Is this anything

Edit: just remembered that Kieran doesn’t have a phone. Oops

Opinion: Tennis Grand Slam continues to be elusive challenge as Novak Djokovic's bid for history falls short

big apple — Of all the emotions a teary-eyed Novak Djokovic felt Sunday as he sat in his chair, watching a stage get constructed for a person else to settle for the trophy he got here here to win, probably the most unique turned into reduction. Of route he turned into sad about dropping the U.S. Open last decisively to Daniil Medvedev, about failing to grab the chance of a lifetime to finished the calendar-yr Grand Slam. And as he pointed out on the stage to the long island crowd that had as soon as given him the cold shoulder, he turned into really touched incidentally they eventually embraced him in this ultimate and tried to raise him to return lower back yet another time. but it surely says whatever in regards to the weight of what Djokovic become attempting to accomplish that relief was on his mind Sunday. If essentially the most grab player in the history of men's tennis couldn't overcome the force of trying to win the Grand Slam, it’s challenging to believe any man will. If a participant who has pulled off so many miracles from healthy factor down and whose center of attention intensifies when his competitors fall apart couldn’t bring it when he got this shut, Rod Laver’s 52-12 months-historic fulfillment within the men’s online game is likely secure. © Danielle Parhizkaran, us of a these days sports Novak Djokovic reacts to a neglected shot in opposition t Daniil Medvedev throughout the U.S. Open guys's singles ultimate. From NFL performs to faculty sports ratings, all the excellent activities news you need to understand every day. “i was pleased it turned into over,” a still emotional Djokovic spoke of forty five minutes after the match ended. “because the buildup for this event and everything that mentally, emotionally I needed to cope with right through the event the final couple weeks became a whole lot. It become lots to tackle.” within the higher context of tennis background, the concept of profitable the 4 most important tournaments of the yr as a Holy Grail achievement is a comparatively new one. until the Nineteen Eighties, lots of excellent gamers on both the guys's and ladies’s aspect both skipped the Australian Open or played it infrequently. For a stretch within the Nineteen Seventies presently after tennis became an expert activity, Chris Evert and a couple of different excellent players chose enjoying World group Tennis over the French Open. When Steffi Graf received all four majors in 1988 at age 19, the lead story within the new york instances framed her U.S. Open as a legitimizing victory for the 10-yr-old Billie Jean King countrywide Tennis middle which changed into described as “a an awful lot maligned byproduct of expert tennis, a place the place money, now not way of life, has counted most.” And yet, because the game has evolved, it has chosen success in these four tournaments — held yearly in Melbourne, Paris, London and manhattan — as the measuring stick for greatness. Held on three diverse surfaces, on three diverse continents, with a season that spans more than seven months, it makes ultimate feel that a participant who raises all 4 trophies in the same calendar 12 months has achieved whatever thing useful of immortality — as Graf did in 1988 when she brought Olympic gold to her 4 majors to become the primary and most effective player to win the so-known as Golden Slam. however the chase to obtain it somewhat certainly comes with a special feeling that even the greatest winners within the history of the game can’t reasonably take care of. Video: Djokovic suffers upset U.S. Open loss to Medvedev (Reuters) Djokovic suffers upset U.S. Open loss to Medvedev SHARE SHARE TWEET SHARE e-mail click to expand UP next OPINION: U.S. Open winner Raducanu and her peers supply tennis tons to cheer history MADE: Emma Raducanu wins U.S. Open ladies's ultimate In 2015, Serena Williams got here to new york having won the primary three Grand Slam titles of the yr. and gave the impression on her technique to a coronation. instead, she misplaced in the semifinals to 43rd-ranked Roberta Vinci, a participant who had by no means given her a touch of difficulty in four previous meetings, and admitted that the power received to her. it could be inaccurate to name Sunday a Vinci-type moment for Djokovic. Medvedev is the No. 2 participant in the world, had overwhelmed Djokovic thrice before and was primed to win a Grand Slam singles title — primarily on a hard court docket, the place he’s been dominant week in and week out on the tour. however’s additionally proper that Djokovic, for whatever thing cause, changed into now not at his most reliable in the last. might be it become the entire long matches he had performed during this event catching up with him, including the 5-set battle he had with Alexander Zverev in the semifinals. probably, in his own mind, he couldn’t block out the enormity of what he become on the verge of achieving. both means, despite vowing to pour everything he had into this match, Djokovic looked absolutely spent through the conclusion. His elastic body that has made him the superior returner of serve in the history of the video game couldn’t seize up to Medvedev’s blasts all day. And in so many key moments, when Djokovic was made to run down brief balls, he become 1 / 4-step slow and sprayed them all over the place the courtroom. “I had greater hours on the court docket than Daniil, that’s for bound, nonetheless it become additionally an emotionally disturbing period for me within the last five, six months with Slams and Olympics, every thing changed into coming together for me here and collecting the entire feelings I’ve been through,” he spoke of. “unfortunately, I didn’t make it within the last step, but in case you draw the line you must be very convinced with the 12 months. “I’ve been very clear and vocal about my goals to play my most advantageous tennis at Slams, and that i’m managing to do this. i was short today for an extra Slam title however I must be proud with every thing that my team and that i executed, and in tennis we be taught very directly a way to turn the next web page.” nevertheless, the sting of this loss will without doubt linger for Djokovic, who has held all four majors directly before however is not going to have one other chance to do it once again in the identical calendar 12 months. he is naturally not finished playing and can be a drive in the video game for a couple of more years, but at 34, maintaining that degree gets more and more difficult. And the younger competition is starting to demonstrate extra signals that they’re ready to take over the activity. “I do believe sorry for Novak as a result of I can't imagine what he feels,” Medvedev talked about. “figuring out that I beat someone who become 27-0 in a year in Grand Slams, he become going for large history, and knowing that I managed to cease him it really makes it sweeter and brings me self belief for what's to come.” The undeniable fact that all of it obtained too massive, too a lot for even Djokovic, doesn't bode neatly for the subsequent person to be in this position — if there even is one in our lifetimes. As lots because the Grand Slam is a relatively new assemble, we’ve realized it’s extremely complicated simply to win the primary three of the year. profitable all 4 may just be impossible. this text in the beginning regarded on u . s . nowadays: Opinion: Tennis Grand Slam continues to be elusive challenge as Novak Djokovic's bid for history falls short 먹튀검증

I'm sure of that. Dawon stans, show up here! 🙋🏻‍♀️ About your requests open, this is the best news ever 😍 So, let me think... What about something cute, I don't know well, maybe a cuddle night with a sweet make out session? Or a late night date watching the stars... Something like that. I'm lacking with my ideias these days, so feel free to improve it. And thank you ^.^ 💟 - 🦋

Date night 

Pairing: Lee Sanghyuk I Dawon x Reader 

Genre: Fluff

Words: 2699

Summary: Today, the heart- warming memories of how you two started dating came back to you and while work may not have been the best, it sure felt like the right day for a date with your loving boyfriend, Sanghyuk. 

A/N: Heyyy 🦋, I’m sorry for making you wait once again but here it is! *Presents proudly* I loved your idea and had such an amazing time writing it. Also, I’ve been receiving support on my other fic ‘Warmth’ and I’m really thankful for that so here is another fic that I hope you can enjoy!

Dates weren’t uncommon between the two of you but suddenly reminded of how much you love him, there had to be a date for a date somewhere in the near future. Since you started dating during the summer of last year, tooth- rotting fluff between the two of you made you shy. The kind of shy where you would smile widely but look away and try to force it off your face. You were embarrassed at how he made you feel so you tried to hide it and send subtle signs hoping he would get the hints.

Unfortunately he didn’t because anytime you would flirt, he would do the same under the guise of friendship. Ripples of frustration made its course through you and one day, all your pent up feelings splashed like a bucket of paint hurled across canvas. You didn’t go for the obvious options of screaming, shouting or crying but just kissing him. Pouring all your feelings into one kiss, relief flooded through you and the desire to hug him overcame you but holding back you hoped that at least this time he would be able to return your feelings. That is exactly what he did and ever since then, the both of you have been going strong. 

In the past couple of weeks there had been changes in your work. A change of leadership and office politics not only made the atmosphere tense but working with your team was hard. Back straight and unbiased smiles towards everyone, you made sure to do an excellent job of not getting involved in any drama. The outcome would be greater than getting involved however, it was eating away at you and you could see that the same was happening with your co-workers. The less the issue was treated, the more difficult it became to solve it. 

Break time came and you were about to leave when a buzz caught your attention. It may have been a passing moment’s worth of information travelling through your visual field but you knew it was him. 

Picking it up, you read, ‘’Hey, how is work? Are your co-workers still having that fight 😂😢’’ causing a smile to light up your face. 

Laughing, you texted back, ‘’Hey, work is still the same. Oh yes, they definitely are and this is making everyone antisocial 🤧 Feels great to be here, you know💀 How is your work?’’. 

Collecting your coat and making a headway for the elevator, you exited the building and walked towards the café opposite- not an unusual place to meet up with colleagues from different departments. 

Opening the door, you were greeted with the distinct smell of cinnamon and pecan nuts. Your eyes caught your friends sitting at different tables. They look like a bunch of students gossiping but the difference is that it’s over coffee. You smiled at the thought. They instantly recognised you and waves were exchanged. Making your way to the table and taking a free seat, a senior spoke, 

‘’I heard that there are some plans underway to build a building at the back’’ to which someone else replied, ‘’Is that where all the resources are going? We need more hole punchers though, because someone seems to be stealing all of them.’’ eliciting laughs from those at the table. 

Your phone buzzed back and opening the message, you read, ‘’Oh nooo, is my baby having a hard time? Don’t worry, some things take time so cheer up and hope for the best~~. Also, I’ve been thinking, since you need a break, why don’t we go on a date?’’. 

Your heart skipped a little at the mention of a date and you texted back, ‘’Ah yes, your baby is having a hard time T_T. Is there a small chance if any, for me to scream on the rooftop tonight? Thank you, I’ll be here waiting 🙋‍♀️ A date sounds super refreshing right now and I wouldn’t mind the idea ~^~’’. 

Online now he texted, ‘’Hehe, you’ll get plenty of hugs when you get home. Very funny or did you forget that we don’t have a roof? Obviously you didn’t so do you think our neighbours will call the police, they think we’re are crazy people already..’’

Resisting the urge to laugh, you replied, ‘’I don’t even know who our neighbours are, should I just call it a half day and head home? Time and place for our date?’’. 

‘’That’s cute ;) I’ll pick you up but at what time do you finish today? Also, I don’t remember our neighbours being scary or anything like that 😶. This one’s a bit random but one day, just one day, lets sleep in. The place is a surprise and no, it doesn’t matter how many times you budge me, I won’t tell you 😘 ‘’ came his reply.

Looking back up from the screen and sipping your coffee, you decided that you had a decent amount of time remaining. 

You texted him back with, ‘’I finish at 5:30 today, what about you? I could meet you at home if there is a lot of waiting time. It’s a bit random ahaha, I wouldn’t mind sleeping in and plus we could do it on a Friday so we have a three-day weekend. Because you won’t tell me, I’m super excited now. You may get into trouble if I call you right now but just wait, when we meet I’m going to shake it out of you😊’’. 

You could picture him laughing a little on the other side as he replied, ‘’I finish at 4:15 today so I’ll pick you up and don’t worry, it’s only a little bit of a wait. I love how we are scheduling a perfect time for us to be lazy and you know what? That sounds absolutely amazing to me right now so tell when you want to do that. Also, my lips are sealed 🤐 🤗 ’’. 

Excited for the date, a small smile reached your face as you texted back, ‘’I’d love that too so tomorrow let’s schedule it together. Alright, I guess I can wait for up to 6 hours 😑 I can’t wait to meet you though, see you soon.’’.

‘’Whoever said 6 hours is long? I can already see you frowning at the mention of that 😂 😂 . Anyways, see you soon babe’’ you read and pocketed your phone with the thought of a date lingering at the back of your mind. 

Break ended within the span of a couple of minutes and exiting the café, you made your way back to work. A small sigh escaped your lips thinking about the workload but you straightened your back and walked confidently pursuing the idea of dedicating these hours to doing what you loved the most. Even if it meant dealing with the tension, in hindsight, the office would most likely joke about it after it ended so until that time came, you just had to wait. 

Sitting at your desk, you took in a deep breath preparing yourself for whatever was to come. Powering through the work felt satisfying, if not, at ease because not only did you get most of your work done, it was almost the end of the day and you could finally see your boyfriend- the moment you had been waiting for. 

It had always been like this as the day was fun but the most exciting part was leaving knowing that you had done what you came for. In the elevator, your senior from another department walked in. Recognition flashed across your faces and you greeted one another but subtly, you felt nervous.

 Your co-workers absolutely, and you meant absolutely spent all day dreaming about how fit this man was. You couldn’t have disagreed more, nudging Sanghyuk forward as more fit even though he wouldn’t admit it even if his life depended on it. ‘’You okay?’’ he asked and you looked up, wondering what was happening. Small talk?. Nodding, you asked, ‘’You okay?’’ sealing the awkwardness in one question. After this you highly doubted any more words would be exchanged. 

Nodding, the rest of the ride was in silence and after exiting, the both of you parted ways like a middle parting hairstyle. Reaching for the doors, you kept a lookout for Sanghyuk’s car spotting it almost instantly. Inside, you could see him on his phone so you knocked hoping to scare him just a little bit and scared he was. Laughing as you opened the door, he placed a soft kiss on your lips, whispering a small, ‘’hey’’. Mouthing ‘’hey’’ back, he asked, ‘’Are you ready?’’. In excitement you replied, ‘’I’ve been waiting for this moment all day, so let’s go!’’. He laughed at your enthusiasm and you joined in, feeling content. 

‘‘By the way, you never told me where we’re going!’‘ you spoke suddenly, startling Sanghyuk. Ahahaha, he thinks I’ve forgotten, but forgotten I have not. ‘’Why do I feel like this is the start of you badgering me for information?’‘ he said as he laughed, rubbing his forehead. Nodding, you smiled replying, ‘‘Do we even know each other?’‘ drawing a laugh from him. 

‘‘Thank goodness the place isn’t that far away then’‘ to which you asked, ‘‘How far is it?’‘ knowing that wherever this place is, it was going to be at least half an hour away and that was enough time to break the surprise. ‘‘Forty five minutes’‘ he replied with a pink tint to his cheeks making you squeeze in delight. ‘‘Please tell me you can wait for that long’‘ he stated, making me look out the window and laugh. His eyes widened as you grabbed his hand in yours and you could tell from the look on his face that he was suspicious. 

‘‘You’re always doing something like that you know, like poking me or what not so honestly, I’m scared right now’‘ he said with a rush and almost immediately followed with, ‘‘Babe, I’m driving’‘. Suppressing the urge to tickle him, you wiggled your finger threateningly in the air as if to intimidate.

 Unimpressed and with the flattest look in his eyes, he stated, ‘’Bring it on. I’m just thinking right now, what’s the worst that could happen?’’ but you knew that his weakness was being ticklish, something you would love to voice loudly on speakers. Giggling, you raised it and dashed it as close to his suit jacket as possible, retreating when he smiled at your antics. Using a childish voice he said, ‘‘Cute’‘ dragging the end as far as the wide ocean and this time, it was your turn to be unimpressed. 

‘‘Wow, that’s mature’‘ which led him to give you an offended look. Bringing a hand to your mouth, you laughed to which he replied, ‘‘Coming from you?’‘. ‘‘Excuse me!’‘ you spluttered and the both of you sat there laughing. He shifted the position of your hands onto your lap and on the open road, the trees and the house passed by in a blur. If you looked back, the speed slowed down and everything was much clearer and resting your head on the headrest, you took in the fresh sandalwood scent of the car’s interior while the warm rays of sun ran across the dashboard as the ending of the trail led to his hand on the wheel. The backdrop a blur, your eyes traced the lining of his nose bridge all the way to his jawline, admiring his relaxed face. 

It wasn’t exactly a wonder but in the span of less than forty-five minutes, the sky had begun to darken. A pink and purplish hue descended mixing in with the darkness of the blue night sky. Among the low moon, the stars that littered the sky caught your eyes and this was the first time you had paid attention to the beauty of the sunset speaking gently, ‘’The sky is so pretty today’’. 

Looking up, he sucked in a sharp breath as he took in the stunning sight. ‘’It is’’ he said in agreement. Breaking the comfortable silence that enveloped the two of you, he stated with joy in his voice, ‘’We almost reached by the way’’ peaking your focus on your surroundings. 

‘‘Not a lot of people come here so we should have the place to ourselves’‘ he said, turning left and finding a parking spot. Stepping out, the wind blew calmly like the sea breeze at the beach- welcoming and pleasantly. Coming around the side, he hugged your hand in his own and tenderly tugged you along. 

‘’Where are we?’‘ you asked looking up at him with wide, honest eyes. ‘‘Somewhere where you can relax. A colleague recommended this place so I’m just as new to this place as you are.’‘ he ended with a twinkling laugh. Adorned with tiny, green plants, the pathway wasn’t lit but there was just enough moonlight for the both of you to walk up. From the distance, you realised how much wider the place actually was.

