#so deeply deeply the zeitgeist of their whole relationship

[jopzer]

something about roy tucking his face into jamie's neck during 2x12 as a direct contrast to jamie having fully melted into the hug during 2x08 but still taking a few beats before his eyebrows turn and He tucks in his face and starts hiccuping. yea

#beebles #royjamie #ted lasso #roy kent #jamie tartt #i don't have anything smart or sexy to say about this one it's just like. damn #jamie has accepted the affection but the shock and sheer terror in his veins slowly falling off of him #till he's just sobbing quietly into roy's shoulder and the whole team is just fucken. Watching. #to then roy head butting the fuck out of him because their relationship is sort of built on violence?? #and taking it from him and treating him delicately would be theeeeeee last thing jamie would want from him #especially at that stage in his character arc #tbh in both of their character arcs. #but to immediately follow it up with such unwavering and blinding affection #not even just hauling him into the hug but tucking his nose against jamie's next #directly paralleled to jamie tucking his face into roy's #god. God!!! #roy gave the first affection after an act of violence twice!! in such differing contexts!! #and they were both equally meaningful!!! #roy kent!!! you fascinate me!!!! #so deeply deeply the zeitgeist of their whole relationship #they have to have some sort of violent undercurrent before they can really connect and even when they do that violence persists #in a really compelling way btw i love it #theyre besties they inexorably tied to one another theyre sharing traumas and secrets and they also canonically knock one another senseless #i love it. love their relationships to love and violence and emptiness and consumption #man y'all's baggage just lines right up don't it.

[mrgaretcarter]

My experience with Aftersun (2022)

One of my best friends watched this a few days ago and was really excited about it and excited for me to check it out, which always makes me a bit nervous because I don’t like to disappoint, but it turned out there was nothing to worry about here, I really enjoyed the movie and was surprised by how close to home it felt.

Before I get into the main event I wanted to just jot down some smaller things I loved. First off the fact that Sophie’s parents say “I love you”  to each other still, despite being separated, and his explanation to her about why that is. I also really enjoyed the focus on Sophie experiencing and observing people being physically affectionate in a romantic context, and the underlying theme of her mind opening up to that side of life throughout this trip, including the fact that the last and most drawn out instance of this is her watching two men kissing after only seeing heterosexual couples throughout the rest of the movie, which went nicely with the later reveal that adult Sophie has a wife and daughter.

Alright, now onto the thing the movie is mostly about.

The way Sophie dresses and acts and the circumstances of the vacation read as very familiar to me, the whole thing had almost this flashback quality from my perspective, and Sophie’s relationship with her dad really reminded me of my dad and I as well. The closeness, the gentleness, down to the scene where he is teaching her how to get away from an attacker and she’s not taking it very seriously and he’s trying to make her understand this is important, I swear I’ve lived through an almost identical version of that.

Another thing that felt familiar was the physicality between them. I think in general stories about the relationship between a parent and a child tend to emphasize touch more when it involves mothers, however, my experience with my parents was very balanced, and my dad took very close care of me. It was emotional to see that closeness onscreen, not only in affectionate touches, like Calum carrying Sophie around, or the way she hangs off him constantly (which I also did a lot with my dad - and still do!), but in utilitarian ones too, like the scene where Calum takes Sophie’s shoes off, or applies sunscreen to her back.

To build on that, the sheer fact that he was attuned to her schedule and committed to deliberately caring for her, not just in the sense of providing, but of nurturing, and that he did so very naturally, was incredibly special, and I think reflects the current zeitgeist where we’re seeing more and more stories that challenge some of the archetypes of masculinity. I thought it was interesting that the movie itself brings up that dichotomy when it shows Calum’s frustration at not having more money to spend on Sophie and the pressure he feels around that.

The fact that their relationship was so loving though, only makes it all the more heartbreaking when you realize how much pain Calum is in and how lost he feels. Once it becomes clear where things are headed it’s apparent that he is saying goodbye to Sophie at every turn, with every gesture, and that he means all the love he feels for her really sincerely, and deeply regrets not being able to give her more of himself. He is constantly grieving the time they won’t have. The movie does a great job of showing how complex the situation is, and makes it nearly impossible to judge Calum because there is just not an ounce of anger in how it tells his story.

Considering this was based on the director’s real life, I think both the daughter inside the movie and the real one outside of it hold these memories and relay them in a way that serves as a testament to the man their father was; he did something that was deeply devastating for her and yet, the way she remembers him is completely coated in two things: empathy for his pain and the absolute certainty of his love for her.

The movie also reminded me of this post:

Anyway, the direction was great, the whole thing is shot beautifully and Paul Mescal and Frankie Corio give really wonderful performances.

#films 2023 #aftersun #i'll try to review all the movies i see this year #i think it'll be good for me to use my brain a bit #this also kind of reminded me of ted lasso but this time its not brainrot its for valid reasons

[bogkeep]

hmmmmmmmmmm maybe i’ll write an Introspective Musing Post about my relationship to religion and their depiction in stories because i’ve pondering about this topic lately

so for those who are reading this and DON’T know what’s been going on...  there’s this webcomic i fell in love with some years ago, about six years actually, that depicts a post-apocalyptic fantasy/horror adventure set in the nordic countries. it had, and has still, some very uncomfortable flaws regarding racial representation, and the creator has historically not dealt very well with criticism towards it. it’s a whole Thing. my relationship with this comic has fluctuated a lot, since there are a lot of elements in it i DO love and i still feel very nostalgic about, and like idk i felt like i trust my skills in critical thinking enough to keep reading. aaand then the creator went a teensy bit off the deep end created a whole minicomic which is like... a lukewarm social media dystopia where christians are oppressed (and also everyone is a cute bunny, including our lord and saviour jesus christ). which is already tonedeaf enough considering there are religious people who DO get prosecuted for their faith, like, that’s an actual reality for a lot of people - but as far as i can tell, usually not christians. and then there’s an afterword that’s like, “anyway i got recently converted and realized i’m a disgusting human being full of sin who doesn’t deserve redemption but jesus loves me so i’ll be fine!! remember to repent for your sins xoxo” and a bunch of other stuff and IT’S KIND OF REALLY CONCERNING i have, uh, been habitually looking at the reactions to and discussions around this, maybe it’s not very self care of me but there’s a lot of overwhelming things rn and it’s fantastically distracting, yknow? like, overall this situation is fairly reminiscent of the whole jkr thing. creator of a series that is Fairly Beloved, does something hurtful, handles backlash in a weird way, a lot of people start taking distance from Beloved Series or find ways to enjoy it on their own terms, creator later reveals to have been fully radicalized and releases a whole manifesto, and any and all criticism gets framed as harassment and proving them right. of course, one of them is a super rich person with a LOT of media power and a topic that is a lot more destructive in our current zeitgeist, and the other is an independent webcomic creator, so it’s  not the same situation. just similar vibez ya feel as a result of this, i have been Thinking. and just this feels like some sort of defeat like god dammit she got me i AM thinking about the topic she wrote about!!! i should dismiss the whole thing!!! but thinking about topics is probably a good thing so hey lets go. me, i’m agnostic. i understand that this is a ‘lazy’ position to take, but it’s what works for me. i simply do not vibe with organized religion, personally. (i had the wikipedia page for ‘chaos magic’ open in a tab for several weeks, if that helps.) i was raised by atheists in a majorly atheist culture. christian atheist, i should specify. norway has been mostly and historically lutheran, and religion has usually been a private and personal thing. it turns out the teacher i had in 7th grade was mormon, but i ONLY found out because he showed up in a tv series discussing religious groups in norway later, and he was honestly one of the best teachers i have ever had - he reignited the whole class’ interest in science, math, and dungeons and dragons. it was a real “wait WHAT” moment for my teenage self. i think i was briefly converted to christianity by my friend when i was like 7, who grew up in a christian family (i visited them a couple times and always forgot they do prayers before dinner. oops!), but like, she ALSO made me believe she was the guardian of a secret magic orb that controls the entire world and if i told anybody the world would burn down in 3 seconds. i only suspected something was off when one day the Orb ran on batteries, and another day the Orb had to be plugged in to charge. in my defense i really wanted to be part of a cool fantasy plot. i had no idea how to be a christian beyond “uuuuh believe in god i guess” so it just faded away on its own. when i met this friend several years later, she was no longer christian. i think every childhood friend of mine who grew up in a christian family, was no longer christian when they grew up. most notably my closest internet friend whose family was catholic - she had several siblings, and each of them took a wildly different path, from hippie treehugger to laveyan satanist or something in that area. (i joined them for a sermon in a church when they visited my town. my phone went off during it because i had forgotten to silence it. oops!) ((i also really liked their mother’s interpretation of purgatory. she explained it as a bath, not fire. i like that.)) i have never had any personal negative experiences with christianity, despite being openly queer/gay/trans. the only time someone has directly told me i’m going to hell was some guy who saw me wearing a hoodie on norway’s constitution day. yeah i still remember that you bastard i’ve sworn to be spiteful about it till the day i die!! i’ve actually had much more insufferable interactions with the obnoxious kind of atheists - like yes yes i agree with you on a lot but that doesn’t diminish your ability to be an absolute hypocrite, it turns out? i remember going to see the movie ‘noah’ with a friend who had recently discovered reddit atheism and it was just really exhausting to discuss it with her. one of these Obnoxious Atheists is my Own Mother. which is a little strange, honestly, because she LOVES visiting churches for the Aesthetic and Architecture. we cannot go anywhere without having to stop by a pretty church to Admire and Explore. I’VE BEEN IN SO MANY CHURCHES FOR AN ATHEIST RAISED NON-CHRISTIAN. i’ve been to the vatican TWICE (i genuinely don’t even know how much of my extended family is christian. up north in the tiny village i come from, i believe my uncle is the churchkeeper, and it’s the only building in the area that did not get burnt down by the the nazis during ww2 - mostly because soldiers needed a place to sleep. still don’t know whether or not said uncle believes or not, because hey, it’s Personal) i think my biggest personal relationship to religion, and christianity specifically, has been academic. yeah, we learned a brief synopsis of world religions at school (and i remember the class used to be called ‘christianity, religion, and ethics’ and got changed to ‘religion, beliefs, and ethics’ which is cool. it was probably a big discourse but i was a teen who didnt care), but also my bachelor degree is in art history, specifically western art history because it’s a vast sprawling topic and they had to distill it as best they could SIGHS. western art history is deeply entangled with the history of the church, and i think the most i’ve ever learnt about christianity is through these classes (one of my professors wrote an article about how jesus can be interpreted as queer which i Deeply Appreciate). i also specifically tried to diversify my academic input by picking classes such as ‘depiction of muslims and jewish people in western medieval art’ and ‘art and religion’ when i was an exchange student in canada, along with 101 classes in anthropology and archaeology. because i think human diversity and culture is very cool and i want to absorb that knowledge as best as i can. i think my exchange semester in canada was the most religiously diverse space have ever been in, to be honest. now as an adult i have more christian friends again, but friends who chose it for themselves, and who practice in ways that sound good and healthy, like a place of solace and community for them. the vast majority of my friends are queer too, yknow?? i’ve known too many people who have seen these identities as fated opposites, but they aren’t, they’re just parts of who people are. it’s like... i genuinely love people having their faiths and beliefs so much. i love people finding that space where they belong and feel safe in. i love people having communities and heritages and connections. i deeply respect and admire opening up that space for faith within any other communities, like... if i’m going to listen to a podcast about scepticism and cults, i am not going to listen to it if it’s just an excuse to bash religion. i think the search for truth needs to be compassionate, always. you can acknowledge that crystals are cool and make people happy AND that multi level marketing schemes are deeply harmful and prey on people in vulnerable situaitons. YOU KNOW???? so now’s when i bring up Apocalypse Comic again. one of the things i really did like about it was, ironically, how it handled religion. in its setting, people have returned to old gods, and their magic drew power from their religion. characters from different regions had different beliefs and sources. in the first arc, they meet the spirit of a lutheran pastor, who ends up helping them with her powers. it was treated as, in the creators own words, ‘just another mythology’. and honestly? i love that. it was one of the nicest depictions i’ve seen of christianity in fiction, and as something that could coexist with other faiths. I Vibe With That. and then, uh, then... bunny dystopia comic. it just... it just straight up tells you christianity is literally the only way to..?? be a good person??? i guess?? i’m still kind of struggling to parse what exactly it wanted to say. the evil social media overlord bird tells you the bible makes you a DANGEROUS FREETHINKER, but the comic also treats rewriting the bible or finding your own way to faith as something,, Bad. The Bible Must Remain Unsullied. Never Criticize The Bible. also, doing good things just for social media clout is bad and selfish. you should do good things so you don’t burn in hell instead. is that the message? it reads a lot like the comic creator already had the idea for the comic, but only got the urge to make it after she was converted and needed to spread the good word. you do you i guess!! i understand that she’s new to this and probably Going Through Something, and this is just a step on her journey. but the absolute self-loathing she described in her afterword... it does not sound good. i’m just some agnostic kid so what do i know, but i do not think that kind of self-flagellating is a kind faith to have for yourself. i might not ever have been properly religious, but you know what i AM familiar with? a brain wired for ocd and intrusive thoughts. for a lot of my life i’ve struggled with my own kind of purity complex. i’ve had this really strange sensitivity for things that felt ‘tainted’. i’ve experienced having to remove more and more words from my vocabulary because they were Bad and i did not want to sully my sentences. it stacked, too - if a word turned out to be an euphemism for something, i could never feel comfortable saying it again. i still struggle a bit with these things, but i have confronted these things within myself. i’ve had to make myself comfortable with imperfection and ‘tainted’ things and accept that these are just, arbitrary categories my mind made up. maybe that’s the reason i can’t do organized religion even if i found one that fit for me - just like diets can trigger disordered eating, i think it would carve some bad brainpaths for me. so yeah i’m worried i guess! i’m worried when people think it’s so good that she finally found the correct faith even if it’s causing all this self-hate. is there really not a better way? or are they just trusting she’ll find it? and yeah it’s none of my concern, it’s like, i worry for jkr too but i do not want her within miles of my trans self thANKS. so like, i DO enjoy media that explores faith and what it means for you. my favourite band is the oh hellos, which DOES draw on faith and the songwriter’s experience with it. because of my religious iliteracy most of it has flown over my head for years and i’m like “oh hey this is gay” and then only later realize it was about god all along Probably. i like what they’ve done with the place. also, stormlight archive - i had NO idea sanderson was mormon, the way he writes his characters, many of whom actively discuss religion and their relationship to it. i love that about the books, honestly. Media That Explores Religion In A Complex And Compassionate Way... we like that i’ve been thinking about my own stories too, and how i might want to explore faith in them. most of my settings are based on magic and it’s like, what role does religion have in a world where gods are real and makes u magic. in sparrow spellcaster’s story, xe creates? summons? an old god - brings them to life out of the idea of them. it’s a story about hubris, mostly. then there’s iphimery, the story where i am actively fleshing out a pantheon. there’s no doubt the gods are real in the fantasy version of iphimery, they are the source of magic and sustain themselves on slivers of humanity in exchange. but in the modern version, where they are mostly forgotten? that’s some room for me to explore, i think. especially the character of timian, who comes from a smaller town and moves to a large and diverse city. in the fantasy story, the guardian deity chooses his sister as a vessel. in the modern setting, that does not happen, and i don’t yet know what does, but i really want timian to be someone who struggles with his identity - his faith, his sexuality, the expectations cast upon him by his hometown... i’m sure it’s a cliché story retold through a million gay characters but i want to do it too okay. i want to see him carve out his own way of existing within the world because i care him and want to see him thrive!!! alrighty i THINK that’s all i wanted to write. thanks if you read all of this, and if you didn’t that’s super cool have a nice day !

#rambles #i wrote this for me and theres no obligation to read it

[recentanimenews]

INTERVIEW: Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid and the Directors' Legacy

  Additional reporting by Kyle Cardine

  On July 7th, Kyoto Animation released the first episode of Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid S, the second season of the Dragon Maid franchise. This marked not only the return of a fan-favorite series, but the comeback of the globally beloved studio as a whole. We wrote on Kyoto Animation’s indomitable spirit in our interview with studio president Hideaki Hatta last year, and now we see that spirit communicated through Dragon Maid’s incredible dual capacity for intricately animated sequences and depth of emotional expression. 

  On the occasion of both Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid and Kyoto Animation’s latest return to anime, Crunchyroll News had the opportunity to talk with Tatsuya Ishihara, the director of the second season of the series, about Dragon Maid’s return, his responsibilities as incoming director and more.

      Ishihara the Director

  Tatsuya Ishihara is a long-time Kyoto Animation director who has produced some of anime’s sharpest comedy sequences alongside some of the most emotionally resonant, often in the same series. “I’ve had experience with works that combine comical and serious aspects, and I like them,” Ishihara said when asked about this continuing theme. “I find them rather fun and easy to do.” Though it may be humble, his answer gestures towards his immense talent for finding the poignant within the comedic, as well as the comedic within the poignant, a talent we can trace through his entire career with the studio.

