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all-action-all-picture · 2 years

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Warlord No. 421, dated 16 October 1982. Tommy Atkins' War cover by Jeff Bevan.

DC Thomson.

#warlord #tommy atkins' war #jeff bevan #16oct #1982 #dc thomson

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deadendtracks · 1 year

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#this is a terrible title for a very interesting article about soldiers resisting combat in ww1

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dnickels · 1 year

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Also, I was looking something up and wound up on archive.org reading scans of The Illustrated War News. We’re now in September 1914, and I’m informed that plucky Tommy Atkins is keeping his spirits up as he wins a string of victories against the demoralized Germans, but there’s some speculation that the war might last as long as two years

Two years!! Surely not. The mopping up will be done well before Christmas, I'm told. Mr. Thomas Atkins has nothing to fear

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noforkingclue · 2 years

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...you ever just. Think about the fact that "Tommy" is British slang for a British soldier? Particularly during the First World War? German soldiers would call out to "Tommy" across no man's land to speak to a British soldier. French and Commonwealth soldiers would also call British soldiers "Tommy". The longer form was "Tommy Atkins". There's even pub music titled "Private Tommy Atkins". Their shitty cooking stove that was smokeless (but really bad at hearing anything) was called a "Tommy cooker". British soldiers today are still referred to as "Toms".

That's true!

We looked at 'Tommy Atkins' during my degree. I studied history and I'm a huge history nerd!

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profamer · 2 years

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The Origins of - Tommy Atkins: This general designation of an English soldier arose out of the hypothetical name, . . . #english #ingles

The Origins of – Tommy Atkins: This general designation of an English soldier arose out of the hypothetical name, . . . #english #ingles

This general designation of an English soldier arose out of the hypothetical name, “Thomas Atkins,” which at one time figured in the Paymaster-General’s monthly statement of accounts sent to the War Office. So much money claimed by “Thomas Atkins” meant, of course, the regular pay for the rank and file. Source: Phrases and Names Their Origins and Meanings by Trench H. Johnson Thank you for…

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#name #Origin.#phrase #Tommy Atkins #Word

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gra-sonas · 3 years

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Poor Tommy Atkins 😟

#michael vlamis #tommy atkins #fog of war #fow bts #mgv ig #cw:blood

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if-you-fan-a-fire · 4 years

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“Canadian soldiers training in England began to feel at home when snow descended on their camp, and took advantage of it start a friendly battle. British Tommies, less accustomed to snow, but just as willing, joined in the fun until the snow-fight raged across the training ground. In this picture, it’s impossible to tell Jack Canuck from Tommy Atkins but they’re all having a grand time.” - from the Calgary Herald. February 2, 1940. Page 02.

#world war II #snowball fight #snowballs #tommies #jack canuck #tommy atkins #canada in the british empire #canadian expeditionary force #british expeditionary force #canada during world war 2 #canadian winter

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look-man-my-onions-are-hutching · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Resistance (Movie 2011), Spies of Warsaw (TV), Good Omens Extended Universe Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Tommy Atkins/Jean-François Mercier Characters: Tommy Atkins (Resistance), Jean-François Mercier Additional Tags: World War II, Whumptober 2021, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Gunshot Wounds, Nazis, barbed wire Summary:

Whumptober Day 1: barbed wire | bound

Tommy escapes from the clutches of the enemy and tries to escape through the woods....

For: @famousmortimer

PLEASE REBLOG SO OTHERS CAN SEE THIS!

#good omens extended universe #resistance 2011 #tommy atkins #spies of warsaw #jean-françois mercier #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #good omens #michael sheen #david tennant

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michaeltrevinosource · 3 years

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Michael Trevino and Michael Vlamis are currently shooting a short film titled “Fog of War” written and directed by Steven Lundgren.

