pulled it away gently and she shrugged his shoulders. “Well, when you can answer me that, I can answer your question. For right now, the answer is that I don’t want to do it. I can’t see how it would help anything.”

“I respect that.”

“I actually hate it.” - Henry

.

Jasper got home anywhere from 3-4:30 am, depending on how busy the lounge was or how much cleaning up he had to do. Usually, whenever he got home, Charlotte was asleep. Henry had a habit of waiting up for him. It was hard for him to sleep whenever he didn’t know that Jasp was home safe and staying awake made him less tired than interrupted sleep did. Charlotte sometimes slept in her bed, whenever she wanted to be immersed in her sleeping experience, unbothered and Jasper would join her whenever he got home. (His room was currently where he and Charlotte’s clean, but not folded laundry and other unpacked stuff was being stored. They lived in her room and visited Henry’s as frequently as though it were their own. 

His favorite nights were those when Charlotte didn’t necessarily want to be alone and slept in his bed. He still waited up for Jasper, but sometimes, she cuddled against him and went to sleep on him while he waited and played video games or watched something. Whenever Jasper would get home, Henry would be ready for bed and Jasper would generally wash up and come into bed, being the one who got to decide their placement for the night. Would he be in the middle? Would Henry? Would Charlotte? Whatever he chose, Henry was always happy, because they were both still there. 

Then there were the times that they were all home at night and got to settle into bed together! Rarely did one of the others suggest just going to their own room tonight, if all of them were there. They just went into Hen’s like it was the most natural thing in the world for all of them to be in bed together, sleeping and cuddled up - some nights just awake, talking in the candlelight until someone fell to sleep first and the other two gushed over them quietly. 

Actually, now that Henry thought about it… he had a different type of favorite night. Those nights whenever he had to leave for a mission before anybody went to bed, or when nobody else was there, and he came home, tired, weary, sore, etc… and they were both waiting for him. Either awake and worried because the mission seemed serious, or asleep in his bed, figuring that they would have been alerted if it had been something to worry about. 

Whenever he came home from a night of work and soothed away his pain and problems in a hot shower, knowing that within moments he could lay his head on a pillow or a person that he loved very much… ugh. Priceless.

.

Henry came into the dining room, from sessions in his office, to find Jasper at the table, with his letters, doing something with them. He didn’t want to interrupt… But, he appeared to possibly be destroying them and it was reflexive. “What are you doing?” He snapped. Jasper jumped and was clearly startled and taken back for a moment. Henry noticed, felt terrible, and calmed down. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” Softer, he wondered, “What are you doing, there?”

Jasper’s hands shook a little and he set a letter down in a stack, face down and said with a low voice, “Organizing these for Charlotte.”

“What do you mean organizing? They were dated and in order. Did you like drop the stack, or something?”

“No, Henry. I didn’t. I thought that you said these belonged to us, now?”

“I did. They do. I’m just curious.”

“If you must know, I’ve separated them into categories. These are angry. These are sad. These are blunt and realistic. These are the ones that are the sweetest. They’re going into this scrapbook that I’m making for Charlotte. These other ones are going to be possibly shelved, possibly explored at her convenience. She’ll likely want to get into a certain headspace, cleanse them of their energy and ground herself before attempting to look at them. I don’t want her triggered whenever she tries to!” His voice got louder as he explained, until he was almost yelling. He rolled his eyes at Henry and began to collect his stuff.

“Where are you going?”

“Where you aren’t gonna come fussing at me just because Charlotte’s not around.”

“That’s not what I… Jasper, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like I was fussing. Thank you for doing this. It’s so thoughtful and sweet. Charlotte is lucky to have you.”

“Yep,” Jasper said, angrily and kept going.

“Where is she, anyway?” 

“In the Man Cave. Go spin this however you need to.”

“I’m not…” Henry rubbed his eyes, frustrated as Jasper went into his room and slammed the door. 

“I can only guess that he recently read Day 273 recently…”

*Jasper taking deep breaths and clenching the air in front of his face to strengthen and center himself, then clears his throat. “Day 273. Dear Charlotte, I feel like I shouldn’t write that I love you anymore. I feel like I maybe should stop this altogether. Jasper and I are getting closer than I expected and it is starting to scare the hell out of me. I found myself wishing that I had you around to talk to about it. I found myself questioning if I was moving on from you and wondering if I should. Jasper is great. He’s everything right in the world and he seems to be really into me. I wish that I could love him, but I feel like I’d be betraying you again. Which… That’s hella stupid, right? We’re fucking. That’s betrayal, right? Or, is it okay, because I never really had feelings for him? He told me that he loves me recently. I told him that I love him too. I didn’t mean it like that, but I didn’t really wanna get into it. I would feel so much better if I thought that I could have your blessing. I know that it hurts him the way that I never quite let him in, but I can’t help it. It always feels like he’s trying to take your place, but I don’t want anybody else to take that place. Not even Jasper. I care about him, but… He’s just not you, never will be, and I don’t know if I could ever see him the way he wants me to, because I don’t know how low that would be of a blow to you. He said that you’ve cut him out now, too. I guess after 3 months of fucking your ex he felt obliged to share that info with you. I already feel like you probably hate me more. If you didn’t feel some type of way about it, you wouldn’t have blocked him. You still care! And knowing that, I just… I can’t move on. I’m not gonna say that I love you anymore. But, I know that you care..” *Slams down the paper into the “blunt and realistic” stack.

Henry came to the Man Cave and Charlotte was looking at her phone, and seemingly about to go - wrapping things up with Schwoz. “Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?” He wondered. 

She sighed and shook her head, “I’m sorry, Henry. I have to go see about Jasper.”

“I figured. I just wanted to say…”

“Say it on the way, Dude. Booty Bear is having a meltdown. What happened?”

“I think it's the letters. One in particular…” Henry said and ran a hand through his hair. “There was a time, about six months in when I was thinking about giving me and Jasper an actual try and I wrote to you about it, but basically decided not to.”

“This is why I don’t really understand WHY those letters ever had to leave your goddamn possession!” She fumed and shook her head as they got on the elevator. “Why would ever hand him something like that?”

“I figured it was better for it to happen now than it come out later somehow and what happened with you happened with him, or with both of you. I… am trying to hard to get everything out in the open and clarified and comprehended. We can’t ever become, if we don’t deal with the shit.” He fought to not cry. The last time he cried when he didn’t have a right, it only pissed her off. He shook his head and whispered, “I almost fucking died. I still have scars from that night. I still have nightmares sometimes. And, even though I was hostage for all those hours and ultimately had to fucking kill someone…”He clenched his fists, “That wasn’t the worst part of the night.” He started laughing and turned to face the wall, because he knew that the tears were coming. 

“Hen…”

“No. Sorry… I just… Go, um… Go make sure he’s okay. Tell him I’m sorry and I love him, K?” She rubbed Henry’s chest and nodded, then pulled him in for a hug. The elevator doors opened and Jasper was standing there. He slumped his shoulders and sighed. Charlotte patted Henry on the back and got off to check on Jasper. Henry went back down.

“I coulda done without seeing that today,” Jasper admitted.

“Yeah. I coulda done without you actually reading those stupid letters, but Henry said something that made me… give pause. I’ve been thinking that this was so important to him because I never let him tell me how he felt. Do you think maybe it’s so important to him because now that he’s said it, he doesn’t want it to seem like secrets that he’s keeping from us? He doesn’t want another night like that night… and I never knew how bad it had been for him. I never gave him a chance to speak. I was so done that I didn’t even think about what he’d been through. I didn’t even weigh it out against what I was feeling. I was so hurt…”

“You had every right to be hurt. You had every right to feel how you felt and do what you did, Charlotte. And, you’ve had no real reason to give him another chance, but here we are, seemingly doing just that. We’re… in a relationship with him. You realize that, right? It’s like the one that I had with him, where shit is really not spoken about and a little unclear, but we all know good and goddamned well that it’s a thing that’s happening. I just… Do you think that I’m here because he wants you and he knows he has to have me as part of the package? Do you think that he… Do you think that he could ever love me anywhere near the level that he loves you?” Jasper’s eyes were watery.

“Yeah. I think that he does love you that much. I think that those letters are a part of his past. I think that how he hurt you is a part of your past. I think that my anger at him is a part of my past. They’re parts that we have to fucking figure out, J. But… They’re the past, still. He told me himself he’s sorry and he loves you. Look. Let’s do this… Let’s… take those letters that both of you have been obsessed with for the past couple of weeks and let’s just… figure out at least those parts together. The three of us. How does that sound?”

“You said that you didn’t want to do that. You didn’t want to stir up any bad emotions. I don’t want you to do that for me, Charlotte.”

“Well… I don’t want to do it, but I know that I have to. For us.”

He took her into a hug. “You’re always gonna love me, even if it turns out that he doesn’t, right? And if I feel heartbroken by that, you won’t be mad and me and will know that it doesn’t mean that I don’t love you, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay. Thank you. Henry snapped at me tonight and I just… I’d already been transported to that time with the letters and hearing him speak to me harshly just took me deeper in. He can’t talk to me like that.”

“He sure can’t and I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind about it, too! Then, we’re all gonna detox, okay?” Jasper nodded. She kissed him on the cheek and texted Henry.

Come home now. We all gotta talk.

#Poly Wanna #Nesha HD Fics #henry danger #henry hart #charlotte page #jasper dunlop #hd ot3

[ts-2020-olympics]

EPISODE 1 - “My Legs Were Not Qwoperating” - Kathy (Part 2)

no. jk here.

So, it’s morning. I look around at our camp, and see everyone is at work. Karen is painting their flag and using safety scissors to cut out Monty’s head, Kevin is chanting to himself in the corner, Stoner’s been asleep so we buried him in the sand up to his neck and then sculpted a sand castle around him. Tommy is just trying to make eye contact with anyone he can and so I’m...avoiding that. I’d say we are solid but that’s probably not the truth, and so that kind of stinks. I’m hoping the newbies really fuck up, and I know that’s harsh but...that’s showbiz, babe!! Speaking of newbies I still haven’t talked to a few of them.  Emma like zoomed away the first day and I’ve given up on talking to her. Hope she goes first. That’s all I got for now, going to eat breakfast I will continue this rant later.

my truth is that i haven’t played an org game in so long i forgot i was playing and then remembered an hour ago and tried to do this wack qwop game hsksksj! my legs were not qwoperating 

I see there's an arena going on! I might go there first if the rest of the team is okay with it - gives me a chance to scope things out and get a feel for the area. I'm excited!

WE WON THE FUCKING CHALLEEEENGE AAAAA NOT ONLY DID WE WIN BUT WE KILLT IT WE SCORED 12 AND EVERYONE ELSE GOT LIKE 8 AND 5 OHMYGOOOD IM NOT GONNA BE FIRST OUT YALL IM SHAKING I CANT BELIEVE GSJDKDVDSNDBWSKHSD okAy okay so thank god bc my tribe has like no drama so our vote would’ve been really difficult and that gives me more time to think about my possible advantage and the possible bonds here. 

so while I am safe I still have to game a little bit and talk to the people I’ve been talking with who are going to tribal like Sammy and Jordan, funny enough who are on the same tribe.... maybe I can get them to protect each other..... hm

Well we lost because of technicalities, I choose to blame that. This tribe is apparently extremely quiet to each other, so the fact that I messaged everyone hello this morning, nearly 48 hours after the start, I am SOMEHOW one of the best social players here. Challenges are generally my strength, we got last in QWOP, so backup is social game in a social ORG. I can be in some danger here, but I think I have a TRusuT sclusTER to keep myself here. As is necessary. I don't care who goes, I have a preference, but I don't really want to set a goal right now. Flexibility is key.

I'm literally PISSED. I'm fuming right now, like wtf? OK so I haven't confessed anything yet because my tribe has been SO quiet. I've honestly talked a lot more to some of the people from ONE WORLD than I have from some of the people from my own tribe... and I'm not crazy okay? It's NOT my fault. I put in effort with these people... But some of these people are just DRY! Drier than the Sahara Desert! Drier than my chappy ass lips! They can't hold a conversation, and that's obnoxious. I'm not going to respond to you if your message has literally nothing in it worth responding to, that's why most of my messages will either have a follow-up question, or something actually of substance to comment on/reply to... YOU SHOULD DO THE SAME SO WE CAN ACTUALLY SPEAK AND MAINTAIN A CONSISTENT DIALOGUE!!!!!!! But NOOOOOOO, my tribe decides to not speak... MOVING ON! The only people I've had good conversations with really are Juls and Em, and lo and behold, Em does lit rally nothing in this challenge, which sucks because I'm afraid that may put a target on her back. But I'm not sure, I definitely will vote with her and I think Juls will too. I'll move onto that later but I wanna talk about why I'm fucking LIVID RIGHT NOW. I literally made SO many suggestions on how we could tweak who does what in this challenge, or what we do on certain parts. Now I'm going to admit a TINY bit of fault here, in that I didn't say my suggestions on the tribe flag. There are some things I think we could've done to make it better, but I love Juls, and everyone had already told her it was great, so I didn't wanna make her feel that I didn't like it or was over criticizing. So I didn't say anything. That was my bad. BUT EVERYTHING ELSE, LUV? I said We should guess lower than 610... Now granted my even 600 guess still would've been too low to win, BUT AT LEAST IT WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN OVERBOARD! HMPPHH!!!!! Or maybe we could've compromised on 605 if people hadnt IGNORED ME!!!! IDK!??!?!?! Further than that, I asked for different tweaking on the chant and nobody gave any suggestions. I'm not saying we would've won or anything had I taken the lead or that I was doing everything the right way,  obviously I wasn't since my chant got 3rd, but what I'm saying is once it became obvious the challenge was going to be about group participation and suggestion, our tribe needed to unify. Everyone in the tribe needed to have a clearer vision and talk to eachother and actually put in the EFFORT that this stuff requires. Which I'm admitting my own error, in not doing that with the flag. But our tribe was just so quiet and silent before now, which sent me down a paranoid spiral, that I was super fucking worried about my place in the tribe or where things were heading. Now I realize I'm in a good position on the tribe for sure, it's just that our tribe is STRUGGLING. ON THE (Mr.) BRIGHTSIDE!!! We lost by a tiebreaker guess, and only by 4 points.... and I'm pretty close with Juls, and it seems like a target will probably fall pretty easily onto Billy. He had the worst QWOP score, described himself as arrogant in his own intro, and just seems.. critical of others. He gives off a strange vibe. If it's not him, I'm pretty sure it'd end up being Jacob or Em. I feel that me and Juls are safe which is all that I can hope for on a tribe this freaking tiny, I instantly connected with Juls over our love of anime, the fact her name is the same as Euphoria Jules, and other stuff. As far as One World goes, I honestly keep forgetting it exists. I haven't reached out to too many of the others but have talked back to those who talk to me and it's been generally decent. I get along well with other Jacob, the not pie one. Caeleb I already know from before this and so I feel like we'd def work together, and I get good vibes from a lot of these people like Eve, Nicole, Ben, etc. Honestly I'm just so frustrated right now because things have been quiet and nervous and I'm PARANOID, and my tribe was so close to winning but fucked it up over minor things we could've tweaked had we just tried a little harder and communicated a little more. ugh, this SUCKS. now my first legacy in Tumblr Survivor is a mediocre chant (i honestly really like it and i put a LOT OF THOUGHT INTO IT OKAY....) and a trip to tribal council *Sobs* Here's hoping things take a positive turn from here...? It could always be the Bronze before my Gold! ~Hamfisted olympics metaphor~

Love my tribe a lot! However, i still feel on the outside somewhat tho.... Idk this is a lot for me I just hope we win until a swap or whatever its called ahh

Alright, Darcy back here with yet another confessional!   Here is a little update since I last posted confessional, mainly the biggest difference is now I have an ally formed with Ben.   At least, I made a deal with Ben yesterday proposing just the generic looking after one another ordeal, then going to give it some time and maybe question Beck about forming an alliance, since I've been connecting with her even more past bit, but don't want to go too fast and end up asking half my tribe right away to work with me, as I don't want to be seen as playing hard out the gate and make myself a target.   Meanwhile, I decided to give the Olympic Village searching a shot, but alas was no luck in the cafeteria cabinets, so will just have to try my luck again in the future rounds.   Thinking of searching either the South or North end of Village next round, but we shall see.   Anyways, I'm glad my tribe won Immunity, so don't have to go to tribal this round, and this Olympic Arena twist sounds great, essentially one person from each tribe goes to the Arena, I believe for the immune tribes just 1 person is selected to go to the Arena, and for the losing tribes, the two voted out go to arena, where the winner of the voted out people come back in the game, and loser is out of the game for good.   Think I read that all right, but maybe won't hurt to give it another read to double check.   For now though, I shall go, so will see you all with my next confessional.

Fuck having to go to tribal first. I don’t like having to send someone home when I don’t even really know who I’m playing with yet. 

Seems like Billy pulling the "I don't want to make any moves" to me was surprisingly bullshit. Who would've thunk. I think everyone is fine with voting out Billy here, I didn't really want to initially, but yeah, uh no. I could be in danger, but if everyone is honest here, I should be fine. Fingers crossed. "I'm either going to be first boot or win" - Pia Miranda

So, the first tribal is in a bit and we were almost sent there but managed to pull through in the tiebreaker! I hope that opens some of my tribemates eyes (lets be real, just Stoner who hasn’t been doing much of anything!) Being in One World but none of the newbies talking to me is still wild to me, half of them still haven’t even accepted my contact request. Yet they’re plenty active in the chat, so what gives? Anyway, I hope it’s just that they are intimidated by the very fact that I am beauty, and grace, and Miss United States. I hope we can win the next round, hopefully first or second place so we don’t have a close call again. We are trying to get Chris to go to the Arena so he can get us that 20% but he hasn’t answered so...what gives? On the alliance front I’m good with Kevin and Karen tribewise , the bigger picture is Kevin, Jacob and Sammy want to align and then we will have a bigger alliance that includes Beck, Juls and Eve. Eventually I might wanna break off and align with Jules and Eve, but having bigger targets around is essential. Anyway that’s all I got for now. I should start making video confessionals AS THINGS ARE HAPPENING. Ya know? Anyway toodles for now see ya next round. OH, and I’m hoping Jules and Jacob are safe this tribal :( love them and hope we can work together going forward. 

Hiiii, arena results are about to come in so I'm just gonna drop a quickie confessional before that happens. I don't honestly remember how much I talked about the strategy and gameplay that was going on, so I'll give you a quick rebriefing of that. I'm really close with Juls. Em I like, but I want more out of her. Jacob is quiet, but inoffensive. Billy, I actually like him, but there are certain things about him that just.. Rub me (and others) a strange way and that's why we voted him out because certain things he did just didn't quite gel with the rest of the team. If he does return from the arena though, it's possibly I may vouch for him over Jacob because Jacob... HE JUST NEEDS TO TALK!!! But idk. One world still SUCKS and is dragging me through the MUD because nobody wants to do cross-tribe talking me included but that gets me paranoid as FUCK, luv. About the live tribal, it was fun! My camera angle was awkward and I was soo nervous though, but I think I was still able to hold it together relatively well, act normal, and give semi-decent answers. Will definitely be improving my live tribal performance for next time so I can be a bad ass bitch on call, it's GOING to happen... dskfdsf. I love Emma on call/video sooooo much, But on text she's kind of dry. Maybe I need to ask her if I can call her sometime, but I haven't done a call for a game like this in a looong time. I'm a bit nervous about that. But yeah. I'm looking forward to the game... The first tribal just makes everything real, and you realize, oh shit, we're playing Survivor. And I forgot how thrilling it was to play in a live, video environment like that, it just grips you and it feels so much more intense than when wiki results are just posted in chat and you don't have to deal with physically seeing the person you're voting out, talking to them with your actual voice, etc. All that stuff just makes the experience that much more realistic and it's so intense and fun. I'm ready to get this game on (Btw fuck the arena twist)

hey guys im really loving this game so far... keep up the good work!

i didn’t appreciate the attitude billy gave me whenever i tried to help the team out but! i’m willing to get over it because he is a nice guy. i feel fairly comfortable with my team and i’m just hoping we can avoid another tribal! 

Hello! I can not believe I'm back for a 6th time on Tumblr Survivor this is so crazy! Especially for an Olympic season because I vowed to myself that I would never do a season again that was more than 20 people after being in Japan. Now that I'm back I'm ready to play, I haven't really came into this season with a strategy but if I did it would have changed because this is a One World season and now with the arena twist I'm sweating. One World makes the season super social (probably one of my least favorite twists) it's very easy for this season to let pre-mades and majorities take over just like that and let underdogs like me in this season to get taken out especially taken out early. So I have been social not only with me but a few people on different tribes but not too much. I don't want to seem like I'm playing too hard but I wanna build relationships before swaps happen so that people choose to ally with me (A WINNER) over a newbie or a returnee who hasn't won because I already have a big target on my back. With how the tribe divisions are it gives the newbies the biggest advantage with 15 newbies compared to 5 winners and 5 non-winner returnees, which isn't bad in a Fan vs. Favorite season because the ratio is even with returnees and newbies. However, now that I'm in the minority and also labeled a WINNER, I have to do damage control to lower my target but most importantly integrate with other people which is hard because I'm not the best social player and I know that's my weakness but I still have to attempt. In terms of my own tribe I'm closest to Kevin, when I talk to him we have a good conversation I probably already irritate him but I think out of everyone I can put my trust in him the most compared to everyone else. I think having one good ally is how I want to approach this season due to the arena twist I don't want to come across as running the tribe especially the winners tribe incase we do go to tribal because if I vote in the majority and that person stays they are immune and will be mad and spill the beans about the tribe, and I want that person to be the least mad at me so the focus is not on me. So having overall good vibes and 1 strong connection is a good strategy for the long term game. It might put me at risk for being voted out in the short term but I want to play the long-term game. Preferably if it is up to me I'd want Nicole to be the next closest to Kevin and myself without myself having to make an official deal with Nicole so I'm not seen as the ringleader. Kevin says he wants Stoner to be the first one voted out on our tribe but honestly I rather it be Karen. Stoner has the reputation keeps his target bigger than the rest and I think Karen has the better chance of flipping on the winners and succeeding than Stoner does. So my target is Karen if we do lose. I also believe that there may be an alliance with Nicole, Kevin, and Karen which I hope is not an actual alliance because that's bad news for me. I hope we don't go to tribal because I don't wanna go to a tribal with only 5 people. Wish me luck!

