#it's a show that romanticizes old money New England

[asocial-skye]

people who hate gilmore girls characters because they're classists are so fucking funny to me because that entire show has classism baked into it. it's like you all just forgot how the maids are treated in that show.

#gilmore girls #lorelai gilmore #rory gilmore #logan huntzberger #paris geller #emily gilmore #richard gilmore #yale #yeah logan is a classist #but so is literally everyone else in that show #38 year old lorelai gets an innocent lady fired because she screwed with emily's seating plan #rory is blind as hell to her class and privilege #all the yale characters are freaking WASPs with the exception of paris and i think logan #logan's mom is named shira (jewish name i'm pretty sure) so there's some jewishness in the family tree #it's a show that romanticizes old money New England #of course there's tons of classism #even paris is straight up looks down on people without a college degree

[glenrocklibraryteens]

The Secret History by Donna Tartt

Book Review: The Secret History

The Secret History by Donna Tartt Genres: fiction, psychological fiction Page number: 576 pages Rating: 5 Stars

The story follows Richard Papen, a young man from California as he admires and eventually meets an elitist group of college students attending Hampden College in Vermont, his new school. It’s with these students who, through the encouragement of their eccentric classics professor, escape the bounds of morality and end up murdering one of their own. (This isn’t a spoiler, as the book even opens by talking vaguely about the murder of Bunny [Edmund Corcoran]) All in all, the story is less about who killed who, but rather about how the murder came to be.

Considering this isn’t your typical murder mystery, most wouldn’t care to read on. Not to mention, The Secret History is particularly a very controversially reviewed novel. Some praise its intellect and skilled writing, while others bash it for its extreme romanticism or absurdity. Personally, I completely disagree with the latter. It is its drastic and grotesque events, as well as the details of the inner workings of the characters Richard admires so much (Henry, Charles, Camilla, Francis, and Bunny), that give the novel its signature touch. Through their “rose” colored glasses, we are shown the classical world our protagonists live in in all its splendor and academia. However, as the reader, we are also taken on a twisted trip of what happens when one becomes much too obsessed and intertwined with their study material and muse. All in all, the thing I love most about this book is that Donna Tartt shows us the world of the elite of New England with the addition of unique, pretentious, and most likely disturbed characters, who inevitably plunge themselves deeper and deeper into their downfall. And most importantly, we’re entertained every step of the way as we watch the chaos ensue.

The Secret History playlist:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4xRacqrklArqDIsNDOxUMb?si=xfMCilYSRNCwdc5MKIXXwQ&pi=u-zdig7-3PRpCc

Wicked Game by Chris Isaak

The title and mood of the song perfectly embodies The Secret History and its characters.  

Who is she? By I Monster

I feel like this song not only reminds me of the story because of how it sounds but its lyrics are symbolic of how Richard admired and wondered about the others, specifically Camilla.

Gnoissene: No. 1 by Erik Satie

With this song, I can imagine a group of classical students studying in a dusty library. Or a song that they’d listen to in their free time.

Reflections by Toshifumi Hinata

This song as some know is widely considered the classic dark academia song, so I consider it to be perfect for this novel.

Young and Beautiful by Lana Del Rey

I think the obsession with the aesthetic, as well as the romanticism of it and the academia that the protagonists have is embodied in this song.  

Paris, Texas by Lana Del Rey

The song describes someone packing up their things and moving somewhere completely different because they wanted to be in the moment without the genuine approval of the people around them, which is exactly what Richard did. Not only that but the entire song is very serene and whimsical sounding which reminds me of the beginning of the book.

La Solitude by Joshua Kyan Aalampour

This dark-sounding classical-like song embodies the book very well, by the feeling alone.

Old Money by Lana Del Rey

With the title alone, the group of “friends” Richard has, are accurately represented. Especially Bunny is the picture of old money and the lavish life that comes with it.

The World We Knew (Over and Over) by Frank Sinatra

The lyrics, passion, and mood of the song all depict the middle to end of the story, and I imagine Richard singing to it.

#book review #fiction

[koshercosplay]

FUCK okay I'm making a jewish headcanons post for our flag means death because it actually WORKS PERFECTLY

at this point jews had. JUST been allowed back into england like what 50 years prior to the start of the show? stede's family had converted generations back and had mostly lost touch with judaism but each generation knew they were jewish, but hid it for fear of social repercussions. stede spends his life hiding his jewish background, pretending to be christian like the rest of his family before him.

he marries a nice christian girl. he has kids. he is miserable. he doesn't realize that he's gay yet, but he certainly doesn't love her. he wants to reconnect with his jewish heritage, but that would make Everyone Talk, and god knows how much more awful that would make his life. the pressure of hiding so many aspects of himself takes a toll and he starts romanticizing a life of freedom on the seas where he can be himself.

he commissions a ship to be built and pays off a crew and sets sail on his new ship, abandoning his old way of life. and what is one of the most important things he brings with him?

BOOKS.

the man wants to reconnect with his heritage and be more himself and so he brings shelves and shelves and shelves worth of books. if that isn't top tier nonsensical Jew™ behavior I don't know what is.

Now we get to ED.

Edward Teach, brought up poor, pining after the finer things in life, and what does his mother tell him?

that finery is meant for other people. that they will never be able to achieve that, and that he should be happy with what they have.

I wonder WHY his mother was so convinced that the family would never rise in social status???

OH YEAH. CUZ THEY WERE JEWS.

Second class status, persecuted beyond belief, forced to live practically undercover and never allowed into the upper echelons of society. no wonder Ed flees that for a life on the seas. at least there, everyone's an outcast.

and then he meets Stede.

Stede, who is now openly exploring his heritage on the high seas while failing terrifically at pirating. Stede, who brought books upon books with him, probably including some gemara, who openly institutes a day of rest on board his ship by giving his crew a day off (which at first they don't know what to do with, but soon come to appreciate. much like crafting.) Stede, who clearly came from money, who has nice things, who wears nice clothes, who is an aristocrat. and Jewish.

and Ed is FASCINATED.

anyway everyone on this show is a jew and nobody can tell me otherwise everyone go watch this show if you haven't already it's amazing

#izzy hands is a self hating jew #jim is a sephardic descendant of conversos #and their family was murdered by an antisemitic gang #and lucius? thats a gay jewish stereotype if i ever saw one #literally theyre all jews everyone shut up #god i love this show so much #ahhhhhhhhh #its so so SO good #our flag means death #our flag means gay #stede bonnet #edward teach #blackbeard #blackbonnet #jewish headcanons #text post #ofmd

[hello-robin-goodfellow]

SHAKESPEARE AND THE PRETTY SPEECHES OF A KING

@ardenrosegarden @amalthea9 @lioness--hart @princesssarisa @hmmm-what-am-i-doing @suits-of-woe @malvoliowithin @noshitshakespeare

I was once watching Brows Held High review of Laurence Olivier’s Henry V (1944), where the reviewer, Kyle Kalgreen, analized how it faired in the context of British World War II Propaganda Machine,  as a Shakespeare film adaptation and in comparison to the Kenneth Branagh 1989 Film Adaptation. 

There is a moment he pauses to analyze the most popular speech of the play, wich is the Saint Crispin’s Day Speech:

What’s he that wishes so?

My cousin Westmoreland? 

No, my fair cousin.

If we are marked to die, we are enough

To do our country loss; and if to live,

The fewer men, the greater share of honor.

God’s will, I pray thee wish not one man more.

By Jove, I am not covetous for gold

Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;

It yearns me not if men my garments wear;

Such outward things dwell not in my desires.

But if it be a sin to covet honor,

I am the most offending soul alive.

No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.

God’s peace, I would not lose so great an honor

As one man more, methinks, would share from me,

For the best hope I have. 

Oh, do not wish one more!

Rather proclaim it, 

Westmoreland, through my host,

That he which hath no stomach to this fight,

Let him depart. 

His passport shall be made,

And crowns for convoy put into his purse.

We would not die in that man’s company

That fears his fellowship to die with us.

This day is called the feast of Crispian.

He that outlives this day and comes safe home,

Will stand o' tiptoe when the day is named

And rouse him at the name of Crispian.

He that shall see this day, and live old age,

Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors

And say, “Tomorrow is Saint Crispian.”

Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,

And say, “These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.” 

Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot

But he’ll remember with advantages

What feats he did that day. 

Then shall our names,

Familiar in his mouth as household words, 

Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,Warwick and Talbot, 

Salisbury and Gloucester,

Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.

This story shall the good man teach his son,

And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,

From this day to the ending of the world,

But we in it shall be rememberèd—

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;

For he today that sheds his blood with me

Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,

This day shall gentle his condition;

And gentlemen in England now abed

Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,

And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks

That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.

(William Shakespeare. Henry V: Act IV, Scene III)

Beautifull. Powerfull. Lie.

Because, as Kyle Kalgreen apoints, while the Laurence Olivier had to cut it to make Henry V more simpathetic, the original Shakespeare text and the Kenneth Branagh Film Adaptation have this scene following the Saint Crispin’s day speech, where the young king reads a list of the english man who died in battle: 

Edward the duke of York, the earl of Suffolk,

Sir Richard Ketly, Davy Gam, esquire;

None else of name, and of all other men

But five and twenty. O God, thy arm was here,

And not to us but to thy arm alone

Ascribe we all! When, without stratagem,

But in plain shock and even play of battle,

Was ever known so great and little loss

On one part and on th' other? 

Take it, God,For it is none but thine. 

(William Shakespeare, Henry V: Act IV, Scene VIII)

The death nobleman are named, while the death common soldier is just ‘None else of name’. The death nobleman is ‘so great loss’. The death common soldier is ‘so little loss’. Contrary to what King Henry V promissed, not everybody who died fighting on his name in France will be considered his brother, remembered and mourned by him.