Sculpted, a dark green hedge was accompanied by dome- shaped, glossy bright orange flowers that could be seen even as night approached. It acted as an entrance and replaced all the signs welcoming confused visitors. Leading you towards a bench, the two of you took a seat side-by-side. He left your hand and instead wrapped an arm around your shoulder pulling you to rest your head on his chest. 

‘’Are you cold?’’ he asked and you shook your head disagreeing. ‘’You were right, this place is really relaxing. Thank you for thinking of me and bringing me here’’ you said in appreciation. Moving his right arm to the side of your head, he turned your head so that you were face to face with him. Eyes, a warm shade of dark brown, he connected his lips with yours.

Sweet passion fruit and milk chocolate, the sky blue hydrangeas bloomed; in the distant ambience of the place, a bird took its first flight, soaring. Carefully and softly, your lips moved with the flow of his lips which feel velvety and delicate. Leaning away, the both of you took a breath as he said, ‘’You know those people who you just click with? As in, you become their best friends and they become special to you. So always- I will always think of you.’’.

Your hands moved up to his face and capturing his cheeks, your lips met his. Connecting for the second time, he felt just as sweet as the first, like every kiss you had shared. Endearingly, he managed to daze you each time reminding you of the shiny and sugary glaze on doughnuts, simple and classic. 

Smiling, your hands moved to smooth his hair which really didn’t need any smoothing but you felt the need to press his face in between your hands. Slyly you said, ‘’I think I like you, like a lot’’ to which he chuckled and said, ‘’I like you a lot too so stay with me’’. ‘’I’m not going anywhere, I’m just here to bother you’’ you replied with a giggle and facing you he incredulously asked, ‘’Did you just ruin-?’’.

Laughing while shaking his head, he pressed a kiss to the side of your forehead making your cheeks turn pink. When you returned the kiss, he questioned, ‘’What was that for?’’ and looking at his flushed cheeks, you smiled at the accomplishment. ‘’Just so, for once, you can feel how you make me feel’’ you replied with a bright smile. 

Hand to his chest he acted like his chest was hurting and breathing hoarsely said, ‘’Slow down’’ making you laugh a little. Settling down, your head went back to lean on his chest. Fingers gently pushed your hair out of your face; you moved your arms to envelope his torso, feeling the toned lines. Lying in his embrace, the two of you sat and watched the stars.

 Therapeutic, your relationship was something that you looked forward to everyday because apart from seeing one another, new adventures and exciting thrills came your way. Ultra realistic stills of your time with him were printed and couldn’t be easily forgotten so together, you took baby steps, one day at a time.

Film at MIT

Before I came to MIT, I strongly considered going to film school. I enjoyed acting and screenwriting, and most importantly I had an interest in cinematography and photography.

I’ve found that event at a technical institution like MIT, there’s a lot of hidden opportunities.

Clubs and Activities

Extracurricular-wise, the landscape isn’t exactly sparse.

LSC: The MIT Lecture Series Committee

LSC hosts advance screenings, 35mm motion picture projections, concerts, the annual Science Fiction Marathon, and public film programs for the greater MIT community. Tickets are usually $5, although there are free movie nights. Committee members help organize lectures, set up the 6-channel DTS digital and Dolby Digital sound system, and other electronics in 26–100, as well as work on publicity and exec roles.

MIT Animation Group

MITAG primarily organizes animation lectures, IAP/Spark/semesterly workshops on 3D and 2D animation, and hosts the annual AniMIThon (an animation competition open to high school and college students in the Northeast region).

MIT Student Cable

The Student Cable Club primarily works on filming scripted and live shows. The club used to run MITV Channel 36 on the MIT cable television system, but now primarily works on creating ads for student groups, filming on-campus performances, and other tasks. They have (likely) the largest collection of cameras and film equipment on campus.

Tea with Teachers

Tea With Teachers curates a regular YouTube series where students interview prominent professors about their lives. The show features anecdotes, wise quotes from faculty members, and good tea.

I go to meet Nick from the UA committee working on TwT, and he taught me about DaVinci Resolve and the editing process for the YouTube series. I was unable to fulfill the time commitment for the role, but learning more about the project was interesting nonetheless.

E33 Productions | Home

E33 doesn’t exactly do film, but if you’re interested in lighting, they provide paid services for shows and special events. They also offer tape and gels, rentals for equipment, sound systems (although most requests go to MIT A/V Services), headset/comm services, masonite, and other theater production requests.

Technique

Technique is also not strictly a film club, but they are the primary photography club on campus, running the campus yearbook and group photos for student groups and living groups. They offer paid photography services, and many on-campus amateur photographers have been born from the club.

The Tech

There seems to be a trend of not-quite-film clubs on campus, but I needed to rep The Tech’s Arts and Photography Departments. They primarily review movies/live performances and take photos of different events happening around Cambridge. If you’re lucky, you might get a press pass to a high-attendance event or conference.

Classes

There’s also the option of cross-enrolling at Wellesley, Harvard, or MassArt. I have a few friends who have taken a variety of fine arts and animation classes at MassArt, and there’s definitely a lot of rich classes to take in film theory and film studies at Harvard.

In addition, I was amused to find that unlike the extreme numbering system of MIT or elaborate names of Harvard, MassArt classes go by a simpler scheme: Film I, Film II, Film II and so on in the style of a typical arts curriculum where you build on skills in previous classes.

There’s definitely a different vibe with MassArt classes — they focus more on drawing and fine arts (if that’s your style) and application of skills in an industry standard. Harvard classes are definitely more theory than studio, in comparison.

If you’re looking to build a portfolio or to hang around other artsy people, the commute to Boston might be more worth it than you think. (This is especially true because MIT’s Drawing for Designers class is incredibly over-enrolled and we don’t exactly offer too many fine arts-type classes or studio-type classes for students interested in building a portfolio/reel of work).

In terms of classes, there’s a few must-take film classes.

21M.011: The Film Experience

This counts as a CI-H, and rightfully so — the class features a number of written assignments, nightly film screenings, and lectures analyzing the aspects of cinema and film styles across the ages. It’s definitely one of the best intro film classes and one of the best HASS classes offered.

21L.706: Advanced Topics in Film

The topics covered in this class vary. This semester, it’s Contemporary Horror, and the lecturer (Prof. Eugenie Brinkema) is similarly legendary. I haven’t yet taken the course, but I’ve heard really great things about the professor and mind-blowing debates during Lit Tea.

CMS.335: Short Attention Span Documentary

This class focuses on producing 1–5 minute digital video documentaries for platforms such as YouTube. It also includes screenings and discussions of the technical aspects of documentary film (not to mention actually workshop-ing and shooting a series of short videos!)

CMS.333: Production of Education Videos

I have a friend taking this class right now, and it sounds really interesting. Basically, you’re tasked with choosing a topic and doing a semester-long dive into creating a short series that explains specific topics within the area (similar to Crash Course!) It reminds me of my high school I-SEARCH assignment (I did mine on ASMR…good memories…)

4.354: Intro to Video and Related Media

In this class, you analyze time, space, perspective, and sound within film, working on performance, social critique, and manipulating raw experiences into aesthetic form (equal parts studio and theory, although it seems to be more practical and hands-on). I’ve had a really positive experience with Course 4 classes, and I’m definitely looking to take this class in the near future.

4.352 — Advanced Video and Related Media

This class focuses on pre-production planning, digital editing techniques, chroma-keying, post-production, audio, visual effects, and contemporary video artwork for image and sound manipulation. It’s one of the courses offered through SA+P ACT (School of Architecture and Planning, Arts Culture and Technology).

Some other cool classes I won’t delve into, but may be interesting:

21W.752 — Making Documentary: Audio, Video, and More

CMS.313 — Silent Film

4.341 — Intro. to Photography & Related Media

4.344 — Adv. Photography & Related Media

4.356 — Cinematic Migrations

CMS.339 — Virtual Reality and Immersive Media Production

6.163 — Strobe Project Laboratory

21M.842 — Live Cinema Performance

21M.863 — Interactive Design and Projection for Live Performance

Research Roles

There’s also a few opportunities for research roles related to film, most notably through the MIT Media Lab’s Open Documentary Lab. There’s quite a few Fellows working at the Media Lab with a variety of industry experience (one of my current professors premiered at Sundance, Cannes, Tribeca, and several other prestigious film festivals in the past year alone. Even masters students have had extensive film experience and can be incredible resources to pick the brains of or work beside).

There’s also a huge focus on VR/AR experiences right now, with an entire lab space dedicated to 360 video, mixed reality, virtual reality games, etc.

In addition, MIT’s Game Lab is also working on animations/game design if you’re particularly interested in the animation side of filmmaking.

Majors/Minors

Although MIT doesn’t offer an official film major/minor, there’s a few programs that are remarkably similar to a film studies minor and have a nice handful of classes that explore film in depth.

Course 4: Art, Culture and Technology

While ACT is only offered as a minor (alongside Art History and Design, among others), it does open the doors to an incredible range of media classes focused on photography, video, and sound, exploring cinema, public art, and the intersections of art and culture in public spaces. Since it is offered through the School of Architecture and Planning, there is more of a focus on the physical side of aesthetics.

Course 21L: Literature

Offered through the SHASS departments, Literature (aka Lit@MIT) is a close-knit major that focuses heavily on analysis and interpretation. There is definitely a good degree of writing/essays and critiques, but it’s more theoretical than studio-styled. Many of the academic-focused film classes are offered through 21L. (It’s also offered as both a major and minor, and they have 6-credit sample classes every term!)

Comparative Media Studies

Nick, who I mentioned before, works in film through the CMS department. This department also encompasses the MIT Writing major, and ranges in discipline from photography and games to comics and film. It’s located within the Media Lab and has close ties with the Open Documentary Lab. A lot of visiting scholars and artists usually visit CMS, and (in my biased opinion) they have some of the best events and talks on campus.

I’ve been dancing around majors/minors for some time now. I know that I definitely enjoy being a 6–2 (Electrical Engineering and Computer Science), but I’ve enjoyed my classes in 8 (Physics) and 18 (Mathematics), and I’m also a big fan of those departments. On the other hand, Course 2 (Mechanical Engineering) sounds incredibly interesting, as do CMS, Course 4 (Architecture and Design), and Course 11 (Urban Planning).

This semester, I’m taking CMS.339 (Virtual Reality for Immersive Media) and listening in on 4.s22 (Domesticity for New Humans). I was also able to shop 4.s48 (Design for Robotic Assembly) and it seems like an absolutely fantastic class integrating technology and robotics with architecture and design.

I’m looking forward to exploring more film opportunities throughout my time at MIT. I’ll hopefully do a write-up about the Reality, Virtually Hackathon and some of the cool VR projects being done in conjunction with film. In the meantime, I hope this is helpful!

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Reposted from Medium

Hi! I’m Ruby, and I’m part of a group of researchers studying fanfiction communities through the University of Washington’s Human Centered Data Science Lab.

In November of 2017, we sent out a survey to all of you to learn a bit more about what motivates folks to participate in fanfiction communities, what kinds of activities you all participate in, and where your communities are. It’s been a hot minute, but I finally have some results to share!

We were absolutely blown away by your enthusiasm filling out our survey. We got a total of 1,888 responses from all over the world, which was way more than we ever could have imagined. Thank you all so much!

In this blog post, I’ll give a quick overview of participant demographics and fan experience data. Then I’ll finish off with a preview of a few more blog posts to come!

Demographics

Survey participants’ demographic information matched well with previous fanfiction community censuses. (1, 2, 3, 4) If you’re familiar with fandom spaces, this section shouldn’t be too much of a surprise.

Gender

The following chart represents the gender distribution of our participants. These percentages are not cumulative! Participants could check as many identities as applied to them.

Gender identities that fall under the nonbinary and genderqueer umbrellas were aggregated for the purpose of this chart, but a comprehensive distribution will be shared in a more robust demographics post later on. Stay tuned!

Age

The age distribution of participant was pretty typical of fanfiction communities. This chart expresses the distribution as percentages. Children under 13 were excluded from filling out the survey.

Location

We collected some general location data and found that most of our participants were from the United States and Europe. That said, participants answered our survey from all over the globe. Here’s a map of where our participants were from.

(Please click for full-size!)

This map was created by aggregating coordinate data into different “buckets” based off of how close those locations were to one another. Each of the colored circles on the map represents one of these “buckets”. Any coordinate within a certain distance from the epicenter of each circle is included in the total displayed at the center of that circle.

To put that in context, the red circle over Germany doesn’t mean that there are 349 participants from Germany—it means that there are 349 participants from various locations around Europe, with the center of that bucket being located in Germany.

Blue circles represent buckets of 10 or fewer participants, yellow circles represent buckets of 100 or fewer participants, and red circles represent buckets of more than 100 participants.

Fandoms

Participants represented a great spread of different fandoms. Keep in mind that these results are from November 2017 through January 2018, so the fandoms represented in this word cloud are the ones that were popular among participants a year ago.

This word cloud only includes fandoms that were listed by ten or more participants. Although we did combine synonyms of fandom names (e.g. BNHA, My Hero Academia, MHA, etc. are synonyms of Boku no Hero Academia) we did not do any “meta-categorizing” (e.g. making Boku no Hero Academia a synonym of “Anime”). Therefore, the only fandoms included here are ones that were listed explicitly.

Fan Experiences

The biggest part of our survey delved into the activities that people in fanfiction communities participate in. We’ll give some more in-depth analysis of this data later, but for now, here’s a taste.

Personal History

First off, let’s talk about experience in terms of time. The following chart shows how long participants have been involved with online fanfiction communities.

Please keep in mind that each of these brackets are different sizes. The first bracket, “1 - 2 years”, represents only a 2-year span, while the fourth spans 10 years.

Which Fanfiction Communities?

Fans who filled out our survey were mainly based on tumblr and AO3, and most had used FanFiction.Net in the past. This is good to keep in mind, because the results from fans who favor other communities—say, Wattpad—might look very different. There is no one monolithic “fanfiction community”.

Activities

A significant portion of our survey questions asked participants to indicate how often they do various fanfiction-related activities. Although the complete list of activities was a lot longer, for this first overview post we’re just going to focus on three: reading fanfiction, writing fanfiction, and commenting on fanfiction.

Unsurprisingly, reading fanfiction was the most popular activity among our participants. About two-thirds of participants read fanfiction every day. Only 5 participants (0.3%) indicated that they’d never read fanfiction.

As for writing fanfiction, the distribution is much more even across the five frequency options. About a third of participants write fic at least once or twice a week, while another third write fic more infrequently (a couple times a month or less). The final third had not written fic or were no longer writing fic at the time of the survey.

Leaving comments or reviews on fanfiction was a fairly ubiquitous activity. Nearly all participants (88.8%) reported that they do at least occasionally leave comments or reviews. Almost half of participants (46.7%) left comments at least once or twice a week.

What’s Next?

Now that I’ve shown you all a sample of the results from the survey, what else is there to see?

In the coming months, my research team and I will continue to post about additional findings from the survey results. Some of these posts may cover topics such as:

Demographics and activity information by fandom

Comparing age and different activities in fanfiction communities

Expanded demographic information, especially for gender

In addition, we have a significant amount of data from long responses to our survey question, “What motivates you to participate in fanfiction communities?” Participant responses were incredibly rich and detailed, and there’s a lot of fantastic information to draw from them.

For now, that’s a wrap! Thanks for taking a look at our results. If you have any questions or want clarification on any of the data shared here, please don’t hesitate to reply to this post, reblog with a comment, or send an ask. I’ll be happy to clear up any confusion, if I can.

May the force be with you all, 

Ruby Davis  Human-Centered Data Science Lab  University of Washington

the airport AU, part 130 by rjdaae and hopsjollyhigh

Previous parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100 101, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10 111, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29

—

ERIK

Her voice wraps around him, gleaming silk ribbons that catch light like prisms and send stars scattering across his vision; he shuts his eyes for the sake of focusing on the piano below his fingers. Still, it sits like a reassuring arm across his shoulder. This is why he believed in this voice; it isn’t technical perfection, but there is some unteachable passion in it, something that he doesn’t even understand himself. Her voice stirs something deep inside of him, the frail pieces that he has locked up for their own protection, things that he has forgotten himself capable of over the course of a too-long life. It is a wall so industriously built that he had thought it permanent, but when she sings, it is as if she is chipping out a window. A window that may someday become a door, that may someday bring down that wall- it’s too soon for all of that, but his heart throbs with things that he can’t name, and he is too caught up in the wonder and beauty of it all to be afraid of the freedom, the sudden ease of breathing. As if he’d been holding his breath, not just for a few minutes, but for decades of his life.

He is quite convinced that he could listen to her sing forever, especially this joyous passage. It almost feels like an intrusion, but at the very least, the words of Vaudémont’s interjection feel right-

“Yes! It’s true! You speak the truth!”

The conviction in his voice- she has brought him the truth, bathed his dim world in light; perhaps, like Vaudémont, he had begun this journey as a teacher, as though he knew more than her- and every day, she has pushed him, challenged him, changed his way of looking at the world. His way of looking at her. Vaudémont had been arrogant, to assume that this young woman knew any less of the world than he did; he had been unchanging in his ability to perceive the world until Iolanta described the way she saw it.