Whew it has been one round and i've fucked up so much its not even funny. its a little funny. anyways i start this game on a tribe of 5, i allign with connor who ive never played a game with and find some similar common ground, and with jacob who seems chill. we lose the first challenge sucks and all hell breaks loose, long story short fuck sammy. I'm trying to work my way back in caeleb and jacobs good graces. its gonna be a rocky road, but its one i've driven before

#zestypowerfuluniqueflavorfulhealthy #confessionals

[djclawson]

3 am is as good a time as any to write a confessional on asexuality

I am asexual.

I did not know this until about my early thirties. I didn’t know what asexuality was until I was reading a Dan Savage column where he mentioned it in passing, and I decided to google the term, and after spending five minutes at the Aven site I said, “Oh. That’s me.”

Sexuality was something I always thought would “turn on” at a certain point in my life. I grew up in the 90′s, during the AIDS crisis, so we had a pretty graphic and aggressive education about STDs and safe sex. We had to memorize the failure rates of different types of birth control at preventing STDs, from abstinence (the only thing at 100%) to latex condemns (99.98%, which I’ve since learned was high), to saran wrap, which was apparently a thing and there was a number for it. My private school was secular and progressive and didn’t tell us not to have sex, but made it very clear that with uncurable STDs out there, if we had sex, we were taking our lives and our hands and we needed to take using protection seriously. After one class, I walked out with a friend and we both vowed never to have sex because it just sounded so scary and not worth the hassle. I felt a kinship with her. A few years pass, and my friends are talking casually about having sex, and I’m like, what did I miss?

I first asked a psychiatrist I was seeing for depression about it at 24. I asked him when I was going to hit puberty, essentially, in terms of being interested in sex. Was I just a slow learner? He said, “No, it should have happened already.” He didn’t know what to do with the information I’d given him, because I couldn’t express my befuddlement properly.

I didn’t date, because as an Orthodox Jew, dating leads to marriage, and marriage had sex in it, and I didn’t want any of that. And I had no real interest in marriage or kids. As I got older, this got to be more and more of a problem. When I learned what asexuality was, I rushed to my psychiatrist (a different one because I was living elsewhere) and he said, “Everyone has sexuality, so we have to determine, where did yours go?” And there were fruitless sessions of he asking me about my past, as if there was a rape or molestation in childhood that I hadn’t mentioned or had repressed, and I insisted there wasn’t, over and over again. Eventually, I stopped seeing him, and I was so frustrated that I was rude about it and lashed out at him, and to this day, I feel bad about it, and ashamed, but too scared to go back even in letter form to apologize, afraid of opening old wounds. To my new psychiatrist, I said, “If you don’t believe in asexuality, we’re done.” She said she did, and we had a good relationship from there, and dealt with other problems.

I got engaged. He was older than me, and had children from a previous marriage. He said my asexuality was not a problem, and if we tried sex after marriage and I didn’t like it, we wouldn’t do it, and he could do without. I don’t think he was actively lying, but I think it would have been unfair. I was so terrified of my wedding night (or the nights after, whenever it happened) that it cast a pall over the wedding planning in my mind.

We broke up for reasons entirely unrelated to my sexuality, and my first thought past the pain of the decision was, “I’m free! I don’t have to have sex!” It was such a weight off my shoulders. I got some time to breathe before the pressure was back on from my mother, who was furious that I wasn’t dated. I came out to her, and she did not believe it was a thing, and still doesn’t believe that I am asexual.

The only people who seem to understand are other queer people (some of whom don’t think asexuality belongs in the queer category), but they at least have either found people to be with or are looking. They can be supportive but they cannot take away my loneliness. I both want to be alone and want to be accepted in society for being alone, and it seems it would be just easier to have a partner for so many reasons, but all I want is a really good friend. And to find one who is male, also an Orthodox Jew, and willing to marry me platonically just seems impossible. I feel out of place with the people my age, who are all married or at least divorced. To be married in Judaism (and society in general) is to be an adult. There are schools I can’t go to because they’re only for married women. There are subjects I can’t teach to other Jews because I’m not married.

It is a strange thing to feel desperately alone and want to be alone at the same time. Even books and comics and blogs about asexuality usually reach a point where the person somehow finds someone else who is asexual and sex repulsed. The positive side of me says, “There’s someone for you, too,” and the realistic side says, “You have to compromise. And you have to be social to meet people. You can’t be yourself.”

I don’t feel broken anymore because I don’t want sex, but I do feel like society has no place for me as an educated, unmarried woman with no children. No religion in the world is happy with unmarried women. Either they get married or they got locked away in convents, and Judaism has no convents.

I don’t want sex. I don’t even necessarily want a partner. I just want a place. I want my seat at the table.

#asexuality #pride

[daughterofamercifulfather-blog]

Christmas Eve Night, 2016- St. Anthony and the Donkey Statue at the Franciscan Shrine of St. Anthony. 

My Shrine of Solitude- The Place of Miracles....An Angelic Voice In Jeopardy. 

Since my last post worked so well on trying to find a link of Padre Pio and Sunflowers [insert eye roll], I am for, who knows why, attempting to do this, again. As I said the first time, I don’t know how to do this site. Maybe this is not for asking, maybe people can’t help? I don’t know, but I’ve got to do something!  

I may appear pious and prayerful, but I am not. I am in a rush to try and just start Christmas shopping, make mass, get in Confessions, pray, to pray and pray for my beloved friend, for her health and conversion.With so little time, little sleep, wanting to give up, I can’t. And I know it’s all up to Jesus, but I have to pray, that’s all I can do. And I get mad because more problems happen that I suddenly don’t know about, I lash out at someone because I am trying to fix it and am exhausted, have gotten no where, so I have to go make amends, and back to the confessional I go. But this woman who means the world to so many in the world that was diaganosed out of the blue with stage 4 pancreatic cancer, on the day of historic terror- September 11. Or, as I will know call it, “The Day My World Went Purple (that’s the awareness color for pancreatic cancer).”. I did not know what a pancreas even was before I learned of her diagnosis, which came at the worst time, not that any time would be appropriate. But, I mean I was going through it, really, and a week before an ending that I thought would end torture (that was only just beginning, which I’ve had to separate from and give to Jesus for my friend, but ultimately for myself), is when I find out this woman, who was  my first co-worker in my first “real-world” job out of college, along with her sister. 

To make a long story short (as this isn’t on this topic and I tend to write lengthy these days that makes no sense as I’m up all night doing or praying, and not getting anywhere!), after getting a B.A. degree in Sociology, otherwise known as “pessimism”, but with a concern for the social welfare of others- to the extreme (blame Mitch Albom and Tuesday’s with Morrie, I wanted to be him, I wanted what he had, and I did get it, except a love of sports, ability to play piano, the ability to write like him and the ability to make a difference despite any efforts without going nuts), I naively, and perhaps even with pride, thought I would have people knocking on my door to offer me a position now that I had a degree. I had worked in politics in college, learned fundraising, campaign lingo, legislative initiatives, drafting various correspondence, etc., as that was what I originally was going to get into- I wanted to be an adopted Kennedy, only I don’t have the jaw line. And while our politics are not the same, while I am much more Catholic than I was at first, though always was an elephant due to our Governor at the time, but the job I was at never asked and I never told!  And truthfully, I was in the middle, happily like Switzerland. But, I pathetically thought with that experience, in a recession, unlike any we had ever faced, I would have to do nothing. And then, once Obama was elected, and the country was happy, and then the excitement wore off, I was still at home. Then came looking for a job, and looking. Then desperation and depression. Until, I finally, after almost 2 years stumbled upon what seemed perfect- an advocacy like job working with those with intellectual disabilities, running a department where I’d write funding plans and and speak up for benefits these individuals needed. NOPE! Not it. My first day on the job, along with 2 others,  was the first of a 6 week orientation where I met the Director of Nursing, who came in, took out a bowl, a Tupperware of cereal, and milk and ate her breakfast, as she had been on duty all night, while explaining that we had to have our Med Tech Certification since we would be working in the building with those with intellectual disabilities and be on an on-call rotation, so we needed it “just in case.” I thought she was absolutely insane- and I had just received a message on my phone about another job (when I had heard nothing for 2 years, and desperately needed to call these people back!). But, I stayed, and on about the 2nd or 3rd day of her training she took us to the building down the street, and introduced myself, the new residential coordinator and one of the young girls that would be working in the Day Program to this laid back, tall blonde, who was the Day Program Coordinator, whose name, was “Woody.” And again, I thought, I need to leave. But, that was a nickname...from childhood, as it turns out they were sisters, and the Day Program Coordinator was rather new herself. After the training, which I didn’t know I needed any of that and still am scarred from it, and cannot look at a grapefruit without thinking of an enema (don’t ask!), I got to work. My position was a coordinator that ran what one would think was easy- a department for those that had mild intellectual disabilities, could live on their own with mentor hours, or staff I supervised that gave a few hours a week to take one grocery shopping, running errands to keeping them occupied. Or, it also meant, children, those under 21, living at home in the care of their parents, who were still getting special education services at school. But, it wasn’t that simple. 10-15% of my time was writing funding plans which I loved! There were other issues, most staff was out on leave due to babies or family leave. But the clients, as mild as their intellectual disability was, all the more was their mental illness. I have a deep sympathy and empathy for anyone with a mood disorder and that is a cause I will advocate for, as I, too, have one. I started antidepressants that November, after waiting so long and arguing to not want to take them. I then needed anti-anxiety meds, and I’ve been on them ever since. The job was a nightmare, I saw horrors no one should see, or experience. And I had no choice but to quit. If it was not for the woman whose office was next door, I would never have made it through any day of the week. She had a grace about her. And the crazy sister, well, they both are crazy, but they were the most normal in a place that wasn’t operating things correctly. The Director of Nursing, because she knew what went on and with whom and what was right called the higher ups, always in another building out on their violations, and was wrongfully demoted and she left. I followed suit, but it took gusto to get out, because the guilt to leave the clients was the worst. They were a handful, in my department, they could have killed me with kindness, with heartache, with a sharp tongue to a shovel, but I loved them. And 2 weeks before I was to depart, giving 4 weeks as a supervisor, one had to be admitted to the psychiatric hospital and I requested to extend that 2 more weeks, to make sure that client that really wore me down, to drinking a bottle of vodka every night, was okay. It was granted, and she was okay. And I left, but not a week later I ended up in the hospital for my first suicide attempt.

It is NOT the job that did it, while yes it played a part, I was a depressed person. The idea of leaving to go sit at home and apply for jobs didn’t sit well with me, or the idea of another additional medication, as it made it seem like I failed everything. But you find out things quickly when moments like that happen, who cares and who doesn’t. Who are your friends, and who are not. When the world walked away, when there was not a soul in sight, it was my co-worker, turned friend, turned family, who plopped herself down and didn’t leave. Annoying as that was. It was her, that was there in my darkest, and not my only one, moment. And as if that wasn’t enough, after family a brutal, and mandatory, though I was an adult, meeting, when you have lovely and wonderful parents who just don’t get it, but promise a stress free home, no annoyances, and some rest, the day of discharge, your Mom finds out after a bunch of negative tests, that she does in fact have a very rare form, one that only 1% of the population gets, of Breast Cancer. So, while my Mom’s health is certainly important, all those promises- out the window. But, the ones to keep them, as well as care for my Mom, make sure she had answers on medicines after a mastectomy to anything she needed, while making sure I got out of the house for weekends away to the beach or “Girls’ Night” was my family- the two crazy sisters. And when I needed a primary doctor, my next door office co-worker turned beloved friend, convinced the most popular doctor to accept me when she could no longer take on new patients, it was who her and her sister went to, who we sadly are losing, as of 12/31 because while young and top-rated, it’s too much paperwork and too many rules on how a physician can treat a patient. And that was a project, I should have been able to fix, but I didn’t have time, not with my sick friend and praying and deaths to all these other disasters. My appointment was last Monday, and it was AWFUL. See, I’ve gone on too long, this is never going to work- but no one can describe this beautiful soul and everything she has been through. That’s not her story, not in the least. And pancreatic cancer, I’ve done the research, I’ve joined the groups and it’s awful. No advances, the statistics are crazy, the median survival rate for stage 4, well look that up, I can’t. And all she can get is chemo, because her cancer is on the tail, she cannot get something called a whipple, she cannot get radiation, she can just get chemo. And it’s already spread, to her kidneys, and lymph nodes (if that’s how you spell?) And that’s all I will say, as this wasn’t meant to be on here, but, you know, this is about St. Anthony and his miraculous intercession, so if someone is inclined, here is a link to a GoFundMe page for her medical expenses, that I am not responsible for making up, the credit belongs to someone else. And prayers always work, too. I’m maxed out, financially, not prayer wise, but God gives us all we need, so I have to give that worry up, too.   Until then, I will be getting healed and forgiving and seeking forgiveness as quickly as I can, from the code of one of the greatest mystics of our time. For more on the mystic, you’d have to read my first post, and if you do know the link on sunflowers and Padre Pio, please by all means, as that’s for another friend. 

But, the real meaning behind this post was because, years ago, after this work situation, after being a binge drinker and crashing into a table one night before a family wedding, my oldest cousin who was getting married for the 2nd time after having a baby with her now husband and having recovered from drug addiction. It was not that reason for what was going to be the cause of lots of complaining from judgmental and opinionated, maternal aunts, mostly just two, who I can only pray for, but that it was a bi-racial wedding. Which doesn’t make any sense, at all. I really had scared my parents. And it wasn’t just the wedding, my Mom was still dealing with cancer, well recovery now (Thanks to God!), with one more surgery to go. And I had no job. Our family goes way back with a walking saint, a prison chaplain, a minister to the homeless and one who has literally nothing- he gives everything away to others. When my Mom and her family met him, he was a seminarian, assigned to their family church across the street. So, he performs everything,from weddings, to baptisms of all the grandchildren. Now, its weddings of grandchildren and baptisms of great-grandchildren. The last thing he presided over for our family was this past June, my grandmothers funeral. But, he also helped those in our family in moments of crisis, an aunt (a judgmental one), the cousin whose wedding he presided and that night as he went to leave I knew I needed help, and he gave me his number. It took being drunk to call him and a couple weeks, but I did. And I owe him my life (side note: because I’ve been up all night, trying to type this and figure what to say, I just remember, he gave me his favorite prayer, because I’m such a worrier. I have it in my old wallet, as he will be a saint, but it was his favorite! And, I don’t recall what it was, but it was a St. Anthony one...I will have to go find it now to see, how odd, yet, not).

And who he has brought in it, including a woman, a convert who was an atheist who became pious, way more than a girl educated in the Catholic School Systems her whole life that took me randomly one day to a festival, a celebration honoring St. Anthony of Padua’s Feast Day, in which I went to humor her. But, my gosh I fell in love! And that became my new home, my sanctuary, my resting place. I love all the friars, I love the grounds and it is truly a place of miracles. You can’t belong to a shrine, but I go regularly, a two hour drive because it’s my church family. And I could go on about so many wonderful, miraculous things that happened. But, I can easily tell you my first miracle, it was hearing the voice of, what do you call it, a lector, music minister? Most churches have okay music, though I’ve found exceptional ones in the last few years! Exceptional! And it makes a big difference. If you’re in the states and go to Steubenville Conferences, the Franciscan University, how can one not appreciate Bob Rice, or Dr. Bob Rice, as he is known now? If the speaker list doesn’t entice you, his music will! But, at this place, there was the heavenly woman who stood up with a guitar and belted out songs...and I had never heard anything like it. And that is why I bothered returning. She’s more than that...her resume is remarkable. I think she can play anything! She teaches music, she is a dialect coach, she gets involved in producing plays, or the actors, to being in shows herself. I have a special name for her, which I won’t say, as everyone know’s that’s what I call her.  So, if someone did get on here, they couldn’t know it was me posting, as I don’t know if this is supposed to be out of the bag, or what. But, I bought her CD’s, and I finally had to look her up and I sent her an e-mail to let her know just how phenomenal she was. It’s funny how the world of computers work, nowadays we have to worry about cyber bullying, but when I was young and computers were first starting to get into people’s home, with dial-up, I met one of my dearest friends that way. I had a love for musical theatre from my Grandmother, who took me to my first live show, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, but had me watching classics when I was a toddler from My Fair Lady to Camelot. In middle school, while watching an Andrew Lloyd Weber Special, I fell head over heels for a UK singer, tracked him down as nothing was available in the states, joined a fan club, some mailing list that was too overwhelming to check and had to order everything overseas. Then one random day, I learn that very singer, the one whose head was imprinted on my pillow sheet, was coming to the states, and to my state and some woman got me in to the Public Television pledge thing, with the next day, this woman who was sending all these messages from the mailing list contacted me, an energetic woman from WA state who held get togethers in NYC every year for American fans, but come to find out she was my grandmothers age! But, it didn’t matter, because she loved what I did, and we began to e-mail multiple times a day and would mail each other playbills and when she got the chance she’d call on a special Sunday she was headed to Seattle to see a how (when cell phones costs extra to call half way across the country). She became one of my best friends. And my parents, as skeptical as they are, were in complete agreement to go to the gathering that following August in NYC, along with my grandmother, to celebrate our favorite singer, see shows, meet up with actors she supported-particularly one young man who I still support to this day in her honor and because he has talent and be friends, be present to one another in person. And the years that followed. Until she passed away, Valentine’s Day, 2005- which was fitting, as if anyone departed on a day of love, it would have been her. I took it not so well, didn’t listen to anything, didn’t want to see shows at the theatre, etc., until the angelic voice at the friary. She brought back the gift of music, and now look, as you’ll see post above (which that is much shorter than this turned out, so answer if you have a slight clue where to find the info, please!), while I’m no singer, or I don’t play a guitar, I now have another friend who wrote a musical that is brilliant, I’m helping as best I can to promote and market that and she is the one I knew to go to for direction on anything! And, I pledge a loyalty to this amazing talent, to do whatever I  can, though I don’t know yet what that is, as so much is being dumped on...and yes, selfishly, I need her music, especially now, too. 

Things change, I get that. Friars leave on new assignments, but some you cannot part with. One friar, I keep track of, though he doesn’t communicate through e-mail or computer and he is serving in a Spanish parish. We called him Padre Pio II. But he always has a place in my heart. And, this summer, a blow came when the Director, who as long as I’ve known about the friary, has been there, announced a big promotion- meaning he was leaving his post, though his new residence was just down the street, he’d be traveling. And that was hard to swallow, but I did. And he’s come back, and I keep tabs on where he’s at. A new director came in, and I grew to like him, was impressed by him, then went to a seminar, mini-retreat and did not like him, did not like his answers and refused to return. But I apologized, I did a Holy Hour and I did my best to make amends as he does do things that seem special, even humble. And I misunderstood the message, especially at the time I’m going through, it was not the time to go to such a lecture/teaching when you have a sick friend. And he was off the list, but in finally getting to this angelic voice and e-mailing her as she should be out there more, she’s super talented! I casually said something about her meeting with the new director and sarcastically said I hope this doesn’t mean you’re cut back any...but she is going to be. In a tiny chapel, this director, who has already brought changes that I don’t know if people do or do not like, depends on if they are a “regular” or a “pilgrim,” he wants to fit in an organ and a choir because it’s his dream. The faithful friar is young, and has well-meaning wishes, ambitious and wonderful ideas, tremendous devotions and even more than that to offer. But, if it isn’t broke, don’t fix it. And if it is his dream, not the dream of the others who buy her records in the gift shop, who cry at the staple song she sings on Good Friday, to thanking her after a mass she’s played at- how can he be shepherding a flock through his dream, and not through the message of the faithful Franciscan, St. Anthony?  This is someone who gives hope and peace, plus comfort, not to mention stories of Jesus from her own written songs to those who flock to the sacred shrine. This is more than just my first miracle of the shrine, this is the friary experience!

I am not sure on miracles today, I’m doubting Thomas, I’m the lost sheep, I’m the Prodigal son. But, I know this beloved shrine is in part beloved because of this woman’s music, and her heart. And in somehow trying to think how to link all this together, actually I believe I can, all of it, even the story on my sick friend. A homily I will never forget happened on one feast day celebration for St. Anthony, by my dear friar now somewhere else, who I said we called Padre Pio II. In saying, the importance of St. Anthony and what he meant, he told those in the church that whenever a problem arose, “Go to Anthony.” Because in his work, he was not just a Franciscan, teacher, preacher but he became a saint for the lost, a saint of miracles because of companionship. In each story I told, I found companionship, different places, at different times, always in a time of need. St. Anthony, as Padre Pio II said that day, and I’m butchering it, told us we should imagine what it is like to be the great pain, in tremendous suffering, to be at our loneliest and when we did to remember St. Anthony, because he was the ultimate companion, and always, no matter what the problem to remember to “Go to Anthony.”

If, you could pray for a miracle, to St. Anthony, or St. Francis of Assisi, or St. Cecelia (patron of musicians, arts, etc.), please do so, if you have a love of either 3, or for any saint you do have a love for, especially one that is also Franciscan- St. Therese, St. Claire (she’s the patron of TV, and gosh, that’s where this woman needs to be!), to my other saint who I send my guardian angel up to every day lately, Padre Pio. If you wish to support the work of this phenomenal woman, I am anonymous, and you came across her, and you can order a CD, or other product through her website.

If, I don’t know how this will work, but I just gave her website, so you can now tell what St. Anthony’s Shrine is being referred, but if this site works as intended, and I’m relying on St. Anthony and the Holy Spirit. So, with faith, with faith this long message is read, if anyone wishes to write a note, without mentioning the woman who’s site I linked, or that this plan is happening, this post, etc. Well, if you write it, I imagine you know what to do, but it would be addressed to The Shrine of Saint Anthony, c/o Director of the Shrine (you can look up as I can’t put name, first page of website, but don’t use email, that goes to office staff), address (bottom of the page). 