  In 2005, Ishihara made his directorial debut at Kyoto Animation with the adaptation of the Key Visual novel Air. His philosophy of negotiating his own interpretation of a work with audience expectation can be seen throughout his career, starting with Air and continuing into adaptations of two more Key visual novels—Kanon and the acclaimed Clannad. “I’m not an artist trying to express my own sense of self. I’m thinking of the viewers and their expectations. My job as director is to marry my own interpretation of a work with viewer expectations,” Ishihara would later say in the Love, Chunibyo & Other Delusions limited edition box set booklet.

  However, the first title in which Ishihara’s incredible talent would truly be embraced by the masses in the West is inarguably 2006’s The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya. A series absolutely packed with incredible comedy, supernatural intrigue, disarming drama, and pleasurable slice-of-life, Haruhi is dense with directorial flair. Ishihara’s ability to deftly maneuver between comedy and drama truly struck the zeitgeist in mid ‘00s Western anime fandom, to the point where Haruhi cosplayers and “Hare Hare Yukai” flash mobs were inescapable.

  Ishihara’s credits continue on to include a second season of Haruhi, legendary comedies Nichijou (2011) and the aforementioned Love, Chunibyo & Other Delusions (2012), and the coming-of-age drama Sound! Euphonium. All of these series embody Ishihara’s talent for balancing drama and comedy as well as his philosophy of mediating between his artistic expression and giving the audience what they want in different, equally affecting ways, and it is this body of experience that Ishihara has taken with him into his work on Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid S.

      Ishihara and Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid S

  The relationship between Kyoto Animation and the Dragon Maid manga series was formed quite early. According to a Futabasha editorial representative we spoke to in the making of this article, the publisher received an offer from Kyoto Animation to produce the adaptation shortly after the first volume was released. In January 2017, the studio released the first episode of Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid, quickly met with a warm embrace by fans.

  The life that Tohru and Kobayashi build together is one full of warmth and laughter, woven from the comedy and drama that comes from the differences between the humans and dragons of the series. Despite the supernatural beings that make up half of its cast, the true magic of the series can be found in the deeply touching depictions of everyday life, a place where KyoAni is particularly adept. “In the anime, Kanna’s familiarity with everyday life was more emphasized,” Dragon Maid manga author Coolkyousinnjya said to Crunchyroll News. “There were more details, and a lot of things amazed me when I watched it.”

  リリイベお疲れ様でしたー　すごくよかったです pic.twitter.com/FW5pkCtiD4

— クール教信者＠夏アニメ「小林さんちのメイドラゴンS」「ピーチボーイリバーサイド」「平穏世代の韋駄天達 (@coolkyou2) July 24, 2021

An illustration from Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid creator Coolkyousinnjya

  Before we begin to talk about Ishihara’s involvement in Dragon Maid, we must address a painful, necessary truth: Tatsuya Ishihara did not direct the first season of the series. Rather, it was the late director Yasuhiro Takemoto who first helmed the title. Takemoto directed many of Kyoto Animation’s most defining and iconic works, beginning with the initial two episodes of the 2002 Nurse Witch Komugi OVA (the only two that were produced by Kyoto Animation), 2003’s Full Metal Panic? Fumoffu and its 2005 sequel Full Metal Panic! The Second Raid. He then directed the lion’s share of the absolutely iconic Lucky Star (2007), Hyouka (2012), Amagi Brilliant Park (2014), and, of course, season one of Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid. Throughout all of his work, but especially in Nurse Witch Komugi, Lucky Star, and Dragon Maid, you can see an absolute adoration for and celebration of otaku culture. 

  “I'm trying to keep the style of Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid that the first anime series and the original work have,” said Ishihara. “I'm taking over from the previous series, so I'm trying not to change the atmosphere.” And, as any fan of the first season will tell you, he has succeeded. From the pitch-perfect fish-out-of-water comedy to the jaw-dropping non-sequitur fight scenes to the sudden moments of deeply human empathy between Kobayashi and the dragons—everything that worked about the first season works here, too. 

  “I think it is my role to take over and convey the ‘feelings’ of the staff from the previous season while directing this season,” said Ishihara.

    Yasuhiro Takemoto’s affinity for a specific period of otaku culture is woven through the first season of the series, especially with the protagonist Kobayashi and the characters Takiya and Fafnir. That aspect of the series identity is carried on in Ishihara’s season as well. “I thought I might be able to have an otaku talk with Takiya and Kobayashi-san, but their ages are so far apart from mine that I might not be able to talk with them,” said Ishihara when asked which member of the Kobayashi cast he would spend a night talking with. “That's actually been happening a lot in real life lately, which makes me sad. That's why I think it's Lucoa. She is kind and seems to be willing to listen to me.”

  The comedic set up of the question was undercut with a surprising poignancy at Ishihara’s admittance that otaku culture is moving on from the form he is familiar with. That same emotional resonance is coincidentally echoed in the first episode of Dragon Maid S, when Kobayashi says, “People don’t use the word moe very much anymore, but they’ve kept the spirit of those times.”

    Ishihara and the Core of Kyoto Animation

  When the name Kyoto Animation is brought up to me, I immediately think of Sound! Euphonium’s Kumiko Oumae, her face contorting in frustration as she runs through the streets of her town, unable to hold herself back from screaming “I want to improve!” out loud. I imagine, for many anime fans, similar scenes come to mind—pathos, love, laughter, tears, all written on the faces of characters rendered in ways few other studios can. To quote Clannad’s first ending theme, “All that’s happy and all that’s sad rolled into one.”

  The craft on display in Dragon Maid S is, of course, apparent to anyone that watches even a few seconds of an episode. Effortlessly shifting from subtle character acting and loving renderings of scenic everyday life to mind-melting supernatural battles featuring some of the best fight choreography of the year. 

    How can one team balance the demands of such polar opposite tendencies in a series? “Even in animation,” Tatsuya Ishihara responded, “if the setting of the work is close to reality, the movements of the characters will be limited to realistic theatrics. However, animation is supposed to be freer, and the designs, movements, and theatrics of the characters themselves should be exaggerated. In this respect, Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid is a fantasy, so it is easy to make use of the original characteristics of animation. By exaggerating the movements and expressions of the characters, I try to make them even more humorous and convey their feelings.” Animation is the medium, not film, and Ishihara and his team are making full use of it.

  Animation, no matter how impressive, must be in service of a story to reach something beyond pure spectacle. The staff of Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid S understands the characters and their feelings, their situations, their histories, and what they care about. Ishihara understands the power that can come from a story about two groups of people with seemingly irreconcilable differences coming together to build a life of found family.

    “It is normal that you and others are different, so it is important to accept that and to acknowledge each other's diversity,” said Ishihara. In the age of the Internet, I think we have come to realize that people around the world are not united, but rather that there are people with many different ways of thinking. One of my favorite lines is when Fafnir says ‘The common sense of this [human's] world doesn’t completely mesh with our [dragons'] understanding’ and Tohru responds to him by saying ‘but isn’t reconciling that kind of fun?’”

  For the past few years, increasingly, I have felt like we are all living in a broken world; People are divided by distance, ideology, and disease. The climate is changing. And reporting about these topics crashes against us constantly, each day feeling as if it brings more bad news than the last. But I have found refuge in the works of Kyoto Animation, as have many others. In the stories this studio has told, fans are able to see the beauty that can be found in life, no matter the circumstances. Sometimes, in the midst of a reality that seems grim and harsh, you need to be reminded that there is still love and fun to be found. Sometimes, all it takes to bring you to that state of mind is the story of a woman and the dragon that loves her. 

  TVアニメ「#小林さんちのメイドラゴン Ｓ」第1話『新たなるドラゴン、イルル！（またよろしくお願いします）』をご覧いただきありがとうございました❣ Illustration：石原立也（監督）#maidragon pic.twitter.com/49wE3HeLrS

— TVアニメ「小林さんちのメイドラゴンＳ」公式 (@maidragon_anime) July 7, 2021

Episode One Thank You Illustration from Tatsuya Ishihara

  “I’m sure many of you were worried, but we were able to release Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid without any issues,” said Ishihara. “I would like to continue to create enjoyable works, so please have fun.”

    Cayla Coats is the Editor-in-Chief of Crunchyroll News EN. She tweets @ceicocat.

  Kyle Cardine is a Managing Editor for Crunchyroll. You can find his Twitter here.

By: Cayla Coats

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

[mydearjonah]

jenni’s TMA fic recs

for Elena @wellbustmybuffers but also anyone who wants it. 

i have spent a lot of time reading fanfiction, and i have read (at this point) almost everything that has piqued my interest in the tma ao3 tag from it’s inception to roughly july 18th, 2020. this is an absolutely non-exhaustive list of my all-time favorites. i tried to pick the things that stuck in my mind the best. it is also heavily skewed, naturally, by my own personal preferences.

to see all that i have bookmarked (as well as my own work), go here. i stand by all of these fics & only bookmark if i was really impressed with something. 

i marked the ones that i rec the absolute STRONGEST with a star.

jonmartin

☆ A Measure Outside of the Lines by Rend_Herring; https://archiveofourown.org/works/22202806  

imo i consider this to be THE scottish safehouse period fic. scottish safe-house period is a great sub-genre of jonmartin fic that i highly rec to you, elena, especially if you’re just coming off of 159, and this is my favorite and the one that i feel captures their personalities and dynamic the best. highly, highly recommend; one of my top three favorites in the whole fandom. 

Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey; https://archiveofourown.org/works/22230022/chapters/53078617 

“Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.” 

extremely well-written jonmartin timetravel shenanigans pining. really, really good jonmartin content. i would describe the genre as “time travel fix-it au romantic comedy.”

take sides in divided cells by bibliocratic; https://archiveofourown.org/works/22456720 

“Martin's father comes back into his life.“ 

post-series 5 jonmartin happily ever after set-up that allows the author to delve deeply into martin’s psyche. fanfiction at it’s finest. 

Dethroned by inkedinserendipity; https://archiveofourown.org/works/22342663 

post-series take. warning for major character death. this is peak well-written yet sad & indulgent angst-y jonmartin. 

Be Your Raincoat by free_smarcher; https://archiveofourown.org/works/23479480

“It's a rainy night at the tail end of 2013, and Arctic Monkeys' latest record is everywhere - including at the pub where a young Martin Blackwood is hung up on his coworker from the Institute.” 

pre-series oneshot that i adore for three reasons. 1) the jonmartin pining is absolutely excellent, in-character, gorgeous, 2) the author has a very sharp grasp on martin blackwood specifically that i think is rare in the fandom and 3) the author PERFECTLY captured the late 2013 Arctic Monkeys perpetual AM album zeitgeist in a way that makes me specifically feel SUPER nostalgic. 

The Watford Gap by chewsdaychillin; https://archiveofourown.org/works/24886216

“a Martin and his relationship w the og three study w class/accent discourse, pet names, slang, and tenderness. jonmartin north/south power couple“

pre-series oneshot jonmartin pining that i cannot recommend enough. author has an extremely good grasp on s1 characterization as well as british sociocultural realities. this fic makes me very emotional for a lot of reasons. 

jonmartin but with heavy monster!jon (and written before s5 aired so speculative as to the endgame plot--still rec tho if you like monster!jon)

☆ ceylon, assam, and darjeeling by Sciosa; https://archiveofourown.org/works/20577347/chapters/48849719 

“People do not bring Jonathon Sims tea. Martin Blackwood, newly-minted archival assistant, has apparently not received this memo.”

i absolutely cannot express how much i adore this fic. it’s a three-parter that follows the jm relationship as it develops through the lens of martin making jon tea. the final part is the real whammy. i have read this fic repeatedly and cried each time.

Fall into the night with you by ZaliaChimera; https://archiveofourown.org/works/19851157 

“It's the end of the world, and Martin has one more thing to do before it is the end of him too. There is a calm wrapped thickly around the Institute, the eye of the storm, and Martin climbs.“

for me, this is the absolute peak monster!jon/martin. i will not lie, you gotta heed the warnings on this fic. but the end of this fic haunts me. 

lonely eyes

a note: i LOVE lonely eyes but a lot of it is really smutty or slice of life. i tried to choose the fics that i thought captured both characters the best and were smart & intentional about the dynamic. elena, if u ever go down the lonely eyes road & are interested in other recs, please let me know!

☆ Luck Be A Lady Tonight by prodigy; https://archiveofourown.org/works/20257240 

“In 2014, Elias Bouchard takes a rare trip outside of his comfort zone. Peter Lukas wastes a bunch of money. You'd be surprised how many things can go wrong for two beings of cosmic power.”

this is a black comedy casino episode lonely eyes take that is one of my favorite pieces of work in this fandom and also, honestly, one of my favorite pieces of fiction straight up that i have ever read. prodigy has an extremely sharp grasp on both peter and elias (but especially peter), and they breathe life into the world of mag in a way that is absolutely unparalleled, even at times by the original series imo. 

walled up in your kingdom with radio wires by Ronabird; https://archiveofourown.org/works/24465679 

so i’m not gonna lie i’ve never read His Dark Materials but this is a daemon au that i just can’t get enough of. it’s a short lonely eyes piece; the basic gist of it is that peter has lost a bet and now jonah gets to meet his daemon. this fic has everything that i want and rarely get in lonely eyes works: statements on both peter and jonah’s characters, and their dynamic sharply written. again, the last lines of this piece have stayed with me as well. 

jonelias (i’m sorry...)

note: none of these are terribly explicit but instead largely it is about their dynamic. 

a fish hook, an open eye by marrowbones; https://archiveofourown.org/works/22351618 

“Jon and Martin take a surreal holiday after escaping the Lonely. Everything would be fine if only Jon's strange dreams of Jonah Magnus would stop.”

this is a jonmartin fic in equal turn. set during the scottish safehouse period. essentially, jon is trying to reconcile that fact that elias is jonah while also being visited by him in his dreams. this is one of the first jonelias fics written after the “elias is jonah magnus” reveal, and i think it is still one of the absolute best. the author does a phenomenal job capturing this looming, atmospheric sense of dread. they also totally nail jonah magnus and the jonelias dynamic. 

thieves in the temple by havisham; https://archiveofourown.org/works/23287711 

“Elias wins and takes Jon out on the town.“

very short; shares a lot of the same dna as a fish hook, an open eye. essentially a dream-state meeting between the two of them during early s5. “a perfect fic.”

Eye to Eye by Dribbledscribbles; https://archiveofourown.org/works/24194554 

“In which Jonah Magnus attempts a post-apocalyptic pep talk.“

a s5 pep talk from jonah, who the author absolutely NAILS, to jon. this is not a fic with a happy ending so be warned. but it is a very satisfying read and the ending is... not quite a twist, but a really well done, dark reveal. 

heterochromia by screechfox; https://archiveofourown.org/works/21186011 

“After Jon drags Martin out of the Lonely, Jon and Elias trade an eye for an eye. Quite literally.“

post-ep 159. this is basically a jonmartinelias fic, honestly. i am adding this here because i love it SO MUCH but also it is so intensely up my particular alley. hurt/comfort/angst. also GORE AND BODY HORROR. but it wraps up to be weirdly sweet. i cry every time ngl i’ve read this fic a lot. it’s because i’m a monsterfucker i’m sorry. 

a love that tastes like spring by sugarboat; https://archiveofourown.org/works/20189953 

this is a comically well-written jonelias hanahaki fanfic. that’s it. that’s the plot. it’s amazing. it’s basically a shojo oneshot except with in-character jon and elias. this is one of the first fics i read in this fandom that totally blew me away. 

stand-alones/gen/other

☆ The Timeline of the Theseus by Applea; https://archiveofourown.org/works/24018289/chapters/57784525 

“Jon tries to force the Spiral to send him back, but the Sprial's corridors never twist things quite the way you want them to. Back in 1996, Elias has no idea why or how the Eye made such a powerful Avatar out of an 8 year old, especially when said 8 year old doesn't actually know he has any powers at all. Clearly such a child cannot be left outside the Institute's care.”

i absolutely cannot say enough about this fic. this is one of the few works of fiction i’ve read in my life that i was so obsessed with i genuinely ruined my sleep schedule to finish. this fic is absolutely HILARIOUS. essentially, jon is an extremely powerful 8 year old w/ no knowledge of who he is who is being raised by jonah, who is completely out of his depth. also has a nice touch of gertrudeagnes & the author really nails their dynamic/the tragedy of their relationship...

☆ Scarred Ground by DictionaryWrites; https://archiveofourown.org/works/21791737/chapters/51999124 

this is a really interesting work of fiction just generally. it features a non-linear narrative, plays with a lot of unreality, and has a great deal of time wonkiness. i actually can’t explain the plot without giving it away, which i resolutely do not want to do because piecing together what is going on is a huge part of the fun. martin is the primary character, but everyone is featured. jonmartin and lonely eyes are the two ships. one of my favorite works in the fandom.

the last lines/final reveal absolutely tore me apart. i cried like a baby. 

patterns by fadewords; https://archiveofourown.org/works/22015792 

“Jon is ill and can't stop Knowing things. Daisy helps.“

long and worth it. very well-written. the author is very talented and essentially uses the world/set up of mag and the beholding to play. set during s4. everyone is extremely in character. 

out in the drowning deep by Wildehack; https://archiveofourown.org/works/21473506 

“Basira holds it together.”

basira-centric s5 speculative fic. it has since been jossed but that’s no matter. this is one of the best basira fics in the fandom imo, and honestly the only one that i’ve read that i feel really nails her character and her relationship with daisy specifically. in general as well, this is a really fun speculative take on the apocalypse written before s5 aired. 