These things come to him rapid-fire, moments of clarity that hit him and spark at him before fading back into the background, before thought sinks away and the music rises up again.

Oh, you’re right! In your heart shines the great torch of truth, and before it, our earthly light is fleeting and pitiful!

Any light he’s ever seen has paled in comparison to the radiance that seems to bounce between them now, the vibrating energy that draws the song forward and through towards its conclusion; at some point, he finds, he must have half-stood up from the bench, too restless to sit, hunched over the keys. He lets his eyes close again, focuses only on each tandem breath, living inside these final moments, if only to avoid dreading the end of the song. 

---

CHRISTINE

The song could only ever have been a duet. There’s no real gap between the end of Christine’s verse and the beginning of Erik’s. No room for a breath, had a single person attempted to sing both parts; no span of time that could have been measured in blinks of an eye, or the quickest beat of a frantic heart.

Standing just behind her friend, Christine freezes in that nonexistent space between her voice and his, gaze caught like a snared rabbit by the glinting wire of the mask—conscious thought scrabbling uselessly in the dust as emotion leaps and wrestles with instinct, twisting her heart into a tangled, choking knot.

Only to snap just as suddenly, sawn apart by the razor edge of the moment itself.

Vaudémont’s words describe a light within Iolanta; Christine’s own heart feels more like the moon as Erik’s voice floods over her again, the warm blaze of a star that she can only hope to reflect. Yet, there can be no disputing the faith, the absolute certainty of the sound that fills her ears; she shivers as bright wings lift her from the ledge on which she had been so precariously perched, raising her beyond the reach of the tempting whispers of the abyss below.

As if pulled by the same force, Erik rises partway from the piano bench, blocking her view of the sheet music; though, the markings on the tablet screen have long since ceased to matter. The song soars onward, hauling her feet off the ground even as she races joyously after it. It’s like gripping a kite string in a hurricane—a strong line that stretches through her, taut as it runs from head to heel, dredging her voice from the deepest part of her soul.

“But, to be like you, I would like to see the light of the sun!”

Music flows through them, around them, between them—living in the solid vibration of the piano, in the breath of their each shared note, like some kind of symbiotic creature; making *them* somehow more alive by its presence. Maybe this, she thinks, is the reason most operas are sung-through: who could bear to write silences into a score, knowing that they would be signing the death warrant of something so precious?

Yet, even as their own song flies inescapably towards its conclusion, Christine finds no pain, no tragedy in the beautiful, soaring phrases. To its last breath, the heart of the music beats without regret, unrestrained and fearless. What she’d taken for death is instead a triumphant ascension—Faust’s Marguerite taken up to heaven, borne in angels’ arms.

Her heart aches to recognize how lost she had been: to have seen a sunset, and believed that it meant endless night; to have resigned herself to a lifetime of stumbling with only a candle to guide her, when she had merely to wait for the return of morning. It’s disconcerting, unsettling, her view shifting like a sudden landslide—like Iolanta’s first terrifying, dazzling glimpse of the blue sky after agreeing to have her vision restored.

The light in the basement is dim, soft, as Christine opens eyes that she doesn’t remember having closed. The late afternoon sun trickles in through the single high window, like the glow that must have streamed into the mouth of Lazarus’ cave. Painting warmth and shadow with the same brush, it shines dully on the weathered body of the piano, on Erik’s shoulders, which shake slightly as he stands over the keyboard, driving the final chords from the instrument in a dynamic clash of sound. Her eyes well up to see him so transported—the thought occurring to her that she might not have been the only one to learn something in this ‘lesson’.

Silence comes too quickly.

Despite herself, despite knowing better, Christine can’t help the residual flare of panic that hits her. For a moment, it’s as if she’s forgotten how to breathe, desperately and irrationally uncertain of how to survive in a world from which music has disappeared again—like a life ring slipping from the hands of a drowning person.

Then, her friend takes an unsteady breath of his own; in it, she hears the first note of all the other songs they will sing together.

Tears spill over, running down Christine’s cheeks as she leans forward, fighting herself for every inch—tears that fall in tiny, dark spatters on the back of Erik’s sweatshirt when she finally lets her forehead come to rest in the gap between his shoulder blades.

---

ERIK

Dust specks hang still in the warm beam of light filtering in through the tiny basement window, as if the whole world has frozen with them. The silence is choking after the brilliance of sound, and Erik feels frozen in place. His mind is foggy, and the thought of speaking or moving is so distant- as it stretches on, the familiar weight of anxiety begins to settle around him again. What to do, what to say, how to react to something so utterly unique and fantastically beautiful- how will they ever interact the same way again? How can they go back to a casual lesson after something like this? He knows that Christine must have felt it as well; it wouldn’t have worked if Christine hadn’t felt it. They had ceased to be separate individuals- just for a moment, he had lived outside of himself. He can hardly remember how to breathe; how is he supposed to guide a student?

His worrying doesn’t have to last long. His muscles tense instinctively at the unexpected touch of someone at his back- he goes frozen with the effort of suppressing old reflexes. The largest piece of him would whip around to confront a person coming from behind, touching him unexpectedly, but Christine’s presence, especially in that moment, seems to have quieted those impulses.

What is she? He can’t place her, never has been able to- she has landed in his world with the brilliance of a falling star, and all the blinding confusion. Some hidden part of him, something that he has scarcely acknowledged since childhood, makes its presence known around her. It demands attention- it overwhelms him with a need for affection that contradicts everything else he’s ever learned about human touch. 

When the initial fear fades away, when his muscles relax and he lets out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, all that’s left is a warmth at his back, and somehow, it feels like seeing a pinprick of light after years of fumbling in some dark and twisting cave. He straightens slowly, moving away from her just for a moment, just so that he can turn around, and at the sight of her, he is helpless to contain it. All the years of learned caution and fear succumb to the person inside of him who has been, for an entire lifetime, struggling to reach out. 

So he reaches out. Without calculation or hesitation, he reaches out, and his arms find their way around her shoulders, and he steps closer to her until her forehead just barely touches his chest. He’s tall enough that, even with his head bowed, he doesn’t touch the top of her head; his arms are long enough that they nearly encircle her completely. His heart beats its quick and frantic rhythm, and he doesn’t bother attempting to push back the tears that spring to his eyes.

It is only when it is done that he realizes exactly what he’s doing- he trembles at the sudden proximity, the proximity that he has caused,and his muscles start to tense again, though he stays frozen in space. This is wrong! A voice beats and screams in the back of his head-wrong! and he his breath escapes him in almost a hiss- but he wants it! Something in him wants this proximity, demands to know why he can’t have this. There’s a tremor in his shoulders, and the air feels thin- and he recognizes his expectation; with a sucking black hole of dark and yawning certainty, he tenses and waits for her to push him away as he battles with himself- why can’t I be close to a friend?

Have you forgotten what you are? Is she only your friend?

His eyes clench shut, and gasps as he chokes on the sob at the back of his throat. He is fixed, paralyzed in the wake of his hasty decision. He can only wait for what he knows is the same inevitable rejection that has pushed him into himself in the first place. She doesn’t owe him this- and if he were stronger, less selfish, he would back away and send her home to Sweden this moment. 

“Jag är ledsen,” he chokes, his voice utterly transformed from a few moments ago. Despite his words, his arms remain around her. 

---

CHRISTINE

From the first night they met, she has thought of Erik as a kind of angel. To Christine, there’s no other comparison that could be drawn in such heartfelt lines; no deeper possible expression of her wonder and gratitude. How else could she ever describe it? To have this remarkable person come into her life at a time she least expected it, offering help just when she needed it most. If one of the angels from her childhood stories had manifested itself in front of her, wings and all, its appearance could hardly have seemed any more unlikely of a miracle than the simple chance of her and Erik’s paths having crossed.

After years of leaning on daydreams, Christine lets her head rest upon a shoulder that is utterly human—tense, uncertain, but solid and real where her brow presses gently against it—and knows that she would never trade it for one with feathers.

There are so many reasons for caution. Things that she is already aware of; things she may never learn; things that she could guess if she only allowed herself to try. They crowd at the back of Christine’s mind now, pooling like shadows in the depths of a cave—shrinking away from the radiance of her joy.

Her strained neck relaxes into Erik’s back as she senses the tension leave him, smearing tears between her face and his sweatshirt; the ridges of his scarred skin disappear beneath the heavy fabric, but the faintest hint of warmth seeps through, soothing the overwhelmed aching of her head. There’ll be time later to remember how complicated things actually are: time to worry—about him, and herself, and the past, and the future. For now, Christine finds all the reassurance she needs in the rise and fall of his back as he breathes: a reminder that she isn’t alone; that the wonder of this music has been real; that she has someone to *share* it with.

Then, just when things seem steadiest, they tip: Christine flinches at the sudden emptiness of the cold air against her cheek, her eyes opening in surprise as Erik steps away.

There’s just enough time to doubt herself; just enough time for her to gaze at the damp marks her tears have left on the back of his sweatshirt, as if she were a lost traveler trying to retrace her footprints—wondering what wrong turn had been taken; which path might yet lead back to safe ground. But as her friend turns around, facing her for the first time since they sang together, there’s no time to seek an answer—no need to even look for one, as one finds her on its own; enveloping her the way Erik’s wiry arms closing around her shoulders.

There’s a moment, a fraction of a second, as she stares wide-eyed into the front of the sweatshirt, in which Christine feels certain that she is about to speak. A reassurance; a question; a phrase of gratitude—she’s not sure which. When her mouth opens, though, all that comes out is a soft, stifled breath; a gentle sound caught somewhere between a gasp and a sigh. Somehow, it’s fitting: a word not devised or spoken by her mind (which runs in wild circles, still struggling to make sense of the black wall that has appeared hardly an inch from her face, and the gentle weight around her shoulders), but by her throat, her lungs, her heart itself. Like the silent syllables formed by her hands as they twitch upward, her arms lifting towards Erik in a way that could have been instinctive if it weren’t so *deliberate*.

Words don’t seem to belong in this moment any more than they had when they were singing—not even ‘hug’ itself, entirely wrong for the stiff, tremulous arms that encircle her.

Christine’s own arms fall limply back to her sides as her thoughts finally catch up with her, her hands curling, nails biting into her palms.

How many times has she wanted to hug him? How many times has Erik become overwhelmed by far less? Now, she can tell that he’s crying. Can hear it—can *feel* it, wrapped as she is in his dark shadow. This is the closest she’s ever been to him, closer than his boundaries had once seemed capable of bending; yet, even with the gap between them narrower than ever, there’s room for doubt. Christine tilts her head up, the tip of her nose brushing against the soft fabric of the sweatshirt, but gains only a useless glimpse of the underside of her friend’s jaw.

He shudders again, and she feels it as if it had reverberated through her own bones. His arms seem so terribly brittle; though he’s chosen to wrap them around her, can she be sure that it won’t frighten him—won’t *hurt* him—if she tries to do the same? Tears hit the back of Christine’s neck as she leans her forehead lightly against his chest again—taking no more than has already been given to her; risking no more than Erik himself has put at stake.

Waiting for him to push her away, she realises with a sudden, sickened jolt.

She’s been so careful, has tried so hard to be the friend that she thinks he wants—has done her best to avoid making him feel uncomfortable, or pressured, or any of the things that have seemingly caused him to distance himself from everyone else who has tried to be there for him.

But where has it gotten the two of them?

And who has she really been trying to protect?

She feels Erik draw a breath, the syllables rattling in his chest as he offers her a ragged apology. The only apology that she sees necessary is her own. But though her heart aches, Christine finds that she can’t force the words from her throat. Maybe they’ve been said too many times already; maybe they simply have no place here.

She has learned so much from Erik in their short time together. About singing, and music; language, and cats, and people. But maybe she should have paid more attention to the very first lesson of their friendship, that night in the airport when she accepted his offer to stay in Paris: that, even when the odds seem impossibly high, there are some risks worth taking.

In the shaking of Erik’s shoulders, she can feel the weight of the gamble he clearly believes himself to have made—a bet that she doesn’t intend to let him lose; as her arms once more begin to lift, Christine can only hope that her own fears are just as unfounded.

But, after all, sometimes there are angels.

Her hands slowly venture upward, hovering blindly in the air behind Erik’s back—tentative; gathering courage. But then, finally, her fingertips settle on his back. If she’d thought that Erik couldn’t possibly become any more tense, she’d been wrong. But despite the startled frisson that cuts through him, drawing another strangled noise from his throat, he makes no move to separate himself from her. And that’s enough: with a sudden unrestrained desperation, Christine’s arms tighten around corrugated ribs, her face turning to press itself against a chest that seems cushioned more by fabric than flesh.

It’s one thing to know that he is dangerously thin by looking at him; it’s another thing entirely to measure the terrifying extent of it within the span of her own arms: her embrace loosens almost instantly, as if in fear of breaking him, and she shifts her head away from the bruise that she has remembered too late—but she doesn’t pull away; doesn’t let him think that that was ever her intention. As her palms smooth gently across the ridges of his back, she only wants to hold him tighter—to soothe away all of the hurt that he has suffered, in the way that she knows only a hug can; to finally *be* held by this person who has become so important to her.

“Det är okej,” Christine says, finally making a concession to speech as Erik’s heart continues to beat frantically against her ear. “Det är okej, vännen.”

(illustration by rjdaae) ---

ERIK

As a child, Erik can remember slapping his mother’s hand away from his shoulder- rare as her affection was, it was better to not have it at all. He had distanced himself from touch, written it off as something childish that only weak people depended on. He knows somewhere that it has always been a survival instinct, but his reaction has not changed since childhood- contempt for any sentimentality in relationships.

It had been easier to cope with anger than to fear rejection. His mother’s drawn, pitying face- he hated looking at it nearly as much as she hated looking at his. Eventually, she had stopped attempting to touch him completely- a relief on both of their parts. He had given her the excuse she needed, and he had believed himself free of that need for physical affection.

In most ways, he has not grown from that belief in the decades he has spent away from his childhood home. And the sense of completion he feels with his arms around Christine threatens to bring that carefully constructed idea, the idea that he has cultivated for his own self-preservation for almost forty years, tumbling down around him.

It has been difficult, in the past, to regard himself as a member of the same species as others. It has been difficult to regard them as alive at all. There has always been a degree of selfishness attached to his survival. Depending on himself only has meant keeping others at arm’s length wherever possible. Khan’s presence in his life was the first chip in his armor.

He can feel the rhythm of Christine breathing down to his core. She is to him as the moon is to the tide; every small movement she makes pulls him along with her.

He is transfixed by every detail of her, down to the wisps of her hair that brush the backs of his hands. She is so steady, steadier than anything he’s ever held onto in his life.

His breathing shifts automatically in time with hers; for a moment, nothing exists other than the movement of her hand over his spine. Things are still, and quiet, and his mind is empty, won’t allow him to ruminate on what lines may be crossed here. The quiet murmur of her voice sets him at ease.

“Merci,” he says in response, his voice barely a whisper. There is nothing else to say- it’s like some sort of intoxication, being held like this. He doesn’t know what else to express to her, or how to even begin to say any of it, and his mind feels stuffed with cotton, too blurry for any reasonable thought process. Just for this moment, there is only quiet, and against every instinct, he finds himself wishing it could last forever. 

---

(Part 131)

The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 28 - 29

I honestly don’t know how it can get worse from here.

So they start the real official meeting that Rowan called in Rolfe’s office, and Aelin wastes no time making me want to rip my eyes out.

[Rowan’s] face—oh, gods, [Aelin]’d missed that harsh, unyielding face

Back to Ratlin (that’s what I’m calling it from now on) splooging I see. Great. Can’t wait for multiple paragraphs of Aelin busting a nut at the thought of Rowan’s peen while SJM insists these books have a plot.

Aelin decided she didn’t particularly give a shit who was watching and rose up on her toes to brush her mouth against [Rowan’s].

UHHH WHAT THE FUCK AELIN. THIS IS AN IMPORTANT MEETINGS THAT’LL DETERMINE IF ROLFE JOINS YOUR WAR EFFORT OR NOT YOU CAN’T JUST - oh forget it, I’ll just sound like a broken record.

[Aelin] just prayed she’d be able to warn Aedion before he ran into his father - who was now sitting two seats down from her, gawking at her as if she had ten heads. Gods, even the expression was like Aedion’s. How hadn’t she noticed that this spring in Wendlyn?

My monkey brain is having feels because I’m sucker for the “child is spitting image of their parent” trope..... bad monkey brain.

“And who would verify the word of a nineteen-year-old princess?” [Aelin] jerked her chin at the wax-sealed tube. “Murtaugh Allsbrook would. He wrote you a nice, long letter about it.” Rolfe picked up the tube, studied it, and chucked it in a neat arc—right into his rubbish bin. The thud echoed through the office.

LMAOOOOOO YOU GO ROLFE!!! SLAY THAT BITCH!!!! I mean considering all the shit Aelin put him through I don’t blame him not wanting to align with her.