She’s too important to lose...no organ or choir, or fancy thing can replace the love of music, ministry and faith she has in heart. 

“The wisdom of God is reflected in the face of the soul: she will see God as he is, and she will know as she is known.”~St. Anthony of Padua, from Sermons of Saint Anthony of Padua

I know it’s Advent, and she does have a GREAT Christmas CD, Come to the Stable, but as in the post above, this Good Friday classic, Eyes, gets everyone every time- which is also available through website, on the CD, Love Makes Room. Or, at the very least, though not updated (but I’m trying to help with that when I get the time, hopefully, after Christmas!), subscribe to her YouTube channel! God Bless all who read this!

#franciscan #thirdorderfranciscan #stanthonyandthedonkey #stanthony #patronofthelost #patronofmiracles #musicsupport #messengerangel #stanthonyofpadua #savetheheavenlymusic #angelicmusic #carmelite #our lady of the angels #st.therese #stclaire #stcecilia #padrepio #petitioneroffaith #petitioner #comeholyspirit #friarmusic #angelofsong #angel of music

[artificialqueens]

the way you know me, for where you know me (craquaria) - tyler

A/N - saw some requests for M/M smut! drag names and occasional boy names used, she/her for when they’re in drag and he/him used after they de-drag

Aquaria, The Vixen, and Miz Cracker were backstage listening to upbeat music to hype them up for tonight. The three of them were all painting their faces as they prepared for the viewing party for the second episode of Season 10. After the drama that ensued on the first episode, it was important for them to let the public know that they were still friends. Drag race fans were notorious for attacking queens for small bits of ‘drama’ on a partially scripted and heavilyedited reality TV show.

A knocking at the door caused the painting queens to turn around simultaneously.

“Come in!” The Vixen shouted in the direction of the door while Aquaria grabbed her phone to turn the music down to a more acceptable volume.  

“Girls, I’m so sorry this is late notice,” the man’s voice was serious albeit slightly worrisome, “We’re having issues with the lighting, and the projector just isn’t cooperating with us.” He put his hand to his forehead, wiping away the sweat from the heated red skin.

All three queen’s faces dropped at the news.

“So, the viewing party isn’t going on anymore?” Aquaria questioned. The Vixen rolled her eyes at Aquaria being oblivious to the situation… as usual.

“No shit,” The Vixen said to Aquaria, jokingly. “Guess we’ve got the night off then girls!” Vixen laughed it off, even though it was obvious she was slightly pissed off.

After packing up their things, Aquaria pulled out her phone.

@aquariaofficial: so sorry the #DragRace viewing party won’t be happing tonight, problem with the power at the venue!

She added a sad emoji and a heart before sending the tweet. Cracker and Vixen followed suit and updated fans on their social medias.

When the queens emerged from the club, the sky was clear, and the sun was just starting to make its descent into the horizon. The golden light from the sky illuminated the streets as they walked back to their nearby hotel.

“Actually, lowkey glad I don’t have to spend all night in drag, I’m fucking exhausted,” The Vixen laughed as she walked along side Aquaria and Cracker.

“That’s because you use all your energy fighting, Miss Thing,” Aquaria joked, referencing their time filming Drag Race.

“Alright, alright, girls. I thought we’d had enough with poking the bear,” Cracker joined in on the fun.

The Vixen and Aquaria had tough times during Drag Race, but easily made amends throughout the season and apologised to each other. They actually found it pretty funny looking back at how much they butted heads, so enjoyed joking about it.

When they entered the hotel foyer, The Vixen let Cracker and Aquaria know that she was going to head back to her room to relax for the night.

The foyer was light, and thankfully it was relatively empty. A few passing faces either loved the view of queens in half drag, or they hated it. Either way, the girls didn’t really care, they were used to getting mixed reactions and attention from strangers.

“Cracker, do you wanna head back to my room with me? There’s no point in us both being sat alone in different rooms to watch the next episode,” Aquaria motioned to her hotel room door, hoping her friend didn’t pick up on her nervous rambling. It was common knowledge that Aquaria wasn’t good at forming sentences at the best of times but being around Cracker made that ten times worse.

“Yeah, sure girl,” Aquaria could see the flecks of caramel in Cracker’s eyes light up when she offered to spend the evening together. Swiping her key card, Aquaria held the door open to let the older queen enter before her.

The monochromatic beiges of the hotel room were soothing to the eyes. With travelling across America, a lot of the time they were forced into cheap, tiny hotels. This was one of the rare times they got a decent place to stay for the night. Maybe the club’s technical difficulties were a blessing in disguise.

Both queens put down their bags before Aquaria settled down on the bed, still in half-drag.

“I’m gonna need a shower to get this fucking half-an-inch-thick layer of makeup off my face,” Cracker groaned, running her fingers through her brunet hair. Aquaria just nodded understandingly and let her friend go and shower.

Stepping into the shower, Cracker let the hot water cleanse her body and made quick work of removing the makeup. Cracker admired the mix of colours that ran off her face and circled the drain.

In the main room, Aquaria was sat on the bed trying to occupy herself. For some reason, she was feeling oddly anxious and she knew it was to do with the fact she was likely spending the whole night with Cracker. The 22-year-old took deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves.

Aquaria was soon pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of her friend re-entering the room, now clean-faced. Cracker’s hair was still and messy, and he had the towel tied around his waist. Reaching down to pick up his bag, he felt Aquaria’s eyes on him.

“What are you looking at?” Cracker’s soft voice was quiet as he subconsciously covered his torso with his arms. He was insecure as a boy, especially when he noticed people looking at him.

“You, silly,” she said it matter-of-factly, but the slight flirty undertones still made Miz Cracker blush. Aquaria’s eyes followed a single bead of water that was making its way down Cracker’s toned back before it was absorbed by the towel. She immediately turned her head the other way, trying to draw her attention to something else.

Aquaria took out her laptop and brought up the livestream of VH1. She slid the laptop into the middle of the bed so they could both view it.

“The episode will be on soon, I’m just gonna shower too,” Aquaria said before picking up her bag and making her way to the en suite bathroom.

Cracker waited for Aquaria to disappear behind the door before dropping his towel and pulling on a t-shirt along with his briefs. He decided to forgo trousers as the hotel room was already relatively warm.

Cracker relaxed on the bed and decided to go on his phone whilst waiting. He loved interacting with fans on social media as much as possible, even with the hectic schedule.

                                                                                     ***

Aquaria entered wearing a low neck sleeveless top and a pair of Adidas track pants. He looked up to see Cracker on the bed. He had pulled his hair back into a sleek manbun.

“Someone’s made themselves comfortable,” Aquaria eyed the man, silently cursing how effortlessly attractive he looked.

“It’s just hot in here!” the older man whined, bringing his knees to his chest.

“Something’s definitely hot in here,” the taller man’s voice was low as he walked closer to the bed.

“Shut up,” Cracker placed his face into his knees to hide the blush forming on his cheeks.

Aquaria joined Cracker lounging on the bedsheets, making note of the time. It was nearing 7pm, meaning this week’s episode was about to air.

The New Yorkers failed to keep a straight face when it cut to clip of Vanessa leaving the mainstage.

“Miss Vanjie…” Aquaria mimicked the eliminated queen, silently laughing when Cracker joined in.

“Vaaaanjie,” Cracker craned his neck in a circle as he copied.

Aquaria visibly cringes when the screen shows the previous Untucked where he accused his friend of stealing looks.

“Ugh,” Aquaria covered his face with his hand. Cracker placed a reassuring hand on his friend’s arm and let his thumb stroke across the pale skin.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Cracker nodded his head to emphasise the point, “we’ve spoken about this before, no hard feelings.” Aquaria nodded and let out a sigh. Aquaria looked back at the screen after noticing it had cut to Cracker’s confessional. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw the bowtie and pale blue shirt combo. It was a dorky and cute look, which Aquaria thought was rather fitting for Cracker’s personality.

‘…it’s called being on top’ sounded the laptop.

“Oh, so now you think I can’t be on top?” Aquaria questioned with a challenging glint in his eye. The question was only half joking.

“Please, the only vers you are is Versace,” Cracker quoted Aquaria’s joke and tried to supress the butterflies in his stomach that came when their eyes met.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be on top,” he emphasised the last words, shifting closer to Cracker. As his heart rate begun to increase, Miz Cracker cursed how Aquaria could make his body react so easily.

“Is that so, Gio?” The New Yorkers had been made flirtatious passing comments whenever possible but neither knew if the deeper feelings behind those moments were mutual. “And what are you gonna do? Prove me wrong?”

Aquaria gulped at the use of his boy name. He hesitated before deciding to test his luck and straddled Cracker’s lap. Aquaria’s heart was beating so hard he could hear the thumps in his ears. They were both focused on each other, taking in small details of the intimate moment. By this point, they had completely drowned out the sound of the laptop, only being able to hear each other’s breathing and the sounds of their own hearts.

“Max. Tell me you don’t want this,” Aquaria’s voice was quiet, but the meaning behind the words rang in the older queen’s ears.

There had been a growing tension between the two queens since they had wrapped up filming the show. They had shared glances that were too long to be considered platonic anymore, and the jokes they had made together were bordering seriousness.

“You-,” Cracker gulped, “you know we can’t.”

“Tell me,” Aquaria repeated as he inched his face closer and stroked the short hairs on the back of his friend’s neck. Cracker’s eyes kept darting down to see plump, pink lips.

He decided that he’d had enough of the games.

“Fuck it,” the words were mere whispers as he let his lips collide with Aquaria’s. Months of build-up had led to this moment, and he was hungry for it. Wandering hands made their way over each other’s bodies as they thrived on each other’s energy.  

Aquaria let his tongue poke out a little, asking for more from Cracker. The older queen happily obliged, letting their tongues meet. Aquaria’s fingers continued to toy with the baby hairs at the base of Cracker’s neck as he leaned further into the kiss. The black-haired man closed his bite down on Cracker’s lip, causing a low moan to slip out. Aquaria ran his tongue over the bottom lip to sooth the soft skin.

“Wait,” Aquaria pulls back from the kiss, leaving them both breathless.

“Are you okay? Did I do something wrong? I’m sor-,” Cracker voice wavered as he began to ramble. The last thing he wanted to do was to make the younger queen uncomfortable.

“No no, it’s fine, it’s just,” Aquaria pauses, reaching over to pick up his bag, “thought we woul- or that we might need a couple things if this is… going any further.” He tried to piece his words together correctly, hoping to not ruin the moment.

Cracker let out a deep breath, feeling relieved. However, once the realisation settled in, he felt the blood rush to his cheeks. Just the idea of it sent a stirring to his lower abdomen.

“I cannot fucking believe you,” Cracker laughs under his breath as Aquaria retrieves a small bottle of lube along with a few condoms.

“Can’t blame me for being wishful,” he winked. Cracker thought the small action was adorable; he shook his head as he leant forward to take Aquaria’s lips in his for a small kiss.

Cracker eyed the plump skin of Aquaria’s thighs as he slid his track pants and briefs off. He smiled to himself before removing his own shirt.

Aquaria quickly shut his laptop and slide it off the bed, ignoring the thud when it hit the carpeted floor.

The pale man crawled back up the bed as Cracker squeezed the small bottle, letting the clear liquid cover the tops of his pointer and middle finger. Aquaria lifted one of his legs to straddle his lover once more.

Cracker used one of his lubricated fingers to slowly massage the outer part of Aquaria’s entrance. Allowing the muscles to relax, he softly inserts one of his fingers, eliciting a hum from the twink. Aquaria kissed down the side of Cracker’s neck as the older queen continued to penetrate him, adding an extra finger. The subtle groans coming from Aquaria only spurred Cracker on.

Aquaria reached for one of the condoms, indicating that he was ready. His hands were careful as he pulled the material down Cracker’s thighs, letting his semi-erect penis out. Aquaria smirked as he pulled open the wrapper and pulled out the latex. Aquaria’s soft hands clasped around Cracker’s dick, letting it become fully erect before rolling the condom down it.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Cracker knew it definitely wasn’t Aquaria’s first time, but he still wanted to be make sure they were both 100% ready.  Neither one of them were massively into hook-up culture, so there was an unspoken bond between them in this moment.

Aquaria nodded, biting his bottom lip slightly before lowering himself onto Cracker. The older man grabbed the base of his dick to guide it in, feeling the tightness surround it. When the skin of Aquaria’s thighs met Cracker’s, both of them let out a sigh. Cracker’s hands wandered to Aquaria’s hips, helping to aid his lover’s movements.

Cracker used the pad of his thumb to spread the precum over the head of Aquaria’s dick teasingly before wrapping his fingers around the girth. Aquaria’s song-like moans got louder as Cracker slowly teased his dick.

The younger man spread his legs further apart as Cracker’s hips thrusted up to meet the pale skin. The slapping sound of their thighs meeting got louder as Cracker thrusted up harder, gripping onto Aquaria’s sides for leverage.

Aquaria placed his hands on to Cracker’s chest, pushing him to lean back. Cracker complied, leaning back on his elbows, and using his forearms to support himself. The brunet watched as Aquaria took charge in riding him. The sight of the younger man’s hips was hypnotising.

Aquaria continued to ride Cracker, sliding back and forth on his dick. He wanted to put on a show for Cracker, biting his lip as he let Cracker fill him up. Aquaria was more vocal; letting small moans and whines creep out, along with a few expletives.

Aquaria leant forward, placing a few broken kisses on Cracker’s lips before trailing more kisses down his neck. The hot breaths tickled Cracker’s neck and Aquaria’s moans graced the shell of Cracker’s ear, encouraging him to keep going.

Their faces were close, hot breaths tickling each other’s skin. Cracker could tell that Aquaria was getting close to orgasm; his whines were getting increasingly often and harder to contain. He was breathing hard, and with every deep exhale, he moaned slightly.

Aquaria sat upright and grabbed his dick and stroked it, squeezing it slightly as his grip approached the soft pink head. With a few most thrusts from the man under him, the tip of Aquaria’s cock was releasing cum. Aquaria’s head tilted back as her loudest moans came from deep within her chest.  Cracker groaned as he felt the heat of the liquid fall onto his chest and abdomen.

“Fuck,” Aquaria’s voice was quiet and drawn out as his penis continued to subtly twitch for a few seconds.

The white beads spattered across Cracker’s toned abs. The brunet slowed his hips, allowing Aquaria to come down from his orgasm. Aquaria laid on the bed, giving himself a minute to catch his breath.

Cracker sat up and grabbed his earlier discarded towel, wiping it across his midsection to clean it. Soon, there was a hand on his chest again, pushing him to lie down again.

Aquaria’s long fingers stroked the sides of Cracker’s dick as he removed the condom before throwing it behind his shoulder. They didn’t care where it landed as Aquaria was eager to please the shorter man, and Cracker could tell this by the darkness in Aquaria’s eyes.

His tongue caressed the salty head, whilst his talented hands worked the lower shaft. A drop of saliva fell from Aquaria’s lips and rolled down the side of Cracker’s dick. Aquaria moved his hand up and jerked a couple of times before bringing his face closer to it once again.

Aquaria brought his tongue to the base of the penis, slowly dragging it upwards. The wet tip of his tongue made sure to trace along the protruding veins as it made its way to the slit in the head. His almost-black eyes kept deliberate elongated eye contact with the golden-brown eyes of the man in front of him. Opening the entrance to his mouth wider, he slowly took the tip deeper, lowering his head down to allow the rest of the dick to enter. A low groan escaped Crackers throat when he felt the back of Aquaria’s throat.

Cracker ran his fingers through thick black hair, involuntarily tugging when the younger man would move his head in a particular way.

“I’m gonna…” Cracker warned Aquaria, pulling on his hair. Aquaria didn’t stop his motions. Cracker’s breaths quickened and his abdominal muscles visibly flexed.  The tip of Cracker’s dick hit the back of Aquaria’s throat once, twice, and then he was cumming. Aquaria kept the head of the penis in his mouth, massaging the base of the dick as the streams of cum coated his tongue.

His hips jutted off the bed slightly as he finished. Aquaria swallowed and poked his tongue out, showing Cracker his now empty mouth.

“Not bad for someone who isn’t on top,” Aquaria joked. Cracker just hummed and smiled at him.

***

After redressing himself, Aquaria cuddled up behind Cracker on the bed, bringing his arm over his lover’s torso. Cracker turned over to face Aquaria. They shared a comfortable silence with each other for a few moments.

“Hey,” Aquaria broke the silence.

“Hi,” Cracker let out a laugh,

“Why are you laughing at me,” Aquaria feigned annoyance and pouted.

“Nothing, I just-,” Cracker took a second to think, “I’m just happy that tonight happened, I guess.”

“You big softie,” Aquaria rolled his eyes as he poked fun at the older man, “I’m glad it happened too.”

Aquaria rested his head on Cracker’s shoulder and sighed. He could tell that the younger one was tired.

“Goodnight, Gio.” Cracker kissed the top of Aquaria’s head before they both fell into slumber.

#miz cracker #aquaria #craquaria #smut #rpdr fanfiction #canon compliant #tyler #tour fic #s10

[pamphletstoinspire]

A Padre Pio Inspirational Story

Let us always keep before our eyes the fact that, here on earth, we are on a battlefield, and that in Paradise we shall receive the crown of victory; that this is a testing-ground, and the prize will be awarded up above; that we are now in a land of exile, while our true homeland is Heaven, to which we must continually aspire. – St. Pio of Pietrelcina __________

Alexandra (Alix) Brown grew up in a wealthy and socially privileged family in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. She was raised as an Episcopalian and although she attended church regularly with her family all throughout her youth, it was not something that she enjoyed. At that time, she could describe churchgoing in one simple word, “boring.” To Alix, people went to church because it was a social custom and obligation and nothing more. Religion was simply a crutch to try to come to terms with what no one could really understand. And God? God was a “dead word” in Alix’s way of thinking. Church was dry and meaningless and Alix felt that for her, it was unnecessary.

Alix was interested in other things. She enjoyed the wide variety of cultural events that were available in Philadelphia. She found enjoyment in art, music, and the theater. She loved elegant dinner parties, beautiful clothing and the “good things” that money could buy. In her privileged upbringing, money could buy almost anything she wanted.

After completing high school, Alix enrolled in the prestigious Briarcliff womens’ college in Westchester County, New York. There she met many women who, like her, were from wealthy families and who, like her, had been somewhat “spoiled” by an abundance of material advantages.

As the scriptures note, “To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under Heaven.” (Ecclesiastes 3:1) The “season” for searching out the deeper meaning of life, came to Alix while attending Briarcliff College. Even though she did not believe in God, in some mysterious way, she was searching for Him. She began to spend a lot of time in the college library, reading books on world religions. The Eastern religions of India and Asia attracted her. However, in her study, she found that there were many doctrines in the teachings of Hinduism and Buddhism which she could not accept.

Alix moved to Florence, Italy in her second year of college to study classical art. She had been accepted at the Simi Art Studio in Florence, which was considered to be one of the finest art schools in Italy. One of the students she met at the Studio was a wonderful and gifted man named Antonio Ciccone. Alix enjoyed his friendship and admired him for his remarkable artistic talent.

Antonio, who had grown up in San Giovanni Rotondo, had experienced many hardships throughout his childhood. His father, a widower, was very poor and could barely provide for Antonio and the other children. Antonio tended sheep like many other young boys in the area. He loved to draw and sketch and it soon became obvious that he possessed an amazing artistic talent.

Throughout Antonio’s youth, he had many opportunities to visit Padre Pio and to attend his Mass. Antonio used to try to memorize the fine details of Padre Pio’s face in order to draw it. One time, Padre Pio turned Antonio out of the confessional because he realized that he had come primarily to study his face. Padre Pio had an aversion to being stared at and made it quite clear to Antonio.

Padre Pio used to go to the monastery garden at the end of the day where he enjoyed the company of his friends and fellow-Capuchins. Antonio was able to visit with Padre Pio in the garden on many occasions. Antonio found the time in the garden to be a wonderful opportunity to carefully concentrate on the details of Padre Pio’s face for his drawings. Padre Pio would notice it and say to Antonio, “Why are you looking at me like that?” Antonio would answer, “I am studying.”

Padre Pio used to call Antonio, “Pitturi” (little painter) and he always had Antonio’s best interests at heart. He wanted him to lead an exemplary Christian life. Once, in the confessional, Padre Pio took both of Antonio’s hands in his own and held them for the duration of Antonio’s confession. “Please don’t disappoint me,” he said to Antonio.

At one time, Antonio thought that he might have a vocation to the religious life and considered joining the Capuchin order. In clear and unmistakable words, Padre Pio said to Antonio, “No, you must paint. That is your path.” Years later, Antonio’s remarkably beautiful religious paintings would be placed in the Capuchin monastery of Our Lady of Grace as well as in Padre Pio’s hospital, the Home for the Relief of Suffering.

A wonderful opportunity opened up for Antonio when a devout couple from Florence who knew Padre Pio, invited Antonio to live with them and study art in Florence. They had the financial means to provide for his education. Padre Pio was very happy about the arrangement and Antonio left for Florence with Padre Pio’s blessing.

Alix Brown considered Antonio to be the most gifted student at the Simi Art Studio in Florence. He used to wear a Rosary around his neck, which always looked very striking to Alix. She admired him for his deep spirituality. Antonio told her many stories of his childhood, and of his experiences of knowing Padre Pio. He encouraged her to visit Padre Pio’s monastery in San Giovanni Rotondo.

Because of the example of Antonio, as well as that of other devout Catholics that she had met in Florence, in her private and ongoing study of world religions, Alix decided to take a closer look at Christianity. The information that Antonio had shared with her about Padre Pio was very meaningful to her. She began to ponder the fact that Padre Pio was a Catholic and she had a desire to learn more about the teachings of the Catholic Church.