About the film: The US has been at war for 227 out of the 244 years since its founding. The UK has been continuously involved in one or several armed conflicts since the start of WWI. In other words, two of the world’s most powerful nations have been engaged in perpetual wars for generations with no end in sight. “Fog of War” is a story about the horrors of war and what it does to a person – it’s about loss, grief, and the overwhelming lack of respect for human life.

Here are the descriptions of the characters Trevinoa and Vlamis may be playing:

ENLISTED TOMMY ATKINS, early 20’s Tommy is an idealist and a thinker. He would be better placed in a classroom than in a trench in a foreign country, fighting a war he doesn’t even understand. However, being a rule follower, he did what was expected of him and joined up when his older brother did. It was the right thing to do. Ever since arriving in Europe, he has begun questioning that decision. He is not a killer at heart, not someone who would ever pick up a weapon. After he finds out that his whole family has succumbed to the new disease – the Spanish Flu – that is spreading like wildfire not only among the fighting men, but all over the world, he starts to lose his footing. The pressure given under Major Whitley’s command, forcing every man to become a killer, and the news that his brother has fallen in battle, finally pushes him over the edge, making him delusional, seeing things that are not there, and eventually pushes him to kill the

Major SGT. HARRY ATKINS, late 20’s Harry grew up as the fearless troublemaker turning into a man of action. He’s the typical fighting man, someone who will do whatever it takes, a man who values honor and pride more than his own life. He may not be the greatest at following orders, but his will and wit makes up for it, and made him climb the ranks quickly. In times of war, he is the ideal soldier – someone who thinks for himself within the overall military framework.

Roswell, New Mexico season 3 director, April Winney, is an executive producer while the show’s location manager, Ashley Valdez, is a producer on the short.

#michael trevino #michael vlamis #roswell new mexico #fog of war #short films #projects #news #photos #they are either filming in arizona or new mexico #i'm leaning more to nm since finding out about the director and location manager

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all-action-all-picture · 1 year

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Warlord No. 431, dated 25 December 1982. Tommy Atkins' War cover by Jeff Bevan. DC Thomson.

#warlord #dc thomson #christmas #jeff bevan #25dec #1982 #tommy atkins' war

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blake-and-sco · 4 years

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1917: What’s in a name?

Lance Corporal Thomas “Tom” Blake

I suspect, like his brother Joe, Tom goes by the informal, shortened version of his name. Thomas has been popular in the British Isles for centuries but the meaning of the name (ie. “twin”) has no real significance to Tom Blake’s character (but feel free to correct me if I’m wrong folks!)

What’s interesting is that Tom shares his name with the British slang term for a soldier - “Tommy Atkins”, which is obviously no coincidence

Tom represents the futility of the war he’s fighting. He’s young, just your average, working-class English lad with his entire life ahead of him. When Tom dies, so do his ambitions and his prospects. Like the thousands and thousands of men whose lives were lost between 1914 and 1918, we never get a chance to see the man our “Tommy” would have become

Lance Corporal William “Will” Schofield

William was (and still is) one of the most popular names in Britain, so much so that it would have been very difficult to go through life in early 20th century Britain and not stumble into someone who bore this name

Obviously our Will Schofield shares his name with one of England’s most famous soldier kings but the real significance lies in the meaning of the name - literally meaning “protector” or “protection”

Will Schofield acts as the “protector” to many throughout the film. Whether he’s sharing his food with Blake, ensuring he goes “over the top” first, or carrying the general’s orders single-handedly upon Tom’s death, Will’s sole purpose is to protect others.

#1917 #1917 film #1917 movie #will schofield #william schofield #tom blake #dean charles chapman #george mackay

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usedcarsinoman · 5 years

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WONDERFUL AND WHAT WAS Military PEAK CAP History and Wars

A military vogue cap with a flat sloping crown, band and peak (also referred to as a visor). A cap, forage cap, barracks cowl or combination cap could be a style of headgear worn by the military of the many nations, still as several clothed civilian organizations like enforcement agencies and fireplace departments. A military hat is termed a canopy as a result of it virtually covers and protects your head. It's merely simply a additional formal term for a hat.