And them later, we watch the consequences of the reign of his son in the Henry VI trilogy of plays, and in Henry VI Part III, our new protagonist gives this beautifull speech about the blessing of a commoner’s life while sitting over a molehill:

This battle fares like to the morning’s war, 

When dying clouds contend with growing light, 

What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails, 

Can neither call it perfect day nor night. 

Now sways it this way, like a mighty sea 

Forced by the tide to combat with the wind; 

Now sways it that way, like the selfsame sea 

Forced to retire by fury of the wind: 

Sometime the flood prevails, and then the wind; 

Now one the better, then another best; 

Both tugging to be victors, breast to breast, 

Yet neither conqueror nor conquered: 

So is the equal of this fell war. 

Here on this molehill will I sit me down. 

To whom God will, there be the victory! 

For Margaret my queen, and Clifford too, 

Have chid me from the battle; swearing both 

They prosper best of all when I am thence. 

Would I were dead! if God’s good will were so; 

For what is in this world but grief and woe? 

O God! methinks it were a happy life, 

To be no better than a homely swain; 

To sit upon a hill, as I do now, 

To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, 

Thereby to see the minutes how they run, 

How many make the hour full complete; 

How many hours bring about the day; 

How many days will finish up the year; 

How many years a mortal man may live. 

When this is known, then to divide the times: 

So many hours must I tend my flock; 

So many hours must I take my rest; 

So many hours must I contemplate; 

So many hours must I sport myself; 

So many days my ewes have been with young; 

So many weeks ere the poor fools will ean: 

So many years ere I shall shear the fleece: 

So minutes, hours, days, months, and years, 

Pass’d over to the end they were created, 

Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. 

Ah, what a life were this! how sweet! how lovely! 

Gives not the hawthorn-bush a sweeter shade 

To shepherds looking on their silly sheep, 

Than doth a rich embroider’d canopy 

To kings that fear their subjects’ treachery? 

O, yes, it doth; a thousand-fold it doth. 

And to conclude, the shepherd’s homely curds, 

His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle. 

His wonted sleep under a fresh tree’s shade, 

All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, 

Is far beyond a prince’s delicates, 

His viands sparkling in a golden cup, 

His body couched in a curious bed, 

When care, mistrust, and treason waits on him.

(William Shakespeare. Henry VI Part III: Act II, Scene V)

Also a beautifull and powerfull speech, if a bit revealing of a romanticized view of the poverty that Henry VI never lived. And also a lie, or, at least, a half truth for Henry VI himself.

By contrast to the Molehill Speech, here is the dialogue exchange between him and two keepers, in the next act:

Second Keeper

Say, what art thou that talk'st of kings and queens?

Henry VI

More than I seem, and less than I was born to: A man at least, for less I should not be; And men may talk of kings, and why not I?

Second Keeper

Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king.

Henry VI

Why, so I am, in mind; and that's enough.

Second Keeper   

But, if thou be a king, where is thy crown?

Henry VI

My crown is in my heart, not on my head; Not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, Nor to be seen: my crown is called content: A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.

Second Keeper

Well, if you be a king crown'd with content, Your crown content and you must be contented To go along with us; for as we think, You are the king King Edward hath deposed; And we his subjects sworn in all allegiance Will apprehend you as his enemy. 

Henry VI

But did you never swear, and break an oath?

Second Keeper

No, never such an oath; nor will not now.

Henry VI

Where did you dwell when I was King of England?

Second Keeper

Here in this country, where we now remain.

Henry VI

I was anointed king at nine months old; My father and my grandfather were kings, And you were sworn true subjects unto me: And tell me, then, have you not broke your oaths?

First Keeper. 

No; For we were subjects but while you were king.

Henry VI

Why, am I dead? do I not breathe a man Ah, simple men, you know not what you swear! Look, as I blow this feather from my face, And as the air blows it to me again, Obeying with my wind when I do blow, And yielding to another when it blows, Commanded always by the greater gust; Such is the lightness of you common men.

(William Shakespeare. Henry VI Part III: Act III, Scene I)

We can perceive here a condescending tone that King Henry VI has when he talks with two members of the people. He is surprised to see that they don’t believe in a divine right that gives him a “natural kingly aura”. They don’t see him as a superior, wise and benevolent saviour, but only as a man who once weared a crown, but now, without the crown, they don’t have any obligation to obey him. 

And Henry VI can’t accept that.

Later, he is rescued by Clifford, Warwick and Clarence from imprisoment under King Edward IV’s rule. And when those three man offer him back the crown and title of king, he don’t refuse it to live the simple commoner life he described as more beautifull in the Molehill Speech. He accepts it. Even if he intends to let the actual work of ruling to Warwick, Clarence and Queen Margaret, he still wants the sense of superiority, the privileges and the confortable life offered by the title of king that he grew accustomed to since he was nine months old.

By justaposing those speeches and scenes, Shakespeare pulls us of the rug in our view of those two characters, who want the people to believe they are good, heroic and chivalrous kings, anointed by God himself, when in reality what anoints them is their money and their armies.

Intentionally or not, with those plays, Shakespeare was at the same being a precursor and subvertor of the Relatable Royal Trope, showing that those people with the title of kings are like us... but not really.

They feel sadness, fear, anger, love, envy and jealousie like us, but they are more rich, powerfull and privileged then us.And they don’t really  want to renounce that power, because it will take away their sense of being superior to us.

To paraphrase Kyle Kalgreen: 

Beware pretty speeches

(Kyle Kalgreen. Brows Held High: This Day is Called the Feast of Crispian, a review of Laurence Olivier’s Henry V. October 26th, 2018)

Specially if they come from a person that wears the crown of a king.

#history plays #theater #literature #tragedies #shakespeare #william shakespeare #will shakespeare #henry v #henry vi #the wars of the roses #bardolatry #brows held high #kyle kalgreen #cinema #laurence olivier

[740parkhq]

*  lawless  paparazzi  flashed  photos  of  a  1961 ferrari 250 gt california spider  pulling  into  the  sparkling  gates  of  quincy  park  ,  indicating  that  camilla  of  the  prosperous  kerby  lineage  has  returned  home  .  college  ended  for  the  transgender nb  in  2017  ,  but  they’re  already  flourishing  in  their  field  , proclaiming  that  their  bachelor's  degree  in  fashion design  is  being  put  to  prolific  use  .  the  general  public  may  be  unworldly  enough  to  believe  that  their  accomplishments  were  earned  honestly  ,  but  the  people  of  new  york  city  are  painstakingly  aware  that  it’s  impossible  to  snag  a  top  paying  position  as  a  fashion designer  right  out  of  university  .  the  family’s  been  tormented  with  a  well  -  known  rumor  that  they  fabricate  news  stories  in  service  of  their  own  agenda  for  years  ,  so  it  was  news  to  no  one  when  the  kerbys  made  local  headlines  claiming  the  only  reason  their  self - absorbed  progeny’s  career  is  what  it  is  because  they  have  found  a  way  to  silence  all  the  claims  of  camilla  stealing  other  artists’  work  .  marie antoinette  has  done  a  splendid  job  of  keeping  the  bloodline’s  furtive  truths  confidential  ,  but  their  reputation  of  being  fun  &  gaining  a  postgrad  inheritance  of  $450m  hasn’t  been  enough  to  cease  the  counter  blast  from  new  york’s  angry  civilians  .  if  they’re  not  heedful  ,  not  even  quincy  park’s  sturdy  golden  gates  will  be  capable  of  keeping  out  the  city’s  vengeance  .  (  indya  moore  ,  25  ,  the opulent  .  )

henry here with my second muse — camilla !! as alway yall can reach me here or over @ discord @ a hundred years rick and morty#9146 !!

STATS —

content warning for: /

name: camilla vivien kerby

nickname: camilla

titles: marie antoinette

age & dob: 15th march 1994 ( twenty - five )

zodiac: pisces sun / taurus moon / leo rising

gender id: transgender nonbinary

pronouns: they/them

sexual & romantic orientation: bisexual biromantic

mbti: esfp-t

enneagram: 2w3 7w8 8w9 ( the free spirit )

temperament: sanguine-melancholic

more  stats  (  HERE .  )

BLURB —

extravagant rococo ideals and values flying in stuffy new english brownstones. new money midwestern bourgeoisie encroaching on a kingdom filled with waspy stalwarts of the old vanguard. ennui in the flavour of unending listlessness in a city that never sleeps and never changes. the banality of morality, of existence, of everything and anything. romanticism to fill the gap, romanticism to survive, romanticism to make it all mean something—and never mind the tragedy at the end of the chapter. opulence at the cost of authenticity, hedonism in search of an identity. always forgetting people, never forgetting stories.