Alix Brown’s study of Catholicism eventually led her to the decision to enter the Catholic Church, a plan that her family members were opposed to. Her parents would not give their permission and instead told her to delay her decision for two years, until she was twenty-one years old. Alix did what her parents asked of her. She waited patiently until her twenty-first birthday and was finally received into the Catholic church in 1961.

After her conversion to Catholicism, Alix received an invitation from a good friend, Louise, to make a visit to San Giovanni Rotondo. Alix remembered the interesting conversations she had with Antonio Ciccone about Padre Pio and was happy to accept the invitation.

It took thirteen hours for Alix and Louise to drive from Florence to San Giovanni Rotondo. It rained heavily for most of the trip. They felt fortunate to find lodging in the one and only hotel in the area. The town was rural and undeveloped and lacked many of the amenities that most people take for granted. For instance, there was very little hot water available in the hotel, something that Alix found surprising.

The next morning, the girls got up very early in order to attend Padre Pio’s Mass. The “new” church where the Mass was said had been constructed in 1959, and was built right next door to the older one. San Giovanni Rotondo had outgrown the small but beautiful 16th century church of Our Lady of Grace. The new church was large and spacious compared to the original and could accommodate one thousand people. When Padre Pio was taken to see it for the first time, he spoke prophetically, “It is not big enough.” And it was true. Not estimating accurately the crowds that would be coming to San Giovanni Rotondo in the future, those who laid the plans did not make the church large enough. On many occasions, Mass had to be said in an outdoor portico, because the church could not contain the people.

The local Italian people were territorial and aggressive when the church doors opened in the early morning. There was plenty of pushing, shoving, and elbowing that occurred as the people rushed forward to the sanctuary of the church. They obviously felt entitled to the best seats which were closest to the altar. Their conduct did not bother Alix. She had an understanding of the culture from her time spent living in Florence. Although it was noisy in the church as people hurried to find a seat, once the Mass started, the congregation became completely silent and all eyes were on Padre Pio.

Padre Pio said the Mass slowly and prayerfully. One could sense his union with God. Deeply recollected, he seemed to become lost in the mystery of the Mass. A sense of the sacred pervaded the church. Alix was awed by the experience.

Alix had decided that her trip to San Giovanni Rotondo would be an act of thanksgiving for her recent entry into the Catholic church. Yes, she had come to attend Padre Pio’s Mass, but she had also come to thank God for the great gift of faith that she had received and for the blessings of being Catholic. It was easy to pray in San Giovanni Rotondo. It was easy to think about God. The entire area, though poor and unimpressive outwardly, was pervaded with a sense of the supernatural.

After Louise and Alix attended Padre Pio’s early morning Mass, Alix stayed inside the church to pray in silence. It was there that she received the incredible grace of a religious vocation. In an instant, and “deep down in her soul” Alix was suddenly and unmistakably aware that God was calling her to leave everything in the world, and become a religious. It was something she had never even considered as a possibility. She had never felt the slightest attraction to the life of a consecrated religious. She had thought at length about her future and was intending to pursue a career in art. For as long as she could remember, she had wanted to marry and raise a family. She assumed that her future husband would probably be Italian, since she loved living in Italy and planned to live there permanently. But in a flash, everything changed.

Alix felt that she had been given an invitation by God to follow the path of the consecrated life. She knew what that meant. The strict vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience were nothing to take lightly. But she felt convinced that it was God’s will for her and she wanted to follow His will. She knew what a privilege it was to be called to such a vocation. As to which religious order to enter, she did not have the slightest idea. Each order had its own unique charism. There were the Franciscans, the Benedictines, the Cistercians, the Carmelites, and many more. There were missionary nuns, contemplative nuns, teaching nuns, and nursing nuns. She had a great desire to speak to Padre Pio about the matter. She hoped that he would advise her and direct her to a holy religious congregation.

When it was time for Alix and Louise to go back to Florence, Alix knew for certain that she wanted to return again to the monastery of Our Lady of Grace. The visit had been a remarkable experience. She had been able to talk to a number of the residents in the area who shared many stories with her about Padre Pio. The miracles that surrounded his life and his extraordinary spiritual gifts were well known and well documented. They were of course, a part of his spirituality, but to Alix, they were not the most important part. To her, the most significant feature of Padre Pio’s life centered on his all-consuming love for God and for the Church. After attending his early morning Mass, Alix came to the conclusion that his Mass was without a doubt, the greatest miracle of all.

Alix returned to San Giovanni Rotondo the following month. She made her confession to Padre Pio and told him what had happened on her first visit to the monastery, when she felt that God was calling her to a vocation in religious life. She asked him to advise her on the next step she should take. “You must pray,” Padre Pio said simply. He gave her no other words of advice on the matter. Alix was hoping that he would make the decision for her as to which religious order to enter, but no such luck. She made many subsequent confessions to Padre Pio and always spoke to him about her vocation, asking for his guidance and direction. His advice was always the same, “You must pray.” “Padre Pio made me do all the work in finding the right congregation,” Alix said, “He would not do the work for me.”

Alix returned each month to San Giovanni Rotondo for the next six months – sometimes for a few days and sometimes for weeks at a time. She did not mind the thirteen-hour journey from Florence. It was well worth every sacrifice and every inconvenience.

Through her many visits to San Giovanni Rotondo, Alix became acquainted with Padre Pio’s American secretary, Mary Pyle. Mary had become almost a legend in the town. Everyone either knew Mary or knew of her. People sought her out because she had worked tirelessly for Padre Pio and had faithfully assisted him for many years.

Mary, who was born into a wealthy family in New York City, visited Padre Pio’s monastery for the first time in 1923. She was so impressed by attending his Mass and receiving his priestly blessing that she decided to move to San Giovanni Rotondo permanently. When Alix met Mary, she had been living just down the hill from the monastery for more than thirty-five years. Like many others, Alix had a great admiration for Mary and as time passed the two became close friends.

Mary felt a special call, a special vocation to make Padre Pio known to others. Her workload was always heavy as she answered the letters that came into the monastery, baked the hosts that were used for Holy Communion, sewed the priestly vestments of the Capuchins, and greeted the pilgrims who visited San Giovanni Rotondo. Mary had many other duties, too numerous to mention. She was generous and kindhearted and always available to help anyone who needed assistance. Her charity and her many good works were an inspiration to Alix. Alix described Mary Pyle as having a “beautiful radiance” about her person.

Mary would talk about Padre Pio for hours to the visitors who came to the monastery. She never tired of telling the same stories about Padre Pio, over and over again. Alix recognized Mary’s availability to the pilgrims and her willingness to share anecdotes and stories of Padre Pio’s life with them as an important “apostolic work.” Literally thousands of people were introduced to Padre Pio through the years because of Mary Pyle’s efforts.

Mary wore the brown habit of the Third Order Franciscans. On one occasion, she sent one of her new habits over to the monastery to have Padre Pio bless it. However, whether he was jesting or not, for a reason that no one knew, he did not readily bless it but instead complained about it. Mary was told what had happened. “Did he finally bless my habit?” Mary asked. “Yes, he did. He made the sign of the cross over it,” the Capuchin replied. “Where was the habit when he blessed it?” Mary asked. “It was sitting on his lap,” the Capuchin answered. “Well, that is good enough for me!” Mary said and she was filled with gratitude. Mary treasured a word, a glance, a blessing from Padre Pio. Her dedication to him was total.

Mary Pyle was advanced in years and was beginning to have numerous problems with her health when Alix met her. It became difficult for her to walk. After Mass, Alix used to take Mary’s arm and help her down the hill to her home just below the monastery. Mary had a little basket in her home that contained memorial cards with prayer requests for the deceased. Mary referred to the basket as a little “graveyard.” If any memorial cards came in, she asked Alix to be sure and put them with the others. Every day without exception, Mary faithfully prayed for the souls of all who had memorial cards in the basket.

It was Mary’s habit, especially in her later years, to take a nap every afternoon after her midday meal. Alix used to help her up the stairs to her small bedroom on the second floor of her home. It took a great effort for Mary to get up the stairs. She often asked Alix to read to her until she fell asleep. Because Mary had led an intensely active life, it was very difficult for her to accept her declining health. After Alix moved back to the United States, Mary had a stroke. She wrote several letters to Alix and asked for her prayers so that she would be able to accept her condition and surrender completely to God’s will.

Alix knew how fortunate she was to be able to spend so much time in San Giovanni Rotondo, meeting the Capuchins, the pilgrims, and great souls like Mary Pyle, as well as others who had dedicated their lives to assisting Padre Pio’s work.

To Alix, San Giovanni Rotondo, from an architectural and artistic standpoint, was a town that was greatly lacking in style and beauty. It did not have the old world charm of places like Pietrelcina, Assisi, or Perugia, with their cobblestone streets, interesting structures, quaint buildings, and beautiful churches.

While the architectural style may have left much to be desired, Alix nevertheless felt inspired by the geography of the area. The wide-open expanses, the rocky, barren hills, heavy rains in the autumn and winter, the strong winds that often howled and whipped down the Gargano mountain, the cold, bright stars that filled the early morning sky – this was San Giovanni Rotondo. To Alix, there was a mystical feeling to the landscape and the terrain. And most important of all, Padre Pio lived there.

Alix was also aware of the invisible forces that were at work in San Giovanni Rotondo, the age-old battle of good versus evil. Although it was not something that she could see with her eyes, she could sense it and feel it. One recalls that Padre Pio had a vision when he was fifteen years old, of that very battle of good verses evil which takes place within the human soul. His vision was a revelation of the spiritual warfare that he would encounter throughout his life.

In the vision, the young Padre Pio (Francesco Forgione) suddenly saw a majestic and beautiful figure standing beside him. The man had a radiant countenance, similar to the brightness of the sun. He said to Francesco, “I am here to tell you that you are going to have to fight like a courageous warrior.” The resplendent figure took Francesco by the hand and led him to an open field. In the field stood two large groups of men. One group had beautiful and shining faces. They were wearing robes of the purest white. The other group was dressed in black garments. They were ugly and frightening in appearance.

Francesco stood in the middle of the open field with the radiant figure beside him. Suddenly he saw a treacherous and hideous being coming toward him. The gruesome figure was so tall that he appeared to be a giant. “You must fight with this creature,” the resplendent man said to Francesco. “But do not worry because I will be with you.”

Francesco became terrified as the monster-like figure advanced toward him. He felt weak and began to tremble uncontrollably. He thought that he was going to faint. Francesco’s spiritual guide then took his arm to support him. He felt strengthened by the celestial man’s touch. Francesco entered into a violent battle with his dangerous adversary and finally conquered him. The radiant figure placed a magnificent crown on Francesco’s head but then quickly removed it. He said to Francesco, “You will receive a crown that is even more beautiful than this one if you will continue to stand up to the dark being whom you just fought. Be strong and do not fear. I will always be near and will always help you.”

Shortly after, Francesco had another vision and was given the realization that the beautiful and resplendent man who had stood beside him in the vision was Jesus. In truth, it was Jesus who was always with him, assisting him in the many trials and tribulations of his life. In his fight against evil forces and in his life-long battle against demons, Padre Pio would always remain close to God and would be victorious.

If the demons attacked Padre Pio at times, the angels were always nearby to shield and protect him. The angelic realm was very real and very much alive to Padre Pio. Whenever he spoke about angels, he spoke from his own direct experience. He had been able to see and communicate with angels from his childhood.

Monte Sant Angelo, the beautiful shrine dedicated to St. Michael the Archangel, was located approximately twenty-five miles from San Giovanni Rotondo. Padre Pio, who had a life-long devotion to St. Michael, had made a pilgrimage there in his youth. He often encouraged people to visit the shrine. On one occasion, Alix was invited to go with a group of friends to Monte Sant Angelo. They intended to make the pilgrimage on foot, as an act of penance and sacrifice.

In the confessional, Alix told Padre Pio about her plan to visit the shrine and asked him for his blessing on the trip. Padre Pio made no reply. Thinking that he might not have heard her, Alix repeated her request, this time even louder. Once again, there was no response. As it turned out, on the day of the pilgrimage, Alix became ill and could not go with her friends. Most likely, Padre Pio had known that she would not be able to go on the pilgrimage and so had not given his priestly blessing.

Alix went to confession numerous times to Padre Pio. In the confessional, before Alix could name her sins, Padre Pio often began by asking her a number of direct questions regarding those very sins. “Have you told the truth?” he would say. “Have you exaggerated?” he would inquire. While many people do not consider exaggeration to be a matter of consequence, Padre Pio obviously did. It was something that needed to be addressed and corrected. He was particular and exacting to the smallest detail.

Other than a few simple questions that he might ask, Padre Pio usually said very little in the confessional. If he was asked a question directly, he often answered by a simple “yes” or “no.” Although confessions to Padre Pio were generally short, they were extremely beneficial, as so many people testified. Padre Pio was concerned with the soul and how that soul could be saved. Everything else was secondary. “Trust in God and pray,” were his frequent words. There were always long lines of people waiting to make their confession to him and there was simply no time for discussions or extended conversations.

Alix investigated many different religious orders in an effort to find one that would be suitable for her. As Padre Pio advised her, she spent many hours in prayer, invoking God’s intercession. When she read a biography of St. Teresa of Avila, she felt drawn to the Carmelite spirituality. She visited a cloistered Carmelite congregation on the East Coast to inquire about their way of life. The moment she walked through the door, it felt like home. She was accepted into the congregation. Since she chose an enclosed order, there would be no going out into the world, no traveling about. She did not think it would be a difficult adjustment. For Alix, the greatest difficulty that she faced was leaving Padre Pio, knowing that she would never see him again. Before joining the Carmelites, Alix wanted to visit Padre Pio one last time.

In 1963, Alix spent four months in San Giovanni Rotondo. She attended Padre Pio’s early Mass every morning and then spent the greater part of the day in church. At 11:30 a.m. each day, Padre Pio went to the balcony of the church for his private recitation of the Rosary. Most of the pilgrims who visited the monastery were not aware that he did this. Because Alix had spent so much time in San Giovanni Rotondo, she was very familiar with his daily routine. She made sure that she too was in the church at 11:30 a.m. each day to pray her Rosary and to unite her own prayers with Padre Pio’s. It was always a consolation for her to look up into the balcony and see Padre Pio deeply engrossed in prayer. She felt that she benefitted just by being near him.

When Padre Pio finished praying his morning Rosary, he would walk across the upper balcony of the church and through a connecting door into the old church. There he would recite the Angelus, the beautiful prayer to the angel of God, with all who were gathered. Afterward, he would bless the crowd. Daily, Alix recited the Angelus with Padre Pio, and then received his blessing.

Alix attended Benediction every afternoon in the church, with Padre Pio presiding. It was truly a blessed experience. The way Padre Pio held the monstrance for Benediction was something that Alix had never seen before. He was so aware of the true presence of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament that he held in his hands. His face was radiant during the Benediction. Mary Pyle played the organ and directed the choir which sang at Benediction every afternoon.

In the evening before retiring, Alix joined the local people who stood at Padre Pio’s window and sang their goodnight songs to him. Buona Notte, Padre Pio (Good night, Padre Pio) was one of the favorites.

Alix entered in the cloistered Carmelite convent in June 1964. After six months as a postulant, she became a novice and took the religious habit. At that time, she was invited to choose a new name. The Carmelite tradition allows the novice to choose two names – a first name and a religious title to follow. For her, the decision was easy. Her new name became Sister Pia of Jesus Crucified. She wanted to stay as close to Padre Pio as she could. Taking his name would be a constant reminder of him.

Of all the memories that Sister Pia has of visiting San Giovanni Rotondo, attending Padre Pio’s Mass is the one that she treasures most. The way Padre Pio celebrated Mass was a sermon in itself. His recollection, his reverence, his long pauses of prayerful silence, all spoke of his great love for God. A man who attended Padre Pio’s Mass once said, “When I saw Padre Pio genuflect, I was deeply edified. It reminded me of Jesus, beneath the Cross. I had never seen a genuflection like it before and I have never seen one since. I will never forget it for as long as I live.”

Padre Pio wanted people to make a good preparation before receiving Holy Communion and a thoughtful and prayerful thanksgiving afterward. “The thanksgiving after Mass is something that must never be neglected,” he once said. His own thanksgiving after Mass lasted at least forty-five minutes.

Padre Pio strictly observed the fasting rules of the Church before receiving Holy Communion and he insisted that everyone else do the same. He wanted people to dress modestly in the house of God. He was accused of being old-fashioned and unbending in this regard, but he would not compromise. People would not be admitted inside the church if they were not dressed modestly. There were to be no conversations, no talking for any reason, once inside the church. Instead, a strict silence was to be observed. God was very near; it was a time to put everything else aside but the thought of God.

These considerations are especially important for the times we live in today, when many beautiful and devotional Catholic practices and traditions have been long-since abandoned. Sadly to say, many people have lost a great treasure – a spirit and an attitude of reverence and a sense of the sacred. But in truth, what has been lost can be reclaimed. Let us hope and pray for this intention.

Throughout her many years as a Carmelite nun, Sister Pia has frequently gone back in time to those early days, when she visited Padre Pio in San Giovanni Rotondo. Nothing had been a coincidence. It had all been a God-incidence, leading her step by step to the place where she belonged.

Sister Pia has pondered the fact that she received the grace of a religious vocation, not in Florence where she had studied art, or in New York where she attended college, or in Philadelphia where she had grown up, but on a visit to San Giovanni Rotondo, that small and remote town in southern Italy that seemed so very ordinary and unimpressive and lacking in so many ways. There, in the church of Our Lady of Grace, where Padre Pio had said daily Mass for most of his priestly life, where he had spent countless hours in prayer and in hearing confessions, she received the call to offer her life totally to God and to dedicate herself to prayer and reparation, and live hidden from the world.

In 1965, Padre Pio sent a message to Sister Pia through his assistant, Padre Pellegrino Funicelli. The message said, “Tell Sister Pia to keep herself burning ardently like a little lamp before Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament.” That is exactly what Sister Pia has been doing for these many years. __________

Let your desire be to see God; your fear that you may lose Him; your sorrow that you are not having fruition of Him; your joy that He can bring you to Himself. Thus you will live in great peace. — St.Teresa of Avila, Doctor of the Church

#padre pio

[onestowatch]

Q&A: Pale Waves Guides Us Through ‘My Mind Makes Noises’ Debut Album, Track by Track

Photo: Brian Griffin Pale Waves is a bit of a contradiction, and that is just part of what makes them such a dynamic act. They look like the disciples of Gerard Way and Joy Division, but sound like the offspring of The Bangles and Carly Rae Jepsen. They’re huge fans of modern pop acts like Charli XCX, but they could have easily shared a stage with Madonna in the ‘80s. They have amassed over 25-million Spotify streams since the release of their debut single, “There’s a Honey,” in Feb. 2017 and have played huge milestone venues like Madison Square Garden. Yet, they have just released their debut full-length album, My Mind Makes Noises.

Their meteoric rise based on a collection of singles solidifies that Pale Waves has what it takes to become the next big thing, and their success comes down to one simple fact: no one else is doing what Pale Waves is right now—nor as well. Not only has Pale Waves championed the difficult task of successfully walking the line between pop and rock, but they have introduced a universe of tender emotion with their lyrics as they wear their hearts on their fishnet covered sleeves. Combining elements of different genres, decades, subcultures, and emotions, they craft dream-like pop that still has two feet firmly planted on the ground. With their dichotomous existence and evocative lyrics, Pale Waves’ success ushers in the return of female-fronted pop-rock in an era that’s sorely lacking thereof.

After a year and a half of cultivating their rapidly rising fame, today marks the release of My Mind Makes Noises. The album is filled with enough diverse pop bangers and guitar-driven melodies to throw the Manchester-based outfit further into the spotlight, while drawing new listeners into their emotionally cinematic world. Frontwoman Heather Baron-Gracie’s lyrics entangle you in their strikingly raw nature as she presents her most vulnerable self, while the production of drummer Ciara Doran creates lush gardens of whirling melodies and skies of twinkling synth that makes this album one to be kept on repeat, or risk leaving their beautifully melancholic world.

Despite the fervor surrounding My Mind Makes Noises, as well as their accompanying headlining tour, Heather and Ciara are surprisingly calm as they make themselves comfortable on the sofa of the small lounge we’ve met in. “It’s kind of like a timeline of our band from basically three-and-a-half years ago to present day,” Heather explained as we begin talking about the debut album. “We started the band because I had all these songs on my acoustic and when I met Ciara I was like, ‘Can you put drums to my songs?’ We did performances where she was just drumming, and then we decided to just become a band.” 

Though they were the heart and soul of the band, when the duo met Hugo Silvani and Charlie Wood a year later, Pale Waves would finally begin to take shape as they began to plan for world domination—something that My Mind Makes Noises will undoubtedly help them achieve. “It feels pretty surreal. It feels like our whole journey’s been pretty fast and really exciting. A lot of people are really emotionally invested into our band at such an early stage, which is great because it means we’re really connecting with people. It’s just everything you could ask for and I want the album to be what people expected,” Heather stated.

In honor of the release of My Mind Makes Noises, we spoke about each of the 14 tracks on the album to hear the stories behind the music, and get a feel for what’s next for the band.

OTW: The opening track “Eighteen” is an absolute earworm that truly seems to channel what it feels like to fall in love. What can you tell us about its creation?

Ciara: “Eighteen” was written fully on tour.

Heather: Yeah, I wrote a lot of things to the instrumental and then in Denver I finally got it. Everyone we showed it to was like, “This is gonna be a big song” so, that’s why it’s first on the album.

Ciara: Lyrically, it’s really nice as well.

Heather: I had that first verse written for ages, and then Ciara wrote the music around it.

Ciara: That was actually a song that like I watched Adventureland and wrote to. Vibes from films can really give you inspiration for sound.

OTW: There are new recordings of your first two singles “There’s a Honey” and “Television Romance” making the cut. What was it about these songs that made them, as opposed to the others on your EP, essential for your debut record?