Army, army unit and Military Cap Badges. Displayed below could be a vary of top quality replica military cap badges. Army regiment badges, army cap badges and plenty of alternative military cap badges. ... The Yorkshire Regiment (14th/15th, nineteenth and 33rd/76th Foot) could be a giant foot regiment of a people Army. The cap, cap, forage cap, barracks cowl or combination cap could be a style of headgear worn by the military of the many nations, still as several clothed civilian organizations like enforcement agencies and fireplace departments. It derives its name from its short visor (American English, called a peak in British English), that was traditionally made from polished animal skin however more and more is formed of a less expensive artificial substitute. Other principal parts square measure the crown, band and badge, usually a cap badge and embroidery in proportion to rank. Piping is additionally typically found, usually in distinction to the crown color, that is typically white for navy, blue for air force and inexperienced for army. The band is often a dark, contraceptive color, typically black, however could also be dotted or stripy.

In the British Army, every regiment and corps includes a totally different badge. within the u. s. military, the cap device is uniform throughout service branch, although {different|totally totally different|completely different} variants square measure utilized by different rank categories. Royal Navy officers were 1st issued peaked caps throughout the decade to exchange the quaint Napoleonic-era cornice and horn hat. Later within the Victorian era, braiding was supplementary to confirm officers were instantly recognized by their subordinates. Senior officers had one gold wreath on their peaks, whereas admirals had 2.[citation needed] Before the Second war, service officers were needed to possess 2 caps: white for summer and blue for winter.[11] but, flag officers typically most well-liked the white cap so as to square out from their subordinates. Royal Navy: Revision history

British army officers wore blue peaked caps as early because the Crimean War to differentiate themselves from non commissioned men WHO wore the pillbox hat. The peaked caps were wide worn on campaign throughout the primary and Second World Wars, till the additional sensible cap was popularized by generals like physiologist Montgomery. when the war, officers continued to wear khaki caps as a part of the amount a pair of military uniform, however by the Nineteen Nineties these had been phased come in favor of the blueness and red caps antecedent worn with the amount one military uniform.

Peaked caps were 1st issued to non commissioned men in 1908 to exchange the Legendary caps and pillbox hats of the warfare era. The new caps were made from khaki wool and generally had a neck flap to guard against the cold. Nicknamed the "got blimey", these caps square measure related to the primary war 'Tommy Atkins' and continued to be issued to members of the house Guard and territorial reserve throughout the Second war. Royal Navy:

Captain Francis Cozier sporting Associate in Nursing early Royal Navy officer's cap, decennial Royal Navy officers, Warrant officers, and Senior Rates nowadays wear a framed cap with a white cowl and a black band in Nos one, a pair of and three Dress; originally worn solely in tropical climates, the white cowl was adopted for all areas when the Second war. Officers have Associate in Nursing possibility of a cotton or plastic cowl.

#Military PEAK CAP History and Wars

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in-my-thinking · 6 years

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Nursery Rhyme Remake.

In March this year I set myself a challenge to try and rewrite traditional nursery rhymes and post a new one daily. Out of the 31 days in March I managed to write 23 “Twisted Rhymes.” Here they all are in one post.

#1 little Miss Muffet  just couldn’t hack it  slaving to earn meagre pay  so she killed the spider  having taken out a rider  and lives off the payout to this day

#2 Jack asked Jill  If she was on the pill  ‘Cos he fancied some hanky panky  Jill said maybe  But she preferred the ladies  Leaving Jack with a meagre hand shandy

#3 Simple Simon  met an arms salesman  going to the fair  said Simple Simon  to the salesman  what have you got there  says the salesman to Simple Simon  I’ve got semi automatics and armalites  indeed said Simon they both sound just right  then he ran off to school  where he broke all the rules  still the NRA remained blinkered fools