Chasm-e-Baddoor by kashinoha; https://archiveofourown.org/works/23917396/chapters/57510853 

“Wherein Jonah Magnus gets acquainted with defeat at the hands of his associates. Repeatedly.”

lonely eyes a little but overall gen. essentially just a very well-written 3 piece suite about instances over the course of jonah magnus’ long life when he gets absolutely schooled by people within it. the gertrude piece is my favorite, to the point where i consider it canon. 

And All Should Cry, Beware! Beware! by OldSwinburne; https://archiveofourown.org/works/24623179/

“When the Eye decides to select a new Avatar, it chooses Martin Blackwood, the Poet, rather than Jonathan Sims, the Archivist.“

very unique & well-written monster!martin that haunts me. 

avatar groupchat by gayprophets; https://archiveofourown.org/works/21599185/chapters/51501598 

fun gen popular chatfic. one of the only chatfics i’ve ever read where everyone is in character. a must-read in the fandom. lots of laughs to be had. i like that they bully elias. 

this is really just the surface!! there’s A LOT that’s still on my to-read list, and also obviously a lot of new and probably phenomenal work has been published since july 18th that i have to catch up on. i hope that you enjoy!!! i love fanfiction and there’s a lot of really unique and fun stuff in this fandom

#me #/ #my stuff #jonelias #jonmartin #lonely eyes #ships tagged for my own blog's purposes

[ficclique]

Fic Clique hosts choices for our top fics of the decade - as featured in our Minisode from Jan 3rd. 

Brenna’s choices: 

Honorable Mentions: 

Worldwide Lonesome by loindexter (BTS) 

2018, 39k, Yoongi/Jin 

The biggest gut-punch I’ve ever felt from a character confession. The Jin of this fic has stuck with me every day since reading it. This fic examines sexuality in a way that made me feel seen & I love that.

Timeshare by Astolat (HP) 

2016, 14k, Draco/Harry 

This is sort of a stand-in for all of astolat’s drarry fic, which as a bundle are one of my top fics for the decade. They are fics that feel like instant-classics and the variety of characterizations, stories and tropes helped establish astolat as perhaps my all time favorite fic author. Timeshare won out above the others because it’s one of the fics that helped us decide to do this podcast! Thank you Timeshare! 

Top 5 picks: 

The Student Prince, by Fayjay (Merlin)

2010, 145k, Merlin/Arthur

A fic that has defined fanfiction for me. Perhaps the fic that first convinced me to love fanfiction. Something I keep coming back to and have reread numerous times. Funny, heartfelt, just different enough from the canon versions of characters. Perhaps the only University AU I will ever fully love. 

The Love Song of the North American Douchebag, by Gyzym (Star Trek RPF)

2013, 25k, Chris/Zach

If you want to hear me (and my lovely co-hosts) discuss this fic in depth, then I recommend listening to Episode 6! However, one of our listeners also submitted this as a top fic of the decade, so I’m going to add what the lovely Scout said: 

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, I HOPE I CAN SWEAR. I'm not even in this fandom. The world building is just THAT good. It's one of my highlights *because* of its power to draw me in as a standalone. So much fucking talent in the transformative work community. The banter, characterization, sardonic-ness of this – international impact baby!”

Not Easily Conquered (series), by dropdeaddream & whatarefears (MCU)

2015, 117k, Steve/Bucky 

An incredibly, precise, gut-wrenching trilogy. Each part is astounding both together and apart. A devastating exploration of love and dedication. One of those fics that created a Fandom Moment. I sobbed through the entirety of part 2 when I first read it. Womb to tomb, sweetheart. 

Azoth by zeitgeistic (HP)

2013, 88k, Draco/Harry 

A stunning exploration of magic beyond JKR’s universe. A timeless coming together of two characters. A frankly genius use of a plot device (and something as simple as a school project) to foster an incredibly touching and meaningful relationship, one in which they are not able to find what they need to complete their task until they find what they need in each other.  ALCHEMY BABY! 

Honeysuckle Arch by junkshopdisco (1d) 

2015, 46k, Niall/Harry 

Perhaps the most I’ve ever related to a character in fic. The Niall of this fic lives in my heart, and I feel like reading him helps me understand myself, and everytime I come back to it I understand him better too. It’s a touching portrayal of a character coming to terms with their sexuality in a way that feels completely grounded and who is surrounded by characters who love them, even if they don’t always know how to show it. 

Nicole’s choices: 

Honorable Mentions: 

Protostellar by ninamondays 

bts, 64k, pub 2019, Namjoon/Jungkook & Taehyung/Jimin

Space, cryogenics, fate, reincarnation, class struggles, revolution, climate change, character death. Having hope is punk rock. Processing grief is a slow and ugly process. [deep breath] Have I ever felt so profoundly touched by a fic while I was reading it?

the other thing by cornfields 

hockey rpf, 16k, pub 2015, Jamie/Tyler

An absolutely unflinching look at personal accountability and internalized homophobia. What happens when your self-hatred has collateral damage? It’s about healing but it’ll fucking hurt first. Bleached out vibes. Makes texas feel very big, and the world feel very, very small. A story I’d only trust a fic author to tell.

Top 5 picks: 

Murmuration by fringecity (indiachick) 

bts, 167k, pub 2018, Yoongi/Jimin/Taehyung

Film noir/murder mystery meets gritty sci fi and superpowers. Everyone is morally gray. You Will sob about Kim Taehyung. A masterclass in plot. Felt like a trilogy all wrapped tightly into one fic. A kaleidoscope. An unfurling. This fic mesmerizes.

The River and the Deep Green Bend by liquidmeasure 

1d, 70k, pub 2016, Harry/Niall

Dark tower au, but only technically. Makes me want to believe in the multiverse. An arid western, a sideways coming of age story, an elegy. The first time I’ve ever cried because an ending was perfect.

the undiscovered country by indigostohelit

hamlet, 56k, pub 2014, Hamlet/Horatio

What else can I say about this fic. What else can I Fucking say.

(note: we discuss this fic at length during episode 5) 

All Things Shining by Askance and standbyme

spn, 142k, pub 2013, Dean/Castiel & Sam/ofc

A story about miracles. Literary as hell, with long luxuriant scenes that never drag. Masterful characterization. The thing I wanted from spn fic—connection, plot, and a fic that not only can handle the lore of the show, but is willing to expand upon it.

Who Painted the Moon Black by throughthedark

1d, 95k, pub 2013, Louis/Harry

Hunger games crossover. Doesn’t just use the other fandom for setting, but entirely inhabits it. I had to stop partway through my reread because I knew I’d have nightmares, but this fic never stops hoping. Trauma is not an ending. This fic is certain of that the whole way through.

Reid’s Choices: 

Honorable Mentions: 

songs from the ash, by explosivesky, 2017

Critical Role, Percy/Vex, Keyleth/Vax, 54k, WIP (sort of)

rockstar/movie star AU 

A fantastic example of how fic can just standalone as really good original fiction. A lovingly rendered, devastating and beautifully crafted portrait of four broken people doing their best to navigate through their lives and around one another. 

delta, by sharpa, 2019

BTS, rapline ot3, 60k

What happens when you’re a public figure who gets unwillingly outed, and two people you used to love reach out to offer you sanctuary? You make Reid cry, that’s what. 

Top 5 picks: 

Salt on the Western Wind by Saras_Girl, 2013

Harry Potter, drarry, 60k

Immediately post war, bond

It represents a lot of what I was looking for when I started really getting into Drarry fic, which was an exploration of what canon wouldn’t give me. My favorite Drarry fics have always been the ones that let them dig into their shared trauma, and while this fic isn’t the heaviest one I’ve read, I think the fact that it’s set literally hours after the Battle of Hogwarts ends lends itself well to that concept. I couldn’t have a list of the decade without a Drarry fic, tbh.

The Great Sealand Takeover, by whalehuntingboyfriends, 2015

Roosterteeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, ot6 (gavin, michael, ray, geoff, ryan, jack), 365k

FAHC

When I think about fics that set the standard for a fandom, this is one of the first ones that comes to mind. This fic means a lot to me because it was my introduction to RPF, and in addition to its intricate plot and fandom-constructed lore, also was a take on poly relationships and found families in a way I had never experienced before, with themes of belonging and a love that transcends typical convention.

The Twice-Told Tale by arysteia, 2012

Marvel, steve/tony, 15k

This fic hits a sweet spot for me where it does have some of that 2012 tower-fic nostalgia, but I also think it holds up well in terms of what I (and fandom) find so fascinating about Tony, which is all this grief and trauma that he struggles so hard to process, and the way puts himself at the center of attention to obfuscate the fact that he keeps everyone at a long arm’s length.

There Was an Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe, by Shoshanah-ben-hohim, 2015

Hockey, Sid/Geno, Canon Divergent, 77k

& the whole series, including There is a Field, I’ll Meet You There, Alex Galchenyuk/Olli Maata, 131k

When I think about this fic I want to scream from every rooftop I’ve ever been on “please read this fic”. The way it weaves together details to provide a level of grounding and realism in what sounds like the most absurd concept for a fic just floors me. The empathy and compassion and fear in this fic just gets at the most tender parts of my heart, and the fact that it’s ostensibly a ship fic, and yet Sid and Geno spend nearly the entire fic with no communication, but instead are just holding on to the innate truth that they know about one another to get them through this crazy endeavour they’re on elevates the entire fic for me.

what comes after, by poppyseedheart, 2018

Roosterteeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, mavinseg (gavin, meg, michael, lindsay), 36k

Dystopia/Spy AU

When I first read this fic, I finished it and I put it down and then I spent a few days feeling like I was just sort of wandering around in a haze because every single thought was consumed by this fic. In addition to its impeccable worldbuilding and the tone work that it does with its setting, I don’t know that I had ever resonated so deeply with fic characters before. Reading this felt like someone had pried my ribcage open one by one and revealed the softest, most tender parts of me and then went “I’m going to write something that targets this.” This fic is an ode to loss and love, to mourning something that you once had and then hesitantly and clumsily opening yourself up to building something new, and recognizing that, impossibly, that new thing you built can somehow be better than what you had before. 

And I felt all of these things, I felt like my world had just been shattered by this new author I discovered… and then, somehow, I became her friend. Then through Nic I met Brenna, and now when I think about this fic I not only love it for being a work of art, but also for being representative of the thing that brought me to two of the most important people in my life, and that to me will always make it my favorite fic I’ve ever read.

#fic clique #fic recs #multifandom #minisode #fics of the decade

[gladiatortale]

Baz Pitch Songs - Ben Platt

TL;DR: Baz’s anxious internal monologue lives in the lyrics of Ben Platt’s album, Sing to Me Instead.

I’ve been breaking my own heart for days now with this information and I need to share it with the WORLD. 

Okay so I am still an overflowing well of FEELINGS after reading Wayward Son, and in the wake of this I come to the conclusion that there is no better encapsulating soundtrack for the mood of this book than Sing to Me Instead. 

The entire album is a goldmine of angst and adult-ulescent zeitgeist (that shitty late teen/ early twenties age where nothing makes sense and there is no road map for anything). But I’m going focus on two song’s in particular that are so unbelievably Wayward Son Baz, that they smell like fucking cedar and bergamot. OKAY.

Song 1: Grow as We Go

Something I needed to continually remind myself as I was reading Wayward Son is that Baz doesn't actually know that Simon is thinking of breaking up with him. Nevertheless Baz’s pain, confusion, and ongoing identity crises - built out of months of stewing silently in between the first and second book - comes through in every single one of his actions. This is especially true in the book’s early chapters. 

To anyone who has been with a partner suffering from depression, the scenes in the flat and at the airport ring through as painfully familiar,

“He’s lovely. A bit of a sad mess. Dull and pale and rough around the edges. But still so lovely.” (Wayward Son, Chapter 9)

Baz loves Simon so much that it hurts him to even think of not being with him. And yet despite not actually knowing Simon’s intentions before Penny slammed a door on his face, (lol) Baz’s anxiety grows from a true fear of losing him; whether that’s losing him to someone else or to depression, the fear remains the same.

ENTER BEN PLATT.

The opening lyrics of Grow as We Go sound like they were written by Baz himself in a letter to Simon,

“You say there's so much you don't know You need to go and find yourself You say you'd rather be alone 'Cause you think you won't find it tied to someone else.” (Grow As We Go, Ben Platt)

(Knowing British people as I do, it’s a bit too much sharing all at once to be something Baz would say all at one time, but I’m getting off topic). These lines encapsulate the bleeding heart bargaining Baz feels as he worries Simon is slipping away from him, while at the same time focuses on the fact that Baz still feels they are destined to be together after everything they’ve survived so far. 

“Ooh, who said it's true That the growing only happens on your own? They don't know me and you.” (Grow As We Go, Ben Platt)

Baz would say to the rest of the world, even to Simon himself, that they make each other better by being together.

“I don't know who we'll become I can't promise it's not written in the stars But I believe that when it's done  We're gonna see that it was better That we grew up together” (Grow As We Go, Ben Platt)

There’s SO FUCKING MUCH to unpack so I’ll keep in brief. This entire passage links back to motifs from Carry On. 

Beginning with the star motif (which I could and MIGHT write a whole separate essay about); Stars have been known to appear during incredibly vulnerable, shifting moments in Simon and Baz’s relationship. We first see the motif when Simon shares his magic with in Carry On, and the motif reappears more with a more cautious, anxious tone in the back of Shepard’s truck withWayward Son. Which is why when it so poetically appears in this verse, it feels like the perfect match to Baz’s tone.

However, the real gut punch of this song comes when we examine this line from Chapter 11, in conjunction with the aforementioned section of the song,

“‘They’re not that far apart,’ I say. ‘Not to you; you grew up in a mansion.’ ‘I grew up at the top of a tower,’ I say. ‘With you’.” (Wayward Son, Chapter 11)

The final line of this section of the lyrics are SO important because they connect to these specific lines from Wayward Son painfully well. They encapsulate Baz’s wish to grow old (as much as he can… ohhh WE’RE GETTING THERE), more specifically to continue to grow old with Simon. Together these passages highlight that, despite Simon’s gradual attempts to pull away from Baz (ironically due to what Simon perceives as kindness), Baz still has faith enough in the strength of their relationship to try and keep them together.

In essence, go listen to the song. It’ll smash your heart into a million pieces, but you’ll still thank me for recommending it.

Song 2: In Case You Don't Live Forever

AAAAAAAAAAAAH. OKAY. 

Here’s where shit reeeeally hits the fan. I’m going to get the obvious out of the way right now. 

For the first time in the series, we see Baz actually confront the reality of his immortality in Wayward Son. I know there is still a question mark hanging above this statement because Baz is an semi-unreliable narrator and we only can know what he does, but his conversations with Lamb brings to light the true reality of his condition: Baz can, in theory, live forever. What is also frighteningly true - and a fact which Rowell herself hasn’t even fully articulated yet - is the fact that Simon, as far as we know, won’t live forever.

CUE BEN PLATT AND HIS SAD PIANO MUSIC.

“You put all your faith in my dreams You gave me the world that I wanted What did I do to deserve you?” (In Case You Don’t Live Forever, Ben Platt)

This self-depreciative, I-dont-deserve-anything tone is PAINFULLY in line with Baz’s own internal monologue. Throughout the majority of Carry On (as well as the just under a decade which preceded the events of the book) Baz have lived convinced that Simon is going to kill him one day. When that inevitably DOESN'T happen and they end up together, Baz cannot believe his luck.

“I've waited way too long to say Everything you mean to me” (In Case You Don’t Live Forever, Ben Platt)

AND DESPITE HIS PERCVIED SPECTACULAR LUCK, this FUCKING numpty waits until the LITERAL second to last page of the SECOND book to say how he really feels,

“I raise my voice: ‘Why cant you see that I wouldn’t be happy anywhere without you?’ He sits back, like I’ve slapped him.” (Wayward Son, p. 353)

This ties in beautifully with - so much so I was screaming at my desktop as I listened to it - the second verse of In Case You Don't Live Forever,

“I, I've carried this song in my mind Listen, it's echoing in me But I haven't helped you to hear it We, we've only got so much time I'm pretty sure it would kill me If you didn't know the pieces of me are pieces of you” (In Case You Don’t Live Forever, Ben Platt)

Baz’s hesitation, whether born culturally out of a stubborn British habit not to share your emotions for fear of oversharing, or hesitation specific to his relationship with Simon, has kept him from speaking his mind. It has kept him from speaking about how deeply his life has been changed by Simon, and how fleeting and short their time together truly is.

WHAT MIGHT PROMPT BAZ TO SAY SOMETHING LIKE THIS?? Perhaps the realization that Simon won’t live forever, that he has to say these things to him In Case You Don't Live Forever.

MIC DROP. 

Aaaaaand cue the saddest line of the song, please...

“In case you don't live forever, let me tell you now I love you more than you'll ever wrap your head around In case you don't live forever, let me tell you the truth I'm everything that I am because of you” (In Case You Don’t Live Forever, Ben Platt)

The absolutely heart wrenching scene (“Simon… love… get up. We still have to save Agatha.” NOPE. Still not over it!) as they fight The Next Blood in the dead spot, when considered together with Lamb’s words from earlier in the novel, is truly the moment when Baz realises he will lose Simon someday.