HISTORY —

ever since the mid-19th century, the pulitzer family consolidated news in the midwestern region of the united states. they were wielders of the truth and proud journalists, dedicating a great deal of their money to the polish of their craft. unfortunately, in a capitalist system, money wins out and they were soon left beggared by their commitment to their integrity. it wasn’t until the 1950s that they experienced a resurgence through the help of a wily businessman who married into the family and used the prestige of the name to build a profitable news empire, building onto the foundations that was set and setting forth these new innovations.

these new innovations were less than popular, but it was very profitable: camilla’s grandfather pandered to populism and demagoguery, splashing front pages with sensational headlines and less-than-truthful speculation about certain personages. they worked closely with government agencies to shape the narrative in the midwest, engineering much of the red scare during the cold war. soon, the pulitzers themselves began to espouse much of the politics that was being peddled by their papers.

with their influence cemented, the pulitzer family at the ending of the 20th century wanted to expand their empire and decided to break into new england, a veritable fortress populated by well-established newspapers such as the nytimes, wapo, and wsj. although their fortune was considerable, it wasn’t enough to combat the foundation that the establishment papers have built—so they began to look for allies. they found it in multi-billionaire marcos edwin kerby.

and so they peddled off a daughter and a position at their company in exchange for substantial funding. the union, though not an overly joyous one, was one that was built on mutual respect for one another. lucy genevieve and marcos edwin were frank with one another: two children and then they’d be free to do whoever they want, an open marriage that resolved much of their issues and led to a happier-than-most upbringing for the two children they had, even if it was a bit unorthodox at the time.

camilla was born into this setting. the younger of the two, there was never really any expectation on them to pick up a career in news—which they didn’t resent as they found the politics and dynamics of it despicable, thinking that the company was a toxic presence in the political landscape. however, they kept their opinion to themself and kept their mouth shut, not wanting to cross their parents for fear of stoking their anger and becoming disinherited.

their passion, instead, was drawn to the arts. they were very artistic and would often scribble cartoons and the like—but their true love was fashion design. they fell in love with the designs of christian lacroix and dolce & gabbana, the extravagant clothes of the two fashion houses falling in line with their own personal aesthetics. it wasn’t long before they themself tried their hand at fashion design, and they found they had a knack for it.

with their father’s social manoeuvring, they launched their first show at the tender age of twenty-one while still in college. their collection was hailed as one of the best of the season and they were branded as a rising star in the world of fashion.

however, when next season came, they found that the pressure had got to them: they were blocked as what to design and, as the deadline day came nearer and nearer, the panic made them shut down even more. this led them to stealing a fellow student’s designs and showing them off as their own. of course, since they copied it wholesale, the plagiarism was blatant, but due to their family’s influence, the story was suppressed and camilla was now confirmed to be a genuine landmark moment in the world of fashion.

though they still make some of their designs, they find it easier to copy and modify to their heart’s content. at first, they excused themself saying it was only nerves; but as time passed, they had to admit that it was the lifestyle of constant partying that distracted them, taking up precious time that they could have put into working instead. camilla would often be seen at a club, luxuriating with fellow sybarites, and never minding the time. when time to sew up designs came, they’d resort to stealing and modifying others’ work, not wanting to cut down the time for their hedonism.

PERSONALITY —

electric dreams for a twenty-first century virtual teen, watching period dramas as a personality trait, watching marie antoinette (2006) and only noticing the pretty dresses, thinking you’re better than your family for being liberal and thinking you’re better than other liberals you’re not, like, an extremist or anything, actually being politically apathetic bc you couldn’t be fucked to follow politics, not knowing how much a banana costs, not knowing if you’re a millenial or a gen z and not even knowing the difference between the two, wouldn’t eat a tide pod but has that characteristic gen z despair at the experience of life itself, why bother doing anything when the world’s going to end anyways? might as well eat cake!

PARALLELS —

marion kerby (topper), marie antoinette (marie antoinette 2006), francis abernathy (the secret history), lord henry wotton (the picture of dorian grey), roman roy (succession), oscar wilde (real life: 19th century)

WANTED CONNECTIONS —

content warnings for: drug mentions

best friends , friends , someone they stole art from , party friends , druggie friends , drug dealer , drug buyers , trip sitter , art heaux friends , pretentious friends , fellow members of an art collective , book club friends , indie music friends , concert - going buddies , travel buddies , drinking buddies , hole - in - the - walls exploration buddies , someone they go to museums with , lovers ( current & former ) , online friends , associates of their family +++ their older bro i have yet to sent the wc of !

#york.intro #➳ 𝖑𝖊𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒 𝖊𝖆𝖙 𝖈𝖆𝖐𝖊 ♛ character study #drugs mention

[luwucas04]

𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞

Personally, every day I grow more and more disappointed with the masses of humanity and people with a large portion of power within society. More than ever it’s become so prominent just how people putting financial gain ahead of the well-being of others during the current global crisis we are currently living through is so utterly, disgustingly evil. I’ve noticed that how the world runs and the lack of attention to grave issues regarding the prosperity of nature and humans in general is very unfortunately dominated by billionaires and other capitalists, all with disgustingly little regard for any decency pertaining to morality or the greater good. If they can’t gain from it, they simply don’t care. They are more concerned about their economic status, gain, and the economy itself than the things that have real value when it comes to the betterment of our Earth and its people.

To be specific, right off the bat we have Jeff Bezos. He is THE richest man on the planet. The average person spending one measly dollar is equivalent to Jeff Bezos spending 1.2 million dollars. Adding to this, he roughly makes well over $2,000 every second. He is 36% richer than the entire British Monarchy (or than at least what we know the British Monarchy has). And what does he do with this tremendous amount of wealth? The absolute bare minimum. The only thing he himself has recently done was contribute a small donation of $100 million toward US food banks. Of course, any donation counts, but in this man’s case that’s just like a regular person donating less than 90 dollars: easy and not impressive considering just how wealthy he really is. What’s more, amidst the vast struggling within anyone below upper-class, him along with countless other selfish men are profiting from this. Just within the last couple MONTHS Jeff Bezos has gained 24 billion dollars. Yet, funding issues still remain, healthcare is overflowing, and the working class is suffering. And guess what! Just a few days ago he was announced to be well on his way to becoming the world’s first ever TRILLIONAIRE. I don’t know about you, but trillionaires should absolutely not exist on this planet whatsoever. There are too many injustices to be able to hoard that much money for yourself.

Rich people and even governments are fighting to reopen businesses and the conventional running of day-to-day life solely for the sake of ‘saving the economy’ and their profits. They don’t care about the well-being and safety of others. Minorities and the most vulnerable within society aren’t profitable to them, therefore they don’t exist as something that requires their attention or consideration. They have the privilege to do such incredible things with the wealth they have acquired—but they don’t. They stand by inhumane working conditions within their own companies. They silently watch people struggle and die within the situations they help to ensure. They choose to use their positions of power to prey on and assault others and get away with it. These figures of ‘authority’ do all they can to make it look like workers are being brave for stepping up during these times but do absolutely nothing to ease their material conditions. Oh, wait, the minimum wage was just upped by four whole dollars. That’s definitely going to help protect them from the novel coronavirus and put more food on the table, that’s so kind of them for their generous consideration.

Sorry for the heavy tangent on capitalism, but as of late rich people have been exceedingly getting on my nerves in ways I genuinely cannot describe.

However that aside, I’ve ALSO noticed changes in how humanity tries to bring itself together in a way! In my case, a lot of the bands I like have been providing (pre-recorded from past performances) concerts available to livestream on YouTube and various other insider-personal takes on their music. Those have been really fun; it’s usually on designated Thursdays and Fridays and I have to be awake for 10 am when a concert starts, we (me by myself) go to town for like 3 hours, then I go downstairs to have lunch. Or, a few weeks ago this other group had a 3-day-long (again, pre-recorded) livestream (that started at 11 pm this time) and I ended up staying up till around 3 am with my friend. I had a light stick from when I actually went to their concert in 2018, I was able to sync it up through their app and it probably looked like a low-key rave was going on from the cars passing by. Very good times.

From a non-personal standpoint, I recall seeing videos of people on their balconies in Italy coming out and singing and playing instruments together as a neighbourhood. That was very nice to see, but it’s also worth keeping in mind that is one of the best-case scenario situations and those people were lucky enough to indulge in something like that so nonchalantly. Not to say enjoying yourself isn’t allowed, but it should be acknowledged that just looking at lockdown like that is romanticizing the whole of what’s really going on, as it’s not that glamourous for everybody.

It’s been interesting seeing how people interact with others during their adjusted daily lives, too. I’ll go on walks sometimes and me and my friends will take turns sitting at the end of each other’s driveways and ‘hang out’ like we (well not really) would before. Adding on to human interaction, I’ve seen videos of people handing out packages of things like masks and hand sanitizer to people on the street, or leaving things out for delivery people, quite thoughtful, and maybe one could say even creative, things.

Living the life as you can see (I’m sitting on the grass)

Overall, when all is said and done, in my opinion, I think everything would be much better if the people who are in charge and dictate things A) weren’t painstakingly dense and simple minded—Angela Merkel and her policies would be a great example for countries like England and the US to take notes from; B) genuinely cared about their citizens and not just money and themselves; and C) properly absorbed science and legitimate medical advice and guidelines. Sadly, a lot of people, as you may be able to have tell, are very easily influenced and follow quite blindly *cough* ingesting cleaning products *cough*. But, fortunately that’s only a small portion of the population.

Conversely, this also goes to show other like-minded regular people, in a better light, become closer and stand in solidarity for what they know is best for them and the well-beings of others. Because the majority of us are all in the exact same situation doing the exact same thing, I feel like we can gain a better understanding and deeper familiarity with those around us. And this is really specific, but I think it’s cool how we now get to see some ‘famous people’ (right off the top of my head Doja Cat, Bernie Sanders and Taylor Swift are some examples) just livestreaming or posting themselves existing in their homes and generally having a good time. You wouldn’t get to see that part of their lives too much before. I think I’ve mentioned them over 50,000 times on this blog already, but the other day the band One Ok Rock (whose song I did on the guitar) released an upload of them recreating one of their old music videos while all the members are individually self-isolating.

(Joke explained, the original title of the song is 「完全感覚Dreamer」 (Kanzen Kankaku Dreamer), but they changed it to「完全在宅Dreamer」 (Kanzen Zaitaku Dreamer); the original kankaku means ‘feeling’ or ‘intuition’, and the new zaitaku means ‘staying at home’.)

Above all, it’s difficult to decide whether this has either brought out the best or worst of humanity. I think it’s really subjective to your status and mindset that you had in the first place and what you were dealing with before all this. Adding onto that, we know how the news likes to focus on the negative the most. There are good people in this world, and grouping them together with those who think haircuts are a human right and aggressively protesting in large crowds is a good idea isn’t really fair to them.

As for myself, I haven’t noticed anything prominent come out of myself. The best I can do and what I’ve been doing right now is just following official medical guidelines, keeping distance and not go into super crowded areas, and simply wait for what happens next while staying informed. Nothing outstanding.