#4 Old Mother Hubbard  Just sat there and blubbered  ‘Cos they’d cut her electric off  She’d not paid the bill  ‘Cos she’s seriously ill  But social services didn’t give a toss

#5 Ring a ring of roses  I’ve been diagnosed with psychosis  Might kill you  Might kill you  So you’d better not bring me down

#6 Georgie Porgie pudding and pie Hid in the closet pretending to be shy When the boys came out to play He kissed them all and came out as gay

#7 Ding dong bell  Trump can go to hell  Why do I say that  Because I think he’s a twat  How the hell did he win  Cant believe he got voted in  He’s such idiot to think of that  Starting a trade war with import tax  Alienating all his global friends  At a time when the world’s at risk of its end  Trump can go to hell

#8 Humpty Dumpty shouldn’t have sat on the wall  ‘cos he wasn’t trained to work at heights at all  we now eat horses & society’s confused about men  then Humpty got radicalised and joined an ISIS gang

#9 Doctor Foster went to Gloucester  To ease the poor people’s pain  But when he got there  The NHS didn’t care  So he went private and  earned ten times more pay

#10 Hey diddle diddle fat cats on the fiddle  Politicians just promise you the moon  The rich they just laugh at homeless scum  Revolution needs to come about real soon

#11 Mary had a little lamb  she also had some beef  but to increase her chance  of being an octogenarian  Mary’s now turned to  being a vegetarian

#12 “Pussy cat pussy cat, where have you been?”  “I’ve been to Syria to fight the Assad regime”  “Pussy cat pussy cat, what did you there?”  “I found that the Western World doesn’t really care"

#13 Pat a cake pat a cake so much spam  Come fix my filter as fast as you can  Reboot it and wipe it and set it up clean  I need see the real messages in this cluttered up screen

#14 Jack is nimble  Jack is quick  Jack goes to the gym  He’s so fit it makes me sick

#15 Jack Sprat ate all the fat, he’s on the Atkins diet you see  He gave his wife all the carbs, and lost a stone by week three As Jack ate all the meat, his wife became a bit round  Eating potatoes, rice and bread, she quickly piled on the pounds

#16 Little Jack Horner was a bloody foreigner  Who in the back of a lorry did hide  He kept his mouth schtum, ‘til border checks done  Now illegally in the UK he resides

#17 one two three four five  once I caught a fish alive  six seven eight nine ten  don’t think I’ll do that again  why do you think that’s so  because seas’ are so polluted you know  how can we make it right  pray the unbelievers will see the light

#18 Mary Mary quite contrary  Started with a spliff to blow  Then she popped some pills  Even though they made her ill  Now she snorts lines of snow

#19 Wee Willy Winky, runs through the town  Up streets and down alleyways gunning people down  People close their windows and all the doors get locked  Screaming out warnings that’s Willy’s got a Glock

#20 One two, I can’t believe you!!  Three, four, get up off the floor!!  Five, six, not another fix?!  Seven, eight, come on think straight!!  Nine, ten, you’re injecting again?!  Eleven, twelve, your life’s from hell!!  Thirteen, fourteen, you’re also snorting?!  Fifteen, sixteen, what happened to my sibling??  Seventeen, eighteen, he prefers hallucinating!!  Nineteen, twenty, his life abjectly empty!!

#21 Little Tommy Tucker, sings for his supper,  But we’ll give him nothing, just leave him in the gutter  How shall he escape, his sorry wretched life  We don’t give a shit, he made his own strife

#22 Hush a bye bae, you in the crop top,  Come smoke some blow, while we listen to classic rock;  If the bed breaks, we’ll stand against the wall  Then down you’ll go bae, giving me all

#23 There was an old woman who lived in a shoe  From her home she’d been evicted, lost all her benefits too  She had four children but social services took them instead  No wonder she’s got so many demons running round in her head

#poetryportal #brokensoulsreborn #poetryriot #twcpoetry #izlabseesu #poets on tumblr #nursery rhymes

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hauntingnuances · 2 years

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𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐈

“I have a railway spine. I veer off, and the next thing I know, I’m somewhere new within my dreams. I think it’s the future—and the past and my present have begun to feel like something I’d go as far as to kill myself to let go of. What am I to do, Dahlia? Whatever am I to do…”

1919, January

Somewhere in London.