Heather: Well, “There’s a Honey” just had to be on the album because it was the first song that we put out there. It really made our fanbase, and it set something up for us. And then “Television Romance;” those two just sort of work together as a duo, and it felt weird to have one without the other.

Then when we were listening back to the demos it was pretty clear that we had to re-record them. We wanted it to sound like they were all recorded at the same time in the same studio and having the demos on the album just wouldn’t have worked.

OTW: “Noises” is undoubtedly one of the most powerful tracks as it tackles image insecurities and expectations. Did the track come from a purely confessional standpoint?

Heather: I thought about how the fans would react to it, but I knew I had to write it for me. I didn’t even think that much about how they’d relate to it until I got loads of messages thanking me. I feel it’s the most important track we’ve put out so far—we have quite a young fanbase and when you’re growing up that’s when you really think about what you wanna be and how you look. I’m just glad that I wasn’t too scared to write about that because it’s the song that’s now been there for so many people.

OTW: And what can you tell us about the video?

Heather: That video was a last minute thing but it was just so obvious that it needed to be a performance video from me. We spoke about having different Heathers that weren’t truly me: punk Heather is more exaggerated, the fashion look is stereotypically socially acceptable, and the doll look is a really sort of childish, vulnerable me. The one with the plastic sheet over my face, it’s basically like: what is beauty and who considers it? It plays on plastic surgery as well like, “Am I still beautiful under the plastic?” For the flashes of text between scenes, I wrote a paragraph of all my thoughts, and then we spoke about the ones that stood out the most. One, in particular, is “Does everyone feel this way?” I wanted to put that in because I wanted it to be like a sense of comfort for people who are really insecure as well, to know they’re not alone.

OTW: “Came In Close” and “Loveless Girl” are definitely two of the poppiest songs on the album. What inspired the tracks?

Heather: Those two tracks are really influenced by Ciara. I feel like we work so well together because I’m quite dark and she’s quite light so that’s how we get our sound. The lyrical content is quite meaningful and sad, but then Ciara sparkles it with pure pop elements, which you can really see on those tracks.

Ciara: “Came In Close” is really new. I was listening to Aretha Franklin’s “Jump To It,” and then I just sat down and wrote that bass line. It just turned out to be a really dancey song.

“Loveless Girl” originally sounded quite different, and I was so unhappy with it. I had to literally force myself to rework it cause it didn’t have the right vibe.

OTW: “Drive” is a larger than life track that smacks you with a guitar driven alt-rock sound and some truly dreamy synths. What can you tell us about the track?

Heather: We kept coming back and kept referencing The Naked And Famous, especially with the guitar sounds. I imagine when we play it live, it’s not going to take a lot for it to sound massive. It’s a really dramatic track as well; lyrically it’s like the sequel to “Noises.” Like “Noises” was when I was 16, and “Drive” is where I am now at 23. I do find writing songs about myself is hard, but I’m really glad we have tracks like “Drive.”

Ciara: You know that line “I drive fast so I can feel something?”

Heather: She would listen to that on repeat!

Ciara: Because I would cut it and put a delay on it and it made it like the best part of the album, I think.

Heather: Everyone we’ve played it to has been like, “Oh my god, this is something else!” We must be doing something right.

OTW: “When Did I Lose It All” is a breathtaking ballad that is just pure emotion. How did you approach writing the track?

Heather: Well, Ciara actually helped me write the chorus, and it’s about basically having somebody who’s “the one,” and you know that they’re right for you but you just don’t work in that moment. We were writing that chorus and Ciara came up with the “I want to marry you, but not now.”

Ciara: It’s the saddest thing.

Heather: I thought it was a really strong message. When I’ve shown the album to people, I’ve noticed that the older audience sway to that song.

Ciara: They find it really powerful; it’s a really powerful song. The guitar line was written on the tour bus. I feel like the next thing we do is going to be that vibe.

OTW: Similarly, “She” uses its power as a ballad to create a slow build into an absolutely epic guitar solo that has become a fan-favorite at your live shows. How did the track come to be?

Heather: “She” is quite an old song. I wrote, “My baby don’t touch me like they used to” first in my bedroom ages ago. It’s one of those songs that Ciara really just let me be all emo about. And the guitar solo—I love playing it live. A lot of the time I give all the lead riffs to Hugo but with this, I was like, “I can’t give you this, I’m sorry I have to play it.”

Ciara: I think it’s also the first song that I started doing a lot more of the music.

Heather: And now Ciara pretty much owns that whole area. I feel like the album has much more personality than the EP because when we did the EP that was all my really old synth songs except “The Tide.”

Photo: Danny North OTW: The following song “One More Time” seems to be the formers’ upbeat sequel that features an addictively timeless rock hook, making it one of the fullest sounding songs on the record. What shaped the creation of the track?

Heather: This was one of the moments where we were sitting down in the studio, but we needed more sort of “pop bangers.” We weren’t trying to write it for the radio but that’s just how we are.

Ciara: We just didn’t feel satisfied without it though, because we love pop so much. We wanted a song that was really just straightforward and would sound really good with Heather on guitar.

Heather: Really simple and dry all the way through, but you don’t really get a break in it. When Ciara showed me it musically for the first time ever, I just stood there and started singing the chorus.

Ciara: She sang that, and I was like “Fuck!”

Heather: Usually we’re perfectionists and we’re like, “If it’s the first thing it can’t be right,” but with this, we were like, “You know what? That’s it.” I feel like everyone goes through it when you break up with someone and you have that doubt in your mind. You like to know you could still have them—you want that power and that’s what this song’s about.

OTW: As we touched upon “Television Romance” earlier, let's talk influence. Considering how many of your tracks are cinematic enough to be suited for a John Hughes movie, and “Television” is a frequently used word lyrically—how much do TV and Film influence your songs?

Ciara: It influences us a lot, I mean that’s how we used to start off writing songs like “Kiss.”

Heather: Yeah like The Breakfast Club—I had to do this assignment for Uni and it was like, “Write a song to a film.” I caught a trailer of The Breakfast Club and that’s how “Kiss” became a song. So like I think it influences us a lot more than we think.

Ciara: Movies are like songs: like they all have a flow and a vibe and a story. So, like I feel like it can go hand-in-hand and just inspire you a lot. Especially when you can go, “I want to make a song that sounds like it belongs in that movie.”

OTW: “Red” is an incredibly modern pop-rock classic that seems to channel the likes of Taylor Swift and Bruce Springsteen. How did the track come to be?

Heather: “Red” actually started as an acoustic track. I love playing acoustic, and it was how we started the band, so I wrote “Red” acoustically to be that song. When I showed it to Ciara she was like “Oh my god that’s far too good.”

Ciara: It wasn’t right, the tone wasn’t right, the lyrics weren’t enough for an acoustic song.

Heather: It’s completely different now—the chorus is like a club track

OTW: “Kiss” is akin to a “Friday I’m In Love” moment that’s effortlessly feel-good. What inspired the track, and on that note, what was it like playing the Robert Smith-curated Meltdown Festival this year?

Heather: That was amazing, so good. We didn’t get to meet him but knowing he was the one who gave us that slot and kind of likes our band is pretty amazing. I think Robert Smith is an amazing songwriter and just a fantastic icon. I’ll probably dress the same when I’m old. “Kiss” is so old. It started with The Breakfast Club and that riff. It’s such a naive song, and I wasn’t half as honest as I am now. It’s a fun song to play live—the main thing about it is that it goes down really good live, and it’s just really energetic.

OTW: “Black,” your most recent single, is your most diverse. It plays with R&B beats and intensely catchy guitar riffs. What shaped this track?

Heather: “Black” we’ve had for ages. I actually wrote the first verse ages ago, then I showed Ciara and it always just stuck with her, so she was like “Please, please make it into a song.”

Ciara: That was written on tour as well.

Heather: It’s been the most problematic song that we’ve ever wrote. It just had a lot of different versions.

Ciara: When I stupidly put an R&B chorus in there we were like “Ugh, how are we gonna do this now?”

Heather: Cause like, when you listen to it the verses are really frantic and really rock, and then the chorus is relaxed R&B.

Ciara: It’s a juxtaposition.

OTW: Closing out the record is “Karl”—a deeply personal acoustic track that is beautifully haunting. What was it like writing the track destined to end your debut record?

Heather: Well, after I wrote “Red” and needed a new acoustic song Ciara was like, “You need to write an acoustic track about something a lot more personal… Why don’t you write it about your granddad?” I’d been trying to write about him for ages because he’s such an important person in my life, so then I sat down in the studio and really, really focused on him while writing. It took me a day to write the song and the next day we went in and recorded, so it’s as real and raw as it gets. Ciara cried when I first sang it to her. Everyone has nearly cried when they first listen to the song.

Ciara: You’d be a monster if you didn’t cry to that song.

Heather: I think that’s a track that’s really going to impact some people. I wanted it to be like a conversation more than a song so a lot of the lyrics are like if I could talk to him now the things I would say. It’s definitely the song that I’ve listened to the most. It’s my most vulnerable self, and it’s really quite scary, this going out into the world, but it’s as real as it gets.

#interview #pale waves #my mind makes noises #pop #rock #alternative

[xtruss]

Political thought

The threat from the illiberal left

Don’t underestimate the danger of left-leaning identity politics

— September 4th, 2021 Edition | The Economist

Something has gone very wrong with Western liberalism. At its heart classical liberalism believes human progress is brought about by debate and reform. The best way to navigate disruptive change in a divided world is through a universal commitment to individual dignity, open markets and limited government. Yet a resurgent China sneers at liberalism for being selfish, decadent and unstable. At home, populists on the right and left rage at liberalism for its supposed elitism and privilege.

Over the past 250 years classical liberalism has helped bring about unparalleled progress. It will not vanish in a puff of smoke. But it is undergoing a severe test, just as it did a century ago when the cancers of Bolshevism and fascism began to eat away at liberal Europe from within. It is time for liberals to understand what they are up against and to fight back.

Nowhere is the fight fiercer than in America, where this week the Supreme Court chose not to strike down a draconian and bizarre anti-abortion law. The most dangerous threat in liberalism’s spiritual home comes from the Trumpian right. Populists denigrate liberal edifices such as science and the rule of law as façades for a plot by the deep state against the people. They subordinate facts and reason to tribal emotion. The enduring falsehood that the presidential election in 2020 was stolen points to where such impulses lead. If people cannot settle their differences using debate and trusted institutions, they resort to force.

The attack from the left is harder to grasp, partly because in America “liberal” has come to include an illiberal left. We describe this week how a new style of politics has recently spread from elite university departments. As young graduates have taken jobs in the upmarket media and in politics, business and education, they have brought with them a horror of feeling “unsafe” and an agenda obsessed with a narrow vision of obtaining justice for oppressed identity groups. They have also brought along tactics to enforce ideological purity, by no-platforming their enemies and cancelling allies who have transgressed—with echoes of the confessional state that dominated Europe before classical liberalism took root at the end of the 18th century.

Superficially, the illiberal left and classical liberals like The Economist want many of the same things. Both believe that people should be able to flourish whatever their sexuality or race. They share a suspicion of authority and entrenched interests. They believe in the desirability of change.

However, classical liberals and illiberal progressives could hardly disagree more over how to bring these things about. For classical liberals, the precise direction of progress is unknowable. It must be spontaneous and from the bottom up—and it depends on the separation of powers, so that nobody nor any group is able to exert lasting control. By contrast the illiberal left put their own power at the centre of things, because they are sure real progress is possible only after they have first seen to it that racial, sexual and other hierarchies are dismantled.

This difference in method has profound implications. Classical liberals believe in setting fair initial conditions and letting events unfold through competition—by, say, eliminating corporate monopolies, opening up guilds, radically reforming taxation and making education accessible with vouchers. Progressives see laissez-faire as a pretence which powerful vested interests use to preserve the status quo. Instead, they believe in imposing “equity”—the outcomes that they deem just. For example, Ibram X. Kendi, a scholar-activist, asserts that any colour-blind policy, including the standardised testing of children, is racist if it ends up increasing average racial differentials, however enlightened the intentions behind it.

Mr Kendi is right to want an anti-racist policy that works. But his blunderbuss approach risks denying some disadvantaged children the help they need and others the chance to realise their talents. Individuals, not just groups, must be treated fairly for society to flourish. Besides, society has many goals. People worry about economic growth, welfare, crime, the environment and national security, and policies cannot be judged simply on whether they advance a particular group. Classical liberals use debate to hash out priorities and trade-offs in a pluralist society and then use elections to settle on a course. The illiberal left believe that the marketplace of ideas is rigged just like all the others. What masquerades as evidence and argument, they say, is really yet another assertion of raw power by the elite.

Progressives of the old school remain champions of free speech. But illiberal progressives think that equity requires the field to be tilted against those who are privileged and reactionary. That means restricting their freedom of speech, using a caste system of victimhood in which those on top must defer to those with a greater claim to restorative justice. It also involves making an example of supposed reactionaries, by punishing them when they say something that is taken to make someone who is less privileged feel unsafe. The results are calling-out, cancellation and no-platforming.

Milton Friedman once said that the “society that puts equality before freedom will end up with neither”. He was right. Illiberal progressives think they have a blueprint for freeing oppressed groups. In reality theirs is a formula for the oppression of individuals—and, in that, it is not so very different from the plans of the populist right. In their different ways both extremes put power before process, ends before means and the interests of the group before the freedom of the individual.

Countries run by the strongmen whom populists admire, such as Hungary under Viktor Orban and Russia under Vladimir Putin, show that unchecked power is a bad foundation for good government. Utopias like Cuba and Venezuela show that ends do not justify means. And nowhere at all do individuals willingly conform to state-imposed racial and economic stereotypes.

When populists put partisanship before truth, they sabotage good government. When progressives divide people into competing castes, they turn the nation against itself. Both diminish institutions that resolve social conflict. Hence they often resort to coercion, however much they like to talk about justice.

If classical liberalism is so much better than the alternatives, why is it struggling around the world? One reason is that populists and progressives feed off each other pathologically. The hatred each camp feels for the other inflames its own supporters—to the benefit of both. Criticising your own tribe’s excesses seems like treachery. Under these conditions, liberal debate is starved of oxygen. Just look at Britain, where politics in the past few years was consumed by the rows between uncompromising Tory Brexiteers and the Labour Party under Jeremy Corbyn.

Aspects of liberalism go against the grain of human nature. It requires you to defend your opponents’ right to speak, even when you know they are wrong. You must be willing to question your deepest beliefs. Businesses must not be sheltered from the gales of creative destruction. Your loved ones must advance on merit alone, even if all your instincts are to bend the rules for them. You must accept the victory of your enemies at the ballot box, even if you think they will bring the country to ruin.

In short, it is hard work to be a genuine liberal. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, when their last ideological challenger seemed to crumble, arrogant elites lost touch with liberalism’s humility and self-doubt. They fell into the habit of believing they were always right. They engineered America’s meritocracy to favour people like them. After the financial crisis, they oversaw an economy that grew too slowly for people to feel prosperous. Far from treating white working-class critics with dignity, they sneered at their supposed lack of sophistication.

This complacency has let opponents blame lasting imperfections on liberalism—and, because of the treatment of race in America, to insist the whole country was rotten from the start. In the face of persistent inequality and racism, classical liberals can remind people that change takes time. But Washington is broken, China is storming ahead and people are restless.

A Liberal Lack of Conviction

The ultimate complacency would be for classical liberals to underestimate the threat. Too many right-leaning liberals are inclined to choose a shameless marriage of convenience with populists. Too many left-leaning liberals focus on how they, too, want social justice. They comfort themselves with the thought that the most intolerant illiberalism belongs to a fringe. Don’t worry, they say, intolerance is part of the mechanism of change: by focusing on injustice, they shift the centre ground.

Yet it is precisely by countering the forces propelling people to the extremes that classical liberals prevent the extremes from strengthening. By applying liberal principles, they help solve society’s many problems without anyone resorting to coercion. Only liberals appreciate diversity in all its forms and understand how to make it a strength. Only they can deal fairly with everything from education to planning and foreign policy so as to release people’s creative energies. Classical liberals must rediscover their fighting spirit. They should take on the bullies and cancellers. Liberalism is still the best engine for equitable progress. Liberals must have the courage to say so. ■

[circlecast]

I Have A Confession

The Question of the Week - Brought to you by The Brotherhood of Men

Read Bryan Goodwin's answer to Do you feel that you are appreciated as a father? on Quora

Question by Roderick Wrenn

The topic of the week

Hey men, This week is sort of a confessional that I want to get started and out in the open. Now I could start with an excuse and say that the problems I had this year were all because of 2020. Yet we both know that is an excuse and crap. Everything I talk about this week is my fault and I take full responsibility for the shortcoming I have had.

I have failed this year in many ways. I have failed you. I failed friends and Family, and I have failed myself. How? Well, I will be jumping into that.

For us to be relaxed men we have to have integrity, and for this year, I left integrity in the dirt. I seemed to have dropped it time and time again. Thinking that I was going to do better only to throw it harder into the dirt.

There are 4 pillars to being a relaxed male, and if I am going to have you follow this path I need to be on this path too, and I have not been on it at all. There were a few times that I danced around like I was on it but if I'm being honest I wasn't. Those pillars are the Man's Mind Man's Body, Man's Soul, and the Man's Community. Want to know which ones I failed in? All of them.

The Man's Body

How much exercise and upkeep have I done this year? None. I walked 3 miles one day while I was on vacation. That wasn't walking around a town that was an intentional walk. I had a hole where I was going to walk at least 15 minutes each day and I didn't do that. I started out well. but about 3 weeks into the year I was forced to sleep on a highway exit and I didn't feel safe walking on the side of the road. Yet because I stopped that I completely stopped. Didn't try to go walking again.

I did lose about 25 pounds but that was because I got back into another habit that I kicked about 8 years ago. that habit was smoking. I smoked from pretty much the start of the year till Dec 8 at 11:15 am. I ran out of cigarettes and decided today was as good as any to quit and so I did.

Starting back up was me thinking I was going to be able to control it. Yet also knowing that it is uncontrollable. It took no time at all for me to fall back into the habit of lighting up after meals. driving, sex, all those times that smoking is very satisfactory. The drawbacks also showed back up very fast. The sore lungs. The smoker's cough and phlegm you cough up in the morning. The shame I felt of letting myself down, and worse realizing that I was not living up to the standards I need to be.

I did learn why smoking is so nice and I have set my jaw to never have one of those items again. I see why other addicts can fall back into their own ways so easily because we lie to ourselves. We say we can handle it this time and that is not true.

So I haven't been working on my Body infact I have been abusing that body this year. That is going to stop.

How am I going to stop that?

Well, I am going to start doing exercises one I can do in the truck or on the trailer bed. I am knocking smoking out of my lungs. I am stopping the do as I say not as I do actions that have never brought anybody any integrity and start taking steps to get healthy. Eating right and tackling overeating. I have to do that or I will balloon back up to 275-280. I am going to start loving myself for who I am. I am going to start honoring my body instead of cursing it.

These are some of what I will be working on in relation to my body.

Man's Mind

Now I have probably listened to more books than I have ever listened to books in the past. The problem I have noticed is that I don't read. The addiction to electronics in my life is as much out of control as ever. I haven't addressed this till now. I have to get back into reading physical books. There are some key points that I need to understand by reading physical hard copies of books.

I have also fallen out of a couple of my mastermind groups. I was making great headway but my motivation has slipped. So I will be looking fr a couple of new Mastermind groups that are for me and some other people who are wanting to get their business off the ground. I need help and people to push me. I lack the needed accountability to fully get up to the speed I need. I realize that this also requires self-discipline and that is something I am going to be fighting through. I will become better at self-disciplined this year.

Man's Soul

When it comes to my soul it is this calling I have. I have questioned whether coaching is my calling or just a dream. Yet I find myself time again called to help people who see things in a scarcity mindset or in the pits of victimhood. Now I have yet to really get people to make changes that will help them and that is because they are people that I know and I haven't really given them any reason to believe in the power of change because again I have no integrity. SO I have to learn that I have to step back and let them suffer and decide when to come to me. How do I get them to come to me? I have to make the needed changes in myself to show them and you that change is possible. I believe it but I have yet to display or apply those changes.

Man's Community

This is the hard one. I like staying home and working on the blog and planning videos and such, but the lack of meeting people is what is truly holding me back. I have to get out of my comfort zone and start putting myself out there. How? Well, that is the rub ain't it? I believe the best place I can find people who would like to accept me and maybe be able to help them in return is for me to join a church. The church is the only gathering I can think of that goes on during the weekend.

I have many different arguments in my head about getting out and meeting people and I understand what those arguments are. It is fear and comfort. I have to fight against those thoughts that are keeping me small. Follow the fear and use it as a compass. So I believe the church is the best place to start. From there maybe I can Find out exactly what men are looking for when it comes to helping their sons.

What am I going to do?

This is where I am making some major changes. Those changes are I am stepping away from the normal goal setting that I used to use. I am seeing that I need systems in place to help me make those goals. I will use goals but I will not just make goals and trying for them. I am making goals and then set up systems so that I am getting closer each time.

Much like my 100 visitors a day goal. This year I have gotten even closer to my goals than I have ever before. I am averaging 30-40 visitors a day. My system is to put out 3 pieces of content each week. I then make sure those pieces of content are shared on as many different social media sites as possible.

As you can see my appearance in search engines is getting better.

So I will share what my systems are going to be for each goal in the next episode.

Newest podcast episode to change your Mindset

#Mindset Anxiety RelaxedMale

[survivorreelsmagicwithin]

Episode 10- “My only purpose in this game now is to serve my ever loving lord and savior, Ruthie”-Dan

I am crying for Owen leaving.  I don't know WHO did it, I can't math and this really fucking hurts my heart I don't know who was lying about it. 