Rolfe let out a low laugh. “The talk of young idealists and dreamers.” “The world,” Aelin said, “will be saved and remade by the dreamers, Rolfe.”

See, this is the kind of shit I would be getting excited about if this was a good series. Sounds like something straight of Les Mis. SJM can come up with some good quotes, but if I don’t care about the horrible characters and there’s no plot, why should I give a shit?

Aelin purred, “Do you want gold, Rolfe? Do you want a title? Do you want glory or women or land? Or is it just the bloodlust that drives you?”

Oh my god, SJM is a furry!

Looks like you bid on the wrong horse [Rowan],” Rolfe crooned. He flicked his eyes to Dorian. “What news did you receive?” But that wrong horse [Rowan] cut in smoothly, “There was none. But you’ll be glad to know your spies at the Ocean Rose are certainly doing their job. And that His Majesty is quite an accomplished actor.”

Jesus Christ this writing

Dorian said coldly, “For a petty grudge, you’d refuse to consider allying with us?” Aelin snorted. “I’d hardly call wrecking his shit-poor city and ships a ‘petty grudge.’”

T-this... this can’t be. I am reading Empire of Storms by SJM, right? Aelin? Having self awareness? In my SJM book? Well, it’s more likely... to never appear again.

Rolfe tells Aelin to go fuck herself and that scene ends, permanently establishing Rolfe as one of the few Well Written Characters. I want him, Darrow, Manon, and Gav to leave this shitty series and go forth to a better one.

Aelin hit the narrow hallway, a wall of muscle at her back and by her side, and faced another dilemma: Aedion.

I smell Aedion daddy issues angst over the horizon. Also, are the ‘walls of muscle’ supposed to be Rowan and... the other Fae??? God SJM stop jerking off to your own characters for 5 minutes please.

Aelin made it all of three steps down the hall when Gavriel said behind her, “Where is he?” Slowly, she looked back. The warrior’s tan face was tight, his eyes full of sorrow and steel.

Damn, I just feel really bad for Gav. Keep in mind I don’t remember why he left Aedion (if it was revealed previously) but I’m hoping SJM actually uses him and makes him a good father, this series is severely lacking in good parental figures.

But Aelin sucked on a tooth

“You don’t get to decide when and where and how you meet him,” Aelin said. “He’s my gods-damned son. I think I do.”

Nooo SJM I’m begging you I like Gav please don’t make him a toxic fuckboi pleeeeeease

Aelin just tells Gav not to order her around and that scene ends...? Okay. I hope SJM is implying Gav calmed down and respected his son’s boundaries. I just want one character to stay good and pure and to be a good father is that too much to ask.

Later Aelin goes to have a chat with Dorian.

“It seems you and I are currently without crowns, thanks to a few bullshit pieces of paper.” Dorian didn’t return her smile. The stairs groaned beneath them as they headed for the second floor. They were almost to the room Dorian had indicated when he said, “Maybe that’s a good thing.”

I mean, Dorian, you seem like a good king who would fight to defend his people. You deserve to be king. But Aelin? Yeah if she was queen her kingdom would be already burnt to the ground, so you’re half right.

They have another meeting where Rowan/Dorian share more information about the witches.

“Manon Blackbeak,” Aedion mused, “would be a valuable ally, if we can get her to turn.”

NO NONO NO NO KEEP MANON’S BEAUTIFUL SELF AWAY FROM AELIN’S CRUSTY ASS I’M BEGGING

It was never-ending, [Aelin] supposed while they dined that night on peppered crab and spiced rice.

Reading this as a Cape Bretoner was a mistake. Now I’m hungry for some good seafood..... mmmm, battered fish and chips.....

And [Aelin] was to be given nothing more than obscure commands by long-dead royals to find a way to stop it, nothing more than gods-damned months to rally a force against him.

Gods-damned is a stupid word and SJM should feel bad for abusing it. Aelin decides to make sure Rolfe’s hand maps work and the chapter ends. Next!

Too many animals loitering about the streets at this hour would attract the wrong sort of attention. But Aedion still wished that the shifter was wearing fur or feathers compared to … this.

Greaaat are we gonna get Aedion slut shaming Lysandra? Just what I wanted....

He glanced at the delicate gold chain dangling around Lysandra’s pale throat, tracing its length down the front of her bodice, to where the Amulet of Orynth was now hidden beneath. “Admiring the view?” Aedion snapped his eyes up from the generous swells of her breasts. “Sorry.”

The only reason Lysandra is wearing the Amulet is so Aedion can drool over her boobies. I’m right and you all know it.

“Rowan claimed Rolfe would find the amulet interesting enough to go after it.” “Rowan and Aelin have a tendency to say one thing and mean something else entirely.” Aedion heaved a breath through his nose.

Aedion actually criticizing Aelin?? What the fuck is going on??

Lysandra gets pissy when Aedion points out she’s tired. Not even to condescend towards her, he’s actually concerned, so calm down, Lysandra. We get an ““““explanation”“““ for Lysandra’s shifting powers.

Each shift took something out of Lysandra. The bigger the change, the bigger the animal, the steeper the cost. Aedion had witnessed her morph from butterfly to bumblebee to hummingbird to bat within the span of a few minutes. But going from human to ghost leopard to bear or elk or horse, she’d once demonstrated, took longer between shifts, the magic having to draw up the strength to become that size, to fill the body with all its inherent power.

Better than nothing, but... how does shifting into bigger animals exhaust her but shifting into smaller animals doesn't? Each time the mass of her body is changing, so shouldn’t shifting in general exhaust her? Btw, read Animorphs, it’s a great gritty series that deals with shifting powers way better.

Aedion, however, stiffened slightly as those steps grew closer, and he found himself staring at the son of his great enemy. King, now.

This is confusing as fuck. Stop referring to Dorian as king and use his name so we can understand who Aedion is staring at, thank you.

[Aedion] reined in his scowl as he said to the king, “So, you and Whitethorn didn’t kill each other.” Dorian’s brows scrunched. “He saved my life, nearly got himself burned out to do it. Why should I be anything but grateful?”

Great, now we have to add Rowan splooging that isn’t from Aelin to the list.

He did not resent what she had been, what she portrayed now, only the monsters who had seen the beauty the child would grow into and taken her into that brothel. Aelin had told him what Arobynn had done to the man she’d loved. It was a miracle the shifter could smile at all.

What the fuuuuck why is Aedion portrayed as ~noble and amazing~ for not judging Lysandra based on her past? It’s common human decency to not judge people for things out of their control!! Does SJM not understand how humans operate?

Aedion tells Dorian to fuck off and he leaves, and Lysandra gets understandably irritated by Aedion being a dick.

“He stabbed Aelin. If you knew him as I have, you wouldn’t be so willing to fawn over—”

1. Dorian was, to my memory, being controlled by a demon thing when he stabbed Aelin. He was not in his right mind, and did not have control over himself. Stop holding that over his head, you prick.

2. Aedion you were an asshole too! You tripped Dorian and sent him falling into a thorn bush when you two were walking in HOF. You fucking judgemental asshole, I cannot believe I ever liked you.

Aedion’s like “b-but he was an arrogant kid” and Lysandra, being voice of reason, is like “Um, we all were as kids Aedion, including Aelin” and we litERALLY GET THIS

“I don’t care if he was as arrogant and vain as Aelin, I don’t care if he was enslaved to a demon that took his mind. I look at him and see my family butchered, see those tracks to the river, and hear Quinn tell me that Aelin was drowned and dead.” His breathing was uneven, and his throat burned, but he ignored it.

JESUS TAP DANCING CHRIST. Okay, I’m not saying Aedion isn’t wrong to be weary of Dorian after what happened to his family at the hands of Dorian’s father but this is literally Aedion going “It’s only okay to be a dick if it’s Aelin! Everyone else is a bad ruler and should bow down to her uwu”

FUCKING HELL. I’m willing to bet if it had been Aelin mind controlled, Aedion would be jumping through hoops to justify her actions and convince everyone she couldn’t help herself. Assdion has no character outside of being a dick and kissing up Aelin’s ass. I fucking hat this character almost as much as I hate Aelin.

Aedion braced his palm against the wall again and leaned in to glower in [Lysandra’s] face. She did not yield an inch. “There is an order and rank in our court, lady, and last I checked, you were not number three. You don’t give me commands.”

(...) And the last I checked…” She poked his chest, right between his pectorals, and he could have sworn the tip of a claw pierced the skin beneath his clothes. “You weren’t pathetic enough to enforce rank to hide from being in the wrong.“

*Mortal Kombat voice* FINISH HIM

His blood sparked and thrummed. Aedion found himself taking in the sensuous curves of her mouth, now pressed thin with anger.

W.....

YOU TWO ARE ARGUING AND ASSDION SUDDENLY HAS A BONER OVER HER MOUTH. HOW THE FUCK IS THIS HEALTHY IN ANY SHAPE OR FORM. This is nearly as bad as the “kissing a spouse during an argument instead of solving the problem” trope.

By the way, Aedion is demoted to Assdion. Aelin to Alien, and Rowan to Rowboat. I hate these characters so much.

Lysandra backed away a step, too casual to be anything but a calculated move. But Aedion tried—for her sake, he tried to stop thinking about her mouth—

WHAT THE FUCK DOES SJM THINK ALL MEN ARE HORNDOGS WHO WANNA FUCK 24/7?? This is an incredibly upsetting and inaccurate stereotype! It’s not goddamn hard to not think with your dick for five seconds jfc

Too soon—she wouldn’t want a man’s touch for a long time. Maybe forever. And he’d be damned if he pushed her into it before she wanted to.

Are you sure about that? Because a minute ago you were nearly cumming at the thought of her mouth.

Subject changes and Assdion asks if his father wanted to see him.

“[Gav] nearly bit Aelin’s head off when she refused to tell him where and who you are.” Ice filled [Aedion’s] veins. If his father had been rude to her—“But I got the sense,” Lysandra quickly clarified as he tensed, “that he is the sort of male who would respect your wishes if you chose not to see him.

*sniffles* Gav deserves to be a good father.

“What would you do?” “I can’t answer that question. My own father…” She shook her head. He knew about that—the shifter-father who had either abandoned her mother or not even known she was pregnant. And then the mother who had thrown Lysandra into the street when she discovered her heritage. “Aedion, what do you want to do? Not for us, not for Terrasen, but for you.”

I would be having feels and starting to ship them had we not had a whole scene dedicated to Assdion being a dick and nearly kissing Lysandra without her consent sooooo

[Aedion] bowed his head a bit, glancing sidelong at the quiet street again. “My whole life has been … not about what I want. I don’t know how to choose those things.”

A little late there to make me feel sympathetic towards Assdion, SJM. You CANNOT have Assdion act as an Aelin worshiping prick and then turn around and expect me to feel bad for him.

Assdion asks Lysandra to come with him to meet his father the next day and then splooges about how much he apparently cares about Lysandra.  I don’t care.

From the shadows of his hood, he monitored the alley ahead, the shadows and shafts of moonlight, bracing himself. They’d picked the dead-end alley for a reason. The girl realized her mistake a step too late. “Oh.”

The girl is Rolfe’s barmaid. She immediately leaves and they suspect she’s Rolfe’s spy. Finally, I am free from this god awful chapter.

Has Anyone Heard of The Left/Right Game?

by NeonTempo

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 (Final)

Hi Guys,

Firstly, I want to apologise for not being at my laptop for the past few days. I had to attend a wedding in Scotland for one of my uni friends. They booked it in mid-week and, between you and me, I don’t think it’s going to last which means not only have I neglected you guys, but I’ve also wasted money on a rental suit and a John Lewis tea set.

As always thank you for your help in my ongoing attempt to find Alice. I’m now in full contact with the radio show she was working for, and they’ll be sending over Rob’s submission to the show as soon as they can. I’ve also looked up every town named Jubilation and have contacted residents from each of them. None of them have the particular junction mentioned in the previous log, “Sycamore Row” and “Acer Street”. I even combed google maps to make sure. I’m not sure what town Alice passed through last February but it doesn’t seem to exist on public record.

The guy who promised to retrace the route from the mirror shop came through, and has sent me a few possible addresses for Rob. He also mentioned looking into the game itself more. I’m not sure what he means by that but I want to be clear, please don’t play this game on my behalf. I don’t want that on my conscience.

Ok, without further ado, here’s the following log.

Thanks again.

The Left/Right Game [DRAFT 1] 10/02/2017

(Possible Opening) (I want to address you, the listener, for a moment, with an advance notice concerning the following episode. I’m sure it’s not been lost on you that every installment of the series so far has played host to some strange, unexplainable occurrence, and spanned a great many miles of travel. It goes without saying this has been by design. I’ve been summarising the countless hours of uneventful meandering and taking extra care to document the strange phenomena we’ve encountered along the way. I wanted the story to be fast moving, to have a real feel of progress with every chapter.

If that sense of exploratory intrigue is why you’re listening to this show, I completely understand. I’m certain it’s a primary draw for almost all of you; the twists, the turns, the mysterious, strange encounters along an impossible road.

But if that is the case, I feel it’s my duty to inform you that, apart from a few notable exceptions, there will be almost no ground covered in this segment, and the monsters we encounter will be all too human; stress, divisiveness, discomfort and, as one might imagine, grief.

If you want to read the synopsis of this episode on the website and wait for the next part, then you’ll be all caught up and I’m sure we’ll be back on our way, heading once more into the great unknown. But I feel it’s important to give the aftermath of Ace’s capture its own episode, in part due to the significance of the revelations that are unearthed in its wake, but also as a gesture of deference to the man we lost.

This is the story of our second night on the road.)

As we make the left turn, the horrifying space behind us is quickly replaced by a quiet emptiness ahead. The Wrangler crawls, defeated, toward the waiting convoy. The remaining four cars are parked haphazardly, taking up more than half the road. Rob drifts to the far end of the tarmac, looking to overtake and resume formation. Both of his hands rest on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on some distant point in space. It’s not hard to imagine that behind the focus and the quiet control, there’s a man in turmoil, a man who can’t bring himself to say anything, in fear of saying too much.

AS: This is Bristol to all cars. We’re heading back on the road. Get yourselves in formation and make way for those around you. We’ve got a while to drive before we stop for the night.

LILITH: Bristol where’s Ro… Ferryman?

AS: Ferryman’s here.

APOLLO: Where’s Ace?

AS: Ace is… Ace didn’t make it across.

APOLLO: Uhh what?

LILITH: What the fuck? Bristol where is he?

It would be simple to describe what had taken place, or at least summarise the barest facts; what happened to Ace, where he is now, why he isn’t coming back. But for some reason, I can’t utter a word about what's transpired. Something about the event itself makes it impossible to retell, as if the requisite phrases have been locked behind glass.

AS: We need to get to the stopping point. It isn’t safe to stay here.

Shortly after we’d turned the corner out of Sycamore Row, Rob implied that the rest of the days’ drive would be uneventful. Had he waited just a few minutes longer, he would have been entirely correct. We’re on the road for another four hours, both of us quietly attending to our own preoccupations as the forest gradually thins out. The landscape gives way to rolling cornfields, that stretch out beyond the horizon on both sides.

Nothing notable happens, which is ironic, as I find myself typing up a lot more notes than I need.

With the sun descends through an orange sky as we pull into a clearing, beside a wild grove of apple trees. Rob turns off the ignition and the two of us sit in silence. Rob’s need to concentrate on driving had been a good excuse to stay quiet, a good excuse to not face each other. Now the wheels aren’t turning however, and the true reason for our mutual reticence is all too clear.

AS: Do you think he’s dead?

ROB: I don’t know.

Rob’s response isn’t reassuring, and I’m oddly grateful for that. There are no comforting words he can give me, and any attempt would have seemed horrifically insincere, a mockery of the situation’s onerous gravity. Anyway, given the circumstances of Ace’s capture, I’m not even sure which answer I want to hear.

Lilith appears at my window, rapping her knuckles against the glass with an aggressive impatience. I’d expect nothing less about now. Everyone in the convoy has been made to follow a unilateral order, my order, without explanation. They’ve been travelling for hours accompanied by the glaring absence of another human being. Looking in the wing mirror, I glimpse the rest of the convoy, standing by their cars, watching the Wrangler expectantly.

Rob’s hands still haven’t left the wheel.

With a sharp intake of breath, I push the door open and step out onto the grass. The ground is soft below me as I walk over to the group. There’s recently been rain. I begin to address the rough semicircle, it almost feels like one of Rob’s briefings.

EVE: What’s happening Bristol?

APOLLO: Did Ace turn back?

I meet Apollo’s eye. For the briefest of moments, I consider telling them all exactly that. Maybe it would save them from the slow, heavy ache that’s currently weighing down my chest. Maybe it would just save me from a difficult conversation. Either way, I know I can't lie to them. They deserve the truth, however unpleasant.

AS: No he didn’t turn back; they crippled his car.

LILITH: The tow truck? Did he get out?

The answer doesn't come easily. I’m being pressed to say the words aloud and, in doing so, to fully acknowledge what happened. It feels like I’m being driven to a funeral, like I’m being verbally marched towards an open casket.

EVE: What happened to him?... Bristol…

ROB: He’s dead, Eve.