Shellshock. Hysterical neurosis.

He went to France and never came back. There isn’t much hope for cable dogs, and I could only imagine that he was shot by a sniper, hoping to halt an enemy communication; and I could only hope that his death was quick and painless. I didn’t have the satisfaction of hearing the words, “He won’t be coming home,” and many other women didn’t either. There were the girls whose men came home and then there were us, the herd of harlots that will never know what came of our sweethearts. With our lives uprooted and the hope of a proper future with the men that we loved, we succumbed to vices and sought transactional payments with the only things we felt we could offer—our bodies to the men who went to war loveless and came home lacking the capability to love. I’ve turned my body into a cemetery, hoping to find William again somewhere within the soil.

After the insects have made their claim. After the foxes have known our taste. After the raven has had its say. I'd be home with you.

“You there, my love, you pretty, pretty thing…” My ears perk, drawing back with the chill of winter’s wind and a voice as cold as ice. The drunken slur echoes from behind me, reverberating with the sound of my heels on the cobblestone below. If the cold of London’s winter couldn’t send a shiver down my spine, the sound of a distraught, drunken Tommy Atkins could. I only know he was a soldier because any man out on a Tuesday evening post-war is anymore, all looking for an escape from their own minds.

“Piss off!” I holler back, not bothering to pass more than a shaken glance over my shoulder. It isn’t fear, necessarily, I’ve been here before, followed down a street alike. The fact of the matter is, this isn’t my street. I’m a few blocks away from where I work now, on my way home, tired and worn in. “Come on, I just saw you before I left the pub on the west end. I bought you that fancy cocktail?” he was closing in on me, and I mistakenly thought he didn’t have enough sobriety left in him to keep up. I clutch the crook handle of my umbrella, compartmentalizing my panic into my fist to avoid the shivering anxiety that threatens to claim my stature.

Step, inhale, step, exhale, just keep walking, he will leave… I chant to myself while performing the action, refusing to quicken my pace to avoid a reaction. “That was very kind of you, thank you, I quite enjoyed it,” I politely interject his blubbering over the sound of the night’s perpetual drizzle.

“Aren’t you going to repay me, then?” He catches up to my side and I’m greeted by a ghastly waft of whiskey, and perhaps the stale remnants of an upchuck or gluttonous midnight snack. “It’ll only be a minute, I’m sure of it, darlin’,” His teeth, crooked and gangly, are revealed by a conniving grin that peels back like that of a decaying skull. There isn’t an ounce of life left behind his dark eyes, but the alcohol’s funneled any pleasure left in his soul down to selfish wants, just like the rest of them. They deserve whatever they want and claim it carelessly—they fought in the war after all.

I halt, abruptly, pivoting on my heels to face the bastard. He staggers and sways, but eventually finds stillness, not without a bellowing laugh. I have to hold my breath to avoid inhaling the odor that lingers on the man. He’s tall and clearly the bloke who picks fights at the pubs and brawls his way to a bottle smashed over his head every night. Strong enough and threatening enough for me not to dare provoke. My eyes follow the river of blood traveling down his temple and I wonder when he lost his mind, or if he ever had one.

“Please,” I say curtly, “I’m not interested.” There is a sinking feeling in my gut.

He laughs the kind of laugh of an empty man, there’s no joy, but the sound foretells the maniacal actions I can only assume are to come next. “Of course you are, love,” and just like that, his laughter ceases. There’s no gentle fade, but an astonishing shift from one disposition to the next, “You’ll be doing what I want, yeah? Right here, right fucking now.”