12 minutes later

I've made a zillion confessionals and the fact that lily and landen went behind my back and freaking orchestrated the entire owen vote REALLY makes me mad.  things I told them in confidence that they have probably shared with EVERYONE that is left it just really makes me EXTREMELY mad. I've got to put my game face on but I am really disappointed in all of them. Like if they would have come to me and said, lets get owen!  I WOULD have thought about it because I've said all along that they are the ones I trust the most and I'm just SO livid right now.  I have a slew of messages from Lily and like THE ONE PERSON HERE I THOUGHT I COULD TRUST GOES AND DOES THIS TO ME. Okay I'm breathing but I still haven't replied to anyone I tried  to post something witty in the house chat LOL. like abby lee miller says... SAVE YOUR TEARS FOR THE PILLOW!  I'm going to get my game face on and try to see... if I'm in good with anyone at all I don't even know.   The competitor in me knows that Owen NEEDED to go if I want to win but this was all SHADY AS FUCK.  I NEVER CURSE AND I HAVE CURSED MORE IN THESE THINGS TODAY THAN I HAVE IN A MONTH. 

WHEW. BIG WHEW. That was the most wild day of my life but I’m really proud with how I handled myself and took charge of my game. I didn’t like how things were going ruthie or landen. I crawled and scratched all day talking to almost everyone. I start the day with Owen and somehow through all this it happened. I guess that’s why you don’t settle on a vote! Landen and I were so close to settling. I was also close to voting chips. I literally changed my vote three times. Joanna then chips then Owen. I’m happy I’m making moves and finding my own but I am nervous with how this will end. Dan is PISSED. I didn’t mean for him to play his advantage but in the end I’m glad he did. I wondering how the rest of this game is going to go but I’m hoping that those who really say they have my back have my back. Owen added me to an alliance with me ruthie and dan because he trusted us most. I thought that was odd since Owen hadn’t talked game to me privately since I had voted him at the last tribal. In the end I think he would have tried to work with me but I think Owen and dan if they make it to the end they have a high probability of winning. I don’t know if I can trust to work with Dan at this point. I think he is too mad and will play me later on which I get. This game definitely isn’t getting any easier!

oh y'all are in for a treat- we doing video confessionals ALL merge kids! Welcome to the 3 part saga of the Final 11 Vote, where I get cut off by my birth control alarm, the tribal council call, and some bullshit all in the span of 30 minutes whew

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1ShZLFvoQ96aSRUHBUMzuoNkxB93eph60/view?usp=sharing 

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1SBAw--aQAtzQCtUwSP9EaCeMRTymJ8P3/view?usp=sharing

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Vyag5Bijk1-L7NyAumeYDk7z3z_Q2p6m/view?usp=sharing

Sorry for ugly crying y'all LSDJFLDSJF.  Also, this happened while the video was uploading but Dan ALSO gave me some other kind of advantage that I don't really understand I'm... confused. Anyway, I hope that things get better soon so that he and I can take on the game together. <3 https://youtu.be/745M9EmNtT4

Well well well! You know it wasn't exactly the prettiest path there, but at the end of the day, I got what I wanted with the vote. I have to admit my feelings are just a little hurt, because at the beginning of the round, when I pushed to vote out Owen with Autumn, Kevin, Juls, Jules, and Lily, Autumn was so irritated with me that she began to push the target onto me and blow things way out of proportion when I was literally just pushing a simple idea. Anyway I then had to fight with everything I have to make sure the votes were on Ruthie instead, I had to have Juls and Jules go up to bat for me, while also pitching my case to Owen and Kevin and getting all the votes back on Ruthie. I did all that work and then 5 minutes before the Deadline Kevin says one thing to Jules and that's enough to entirely shift the vote and get Owen eliminated? Like it doesn't matter when Ravenclaw is clearly coming for me (Fuck off Dan), I'm expendable, but now that they're coming for you, oh, Hell will be rained down upon us. Yeah that's bullshit, but it's fine. Unlike some people, I'm not going to let my emotions impact my game and go on a targeting tirade against Autumn or something even though she really rubbed me the wrong way today and lost a lot of my trust and faith in her. That's her bad for having a messy social game, when she could've kept me as a close ally who was blindly ready to follow and trust her and she fucked that up, so that's her mistake. Not my loss, I still have half the game wanting to protect me yo. The jury as it stands right now does not look too hot in regards to my winning chances.. :P Max would definitely vote for me I think, but Jacob C and Owen.. yeah probably not. I could see Owen voting for me but I think he's understandably pissed that he sacrificed a lot for me and it didn't go well for him. But again that was his mistake, I told him to keep the vote on Ruthie and that we shouldn't be trying to do any secondary plans, and he didn't listen to me. Everyone keeps not listening to me and it's very frustrating bc I keep being right about everything, but oh well. Sometimes that's just the way it rolls in Survivor and you have to accept it until you have the power to get what you want done DONE, that's the patience and hard work of Hufflepuff speaking luv. TENACITY! .....Now, Dan reacted to this vote terribly. Honestly I would pop off and write a bunch of essays, but let's just say Dan has always been really condescending and just dismissive. He has an incessant need for control in the game and he literally like.. BLEW THE FUCK UP because of one simple vote??? So useless, and so gaslighty. Disrespectful to act like he's gonna quit, too. Just quit then. But whatever, Dan's tantrum is just adding more of a target on his back and taking all the target AWAY from me so I'm more than okay with that!! :D I think there will also be another target on Ruthie yet again because people will still be nervous about Hufflepuff numbers. Possibly a small target on Joanna for her inactivity and just general bad position in the game (which sucks to say given what's going on in her personal life, but that's just how it goes sometimes). At this rate though what I really need to focus on is jury management and improving some of my rockier relationships, because I think after this vote, I have survival down pat for a few rounds, which is great since I also have the idol to use for later when it comes down to it. We'll see what all happens though, this has been me reporting on the mess... What a time!

My PM's are EXTREMELY dry and it really irritates me.  Right now I feel like the entire tribe (minus Dan) are against me.  Landen and I talk every morning and it just sucks.  I did a lot of thinking last night and I've come to the conclusion that Landen is running this game and he is TIGHT with everyone.  I think that I can play off that I still want to work with him and Lily but I have to figure out a way to get Jules or Juls out to weaken him.   Owen gave me a lot of information yesterday that Juls and Jules were pushing for me to go and that Dan and Autumn wanted Landen to go.  I'm pretty sure Dan will vote however I ask him to and if Autumn and I could form some kind of bond... I need to see where Lily and I are because maybe she, Autumn and I... and maybe Kevin and someone else? could work together to bring someone out of the group of Landen/Juls/Jules down, and Dan would definitely vote with us. I ultimately feel like my name is mud right now, so this round I am going to just sit back and do more listening than talking. 

It has been rough in real life for me these past couple of days. In game drama doesn't make it better. Apparently Owen wanted to vote me out and then messaged me that he was worried his name was being thrown around. I, who was in the middle of having a mental breakdown, did not respond. It's funny when all I want to do is vote with the majority I don't vote with majority. I'm really frustrated with real life right now, I don't want this game to be frustrating too. I'm still going to try my best because I want to win this game, I just wish it was easier to do so.

OF COURSE.... I tie... with the person that wants me to go home, LOL. We were talking right before results though and have maybe cleared the air.

Now here comes my favorite part of the game where we all wait until tomorrow with like 4 hours left to the deadline to scramble and agree on the vote when if people just stopped being fake and safe and all angsty about "PARANOID BULLSHIT" then we could all easily come to the conclusion that we are splitting the votes on Dan and Joanna now instead of like 10 years from now. Pls. i don't see anyone other than the 2 of them and ruthie getting votes here, and if it happens this game is cancelled.

Chips is literally the only one talking to me right now and it is SO awkward, LOL. UH.  lJFJSLF i shouldn't feel so guilty HE WAS VOTING FOR ME!!!!  I AM NOT THE ONLY BAD GUY IN THAT EQUATION. 

My only purpose in this game now is to serve my ever loving lord and savior, Ruthie

It's so quiet today! I'm trying to figure out why... Did Lily tell people about my idol in a bid to change the vote yesterday and now this is a plan to flush my idol now because they couldn't get rid of it last time? Is Lily completely loyal to me and Im wrong for even SUSPECTING that and I'm just super paranoid and really people are just busy/don't wanna come online rn? That doesn't seem to be the case... I've definitely lost before because I don't trust my gut about the day being quiet as hell. *I GLANCE AT YOU THREE HOSTS VOTING ME OUT IN THE QUIETEST DAY EVER.*  I feel like I need to do more to survive but I've been put in an awkward position because I was told last round that I am 'too much' and should stop fighting to survive bc people view me as paranoid and pushy. So I am trying to exercise some self-restraint, but also I don't want to wait too long before I have a chance to genuinely figure out what the hell is going on and change this vote. I feel like there are some likely scenarios. 1 - People know about my idol, and they're trying to flush it by spooking me out when the vote is really on Dan 2 - People are trying to vote Dan but are very worried about him having 2 idols, so they're maybe putting some votes on me as well? 3 - People are trying to vote out Ruthie and don't want to tell me and Lily because of how they think that we're the ones who worked overtime to keep Ruthie safe and they're very concerned about Hufflepuff numbers 4 - People are straight up trying to vote me after Ruthie made up with Jules last night (maybe Jules revealed that I sold Ruthie out?) I am getting really ominous vibes from just the whole layout of this vote right now. I don't like it at all and I feel like something mysterious is going on, like people definitely did something weird that I don't understand and I'm just trying to put my mind 2 steps ahead of everyone else and I feel like I'm falling backwards. I have no idea what's going on tonight but I know it's not as simple as people are telling me like people are not being honest with me and that's pissing me off because I've been nothing but honest and kind with these people, consistently. :/  WHY. ARE. THERE. MIND GAMES. RN!

Honestly, this is a make or break part of the game for me. I had my tantrum and now, I'm trusting everyone to not vote me out tonight??? Autumn did some leg work to try and get the vote on L*ly.  So I'm hoping that happens. I could play my idol tonight and throw a vote on like Kevin or Landen or somebody just in case there is another idol play? I'm not sure. All I know is that if I play my idol, I'll be here for another round for sure, but if I don't, I could be the dumbest player ever!

I... don't know how I keep getting myself into these messes, haha. I don't know what I'm going to go, here I am thinking everything is going to be all fine and dandy and kind of chill and KEVIN HEARD THAT I THREW LILY'S NAME OUT... which I didn't, Dan mentioned Autumn would vote her and I told Autumn that I didn't really trust Lily and Landen and she just kind of went with it but then... if it got back to Kevin I kind of think that it was my idea I think that I'm screwed. I just feel like there is this huge wedge between the two people that I was the closest to in this game and me now and I don't know how to fix it so I'm just going to vote one of them out??? I...  have been so messy this season, lol. I gave Dan back his idol but he says he is going to send it back to me if he decides not to use it... we are playing idol tag. 

I am a damn TRAINWRECK this round!! I tried so hard to hold myself back from talking to people a ton and getting worked up and into a frenzy about this vote but here I am, now trying to hit up like seven different people. I've never felt so confused about a vote before, it's so weirdly quiet and I have no idea why and nothing makes sense and what the HELL is going on???? Like I'm... I'm straight up lost and confuzzled. At this rate I'm just gonna drop that idol like it's hot regardless because I have no idea wtf is happening and it's better to waste it than to go out with it in my pocket, right? ...I think???? Or maybe stuff will come out and I'll feel more confident later and I won't play it, I dunno! All I know is whatever's going around right now doesn't match the vibes I normally get from these people ever and it's FREAKIN me the hell out. 

So pretty opposite of the last vote. No one is talking. No one is sharing ideas. No names. Except dan and it’s 8:30? I think it’s gonna be a split vote tonight because who knows if dan is really gonna play his idol. The only person at this point that I trust 95% is Landen. He has told me the truth about what he thinks genuinely and told me he has the merge idol. I feel a little sketched out by Kevin and Ruthie from last round but I do think they would at least be honest and tell me if I was going to be the one voted out if they knew. I’m trying hard to work with autumn but she’s a tough cookie! She has something up her sleeve and I’m not sure of what just yet. All I know is it’s hard to trust anybody out here but is that really a surprise?

tell me why this game is still stressful...when i have immunity and PURPOSELY aint trying to do anything besides vibe...WHY AM I STILL STRESSED!!!!!!!!

Hm.. found out in the last ten minutes before votes were due that a bunch of people were voting me. Unsurprising (I guess at this point...) it is led by Owen someone who is supposed to be in a alliance with me. Choices? Anyway, Jules let me know that I was being thrown under the bus and asked if I would be down to flip on Owen. Yeah. Sure. If he wants to vote me I'll vote him?? Looks like something similar is happening this round. It might not be be me but why let myself think so. Dan is the "obvious vote" because he decided he's not aligned with anyone and outed that he had an idol but the group wants to turn on Lily this round. I dunno I guess I'd be cool voting Lily? She hasn't really worked solidly with me so far and I need to get into smaller numbers before I feel safe making any "bold" plays since a lot of these people have been wishy-washy up to this point.

HAHAHAHAHA I’m at work !!! AGAIN!!!! anyways people wanna do lily but that’s sketchy bc dans idol needs flushing I think autumn is working with dan I just told landen and lily who weren’t supposed to know about the vote bc I don’t want lily to go I hoped one of them had an idol but they don’t so well. Here we are. I might’ve screwed myself over here but I think I was screwed either way tbh just with how the rounds would’ve played out with Lily going then probs Landen (dan maybe plays idol) but then me juls/jules are in trouble after that point bc I think autumn and dan have something going on and Ruthie is in on it bc she is close to dan so. Here we are. Good Luck Charlie. (I’m Charlie)

I honestly feel so bad right now.  Lily does NOT deserve this but I think that it will appease everyone and she is a great player that I would not like to be sitting at the end with, I feel like she would easily win over me. 

I just got into an alliance chat with Lily and Landen (Double L cute) with me and Autumn my F2 and then Joanna who apparently knows nothing until Autumn tells her. It's neat because I ALREADY know how I'm setting myself up not to win this season more and more as I continue to play the merge portion poorly. We are going to vote out Ruthie because she's a double agent with Kevin so maybe they are another duo in the game? Guess we'll see how this goes.

[survivor-iceland]

Ep. 13 - “So its been a dayyyyyyy Jayyyyyyy” - Jack

Timmy

How in the fuck am I still here?!?! I'm overjoyed and this is incredible. Tbh Jack totally just fucked his game but this is so good for me, even if I get out at 6, I still made it a little further than I thought I would've. Also, Raffy really popped the fuck off and it was so funny to watch. I'm just in a really good mood right now.

Maynor

I cant believe idol play was amazing but it wasnt needed. Sjdbsb it was 4-3 for Jack to go is crazy. And im so happy that Timmy stayed in the game. I dont want to play the game without him. So im super happy that he’s still in. We need to win this immunity and keep it away from zoe and Raffy. We need those options open. And also try n keep the idol away from them.

Raffy

Last night was a wild trip. Firstly, I cannot believe Ellie would betray us like that when Maynor is still in this fucking game. No one, except me, seems to think that he's going to win if we keep letting him have control of the game. It's as if I am in a game with a bunch of sheep where I am the only free thinker. This applies to Jack too since he voted out Ellie instead of Timmy in the revote. Like imagine keeping Timmy in this game when he has done so much!!! Like we just keep letting them get away with things and we just keep letting them have control of the game. I'm sick of it!!! I can only trust Zoe now since apparently everyone else is too brain dead to see the obvious threats in this game. I pretended to be fake mad to Jack in order to keep him on our side. I told him that my aggression was a ploy to make them think that he's on their side. I mean I was real mad, but he doesn't need to know that. I don't know whether the lie worked or not, but I just need to find an idol or win immunity because I am sick of Maynor and Timmy being like cockroaches in the nuclear fallout. Like??????? And don't get me started on the goat Joseph who doesn't even know how to talk to people properly. All of them can go fuck off for all I care. 

Raffy

Well I didn't find the idol, and I know that Jack is on the other path with that BS rotating puzzle. So, tomorrow I'll be doing the tundra and hopefully find it before anyone else, otherwise my time in this game is running out. I don't know how well I will do with the immunity challenge, but I have to be confident to do well. I'm praying that Zoe found something because we desperately need it if onyl to prevent Maynor from having it.  

Raffy

Also this is the mood for the rest of the game for John and Ellie and maybe Zoe if she doesn't make it to FTC with me:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P0U_Cdrbols

Timmy

Raffy is so fucking smug. He laughed whenever someone messed up in the challenge and basically almost cackled when Maynor and I got it. Like don’t fucking kick me when I’m down. 6th is my Achilles heel and I’m already freaking out. 

Jack

So its been a dayyyyyyy Jayyyyyyy. First Zoe comes in here like, "hey my idol still works" so my and raffy and zoe are like okayyyy we have to freaking one of us get immunity so its at least 2/3 and then zoe wins, and then moments later i finished the HELL PUZZLE WITH THE POINTY IDENTICAL LOOKING PIECES AND BACKGROUND and whoops i found the idol, so theoretically the three of us are like 3/3 safe and can vote out maynor. He's a sweet guy but like yeet. Raffy might be in trouble if zoe like wigs out and doesnt use the idol on him/ was like totally bullshitting about it? but i hope she aint cause yeah

Raffy

I'm glad that Zoe won the immunity challenge because it keeps safety away from both Maynor and Timmy. I wanted to win it, but I am proud that Zoe was able to either way. Her idol will be extremely useful going into this next round as we are planning to use it on me in order to make sure that 2/3 of us are safe tonight. Additionally, if the votes ends up tying 3-3, we can make sure that Jack is safe by revoting and keeping him in this game. Although, I doubt it has to come to that because Jack has also found an idol from the rehidden hunt. This means that all three of us will be safe going into this next tribal council unless they have an idol nullifier. Even then they still can only nullify one which means we're still the dominating force. Basically all is looking on the bright side for Raffy in this vote, and I hope things go smoothly in spite of my confidence.

Jack

I don't remember if I already made a confessional on this, but i found an idol, so now Zoe has immunity, she's gonna play her idol on Raffy, and imma play mine on me. Timmy's been hitting me and Zoe up about flipping on Raffy but we ain't doin thatttttt. Also Joseph was like "what happened in the challenge," and then was like what you thinkinnnnnnn. Maynor in general is like kinda accepted fate vibes. Hopefully everything goes well tonight.

Timmy

I’m distraught and upset. I guess it’s pretty much guaranteed that either myself or Maynor will be leaving tomorrow. I’m so sad and he deserves to stay so much and deserves to win and if he stays, I will not regret anything I did in this game. I want him to be happy and I know he belongs in this game and seeing him happy makes me so happy. 

Raffy

The plan right now is for Zoe to use her idol on me and for Jack to use his idol on himself so that we are all safe at tribal council tonight. My FTC plan right now is Zoe, Joseph, and I. I love Jack, but he needs to go because I feel like he beats me at the end. He has an amazing redemption arc, and he has pulled off so many things in his short time here without many social connections. That's pretty impressive. However, I want to take him out at F5 or F4 because I still need him on my side. My boot order currently is Maynor -> Timmy -> Jack. However, Jack is also good at challenges which means I have to pry the immunity necklace from his hands. I know I can beat him. I just have to go out there and do it. 

Maynor

Tonight might be my last night in the game and its bittersweet. I feel like i played a good game. I also feel like i was given credit for the moves Ive made. I am very proud of myself, and usually im always very hard on myself. I feel like this was my most out there game play ive had and im still very in aw that i was able to pull off a 4-3-3, vote 3-2-2 vote, able to flip Jack to vote Ellie saving Timmy, found an idol and many things. This has been a favorite game even though i might be out tonight. Like they know Ive played hard and i kept fighting to stay in this game. Tribal is going to be 3-3. We are voting jack (me timmy joseph) and (zoe raffy jack) are most likely voting for me once again. I hope. Jack has the idol cuz he did the trees path were i knew it was going to be at but my dumbass decided to do mountain instead. Jack is either going to use his idol on Raffy to try n avoid a tie or of jack plays it on himself and he negates all his votes. Either way. We are going to lose someone and they arent. So whatever happens tonight i will be content with cuz ive done everything that i could to try and survive. ❤️ Jay for having me back. Youre the best. Love you. ❤️

Maynor

My thoughts on 5 of the Final 6 people in the game: 1. Jack- oh the second boot. Was very paranoid early of this game and its understandable. Did good in EOE and returned to the game. Seemed to fall into place to Raffy’s side by not even talking to me or people who were working with me. Made his own ‘move’ by doing Ellie during F7 vote. But honestly it was not a good move for him. Even though I preached Jack has his own story. Honestly, he is still kind of a goat. No one would vote for him to win over others left in the game. Going to the end with Zoe and Raffy is his death sentence but going also everyone else in the game is his death sentence. 2. Joseph- people are saying he is a goat but that is not necessarily true. He has made moves in this game to help his position in it. He took the opportunity at f10 to make a move. Again with John vote. Dylan vote as well. Same with Jack that turned to Ellie vote off. The moves he has made were to help him make it to the end. People are underestimating his game play and if he makes it to the end then he really deserves to win it. Especially over like Jack. Also Raffy and Zoe tbh. 👀 MaynorPart 2: 3. Zoe- Zoe is a good player. But gameplay this season, i dont think she deserves the win. She was already voted out. All her strategic moves did not go according to plan. Was over confident and cocky and comfortable in the game. Wasnt going to make it to the final 7 anyways because her allies Raffy and Dylan were going to take her out. Her game play after making it back into the game due to eoe has made her into a goat. Like if someone votes for her to win its due to them being bitter over everyone else. She didnt try to make connections with everyone. She went right back to the people she was working with. And you can feel the ooze of over confidence when she said “im fitting in perfectly” when her as only talked to Raffy and ellie and Jack. So 🤷‍♂️ Honestly social game aint that good either. 4. Raffy- oh boi. Raffy raffy. Were do I start. None of his plans have happened besides the Stephen vote and even that he said it wasnt his move. Gave it to Dylan. So 🤷‍♂️ What moves has he done really? Hes been rude to a few people here and honestly leaves a bad taste in my mouth (game wise) cuz its been more game talk from him. He gets mad when things dont go his way and just starts yelling at people that they made the bad decision. But he still fought in this game. I would gove my vote to him over people like Zoe and Jack. MaynorPart 3: 5. Timmy- can i say how proud i am with Timmy this season. His social game was amazing and strong. He had people wanting to work with him and was in a good spot for a bit. He felt in the bottom and made a move. Since then has been fighting to stay in the game. Got ellie to flip on her alliance. Said Dylan’s name for the target. He played an idol on me instead of himself. He really did all that in this game and he has a big shot to win this game. He just has to reach the final 3. I feel that he can do that. He’s a great person and honestly gunna be sad now going to be able to finish this game with him. Would have been amazing to be able to sit with him at the end of the game. But alas ive made myself into a huge target that no one would want to work with me to get to the end and i understand. It just sucks i wont be able to finish this game with him. But he would be a great winner. And he deserves it with the game he has played. Im wishing him the all the luck and sending him good vibes for the rest of the game. ❤️

[hmhteen]

HMH Teen Teasers: WASTE OF SPACE by Gina Damico

WASTE OF SPACE by Gina Damico is unlike any book you’ve ever read. It involves: an intern whistleblower, a government conspiracy, reality TV, NASA, and the 10 teenagers at the center of it all. Told in epistolary format—that means records, documents, journal entries, phone and video transcripts, and more—the book follows each angle of the story as the reader, and the teenagers, get closer and closer to the truth about what really happened behind the scenes of the viral hit TV show Waste of Space...and why the government tried to cover up the truth. 