In this way therefore the song connects Baz’s internal monologue as it looks forward toward the events of Anyway the Wind Blows. 

Now. I would not DARE try to put words in Rowell’s mouth, but when viewed holistically with Baz’s final actions in Wayward Son (his realization of the temporality of Simon’s life against the length of his own, and his brash declaration that his life is hardly worth living without Simon in it) Platt’s song sets to music the logical trajectory of Baz’s emotional state and desires in a way I sincerely hope we see in this next and final novel.

THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK.

BONUS:

THESE LINES FUCKED ME SO MUCH I CAN’T EVEN B E G I N TO UNPACK HOW MUCH THIS IS JUST THEIR RELATIONSHIP AND THE WAY BAZ SEES SIMON.

“I have a hero whenever I need one I just look up to you and I see one I'm a man 'cause you taught me to be one.” (In Case You Don’t Live Forever, Ben Platt)

GGGGGAAAAAAH  I’M DONE BEING ANALYTICAL. THAT LINE JUST FINISHED ME OFF. 

#wayward son #snowbaz #ben platt #baz pitch #rainbow rowell #carry on #simon snow #IM BREAKING MY OWN HEART AND DRAGGING YALL DOWN WITH ME

[themarketismychurch]

Response to Westside Whole Food Movement - 2010

In 2009, there was an uproar about a whole food co-op in Venice entitled “Rawsome”, the local Weston A. Price group, and the original owner of Healthy Family farms. Rawsome had been shut down by the city for health issues, the owner of HHF was being called out for possible ethical breaches (and attacked for personal past events), and Weston A. Price’s influence on local food politics. I was then managing SoCal farmers market raw dairy sales for Organic Pasture Dairy and was deeply involved in the raw milk movement in California. The events that were happening at this time were souring me (pun intended) on the whole local organic and raw food scene as I saw that the infighting taking more precedent than the politics of whole and raw food itself. This is one of my first responses on David Gumpert’s blog, “The Complete Patient”

Living in Hollywood one becomes good at seeing the Wizard of Oz and who is actually behind the curtains. This is the land of projection. 

The whole food scene here and especially on the Westside is schizophrenic at best. Working at the markets and especially with a product that is a hot-button issue, I am pretty much at ground zero and because of my nature either information comes to me asked/unasked or I am caught in the crossfire. 

There is a great deal of backstabbling, greed, machiavellian posturing, paranoia, and "tiger" mom's becoming totalitarian for "the good of the community." Many who are producing "whole foods" are producing a mediocre product at best yet are the loudest to scream against the powers that be. The fight seems to be more important than improving the quality of their product. I have been a part of all of these. 

Because of this I am wary when people in this movement talk about "unity." In this movement, I know of farms heavy handing co-ops to get them to sell their product. I personally have sent many people to co-ops knowing that they had products that that we didn't have and yet constantly be bad-mouthed in return by the owners and members of these co-ops. I know of farms who have become corporate and who have begun to resort to the California way of "hiring cheap and have them do more." Of "mom and pop" operations who are vicious with anyone who they consider competition and actively lobbying to keep competition out of the markets. Of farms and individuals who cut as many corners as the can in relationship to county or city codes obstensibly for libertarian reasons yet more likely to increase their "bottom line" 

And this "movement" unites against an "enemy?" 

If this movement continues to be adrenalin-fueled and war-based then it will just be pissing in the wind. War has become obsolete except for those who want to play it, use it for marketing and establishing their brand. Give a "romantic" an actual solution and they will refuse it as that which they are romantic about will cease to exist. They would rather it remain "in perpetuity" And how much of these raids been brought on by those who operate these dairy's, co-op's and buyers clubs themselves? By being contrary for the sake of being contrary. Sorry, a lot of James' clientle are out-and-out nutcases. People can be who they are. Yet just because I do not worship chem-trails, gold standard, upcoming-armeggedon, Zeitgeist, David Icke, pick your politician nor have the appropriate hatred towards towards the imaginary Illuminati, Bilderberger, fill in your global conspiracy group, I am held with some sort of contempt to where it has come to I have to go in, get my product and get the hell out. Circular logic is the name of the game here so when something like this happens their well-argued case in their heads is proven. And then I am called to stand up for them in the name of "freedom" and "unity?" 

I was Madonna's first yoga teacher. I soon left as I did not care to be a part of the entourage. I then had regrets as to whether I had given up something that literally would give a lot of press and cache. I spoke with a good friend and successful movie producer about this. Her reply was, "Most people in this industry see her as a fanatic. If you are associated with her, you will be seen as one also" There are a lot of good people who post well-thought out, interesting and informative things on this site. I also appreciate the work David has done. And it has become more and more an issue to sift through the continual, hyper-vigilant call to arms that is constantly here. If one is in a constant state of vigilance, then that person doesn't know what is truly threatening. And in this case, more and more, it seems like the "movement" itself. 

We have met the enemy....and they are us! 

Lastly, I am sure some of you will post saying, If you don't like it then stay away from the site" And that is the point. Staying away. It shouldn't be that way. Not for me. And not for others who want to stay current with what is going on. 

I support Sharon as I see her as a woman establishing a business, standing on her own and learning how to negotiate the system openly. 

I support Victoria as she is a friend who has been supportive, open, intelligent and kind in my presence. She has also answered me clearly when I had questions about HFF. 

I do not care to deify either.

#wholefoods #raw milk #weston a. price #food politics

[lavenderprose]

Here’s the beginning of a fic I’ve been sitting on for a few months?? Hopefully getting a little feedback will jumpstart my stupid lizard brain into doing something

--

On a blustery morning in mid-September, a dog shows up on Yuuri’s front porch.

Yuuri, who’s in a bit of a hurry to get to town because he promised Phichit that he would help at the shop today, is struck momentarily motionless at the sight of a large silver-beige poodle sitting on his front porch, grinning up a storm and panting large plooms of condensation into the chilly morning air.

When his limbs recall their functions after several long beats, Yuuri steps down off the doorway ledge and onto the porch, cautious even though the dog looks like nothing would please them more than Yuuri coming closer. He glances up and down the road, looking for an owner. Yuuri’s house is set back about a hundred yards from the road, but he can still see it through the branches of the trees. There is nothing and nobody on the road. It’s just Yuuri and a poodle, alone in the cold air and odd stillness of a northern Michigan autumn morning.

Until Vicchan nudges up against the back of Yuuri’s legs and sets to whining, either at the sight of the other dog or at the fact that Yuuri is blocking his access to the yard.

“Shush,” he says to Vicchan, who subsides. He turns back to the other dog, still panting and still regarding Yuuri with large, friendly black eyes. Yuuri steps a little closer.

“Hi, puppy,” he says, kneeling slowly down to eye-level with the poodle. “Who’re you?” The dog lunges forward to try and lick Yuuri’s face; Yuuri laughs and fends him off, gets hold of his collar and reads the tags. Vicchan steps onto the porch and busily sets about sniffing the other dog’s butt.

“Makkachin, huh?” he says, turning the simple bone-shaped nametag in his hands. The reverse side of the tag gives an address, which is only one number off from Yuuri’s on the same road. Yuuri, who had sort of anticipated the dog belonging to a neighbor, isn’t surprised. He pats Makkachin’s head and then, because the name doesn’t really indicate a gender, at least not one that Yuuri can discern, he takes a glance underneath the dog. Makkachin stays still for the indignity, and Vicchan prances back and forth through the open door, unsure what to do with himself.

Makkachin, it turns out, is a girl.

“Alright, let’s get you back home.” Yuuri stands up and clicks his tongue, mostly to attract the attention of Vicchan. He comes barreling back out onto the porch, and Yuuri closes and locks the door. Vicchan rampages towards the car, barking his joy. Makkachin stays put and gazes up at Yuuri, tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. Yuuri, who’s noticing now the amount of gray that Makkachin has on her muzzle, takes a step towards the porch steps and pats his leg. With that visual cue, Makkachin hops to it, following along behind Yuuri and Vicchan down the driveway.

Yuuri’s car is a pickup, which is one of only a few types of cars that one can drive with any sense of security through northern Michigan winters. Yuuri spent one awful, terrifying winter after college driving his ’05 Toyota Corolla through foot-high snowdrifts, white knuckling the steering wheel the whole way. In March of that year, he got on the internet and googled best cars for snow, clicked the first result, and went and bought himself a black standard cab pickup. It’s not the kind of car he ever really saw himself driving, and he thinks it might lean a little too far into the whole rural archetype, but he supposes that archetypes become archetypes for a reason—the image of a pickup truck driving down a country road has been in the cultural zeitgeist for practically as long as there have been cars.

Although Yuuri anticipates that Makkachin might need help getting up into the cab, she only really has trouble clamoring into the back to sit on the jumpseat with Vicchan, and she manages it even with Yuuri telling her that she doesn’t need to sit in the back. Once both dogs are settled, Yuuri hops in and turns on the car, backing out along the driveway.

Yuuri’s property doesn’t extend very far, but his neighbor’s property is big enough that the drive up to their front door takes about five minutes. Makkachin is looking out the window and, although she must recognize all of the landmarks they’re passing, doesn’t kick up a fuss.

The house of Makkachin’s owner is relatively large, but only in that it has a slightly bigger footprint than Yuuri’s, coupled with what appears to be a half second floor. It’s nowhere near as extravagant as the McMansions that dot this same road closer to town, where they can be hooked up to the city water and it isn’t a half-hour drive to anywhere worth being. It’s a nice house, though, and might have some history behind it—it has a look of a house that probably wasn’t built this century. The land surrounding the house is well-kept. Further back, the property fades into woods, but you’d be hard pressed to find someone who didn’t have at least some woodland on their property out this way, unless that person was a farmer.

There are two other cars parked in the driveway—a pickup and a jeep that Yuuri (with his only tangential knowledge of cars which are not the car he currently owns) thinks is a Wrangler. The jeep is a common choice in this area, mostly because it’s essentially a street-legal tank, so Yuuri isn’t surprised to see it. The pickup truck is old though—like, seventies or eighties old, and it’s a strange creamy salmon color that Yuuri has never seen before.

It might be, Yuuri thinks, one of those cars that people buy their sixteen-year-olds to learn to drive in, unafraid to see it damaged since they only spent 700 dollars buying it. It could, on the other hand, be someone’s prized antique. It’s hard to tell in this area.

Yuuri dismounts from the car and pats the seat for Makkachin. She comes clamoring out, and Yuuri does help her this time—mostly because he doesn’t want her trying to jump down herself, old as she might be. Vicchan tries to sneak out after her, but Yuuri presses him back into the car.

“You’ll get to run around all day at the shop,” Yuuri tells him, when his ears droop. “Be good.”

Vicchan settles back onto the seat so that Yuuri can close the door, but Yuuri sees his little head pop up over the steering wheel a moment later. Yuuri laughs, seeing it.

The front door opens almost immediately after Yuuri knocks, disorientating him slightly. The man standing in front of Yuuri looks like he’s just about to head out the door as well—he’s wearing a gray parka and black scarf, knit hat pulled down over what looks to be platinum hair, and thick leather gloves on his hands. He and Yuuri, surprised to see each other, blink and say nothing for a moment.

“Is that my dog?” says Makkachin’s owner at last, having seen Makkachin lurking behind Yuuri’s knees.

“Um, yes.” Yuuri glances back at Makkachin, who snorts happily at her owner and trots into the house, blissfully dismissive of the two men still on the porch, who now have to slog through social niceties. Yuuri doesn’t necessarily think that Makkachin’s owner will be difficult to deal with—but he is, Yuuri can’t help but notice, deeply attractive, so it’ll probably be fun for Yuuri’s seven AM brain to deal with that.

“How did she get out?” Makkachin’s owner follows hers fluffy retreating butt with a bewildered gaze. “I just—she’s only been out of the house for twenty minutes. How far did she get?”

“She was on my front porch,” Yuuri says, pointing in the direction he lives. “I live down the road about a mile. Our properties adjoin.”

“She’s not supposed to—” Makkachin’s owner sighs, shakes his head and switches his gaze from Makkachin’s retreat into the house to Yuuri, who he smiles at. “I’m sorry. She’s trained not to leave the property line, so I just let her wander most mornings. She’s getting old, though, so maybe she just…got lost.”

“It’s no problem,” Yuuri says, shaking his head. “She’s a sweetheart.”

Makkachin’s owner smiles as though Yuuri has just complimented him, and not his dog. “She really is! I’m Viktor, by the way. Probably rude of me that I’ve never introduced myself, seeing as we’re neighbors.”

Viktor has a very slight accent that becomes more prominent the longer Yuuri hears him talk. He at first thinks it might be Scottish, but eventually his ear adjusts and he realizes it’s something Slavic. It’s a melodic baritone voice and the inflection that he uses is Pure Michigan. First generation in America, maybe, or naturalized as a child as Yuuri himself was. Yuuri realizes he’s been musing on all of this, instead of responding to what Viktor’s actually said, when that welcoming smile slips into confusion.

“It’s fine!” Yuuri rushes to assure, shaking his hands. “It’s just—I don’t really know any? Of my neighbors? I just—there’s so much distance between—I think people are happier just—y’know, not?”

“Right, of course.” Viktor nods, smile still benevolent, but a little more shut off. “Yeah, I guess…people move out here to be…away.”

“Right.” Yuuri clears his throat, hands slipping into pockets. “Yeah, that’s—” It’s definitely why Yuuri moved here, although he’s trying desperately not to anxiously overshare with this man whose only relationship to him is a lost dog. He chooses not to mention it, for obvious reasons. “That’s right.”

There is a staircase visible behind Viktor’s back, down which a blond-haired youth now stomps. He isn’t initially looking at the door, only at Viktor’s back, and when he reaches the floor says, “Viktor, what are you doing—” then sees Yuuri.

“Yuri!” Viktor says, and Yuuri wonders how Viktor knows his name without him ever saying it, before he realizes that the blond is also Yuri. “This man found Makkachin!”

“Makkachin was missing?” Yuri asks, dripping teenaged ambivalence. He looks at Yuuri, his face contracts into something unpleasant, and he barks, “Thanks I guess!” before sweeping away, to parts of the house unseen.

“He’s shy,” Viktor says, watching him go, then turns back to Yuuri.

“His name is Yuri?”

“Yes, although he usually goes by Yura.” Viktor’s eyes widen at the end of that statement, and he’s quick to assure, “He’s my brother, not my son. I’m not old enough to have a sixteen-year-old.”

“Oh, no, yeah, I can tell. I was just asking because that’s—Yuuri, that’s my name.” He clears his throat, feeling awkward. “The Japanese one, not the—uh—Ukrain..ian…?”

“Russian.”

“Right, Russian. It’s not the Russian spelling. Um…” He clears his throat, glances back towards his car. “I’m gonna—go.”

Viktor smiles again. “Sure. Have a nice day! Thanks for bringing Makkachin back.”

Yuuri, inexplicably, gives Viktor a thumbs up, and stumbles backwards off the porch into a rose bush.

By the time he climbs back into the car, his face is red and his jeans are torn.

“We can never come back here,” he tells Vicchan, as he rapidly reverses out of Viktor-Makkachin’s-Owner’s driveway.

Vicchan wuffs at him balefully from under his own ears.

(“What happened to you?” Phichit demands from behind the ice cream counter, when Yuuri rolls into the shop toting Vicchan, half an hour late and still showing evidence of his mauling by rose bush.

“A very attractive man’s very cute dog was on my porch this morning,” says Yuuri, depositing Vicchan in his dog bed (<3 VICCHAN <3 on the side because Phichit spoils him) and grabbing an apron off the peg behind the counter.

“Oh Yuuri,” says Phichit in a pitying tone. “Oh honey. Oh no.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” says Yuuri, miserably, and conks his head onto a cooling table, where it stays until a customer comes in and, tentatively, asks Phichit if the guy over by the fudge is, uh, ok?)

#Maggie's Fic #Victuuri #YOI #Viktor Nikiforov #Yuuri Katsuki

[woffordswords]

Thoughts on Mr. and Mrs. Smith (1941, Dir. Alfred Hitchcock)

Boy, this is a film I would like to know more about. What if I told you that as one of his later British films, Hitchcock made a straight-up screwball romantic comedy with no crime-thriller elements to speak of? Even more ironic is that when the film was remade over 60 years later with Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, the crime-thriller elements that were never there in the first place found their way into the film. Strange stuff.

Hitchcock’s film is about a married couple who living in New York who learns that because of a clerical error, they aren’t actually legally married. After an Initial bit of farce, based on the premise that Mrs. Smith knows about the status of their marriage and is waiting for Mr. Smith to propose, who also knows, but doesn’t know that she knows, culminates in her confronting him and kicking him out of their shared apartment, the movie descends into a cat and mouse chase with Mr. Smith desperate to win her back while Mrs. Smith attempts to move on with her life. Despite her vitriolic treatment of her would-be husband-again, notably her attempt in the films second half to marry Marry Mr. Smith’s all too willing law partner Jefferson, Mrs. Smith is drawn to the passionate intensity of her clashes with David. Their marriage, as Hitchcock demonstrate for us in the film’s introduction, has always been characterized by passionate conflict between the two parties. However, the key point of characterization here is that the two never seek to avoid the conflict between them and instead seek to actively embrace it. Their take on the classic maxim of never going to bed angry with each other in a relationship, which they extend to never leaving the bedroom when they are in a fight (something we are informed has lasted 8 days in a row in the past) is the film’s prime example of this.