I swallow thickly around the lump that’s formed itself in my esophagus and if that isn’t suffocating enough, his hand abruptly coiled around my neck is. My umbrella is whisked away by the wind and for a moment the cold misting of the evening’s overcast eases my panic. With my shoulders digging into the building now behind me, I wince away only for his fingertips to curl into my jaw and my gaze to be forced on his.

“Answer me, love,” he almost coos as he finds his way between my legs. There was no point in fighting, I was already lost.

“N—...Please,” I hardly form the word, the word that I know will only fuel this man’s already lack of respect for me.

I’ve been here before.

If I close my eyes I can picture him. I can almost forget, forget that every day I stay alive in this world, I have to beg to stay that way. I wonder why. I wonder why, but for a moment, while an unwelcomed man is nestled deep inside of me, ruining the last of me, I can conjure him. William. I can feel his breath against my neck and feel his hands pinning me to what was once our oasis. After the foxes know our taste, I’d be home with him. His blue eyes would look at me lovingly while we hummed a tune to the ocean’s tide. After the raven has had its say, he’d be home with me. Dark fringe scattered across his forehead, sticky with the salty breeze, and I could almost hear him say the words...

As quickly as I find the dream of the ocean on our garden’s edge, I’m awoken during a collision with cobblestone. Any chance of an inhale I might have had is still out of reach as my lungs are crushed with the quickness of my frame meeting the hard surface of reality. I can’t see. I can’t quite hear clearly over the nauseating sound of my heartbeat that’s voyaged to my head. It’s thrumming like a train approaching at full steam.

The soldier is refastening his belt and I flinch as if each clank of bronze is a whip against my soul. “That’ll be all, darling, thank you,” I’m graciously paid a respectable farewell in the form of a swift kick to the abdomen, to keep me down. My cheek knows cobblestone, my temple bleeds for it, but it’s a different street that my heart longs for and only time will tell when I meet the gravel again for my last collision.

“In my dreams, his name is Jackson.”

Whatever will I do, Dahlia? It was a rhetorical question, one that I didn’t even say out loud. I am blossomed with bruises given to me by reality but hang onto my dreams with a careless smile. It is but a body, but I reel against its borders because a man has made me hate it.

“You’ll die, and I —" Her ribcage unbarred freedom to spring while I went digging for mine I long buried in the soil during the winter of war.

“You’ll live,” I emphasize, scattering the steam of my tea.

Our script is written like fables not yet told. Her dreams may be in shades of blue and mine in grey, but the words still remain the same. The woven truth of our fate is an unchanging folk song sang in a different key during a different season, where fact and fiction become one. A grave will hold my body down, but I will crawl into a new world from the bindings of a torn psyche.

She confirmed that his eyes are blue. In death, perhaps I’ll find the color that I miss again.

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wehavecomeforyourprivateschools · 6 years

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This is brilliant. Most troops knew that war was bullshit so solidarity took over in order to preserve life.

I love this one

In addition the norm regulated activities of a non-offensive nature; thus by mutual agreement working parties between the lines were often un-molested-these might include soldiers who emerged in daylight to cut grass in front of their trenches. Similarly each side would often allow the other to deliver the front-line rations without interference. One infantryman observes that ‘it is only common courtesy not to interrupt each other’s meals with intermittent missiles of hate’, while on occasion game was shot in no-man’s-land and retrieved with complete confidence in daylight’[15]

It is massively poor form to bomb someone while they’re having their tea tbf

#ww1 #military #british army #blackadder #i love how they had a mortar and loads of rounds #but the soldiers borked at the idea of using it #god no are you joking you might kill someone with it lol #libcom

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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How Halloween Kills’ Season of the Witch Shout-Out is a Meta Receipt

https://ift.tt/3xVqCqo

Halloween Kills has freed itself from the burning basement of pandemic delays to tease the further rebooted rampages of masked maniac Michael Myers. While the sequel’s war waged against the killer by Jamie Lee Curtis’s Laurie Strode—joined by her daughter and granddaughter—is its driving force, the trailer notably showcases masks grotesquely familiar to those who saw divergent 1982 sequel Halloween III: Season of the Witch. However, an odd meta moment from that film makes those masks more than mere nostalgia.