Here’s someone’s hot take on the subject matter as well, as much as this is 100% valid I strongly believe it’s worth acknowledging even the smallest good things happening from this too.

[hemmahoshilde-blog]

this post is dedicated to one of my best friends Nana and with thanks to Marius de Pijper for a translation

This time it was easy to pick an artist for my sun and art project. I picked Russian Ivan Aivazovsky who was a really good and productive artist all together and who was in particular good at painting the sun over the sea. The reason I wanted to write this post for my friend is that I want for her to be proud of her roots and this famous Russian painter Ivan Aivazovsky was born in an Armenian family in 1817.

Like Mucha Aivazovsky came from a poor family but he was fortunate enough to find benefactors that spotted his talent and opted to pay for his art education. This was very well Aivazovsky would become one of the most successful painters in Russian history. The tsar was a big fan of his work and even the pope bought a famous painting by him called the birth of the world out of chaos. He often painted Russian ships with dramatic sunlight. He had a very long and productive career until he died, 83 years old while working on a painting. He has painted at least 6000 artworks during his life, but it could be many more.

Around half of them were seascapes. For example:

  The most famous one was called the Ninth wave:

  The sun places an important role here. It would be a really depressing work with the sun but because of the sun it becomes a work of hope instead. Yes the people have been through a terrible storm, but the sun is there and therefor the people might survive it all.

He also did religious paintings like this one that shows the creation out of chaos that he sold to the pope.

  Paintings of his hometown Feodosia  like these and the Crimean coast:

  One of the more famous Crimean paintings he did was of a flock of sheep he owned that were herded near his home. One day a storm killed his flock. He claimed he made this painting for an English collector and was able to buy a new flock of sheep with the money he got for it.

Because he was so successful he could travel around and make paintings of the places he visited. Like Italy, Greece, Switserland, England, Holland, Germany, Polen, Turkey, Egypt Ukraine and USA. But he always returned to Feodosia.

paintings of Ukraine for example:

  Thanks to his travels he could make oriental paintings like these in Egypt:

  and these of Constantinople and the Golden Horn for the Ottoman sultan.

  Aivazovsky said himself that the works in which the principal power was the light of the sun should be considered the best works.

There is a famous story about Aivazovsky’s reaction when he heard that a good client of him, the Ottoman Sultan, had been responsible for the massacre of many Armenians in 1894-1896. He took the golden medals that he had received for earlier works that he had painted for the sultan, pinned them on the collar of his dog and marched to the sea. He threw the medals in the sea and told the Turkish consul in Feodosia told the Turkish consul in Feodosia:

“Tell your bloodthirsty master that I’ve thrown away all the medals given to me, here are their ribbons, send it to him and if he wants, he can throw them into the seas painted by me.”

He painted some paintings to draw attention to what had happened to the Armenian people.

The downside of having such a long career as Aivazovsky was that his works started to get criticism because a new style realism was getting in vogue. Some said his works were too perfect/not realistic enough but that seems a bit silly to say, because Aivazovsky never tried to paint the sea and the sun etc in a realistic way because he didn’t even believe it could be done. He painted everything from memory instead. Aivazovsky wasn’t part of the realism movement. He was part of the romanticism  movement which emphasized intense emotion as an authentic source of aesthetic experience, placing new emphasis on such emotions as  apprehension, horror and terror  (like in the painting the Ninth wave) and  awe —especially that experienced in confronting the new aesthetic categories of the sublimity and beauty of nature.  Nature, the bound between human and nature and feelings were very important to the Romantics. Much more important than whether it looked realistic. Despite that Aivazovsky was still highly respected and popular in particular in his birth town Feodosia where he is buried.

Прекрасного воскресенья, дорогие друзья! Hilde

  Ahoy Ivan Aivazovsky – third sun artist this post is dedicated to one of my best friends Nana and with thanks to Marius de Pijper for a translation…

[sevendeadlyseans]

10 (or 11) Movies Released Last Year That I Really Liked, 2016 Edition

Before I get to my “official” Top 10, one title has been excluded for consideration due to conflict of interest, but would otherwise top my list.  

Darling

Mickey Keating’s 3rd feature (produced by the fabulous Jenn Wexler, a.k.a. my girlfriend) is, of course, my favorite film of the year. I’ve seen it three times in theaters—twice in 2015 on the festival circuit, and again last April on opening night—and still keep finding new, subtle things about it to love.

The story: a young woman is paid to housesit a glorious old building while its eccentric owner is away. Is the house haunted? Is she unhinged? Maybe both? Star Lauren Ashley Carter—rightly recognized as “the Audrey Hepburn of indie horror” by The Austin Chronicle, is in almost every frame of the film and is never short of mesmerizing, whether answering the telephone, putting on make-up or getting her hands dirty by...well, let’s not give away the fun. 

The black and white cinematography is gorgeous, the score crawls under your skin and the editing is legit terrifying. Watch with the lights out.

And now back to our official, less personally biased top 10, in order...

Moonlight

Without question, the most accomplished, most moving film of 2016. 

James Joyce once noted, “In the particular is the universal.” Moonlight is atop my list in no small part because it’s so breathtaking in its particular intimacies. 

Moonlight is like Boyhood on a budget: it drops us into three important periods in the life of a boy who becomes a teen who becomes a man—at first bullied and confused, increasingly neglected by his crack-addicted mother and influenced by a kind-hearted, drug-dealing surrogate father. We see him harden, over time, under the pressure of a world with no use for softness, and then, perhaps, reconnecting with a lost bit of himself, at long last.  

Writing that synopsis, it strikes me how easily such a story could have tipped into cliché and melodrama. Perhaps because writer/director Barry Jenkins and playwright Tarell Alvin McCraney are both from the Liberty City projects themselves. their knowledge—coupled with a great cast, an impeccable soundtrack, a deft use of color and Jenkins’ masterful control of tone—l gives Moonlight specificity, and that makes it universal.

Jackie

Tone is a theme for the first three films on my 2016 list—four if you count Darling, and you most definitely should. Pablo Larrain’s Jackie puts us inside the experience of First Lady Jackie Kennedy in the aftermath of JFK’s assassination, in a way I never thought I could experience:

Your husband was just murdered; his blood is on your dress. Your life is cracked, and even if you put the pieces back together, nothing will ever be the same. Oh, and he’s the president—was the president—so your country is broken, too. History has its eye on you, so while the crushing weight of grief bears down, try to look good for the cameras. It’s only his legacy at stake.

It seems ludicrous to say that Oscar-nominated Natalie Portman is underrated, but somehow she is—and I adored her in Black Swan. In Jackie, she’s working at another level. Open and wounded when no one but us can see, calculating and brittle and angry before an eager reporter. I am excited to see Portman does next.

Special mention to Mica Levi’s score, her second feature after 2013′s Under the Skin. Can’t wait to hear what she does next, too. 

The Witch

Someone had the terrible idea to market The Witch as “the year’s scariest movie.” It’s not, nor is it trying to be. It is, however, among the most unsettling films of this year or any other. (Again: tone.)  

The story: it’s 17th century New England. William, his wife Katherine, and their five children have been kicked out of the settlement being too religious (it seems, or perhaps just too self-righteous) and must find a way to survive on their own on the fringes of the deep, dark wood. 

Before you have time to wonder if the titular witch might be metaphoric, she shows up and does something unspeakable to William and Katherine’s newborn son. Things go downhill from there, exacerbated by both outside, malevolent forces and unacknowledged tensions within the family unit.

The Witch looks gorgeous, as well it should. First-time director Robert Eggers made his bones as a production and costume designer, and reportedly built an actual, mostly working 17th century farm for the film. Even the dialogue itself was built out of scraps of things people wrote and said back then. You can feel the authenticity, which makes the family’s isolation feel that much more acute and dangerous. 

O.J.: Made in America

Bob Dylan never asked “How many minutes does a film have to be, before we can call it TV?” but the answer, my friend, is probably not much more than the 467 minute runtime of Ezra Edelman’s O.J.: Made in America. (For comparison, that’s almost 3 hours longer than a full season of HBO’s Veep.)

It doesn’t help that it was produced by ESPN, or that it aired on that cable network less than a month after it’s Oscar-qualifying theatrical run. And yet...it was my favorite documentary in a year of many great docs (more on that later), so if wants to call itself a movie, I’ll roll with it.

2014 marked the 20th anniversary of the murders. The revived attention around the so-called “trial of the century” led to two great works of art, Edelman’s doc and FX’s American Crime Story: The People vs. O.J. Simpson. (One can only wonder how our present political moment will be filtered through the culture of 2018).

Rather than produce O.J. overload, the two projects complement one another—the dramatic series taking us inside the lives and hearts of key figures on both legal teams, while the doc simultaneously expands the scope and deepens the focus—showing us more about who O.J. was before, during and after, and what America was and still is, especially but not only in Los Angeles, but also in Ferguson, on Staten Island, everywhere. If it takes Edelman 8 hours to set up all details to knock us down with his larger point, well, that’s 8 hours well spent. 

Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrB3rOcrJxg&list

The Lobster

Yorgos Lanthimos’ Dogtooth was one of my favorite movies of 2010. He’s back on the list with a film that’s just as strange but far more accessible. 

I love absurdism, deadpan humor, magical realism and dystopian fantasy, but I can’t recall a film that manages the trick of juggling all three at once as The Lobster does—with an honest-to-goodness love story right there in the middle.

I’ll skip the premise—if you don’t know it, watch the trailer. 

The cast is great, and Colin Farrell is a revelation, topping my previous Farrell favorite, the criminally under seen In Bruges. Lanthimos packs the film with small details that make the surreal world of The Lobster believable. The first shot packs an entire story of love, betrayal and murder (which is never revisited) into a single, long take. And its final, wrenching moments will stay with me forever. 