Within the contemporary cultural zeitgeist, this understanding of love and its connection to passionate intensity is different from the typical emphasis on carnal lust that epitomizes passion in romance. However, animated conflicts between the two lovers are something that is at the center of many of the screwball comedies of this era. This film is certainly reminiscent of His Girl Friday which also features a love triangle involving an honorable but “cold” suitor on the one hand, and conniving, manipulative, but ultimately more desirable man on the other. The male lead’s persistence and willingness to engage in shameless schemes are here validated as markers of compassion. However, these films are also intent on demonstrating that this is also a matter of compatibility, with the leading ladies themselves shown to be at times vindictive and petty. Interestingly, we’re presented with 2 characters who become more and more generally unlikable throughout the film in terms of their treatment of others. However, these qualities end up becoming the sign of their compatibility with each other. They also are signs of something like a more genuine or relatable romance, with the characters flaws and imperfections being highlighted above their desirability. Rather than the idea that it was meant to be, this film gives us the sense that these two characters by and large deserve each other. They bring chaos and disorder to the world around them and the only justifiable solution is that they inflict this chaos primarily on each other, rather than on less deserving third-parties. 

This depiction of marriage as characterized by strife and instability is an important one that flies in the face of ideas of marriage as a stable and practical institution. Furthermore, it suggests that it may be marriage itself that causes people to act in this manner. We do not know the degree to which these characters were like “this” prior to their marriage. In fact, it is intimated, especially for David, that marriage has substantially changed him. The film repeatedly suggests that married life has made them “used to” not only each other, but to this kind of dramatic and unsettled existence, and that after having had it, they cannot do without it. I would extrapolate from this point the idea that marriage can be thought of, not as inevitable conclusion of a loving relationship, not as something worthy of a couple of people in love, but something that a couple in love must prove that they are worthy of. Marriage, in this film, is thus a kind of a challenge, a test that we pass or fail based on our worthiness of “it” and our ability to adapt to and embrace the affective intensities it brings about in us. Certainly relevant in the context of Stanley Cavell’s genre of “Hollywood Comedies of Re-Marriage” and William Rothman’s readings of Hitchcock films through this lens, this film actually fits quite nicely into Hitchcock’s oeuvre, despite the lack of anything resembling a crime thriller, in terms of how love and marriage are presented in his other films.

Other stray observations worth mentioning: 

There’s a great sequence at a run down italian restaurant in the city involving the choice of a $0.45 or $0.65 cent dinner and a cat who, despite Mr. Smith’s best efforts, simply won't eat from his soup. There’s also an interesting angle to the film with David’s partner and rival Jefferson being an honorable southern gentlemen with the south standing in for tradition and the north for modernity. The conclusion at Lake Placid also mirrors some of Cavell’s observations about other comedies of remariage beginning in the city and ending up in Connecticut.

There’s also an interesting strain of gendered thinking about the role of deceit and performance that I won’t dive into deeply but is worth mentioning. The conflict in the film revolves around two distinct forms of deceit and performance. Mr. Smith attempts to deceive others and thus performs for them. Mrs. Smith, by contrast, attempts to deceive herself and her performances are for her own benefit rather than for anyone else's. These inverted forms of deception, when put into contact, form a cycle that perpetuates itself and spurs greater and greater excesses. That Mrs. Smith knows that she belongs with her Mister and vehemently denies it until the last could be seen as evidence of the kind of sexist attitudes which insist that women don’t actually know what they want while men are possessed of this clarity and thus face the burden asserting their desires for the benefit of all involved. However, seen through another lens, Mrs. Smith’s outward self-deceit is necessary for the entire system to function. It is not that she doesn’t know what she wants, but that she knows that what she wants is not to want it. Only by not wanting David does she provide the catalyst for their relationship, something that when left to David via her question early in the film about whether or not he would do things differently, he meets with apathy. This is a different kind of sexist view where women are instigators of passions in men, although, again, not in the sense of the instigation of lust, as is typically at stake in discussions about women not knowing what they want and playing hard to get. We could argue that Hitchcock’s film is one giant allegory for this lustful dimension of relations between men and women, or we could argue instead that performative intercourse, rather than sexual intercourse, is at the center of romantic relationships between men and women for Hitchcock. Regardless, that Mrs. Smith knows, rather than doesn't know, what her husband is like and what is necessary for love and passion should be, I think, the preferred reading of this dynamic. She is testing her husband, so to speak, even if for the test to work, she must believe that she wants him to fail. In this sense, Mrs. Smith is the judge and the one with the greater agency. She is the one who gets to decide when the “game,” so to speak, is afoot, as well as when the conditions necessary to prove his worthiness have been satisfied. This casts her in a role where her loyalty to marriage as an institution goes beyond her loyalty to her husband. By convincing herself (or attempting to convince herself) that “their” marriage is over, she creates and maintains the spark that allows marriage, in its ideal state (as it is imagined in this film), to continue to be. Thus, her pulling away and his drawing closer becomes the cycle of give and take that characterizes the film and Hitchcock’s gendered ideas about love more generally. 

I would also point out that Mr. Smith ends up in this whole situation based on his desire to pretend that his wife is his misstress. He acknowledge as much when he changes her name in his address book from miss to misstress. This is thus another way that the man is shown to be ambivalent about marriage as an institution and Mrs. Smith, the woman, is shown to be the defender and guarantor of the powerful and chaotic state of being that is proper to marriage in this film.

[acsversace-news]

For months during the filming of American Crime Story, Ricky Martin found himself back in the closet—this time playing Antonio D’Amico, the longtime lover of the late Gianni Versace. In the pilot episode of the FX series, a detective with the Miami Police Department interrogates D’Amico after the designer is murdered. Unsure what D’Amico means when he refers to Versace as his “partner,” he questions the nature of their relationship, invoking the young men D’Amico would procure for him, some of them duly compensated, and asking, “Did he pay you?”

“To love him?” responds D’Amico, still covered in the blood of his boyfriend of 15 years, though he seems more wounded by the detective’s callous assertion—the idea that two men could ever be in a committed relationship is completely foreign to him. Yet the moment illustrates one of the overarching themes of the second installment of American Crime Story, based on Maureen Orth’s 1999 book Vulgar Favors, and adapted by British author Tom Rob Smith. Just as The People v. OJ Simpson before it offered an all-too-timely commentary on racism, The Assassination of Gianni Versace promises to tackle issues like homophobia, gun violence, and the dark allure of fame.

“I believe that the story of injustice this series will bring to the table will spark a lot of conversations about things that we, as the LGBTQ community, were dealing with in the ’90s, and that we’re still dealing with,” says Martin, though he shies away from revealing too many details about The Assassination. “At this point in our lives, there shouldn’t be stigmas over the things that we are going to be talking about.”

The show, another jewel in showrunner and creator Ryan Murphy’s television crown, will examine the lives of two gay men and their radically different paths: Gianni Versace (played by Édgar Ramirez)—the Italian designer who injected the world of fashion with a wild dose of ostentation, sensuality, and celebrity glamour—and Andrew Cunanan (Glee's Darren Criss), the 27-year-old Versace fanboy who left a trail of death and devastation in his quest for fame, ultimately finding it, and landing on the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted list, by murdering the man he so idolized.

Cunanan was born in National City, Calif., on August 31, 1969, to a mostly absent, class-conscious Filipino-American father and a deeply religious Italian-American mother. He was a brilliant child with a reported IQ of 147. Growing up in a strict Catholic household, he struggled with his sexuality from a young age, so that later in life he was open to some, but closeted to others. He also had a reputation for being a pathological liar. After dropping out of the University of California, San Diego, he tried his hand at hustling, drug dealing, and petty robbery—anything to avoid a traditional nine-to-five. He charmed his way into a meeting with Versace on the evening of October 21, 1990, in San Francisco. Versace had designed the costumes for Richard Strauss’s opera Capriccio and was in town for the premiere. It was a brief encounter—Orth dedicates just three pages to it in Vulgar Favors—but for Cunanan, it was significant. Versace was the only celebrity he claimed to know with whom he had any ties, no matter how tenuous. According to Orth, when the FBI asked Philip Merrill, a friend of Cunanan’s, where the wanted murderer would go and whom he would try to contact, Merrill said: Florida and Versace.

By the time Cunanan gunned down the 50-year-old designer on the steps of his palatial estate, Casa Casuarina at 1116 Ocean Drive in South Beach, Miami, on the morning of July 15, 1997, he had already killed four men, including Jeff Trail, a 28-year-old Navy veteran, and David Madson, a 33-year-old architect, three months earlier in Minneapolis—both men were gay and at least one of them, Madson, was a former lover. But the nation didn’t take any real notice until Cunanan had traversed thousands of miles over several months. By then, Versace was dead.

“The whole city of Miami was in shock and never recovered,” says Martin, who was living in Miami but touring Europe at the time of Versace’s death. “Obviously what was happening in fashion was massive, but there was also what was happening in the film industry, with all these great actors moving to Miami because it was the Riviera of the United States. After Versace’s death, everything stuck because everybody was afraid. It has taken many, many, many years for Miami to return to where it was and maybe it will never be the same.”

On July 7, eight days before Versace’s murder, Cunanan visited the Cash on the Beach pawn shop to sell a gold coin he had stolen from his third victim, Lee Miglin, a 72-year-old married real estate developer he had killed and tortured on May 4 in Chicago, which eventually led to the FBI adding Cunanan to its infamous fugitives list. As required by the pawn shop, the serial killer had signed his name—his real name—and had even given the address where he was staying. Vivian Olivia, the owner of Cash on the Beach, turned over the identifying paperwork to the Miami Police the following day, yet no action was taken. Meanwhile, the red pickup truck of William Reese, the 45-year-old caretaker Cunanan had murdered in Pennsville, N.J., just days after Miglin, sat in a parking garage for weeks. The FBI, insistent that Cunanan’s sexual orientation was irrelevant to their investigation, refused to distribute Most Wanted posters of Cunanan or to work with local gay organizations and publications.

“For a number of reasons, the authorities at the time never considered Cunanan to be a public threat because he was only killing homosexuals,” says Ramirez, the Venezuelan actor whose startling resemblance to the late designer helped secure him the title role in ACS. “The word assassination has a political and a social overtone because Versace was targeted. In a way, this was a tragedy that could have been prevented. Basically, homophobia killed Gianni Versace.”

Giovanni Maria Versace was born in Reggio Calabria, Italy, on December 2, 1946. The region’s Hellenic heritage—it had been part of Magna Graecia (Latin for “Great Greece”), the coastal areas of Southern Italy populated by Greek settlers—had a lasting influence on Versace and his work, most notably in the Medusa head and Greek keys of the label’s logo. His mother ran a dressmaking business, so fashion was a part of young Gianni’s DNA. He briefly went to work for his mother after graduating high school but fled the nest for Milan in 1972, bringing his formidable talents to the Italian ateliers Genny, Complice, and Callaghan. With his older brother Santo and younger sister Donatella, he launched his own company, and in 1978 debuted his first collection.

Throughout the ’80s and ’90s, Versace elevated sexy to an art form. As the adage, at times attributed to Anna Wintour, goes: Armani dressed the wife and Versace dressed the mistress. His looks were brash, bold, and sometimes delightfully tacky, rendered in luminescent metallics, sadomasochistic rubbers, and industrialized plastics that pushed the boundaries of fashion and “good taste.”  More than any other designer, before him or since, Versace permeated then all but defined the zeitgeist: from Elizabeth Hurley’s iconic safety-pin black dress (recently reappropriated by Lady Gaga), to Elizabeth Berkley’s doe-eyed infatuation with “Versayce” in 1995’s Showgirls, to rap group Migos’s 2013 breakthrough hit “Versace.”

Versace’s South Beach mansion was a monument to his grandeur, outfitted in Grecian opulence. Built in 1930 by trust-fund playboy and retired architect Alden Freeman, Casa Casuarina is now a hotel and popular tourist destination. Versace was enamored by the house’s Kneeling Aphrodite statue and bought the property for $2.95 million and the old Art Deco Hotel Revere next door for $3.7 million, which he promptly demolished, angering the Miami Design Preservation League—the neighborhood had been on the National Register of Historic Places since 1979. Versace invested an additional $32 million in renovations to realize his palace, decorating every inch with his exacting eye. In the opening minutes of The Assassination, Ramirez, in a resplendent pink robe, greets his army of servants with a measure of benevolence and unquestioned authority. The effect is that of an emperor surveying his mighty kingdom. From there, the series plays up the Greek-like tragedy of Versace’s life and death.

“His life was fated in a way,” says Ramirez. “There is something very classic about this real-life story that was captured by Tom: the characters, the archetypes, their relationships. You have Gianni as an emperor, and then you have his prince, Antonio, and you have his sister, Donatella, who is the empress-to-be. Sometimes there were scenes that really felt like we were doing theater, like Macbeth or Madea.”

Versace used his majestic property to entertain, and occasionally shelter, his circle of VIPs. In awe of the power of celebrity, he cultivated a loyal, glitzy following that included Princess Diana, Elton John, Madonna, Cher, and the supermodels he regularly employed, and in whose rise he was instrumental: Naomi, Cindy, Linda, Claudia. These famous clients and friends populated his front rows, appeared in his ad campaigns, and frequented his homes around the world. And his ambition wasn’t limited to the runway—Versace expanded his empire, designing costumes for operas, films, ballets, and concert tours.

“We basically live in the world that he created,” Ramirez says. “Before Gianni, glamour and sensuality were on two separate planes. Somehow he glamorized sexuality. He had a rock ’n’ roll approach to couture, and he essentially laid the ground for celebrity culture. From then on, for better and for worse, we’ve had this obsession with it. The sociopath who killed him was seduced by fame and by luxury.”

Versace was also one of the few openly gay celebrities of his day, having been with D’Amico, a former model, since 1982. Though, according to Martin, there was a limit to their openness.

“For many months in this series, I kind of went back into the closet,” the 46-year-old says. “They were not completely out. The fear of being seen holding hands in the streets is not an issue for me anymore, but I relived all of that, and it kinda set me back and gave me a lot of discomfort. But I was playing a part, and I used it. I used that anger and I used that frustration.”

The Assassination of Gianni Versace is the gayest thing FX or Ryan Murphy has ever done. And for anyone who’s seen Popular, or Glee, or the last few seasons of Nip/Tuck, or the musical number in American Horror Story: Asylum, that’s saying a lot. But it’s also a profound statement. Murphy, an openly gay showrunner and one of the most powerful and successful visionaries in Hollywood, has produced a series about an openly gay fashion designer (who was killed by a gay serial killer), featuring an openly gay pop star playing his boyfriend. Martin, who came out publicly in 2010, hadn’t even considered this level of out-and-proudness, but he’s acutely aware of how the show’s themes resonate in today’s terrifying political climate.

Ricky Martin has been in the public eye for the majority of his life—first in the popular boy band Menudo, which he parlayed into a successful music career in Latin America and a featured role on the long-running soap opera General Hospital. But it was a 1999 Grammy performance of “The Cup of Life,” the official song of the previous year’s World Cup, and the subsequent release of his U.S. breakthrough single, “Livin’ La Vida Loca,” that skyrocketed him to superstardom and ushered in the so-called “Latin explosion.”

With increased exposure, however, came increased scrutiny, and for years rumors regarding his sexual orientation persisted. Male pop stars have rarely been allowed to be openly gay, and those that were, like Elton John and George Michael, waited until relatively late in their careers to come out. For Martin, consequently, The Assassination of Gianni Versace offered a unique and personal challenge because, to paraphrase executive producer Brad Simpson, it’s about the politics of being out in the ’90s. Today, Martin is much more comfortable in his own skin. Not only is he in love (he’s been in a relationship with Syrian-Swedish painter Jwan Yosef since 2015), but he’s a father of two—and adamant that his family be an inspiration for other nontraditional families.

“A lot of people tell me, ‘Well, your kids are on the covers of magazines and blah, blah, blah,’ and I'm like, ‘Yes because I want to normalize this,’ ” he says. “I want people to look at me and see a family and say, ‘There’s nothing wrong with that.’ It's part of my mission. It’s part of my kids’ mission as well. My kids ask me about having two daddies and I tell them we are a part of a modern family. This is a beautiful sense of freedom.”

By taking on the role of Antonio D’Amico, the singer-actor had to conjure those years of hiding who he was, but in doing so he knew he was paying tribute to the love that Versace and D’Amico shared. Martin’s first day on set and his very first scene were also his most dramatic. “They didn't even let me warm up—I went straight into the murder,” he says. “I went straight into the moment where I find the body on the steps of the villa outside. It was a really long day. I was locked in this room for many hours just to be there in the moment when I looked out the window and saw Édgar’s feet. I went crazy and said, ‘Let’s shoot now! Please let’s shoot now!’ ”

After seeing production shots of Martin cradling a bloody Ramirez, D’Amico derided the tableau as “ridiculous” and a product of the “director’s poetic license.” In an interview with The Guardian last July, he also contradicted Martin’s assertion that he and Versace ever had to conceal their love. Martin then reached out to the 59-year-old D’Amico, whom he says was “incredibly generous” and “really honest.”