I hadn’t heard Rob step out of the car when he reaches the group. It’s hard to hide my relief as he takes over proceedings, addressing the group matter-of-factly. Now it really is like one of his briefings.

ROB: Two guys in the tow truck coming outta Jubilation. They got him. They took him back with them to the town. Way they were treatin’ him he won’t last long.

BONNIE: Oh goodness…

EVE: What? Rob what’re they going to do to him?

ROB: I can’t tell you. Nothing like this ever happened before.

LILITH: Well we need to go back.

ROB: That ain’t gonna happen.

LILITH: We’re not going to fucking abandon him.

AS: Lilith…

LILITH: We’re going back!

ROB: No we’re not.

APOLLO: Me and Rob can go. You know the place right Rob?

ROB: The kid’s dead Apollo.

LILITH: But he was alive when you last saw him?

ROB That’s right.

LILITH: So what point did you decide he was dead?

ROB: When I saw him being carried away with a fucking tow hook sticking out his mouth! Goddamn it.

Rob shouldn’t have said that. I understand his reasons of course; he wants to convey an important truth, that nothing can be done, or could have been done, to save Ace. His ghastly choice of words does the job, but it also sends a ripple of disturbance through the crowd, planting in everyone’s minds the gruesome image I’ve been trying all day to uproot.

Bonnie covers her mouth in shock and sorrow. Eve turns noticeably pale, and even Lilith, who is intent on leading the questioning, is taken aback.

LILITH: Did… did you see this Bristol?

I nod solemnly. The group bristles at my affirmation.

AS: I saw enough. I had to close my eyes when it happened, Rob tried to save him until…

Before I can finish my statement, my words are cut off by something truly unexpected. In spontaneous response to my words, a harsh outburst of mocking, sarcastic laughter rings out from within the convoy. One by one, we turn towards its source, until we all find ourselves staring at Bluejay. Her unapologetic chuckling fills the silent night air.

AS: Is something funny, Bluejay?

Bluejay tries to speak through her, all too slowly, waning laughter.

BLUEJAY: It’s just… you call yourself a journalist… Hah you closed your eyes, my god… there it is! There it is.

AS: I’m sorry?

BLUEJAY: Do you close your eyes for magic tricks too?

EVE: What the fuck Bluejay?

APOLLO: Come on, this isn’t the time.

BLUEJAY: Oh the time is well fucking overdue. Seriously are you all morons? The Left/Right Game is a hoax. It’s fake! Rob Guthard’s played you all like fucking children! Ace is fine, he’s probably an actor! Like the hitchhiker was an actor and those towns people too. I mean, come on.

The group is taken aback by Bluejay’s incredulous tirade. She’s clearly been holding her tongue since day one; our reaction to Ace’s capture representing just one step too far.

AS: I saw Rob shoot one of those townspeople with a hunting rifle. I saw the wound. It was real.

BLUEJAY: It was a blood filled squib. The rifle was probably loaded with blanks. You can buy both from any good theatrical retailer. Seriously what the fuck is wrong with you people?

LILITH: Ok firstly, I don’t like your fucking tone. Secondly, have you noticed that we’ve been the only cars on the road for almost two days? And what about Jubilation? Are you suggesting Rob hired out a whole town? That would be fucking impossible.

BLUEJAY: Oh yeah sure, THAT’S impossible, but it’s totally believable that we’re driving on a magic road. Maybe this is the highest budget scam I’ve ever seen but that’s all it is, a scam. And Al Jazeera here is giving him all the publicity he wants. I mean these people are sheep but you, you’re a fucking sycophant.

My mother used to tell me that you can’t strike a person from the high road. Staring down the barrel of Bluejay’s darkly self-satisfied grin, I’m more than tempted to make the descent.

AS: Ok Bluejay fair enough. I’m not going to pretend to know what’s going on here, for all I know you could be right. But why would Rob spend the production budget of a Hollywood film to trick a radio journalist and two vloggers. Trust me, our website does not get enough traffic for-

BLUEJAY: Oh don’t be so self-important. It’s not YOU he’s trying to fool.

Bluejay turns to Rob, fixing him a glare of pure, unadulterated triumph.

BLUEJAY: Admit it Rob. Admit that this is all a fucking farce. Admit that you knew who I was before I even got out of my car.

Rob’s face looks like it’s been carved from granite. The group looks to him for an answer, but he delivers his response directly to Bluejay, his eyes locked with hers.

ROB: It’s true… … I know who you are Denise.

The atmosphere changes, and for a moment, the night erupts into a foray of whispers. Rob’s answer clearly means something to everyone but me.

EVE: Denise?

LILITH: Denise Carver?

APOLLO: No. You serious?

AS: Sorry, who’s Denise Carver?

LILITH: She’s the biggest killjoy in the hobby.

BLUEJAY: Oh fuck you, you fucking air-head.

ROB: Denise here is a member of the Skeptics and Rationalist Institute of America. She likes to get herself invited on ghost hunting expeditions under a false name so she can debunk them publicly. You may've gathered she don’t believe in the supernatural.

BLUEJAY: Actually I do believe in the supernatural. I believe that it’s a billion dollar industry built on selling comfortable lies to the gullible, and it thrives on shitty journalists and attention whore bloggers who are willing to spread whatever shit they think will get them clicks.

AS: That’s why you took so long getting around the pine tree. Even when the truck was coming for Ace. You didn’t think any of it was real.

BLUEJAY: Uhh… did you?

As condescending as her delivery may be, her words spark a sudden realisation. It’s true, that with an unspeakably high budget and a few deft stooges, you could probably replicate most of what we’d seen on the road. Yet, without realising it, I’ve found myself agreeing with Rob’s version of events, personally defending the Left/Right Game’s validity against its decriers. I’d set off on this journey much like Bluejay, as a staunch, confident skeptic, but somewhere between the tunnel and this moment, I’d become a believer.

Bluejay notes my lack of protest, and turns back to Rob.

BLUEJAY: I’m flattered you went to all this trouble. I didn’t know my work was so offensive to you.

ROB: I admire your work Denise. Always have. That’s why I brought you along.

BLUEJAY: That is bullshit. Tell your friend Ace he can’t act for shit.

Bluejay pulls a pack of Marlboros out of her coat, lighting up immediately, and goes to sit on the hood of her nearby car. Her demeanour clearly signals that her part in the conversation is over, though her words leave a bitter aftertaste for everyone involved. To sympathise, it must be exhausting, spending two days with people whose opinions are diametrically opposed to your own, having to listen in silence while they corroborate their own seemingly preposterous views. Having said that however, I’m incredibly glad she’s stopped talking. It reminds me of a time when we got on much better.

The next question comes from Eve, her voice quivering.

EVE: Can… can we die here Rob?

The quiet force of her words turn everyone’s heads back towards Rob. It’s clear that others have been thinking the same thing, and they’re looking to Rob for an answer.

ROB: It’s possible. The road ain’t ever killed no one before. Not so long as everyone followed the rules.

LILITH: But you said in your emails it was dangerous.

ROB: That’s right.

LILITH: But you didn’t feel like telling us that we could die out here?

Rob turns to Lilith, clearly offended by her accusation.

ROB: In the 1920’s Jon Ebenrow killed 36 people and violated their bodies. In one of your videos, you guys went to his home in Virginia looking for the man’s ghost. Bonnie & Clyde once spent $500 to stay at the Iowa Murder House, a place that’s supposed to possess its victims and force’em to kill each other.

ROB: If you all honestly believed in what you were chasing, you should be accepting death as an outcome every time you step out. We are looking for evidence of another world. What we’re doing here has the scientific significance of the moon landings, the cultural significance of Columbus reaching the Americas and a whole lot of people died doing both. If you accepted the risk chasing down the ghost of a two-bit serial killer, you should be willing to accept the risk for this.

Lilith looks like she’s been scolded by a parent. There’s a fire in her eyes as she observes Rob, meeting his criticism with scorn.

LILITH: Oh so it’s Ace’s fault? He should have “accepted the risk”?

ROB: He did accept the risk. Ace made his decisions. He saw the dangers of the road first hand and he kept on goin'. I told you this place could be dangerous, and maybe you didn’t take that seriously. But you are NOT gonna treat me like I lured any of you here under false pretenses.

We stand for a few moments in the uncomfortable void left by Rob’s words. No one’s quite sure where to look.

APOLLO: Well what do we do now Rob? Do we turn around?

ROB: I ain’t gonna make that decision for you. If you want to split off and head back, I suggest you wait till mornin’ and stagger your leavin’ times by an hour or so. I ain’t never seen nothin’ like what happened back there before, but this is the most people I ever played the game with. Maybe that’s doin’ somethin’.

AS: What do you mean by that?

ROB: Well it’s the only thing that’s changed. Truth is, this ain’t our world, by all rights we shouldn’t be here. Even when it's one car the road always tries to discourage you. Maybe it’s like bacteria in a vein. One or two might slip by unnoticed but once it hits a certain point it’s like a uh…

AS: Like an immune response. You think the road’s pushing back on foreign objects?

ROB: And the bigger the group-

AS: The more violent the response…

It makes sense, until Bluejay laughs once more. Hearing her reaction, I reassess what I'm saying and I can’t help but feel a little foolish at the idea.

ROB: Maybe. It’s just a theory... I don’t know.

Rob collects himself, regaining his composure.

ROB: Either way, you all have the morning to decide if you want to keep on the road. Bristol, if you want to go home, you gotta find someone to take you. I ain’t ready to head back yet.

He turns away from the group and marches to the Wrangler. I don’t see him again for the rest of the evening, and I have no intention of bothering him. Eve and Lilith immediately crowd around me, asking if I’m alright and taking it in turns to disparage Rob’s actions. I can’t bring myself to join in. All I can bring myself to say is…

AS: Can I charge my phone in your car?

The group has very little to say for the rest of the night. A deep solemnity hangs in the air, dampening any semblance of good cheer like wet leaves on a dwindling fire. No one offers any conversation, Apollo’s reservoir of quips has run dry. Everyone’s wondering where they’ll be going from here, pondering the sort of person they are in circumstances such as this. Do they press on towards danger, or back towards safe and familiar ground. It’s a question they’ll have to figure out for themselves, ideally before sunrise.

I already have questions of my own.

About an hour after Rob’s departure, bidding fair well to the rest of the group, I walk over to Lilith and Eve’s car. My bag is resting on the front seat, a black wire leading inside from the charging port. I’ve decided not to tell the pair that I’ve been charging the detonator for a military grade explosive less than ten metres away from them. Perhaps it will come out during broadcast. If you’re listening to this, sorry girls.

I pick up my bag and, checking that no one’s looking, make a beeline for the apple grove. I march through the small wood, the air growing still, the sounds of the convoy quickly fading behind me. In the late evening darkness, with the moon shrouded by legion of crooked trees, I’m puzzled that I’m not more afraid. I’ve seen what happens on this road and, as I pass through the grove and into the neighbouring field, intentionally isolating myself from the rest of the group, I'm quite aware that help won’t be coming for me. Even so, as the corn rises up in every direction around me, I find myself almost incapable of fear. The day's events have drained me of emotion, and I'm now with everything else pulled away, I’m left with only one driving directive; an overpowering urge to figure this road out, regardless of what that entails.

Judging the distance I’ve traveled to be acceptably out of range from the convoy, I take the block of C4 out of my bag and place it on the ground. Gritting my teeth, my body cringing with self-inflicted dread, I press the power button on the Nokia and wait for something to happen. My worries of instant disintegration are allayed slightly as the grainy image of two outstretched hands comes into view, swiftly replaced by a menu screen.

I work fast, the words on the brown paper package constantly reminding me of what I’m putting at risk with every passing second.

Firstly, I type my number own number into the phone, assuming, or at least hoping, that the mechanism isn’t activated by outgoing calls. A few seconds later my cell phone rings, giving me the Nokia’s number. Checking the call logs, I find a second, different number, which seems to have made a call to the phone three times in quick succession. If I were a betting woman, which I sometimes am, I’d suggest that this number belongs to whoever built the bomb, the calls representing an attempt to test the trigger prior to its implementation. If I’m right, then this should be the personal number of whoever was driving that crashed car.

My third discovery, is a little bit more puzzling. No texts have been sent from this phone, however there is one solitary message residing in the phone’s inbox. It’s from a third, separate number, and it reads thus:

“Please don't do this Rob.”

I stare at those four words, the new information grating uncomfortably against my already preconceived theories. If this text is to be believed, and my previous deductions are at all accurate, then that means Rob Guthard was driving the car. That the C4 in the trunk had belonged to him. All this time I thought Rob may have been responsible for something terrible, but what if he was run off the road himself? If that is the case, it leads to an entirely new question… who was responsible for his crash?

As I begin to think it over, the air explodes around me.

I’m jolted out of my examination by a powerful, echoing voice which reverberates the very air. The corn is thrown into a frenzy as the noise echoes from every direction, as if spoken by the air itself.

VOICE: I’ve watched you questioning.

Without a second’s hesitation, I turn off the Nokia and throw the block into my bag. I jump to my feet and scan the cornfield for whoever spoke the words, backing away towards the convoy. Suddenly, realising how far I am from my friends, I break into a run, my boots pounding the dirt as I flee back to the woods.

Less than a minute later I burst out through the trees, my bag swinging with the weight of the block. Everyone’s in their cars, seemingly fast asleep. I’m starting to think they’re onto something. With no one to talk to, and a long day ahead of me, I suppose there’s no further recourse but to catch my breath, write up my immediate thoughts and then, finally, get some much needed rest.

I feel a dull pressure behind my eyes as I step towards the Wrangler. Quietly opening the back door next to my sleeping area, I carefully hide the block under my luggage. Then, silently closing the door again, I wander around to the passenger side, where my notes are waiting to be typed.

I reach out and grab the handle, gripping it tightly. I don’t open the door. In fact, after a moment staring through the glass, I let go.

The pressure behind my eyes gives way, and before I know it I’ve slid down to the damp ground, my back against the cool, hard metal of the door. A whine catches in my throat as ugly tears stream down my cheeks. My breath shudders as I inhale, and my attempt to breathe out plays to the world as a quiet, declining sob. The tears take me by surprise but I don’t wipe them away. In a bittersweet way, they’re welcome, necessary even. They carry with them a familiar sense of heartrending release. By the time they’ve run dry, I feel like I might just be able to move on from the events of the day. The sounds in my head are just a little quieter now I’ve paid them their due.

BONNIE: Are you ok honey?

I’m picking myself up when I see Bonnie walking carefully over to the Wrangler. I brush myself off, a little embarrassed at being caught.

AS: I didn’t know you were awake.

BONNIE: I’m a light sleeper, and Martin… Clyde snores. Do you need someone to talk to?

AS: I think I just need to sleep. Thanks Bonnie.

BONNIE: My name’s Linda, if you’re wondering.

AS: … Alice.

BONNIE: That’s a beautiful name. Well Alice, I know I don’t talk much, but I know how to listen… if you ever want me to.

For the first time since the pine fell, I find myself smiling. It’s a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless.

AS: Thank you Linda. I might take you up on that. Have a good night.

BONNIE:** Have a good night.

Bonnie starts to walk back to the car, before pausing and turning round. One last piece of comfort to offer.

BONNIE: And remember, everything will all be alright once we get to Wintery Bay.

I frown a little, unsure what Bonnie means. She smiles back blankly, then resumes the path back to her car. She’s mentioned that place before, upon leaving Jubilation, in what seemed like a moment of idle reminiscence. How she mentioned it just now doesn’t seem like reminiscence at all.

After everything that’s gone on, all the suspicion I’ve been directing at Rob, all my worry for Ace. Is something the matter with Bonnie?

Perhaps I’m misunderstanding, perhaps Bonnie misspoke, but all the same, the brief comfort her words afforded me has already faded away, leaving a familiar feeling of confusion and paranoia in its place.

I let myself into the passenger side, type up a few pressing notes and then climb through onto the air mattress. Sleep doesn’t come easily. I close my eyes and try to convince myself that tomorrow will be better than this harrowing day. Yet every time I make that particular argument, a voice in my head responds:

“That may depend on which way you turn.”

About 4000 (I am so sorry) Words Concerning Films that Helped Define My Existence

Ah, movies. So much in one package. Story, music, visuals, what’s not to love? Today I shall be elaborating on the most noteworthy films in the thrilling ever-changing saga that continues to be my life. Screenplay alongside a screenplay, if you will (please take this statement as modestly as you can).

The first ever thing in my entire life that I remember being an avid and enthusiastic fan about was the original Star Wars saga, written and directed by George Lucas, spanning May 1977 (A New Hope) – May 2005 (Revenge of the Sith).