Film critic Britt Hayes got to the heart of the filmmaker’s uncanny alchemy when she noted “Lanthimos doesn’t heighten reality to an absurd degree; he heightens the absurdity of our existing reality.” Or put another way, he doesn’t add absurdity, he just turns the heat up on reality and our own absurdity bubbles to the surface.

Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LTNZmOJxuAc

Hail, Caesar!

There’s this other movie that’s sort of a throwback to old Hollywood, with some singing and dancing in it. That movie’s fine, but don’t hold your breath, it didn’t make my list. For my money, the real love letter to Hollywood—and why the movie industry matters—came from the Coen Brothers. 

Now, it wouldn’t be a Coens movie if that tender heart weren’t covered under many layers of arch cynicism, stylized reference bordering on “acting” “in” “quotation” “marks” and the occasional silliness. But you don’t have to peel much of it away to see the real love they have for not just the magic of movies but also the joy in so many abandoned film genres that once ruled the box office—be they Gene Kelly musicals, Gene Autry oaters or C.B. DeMille bible epics, to name but a few recreated here. 

For me, Hail, Caesar! sits perfectly between the sour cynicism of the Hollywood in Woody Allen’s misanthropic Cafe Society and the false romanticism of the ambition-for-ambition’s sake “dreamers" of La La Land who prize the warmth of the spotlight over any real human affection. 

Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1NYpz_j3e38

13th

Ava DuVernay’s 13th is a civics lesson for a country in dire need of one. With a controlled but searing ferocity, the documentary lays out the case that the 13th amendment allowed the continuation of a system of oppression and control not all that from slavery: the criminal justice system. If you haven’t read your Constitution lately, here’s a refresher on the 13th, the amendment that ostensibly ended slavery:

“Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.”

This one, terrible clause not just perpetuated slavery under another name but incentivized an expansion of the definition of criminality, in order to profit from the subjugation of mostly brown and black bodies, which has led to an explosion in America’s incarcerated population. In effect, through laws designed to maintain segregation, blackness itself has been criminalized.

With Jim Crow, redlining, lynching (terrorism by another name) and the like, the 13th has led to a more unequal society—and, indirectly, to leaders who lie and stoke racial, as well as religions and ethnic, divisions in order to maintain the ever-growing class divide from which they profit. 

This poor summation doesn’t do justice to the full weight of the case DuVernay and her experts make, or how well they make it. 13th should be required viewing by everyone, but most of all by those who hold the power to make and enforce the law.

Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V66F3WU2CKk

The Love Witch

Let’s start with the obvious: Anna Biller’s The Love Witch is a gorgeous film. Turn the sound off, re-order the scenes at random and you still can’t take your eyes off what looks like a lost Technicolor American Giallo from 1972. Biller not only wrote, edited and directed the film but also handled production design, art direction, set decoration and costuming, almost single-handedly crafting one of the best looking films of 2016. 

Beneath that dazzling frosting is a rich, feminist layer cake. Elaine is a witch specializing in sex magic, who believes her path to happiness lies in finding the right man, seducing him and pleasing him in every way. On paper, she’s a patriarchy’s dream come true. But when these lustful men inevitably fall short—as they all must, as patriarchy itself is built on a lie—she gets rid of them, permanently. Poor, unfulfilled Elaine. 

The Love Witch is Biller’s own magic trick, casting its spell over us with its color, its throwback ‘70s sexploitation vibe and its razor-sharp message we don’t notice until the blade has slid, quietly, between our ribs and stabbed us in the heart. Metaphorically.

Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bXjDEDYlu7c

I, Daniel Blake

Daniel Blake has spent a lifetime working with his hands, supporting a modest but pleasant life for himself and his late wife. After a heart attack, his doctors tell him he’s not fit to return to work—yet with a simple questionnaire (and absent any input from his doctors), the government’s welfare bureau deems him too fit to qualify for disability. 

He can apply for unemployment benefits, but only if he’s actively seeking work—work which, according to his doctors, he can’t accept. Caught in a catch-22, he must appeal to an unreachable “decision-maker” for relief—provided he can find a way, without income or assistance, to get by while he waits. Then Daniel meets a single mother in stuck in a similar situation and does his best to help her struggling family, even as his own situation grows worse.

Ken Loach’s drama won the Palm D’Or at Cannes but has received not much notice since then, at least outside the UK, perhaps because of the specific criticism of the British welfare bureaucracy at the heart of the story. But you don’t need much imagination to see how things can be as bad or worse for the many Daniel Blakes of this country.

Loach has been making socially conscious films about the struggles of the working and lower classes for longer than I’ve been alive. As with Jenkins and Moonlight, it’s clear Loach knows this world, these people and their struggles, and knows how to tell their particular stories in a simple yet powerful, moving and universal way.

Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f4KbJLpu7yo

The Handmaiden

Apologies if you’re getting whiplash. I went from a highly stylized Love Witch to a pared-down I, Daniel Blake. Now I’m going to swing back the other way with Park Chan-Wook’s sensual, sensuous The Handmaiden. 

As has been the case in years prior, the 10th (really, 11th) and final spot on my list could have gone to a number of worthy films, and almost did—I began writing up another film here before realizing there’s no way I could round out 2016 without giving The Handmaiden its due.  (Sorry, Elle!)

The story of The Handmaiden is...too complex to go into here, frankly. There’s a con man and his female accomplice. There’s a rich heiress and her controlling uncle. Some of them are Japanese occupiers; others native Koreans. Oh, ands there’s a library of dirty, dirty books. 

Cons are conned, crosses are doubled, no one is quite who they pretend to be and everyone is up to something. In the end, something real is found and, through it, freedom is won.

The Handmaiden is a thriller as elegant as it is perverse. Every change in perspective brings new meaning to all that’s come before. Every twist revealed is a delight. Park Chan-Wook is at the top of his game.

Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q4Z5jfjxdvQ

Honorable Mentions & More 

Wait, don’t get up. There’s more! 

First, let’s start with honorable mentions that you already know are great: 

Paul Verhoeven’s psychological thriller Elle, which features Isabelle Huppert in one of my favorite performances of the year, or maybe ever.

Denis Villeneuve’s Arrival, which goes on my list of essential smart science fiction, along with Gattaca, Ex Machina, Primer and Under the Skin, to name a few.

Sing Street, one of the most joyful films of the year. A misfit ‘80s Irish teen starts a band so he can cast the girl he likes in their highly creative music videos. From John Carney, the filmmaker behind the equally charming Once.

Nicolas Winding Refn’s mad look at fashion, envy and unchecked ambition (kind of the anti-La La Land?), The Neon Demon.  

Next, films that might have been off your radar but are well worth seeking out:

Benjamin Dickinson’s Creative Control, a very-near-future sci-fi film about augmented reality, and the augmented lives we all want to pretend we’re living (at least on Instagram). A must-see for all my friends in media, marketing or technology. 

Elizabeth Wood’s directorial debut, White Girl, in which a New York City undergrad moves to Queens, dates her local corner drug dealer and learns first hand the limits of her privilege in both their lives.

Taika Waititi’s The Hunt for the Wilderpeople, a reluctant buddy comedy/coming-of-age film that’s way more fun than it has any right to be.

Todd Solondz’s Weiner-Dog, a dark, dark comedy stringing together four tales of unhappy people, all of whom at one point own the same sad canine. Or, for you hard-core cineastes: Au Hasard Dachshund.

American Honey, Andrea Arnold’s sprawling tale of wayward youth living for the moment across a vast swath of America, high and low.

The animated documentaries Tower, which looks back on America’s first campus mass shooting in a surprisingly moving way, and Nuts!, which is the rare doc with an unreliable narrator, which fits the unreliable (Trump-like) conman at the center of its story. 

Julian Rosefeldt’s Manifesto, which I was fortunate enough to experience as a multi-screen installation at the Park Avenue Armory but has been adapted (rather successfully, it seems) as a traditional film. Either way, Cate Blanchett takes on a dozen different guises in a sequence of stunning short films, the text of each comprised of bits of famous manifestos, from Karl Marx’s Communist Manifesto to Jim Jarmusch’s Golden Rules of Filmmaking. 

And last, because the horror genre in near and dear to my heart, here’s #4-#10 on my year’s best horror list. (The top 3 being Darling, The Witch and The Love Witch.)

The Invitation

Green Room

Demon

Under the Shadow

Train to Busan

10 Cloverfield Lane

Southbound

Honorable mention: the “Happy Father’s Day” segment of Holidays

Past years: 2015, 2014, 2013, 2012, 2011, 2010, 2009, 2008

#movies bestof2016 #darling #moonlight #jackie #oj made in america #the witch #the love witch #the lobster #hail caesar #13th #i daniel blake #the handmaiden

[radioleary-blog]

Long Names and Outsourcing Superheroes

It’s not easy writing political comedy.

One factor is the impermanence of a political joke. Even a great political joke has an expiration date, and political narratives change fast these days. Your average political joke has a shorter shelf-life than a pint of half & half that you left in the car. “Honey...when did I write this joke about Trump getting golden showers from Russian prostitutes? Is it still any good or should I throw it away?”

“How does it smell?” she replies from the living room.

“Whew! Pretty funky...I think it’s turned. Dammit! That was a good one.”