You can read the first few chapters of WASTE OF SPACE below!

                                                   DV8

                                                   2375 Wilshire Boulevard

                                                   Los Angeles, CA 91523

 National Center for Missing & Exploited Children

Charles B. Wang International Children’s Building

699 Prince St.

Alexandria, VA 22314

May 7, 2017

 To Who It Might Concern:

 As per your request, enclosed are all relevant transcripts of recorded meetings, phone calls, email correspondence, raw video footage, edited-for-broadcast video footage, and confessional interviews used in the production (from development up until the glitch) of the reality television show Waste of Space. We apologize for the admittedly substandard quality of the transcripts; since you insisted on a rushed—some would say unreasonable—deadline, the task to type them up fell to an untrained intern who seems to have inserted personal commentary and conjecture in certain places. A more objective compilation is forthcoming.

 We hope these documents will help you guys with your investigation, though we would be remiss if we did not insist yet again that we officially disavow any responsibility for the incident currently under investigation. Waivers were signed. Parents were informed, or so we thought.

 This isn’t on us.

 Sincerely,

Chazz Young

CEO, DV8 Productions

Author’s Note

Untrained intern here.

       Shortly after my boss wrote the above letter, he instructed me to go down to the post office and mail it, along with the thick packet of documents that accompanied it. On the way, I was to ask his personal courier, Boris, to deliver to the office enough recreational drugs to “stop the heart of an elephant,” as the DV8 team was “super stressed.” Then it was suggested that, in honor of the people who were giving our company so much trouble, I stop by an Edible Arrangements store to buy a symbolic bouquet of “fruits with sticks up their asses.”

       I did none of those things. The packet was not mailed. Fruit was not purchased, sarcastically or otherwise. I spoke to Boris, but about a different matter altogether. Drugs were acquired—but only for me, and only in the form of caffeine. The decision to become a whistleblower is not an easy one, and faced with the daunting task of tearing into that packet of documents and learning things I could not unlearn, I needed a pot of freshly brewed courage.

       The account that follows is my attempt to ascertain what really happened in January and February of the year 2017—not what was reported in the news, not what was claimed afterward in the statements from all parties involved. The evidence I will present is composed of the files found in the aforementioned packet, plus several additional records unearthed over the course of my investigation (some of which were obtained through measures that were not, I admit, strictly legal). All documents are presented in their original states and are labeled with as much information as I could ascertain.

       The full body of evidence calls to mind a jigsaw puzzle at a yard sale—some pieces are missing, some are bent out of shape, and some don’t make sense unless one can see the full picture. The truth may be out there, but I doubt anyone will ever be able to irrefutably prove what it is. All I can hope for is that my version is the closest.

       Full disclaimer: Because I personally knew and/or met most of the witnesses, and as I was watching and listening from behind the scenes throughout many of the events described herein, it’s inevitable that some of my own judgments and criticisms will leak into this report. But I’ll do my best to keep my perspective to a minimum and to interpret the events in an unbiased manner. To that end, I will refrain from telling this story from my point of view, as it is not meant to be a tell-all. From this point forth I’ll let the evidence speak for itself.

       I am not the story here. I, like each of you, was only a helpless witness.

 When I accepted an internship at DV8, I knew it wasn’t going to lead to a Pulitzer. The network isn’t what you’d call “prestigious” or “groundbreaking” or “staffed by literate individuals,” but the road to a degree in journalism is fraught with despair, douchebags, and dead ends, and I was aware of and prepared for that. In today’s competitive job market (especially in an allegedly dying profession), I was ecstatic to land any internship at all. I vowed to throw myself into the inane, unending errands. I’d cheerfully fire off meaningless tweets, retweets, and “impactful hashtags.” I’d withstand indignities and humiliations galore, and after all that, I’d be on my way with six full credits and nary a look back at the eight months of hell I’d had to endure, all in the name of my education.

       But then came Waste of Space.

       And a different type of education presented itself.

         —An Intern

       July 11, 2017

***

Part I

Preproduction

Development

The year is 2017.

       Things aren’t looking good for the future of space exploration. Things aren’t looking good for the state of reality programming, either. It is at this intersection of earnestness and stupidity that the idea for Waste of Space is born.

       Naturally, it involves teenagers.

       And so it comes to pass that in the midst of a rare Los Angeles thunderstorm, a dozen shadowy figures meet in the small hours of the morning at a secret and nefarious location: the Denny’s off Wilshire Boulevard. They take up two tables, eight urns of coffee, and five carafes of orange juice. The astrophysicists wittily order Moons Over My Hammy. The television executives order nothing.

       The following meeting ensues.

Item: Transcript of audio recording

Source: Development meeting

Date: January 2, 2017

  [Note: Due to the difficulty in identifying multiple voices, most speakers have been labeled with their organizations rather than as individuals; this format will be employed in several instances throughout this report.]

     DV8: You’re okay with us recording this, right?

   NASAW: We don’t know what “this” is yet.

   Waiter: [off-mike] Who ordered extra hash browns?

   [thirty seconds of unintelligible chatter, rustling, sound of plates being placed on table and silverware clanging]

   DV8: All right. Now that you’ve got your breakfasts—

   NASAW: Aren’t you going to eat?

   DV8: We don’t have time to eat.

   NASAW: Not even a bagel?

   DV8: Especially not a bagel, Paleo doesn’t—forget it. Back to the matter at hand: our proposal. Chazz?

   [sound of a throat clearing, then a chair scraping across the floor as Chazz Young, CEO of DV8, stands up to address the group]

   Chazz: Ladies and gentlemen of science, I hate to break it to you, but astrophysics isn’t cool anymore. Sure, people embrace technology when it allows them to post photos of epic bacon-wrapped food items, but drag them into a planetarium and you’ll end up with desperate scratch marks on the walls. Funds have been cut, the man on the moon is several decades in the rearview mirror, and the youth of America continue to respond to the vast and impossibly boundless possibilities of outer space with an emphatic yawn.

   NASAW: What about Cosmic Crusades? Cosmic Crusades is cool.

   Chazz: Science fiction is cool. Science is not.

   NASAW: But—

   Chazz: Example: two different panels at Comic Con, one with the cast of a space movie franchise and one with genuine astronauts. Which do you think will be better attended?

   NASAW: [unintelligible grumbling]

   Chazz: Exactly. Likewise, we admit, people have grown bored with the repetitive nature of reality television. They can watch only so many bar fighters, spurned lovers, table flippers, bug eaters, bad singers, and cat hoarders before it all seems like stuff they’ve already seen before. The world is clamoring for something new! Otherwise they’ll have to turn off their devices and go read a book, and we simply can’t have that.

   NASAW: Books aren’t bad!

   Chazz: Books are the worst.

   NASAW: [unintelligible grumbling]

   Chazz: So. You need to drum up interest in the space program, and we need more eyes on more screens. Luckily, we’ve come up with a solution that we feel will be mutually beneficial to both of us.

   NASAW: And that is?

   Chazz: We want to take a bunch of teenagers and shoot them into space.

   [choking noises]

   Chazz: And put it on television.

   NASAW: That’s—er—not possible.

   Chazz: Why not?

   NASAW: Aside from reasons that should be apparent to anyone with a functioning brain stem, it’s a logistical nightmare. They’d need to undergo months of training and health assessments. You’d need a ship big enough to accommodate a cast, crew, equipment—

   Chazz: Oh, we’ll be faking it. The whole thing will be shot on a soundstage. You really think The Real Housewives of Atlantis was filmed at the bottom of the ocean? Please. Those women were so full of silicone they would have floated straight to the surface.

   NASAW: But we thought this would be a purely educational endeavor. Didn’t you say you were from PBS?

   Chazz: Yes! We lied. We’re from DV8.

   NASAW: DV .º.º. 8?

   Chazz: It’s a cable television network with several blocks of programming across multiple platforms, including streaming services, our own website, and every social media outlet there is. We’d like to cram all of them full of this.

   [sound of coffee urns shakily hitting the rims of coffee mugs]

   Chazz: Which is why we need you! Our first choice was obviously NASA, but they not so politely declined. So the low-rent version of NASA it is!

   NASAW: I beg your pardon. We are the National Association for the Study of Astronomy and Weightlessness. We are not some piddling little administration—

   Chazz: Which is exactly why we’d like you to be consultants. We’ll take care of the casting, the production, everything on that end. You, meanwhile, design a convincing space plane—

   NASAW: [overlapping] Spaceship.

   Chazz: —you tell us what all the rumbles and beeps and boops are supposed to sound like, and we’ll bring in the best special effects team money can buy.

   NASAW: But won’t this seem like one big joke? With all due respect to your special effects, not even the major Hollywood movies can get it a hundred percent right. It’s going to look silly.

   Chazz: People believe what they want to believe. Remember America’s Next Top Murderer? Viewers thought that victims were actually being picked off by a serial killer. The network had to start airing a disclaimer before each episode,saying, “No one’s really dying, you morons.”

   NASAW: Are you serious?

   Chazz: Well, I’m paraphrasing.

   NASAW: I’m sorry, I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around this. It just doesn’t seem necessary. We’ve got a bunch of new initiatives in the works—

   Chazz: Snore. Yawn. Coma. Let’s be real. Space is passé, and everyone knows it. But you still need a new generation to carry on that galaxy research gobbledygook, or your life’s work will be nothing more than a sham, right? [hearty laughter] So let’s get them excited. Let’s take a bunch of young, gullible, energetic, absurdly good-looking teenagers, stuff them into a space plane—

   NASAW: [overlapping] Spaceship.

   Chazz: —give them some bullshit training, and tell them they’ll be the first ones ever to set foot on Jupiter!

   NASAW: You can’t set foot on Jupiter. Jupiter is a gas giant.

   Chazz: You’re a gas giant! [sound of high-fiving] That’s what they’ll say. That’s what the kids will say. Comedy gold like that.

   NASAW: But—

   Chazz: Point is, this’ll get the youth of America high on space again. Audiences will watch those beautiful idiots floating out there in zero G and want to be just like them. They’ll buy space suits. They’ll buy that astronaut ice cream that tastes and looks and feels like Styrofoam. The merchandising possibilities alone are astronomical. Pun intended! [sound of more high-fives]

   NASAW: Now, you listen here. I’ve raised teenagers, and if there’s one thing I can tell you about them, it’s that they do nothing but talk. All day long. On the phone, on the computer, to themselves. How do you expect to get a group of high schoolers in on a secret like this and not blab thirty seconds later about how lame and fake it is?

   Chazz: Easy. We tell them it’s real.

   [pause]

   NASAW: You want to trick a group of kids into thinking that they’re actually being launched into space?

   Chazz: Yes.

   NASAW: You want them to think that they’re actually being torn away from their friends and family for months, undertaking a dangerous mission from which they actually might not return?

   Chazz: Yes. Drama.

   NASAW: But isn’t that cruel?

   Chazz: “Cruel” is such a subjective word .º.º.

   NASAW: Not in this case! The entire proposition is morally questionable! I’m sorry, but we—we can’t sign on to do something like this.

   Chazz: Fine. Continue your recruiting efforts in the same way you have been. How’s that going for you?

   [silence]

   Chazz: Envision with us, for a moment: Plucky kids. Touching backstories. Plaintive piano music. They first set foot in the space plane. Their eyes light up. Our intrepit explorers are—

   NASAW: Intrepid.

   Chazz: Huh?

   NASAW: The word you’re attempting to use is “intrepid.”

   Chazz: Pretty sure it’s intrepit. Anyway, the mission commences. Lifelong friendships are formed. Bitter fights erupt. Maybe a slap or two. A slap in zero gravity—that’s never been done before! [sound of a pen scribbling in a notebook] Every eye in America will tune in to check on their new cosmic sweethearts. We’ll edit it down to a half hour each week, plus a live segment tacked on at the end of the show so the cast can wave to their furiously jealous friends in real time. We’ll air it online, too. Live stream, 24/7. Shove it into viewers’ faces until they can’t help but get swept up into it. And before you know it, their impressionable young minds will be putty in your hands. They’ll sign up in droves to join the Cosmic Crusades!

   NASAW: That is a fictional movie featuring fictional space heroes.

   Chazz: All the more reason to bolster their ranks! Point is, once this show airs, you’ll have an entire generation of walking, talking, floating space zombies begging to be a part of it, ready to do your bidding.

   [sound of chairs scraping]

   Chazz: We’ll give you some privacy to discuss.

   [rustling]

   NASAW #1: Has it really come to this?

   NASAW #2: The worst part is, they’re right. We’ve tried so hard, reached out as much as we can, but we still haven’t connected with the voice of today’s youth. These .º.º. people, horrible as they are, do have the kids’ attention.

   NASAW #3: It pisses me off! Sitting here across from these plastic, vapid nincompoops, having to listen to this claptrap. We’re scientists, for Galileo’s sake! People should be looking to us as golden gods of knowledge, worshiping us for our big brains and thick glasses! Why can’t anyone see that?

   NASAW #4: I don’t know. But something has to be done. Something drastic.

   [commotion]

   Chazz: All right, time’s up. What do you say, nerds?

   [long pause]

   NASAW: [dejected] When do we get started?

   Chazz: Casting begins next week!

Casting

Despite the assumed glamour of it all, the logistics of organizing a nationwide audition are tedious, daunting, and involve more screaming fits than one might think. Hundreds of phone calls, emails, contracts, and location deposits go into the organization of the Waste of Space Star Search (pun intended!), and within one breakneck week, all necessary casting and administrative personnel are marshaled and five lucky shopping malls across America are chosen as casting locations.

       Thousands of teenagers show up. Each is photographed, given an applicant number, and paraded before a panel of network representatives. Those deemed attractive enough are admitted through to the interview phase, where casting directors interrogate them on the spot.

       Not a single interview is recorded. DV8’s casting procedures are unconventional at best and impulsive at worst; this is by design, as will be described in the pages ahead. But this particular lack of content may be for the best. Many applicants are desperate, depressed, lonely, and/or starving for attention, the sorts of kids for whom the opportunity to be shot into space would be an improvement in their lives rather than a calamity. The fact that their audition interviews will never see the light of day will be, for many of the applicants in the years to come, a blessing in disguise.

       Besides, the evidence that’s left is, in some ways, far more enlightening.

 ***

The following is a small compendium of documents featuring the applicants hat are eventually chosen as cast members on Waste of Space. Not all final cast members are represented in this selection, and not all documents are particularly relevant to the troubles that befall the show, but they are provided here to offer a bit of insight into the curious mindsets of those who would endeavor to audition for this particular reality program in the first place.

Item: Email

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: December 18, 2016

     Dear Mr. Evans,

   You probably don’t remember me, but we met last month at the “Leaders of Tomorrow” luncheon. I’m the one who lost out on the scholarship. No hard feelings, though! For the chair of the MIT Aerospace Engineering program to take note of my academic achievements and flight simulation skills and even go so far as to label me a “future astronaut”—that was reward enough. I am humbled and honored to have met you, and your vote of confidence means more to me than you can ever know.

   Thank you again for your consideration. I hope our paths cross again one day—in space!

Item: Transcript of audio recording

Source: Chazz’s cell phone voicemail

Date Recorded: January 12, 2017

 Hey Uncle Turd,

   It’s me again. I know you think you can keep blowing me off, but guess what? Circumstances have changed. I think you’ll want to pay attention to me this time.

   But first, let’s talk about how you declined to cast me last summer in Pantsing with the Stars—an egregious oversight, I think it’s now clear. I wept for the unwatchable drivel that you doomed yourself to produce without my tour de force personality in the mix. I can only assume that your foul, idiotic casting directors were felled by the brain-altering effects of a chlamydia outbreak. How else to explain their insistence on my absence? My appeal is boundless. My charisma is unmatched. My pores are impeccable.

   And my middle finger is extended in their direction.

   But you’ve got a chance to make it up to me. I heard about your new show. I want in.

   And this time, I think you want me in too. Would be a shame if that video of you and Mom were to end up in Dad’s inbox.

   Tell me when and where I should show up. Peace OUT.

Item: Post on Cosmic Crusades online forum

Username: LadyBalwayGalway

Posted: January 6, 2017

   [excerpt from page 3 of 5]

   .º.º. and if you freeze the frame at exactly eighty-three minutes and thirty-seven seconds, you can see that the gamma-ray missile that Fekawa Gooe sets up is NOT in fact aimed at the Intragalactic Senate, in fact it’s cocked at an angle of 52.6 degrees, which would in fact point it directly at Lord Balway Galway, WHO, if you’ll RECALL, stated during the Transnebula Peace Talks that his home planet of Gavinjia was sure to escape the conflict unscathed, so OBVIOUSLY the bombing mission was intended as a wake-up call to prove him wrong and send a TELEKINETIC message that .º.º.

Item: Online video

Username: the_entropy_within

Posted: January 8, 2017

   [IMAGE: hands strumming a mandolin while words are spoken over the tuneless chords]

   looking up at the sky /

   and a thought floats by /

   what if the galaxy /

   is just a strawberry /

   and all the stars we see /

   are only flecks of seeds /

   that get stuck in your teeth /

   and increase carbon emissions /

   and line the pockets of corporate America

Item: Social media account

Username: @BacardiParti

     [collection of more than 2,000 photos, half of which are unprintable because they are blurry, the other half of which are unprintable because they feature underage nudity]

 Informative as these documents are, there are two cast members in particular who warrant closer attention. They will emerge as the most crucial players in this chronicle for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is that they personally provide a substantial volume of information about what occurs during production—both of them by way of personal video diary entries, also known in reality television parlance as “confessionals.” A small window into their pre-shooting mental states is provided in the following two documents.

       (It’s also worth pointing out that both cast members choose to express themselves in the form of dispatches to their parents—symbolically in one case, and literally in the other. This is nothing more than a coincidence, but as their body of work will come to show, the bond between children and their absent parents is a complicated one, to put it mildly.)

       The first is a clip from Nico’s personal GoPro video camera. Nico rarely captures himself in the frame of these videos; rather, he uses his words as a soundtrack for the often mundane images he is recording, which are mostly of wherever he happens to be at the time.

Item: Transcript of video recording

Source: Nico’s camera

Battery charge: 100%

Date: January 14, 2017

   [IMAGE: Nondescript room. From the angle of the camera, it seems that Nico is seated at a large table at the center.]

   Nico: [voiceover] Hi Mom. Hi Dad.

   Um.

   I did something stupid.

   [The camera pans downward under the table, now pointing at his feet. They are rested on a skateboard, which he rolls back and forth.]

   I don’t know why I did it. I don’t know how I did it. A lot of systems had to come together to make it happen. My legs had to push me here, my mouth had to say things, my eyes had to make contact with other eyes, my brain had to formulate thoughts, my hamster-size soul had to blow up to ten times its size and pretend to be a lion. And I can honestly say I don’t know how all those things worked in tandem to do what I did.

   I auditioned for a reality show.

   [pause]

   Shit.

   Saying it out loud makes me feel like throwing up.

   [Nico gets up from the chair. Camera pans to window and holds steady on people walking down the sidewalk—a couple, then a woman pushing a stroller, then two men smoking cigarettes.]

   It was like .º.º. like I couldn’t help myself. I’d heard that they were holding auditions at the Queens Center mall, so I told Diego that I was going there to see a movie with some friends—which he didn’t buy, by the way. “What’s wrong with movie theaters in the Bronx? Since when do you have friends in Queens? Why ride the subway for an hour for no reason? Are you out of your mind?”

   All fair questions. Especially that last one.

   But it was the weekend, and I pointed out that I can do whatever I want with my free time, and he washed his hands of me like he always does, so I went. Just to watch. Just to film the people in line. Figured they’d be an interesting crowd. When I got there, I saw the DV8 banner hanging across the entrance, and I thought, obviously I would never audition, obviously that is something for the otherninety-nine percent of the teenage population to embarrass themselves with, but when I went inside .º.º. I got in line.

   Okay, in my defense:

   You know how rough I’ve had it.

   You know how miserable I’ve been.

   (I know you don’t really know. But let’s pretend that you actually watch these videos. That for the past couple of years I have not been pouring the contents of my heart into a digital cache that I’d rather chuck under the B train than let anyone see. Let us pretend that the phrase “pathetic delusion” does not figure into any of this.

   Because the thought of college feels like a five-ton block of concrete pressing on my back, and the thought of getting a job instead feels like the floor is rushing up to squish me against the ceiling. Like I’m trapped in a dungeon in a video game, with all these moving contraptions of torture trying to flatten me into a splat of pixels. Like no matter what I do, the future is going to crush me.

   I wish you were still here. Diego’s all right, but legal guardian-slash-older brother is not the same as parent. And I don’t know why I thought that this show was the answer, but it was something different, a change, an honest-to-God decision in a haze of fuzzy, unknowable .º.º.)