As mentioned in the podcast and as you may be able to tell from said podcast, I can’t really pinpoint an exact point in my life where I was introduced to it as it was kinda integrated into my upbringing from the get-go—and due to this it’s a very near and dear franchise to me. And oh boy fun fact my first ever childhood crush was Luke Skywalker (I vividly recall my uncle asking why I had his page bookmarked haha). I remember it was something that I would always watch with my dad and or grandpa, and then when I couldn’t find the VCR set that we had for it, I officially commenced my illicit streaming career (not really though, I didn’t get very far. Only crappy 20-minute clips on YouTube). Star Wars for me was the first thing that I actively sought out stuff for or showed genuine interest in pursuing if that makes sense. Like, you’d watch whatever movies or shows were thrown at you and you never thought much of them. Ohoho not Star Wars, though, that one lasted years. My cousin and I would always bring our little action figures to play with whenever we visited—or we’d find long-ish sticks in the backyard and have lightsaber fights, I got the video games, posters, Lego sets of ships (X-wing and Y-wing to be exact), an entire encyclopedia that I still own to this day (I just checked and there’s a date written inside, April 9th 2010 (which is my 7th birthday)), and of course inspiration for my own art and such. I remember I made this magazine that was essentially just me redrawing pages from the guidebook I had. I still have it, too! Sitting at the bottom of a drawer right now. Also, later on for some reason I absolutely loved drawing Ashoka Tano. Over and over again man. I drew her taking up my cousin’s entire driveway in chalk once.

Not only are the Star Wars films a nostalgic and comforting series, but it held onto its marvel throughout the. Wow well over 10 whole years, I’m getting old. Additionally, because at the time we didn’t have as much access to the things we can achieve with modern technology, I was basically all on my own with it. I fueled my own fascination. And shockingly, not a lot of people in my elementary school (up until maybe grade 6-7) showed much interest in it either. So it was pretty much just me myself and I, and occasionally my cousin whenever he visited, and I think that made it all the more special to me. Also, at the time I think it was geared way more toward kids. There weren’t series like The Mandalorian or active internet communities that were obsessed with the series as far as I was aware, so there wasn’t the same quantity of content nor overall enthusiasm around it. Nonetheless, it was and still is a very personal series due to how engrained it is into basically every aspect of my childhood. I’ll try not to be too repetitive with what I said in the podcast, but ultimately the clear nature of the franchise (attractive character designs, colours, setting in general (it’s an action-packed space adventure what’s not to love)) is what really made me latch onto it, and it kickstarted my interest in the very essence of media and understanding the film medium and what it has to offer. I remember asking how they got Jar Jar to exist on screen and he told me they made him out of CGI, and I interpreted that as they somehow made a real-life computer model out of him and that they were actually interacting with like a physical, solid hologram. Anyway, revisiting the franchise and diving into more of its intricacies now (like the production diaries) is like an absolute goldmine. There are so many aspects of it that 100% contributed to and nurtured my goals, passions, and ultimately who I am as a person. Here is some of my very recent art for good measure:

Up next up we got Lord of the Rings (dir. Peter Jackson, December 2001 – December 2003) or I guess a better way to put it would be those plus The Hobbit (December 2012 – December 2014) trilogy. I think it was earlier than the Marvel phase (which follows this section) because like Star Wars I can’t really remember my first viewing of it, but I definitely watched it all. It might’ve been around grade 3 so 2011-ish? Quick anecdote, one time I had a sleepover I was really excited for, and as we all know when you’re excited for something as a kid and it’s later on in the day, time doesn’t actually pass at all, and so my genius ass decided to flip on The Fellowship of the Ring and boom it was 5 pm and time to leave. Also my grandparents from my mom’s side of the family (they’re German so we call them oma and opa) were visiting once and my opa (grandpa equivalent) wanted to watch something so I was like “omg Lord of the Rings is perfect there are so many characters he can feel empowered by (Gandalf and Saruman because they’re old)”. Phenomenal logic—now thinking back it was probably much too violent for his tastes but yknow.

I love Lord of the Rings so much because it’s the true embodiment of an ideal fantasy story; there’s such pure character dynamics and personalities and Tolkien created such an incredibly solid world in which these stories take place. Man knew his stuff, and in turn provided a charming and utterly wonderful scape for young minds to roam free within. I was going to talk about this if I did my other culminating idea regarding masculinity within the media, but I have the perfect opportunity to do so here: something so great about said world is how sincere and genuine a lot of the male characters are (yknow minus people like Denethor and Alfred). Namely the fellowship, they all openly care for and are affectionate towards one another, something we rarely see between men both in modern media and in real life. Aragorn is a perfect example of someone owning and being comfortable in his masculinity. He is kind to and uplifts others, and communicates openly with them. He isn’t afraid of being intimate and vulnerable towards them, either. We see this in Boromir’s death scene. Aragorn doesn’t patronize him for trying to take the Ring, he consoles Boromir in his last moments and they treat each other with the utmost tenderness and respect—not callously or stiffly. Right after decapitating an orc, Aragorn is still able to run to his side, hold him, and kiss him on the forehead following his passing. Aragorn also isn’t afraid to share fame or glory, in fact he never seeks it out in the first place despite his lineage. It was at the battle of Helm’s Deep that he embraced that destine to be king, not out of lust for power, but because these people needed guidance and leadership and he could provide it for them. He elevates others in an incredibly positive and empowering way, especially Frodo and Éowyn, and is content with the fact that the story is not about him. Even at his own coronation, he directs every single person’s attention to the literal earth-saving feat that the hobbits have achieved in light of his own massive accomplishment. He is such a great role model to have been able to look up and aspire to be like, and I wish there were more characters and people like him.

I was a fan of those original films at an earlier point in my life, but the thing that brought that interest back a little stronger was undoubtedly the release of the Hobbit prequels. Like the Star Wars prequels, everyone can say what they want but they are very gorgeous to me. I skipped out on seeing Frozen with my class to go see The Desolation of Smaug with my dad and that was SUCH a good decision. Although, I’m rewatching them all now and Battle of the Five Armies kinda sucks at the beginning. They kill Smaug in like the first five minutes and like it wasn’t bad but it was very anticlimactic. I also don’t like how they shoved Legolas in there, his personality is really jaded and he’s kind of a big prick in those films. But it’s fine I love Martin Freeman and Richard Armitage and the rest of the dwarves the most. They were obviously the most significant and I like them a lot, and there are three movies as opposed to the one book so there’s even more content!

WHEW sorry about that anyway The Hobbit really was the revival/rekindling of that past love for Tolkien’s world. I also had a good close friend who was also along for the ride as well—being able to be into these things alongside someone is always fun and I’m grateful she was there and shared my same energy. She had the Lego game for that one, very similar free-roam concept as my Marvel one (coming up next), so we had lots of fun with that too. To reiterate, I am rewatching these movies again now as an older person with like an actual conscience, and my takeaway from them is vastly different on more of like… a philosophical level, I suppose. I appreciate the process of things more and the backstory behind Tolkien’s lore and the timeless characters and deeper meanings that he’s conceived. But that wouldn’t be very chronological of me to go into it here so moving on.

Proceeding next, around grade four at the most (so just after it came out), I watched The Avengers (dir. Joss Whedon, 2012). Not only did this single-handedly make my art convictions explode (in a good way), it also instigated my love for soundtracks (and also the entire Marvel universe but we’ll obviously be covering that very soon).

The Avengers was like an epiphany for me. Literally ground-breaking and earth-shattering. Changed my entire 10-year-old life. It was all that I ever wanted and more, and since it was around 2012-13 that I became aware of its existence, the internet community was blossoming with possibilities and content. That same friend liked it as well! My Avengers/Marvel phase definitely rivals my Star Wars phase; I think I watched The Avengers first, and then my dad was like “yeah ok you need to watch everything else now” and so henceforth Captain America and Iron Man and Thor. Those were very good times, and I actually remember experiencing all of them for the first time ever. The Christmas of 2013 was absolutely wild. I only got Marvel related gifts which was incredible at the time. My first ever ‘art of’ book was for the Avengers film, too! I also got an arc reactor shirt that actually lit up and I thought that was the absolute coolest thing ever, and then I remember I cut my tongue on this candy I was eating and my mouth bled profusely for a while. However the most iconic gift of all was my copy of Lego Marvel Superheroes for the PS3. I finished it in about 2 days, and it’s the only Lego game that I’ve gotten 100% completed progress on. I love that game dearly and still play it sometimes. The thing that I love specifically about it was the ability to free-roam the entirety of New York City as any character you wanted, me and that friend would do that exclusively for hours on end and make up our own stories with all the characters. Here is Galactus perusing the streets

Speaking of characters, this was the first thing that really got me making up and drawing a shit ton (apologies for lack of a better phrase) of original characters. I’d make superhero characters for me and my friend (ok I guess I should give her a name huh), Mackenzie, and even for random people in my class cause we needed to fill in some blanks in the stories we’d make. I’d create comics, write little stories, make variation after variation of these people we came up with, and of course like normal children me and Mackenzie would go to the park near my old house and pretend we were said characters. Man it was so fun. Then we’d do all those personality quizzes to find out which member you were most like. Mackenzie and I would do these quizzes on none other than our state-of-the-art BlackBerry playbooks. For me it was usually either Iron Man or Thor, and Mackenzie had this weird curse where she’d only ever get Loki as a result for anything at all which was very hilarious to me. Circling back to soundtracks, The Avengers OST was one of my first full album purchases. The main theme was my favourite track out of all of them for obvious reasons, but I still paid respects to all of them and listened to it often. Since I bought it with my dad’s Apple ID, it’d show up on the communal iPad that we used for music in the kitchen and I have full recollection of my grandpa playing it on blast in the morning to wake us up one time. I was aggravated at first but then when I realized what it was I was like ah yes of course. After the Avengers soundtrack, I got the Wolverine (2013) OST and that was fun but I didn’t like all the tracks in the same way, but THEN I got the Days of Future Past soundtrack. THAT is a good soundtrack AND a phenomenal film.

Anyway, after that I was a Marvel connoisseur for a little while. Like Star Wars I got an entire character encyclopedia, a bunch of comics, posters, you name it. My parents and sister also enjoyed dabbling in stuff too; we’d watch the animated series together on Netflix and eventually ended up seeing all the new movies together when they came out in theatres (except not my mom though cause she gets motion sickness from action films). Marvel was a staple in the adolescence stage of my life before I was introduced to anime (then it was all downhill from there (I am kidding anime was a part of my life that I look back at with great fondness)). It was reason for so much of what I explored with my art and my own imagination, and was one of my first experiences in what it was like to be a part of a fandom-esque community. There were also memes ripe for the picking when it came to Marvel; as one can assume I had no access to memes in kindergarten to grade 1 in the late 2000s. It was such a lovely and warm point in my life, something that established what kind of passion I really poured into something when I really liked it. And akin to Star Wars, there’s just so much to like about it. There’s so much to offer, an array of colourful characters and storylines—and of course, creative liberty when it came to superpowers and that whole narrative. The sky was literally the limit. Here is some of my ancient 2014 portraiture that I dug up for the sake of this assignment

Ok heads up we are now veering AWAY from childhood content and touching on a film that played a more personal part, namely during a very pivotal point, in my life. I picked up The Perks of Being a Wallflower (Stephen Chbosky, 1999) at a bookstore and read it at the speed of light; I was crying in my room on my bed by the time I finished it. I love how we see Charlie’s character change over the course of the novel, not only through what he describes or how he perceives things but his style of writing in general. Anyway, I wanted to read the novel first before I watched the movie (dir. Stephen Chbosky 2012), and I was pleasantly surprised by how accurate the movie is to the book (well duh the author directed it). I read/watched this right before I started high school, so I was kind of (but not really considering the built-up childhood trauma he has yikes) in the same position as the protagonist, Charlie, as he was starting out (minus a lot of the major aspects of his character and what he went/goes through (like drugs)). A lot of the things that he learns were really important takeaways for me before heading into that new chapter of life like he did.

Contrary to the title of the (I know it started out as a novel but I’m just gonna say film) film, you need to put yourself out there and advocate for yourself in life. It’s great to be a trustworthy individual whom everyone is vaguely aware of and likes, but you need to approach things with reason and make yourself known somehow. At the time, both before and during grade 9, and even still sometimes in the present (though I do it more deliberately now), I found myself just standing on the sidelines as life happened before me and I let it sweep me away without having any feet planted on the ground. It was like I wasn’t in control of it, and in turn I might’ve struggled in some areas more than I should have. I didn’t own anything, like I wasn’t totally present. Similar to Charlie, I was a person who’d always be there for others, someone people could talk to and confide in, and ultimately someone people truly enjoyed having around—which is pretty great. But I didn’t fully know my position or what I ultimately wanted in any of those situations. Don’t get me wrong, I am incredibly grateful for my entire freshman experience and I absolutely wouldn’t have wanted it any other way considering all personal circumstances, but with that foreknowledge of the importance of making a name for yourself, especially in high school, I think I was able to branch out with ease a bit more than I would have without it. I at least was aware of what was going on in that sense. That movie is really special to me because it ended up being a pseudo-mirror of my own experiences. Charlie’s English teacher, Bill, embraced his writing abilities and urged him to participate more, share his own thoughts, and express more of his personality by giving him books for extra reading. My first ever semester of Laurier did the exact same for me as Bill did for Charlie. It fostered my interests and intellectual abilities, and you guys constantly urged me and everyone else to go above and beyond what we were used to because you knew we could do it (even though I feel like I could’ve done a lot better on some things as my marks in grade 9 are a bit lower than I’d like them to be, but hey it was a time of adjustment and I did my best and that’s what matters). As a direct result of Laurier, I’m really lucky to have been surrounded by an amazing group of passionate students, a handful of which became my closest friends throughout high school, and that my very first teachers of the day were people who uplifted me and genuinely cared not only about furthering my academic work, but about my growth as a person.

Whew let’s wade out of the sap and get into some more energetic stuff!!! To tie off this recollection of my life through film the most recent and notable movie that impacted my life was, the one and only, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (dir. Peter Ramsey, Bob Persichetti, Rodney Rothman, 2018). Similar to The Desolation of Smaug and Frozen, I went with my dad to the cinema but parted ways with him to watch this movie by my lonesome (he went to the Aquaman theatre instead smh). Again, phenomenal choice. I talked about this in my grade 11 blog, but Spider-Verse is an absolute masterpiece in every way shape and form.

At the point I watched it, I knew what I wanted to generally do with my life (be part of the art industry) and the visuals of this movie alone were enough to make me want to elope with it and never see or talk to anyone ever again. It is such a gorgeous film. The way they strayed from the yucky 3D conventions norm—and there is literally no way they could’ve done the majority of what they did in that movie effectively if they did it live action. Or, they could definitely try and make an attempt, but it’d look like garbage. For example, a lot of the action scenes in general and also when they become abstracted like with the particle collider. 40-60 fps would not do that sense of movement justice at all. Too smooth. Not enough grit and personality.

Anyway, they also pioneered new animation techniques in mixing 2D and 3D, and explored a newer superhero trope where the main character’s own mundane life struggles are equally as important as him trying to sort things out with these new powers. It’s more of a battle between what Miles wants with his own personal life—new school, the friends he won’t be able to see because of said new school, owning his own abilities and adjusting to change. Then on top of that he’s met with all these alternate-dimension people that he has to work and be on par with. Aside from the art, I thought the overall message was every special: Miles learns through trial and tribulations, unsureness—and most importantly, failure. Confidence and optimism, in regard to what he thinks he can and can’t do, is vital. Amidst everything he is faced with, he starts out as just another kid who wants to be just another kid. But we all have something special inside us that we must choose to embrace if we want to truly flourish. We see him come to terms with the fact that he really is capable of greatness if he sets his mind to it—and that’s the main message: anyone can wear the mask. And can we talk about that soundtrack??? Not only the instrumentals, but the actual songs were great too! “Sunflower” and “What’s Up Danger”? Lovely and fitting. And back to the OST, the Prowler’s theme??? Shivers.

There is such a unique and beautiful vibe to this movie, and it’s inspired me in more ways than one. Aside from that nice motivational stuff, it also has recently played a tremendous part in developing my own art. All of the artists who worked on the film are people I immediately tried to find on social media so I could see more of their work. I purchased the art book, and even bought a 2D sequence illustration course provided by one of the art directors, Patrick O’Keefe. That course also came with the (digital) brushes he uses, and I’ve used them in pretty much every single one of my pieces since downloading them. This movie really showed me the possibilities of what could be achieved in the art industry, and it made me want to be a part of it so much more than I was before. I want to be involved in revolutionary visual achievements, and I want to develop characters and stories and worlds that are as interesting and loveable as the ones in Spider-Verse. (my stuff featured below)

So there you have it folks, 5 (five) of the most significant movies in my life relayed in a whopping just over 4000 words. I hope this has been enlightening for all you readers out there, perhaps you now have a better understanding of how I came to be personality/interest-wise, and I hope you can catch a glimpse of that same importance these pieces of media have in regard to me and my values.

Life with Dad

For Mental Health Week I thought it was only fitting to open up about my own life. I know I’m not the only person in this situation, but it’s not something that people talk about openly very often unless it’s to a best friend or someone you feel you can vent to without them giving you the sad puppy face or thinking you’re just a product of your environment. As a child and as an adult I always get the uneasy feeling that when people find out about my parents, they automatically think I might be a little out there, or I get the response, “Well I’m surprised you turned out this well”, or “Are you scared to have children?”, “Does that run in your family?” , “How violent is he?” I hate the stigma. I always say, ” I’m fine, they’re fine, we are all fine.” because after years of answering you realize its just more comfortable that way and who doesn’t prefer to stay in their comfort zone. Now anyone who knows me knows that that’s basically code for, “Please stop asking me questions.”  This is something very personal and something that I have never written about before, but its a massive part of me. Both of my parents are mentally ill.  It made for an interesting childhood and continues to keep me on my toes throughout adulthood to say the least.