“So write a new one,” she says dully, without looking away from whatever TV program has unattractive British servants enduring wretched lives of 19th century drudgery. Which accounts for about half of all PBS programs. Or should I say “programmes.” They’re so depressing. They ought to call it “Downer Abbey.” Or “Upstairs, Downstairs, Blank Stares.” Seriously, man, how much does the BBC pine for the days when the lower classes knew their place? Is that really an era to romanticize, even if they do call it The Romantic era? And who the hell could enjoy watching shows about the help being treated badly? As for me, if I watch even ten minutes of a show with berated butlers and yelled-at scullery maids, I start to get angry. Every time I see some mutton-chopped, inbred Lord of the Manor lining up his staff to lecture and threaten them for poorly-polished silver, or for becoming ‘too familiar’, or for having any normal human desires whatsoever, I have the normal human desire to make him ‘too familiar’ with my fist in his mutton-chop face. Just once, I’d like to see one of the servants he’s giving a good “dressing-down” to turn around and give this privileged twit a good old working-class “beating-down.” I’d like to see the First Footman, or the Second Footman, or some Footman put that foot right up his aristocratic ass.

I was trying to think up some funny-sounding British aristocratic names as examples of noble pomposity, but it turns out they have this new thing called “the google,” so I just looked up some real names instead. These are just a few of the actual descendants of William the Conqueror, who, being British, conquered everything but brushing and flossing:

Flora Paulyna Hetty Barbara Abney-Hastings. That sounds like somebody who never had to fill out their name on a lot of forms. Good luck fitting that on a job application. But of course, nobody with a name that long and dreadfully upper-class ever had to look for work. The longer your name, the easier your life. Hey, I just realized that. I might actually be onto something. Who do you think works harder - a person named Prince Stuart Johann Knud Bernhard Felix Maria René Joseph de Bourbon-Parma (real name), or a guy named Stu Parma? If you’re having trouble figuring that one out, the title Prince is a big clue. The only Prince who ever broke a sweat died last year in Minnesota, and judging by his opioid addiction, it was probably a cold sweat. Stu Parma sounds like an ex-Checker Cab driver from Queens, whereas Prince longname there sounds like an exchequer for the Queen. Big difference between those jobs, and probably all because of the length of their names. Great, just what men need, one more length to feel inadequate about. The only people who work harder than guys named Stu and Kip and Sam are guys with even shorter names like Bo and Al and Ed.

Same thing probably holds true for women, I bet Vikki works a longer shift for less pay than Victoria does. And I bet Kat does things for money that Katerina never would. I’m not thinking sex-worker, necessarily, but if she did it would be all her idea. No, I was picturing Kat doing something more along the lines of a cage-match fighter, or rodeo girl, or tattoo artist. She could set up her own new-school tattoo shop and call it “KATTOOS.” And she’s more likely to be a fun person to party with, too. Kat is a bad-ass who keeps it real, and Katerina will not go down on you even on your anniversary. The longer the name, the less fun and the more stuck up you are. Here’s another real name, and I bet she isn’t bringing any beer or weed to your party: Countess Antonia Charlotte Jeanette Marie af Holstein-Ledreborg. Wow, really? Can we just call you c*ntess for short?

And with the titles and peerage to boot, these names really start to get re-goddam-diculous. Check this guy out, this is a real title: His Royal Highness the Prince Charles Philip Arthur George, Prince of Wales, Earl of Chester, Duke of Cornwall, Duke of Rothesay, Earl of Carrick, Baron of Renfrew, Lord of the Isles, Prince and Great Steward of Scotland, Royal Knight Companion of the most noble order of the Garter, Royal Knight Companion of the most ancient and most noble order of the Thistle, Knight Grand Cross of the most honourable order of the Bath, member of the order of Merit, Knight of the order of Australia, companion of the Queen’s service order, member of Her Majesty’s Most Honourable Privy Councillors, Aide de Camp to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth. WTF? That’s not a title, that’s the whole book! And the sequel! Keep in mind this is just a really fancy way of saying this guy is banging the Queen. This title is so long that when you start saying it you have 13 colonies in the Americas, and when you’re done saying it Cornwallis is surrendering at Yorktown.

But that’s the trouble with those british TV servants, they never fought back against the system like we did here in the colonies. That’s why their rigid class-structure hierarchy remained in place for so long, and they’re still sentimental for it in these godawful butler dramas. They never really had a lot of rebels in England, not for very long anyway, they either came here and started killing Indians, or they got arrested and shipped off to Australia to get eaten by sharks. Even today, British culture doesn’t celebrate the rebel like we do in America. The British never had a ‘Cool Hand Luke,’ more like ‘Keep Calm and Carry On Luke.’ The Brad Pitt ‘Fight Club’ character Tyler Durden sounds like it could be a proper English name, but if there was a ‘Fight Club’ in England, the first rule of Fight Club would be No Fighting.

And hey, did you ever hear Brad Pitt try to do a british accent? Yikes. He has all the range of a veal calf. He sounded worse than Bob Dylan trying to speak Chinese. But strangely, British actors have no problem at all doing American accents. Why is that? In fact, they have taken over a lot of our favorite tv and movie characters. On ‘The Walking Dead’, Rick Grimes, Maggie, Morgan, the Governor, and Jesus are all British. There are so many Brits on the show they should rename it ‘The Ambulatory Deceased’.

And the list includes some of our most beloved Superheroes. Henry Cavill, Christian Bale, Andrew Garfield are English, that’s Superman, Batman and Spider-Man. And even the new Spider-Man, Tom Holland is British. Both Jeremy Irons and Michael Caine were Alfred, which begs the question ‘What’s it all about, Alfred?’ (Ah, you’re too young to get that reference). Two actors have played Professor Xavier and they are both English, so are both actors who played Magneto. Fellow X-Men The Beast, Nightcrawler and Jean Grey, and Avengers Quicksilver and The Vision are British. So are the actors who played Doctor Strange, Daredevil, Commissioner Gordon, The Thing, Mister Fantastic, Odin, Ozymandias as well as super-villains Dr. Octopus, Sinestro, Killer Croc, Col. Stryker, Juggernaut, Toad, Azazel, The Lizard, and Loki. All English. Add to that Ryan Reynold’s Green Lantern is Canadian, while Eric Bana’s Hulk, Chris Hemsworth’s Thor and Hugh Jackman’s The Wolverine are Australian. An Australian Hulk? I understand they let Mel Gibson audition to play Hulk. But the Hulk is a rampaging rage monster who smashes everything in sight, and they felt Mel Gibson was just too angry for the role. Plus the Hulk isn’t anti-Semitic. I’m beginning to wonder if we have any American superheroes left, except for the Captain with America right in his name. If Donald Trump is going to bring back jobs to America, can he please start with our superheroes?

But I digress. I don’t remember what my point was, but I’m pretty sure I had one. Oh yeah, British servant shows. Why do women love these Victorian period pieces so much? They’re usually intelligent and independent women, too, yet these butler-laden bodice rippers get them steamier than an Icelandic orgy.

No, wait, I remember my point now: it’s not easy writing political comedy. Reason two, you get distracted. As I just demonstrated with the last ten paragraphs. I was saying the life of a political joke is short, and getting shorter. There was a time before the 24-hour news cycle when a political scandal stuck around for a long time. Watergate hung around for years and years, like an Irish houseguest. Comics in the 1970’s could take months to work out Watergate bits, and if they were solid, you could tell those jokes for half a decade. Fashions and music trends would change before your Watergate jokes got old. The first time you tell your Watergate joke on stage, you’re wearing bell-bottom jeans and a tie-dye T-shirt, and years later you’re telling it on stage wearing a white Disco suit. And it’s the same old joke about E. Howard Hunt, or H.R. Haldeman, or R.L. Stine, or George R.R. Martin, or whoever the hell was involved in the break-in. And actually, it kind of was a Game of Thrones, except instead of a dragon Queen who could walk through fire, you had G. Gordon Liddy who liked to hold a torch to his hand to show how tough he was. If you don’t know who he is, that’s okay, just picture Negan, but high on cocaine and patriotism.

People had better things to do in the 1970’s than obsess on scandals, and the only way to follow it was in newspapers and on the evening news. Which, if you were not home while the evening news was on, tough luck, there was no recording it. And 1970’s people were definitely out, and doing much cooler things than watching the evening news. Like driving around in a Pontiac Firebird and smoking a joint, or going to a Pink Floyd concert and smoking a joint, or throwing a key-party orgy and smoking a joint, or just smoking a joint and smoking a joint. You could do a lot of fun things in the 1970’s, as long as you had a joint. Those were the rules. Even if you got pulled over by the police, you better have a joint on you, the cops will ask you, “Licence..registration...proof of joint…”

So political scandals unfolded at a leisurely pace. Which is not to say people were not involved in politics, maybe it was the draft, or maybe it was the joint, but they were very involved. They were the only generation that ended an unpopular war through protest, and threw a corrupt President out of office. I think it was the weed, because after that, the police stopped making sure you had a joint.

But things are different in the Trump era. If you can call a presidency that only lasts until he quits this summer an “era”. More like the Trump “error”. Trump has a new scandal every day, every fourteen hours to be precise, so by the time you write a good joke, it’s over. It’s old news, and on to the next scandal. Tiny hands, Meryl Streep, grab ‘em by the pussy, Betsy DeVos, Michael Flynn, and now wiretap, the scandals are coming too fast. - That’s what she said! The jokes are obsolete by the time the pen leaves the paper, because by the time you read this, the whole wiretap scandal will be over and he’ll be on to the next inexcusable act. And that will only be like, two days from now.

I realize now that when I write about politics, I’m like one of those monks who make paintings out of different colored grains of sand. It takes them forever to do it, and the minute they’re done, they erase it. And they move on to the next one.

And I’ve never had more fun.

[gentlemansaurusrex]

The Main Gang of Birmingham

           Hey all, this week’s post is going to be short and sweet. I apologize for the shortness, but it has been a busy week for me. This week’s post I will be looking at gangs, but not just any gang in general, specifically the Peaky Blinders.