“The first thing I said to him was, ‘Antonio, I just want you to know that we all are working on this story with the utmost respect to what Gianni Versace represents to the world, and then we go to love,” says Martin. “ ‘My role here is for people to understand you, and see what the love you guys had was made of.’ They were together for 15 years. It’s a lifetime. And like Antonio says, there was no end to this love. There is no end to this love.”

“There are two love stories,” Ramirez adds. “One with Antonio, Ricky’s character, and the other with Penélope Cruz’s character, Donatella. Gianni was very devoted to both of them. Ricky and I wanted to be respectful of their relationship and open about how supportive they were of each other. According to everyone I talked to, Gianni was very protective of Antonio, and Antonio was very protective of Gianni.”

There is, however, no love lost between D’Amico and Donatella Versace. The two always had a contentious relationship. In his will, Versace provided D’Amico with a $30,000-a-month lifetime allowance and the right to live in any of the late designer’s homes, but because of a feud with the Versace family, D’Amico received a portion of what he was owed.

Family was of the utmost importance to Gianni Versace, but his own didn’t want to be involved in the show’s production. Ramirez, no stranger to playing biographical characters—he earned an Emmy nomination in 2011 for his portrayal of Venezuelan revolutionary Ilich Ramírez Sánchez in Carlos—approached the series with immense compassion, but out of respect (and for legal reasons) he chose not to approach the designer’s surviving family members.

“Whatever hesitations or reservations they have about the series, I understand,” Ramirez says of the Versace family. “This is a tragedy. It should have never happened. We want to enforce our own empathy. I hope that in the end they will be satisfied.”

What is a historical or cultural moment for the rest of the world is a story of intense personal tragedy for the family and former partner of Gianni Versace, so a production of this scale and caliber—this isn’t, after all, the Gina Gershon Lifetime movie House of Versace—is bound to reopen old wounds and draw renewed scrutiny. And yet: That’s fame. One’s life—and death—are no longer one’s own. But what made The People v. OJ Simpson so successful was how it took a tragedy and articulated its significance to the world we live in: a world with a 24/7 news cycle, a world of continued racial animus, a world of keeping up with the Kardashians.

While LGBTQ people have more rights and freedoms than in any other time in U.S. history, the rapid progress of marginalized communities over the previous years has revealed the cracks in this country—ugly truths barely hidden just below the surface have been exposed. This America abets white supremacists, bolsters an accused pedophile who believes homosexuality should be illegal, and neglects the victims of a mishandled natural disaster because they’re not quite “American” enough.

“We've been taking four airplanes with 150,000 pounds’ worth of basic necessities,” Martin says of the relief effort in Puerto Rico, of which he’s been a part. “It’s been very difficult because four million US citizens are still without power or clean drinking water. My family is there and luckily, I can bring them out to take a break, but there's a very intense passion about where we come from, and they don't want to leave.”

And, of course, it’s impossible to deny that if homophobia killed Gianni Versace, so did a gun. On June 12, 2016, Omar Mateen opened fire at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, Fl., killing 49 people and wounding 58 others. The overwhelming majority of his victims were queer people of color in what was, until 15 months later, the deadliest mass shooting on American soil. “I want to be very respectful about this because I am not American,” Ramirez begins, cautiously. “But I have a very hard time reconciling how easy it is to gain access to guns here. And I come from one of the most violent countries in the world.”

Though mass shootings remain a uniquely American phenomenon, the conversations around gun control and mental illness have ultimately gone nowhere. For 35 years, the United States has rarely gone a year without a mass shooting. In 1997, the year of Andrew Cunanan’s murderous spree, more than 32,000 people were killed by guns. That number has remained stable, so that on any given day, 93 people are shot to death.

After Versace was killed, speculation ran wild regarding Cunanan’s motive. Some claimed an HIV-positive diagnosis triggered his murderous streak, but an autopsy debunked that theory, itself a form of homophobia. In 1997, homosexuality and AIDS were still inextricably bound so that a gay serial killer was automatically linked to the disease—as if Gregg Araki’s The Living End had come to life. But whereas that 1992 film glamorized its killers, the Andrew Cunanan in The Assassination of Gianni Versace is a pitiable figure—a lost soul grasping at a fantasy embodied by his final and most famous victim. Cunanan, too, was a victim—of homophobia, both internalized and externalized; of his own desires; of his upbringing; of the world in which he lived. Through his detestable actions, he finally got what he wanted: It’s now impossible to discuss the legacy of fashion’s one-time emperor without also remembering the man who cut his life short that July morning.

#acs versace #out #edgar ramirez #ricky martin #article #interview #january 2018

[gemtv00]

Serial Killers

Countess Erszebet Bathory was a breathtakingly beautiful, unusually well-educated woman, married to a descendant of Vlad Dracula of Bram Stoker fame. In 1611, she was tried - though, being a noblewoman, not convicted - in Hungary for slaughtering 612 young girls. The true figure may have been 40-100, though the Countess recorded in her diary more than 610 girls and 50 bodies were found in her estate when it was raided.

The Countess was notorious as an inhuman sadist long before her hygienic fixation. She once ordered the mouth of a talkative servant sewn. It is rumoured that in her childhood she witnessed a gypsy being sewn into a horse's stomach and left to die.

The girls were not killed outright. They were kept in a dungeon and repeatedly pierced, prodded, pricked, and cut. The Countess may have bitten chunks of flesh off their bodies while alive. She is said to have bathed and showered in their blood in the mistaken belief that she could thus slow down the aging process.

Her servants were executed, their bodies burnt and their ashes scattered. Being royalty, she was merely confined to her bedroom until she died in 1614. For a hundred years after her death, by royal decree, mentioning her name in Hungary was a crime.

Cases like Barothy's give the lie to the assumption that serial killers are a modern - or even post-modern - phenomenon, a cultural-societal construct, a by-product of urban alienation, Althusserian interpellation, and media glamorization. Serial killers are, indeed, largely made, not born. But they are spawned by every culture and society, molded by the idiosyncrasies of every period as well as by their personal circumstances and genetic makeup.

Still, every crop of serial killers mirrors and reifies the pathologies of the milieu, the depravity of the Zeitgeist, and the malignancies of the Leitkultur. The choice of weapons, the identity and range of the victims, the methodology of murder, the disposal of the bodies, the geography, the sexual perversions and paraphilias - are all informed and inspired by the slayer's environment, upbringing, community, socialization, education, peer group, sexual orientation, religious convictions, and personal narrative. Movies like "Born Killers", "Man Bites Dog", "Copycat", and the Hannibal Lecter series captured this truth.

Serial killers are the quiddity and quintessence of malignant narcissism.

Yet, to some degree, we all are narcissists. Primary narcissism is a universal and inescapable developmental phase. Narcissistic traits are common and often culturally condoned. To this extent, serial killers are merely our reflection through a glass darkly. More here gemtv serial

In their book "Personality Disorders in Modern Life", Theodore Millon and Roger Davis attribute pathological narcissism to "a society that stresses individualism and self-gratification at the expense of community ... In an individualistic culture, the narcissist is 'God's gift to the world'. In a collectivist society, the narcissist is 'God's gift to the collective'".

Lasch described the narcissistic landscape thus (in "The Culture of Narcissism: American Life in an age of Diminishing Expectations", 1979):

"The new narcissist is haunted not by guilt but by anxiety. He seeks not to inflict his own certainties on others but to find a meaning in life. Liberated from the superstitions of the past, he doubts even the reality of his own existence ... His sexual attitudes are permissive rather than puritanical, even though his emancipation from ancient taboos brings him no sexual peace.

Fiercely competitive in his demand for approval and acclaim, he distrusts competition because he associates it unconsciously with an unbridled urge to destroy ... He (harbours) deeply antisocial impulses. He praises respect for rules and regulations in the secret belief that they do not apply to himself. Acquisitive in the sense that his cravings have no limits, he ... demands immediate gratification and lives in a state of restless, perpetually unsatisfied desire."

The narcissist's pronounced lack of empathy, off-handed exploitativeness, grandiose fantasies and uncompromising sense of entitlement make him treat all people as though they were objects (he "objectifies" people). The narcissist regards others as either useful conduits for and sources of narcissistic supply (attention, adulation, etc.) - or as extensions of himself.

Similarly, serial killers often mutilate their victims and abscond with trophies - usually, body parts. Some of them have been known to eat the organs they have ripped - an act of merging with the dead and assimilating them through digestion. They treat their victims as some children do their rag dolls.

Killing the victim - often capturing him or her on film before the murder - is a form of exerting unmitigated, absolute, and irreversible control over it. The serial killer aspires to "freeze time" in the still perfection that he has choreographed. The victim is motionless and defenseless. The killer attains long sought "object permanence". The victim is unlikely to run on the serial assassin, or vanish as earlier objects in the killer's life (e.g., his parents) have done.

In malignant narcissism, the true self of the narcissist is replaced by a false construct, imbued with omnipotence, omniscience, and omnipresence. The narcissist's thinking is magical and infantile. He feels immune to the consequences of his own actions. Yet, this very source of apparently superhuman fortitude is also the narcissist's Achilles heel.

The narcissist's personality is chaotic. His defense mechanisms are primitive. The whole edifice is precariously balanced on pillars of denial, splitting, projection, rationalization, and projective identification. Narcissistic injuries - life crises, such as abandonment, divorce, financial difficulties, incarceration, public opprobrium - can bring the whole thing tumbling down. The narcissist cannot afford to be rejected, spurned, insulted, hurt, resisted, criticized, or disagreed with.

Likewise, the serial killer is trying desperately to avoid a painful relationship with his object of desire. He is terrified of being abandoned or humiliated, exposed for what he is and then discarded. Many killers often have sex - the ultimate form of intimacy - with the corpses of their victims. Objectification and mutilation allow for unchallenged possession.

Devoid of the ability to empathize, permeated by haughty feelings of superiority and uniqueness, the narcissist cannot put himself in someone else's shoes, or even imagine what it means. The very experience of being human is alien to the narcissist whose invented False Self is always to the fore, cutting him off from the rich panoply of human emotions.

Thus, the narcissist believes that all people are narcissists. Many serial killers believe that killing is the way of the world. Everyone would kill if they could or were given the chance to do so. Such killers are convinced that they are more honest and open about their desires and, thus, morally superior. They hold others in contempt for being conforming hypocrites, cowed into submission by an overweening establishment or society.

The narcissist seeks to adapt society in general - and meaningful others in particular - to his needs. He regards himself as the epitome of perfection, a yardstick against which he measures everyone, a benchmark of excellence to be emulated. He acts the guru, the sage, the "psychotherapist", the "expert", the objective observer of human affairs. He diagnoses the "faults" and "pathologies" of people around him and "helps" them "improve", "change", "evolve", and "succeed" - i.e., conform to the narcissist's vision and wishes.

Serial killers also "improve" their victims - slain, intimate objects - by "purifying" them, removing "imperfections", depersonalizing and dehumanizing them. This type of killer saves its victims from degeneration and degradation, from evil and from sin, in short: from a fate worse than death.

The killer's megalomania manifests at this stage. He claims to possess, or have access to, higher knowledge and morality. The killer is a special being and the victim is "chosen" and should be grateful for it. The killer often finds the victim's ingratitude irritating, though sadly predictable.

In his seminal work, "Aberrations of Sexual Life" (originally: "Psychopathia Sexualis"), quoted in the book "Jack the Ripper" by Donald Rumbelow, Kraft-Ebbing offers this observation:

"The perverse urge in murders for pleasure does not solely aim at causing the victim pain and - most acute injury of all - death, but that the real meaning of the action consists in, to a certain extent, imitating, though perverted into a monstrous and ghastly form, the act of defloration. It is for this reason that an essential component ... is the employment of a sharp cutting weapon; the victim has to be pierced, slit, even chopped up ... The chief wounds are inflicted in the stomach region and, in many cases, the fatal cuts run from the vagina into the abdomen. In boys an artificial vagina is even made ... One can connect a fetishistic element too with this process of hacking ... inasmuch as parts of the body are removed and ... made into a collection."

Yet, the sexuality of the serial, psychopathic, killer is self-directed. His victims are props, extensions, aides, objects, and symbols. He interacts with them ritually and, either before or after the act, transforms his diseased inner dialog into a self-consistent extraneous catechism. The narcissist is equally auto-erotic. In the sexual act, he merely masturbates with other - living - people's bodies.

The narcissist's life is a giant repetition complex. In a doomed attempt to resolve early conflicts with significant others, the narcissist resorts to a restricted repertoire of coping strategies, defense mechanisms, and behaviors. He seeks to recreate his past in each and every new relationship and interaction. Inevitably, the narcissist is invariably confronted with the same outcomes. This recurrence only reinforces the narcissist's rigid reactive patterns and deep-set beliefs. It is a vicious, intractable, cycle.

Correspondingly, in some cases of serial killers, the murder ritual seemed to have recreated earlier conflicts with meaningful objects, such as parents, authority figures, or peers. The outcome of the replay is different to the original, though. This time, the killer dominates the situation.

The killings allow him to inflict abuse and trauma on others rather than be abused and traumatized. He outwits and taunts figures of authority - the police, for instance. As far as the killer is concerned, he is merely "getting back" at society for what it did to him. It is a form of poetic justice, a balancing of the books, and, therefore, a "good" thing. The murder is cathartic and allows the killer to release hitherto repressed and pathologically transformed aggression - in the form of hate, rage, and envy.

But repeated acts of escalating gore fail to alleviate the killer's overwhelming anxiety and depression. He seeks to vindicate his negative introjects and sadistic superego by being caught and punished. The serial killer tightens the proverbial noose around his neck by interacting with law enforcement agencies and the media and thus providing them with clues as to his identity and whereabouts. When apprehended, most serial assassins experience a great sense of relief.

Serial killers are not the only objectifiers - people who treat others as objects. To some extent, leaders of all sorts - political, military, or corporate - do the same. In a range of demanding professions - surgeons, medical doctors, judges, law enforcement agents - objectification efficiently fends off attendant horror and anxiety.

Yet, serial killers are different. They represent a dual failure - of their own development as full-fledged, productive individuals - and of the culture and society they grow in. In a pathologically narcissistic civilization - social anomies proliferate. Such societies breed malignant objectifiers - people devoid of empathy - also known as "narcissists".

[mirrorfurniturelivingwithlayla]

The Urban Dictionary Of Interiorsinvogue.Com New York Mirrored Furniture

Transforming London: The New Breed Of Designers at the Super-Prime

London's modern-day HNWs have different concerns and needs for their homes-- and fresh brand-new designers are stepping up to satisfy the difficulty with innovative approaches, composes William Cash.

Every years-- or generation-- London sees a brand-new type of interior designers or 'developer-designers' who stand out and consult with a visual voice, whose vision mixes easily with the architectural zeitgeist. While many HNWs have actually become aware of Candy & Candy (or at least their Monaco superyacht), Finchatton, or a custom company like Fenton Whelan, these 'designer brand name' firms are all now regarded as well established. To put it simply, they've made lots of cash establishing in London's super-prime market, which up until just recently was up 40 per cent because 2009.

However, following punitive stamp duty hikes, London's super-prime market is down 20 percent. 'Billionaires are shunning the London high-end home market, with sales of "extremely prime" ₤ 10 million-plus houses in the capital collapsing by 86 per cent over the past year,' the Guardian reported in October. The paper mentioned figures from Land Registry which exposed that just five properties were cost more than ₤ 10 million in the 3 months to August 2016, compared to 35 such homes in the very same quarter the previous year. Outdoors London, no property cost more than ₤ 10 million.

As constantly in the residential or commercial property development business, such price falls have created new chances for designers who are tuned into the mindset of HNW clients, and more notably are not caught economically with a slate of pricey super-prime tasks and advancements on their books. HNW customers looking to purchase 'off-plan' have various priorities-- such as desiring a two-bed lateral flat with sufficient entertaining area to host twenty for supper, rather than a six-bedroom ₤ 11.5 million super-home.

The previous few years have the emergence of several under-the-radar individuals who are transforming the guidelines of interior decoration and of what it indicates to create a designer 'brand name' today. Leaders include Katharine Pooley and Helen Green Design, which are following in the tradition of the great London interior designer brands such as Colefax & Fowler.

What is most striking about such renowned 'designer' brands is that, on the whole, clients pertained to them since they wanted their hallmark look. Colefax & Fowler originated what is known today as 'country home design', using a revitalizing mix of modern chic and timeless chintz that stripped away the cluttered gloom of Victoriana. But the brand-new breed of designers is moving far from the signature brand look. Instead, their customers want provenance, creativity, artisan-craftsmanship, eccentric architectural information. These designer-developers have a philosophy of style that transcends the aesthetic into the practical.

Edo Mapelli Mozzi of Banda is passionate about the stage set of contemporary metropolitan life. For each Banda project, 'designers, artisans and professionals are thoroughly picked to guarantee the homes we produce an interest the relevant market. We aim to surpass expectations in regards to the quality and service in the residential or commercial properties we deliver.'