Michael Myers isn’t exactly known for indulgently ostentatious displays of his victims, and typically kills with silent efficiency before moving on to find further opportunities. However, the trailer for director David Gordon Green’s Halloween Kills has the archetypal slasher in unique form, since we are shown a trio of his latest victims carefully displayed on a playground merry-go-round, each adorned with macabre masks of a skull, jack-o’-lantern and witch, which, of course, are the glow-in-the-dark guises manufactured by the sinister Silver Shamrock Novelties company in Season of the Witch. Their inclusion is not only exciting fan service, but also creates meta-minded movie symmetry (albeit nearly forty years later), since the notoriously-Micheal-less threequel sported a similarly meta moment callback to the absent killer.

Season of the Witch, which saw creator John Carpenter hand the reigns to a cohort in writer/director Tommy Lee Wallace, represented a dramatic detour from slasher tropes, shifting focus from a hulking horror one dreads in the dark to a more insidious variety of dread draped in an allegory centered on rampant consumerism that somehow segues into mass paganistic human sacrifice and even androids…yes, androids! Indeed, the film takes audiences away from suburban Haddonfield, Illinois to a Northern Californian small-town setting, in which Halloween masks—specifically ones resembling skulls, jack-o’-lanterns and witches—are apparently big business. Yet, the only game in this particular town is Silver Shamrock Novelties, a mysterious company that’s pushing sales hard (with an iconically-irritating “London Bridge” TV jingle,) for the aforementioned trio of masks, designed to be worn by children in front of their television sets precisely at 9:00 p.m. for a hyped Halloween night “giveaway.” However, this is obviously more than a bizarre marketing campaign, and a gruesome Trojan horse terror awaits the company’s young customers.

One must then wonder how any of this possibly connects to Halloween Kills, which is separated canonically by multiple iterations. Pertinently enough, Season of the Witch contains a brief, but consequential meta moment that one could argue serves the same meta purpose of the trailer’s callback. The scene in question focuses on a television playing in a bar, at which point the bartender changes the channel only to stumble upon a television spot for—you guessed it—1978’s original Halloween, thereby providing Michael Myers a brief, fourth-wall-detached presence in the film. Audiences at the time dismissed this as a cheeky throwaway moment in a film that’s clearly more light-hearted than the previous two entries. Yet, for what it’s worth, it does establish that Season of the Witch takes place in a separate universe, one in which Halloween exists as it does to us, as a fictional film, eliminating the idea that Michael might be lurking around. Likewise, while Halloween Kills is several continuity degrees removed from the 1982 threequel, its inclusion of the signature trio of Silver Shamrock masks might just indicate a reversal of the dynamic, establishing that Season of the Witch exists in the current Blumhouse-co-produced franchise as a fictional film; one that might have spawned its own accompanying mask merchandise, which Michael could have appropriated for his own murderous piece of conceptual art.

Universal Pictures

However, unlike Michael’s blunt approach to killing, Silver Shamrock’s scheme involves implanting the back of each mask with a hidden microchip—each containing a dark-magic-imbued fragment from Stonehenge—that becomes activated by the broadcast, causing the young wearers to absorb evil energy that kills them, leaving a swarm of insects and snakes to break out from what’s left of their brains—a clear allegory for what older generations always said would happen if you watch too much TV. The situation ends up becoming personal for a doctor accidentally involved, Daniel Challis (Tom Atkins), and Ellie Grimbridge (Stacey Nelkin), whose father was mysteriously murdered while in Daniel’s care. Yet, Michael’s usage of the masks in Halloween Kills could also be interpreted as a like-minded, but more straightforward tribute to the media-made machinations of Silver Shamrock—perhaps as symbolism meant to instill widespread terror when his display goes viral.