           Growing up, whenever I heard the word gang I thought it was quite innocent and took it as a gang of friends. However, I grew up in Northern California and the term eventually changed because of the influences of gangs from Southern California quickly went north. These gangs were mainly the Crypts and the Bloods, but I steered away from all that. As I grew older and focused on the identities of countries after The Great War (1914-1918) many countries fell into disarray either during or after. An example of this would be Russia, slowly transforming into the Soviet Union with the Bolshevik Revolution taking full swing in the latter half of the war. England, was successful with its post-war recovery and sought after establishing itself as a “World Protector” in a way. However, their outward appearance was phenomenal but they had to deal with the internal issue of the Irish attempting to break away from the United Kingdom as well as gangs forming. One such gang was the Peaky Blinders.

           The Peaky Blinders were a gang from Birmingham, England that arose during 1919. The name derives from the hats that they were, peaked styled hats, but had razors sown into the brow of the cap. Often, if the gang members needed to intimidate someone or just for sheer torture, they would take off their peaked hats and bludgeon people with the hats that would brutally cut a person to near ribbons. The intended wounds were to be inflicted on the face, mostly causing people to go blind from taking a hat full of razor blades to the eyes and face. Mostly gangs in England and around the rest of the U.K. were all ethnically divided. With, the Peaky Blinders are not classified to be any type of “ethnic” gang like the classic Italian mobsters from the streets of New York City. They were most likely a combination of people who wanted to work with them. The Netflix Original show with the same name however, depicts them as a Romani-Irish gang with marriage ties to another Romani gang.

           Gangs during this time, in the United Kingdom, focused on getting as much money as they could through any means necessary. Most gang leaders posed as “bookmakers” which was a legal term back in the 1920s as a bookie for horse races or anything that people wanted to make money. This was the what the Peaky Blinders did to make most of their money. They once were a loosely organized group of thugs that transformed into Birmingham’s most sophisticated gang empires.

           While the idea of gangs from the 1920s are interesting and almost give this romanticism, it was a very tough life. Gang members were arrested frequently, you had a target constantly painted on your back by rival gangs, stepping outside of your territory to another gang’s or by going to a pub outside of your own territory almost meant certain death. While a life of crime may seem enjoyable, is it all worth the risk? Also, one thing I never really understood was that the stereotypical gangster always had a Tommy Gun. Its real name is the Thompson Submachine gun. They were used to terrorize neighborhoods in New York, I am not sure if any got to the United Kingdom, but they are very impractical to use in a shootout. They were awkward and heavy. I have held one before and they’re basically bricks that shoot. Thompsons were also used in World War Two, and almost every WW2 film has someone who has one. The actors use them as if they were shooting noodles, but in fact they could not use scale models of them because actors would complain about how heavy the real guns were. Aside from the tangent about the Tommy Guns, most gangsters used revolver pistols. The rare occasion, they would use trench guns from The Great War which were basically shotguns, or specifically with England, they would use the Vickers Machine Gun. The Vicker was also very impractical to use, but did damage when trying to intimidate other gangs. If I were a Peaky Blinder, I would most likely stick to my hat full of razor blades and a trusty revolver.

           Like I said, this was a short post and the research for this post was difficult to find because the topic is only becoming more popular due to Netflix’s show with the same name. If you’re a fan of Tom Hardy, Cillian Murphy, gangs, the UK, or good old-fashioned shootouts, this show is for you.

           Special thanks to a very special fan who gave me the idea to write this post, she’s really the best.

           Next Week: Seeing as Dunkirk is coming out this week, I would like to write about that.

#Shortpost GangsofBirmingham BritishHistory Post-War

[gracewithducks]

Where is Jesus? (Acts 1:6-14) - Ascension Sunday

Some weeks are rough. Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, personally, globally – rough. And this, this was one of those weeks. 

 Last week, our youth led us in an uplifting worship service – full of laughter and positive energy, and the reminder that our decisions matter, and we should think before we act. We were encouraged to be kind, as often as we can, because in life, there is no rewind button; we don't get a chance to do it over again. 

 For many of us, that message hit home on Monday evening, in a devastating way. Young people - predominant women - and their parents were targeted in Manchester, England – as a suicide bomber attacked the crowd leaving a pop concert. For many young people and their families, what had been one of their best nights, long anticipated, much celebrated - quickly became a nightmare. Teenagers, young men and women, parents waiting to pick their children up –even an 8 year old girl, there with her mom and sister - were killed. All in the name of someone's understanding of God. 

 A couple of days later, in Egypt, masked attackers opened fire on a bus full of Coptic Christians, on their way to worship and be refreshed at one of Egypt's most holy and tranquil sites. Men, women, children were killed – all in the name of someone's understanding of God. 

 And on Saturday, on a train in Oregon, a man started ranting and yelling abusive threats at two young women – one a woman of color, the other wearing a headscarf marking her faith. When two bystanders stepped in to defend the women, the attacker turned on them, and stabbed them, and killed them – out of, presumably, his own professed anger that too many Muslims have killed too many Christians over the years. So much violence, so much fear and hatred and revenge and retaliation, so much senseless and needless grief – all in the name of someone's understanding of God.

 And it aches, my friends, it aches, because I know and you know that so many more acts of violence large and small, take place every single day - and hearts are broken, lives and bodies are torn apart, all in the name of someone's understanding of God. 

 And maybe you're like me; maybe you were hoping to come to worship today and find some words of hope or comfort from Christ, the one who we believe came to reveal God to us, the one whose life is the lens through which we understand God. 

 But we are out of luck, because today is Ascension Sunday: today is the day when we remember how Christ, when it all was said and done, how he left us behind. Today of all days, when we need to hear "come to me, you who are weary and heavy-laden" or "blessed are the peacemakers" or even "lo, I am with you always" – today, what Jesus has to say to us is: "Good-bye."

 And I don't know about you, but it leaves me wanting more. All along I've believed, I've preached and staked my life on the belief that Jesus comes to do more than offer us admission to heaven when we die; Jesus comes to give us hope and peace and purpose in this life, in this world, here and now. And yet, in the end, Jesus floats back up to heaven – and we are left, open mouthed, gaping and – for all his promises to never abandon or forsake us – we can start to feel so very much alone. 

 The disciples, Jesus' closest friends, clearly wrestled with the ascension, too. For forty days Jesus had appeared to them, offering them signs of comfort and hope – and that was great – but they were hoping for so much more. 

 So when Jesus gathered them that day and started talking about power from on high - they started to wonder, "Is this it? Finally, at last?" And they asked him, "Lord, is it time? Is it time, finally, for you to set things right?" Sure, we believe that you died and rose again, and that's great, really – but the Emperor is still in control; we are still occupied and oppressed; the same voices that shouted for your death still shout for ours. We believe that death has lost its sting – but we are still being stung. When are you going to set things right? Is it time yet, finally, for your kingdom to come?

 And Jesus says – not even "no;" Jesus says, "It is not for you to know." Don't worry about all that. It's none of your concern. 

 Really? We're the ones trying to make our way in this mess of a world, and it's not our concern?

 And Jesus goes on, "The Holy Spirit will come to you, and give you the power you need. And you will share my good news everywhere, among friends and enemies alike, in your neighborhoods and to the ends of the earth."

 And then, while they watched, he floated away – like a balloon does, when the string slips through your fingers – he floated away, and they stood staring into the sky until he was hidden from them by a cloud. And even then, they stood watching, waiting, confused and befuddled, with no idea what to do. 

 And I have those days, too. I mean, if Jesus came to reveal God to us, if Jesus came to show us the way, and to show us the truth that God is with us – then how in heaven's name can the story end with him leaving us behind? If he came to reveal the good news that God isn't in some heaven, far, far away – then how are we supposed to celebrate today, Ascension Sunday, the day when Jesus floated back up to heaven, far, far away?

 It's not enough. It doesn't make sense. And especially on days like today, on weeks like this, it's downright insulting. Why doesn't Jesus love us enough to stay?

 I was talking to my husband the last couple of days, because – I confessed to him - I've been struggling. I've been wrestling to find the good news for us today. And when I flat-out asked him, "Where is the good news in Jesus leaving us behind?" he rattled off what is, for us, the "right" answer: "It's good news, because unless Jesus left, the Holy Spirit couldn't come."

 And I confess, though I've been taught as much, I'm not so sure. It seems to me like one of those arbitrary rules – like how, in Harry Potter's world, you can use magic for just about everything except making food or making money - like, really? It's magic! Who's to say how magic works?

 And we're not talking about magic, I know, but we are talking about God. And who's to say how God works? Are there really limitations like that on what God can do? Are Jesus and the Holy Spirit like Clark Kent and Superman, or Batman and Bruce Wayne: they can never be seen in the same place at the same time? But isn't the Trinity more complicated than that? There is more to it than God just showing up in different masks and hoping we don't put the pieces together - right?

 I don't know. I confess, I don't. 

 I do know that Jesus says: it's good for me to leave, because then I can send the Holy Spirit to help you and comfort you and guide you and give you strength. 

 So, okay. That's what Jesus says. 

 But I still struggle. Wouldn't it be easier, don't you think, if Jesus stayed? If – instead of an ineffable Spirit who whispers and nudges in each of our hearts, as we try to figure out how best to live – wouldn't it be easier if we could just ask Jesus, and hear what he has to say?

 No more fighting over the Book of Discipline. No more worship wars or wars over interpretation of Scripture. No wondering where to draw the lines, or whether it's possible to love the sinner and hate the sin, or what sins were supposed to be hating in the first place. No fighting over precious rocks or holy pieces of land, when Jesus keeps reminding us that God loves people, not places, and it's God's love that makes lives - not land - holy. Nobody marching off to kill their neighbors in Christ's name – because he'd not only put out a statement against it, he'd catch a plane and be there waiting, sitting with the very people we wanted to bomb. 

 Then again, perhaps I romanticize that possible world: because in the world Jesus was in, nobody wanted to listen to him, anyway. Greed and power and fear are powerful, even when God is standing right before your eyes. 

 So let me tell what I think the good news is for us today – because I do believe it's here. 