   [Camera pans away from window and focuses on a pair of vending machines in the corner of the room.]

   Anyway. Back to the mall.

   The line was so long, it wrapped all the way past the escalators and ended near Macy’s. I thought, obviously I’m not going to give them my name, obviously I’m not going to forge Diego’s signature on the waiver, obviously I’m not going to stand in that ridiculous line—

   But the line moved fast, and before I could change my mind, my name was called. They brought me into a vacant store where they had set up screens to make little cubicles, like the kind they use in blood drives. There was a cameraman and an interviewer, a woman with a blouse that was cut so low I could see her bra.

   (Sorry for that detail, Mom, but I couldn’t not notice. It was staring me in the face, and I’m a healthy adolescent boy.)

   (Dad, it was bright turquoise with little rhinestones. You get what I’m saying.)

   She asked me all sorts of awful questions, and I answered them. Told her my age, where I’m from, that I’m into skateboarding and shooting videos. To be honest, I don’t remember most of what I said, because it all went by so fast, and she kept nodding, so I kept talking—and also, you know, the bra. All I remember is that her face lit up like Yankee Stadium when I told her you were dead, and after that, it all felt like a done deal. That’s when the dread started, the feeling that this might actually happen. Like I’d stepped into a pool of sticky tar and it wasn’t going to let me go.

   I mean that literally. They wouldn’t let me go.

   They brought me into this break room, told me to wait, and closed the door.

   [Camera pans to door handle. Hand reaches out to jiggle it.]

   Locked.

   They ducked their heads in about fifteen minutes ago and said that it shouldn’t be much longer, they’ll be reaching a decision soon.

   Shit. Shit shit.

   I mean, even if I do get cast, it’s not like I have no choice in the matter, right?

   Obviously I can say no.

   Obviously I’m not going to do it.

 The final pre-taping document is another video, this time featuring cast member Titania. She is in a public restroom, aiming her phone camera at the mirror. She looks straight into the lens.

Item: Transcript of video recording

Source: Titania’s cell phone

Date: January 15, 2017

     Titania: Remember Trackleton’s Guide to the Big Outdoors?

   Cute little picture book that you bought for three ninety-nine at the ranger’s station. The pages were held together with a plastic coil. It had maps of Washington’s hiking regions. And it followed Trackleton, that charming, bearded outdoorsman, as he went on adventures.

   His catchphrase was “Keep moving. Keep exploring.” Advice so good it became our family motto.

   You read it every time we went camping, which added up to a lot of readings over the years. We used to snuggle into our sleeping bags, and you would read it aloud to us by the lantern light, as little black specks of bugs giving a shadow puppet performance against the walls of our tent.

   [Titania’s reflection smiles.]

   We loved that book. Patrick liked the colorful maps. Nathan liked to chew on the coil. Lily made up songs to go along with the words—remember how you used to tell her to sing quietly so the rest of us could still hear you read? As if that girl would ever stop singing.

   [Her smile fades.]

   I’ve been thinking a lot about that book lately. About Trackleton’s cheery optimism and can-do attitude. I hadn’t for years, not since it slipped out of Dad’s pack during the hike through the Columbia River Gorge. But after our last trip—the trip—it all came rushing back to me. I can’t get it out of my head. And I finally realized why.

   It had only two rules: Keep moving. Keep exploring. Hard and fast, with no room for error. Don’t overthink them, don’t second-guess them, and everything will work out.

   But life isn’t like that at all. Keep moving, and maybe you’ll succeed. Or not. Keep exploring, and maybe you’ll be happy. Or not. Do both, and they could lead to the best possible outcome.

   Or do both, and they could ruin everything.

   Keep moving, keep exploring.

   I’d always thought it was good advice. The best advice.

   But I’m not so sure anymore.

 The applicants are impressive enough to warrant this response from Chazz Young, the CEO of DV8, delivered via an all-staff conference call.

Item: Transcript of audio recording

Source: Chazz’s cell phoneDate: January 16, 2017

   Chazz Young: Hey guys! Chazz here.

   So I’d like to bring the entire DV8 family up to speed on our new project. As mentioned at the companywide meeting last week, this project is going to be groundbreaking. It’s going to break, like, every ground that’s been put there since television started.

   So over the past week we’ve been holding casting sessions in cities around the country, and—hang on a sec, before I go any further, we all need to give up some mad, mad props to the publicity department. Thanks to your commercials, press releases, and social media efforts, over ten thousand kids came out to audition! That’s a lot of hormones to shoot into orbit!

   So as usual, we’re implementing the classic smash-and-grab casting technique our network has become famous for. Any of you out there who are new to the DV8 family, allow me to elaborate on our patented selection process. Back when we were a tiny fledgling network that didn’t know any better, we dragged out the audition process for weeks. We left no stones unturned, no cell phones untapped. We were thoroughly exhaustive in our attempts to pinpoint what potential castmates might do to one another.

   But let us recall the season four finale of Alaskan Sex Igloo. We had thought, based on Saffron’s tendency to fly off the handle and start stabbing things, that she would break one of the icicles off the ceiling and use it to stab Khaleesi. We spent all season leading up to it, right? With foreboding music? And tasteful close-ups of the icicles? And Saffron’s confessional, where she talked about “getting her stab on”? It’s why we cast her. But for all of our efforts, look what happened—she and Khaleesi hugged and cried and shared a snow cone. With Jared. Jared was the one who was supposed to be so lonely and ignored that he left the safety of the igloo to seek the loving embrace of a grizzly bear!

   But the bears never came. And no one got stabbed.

   From that point forward, we decided to take a more hands-off approach. Now, rather than have the whittled-down pool of applicants come in for a final round of casting, we simply go with our gut reactions and finalize the cast based on their original, uncut interviews. In fact, we whisk them directly out of the auditions as soon as their parents or guardians sign the waiver! (Reminder to all employees: any questions from the press that contain the word “kidnapping” should be forwarded straight to the PR department.) And so we are proud to announce that we have already chosen the final ten cast members—only one week after auditions!

   We’ve still applied the standard network reality casting percentages: fifty percent male, fifty percent female; sixty percent white, thirty percent ethnic, ten percent undetermined; balanced dispersal of ages from fourteen to eighteen; plus the four Golden Tokens: gay, foreigner, disabled, and orphan. And as per usual, we’ll be throwing all sorts of plot bombs and crazy situations at the poor bastards—with the new added twist of a live segment at the end of each episode.

   Of course, we’ll still leave some things up to chance. Fifteen percent of the editing will be done on the fly, based solely on the relationships and developments that we’ll be monitoring closely over the course of each week. Who knows how it’ll unfold? Who knows where it’ll lead? Who knows what those hyperactive, questionably sane caricatures will throw at us?

   I do: Drama.

 A brief word about Chazz Young, CEO of DV8, walking innuendo, and overall trash barge of a human being.

       The word that pops up most often when people attempt to describe Chazz is “exceedingly.” He is exceedingly tanned. His teeth are exceedingly white. He is exceedingly self-centered, as evidenced by his initiative to move the human resources department to the basement of DV8 headquarters so his twin puggles could have their own corner office. He is exceedingly arrogant, treating everyone involved in his television productions—cast members, crew, staff, and, yes, interns—as insignificant specks who exist solely to make his star shine more brightly. And he is exceedingly cocky, given the fact that he unilaterally declared himself to be the best candidate for on-air talent. Plenty of talented hosts have presented themselves to DV8 over the years, and although a lucky few manage to grab a sliver of airtime now and then, it’s Chazz’s vinyl face that you’re most likely to see whenever you tune in. Especially when it comes to something as high-profile as Waste of Space.

       Which calls to mind another of Chazz’s qualities: he is exceedingly lazy. He thought that Waste of Space was going to be a home run no matter what, and that all he had to do was plug in the numbers to a tried-and-true formula that hadn’t failed him yet. But when someone as oblivious as Chazz Young stops seeing people as human beings, he might also stop noticing other details. Smaller details.

       Important details.

Item: Transcript of audio recording

Source: Chazz’s cell phone

Date: January 9, 2017

 Chazz: You nerds there? Ready to get this conference call party started?

   NASAW: We’re here.

   Chazz: Great. So let’s—[doorbell rings in background] oh, hang on a sec, everyone. Rock climbing wall delivery.

   NASAW: You have your own rock climbing wall?

   Chazz: Two rock climbing walls. LA’s an earthquake town, it’s important to always have a backup—listen, just talk amongst yourselves for a few minutes. I'll be right back.

       [beat]

NASAW #1: I can’t believe we agreed to this. [sound of papers sifting] These people are certifiable.

   NASAW #2: And irresponsible.

   NASAW #3: Don’t forget soulless.

   NASAW #4: [sighing] Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now. We signed the papers. We’re in this whether we like it or not.

   NASAW #2: But look at these emails! They are hurling money at this thing. We’ve been trying to get this sort of funding from the government for years and received nothing—because apparently the money’s all wrapped up in television! I called to double-check the budget because I figured it couldn’t possibly be correct, but it is. The girl on the phone offered to throw in an extra million just because I asked how her day was going!

   NASAW #4: How do they have so much money? They’re a television network!

   NASAW #2: Two words: Chazz Young. I did some research on this guy. Got rich off his daddy’s trust fund, then used it to buy a struggling sports channel. He did an extensive overhaul, switched all its programming to trashy reality television, bumped up its online presence, and installed his own in-house production company to develop his own projects.

   NASAW #4: What does that mean?

   NASAW #2: It means that whenever a ridiculous idea pops into Chazz Young’s mind, he has the unlimited budget and power to make it into a show, air it on television, and spread it all over the internet, just like that.

   NASAW #3: Let me see those figures. [sound of coffee being spit across the table] Jesus Christ! We could buy a brand-new shuttle for that kind of money! Plus fuel!

   NASAW #4: I say we round up the lot of these dolts and send them into space.

   NASAW #2: And I quote: “We will spare no expense on the visuals. None whatsoever.” They’re teaming up with a company called ImmerseFX—it makes video games or virtual reality or theme park rides, I don’t know what the heck it is—to handle the special effects. Which we’re supposed to keep quiet about, by the way, since they’re trying to pass this thing off as real.

   NASAW #4: Psfff. Good luck.

   NASAW #2: They’ve reserved the largest soundstage in the New Mexico desert, and they’re handing it over to us, keys and all. “Build a space plane inside!” they said. “Bounce it up and down! Make as much noise as you want!” The effects people will be out here for a few days to build the thing based on our designs—then after that, it’s up to us. All for the purpose of torturing these poor kids with ridiculous pre-written plot points—

   NASAW #3: Pre-written? I thought this was a reality show.

   NASAW #2: Ha! Reality, my ass. The only thing that’s real is the team of video editors they’ve got on call, ready to craft it into whatever they need it to be while we get to sit around with our thumbs up our posteriors, shaking a tin can with of a bunch of spoiled little fame whores sealed inside.

   NASAW #4: But there’s a host onboard with them, right? Some form of adult supervision?

   NASAW #2: Nope! [slightly hysterical laughter] The network people aren’t even going to be on set! They said they’d, quote, “rather be shot into the sun than spend three months in that shithole of a desert,” so they’ll be monitoring everything via live feeds, safe and cool in their air-conditioned offices in Los Angeles, and sending us their instructions. Instructions that, I might add, would be hilarious if they weren’t so blisteringly idiotic.

   NASAW #4: [papers sifting] “Week number one: Asteroid Attack. Will require impacts against the walls of the space plane. Week number two: Spinning Out of Control. Will require a rotating video animation to be displayed in the space plane’s window.”

   NASAW #2: And there’ll be more where that came from! The cameras onboard the ship will record six hours at a time, upload the video files to the main server we’ll have on-site, then automatically wipe the memory cards and begin recording again. It’s a process that can sustain itself indefinitely without any manual upkeep, which frees up even more time for them to dream up even more foolishness. And then there’s the list—the twenty-three-point list!—of consultants who are only a phone call away should we wish to contact them. Industrial Light and Magic, Pixar, a charter helicopter company, the Jim Henson workshop—

   NASAW #3: Are you kidding me? Puppets? Do they want aliens?

   NASAW #2: They might! They might want aliens!

   NASAW #1: Enough. [sound of a coffee mug pounding the table] There is a clear path through all this.

   NASAW #2: Yeah, right through to the unemployment office. Better get in line.

   NASAW #1: You’re looking at this from the wrong angle. What we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is an opportunity. A golden opportunity.

   [pause]

   NASAW #2: What are you proposing?

   [sound of coffee being poured]

   NASAW #1: We make their spaceship.

   [sip]

   NASAW #1: We make their show.

   [sip]

       NASAW #1: And then we make history.

                                                      ***

WASTE OF SPACE is available on 7/11, but if you liked this teaser, pre-order it today by clicking the links below!

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[gigsoupmusic]

SORAIA's New Album 'DIG YOUR ROOTS' Out Today

Personal growth, rebirth, even revolution – such transformative concepts are the heart of what Soraia is all about. These heady themes inform the songs on Dig Your Roots, the band’s latest album, out March 13 on Wicked Cool Records. “I look at Dig Your Roots as a continuation of what was begun on Dead Reckoning,” says singer and frontwoman ZouZou Mansour of the new album’s relationship to their 2017 Wicked Cool LP. That record’s release prompted Rolling Stone/Mojo scribe David Fricke to write Soraia’s “searing guitars, burning soul and true CBGB grit…are the rock you need, in your face now.” “Dig Your Roots is coming to terms with the light and dark inside myself and in the world,” ZouZou shares. “I come from a diverse multicultural and multireligious background – my father was Muslim and Egyptian, and my mother was Belgian and Catholic. I was ‘different,’ and I hid some of my background from people, thinking I wouldn't be accepted. Digging my roots is being proud of who I am, letting it come before me even at times, being proud of where I come from, and asking the listener to do the same. “Dig Your Roots also refers to loving what grounds you: the people, the lifestyles, the places you live, where you grew up. It’s being willing to dig up your roots and re-plant if where you are no longer keeps you free – metaphorically, of course. Inherently, I want this to be the message of the record: if you're down, get up.” As a spiritual descendent of iconic women in rock such as Patti Smith and Joan Jett, ZouZou’s Philadelphia-based band also embodies elements of kindred spirits of the ’90s and beyond - like PJ Harvey and The Kills, with more than a sprinkling of ’60s Garage Rock and Soul. Their primal sonic attack spreads a message of perseverance through trials of love, loss and letting go. Bassist Travis Smith continues to be a crucial root of the Soraia tree, co-writing five of the album’s new songs with ZouZou, including “Superman Is Gone” and “Wild Woman.” “Travis delved into places on this album that we didn't go to on the last record,” she reveals. “That's scary. But he did it, which ultimately made me do it, too. It's like, ‘Hold my hand, we're going into this dark cave, and who knows what's going to happen…” Roots also finds drummer Brianna Sig with her first Soraia co-write, the enchanting “Don’t Have You.” “Her melody for the choruses reminded me of how The Sirens would lure sailors in Greek mythology,” ZouZou relates. “It was haunting and beautiful – and if Soraia isn't both of those things, then I don't know what we're doing here.” The band faced an unexpected challenge when guitarist Mike Reisman, who co-wrote four Dig tracks, including 2019 single “Evergreen,” left the group. “Mike can’t tour for longer periods of time anymore,” says ZouZou. “It hurt. He still works with us and we still connect. But you grow closer with who remains, and grow yourself.” Going forward, Nick Seditious is handling guitar duties. Further nourishing their roots is the continued support of Wicked Cool’s Stevie Van Zandt. The label head has been an advocate ever since naming their breakout track “Love Like Voodoo” the Coolest Song in the World on his syndicated radio show and SiriusXM channel Little Steven’s Underground Garage in 2013. In January 2020, Dig Your Roots' opening cut “Dangerous” becomes the tenth Coolest Song they’ve earned. Van Zandt has even become a creative collaborator, penning “Why” for Dead Reckoning and co-writing two Roots tunes: 2019 Coolest Song “Still I Rise” and forthcoming single “Darkness (Is My Only Candle).” “I trust him more than anyone in knowing what I'm trying to say and who I am,” says ZouZou. Complementing them in the studio once again is producer/engineer Geoff Sanoff, whose credits include notable work with Bruce Springsteen, Fountains Of Wayne and Dashboard Confessional. “He’s a member of the band when we’re in there,” ZouZou acknowledges. Soraia has come a long way since their punked-up cover of The Kinks’ “(I’m Not) Like Everybody Else” hit #1 on Rock radio in South America in 2015. Their independently released debut album In The Valley Of Love And Guns from 2013 features five songs co-written with Jon Bon Jovi. “I'm all about playing a fun song and throwing myself around, that's Rock ’n’ Roll at its heart,” ZouZou remarks. “But I'm also about telling the stories of resurrection and life and hope and darkness.” And now, the songs of 'Dig Your Roots' in ZouZou’s own words… 1. Dangerous I was listening to a ton of Jet and The Vines at one point, and just loved the recklessness – especially in the screams on those songs – and the pure Rock eruption of it all. It's less than three minutes and explodes the entire time. “Dangerous” was born from that specific decision to write a song with those kinds of explosive dynamics and lyrics – and as always – easy and passionate conversations about the things we love. 2. Wild Woman I had been listening to this female preacher talking about being “born inside the wild” and not knowing where you were – but that strong women thrived in the wild. I fell in love with that idea of birthing yourself – which is one way to put it – over and over when you enter into situations you're uncomfortable in, or have never been in. An added bonus is the notion of being a “wild woman” in that way was a different take on the idea I think social consciousness has on being a “wild woman.” Empowering instead of denigrating. Travis had written this swampy, mysterious riff, so we took that and made it the forefront of the song, and took the subject matter – pieced them together – and VOILA! WILD WOMAAAAAAN!!! 3. Evergreen Mike played this riff that became the verses and said he heard this drumbeat like “Howlin’ For You” by The Black Keys for it. I had been watching the movie Black Snake Moan and heard this line that the main female character “had the devil in her.” That conjured up this old South feeling for me, so I wanted to put that in and give it that vibe. The story is told with a sometimes playful and teasing attitude, and sometimes aggressive and frustrated tone. It really felt freeing and gave the speaker the power back she didn't feel she had in the first place. 4. Foxfire Travis had this intriguing idea of “foxfire” for a title line. I didn't know what it meant, so he told me all about it. It’s this phosphorescent light emitted by certain fungi on decaying timber. It’s beautiful when it glows, but it isn’t real, it’s a momentary thing. And when people would see it in the woods, many got lost being guided by it. We thought it would be interesting to write a song about depression from the standpoint of “foxfire” – or these glimmering thoughts that lead you astray and only give the illusion that everything's alright. The struggle to believe in any one thought, to characterize the confusion of that type of struggle from the speaker's point of view. 5. Darkness (Is My Only Candle) Again, a song written almost together in a room. There's a line of a Rumi poem, “Darkness is your candle.” At the time, there had been the Charlottesville riots, and lots of violence that seemed horrifically reminiscent of the racial injustices of the ’60s. I remember thinking “Where are we?” and being really upset about all the hatred and racial slurs. This song came as a result of anger, pain, sadness, worry, and ultimately the idea we can't be separate anymore or stay quiet. It took a few sessions to write because Travis and I were both so impassioned about making sure we told the truth and stayed with the times as we saw them. 6. Nothing Compares 2 U I had always felt so strongly about the Sinéad O’Connor version of this song. But despite being a big Prince fan, I had never heard his version. When I did, and heard the first line lyric change – “It’s been seven hours and thirteen days” – I knew immediately this was the one. Those numbers alone and the darker, more soulful approach he took to the lyric and melody spoke to me in a different way than the more popular version by Sinéad. In the studio, Geoff Sanoff really wanted to bring this Mott The Hoople vibe to it like “All The Young Dudes” – which added a lot more to our style of approaching it. 7. Superman Is Gone Another Travis and I song, this one was specifically about the idea of being high and feeling like “Superman” when you did that first line of anything. I'm a recovering person, so it was important to me that I also tell the story of the anger I had at my father over being absent when I was going through that. I have already forgiven him and me about that, but I wanted to tell the story honestly. And there's a part of me that still questions where were a lot of different people in my life when I was busy getting high. That idea that you wonder where people were and what they were doing when you were hardcore in this addiction – with no feeling attached to it – just a human curiosity. 8. Way That You Want It It's really just about this guy who is frustrated by a girl he digs but can't have. It's based lyrically off the same idea as “I Hate Myself For Loving You” by Joan Jett & The Blackhearts, but from the viewpoint of another character – where I'm singing as the storyteller/observer instead of the person it's all happening to. 9. Still I Rise Based on a Maya Angelou poem. I live my life in no particular time, almost in a time vacuum. And no matter what, you get up. Mike and I had originally written the song, and called it “I Am (Rise).” But Steven Van Zandt got a hold of it and loved the story of the song, so we rewrote the lyrics, and he rewrote the music to it, to really tell the story of people getting up after falling. I had taken a few lines from actual conversations or experiences I had. Then, Steven and I tried to pay homage as much as possible to the original poem. We rewrote it together in an afternoon – one of the best experiences I've had with him. 10. Don’t Have You This was officially the last song written for the album. Brianna sent me two separate song ideas that ended up becoming “Don't Have You.” This was also the last song recorded for the album, and Geoff knew right away the approach to the piano. It became something really beautiful, and I wanted to keep it simple and stripped in the front end, so the lyric could pull in the listener. This was about my own heartbreak, and that little feeling of hope and possibility still inherent in the relationship is really powerful in the middle of the song. It was Geoff's idea to speak that part instead of sing it, and I was thrilled with how it came out. 11. Euphoria “Euphoria” was written by myself and Travis. I loved the bluesy and spacious riff he came up with. I felt it left a space for some sort of testimony – so I told the story of all these experiences smashed together. Though each line seems to stand alone in some parts, they weave a truthful story of this woman coming back from the dead. I love the lyric in this one. Brianna had this great idea to end it in a church-y way, since it's mainly about wanting this high experience in life. And what a great way to end the record! Read the full article