Banda's acutely in-depth bespoke work reflects the most extensive aspirations of HNW clients today and society's altering architectural tastes and domestic design. Edo, who was brought up and educated in England, has actually embraced the title of Noël Coward's 1932 play Design for Living for his branding functions. 'At Banda, our homes are developed for life,'

he says.

With twelve years' experience, Edo and his group utilize their deeply embedded 'market intelligence' (i.e. relationships with representatives and purchasers' agents) to source eccentric homes, typically with some commercial heritage or architectural provenance. Using a team of 'artisan-craftsmen' and designers, the Banda principle is to only put its name to a development that has 'an original identity' and will 'make its own mark'.

The Banda Design Studio is unusual because it provides a really 'full service' experience for HNWs, from interior design to designer's designs, through to the dressing of all reveal apartment or condos within advancements. The most talked-about decorators of each generation are more than mere designers: they provide a window into the soul of our times and the Way We Live Now. Some 95 percent of Banda's work is 'speculative development'; the other 5 percent is a private commission or task work.

Edo has been developing 'character' properties in areas like Battersea, where he has actually had noteworthy success transforming an old bakeshop. 'A great deal of our business model has been producing prime lateral flats outside the conventional zone 1 location,' he states. He points out that in locations like Nine Elms most two-bed flats vary from 900-1,300 sq ft. Think kitchen area dinner for four-six if you squash around the table. 'So you can't captivate.'

His two-bed flats tend to be 2,000-3000sq ft. In one flat he had a 'bedroom that had his-and-hers dressing spaces, a substantial restroom with an amusing space where you might have twenty for supper or 40 for a beverages celebration. But it's a two-bedroom flat. And that doesn't exist on the market.' When Banda took these 'two-bed prime lateral' flats to market, all sold in 24 hours. 'We produced something that is not cookie-cut, is not what everyone else is producing.'

Edo says his client focus has actually always been based upon listening to what 'owner-occupiers' desire, instead of the sales pitch of representatives. 'We understand there is a demand from these sorts of downsizers, individuals in their early fifties whose children have actually matured, have actually left home. They require a spare bedroom however they don't need a five-bedroomed house anymore. However they still desire the space they had.' Many also have a home office space.

Another leading example of the leading brand-new breed of designer is Andrew Murray, founder of Morpheus London design. I initially fulfilled Andrew in May at the MIPIM exhibition in Cannes, where he had invited me to an exclusive lunch party. Andrew is also a co-partner (with Simon Davis) of the Rosebery, Britain's most exclusive double-decker personal box bus-- more like a private luxury yacht decorated like a Mayfair club than your normal bus.

I asked him how a designer today can get the balance right between being a luxury 'brand name' (like the Rosebery) and at the same time keep being unique and individual as a business with personal commission work. The answer is that Morpheus is rooted in craftsmen design work. His mom was an interior designer and his father 'very imaginative', and this is the common DNA style aspect to all its projects. Andrew began as a cabinet-maker and joiner, pretty much self-taught. 'This has been vital because I understand how things are made, and I understand how things should stream,' he states. 'So, originating from that craftsman background, the business progressed as my direct exposure to high-end home evolved.'

Andrew's vocation started at Canford School in Dorset, which had an outstanding carpentry department. 'I established my service when I was still at school,' he says. 'I decorated an office block when I was about sixteen and used individuals from school, which was quite enjoyable. So it progressed from there.'

Clients started asking him guidance on all aspects of the design task-- not simply the cabinet he was making. 'I realised none had a full service, and they were constantly at a bit of a loss. So they were having this charming piece of cabinets made, however everything else didn't truly match, and the arrangement of service wasn't there. It was really historical. It was really in the old school. And so I saw an opportunity to offer the sort of end-to-end service.'

Morpheus is now among the most sought-out design companies in London, with customers all over Europe (hence the trendy however discreet lunch party at MIPIM). It wasn't always so glamorous, though: his very first big project was the conversion of a large house in Stockwell in which the dance act KLF utilized to live. 'Then I ingratiated a designer in Mayfair who had a portfolio of 60 homes-- rentals. I was about 25 then, and I took control of the advancement management of their maintenance, archive, repair-- so it led from there.'

The next move was to develop his own aesthetic design-- putting the Morpheus imprint on tasks without them becoming more about Morpheus than the customer. 'I look quite at the function of area. Our designers do the interior decoration and the stylising, however I do the function, the flow, the purpose. Which was coming through extremely strongly then, and I think that's what caused success and led to growth.'

What makes Andrew the choice of magnates, UHNWs and City tycoons who want their houses to stand apart however also remain under the radar design brand-wise is his knowledge of who the absolute best craftspeople are. 'I can still go onto a website and state, "Actually, make it like that. It's a lot more business." So Morpheus is a design home, but we are also so much more than that-- we comprehend business truths. If a client states, "I've got 4 apartments that I want you to develop," I'm not even going to take a look at the style till I've comprehended the commercial service case. And I'm going to go, "Who's going to buy it? Why are they purchasing? What do they want?" And then that will lead the design.'

[edgarglassfurnitureage-blog]

Why We Love Interiors Invogue Prosecco Glasses (And You Should, Too!)

Transforming London: The New Breed Of Designers at the Super-Prime

London's modern-day HNWs have various priorities and needs for their houses-- and fresh brand-new designers are stepping up to satisfy the challenge with ingenious techniques, writes William Cash.

Every years-- or generation-- London sees a new type of interior designers or 'developer-designers' who stand apart and consult with an aesthetic voice, whose vision mixes easily with the architectural zeitgeist. While a lot of HNWs have actually heard of Candy & Candy (or at least their Monaco superyacht), Finchatton, or a custom company like Fenton Whelan, these 'designer brand' firms are all now regarded as well established. To put it simply, they've made lots of loan establishing in London's super-prime market, which up until recently was up 40 per cent given that 2009.

However, following punitive stamp task hikes, London's super-prime market is down 20 per cent. 'Billionaires are shunning the London luxury residential or commercial property market, with sales of "super prime" ₤ 10 million-plus homes in the capital collapsing by 86 per cent over the past year,' the Guardian reported in October. The paper cited figures from Land Registry which exposed that just five homes were sold for more than ₤ 10 million in the 3 months to August 2016, compared to 35 such residential or commercial properties in the exact same quarter the previous year. Outside London, no property offered for more than ₤ 10 million.

As always in the home development service, such cost falls have created new chances for designers who are tuned into the mindset of HNW customers, and more importantly are not trapped economically with a slate of expensive super-prime jobs and advancements on their books. HNW clients aiming to purchase 'off-plan' have different priorities-- such as wanting a two-bed lateral flat with sufficient entertaining area to host twenty for dinner, rather than a six-bedroom ₤ 11.5 million super-home.

The previous few years have the emergence of numerous under-the-radar people who are transforming the guidelines of interior design and of what it implies to develop a designer 'brand' today. Leaders consist of Katharine Pooley and Helen Green Design, which are following in the custom of the excellent London interior designer brands such as Colefax & Fowler.

What is most striking about such iconic 'designer' brand names is that, on the whole, clients concerned them since they wanted their hallmark look. Colefax & Fowler pioneered what is understood today as 'country house design', using a rejuvenating mix of contemporary elegant and traditional chintz that removed away the cluttered gloom of Victoriana. But the brand-new type of designers is moving away from the signature brand name look. Instead, their clients desire provenance, originality, artisan-craftsmanship, eccentric architectural details. These designer-developers have an approach of design that transcends the aesthetic into the practical.

Edo Mapelli Mozzi of Banda is enthusiastic about the phase set of modern urbane life. For each Banda task, 'designers, craftsmens and professionals are carefully chosen to ensure the houses we produce an interest the relevant market. We aim to exceed expectations in terms of the quality and service in the properties we deliver.'

Banda's acutely detailed bespoke work shows the most profound goals of HNW customers today and society's changing architectural tastes and domestic design. Edo, who was brought up and informed in England, has actually adopted the title of Noël Coward's 1932 play Design for Living for his branding functions. 'At Banda, our houses are built for life,'

he states.

With twelve years' experience, Edo and his team utilize their deeply ingrained 'market intelligence' (i.e. relationships with representatives and purchasers' agents) to source wacky properties, typically with some industrial heritage or architectural provenance. Using a group of 'artisan-craftsmen' and designers, the Banda idea is to just put its name to an advancement that has 'an original identity' and will 'make its own mark'.

The Banda Design Studio is uncommon because it offers a genuinely 'complete service' experience for HNWs, from interior design to architect's designs, through to the dressing of all show homes within advancements. The most talked-about designers of each generation are more than simple designers: they provide a window into the soul of our times and the Way We Live Now. Some 95 per cent of Banda's work is 'speculative advancement'; the other 5 percent is a private commission or job work.

Edo has actually been establishing 'character' properties in areas like Battersea, where he has had notable success converting an old pastry shop. 'A lot of our company model has been producing prime lateral flats outside the standard zone 1 location,' he says. He mentions that in locations like Nine Elms most two-bed flats vary from 900-1,300 sq ft. Think kitchen dinner for four-six if you squash around the table. 'So you can't amuse.'

His two-bed flats tend to be 2,000-3000sq ft. In one flat he had a 'bedroom that had his-and-hers dressing rooms, a big bathroom with an amusing area where you might have twenty for dinner or 40 for a drinks party. But it's a two-bedroom flat. And that doesn't exist on the market.' When Banda took these 'two-bed prime lateral' flats to market, all sold in 24 hours. 'We produced something that is not cookie-cut, is not what everyone else is producing.'

Edo says his client focus has actually constantly been based on listening to what 'owner-occupiers' desire, instead of the sales pitch of agents. 'We know there is a need from these sorts of downsizers, people in their early fifties whose kids have actually grown up, have left home. They require an extra bed room however they do not need a five-bedroomed home anymore. However they still desire the space they had.' A lot of also have an office area.

Another leading example of the leading brand-new type of designer is Andrew Murray, founder of Morpheus London design. I first met Andrew in May at the MIPIM exhibition in Cannes, where he had invited me to an unique lunch celebration. Andrew is likewise a co-partner (with Simon Davis) of the Rosebery, Britain's the majority of unique double-decker personal box bus-- more like a personal yacht embellished like a Mayfair club than your typical bus.

I asked him how a designer today can get the balance right between being a high-end 'brand name' (like the Rosebery) and at the very same time keep being unique and private as a business with private commission work. The answer is that Morpheus is rooted in artisan design work. His mother was an interior designer and his father 'very innovative', and this is the common DNA design aspect to all its jobs. Andrew started as a cabinet-maker and joiner, basically self-taught. 'This has been vital due to the fact that I understand how things are made, and I know how things must stream,' he says. 'So, coming from that craftsman background, the company developed as my exposure to luxury property evolved.'

Andrew's occupation started at Canford School in Dorset, which had an outstanding carpentry department. 'I set up my service when I was still at school,' he states. 'I embellished a workplace block when I was about sixteen and utilized people from school, which was quite enjoyable. So it evolved from there.'

Customers started asking him suggestions on all aspects of the style job-- not simply the cabinet he was making. 'I realised none had a complete service, and they were constantly at a little bit of a loss. So they were having this charming piece of cabinets made, however everything else didn't really match, and the provision of service wasn't there. It was really historic. It was extremely in the old school. And so I saw a chance to offer the sort of end-to-end service.'

Morpheus is now one of the most sought-out design firms in London, with clients all over Europe (for this reason the stylish but discreet lunch party at MIPIM). It wasn't constantly so attractive, though: his very first big task was the conversion of a large home in Stockwell in which the dance act KLF utilized to live. 'Then I ingratiated a designer in Mayfair who had a portfolio of 60 apartments-- rentals. I was about 25 then, and I took control of the advancement management of their maintenance, archive, repair-- so it led from there.'

The next move was to develop his own aesthetic design-- putting the Morpheus imprint on tasks without them becoming more about Morpheus than the client. 'I look quite at the function of area. Our designers do the interior design and the stylising, but I do the function, the flow, the function. Which was coming through really highly then, and I believe that's what caused success and caused growth.'

What makes Andrew the choice of moguls, UHNWs and City tycoons who desire their homes to stand out however also stay under the radar design brand-wise is his knowledge of who the very best craftspeople are. 'I can still go onto a website and state, "Actually, make it like that. It's much more industrial." So Morpheus is a design house, but we are also so much more than that-- we understand commercial truths. If a client states, "I've got four homes that I want you to design," I'm not even going to take a look at the style till I've understood the industrial organisation case. And I'm going to go, "Who's going to purchase it? Why are they buying? What do they desire?" And after that that will lead the style.'

[rex-sidereus]

@treeofmana i dug through my notes, and this was like - mostly to articulate stuff for myself. but here ya go.

why assassin’s creed is brilliant as a franchise. 

I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what the fuck is ubisoft’s deal – why are they so uneven. why can I beat george washington into a bloody pulp as a native american character, and at the same time the mother of the said character is violently an unnecessarily killed for the purpose of his backstory. And then I realized that they are just dumb – like, very dumb. because capitalism is dumb.

like, we had family friends who would breed those samoyed dogs, which look like barking floof clouds. and those dogs are not really intelligent. apparently one would walk around and just randomly eat entire sticks of wood during its walks until it ruptured its stomach and died. and that’s how dumb ubisoft is – it is a gorgeous floof cloud of entertainment going from one potential source of profit to another and keep doing the thing that works until they eat the wrong stick and it backfires in spectacular fashion (ac unity).

but with ac they did tap into a thing so good it is nearly impossible to sink ( even gods fucking know they try, shooting themselves in the foot out of a machine gun) – because the urban environment & the way you interact with it become extremely important, and only in only a way that video games can provide - because the very mechanics that the game offers you, the way it is built goes directly into the layout of the space and your relationship with it.

my basic pitch is that ac is amazing in how it ties together the radically individual experience of a very developed world and complicated narratology/ideology (kinda same thing when we’re talking about texts).

ac relies on a functional urban environment ( the formula breaks in black flag – but in a very satisfying/unsettling way, I’d argue). It is essential because it in itself serves as an instrument to weight the protagonist against the society. each of the ac games is either an archetypical hero’s story or a careful play on it that my jaws hurt – rejection from the society, katabasis, initiation, return to the said society with a coherent mission, yet always separated with the veil of knowledge. run boy run the world wasn’t meant for you + a soldier on my own, etc. you can move really fast and really effective through an urban space, can scale nearly everything, can drop nearly every chase, blend into the crowds effortlessly - use the city itself as your weapon, yourself a weapon of the people, a tool of zeitgeist that gives a final push. because “nothing is true, everything is permitted” - as a philosophy of positive nihilism, taking your own agency & responsibility. it’s honestly boderline anarchic in it’s approach + method.

[my favourite intellectual stretch to go unto is that ac unwillingly follows the development of the atlantic republican thought – xii century renaissance + near east / Italian renaissance / republic of pirates / seven years war / amrev / frenchrev / industrial rev uk – and the games do better or worse depending on the extent that they are willing to engage with the topics of individual vs social agency + responsibility; and the gameplay, environment, and the narrative are really hard to separate in this case].

all of ac’s protagonists carry extreme individualism which comes with the mobility and power of a killer, and follow quite the archetypical narrative of a hero turned into a weapon by destiny, an armed prophet. and for them to be coherent as such, the environment needs to be distinct, thought through, dynamic, and responsive enough to highlight that ‘self’/‘outside of self’ distinction.

on the level of ideology, you are installed directly into the political discourse, because you are actually making history, and the big name figures are your friends/ allies / lovers / enemies / people you can’t save. the whole conspiracy theory thing is just so gorgeously unrepentant, and the double unreliable narrator & narrative within a narrative thing are all buffers towards the lack of historical accuracy - but beyond the obvious separation of sides, they mostly do a shockingly good job. and for me it feels like embracing the inherit absurdity of trying to conceptualize and bring sense into the past, and taking it to the outmost. it is also reclaiming the history from academic pedantry and to something one can be playful with, to something driven by emotions.

and ac also marries history & scifi in a terrific way, that honestly bends and expands both genres as they should be. I honestly don’t think anything could compare to getting into a fist fight with alexander vi in the middle of an alien vault. It is absolutely not believable, but believable should be left at the door when you’d think you grab unto the ledges as protagonists do.

there are two meta-narratives in place besides the main historical one. the greater one of the precursor race + their artifacts, and a more local one of a person entering the animus. [insert all the narratology I don’t have the training to articulate]. their limitations and virtues of the protagonists are so gorgeously framed by the narrative, because in a story of that scale they are rather actors, not heroes - there is no falling into the ‘hero’s shining and morally unchallenged presence solves all problems’ at all. it is complicated and problematic, and different narrative levels interact call each other out constantly.

the story of the historical protagonist is viewed by the modern day protagonist, and both impact each other and the greater precursor narrative – and all feed into the collective experience of a player.  and what saves it from a self-imploding mess is that those stories are deeply internalized through the protagonists with their radical individualism granted by them through the use of space. ac is able to survive a narrative mess because a sense of character self and an experience of the space in the games is so strong.

so, overall, ac binds the urban and the political through eyes of one person, writing a history and an experience of a individual, is fundamentally irreverent to canon and propriety, and expands the genre bounds - all while being ridiculously, ridiculously fun and beautiful.

#p.s. black flag is also brilliant because you start out in a heavily open world with no gods and masters and edward is utter trash #and the weak main plot really hammers that desolation from which you delightfully crawl out of #so it's definitely worth getting through #assassin's creed

[papermoth-bird-blog]

San Francisco: The setting sun.