 The good news of the ascension is that Jesus leaves: not so God can be far, far away, but so God can be everywhere, all around us, and even within us. That's the promise of the Holy Spirit: that we don't have to wait for a press release, that we don't have to crawl up a holy mountain or wait in line to have our needs heard or our way revealed. God is with each one of us, in every moment of our lives – and in a much more powerful way than one man alone could ever have revealed God's omnipresence, God still really is with us, Emmanuel, always. 

 Jesus ascends, so God can be everywhere – and so God can be nowhere. And that, I think, is good news too. 

 So much of the trouble we get ourselves into in this world, so much of the violence and injustice and the bloodshed – it's done by people who claim to know, for certain, that God is on their side. And if Jesus was still here, physically present, in Israel or Palestine or Rome or the White House – can you even imagine the battles, the power struggles, the wars waged by all those who wanted to own him, to control him, or else to silence and shut him down?

 Even when Jesus was on earth, there was an inner circle, wasn't there? A group of people who were especially close, who could claim to know him better and have more unrestricted access than anyone else. All the crowds could hope for was a glance or a kind word – only a few really got to know him, and to be fully known. 

 But Jesus didn't come to set up another religious elite; he didn't come to establish just another set of us against them. 

 He came for everyone. He came for us all. 

 That's the good news of the ascension: that Christ is equally close to every human being on earth. His love isn't reserved for a chosen few, nor are his grace or his peace. If he stayed, we might never have realized just how broad – and just how powerful – his kingdom of love is. 

 Friends, I firmly believe that, if your understanding of God leads you to hatred, if it leads you to pray for the death of your enemies, if it allows you to stand by while innocents suffer, just so you can make a point – then you are not worshiping the God revealed in Jesus Christ. The voice whispering in your heart isn't the Holy Spirit, it's your own ego. The god you worship is an idol of your own making. 

 The Christ we follow is the one who welcomes children, who values women, who calls unlikely disciples and empowers them with his love. The Christ we follow is one who welcomes strangers and makes room for foreigners at his table, who heals the sick and feeds the hungry – not because they are worthy – but because they are in need. The Christ we follow blesses the poor and the mourning and the peacemakers, and he staked his life on the promise that God's love even conquers death. And he invites us to do the same. 

 We have not been abandoned today: we have been challenged to look around and find that Christ is still with us, in the faces of the children in our neighborhoods and the lonely widows up the street, in the faces of our friends who are sick, our neighbors who are hungry, in homes that are condemned, drinking water filled with lead, in ramshackle tents in refugee camps, washing dishes at our favorite restaurants... Christ has not left us; he is all around us, if only we have eyes to see and the courage to love him, still. 

 May we not be so busy staring into heaven that we miss the opportunities to meet Christ, and to serve Christ, all around us still today. 

  God, sometimes we wonder where you have gone. We feel abandoned; we feel forsaken. Our hearts are breaking; our very world is shaking itself apart – and you are so very far away; we start to wonder if you notice; we start to wonder if you even care. Forgive us, Lord, for all the times when we have claimed you as ours and ours alone – forgive us, Lord, for all the times we have been a part of violence in your name – by our action, by our inaction. Forgive us, Lord, for the times when we have failed to recognize you, and for all the times when we have tried to put limits on your love. Open our eyes. Open our hearts. Empower us, and guide us, by your Spirit. In the name of Christ, risen, ascended, with us still, we pray; amen.

[newstfionline]

Rich Chinese, Inspired by ‘Downton,’ Fuel Demand for Butlers

By Chris Buckley and Karoline Kan, NY Times, Jan. 14, 2017

CHENGDU, China--Mao once said that a revolution was not a dinner party. But with the communist revolution turning into opulent capitalism, China’s rich are now making sure the dinner party settings are immaculate and the wine is poured just right.

Inspired in part by the “Downton Abbey” television drama, the country’s once raw and raucous tycoons are aspiring to old-school decorum, fueling demand for the services of homegrown butlers trained in the ways of a British manor.

“What they would like to say to their friends is, ‘Look, I have a butler, an English-style butler in my home,’ to show how wealthy they are,” said Neal Yeh, a Chinese-born Briton living in Beijing, who for over a decade has helped train and find jobs for butlers.

“The country now with the biggest trend in butlers is China,” said Mr. Yeh, whose English accent would be at home on “Downton Abbey,” the television series about a blue blood family in England, which was avidly watched in China. “I dare say I have played a part in starting this trend.”

Butler training schools and agencies have been doing business in China for more than a decade, but the number of recruits has grown sharply in recent years, according to those in the business. Most are Chinese and many are women. The International Butler Academy China opened in 2014 here in Chengdu, a haze-covered city in southwest China, and offers a six-week boot camp on dinner service, managing homes and other minutiae of high living.

“The Chinese are vacationing more now than ever in history, and so they’re being exposed to the West more and more,” said Christopher Noble, an American trainer at the academy who previously ran bars in Cleveland. “But Chinese people see that, experience top-class personal service abroad, and they want to experience it here.”

A boom in butler service might seem incongruous as President Xi Jinping campaigns zealously against corruption and extravagance, and an economic slowdown undercuts lavish spending. But China’s rich continue amassing ever greater fortunes and want what they see as the trappings of respectable refinement. Even under Mr. Xi, butlers are finding growing work as symbols of good taste, according to people in the business.

“You read about an economic slowdown, but China’s wealth is still growing,” said Luo Jinhuan, who has worked as a butler in Shanghai and, most recently, Beijing, after learning the job in Holland. “Old money has passed from one generation to the next. But the new money doesn’t have the same quality. You need to help them improve.”

If butlers symbolize maturing Chinese capitalism, the somewhat awkward status they have here also reflects how the rich in China must play by different rules than the wealthy in many other countries.

It often comes down to a lack of trust. Wealth in China, where a cutthroat business culture is pervasive, comes with insecurity about being brought low by resentful employees, rivals, and officials, especially with the continuing crackdown against corruption. That wariness discourages many millionaires from hiring their own Jeeves to run their homes, people in the business said.

“Some of them discover that in reality they can’t trust an outsider to manage the household,” said Tang Yang, a marketing director at the butler academy. “They’re unwilling to have a butler who knows all the information about the family.”

Relatively few graduates of the academy end up as traditional household butlers. Instead, many work in high-end clubs, housing estates and executive floors, serving several clients at the same time--not with the same intimacy as a personal butler.

Promoters of butlers in China often point out that the country has its own tradition of high-end service, and the classical Chinese novel, “Dream of the Red Chamber,” features traditional butlers, called “guanjia,” or “domestic manager,” in Mandarin. But “Downton Abbey” helped rekindle a new romanticized interest in old-school service in China.

Many student butlers here said they had watched and rewatched the show as an instruction video on the self-effacing unflappability of domestic service.

“I only began to grasp this profession of butlers after watching ‘Downton Abbey,’” said Xu Shitao, a 34-year-old Beijing native studying at the Chengdu academy. “I think that in the future this profession will be quite popular and will have a market.”

But Ms. Xu and her classmates have found that, in reality, being a butler is strenuous work.

On a recent morning, they practiced for hours, learning to serve wine and water the proper way. Again and again, the class of eight clasped a wine bottle near its bottom and stepped forward in unison around a dinner table to dispense just enough wine to reach the widest part of a wine glass.

Not a drop was to splash the tablecloth or, heaven forbid, a guest.

“Stretch, pour, up, twist, back, wipe. Try to extend your arm,” Mr. Noble commanded, using his ever-present translator. “You want to be able to extend your arm as much as possible. You’re doing a ballet.”

Students also take classes on serving formal dinners, packing luggage, cleaning house and countless other details of managing life for the rich.

“You have to get the details right to do your job right,” said Yang Linjun, a 22-year-old student in the class. “Your arms get sore and your hands hurt, but this is a lifestyle.”

After they graduate, many hope to attach themselves to China’s growing number of superrich. In return, they may earn monthly wages of $2,800 or much higher as personal butlers, depending on experience and luck--more than for many service jobs.

By 2015, China had 400 billionaires and billionaire families, an increase of 65 from just a year earlier, according to Forbes’ annual list. The country’s richest 1 percent own about one-third of household wealth, a share similar to the concentration of wealth in America.

Manners can be rough in China, sometimes in a warm way, sometimes less so. But that has been changing as people grow richer, travel and live abroad, and bring back a demand for polished, attentive service.

“A decade ago, very few Chinese people stayed in five-star hotels,” said Yang Kaojun, a property manager with the Summit Group, which employs teams of trained butlers who are at the beck and call of residents. “But now many people have, and that’s given them some understanding of what good service is.”

As well as the Chengdu academy, the Sanda University, a private college in Shanghai, has incorporated butler training into its hospitality program. Many Chinese also learn how to be butlers in Europe. And Sara Vestin Rahmani, the founder of the Bespoke Bureau, a British company that finds domestic staff members for wealthy employers, said her company planned to open a school for butlers and domestic staff people in China this year.

The number of butlers in China is hard to determine. There may be hundreds or thousands, especially in Beijing, Shanghai and the prosperous south. Ms. Rahmani said that in 2007 her company found positions in China for 20 butlers; by 2015 that number had grown to 375, including 125 with families. Others reported similar growth.

“We are in actual fact exporting to China a trade which was once their own,” Ms. Rahmani said. “With communism, everything that was refined, unique and upper-class became a distant memory.”

But Chinese employers often treat butlers as expensive all-purpose flunkies who should be on call 24 hours a day. That violated the traditional idea of a butler as a respected manager of the household and above most menial tasks. Ms. Luo, the butler, said her work was far more hectic than she imagined. Her daily routine included overseeing the sauna, cinema, bowling alley and other rooms in a 32,000-square-foot home.

“I feel that when work starts, there’s no time at all to stop and rest,” she said. “It’s a lot harder than working in a hotel.”

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