Dad: I'm moving out

Me: Why

Dad: You hate me

Me: No I don't you are loved

Dad: Okay thank you I’ll stay

From early on the parent-child relationship was never standard. But then again, what is the standard for that type of thing? The thing about having a father like mine is that there’s a mandatory briefing to friends and family before they come over. A pre-explanation that even if he looks like he’s talking to you, Odds are there’s “someone else next to you” and if you respond, he can get upset. And that it’s okay to just hang out and not engage in conversation unless he directly addresses you. Sometimes It’s phone calls from the neighbors that my father is yelling to loud in the front yard while I’m at work, It can be phone calls from an Officer who explains that they’ve received a threatening letter directed to the Police Station. And it’s buying him new clothes for him to then add his own flair by cutting them up in his own, might I add  (Very fashionable) way. I’ve seen him do some very creative things with a pair of jeans. And sometimes, It’s coming home and seeing him dancing in the front yard with his shirt off just laughing with his unseen company. Or giving a speech to his very own audience in the driveway. It’s hearing the front door open and close 5-6 times within the span of 10 minutes. Especially when he’s got a lot to say during his exits. It’s cleaning his room because he thought someone broke in and made a mess. It’s hugging him when he finally does let his guard down for a split second. It means really appreciating the happy moments with him, the moments of clarity. It means to do what I can to make him feel loved and safe at home.

Dad: Can I borrow ten dollars for cigarettes?

Me: Yes here ( hands over twenty dollars)

Dad: Ooohhh that's so nice, your so sweet. You remind me of my daughter

My father is my heart, and I will fight for him to the end; he can be kind and gentle, he can be hilarious and silly and there are times when he will dance around with me singing at the top of our lungs. He’s also incredibly smart with a college degree in Agriculture. Unfortunately,  He was diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic before I was born. It’s not a one size fits all disability. There are different behaviors and stages. The effects can be progressive and It’s a darkness that attacks each person differently. It stems from my father’s side and they say it skips a generation, but I never really knew my great-grandparents or any great aunts or uncles, I only have stories from my Grandma. “Mental illness was not something that was openly discussed in their time”, is what my grandmother told me. Somehow I understood, so I didn’t ask many questions. Schizophrenia had started to take hold of my father, as far as I know, before I was born. After my parents were married it progressed as schizophrenia does. He’d do random things like painting the apartment they lived in different colors and he would forget he was cooking or running water. He and my mother would argue a lot, but she could never understand what he was talking about because he was hallucinating and she, fighting her own demons, couldn’t handle it. It got really scary at one point. He attempted suicide by cutting the sides of his throat and wrists in the bathtub of his apartment. Thankfully my grandmother found him before it was too late. Once my grandparents saw how rapidly his illness was progressing, They made sure he got the help needed. With the right medication and amazing support system, He became stable and lived a good life with my grandparents.

Me: Good Morning

Dad: I hate you, go away.

Me: Love you

Dad: Love you too

Over the years, I can see him fading more and more into his alternate reality. It reminds me of the TV Show Flash. They have Earth one, two and three. Each one is a different version of everyone you know. So everyone and everything looks the same but personalities are all different. In each world, the events that take place are different, darker, and eviler. I feel like I’ve always been on Earth one and He fluctuates between Earth two and three. In each version of Earth, I being his daughter, am a different person. So when he does meet me back on Earth one he is usually still upset about what I did on earth two and three. He will look at me and say, “You look like her, but I know it’s not you. Why did you attack me at war? Why did you burn my house down? Why did you kill my family? You’re not my daughter! SHE’S DEAD!”. I’m not going to lie, it does hurt my feelings emotionally. But logically I know he doesn’t mean to hurt me, and he’s upset because the other version of me killed the actual me, so he is mourning me. How can I be upset at that? It’s showing that he does love me. He just doesn’t know I am right here in front of him.  I can’t argue with him and say no that didn’t happen. Because to him, that’s his reality. No matter what I say he won’t budge, and I have to be considerate and know his feelings are valid. So I take a step back and say, “it’s going to be okay”. Or sometimes say nothing and walk away. Unfortunately, dealing with mental illness doesn’t come with an instruction manual, so I find ways to avoid confrontation and try to keep him as mellow as possible.  I feel bad. He’s trapped in this scary, sad, and violent alternate Earth, but I have no way of getting there to rescue him. I do what I can to help alleviate the stress. Making sure he always has the tools needed for drawing and painting. Some of the best times We’ve had have been our trips to Barnes and Noble to find his Favorite CD’s so that he can rush home and rock to his favorite Jams on his old school CD Player and smoke his tobacco pipe. It gives me just that little bit of peace seeing him find Joy in something and gives me a feeling that he’s going to be alright. I always try to remember back to a moment of clarity when he actually held a conversation. He looked me dead in the eye and said, ‘They are there, you just can’t see them”. I truly believed him and took it to heart. Who are we to judge and tell him what he sees isn’t real?

Me: Dad whens your birthday?

Dad: June. I’m one hundred and eighty-four years old.

Me: Well you look damn good!

Dad: I work out

Childhood with my father consisted of the two of us and his made up stories. Stories of the war and the many professions he has held. But as a child, I never knew that he wasn’t in the war and he wasn’t a policeman or a firefighter. I knew the stories were our bonding time. As time went by our bonding time became smoking. He always smoked cigarettes. To him having me smoke with him couldn’t make him happier. Whenever he was feeling like talking to me, he would bring his cigarettes and say, “Would you like to smoke with me?” I knew that was going to be the very few precious minutes of actually having the closest thing to a father-daughter conversation that I was going to get. I started smoking around fourteen, but it didn’t last long. I hated the taste and it just wasn’t for me. So after a few times, I would pretend to smoke just to hang out with him. He loved to cook for me. Now when I say cook, it means to make a bologna and potato chip sandwich with maple syrup and whip cream. It was always so thoughtful, and he put time and energy into making me, his daughter, a nice meal. So I would try to eat it but usually couldn’t get much of it down. And as much as it pains me to say, my cooking skills are a direct inheritance from him. His Specialty, however, the thing he would always make me as a kid that I loved, was Cinnamon Toast! He would get two pieces of bread, butter them, add cinnamon and sugar and then put it in the oven so it would all melt together and then give it to me with a big glass of milk. I was in heaven, and my daddy was awesome.

Me: Dad

Dad: Your an orphan I’m not your Dad

Me: okay

Dad: You were dropped off at my house, I don’t know you

I remember as a child having many conversations with him about death. He would always say when people die they become ghosts and then they get stuck. Or he would say all the people are being killed by shotguns or in the war everyone was cut to pieces. As a teenager with an impressionable mind, I would dwell on the advice of my father and continuously think about dying in that way and becoming a ghost. I always thought there were monsters under my bed and ghosts chasing me around at night. But I did feel safe with him; he was very gentle and kind. That’s the thing with paranoid schizophrenia, he might seem like he is aggressive or lashing out but in reality, he is just scared and trying to protect himself and his family. With my dad, his bark is always worse than his bite. He would say some scary stuff sometimes about the war and fighting. But, if he saw you say “No” loudly to our dog or cat, he would almost cry and go pet them and talk to them until they felt better. He never raised his voice at me growing up. He always paid child support and made sure to give me an allowance. Keep in mind this was from his disability check so what little he had he always shared with me and the rest of his family. He loved to get me little gifts which were always so thoughtful.

Me: Hi Dad

Dad: Who are you?

Me: Your daughter

Dad: She’s dead, they murdered her

All his paintings were always so calm and beautiful they would be of streams and the ocean and people relaxing. He would write letters to the governor telling them how to create world peace and to build cost-efficient homes and grow gardens to feed the homeless. There was always such a  fine line between happy and sad with him. My heart would break for him when he would cry and I would just hug him and tell him he’s loved. I was too young to understand what was happening but I knew he just needed someone to talk to. He has never really had any friends since I was born. He always just hung out with the family mainly my grandparents when I was growing up. They would go gamble penny slots and take him to eat and he would be happy, briefly, but still happy.

Dad: Hi, you’re a nice girl

Me: Thanks

Dad: Thanks for letting me live here, my family is all dead

Me: Your okay, everything is ok

Dad: It hurts so bad…

As the years go by, the days get a little bumpier, the hallucinations get a little stronger, and the mood swings get a little quicker. But there are still moments of happiness, laughter and the light still periodically will sparkle in his eye. His trips to Earth two and three become more frequent but we take a deep breathe say a prayer and wait for the storm to pass. LIfe is finding the joy in every moment that you can, loving one another without conditions and loving this journey called life. If you know someone who struggles with mental illness take the time to send them a text or call remind them how much they matter and that they are loved. It really is the little things in life that matter most.

Eyes of a Stranger...

Especially in the workplace or on television you will soon notice that when discussing something important, Kenyan people like to make verbal lists.

These verbal lists occur in response to a question, for instance, during a conference, a quick meeting at work, a brainstorm, or in the case of television, a debate. Queue the spotlight to be turned, colleagues to shuffle their phones and throats to be cleared, this is that persons big moment.

So, the person will start off their answer with a completely irrelevant and tedious introduction stating their full name...“My given names are….” date of employment... “I’ve been working for....” their full day to day job description and duties... “What I do is....” and the obligatory reference to God “We give thanks to God for…..” 

Once the insignificance is over, the person will then move onto answering the actual question. This will involve repeating the question and then answering in a listed style, e.g “The reason we have so much Poverty in Kenya is because…Number 1….” and thus begins  the persons answer, an answer that will go on and on and on and on and on and on zzzzzzzzzz.

This initial answer will cover everything the person has ever known about anything loosely connected to the question. The person will continue to waffle so much they will lose track of the question and also forget that they set about answering the question with a numbered list. It is extremely rare the audience will ever get to hear point number 2.

If ever they do get to point “number 2….” I guarantee the next words they will say are “oh, hang on, I forgot to mention….” and we’re back to point number fucking one again…which will go on and on again until they start to bore themselves, at which point the answer will be wrapped up with an assured “so that’s all I have to say about that…thank you” cue enthusiastic applause and the fact that, in other parts of the world 30 minutes was spent doing something actually valuable. I dread to imagine if the person had the content to fill 5 points, I can only recommend blocking out 2 days for the meeting.

Of course, It’s possible to assume “Number 1” is the Number 1 and most important point and that the rest of the list is considered irrelevant. Another option, and this is the theory I find most likely, is that they heard somebody else say “number 1” and thought they’d copy.

Personally, I find there’s very little to copy in Nairobi. As you drive around the City, there’s very little to be inspired by. Don’t get me wrong, Nairobi is a vibrant and fascinating place to live, but the appeal doesn’t stem from architecture, design, originality or even surprisingly, a rich cultural identity. There’s very little of interest in Nairobi, compared to millions of other far less important places in the world. There are no beautiful bridges spanning a river, there isn’t a beautifully manicured park, there isn’t an area of outstanding design. Obviously the most beautiful sources of design and architecture all originate from nature. The people, the trees, the mountains, the flowers, the birds, the animals etc etc. Essentially very little man-made wonders exist, in fact I’d say none, which is sad considering the how long the city has existed for and in comparison to many other cities and towns around the world.

Sure, there are tons of ideas out there, but unfortunately Kenyan Governments have never sought to change societies outlook on such simple pleasures. I imagine any creative idea falls down flat at the corruption hurdle.  

In terms of identity, all of the other major Kenyan Towns and Cities all look the same. Nakuru, Naivasha, Eldoret, Kisumu, Kisii, Machakos, Wote, Nanyuki, Meru etc are all almost identical. Sure, the countryside and people have big variety, but the places themselves, on the whole, look exactly the same. Mombasa does look different in design, as it draws deeply from the Muslim culture, but the city itself is a huge disappointment and such a letdown for the huge potential it has.  

So, with very little to see it’s hardly surprising that the average Kenyan loves to stare at other people.

When I walk around, I look at the nature, the sky and of course mainly where I’m going, but when I do look around, what I see, is people staring at me.

As we move into the year of vision, 2020, the average Kenyan still loves to stare at white people, or maybe it’s just me.

I know to Kenyans, all Crackers look and sound the same…I think the worst comparison for me has been Wayne Rooney, but in all honesty, we’re not too far removed if you’ve drank 8 pints of Gin and have been dreaming of launderettes.

I do get stared at a lot though, really...certainly enough to get angry about it, definitely enough to have the nuclear option of “fuck you looking at?” in my locker. I really have to work hard at keeping that option for extreme measures only and I do keep it just for emergencies by understanding most Kenyans stare out of pure interest, curiosity, and in most cases, affection.

I have written before here that I enjoy to jog. This makes me an easy target for “starers”, pure game. How it plays out is like this; I’ll be running toward a group of people, they’ll be chatting away happily, but then as I come closer into their space, their chatting descends into complete silence and their stares begin. Then, only once I’ve passed, will their volume return to original levels and is often accompanied by great laughter and whoops of joy, and all because I ran past them.

I also enjoy walking in Nairobi, and when confronted with a “starer” the scene usually plays out in a similar direction, but with with more pathological pleasure for the “starer”

The “starer” will click their first “Initial Stare”, on average, the “Initial Stare” consumes around 4 seconds of me and I’m aware of it through my peripheral sight, ESP and darting snapshots back and forth of them. I ignore the “Initial Stare”

Then, the “Secondary Stare” takes focus. This stare is longer and extracts more of me, it can last anything up to 6 seconds, or at least until I break it by looking back into their eyes, thus causing an eye seizure in the “starer”. Moving on from the  “Secondary Stare”, we now develop into eye to eye warfare as we walk closer toward each other.

These can be quick, sharp retaliatory stares fired between as we cross each other’s pass, but this depends how interested the “starer” is.

Then, as soon as we’ve passed, without warning, in comes the “After Stare”.

The “After Stare” is for pure greed and sycophantic lust.

I now glance back, and this is when I start to defend myself by increasing my stare onto them, I call this the “Angry Goose Stare”.

Now, and for the very first time, the “starer” has something to genuinely stare at, however they are also properly confused and intimidated by the situation, “Why is this freaky looking white man staring at me…and why is he looking like an angry Goose?”

My retaliatory “Angry Goose Stare” works immediately and they cease their stare. However now, they’re thinking “Eh, what’s this silly Muzungu doing?”. So, they come back for more in the shape of the “Befuddled Stare”. 

The only way to disarm this confrontation and to stop myself going nuclear by shouting “fuck you looking at?” is to wind my head in, turn my frown upside down and smile like a Thai Tourist and say “Hiiiiiyer….yer alright duck?” in my friendliest Leicestershire accent. Immediately the “starer” is faced with a warm, welcoming, if a little disturbing, Muzungu and they then revert to their default setting of ‘Lovely Kenyan person’. I’m not sure if my methods are a solution to stopping staring, but it is certainly entertaining and provides a bit of light relief to the dull intensity of the surroundings.

In Nairobi, particularly in the CBD, smoking cigarettes is banned. If you want to spark up, the safest place to not get arrested is to smoke in one of the “Smoking Shacks”. I say, shack, because that’s the best way to describe them. The shack is a basic structure, I’d say the design was heavily influenced by the Vietnamese Torture Cages, perhaps the contractor saw ‘Rambo’ and thought what a great theme that would be for Nairobi’s smokers. I’ve never smoked in one and never would, they do have a great effect on stopping.

With this in mind, I feel the Government of Kenya should introduce “Staring Shacks”

These shacks would then become the focal point in Nairobi for unashamed “starers” to gather and practice their hobby with other like-minded individuals in a safe and designated area.

“Nairobi Starers” woud become the Facebook Group which would list where “Staring Shacks” could be found and where special meetings or events are happening. Perhaps there could be special meetings i.e “Muzungu Monday” “Wahindi Wednesday” “Freaky Friday” anything really, all fetishes would be welcomed.

I feel the shacks would add a new dimension to the staring scene and allow the hobby to become a little more like Train-spotting. It would instantly create a new culture within Nairobi and instead of “Culture Walks”, I’d suggest “Staring Walks”. Enthusiasts could walk from shack to shack and be with like-minded people in a non-judgemental environment, safe staring for the modern Nairobian.

EXT – ‘STARING SHACK’ 10 AM

WOMAN ENTERS “STARING SHACK” AND SITS DOWN NEXT TO HER FRIEND.

Agnes -                                    Sasa.

Brenda -                                  Poa.

Agnes -                                    Seen anything good yet?

Brenda -                                  Nah…pretty quiet so far.

Agnes -                                    I stared at a Muzungu on the way here.

Brenda-                                   Oh yeah?

Agnes -                                    Yeah, fairly standard really.

Brenda -                                  Was there any odd face?

Agnes -                                    Odd face? No, why?

Brenda -                                  Nothing really, just the last Muzungu I stared at,    looked like an angry Goose.

Agnes -                                    Wow, sounds strange…get a photo?