Early morning in San Francisco, might be one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever experienced. Especially in the quite of the Sunset district, which is the more “boring” part of town in which a lot of immigrant families have settled. The houses, though more simple in decoration than the Haight-Ashbury district, are still painted in all sorts of beautiful colours- many of them pastel tones; pinks, baby blues, pale greens & yellows. Walking in the empty streets of the region alone in the warm reflection of the houses has to be a version of heaven. At the very least, it would be an excellent location for a Sophia Coppola film- or girl gaze photo shoot (looking at you Ali).

My friend Asa’s friend Carolina lives in the sunshine district & that’s where I ended up staying on my second night in San Fran. The area has plenty of Chinese restaurants- that I wish I could say I went to, but alas, I didn’t. Apparently it’s some of the best Chinese food outside of China. I’ll have to make a point of going next time I’m in San Fran.

When I awoke at the hostel, I moved pretty quickly- packing everything away & hurrying down to get breakfast. Honestly, I loved the hostel & would be totally keen to stay there again. It’s the right amount of people, so you can be as social or as lonesome that you’d like without it being weird. It also just generally has good vibes. Plus the breakfast was included- so you know I tried to eat a days worth of food all in the morning to save monies. Although it is in the Tenderloin- which is where all the homeless people got pushed into when aggressive gentrification came and swept the city. After breakfast, I decided to check my bags there & pick them up later since I was already downtown. I left the building without even glancing at a map- happy to exploring in the way of getting terribly & wonderfully lost. Over the course of this trip I’ve become so comfortable & confident in doing so. I think part of my previous distress with the city is being inherently nervous there- so many people, so much to pay attention to in order to navigate it properly/safely. In working through my personal anxiety, I’ve also been able to inadvertently mend my relationship with cities themselves. That being said- I think I still have a country heart & will always crave place that don’t require shoes. Spending time in cities has been really good for me in a way I didn’t expect. I am happy for it.

I wandered through much of the city- first starting off conservatively in the flatter neighbourhoods; the mission, the Castro. Kluane said one of the things I must do is visit the Tartarine Bakery- one of her favourites in the entire world. By happy coincidence I stumbled upon it during my wandering. The line up was around the block- so you know it had to be good. Like everything in Sa Fran, it was a little expensive- but I got some small little bits in a box & took it with me to eat in a near by park. My favourite little bit was the raspberry meringue with cacao nibs. SOOO good. Not too sweet, wild texture. In the line, I heard some pretty funny conversations that showed the heart of San Francisco. The lady in front of me spoke loudly about the tenants of Eastern European Clowning. Others spoke about the odd theatre projects they hoped to get off the ground somehow. There was died hair & texture & wild patterns in the get-ups. I was starting to feel really good about it all.

After I finished eating (& drinking my Komboucha—which I promptly sent a review of to Ryan) I wandered over to Ashbury Heights.  Hands down this is the most famous part of San Francisco. Complete with colourful “painted lady” Victorians, winding hills & people wearing outfits straight out of the late 60s. Haight street is the main hub of the area. I have to say, Haight probably has some of the best vintage stores I’ve ever been to. I’m not gonna lie.. In one store (that was gathered like a library of vintage, sorted by year) I had tears gathering in my eyes. The clothing there were each individual works of art. I spent a good chunk of time studying the hats stacked high to the ceiling, and then the beaded gowns from the 20’s. Again, all these things inspiring so many ideas for future themed parties & White Rabbit. I don’t have much room in my pack (or money for that matter), but I couldn’t leave without buying some beautiful silk scarves- so I could play the part of 50s femme fatale. I also found some really beautiful old postcards from San Fran, which I added to my collection.

The area is also home to some really fun cafes & great record shops. I partially wished I could have spent more time there, but I was craving the park. I wandered over to Golden Gate park which was near by. As I basked in the sun, looking at the fresh tree blossoms, I heard bongo drums carrying over the wind. In those moments, I felt the echoe of the 60s in such a real way. I picked some pear blossoms & stuck them in my hair, nestled under by new blue silk scarf & found a low twisted tree to settle into. I sat in the tree for what felt like forever, looking out over the hills towards the Spanish church steeples & the Golden Gate bridge peeking out over the city haze. I breathed deeply, basking in my peaceful lonesome thoughts. It felt so good to be my myself again. I thought of friends & home, and what it would take to make me feel more grounded there going forward. I feel so much more prepared to be steadfast in what I wanted in my life, the things I would no longer tolerate because they would not allow me to live in the peace I crave. I learned a lot about that through my inner turmoil in the Gopala situation. I talked to my friend Stephanie (who had just been in San Fran a few months back). We talked about the beautiful Botanical gardens in the park, but also exchanged some brief life updates.

Not long after that, as I wove on down the path from the hilltop of Beuno Vista park, the sole of my shoe (on my favourite fringe-toes boots) fell off. So I hobbled along with my sole flopping around like cartoon character. Despite my slight distress over the situation, I still had some stuff I wanted to do, so I continued wandering- albeit at a more manageable pace for my failing footwear.

I got myself back over to the mission area in search of a burrito. For some reason, there seemed to be a lot of pumpkins about- sat out on front porches of the colourful houses. Don’t know entirely what that was about- maybe its pumpkin season insanely early in Cali (doesn’t entirely seem sensicle to me), maybe they thrive in the zeitgeist of Halloween?? Anyways, I found the section that is the capital of burritoville. I chose taqueria Cancun- both because it’s supposed to be one of the best & I am heading to Cancun too.. so might as well get prepped. Despite it being massive, I ate the burrito in about two minutes. I have to say- it has got to be one of the best burritos I’ve ever had & I mean that. Pure & simple & perfect little baby sized wrap. After I polished off that baby off, I stumbled over to get my pack from the hostel.

In a series of unfortunate mis-understandings, I accidentally took an uber over to perhaps the sketchiest parts of the whole Bay area. Two hours later though, I found myself at Carolina’s in the quiet of the Sunset district- ready to crash on that basment couch. I had some quick conversations with the roommates- queer artist types- and then went to bed.

I woke in the early morning, before anyone else in the house. I went to the downtown area to a place called Mel’s diner to meet an old friend I knew in High School. My partial motivation for this, was to get more content for my friend’s diner instagram account. Seeing Monica was so nice. We were not particularly close in high school, but took all four years of visual arts together. She’s been living in California on and off for the last 5 years or so. Originally she was living in the mountains of Santa Cruz & found a really lovely community out there. Eventually, San Francisco lured her in. She told me of the awesome non-profit she first worked for, but eventually the astounding living costs forced her into the tech sector. She enjoys her job at a video game company, but after studying art history & global development, I think her heart still craves work in that area. We talked about how San Francisco’s tech boom is making it impossible for artists to stay here, creating work. Most of them have been pushed out to Oakland, but even Oakland is seeing such rapid gentrification, it is making it quite difficult for artists to stay- let alone continue to show their work. The same is happening in many other west coast art hubs like Portland & Seattle. Of course, once the artists leave, San Francisco will die in the ways it was. Which is terribly sad- confirming it is no longer the city of love it once was in decades past. For the moment, there are still glimpses of it though, and I hope to be back while it still exists in this manner.  It was nice seeing Monica & see her doing so well now, even though she will likely soon have to leave San Francisco too. She definitely inspired me to go back to Santa Cruz for longer next time- there are some cool land projects & anarchist communities out there she thought I’d really jive with. She also told me about some cool farms in Big Sur. I can’t wait to get back there with my sisters. Monica was bullied in High school and it makes me so happy & relieved knowing that she found peace and acceptance away from Toronto. Giving me added hope for love & harmony around the world.

I walked Monica to work (she often has to work 7 days a week to make enough hours to get by- which is insane to her too). After that, I wandered by myself again- as it is my very favourite activity. I walked along the piers- that is to say for a few hours. I slowly made my way towards the golden gate bridge. I eventually got to the park just past the maritime museum in the fisherman’s warf. It was there that I got a message from my best friend Kluane. “Is it okay if I call you” she said. Of course, we often try and chat on the phone, but I had a feeling in that moment it was something important. I crossed my arms & called her in Winnipeg. She picked up right away & hurried into it. It echoed a call I had with my father last fall. She asked me if it was a good time to hear some difficult news. I mean I was in public, but once hearing that sentence it’s hard to delay hearing it anyways. Plus, I heard in her tone she needed to talk about something really important too.

----------------------------------------------------------

Danielle Moore.

As I looked out over the Golden Gate Bridge, Klu gently let me know that our friend Danielle Moore was on a flight heading to Kenya for a UN conference. She continued that the plane had gone down & there had been no survivors. I could hear the shock in her voice still. I didn’t even really notice that I had started crying. After a relatively short chat, we hung up the phone & agreed to talk soon. I spent the next half hour crying in that park alone- trying my best not to full out sob loudly- I don’t know how effective I was in that effort.

I met Danielle in university. In second year we had been nextdoor neighbours- living in twin houses Victorian houses. Due to the fact that they looked exactly the same, we our separate friend group inadvertently often waltzed right into the other’s apartments. Once, Danielle’s partner so far as walked into my roommate’s room, only then realizing he was in the wrong place. During warmer months, both of our house hold would spend days drawing in chalk on the sidewalks outside & strumming ukelele’s & doing crafts. We went to eachother’s house parties. A year or so later, we found our paths crossing even more often, trading often on BUNZ & finding ourselves at a lot of the same events. Danielle had some of the most brilliant optimism & energy I’d ever witnessed. She tirelessly worked towards making the world a better place- widely diversifying her causes. She was honestly so inspiring & hands down one of the friendliest people I’ve ever met. I know a lot of people say that about people that have passed away. I can’t emphasize how true it was; Is. If Danielle was still here, the same things would still be said. I am in a state of absolute shock. I know the wider community is too.

As Klu said, it just seems so wholly unfair, that something so horrible would happen like that- especially to Danielle. There is no making sense of it. Kluane & Danielle had become really close over the last year- as they had both been living in Winnipeg. When Leon, Klu’s brother was to visit after Klu returned to Winnipeg (after meeting us in Mexico), they had made plans to go skating all together. My heartbreaks for her in such a really way too. She’s been doing her very best to honour Danielle in anyway she can & has been spearheading a ritual for all of Danielle’s loved ones across the world. I am doing my best to support that goal, despite my physical distance.

After my good public sob-fest, I called my sister on the phone to tell her. I decided to by my ticket back to LA there & then. I wanted to be around someone I knew, even just to be there quietly next to them. Having family near-ish felt like a good option for me. I soon texted Mia that I would be coming back earlier than expected.

----------------------------------------------------------------

I still owed Gopala money from our roadtrip up the coast. I met up with him & tried my best to be brief. He told me he had been worried about me. I told him I was sorry, but that I had really needed to be alone for the past day & had purposely not been looking at my phone. I also briefly mentioned the news I had just learned about Danielle. He said some swift thing like “Well remember what Krishna told Arjuna, when Arjuna expressed his fear of his friends dying”. The thing is I knew. I still know. I haven’t lost that picture. I have better tools now, and do not feel the urge to fall apart like I did when my cousin died (although even then I managed not to). Ellie’s death was perhaps the most difficult thing I’ve ever been through in my entire life. And I am surviving that. It has prepared me for so much, including Danielle’s horrible death. I kinda wanted to smack him… just a little. Okay, maybe just pinch him a little. I just feel huge resentments towards people who speak to me like I am being some overdramatic-woman-type creature. As if being upset at my friend’s death was an overreaction of some sort (I had resolved my composure at this point).  As if I was some person that needed to be lulled back into a rational state of mind. In fact, I think I am quite good at that- the key being that I allow myself to fully feel my feelings through a purge of emotion. I guess it’s not my buisness what other people’s opinions of me are. Their opinions are only a reflection of their own inner psyche. So, I learned in that moment not to give single shit about what he thought & do whatever I needed to do to feel okay.

Danielle wasn’t in my everyday anymore, though, I suppose she had been for a few years. I cannot imagine the heart pain of the people that were so deeply intertwined with hers. For Kluane who did have her in her everyday. For her partner Colby, who had had her in his everyday for so so so many years at this point. I have such fond memories of Colby & Danielle doing goofy sung duets- Colby occasionally pulling out his Kermit the frog puppet. They had hosted countless potlucks gathering the community throughout university & beyond. My heartaches for her family. How absolutely horrible & out of the blue. She had flown so many times- travelling all around the country with her job. There is just no making sense of it, even though I am still trying for some reason.

I got myself to the bus stop & climbed onto the bus feeling partially numb. I did a pretty good job of not crying- though I still welled up with tears on a semi-regular basis, trying not to freak out the girl that was sitting next to me. I checked in on Klu, who went ahead with performing in her Hip-Hop dance recital- which I am so unbelievably proud of her for. Katie told me that yesterday, a letter arrived for Klu from Danielle. From what I know, the letter contained fairly ordinary, but non-the-less lovely thoughts & dreams. I can’t imagine what getting a letter like that would be like. I do remember how scared I was went they first found Katie’s tumour though. How precious it was to have time to process all of it. With Danielle’s passing, there was non of it.

I got into LA & after a rather fumbly uber ride, I found myself on the couch of my uncles house yet again. In the morning, Tom woke me up & asked if I wanted to do yoga on the  beach with Mia & him. Of course I said yes. I feel more grounded now that I have the tools do deal with all these emotional difficulties. But I can’t help have my mind wander over to thoughts of Danielle quite often.

So too, were my thoughts wandering over to the imminent flight I too was supposed to be boarding in order to travel to Mexico. Mia & Tom were both flying out the following day too- and we tried to keep our fear to the minimal, by not talking about it too much.

We were gentle with out last day in LA. We rode those uber scooter’s back and forth between Venice Beach and Santa Monica. I’m glad I finally got to find them- they are so fun. More importantly that gave me that same wholly free feeling I had in riding that rusty old bike around New Orleans. I had a rush of realization with how much I loved LA. Venice Beach in particular. I have such gratitude for the laid back warmth this area provides. It was like a really soft cushion to fall onto after a challenging week.

We ate at swinger’s diner & talked about family dynamics, Danielle & Ellie & about what we would all do in Toronto when we got there. Of course, my thoughts flickered to the fact that that meant more plane rides. I had only extremely recently become completely comfortable with planes after all this time. My flights are already booked though, and I am determined not to have fear steal my wanderlust. Anyways, I miss my sisters. And seeing them means going to Europe.

I caught up with some friends while I walked around Venice beach by myself later that day. Stopping to look at the deep fried oreos that were calling out my name, until I decided to ignore them. I hung out with Tom & Caroline in the apartment for the rest of that evening, as Eric & Mia went out for dinner just the two of them. I passed out on the couch a little cookie drunk. We had been watching Christopher Robin (after it became very clear that Blood Diamond was WAY too violent for me these days). Of course normally I would have been sure to pack my bag meticulously the night before, but in my altered state I chose to fall asleep instead. I resolved to wake early & do it then, meaning I knida rushed it, packing in the dim morning light of Mia’s still darkended bedroom. Tom Left early, then it was me, then Mia left an hour later- all at differet terminals, so I guess it didn’t really matter we weren’t able to hang at the airport together.

In my haste, I forgot to take my grohman pocket knife out of my purse…which I only realized as they searched my bag. The lady at TSA looked at me like I had done it on purpose & was an absolute criminal. She noted it down on my record. I cried. Honestly because that knife meant to much to me & was one of my prized pocessions. I reminded myself there was more important things in the world & that I could always eventually get a new one. But I continued crying a bit anyways- my thoughts drifting along other paths. Danielle. The coming plane ride. My knife. My frustration with myself. But mostly it became about the plane.

After that incident, I pretty well ran through the airport to make the flight, so there wasn’t that much to think afterall. When I got onto the aircraft I forbaid myself from thinking any bad thoughts. “not in here” I repeated internally. I closed my eyes once I was settles & chooed the thoughts out of my brain. Repeating my mantra over and over and over. Somewhere in there I came back into awareness enough to fill out my immigration form.

When I landed in Cancun I was exhausted & downed a whole bag on banana chips out of frustration. I took the bus into Playa del Carmen where Katie was waiting for me. The humidity here struck me immediately. Especially seeing as I had a huge pack & was still wearing my jeans- which seemed wholly reasonable in California, but ridiculous here. Seeing Katie felt unreal. When I saw her face, it was like I came into realization that I was really there- that I had survived my flight & I could enjoy the next couple weeks with my friends.

Katie had offered to stay on the phone with my as I boarded. I was relieved I didn’t need that, although I was grateful for the offer. The past few days we have been scheming ways of supporting Klu on her journey here. Not only is she sure to be exhausted, I understand the fear she is experiencing in getting on the plane. Anything we can do to help her, Katie & I are determined to carry out.

For right now, for me, that looks like doing some of the footwork of contacting some of the organizations Danielle was a part of to inform them of the ritual. And also check on Klu and do my best to support her in these moments- though I know she’s thrown herself fully into planning (which she thrives in anyways). I don’t know what support will look like here in Mexico, but we will have to play it by ear. We will only be able to tell when it happens. All I know is that during a time like this, it’ll be so nice to have some of my best friends all together again.