Brenda -                                  No…he smiled in the end, he was ok.

Agnes                                      I did have a good stare at a Kenyan man pushing a baby buggy.

Brenda -                                  No way….??

Agnes -                                    Straight up!

Brenda -                                  Where?

Agnes -                                    Lavington.

Brenda -                                  Obviously, bloody show off. Get a picture?

Agnes -                                    Yeah, did actually, let me find it – SHOWS PHOTOGRAPH

Brenda -                                  Oh yeah….that’s nice…good one.

Agnes -                                    Yeah, I’ll upload it to the Facebook group.

Brenda -                                  Did you see the photo I uploaded of the Indian Man and the Kenyan Lady?

Agnes -                                    What? I must have missed that, when was that?

Brenda -                                  About two weeks ago. I was in town and I was walking around the corner of Biashara Street and Moi Avenue, know where I mean?

Agnes -                                    No

Brenda -                                  Anyway, as I came around the corner I spotted them, large as life…. holding hands they were as well

Agnes -                                    What?

Brenda -                                  Totally…so I crossed over so I could, you know, get a few proper stares in like.

Agnes -                                    Amazing.

Brenda -                                  Then I carried on walking towards them…standard stare procedure really…so I pretended to be on my phone and that’s when I got this…SHOWS PHOTOGRAPH

Agnes -                                    Wooooah, Indian Man and a Kenyan women, insane…during the day as well…that is rare.

Brenda -                                  Yeah well happy with that photo.

Agnes -                                    So what happened then?

Brenda -                                  Well, they walked past, so I went in for the ‘after-stare’…You know… standard.

Agnes -                                    nice.

Brenda -                                  Yeah it was until the Indian man looks back around at me and says “Fuck you looking at?”

Agnes -                                    No way

Brenda -                                  Way.

Agnes                                      What did you say?

Brenda -                                  Nothing, I just carried on walking like nothing had happened.

THE END

Something for the illustrious Kenyan Nation to stare at and be genuinely proud about is long overdue.

And to be picky, I’m very sorry but, a long and wide ass road built by a foreign country, a Kenyan in Running Shoes or a Train track devastating wildlife doesn’t count. I’m talking about a safe and entertaining City Centre, a rejuvenated recreational Uhuru Park, a state of the Art Museum / Gallery that type of thing. Something original, uniquely Kenyan and not copied. Ah ok, sounds like my “Staring Shacks” will be up and running before any of that happens.

Clear Sky, 19°C

7 Pacific Hwy, Mooney Mooney NSW 2083, Australia

After a considerable amount of time... Stripping down the motor took a lot of effort. What made it particularly tedious was the fact that there was only one spot where you can stand to perform the dismantling operations, on the starboard side engine bearer, just in front of the battery. I used the boarding ramp to span the gap across the top of the motor, which gave me something to lean my upper torso on when performing particularly delicate surgery with the snatch bar, but every operation was tiring, and more than one tool, bolt, nut, washer, screw etc. found its way into the bilge. Fortunately I kept a close eye on what went down there, and recovered everything with the claw tool before I forgot about it. At one stage my best flat head screw driver did the pirouette off the water tank, through the gap in the bulkhead between the two motors, and into the deepest and slimiest part of the bilge. I had to go fishing for it with two magnetic pickup tools taped together in series to reach down that far. Fortunately the magnet on the end was sufficiently powerful that it latched on straight away, and I got the tool back. Particularly galling in these circumstances is the workshop manuals brevity on some operations. "Remove the front side cowling" makes no mention of the fact that there is a bolt on its port side that connects it to the port side cowling with a nut than is inaccessible, similarly the rear side cowling also has a bolt connecting it to the port side cowling with a nut that is inaccessible. And the port side cowling cannot be removed until both inlet and exhaust manifolds have been removed, which cannot be done until the air ducting around the manifolds has been removed, and that operation isn't described. In other examples, simply removing some part doesnt mention the need for a special tool like a socket that has a third of its wall cut away and another socket welded to its side so that it will fit over just one nut that no ordinary tool can get anywhere near. Workshop manuals are fine, up to a point. Slowly but surely I managed to prise off the various cowling and ducts, the fuel lines, belts, the blower, the oil cooler, manifolds, heads, rods and tubes, and finally the barrels. It wasn't until I got the final cylinder barrel off that the problem was revealed. I have to say it was an emotional moment. When I saw the damaged piston and the scoring in the bore, I knew then what I was up for, and I was greatly relieved. If the problem had not been uncovered when I lifted off that last cylinder, then I knew the next step could only be the removal of the entire engine, and that was not something I think I could manage on my own, let alone afford. As I write the heads are waiting to be serviced, and the barrels honed. They have been in the shop for the past month so work on the motor has been halted until I know what parts are needed. I'm suspecting atleast three new pistons and a full set of rings, but I dont know if the #1 cylinder will have to go oversize, and if it does, what that means for the other bores. Pistons alone are over $300, so I'm contemplating a hefty parts bill. Atleast the labour bill won't be so crippling. In the meantime I've drained the motor of oil and given the crankcase a flush with diesel. I am concerned about the amount of grit still sitting in the oil pan which i cannot get to, but I saw a utube last week on flushing engines, and apparently the thing to do is to replace the oil with diesel and run the motor for 5 minutes, and most of this crap should get picked up by the filter, apparently. So I'll give that a go. There is no way of being able to ascertain the state of the crank and bearings. This does worry me, mainly because without knowing where theyre at, I could go to all the trouble of putting the motor back together, only to find myself having to do it all again in short order if theyre bad. I have to console myself with the thought that going to this level of trouble is seriously beyond my capability, and I'm just going to have to trust to luck that they're ok. The piston pins and shells are well within tolerance, so I'm figuring that they should be fine also. Additionally, they get supplied with oil under pressure from the oil pump, and at no stage have I seen the oil pressure cut out completely, so I'm clinging to hope on this one. I had known there was a serious oil leak from the engine, not before the mechanic in Newcastle had pointed it out, but it wasn't entirely obvious where it was coming from. I couldnt see anything dripping off whilst idling on the mooring, so i assumed it had to be a problem only evident whilst under load, and maybe even something to do with running in a heavy sea. Lifting the sole whilst underway at sea has not been an option because it can't be secured, and it's too dangerous anyway, so trying to find the leak hasn't gone much further than looking for evidence of dripping down the sides of the crankcase. One of the fittings for the oil cooler has been leaking (the one that requires the fancy homemade socket tool descibed above) and I'm thinking that this is where all the problems stem from. I wasnt sure at first because there is a cowling over it that directs air from the blower through the cooler and the cylinders, which makes it impossible to see whilst the engine is running, but once I got the blower and the cowlings off it is obvious that this is the source of the leak. So while I'm waiting for the head shop to do their thing I've taken on a few other projects. I stripped down the fresh water pump, because I've been concerned that it hasn't been priming itself, and it hasn't been switching on automatically when the pressure drops from draw down. This has been particularly annoying when your in the shower with a head full of shampoo. Traipsing through the boat leaving wet puddles everywhere, just to cycle the power switch for the pump gets very tedious. With the pump out of the way I get better access to the oily messy that is the front of the motor. I should be able to do a job on it to clean it all up eventually. I've also been looking at connecting up the VHF to a GPS source, so that it can access boat position. This is necessary for the DSC feature to work properly, and was never done when the unit was installed. In addition, I wanted to get a sub connected to the stereo I installed last year. Both of these jobs required access to the space immediately behind the panel at the back of the chart table. I had managed to install the stereo by wiring it through the hole I installed it into, but this was a tedious process, and I figured all along that it would be good if the lid on top could be hinged. I spent a great deal of time trying to work out how the top could be removed, fuguring that it must be screwed on from inside, but i couldnt locate any screws. I bought a USB endoscope to poke inside, but this proved to be far more difficult to use than I had imagined, especially interpreting just what it was looking at, and manipulating it in the required direction for a better view. I found a couple of screws in the liquor cupboard that seemed to be part of the problem, but I still could not get the top off. Eventually I got the shits with it and decided the only way was to implement irresistable force and see what broke. It turned out there were three screws along one side and three dowel joints along the other. I should have been able see all three screws as they were all partially removed, and fortunately there was only a little damage done! I plan not to use hidden screws to put it back together. With top down access to this space I could now solve a couple of mysteries that had baffled me. It turned out that the GPS in the cabin was completely separate to the one in the cockpit, and it was the cockpit GPS that was wired to the Digiboard for the computer on COM5. The cabin GPS turned out to be on COM7, which explained why my computer couldn't "see" it, I didn't know there was a COM7, and I had never thought the cockpit GPS would be wired to the computer, so I had never turned it on whilst I had been playing around. When I added COM7 to the connections for OpenCPN I suddenly had everything working, AIS targets showing up, no more error messages, yada yada. Hooray. Still to figure out is whether I can load a track into the cockpit GPS from the computer, because I think that this might be the one that the autopilot is listening out for. Hooking up the sub hasn't been a success story so far. I've been trying to use the mini molex plugs for power and audio, but haven't had any success finding the 6 pin audio plug. The 4 pin power plug I wired up doesn't seem to want to do the business. Not sure why, but you can bet your house that I've got the wiring wrong and I'll have to go and buy another plug. In the meantime I discovered that the speaker was kaput. The rubber moulding holding the cone in place had rotted, so now I'll have to source a new one. Another project underway is to connect the AIS to the radar so that targets will appear on its display. This requires an NMEA0183 connection between the two, which should be simple, but the greatest failing of this particular standard was to allow manufacturers to implement it as they saw fit. Consequently, it seems no two companies used the same plugs, and as a further consequence, you cannot just buy a cable to connect Furuno equipment to Camino. All cables come with a particular manufacturers plug on one end and bare wires on the other. It's a good thing thing I've got a soldering iron on board (and a spare, and a backup to the spare).

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Haryana Stays On Top Of Medals Tally, Delhi Lie Second

Haryana stayed on high regardless of not including any extra to their in a single day tally of 20 gold medals, although Delhi narrowed the hole to only two on the first Khelo India School video games. Late on Sunday, Delhi received the Boys Kabaddi gold medal and on Monday, they added the Boys Volleyball gold to maneuver to 18 medals, whereas Maharashtra are mendacity third with 16 gold and Karnataka have 15. West Bengal opened their gold medal with two successes on Monday. The Bengal ladies received the volleyball gold and within the night they added yet another gold by means of weightlifter Shrabani Das in Girls 48 kg class.

Of the 4 weight classes in weightlifting, Assam (Sidhanta Gogoi in Boys 56 kg), Odhisa (Bhaktaram Desti in Boys 50kg), Bengal (Shrabani Das in Girls 48kg) and Manipur (Konsam Ormila Devi in Girls 44 kg) shared the honours.

In weightlifting the star of the day, Konsam Ormila Devi from Manipur, a Commonwealth Youth Championship winner, who received the 44 kg class, was the decide. She received the gold with a giant margin within the ladies’ 44kg class.

The Commonwealth Youth Championship winner lifted a mixed complete of 137 kg, 4 kilos higher than 133kg she achieved at Gold Coast within the Commonwealth meet final September. On Monday, Ormila achieved 59 kg in snatch and 78 kg with clear & Jerk for a complete of 137 kg.

Delhi Boys and West Bengal Girls grabbed the volleyball gold medals of their respective sections. While the Boys finals went the complete distance, West Bengal beat Maharashtra in straight video games.

Delhi received the Boys remaining Three-2 and Bengal Girls beat Maharashtra Three-Zero, whereas Kerala beat Uttarakhand for Boys bronze and Gujarat beat UP for Girls bronze.

In the Girls remaining, West Bengal ladies continued their successful spree on the IG Indoor Stadium. The West Bengal ladies, who had received the National School Games at Andhra Pradesh final October, as soon as once more beat the identical opponents Maharashtra.

Delhi received the kabaddi gold for boys beating Uttar Pradesh within the remaining on Sunday, whereas Himachal Pradesh beat Delhi within the Girls remaining.

Badminton: Top-Seeded Dhruv Rawat, Malvika Bansod Sail Smoothly Into Second Round

Top-seeded Dhruv Rawat (Uttarakhand) and Malvika Bansod (Maharashtra) made gentle of the problem of their respective opponents within the girls and boys’ singles opening spherical matches when the badminton competitors bought beneath method on the Indira Gandhi Stadium on Monday.

“I told myself that there was no room for complacency and that the match was not won until the last point went in my favour,” mentioned Dhruv Rawat after beating wild-card entrant Subanshu Tiwari (Arunachal Pradesh) 21-5, 21-Three in a mere 17 minutes. “I remembered the Asian Badminton Championship match (against Taufik Hidayat Ilmi) when I lost because I assumed a win after taking the first game.”

Nagpur’s Malvika Bansod, contemporary from successful a senior all-India rating crown, took 20 minutes to ebook her pre-quarterfinal berth with a 21-10, 21-7 win in opposition to Tamil Nadu’s V Sarumarthi. Gayathri Gopichand, seeded third within the ladies’ draw, pulled out as she is recovering from an harm. Rajasthan’s Anuska secured a walk-over into the spherical of 16.

Results (first spherical, seedings in brackets)

Boys singles: (1) Dhruv Rawat (Uttarakhand) beat Subhanshu Tiwari (Arunachal Pradesh) 21-5, 21-Three; Govind Krishna (Kerala) beat Anirudh Khushwaha (Gujarat) 21-19, 21-19; (6) Koya Sai Charan (Telangana) beat Sourav (Assam( 21-7, 21-10; Anush Rav Garg (Haryana) w.o. George Kherban (Meghalaya); R Vikas Prabhu (Tamil Nadu) w.o. (Three) Iman Sonowal (Assam); Laa Takum (Arunachal Pradesh) beat Aryaman Goel (Madhya PradesH0 21-6, 21-14; (7) Aakash Yadav (Delhi) beat Sudanshu Bure (Maharashtra( 21-9, 21-Eight; Rajan Yadav (Uttar Pradesh) beat Pruthvi Okay Roy (Karnataka) 22-20, 21-Eight.

Girls singles: (1) Malvika Bansod (Maharashtra) beat V Sarumathi (Tamil Nadu) 21-10, 2-17; Varsha Venkatesh (Kerala) beat Shejal Joshi (Meghalaya) 21-7, 2-13; (Eight) Mansi Singh (Uttar Pradesh) beat L Mamakiya (Andhra Pradesh) 21-6, 21-2; Nikita (Haryana) beat Taku Neha (Arunachal Pradesh) 21-5, 2-15; (four) Unnati Bisht (Uttarakhand) beat Amrit Bashini (Puducherry) 21-Eight, 21-Three; Debahuti Lahon (Assam) beat Sheetal Joshi (Meghalaya) 21-9, 21-5; (6) Trisha Hegde (Karnataka) beat Mansi Yadav (Delhi) 21-10, 21-9; Tanishka Das Pandey (Maharashtra) beat BB Bimby (Tamil Nadu) 21-11, 21-11.

Manipur International Babyrojisana Chanu Lays Down The Gauntlet

Manipur’s Babyrojisana Chanu, who not too long ago received gold for India within the seventh Nation’s Cup boxing match in Serbia, wasted little time in asserting her superiority over Harshita (Delhi) and compelled the referee to cease the competition within the first spherical of their bout on the boxing corridor within the Indira Gandhi Indoor Stadium on Monday.

It got here as no shock that Chanu was the clear winner within the ladies’ 52kg class. Daughter of Robindro Naorem, she is going to face Assam’s Nanjita Baro within the quarterfinalstomorrow.

Another carefully fought encounter noticed Goa’s Suman Yadav inch previous Arunachal Pradesh’s Dare Runchi with a Three-2 break up resolution. “My current coach came to our school to demonstrate the sport,” she mentioned. “I tried out my hand at boxing as it looked appealing. One year has gone by since and I cannot imagine my life now without boxing”

Three boxers from the Union Territory of Daman & Diu participated however solely Risabham Mishra progressed. He did nicely to outperform Himachal’s Akshay Verma within the 75kg class and was dominated winner after the primary spherical. His team-mates Himanshu Singh (54kg class) and Anurag Sanjay Singh (57kg class) had been eradicated

Konsam Ormila Devi Lifting The Weight Of Expectation With A Touch Of Class

Konsam Ormila Devi from Manipur, who arrived with a giant fame, lived as much as the expectations. She received the gold with a giant margin within the ladies’ 44kg class on Monday on the Indira Gandhi Stadium.

The Commonwealth Youth Championship winner lifted a mixed complete of 137 kg, 4 kilos higher than 133kg she achieved at Gold Coast within the Commonwealth meet final September. On Monday, Ormila achieved 59 kg in snatch and 78 kg with clear & Jerk for a complete of 137 kg.

Her coach, T Bobo Singh, hopes that with the form of expertise younger Ormila is blessed with, she ought to have the ability to comply with within the footsteps of the illustrious weightlifters from Manipur like Kunjurani Devi and Sanamacha Chanu.

This win on the Khelo India School Games may nicely be step one within the lengthy journey to medals on the highest ranges.

Ormila, whose complete was 10 kg higher than silver medallist, Khushali Gangurde of Maharashtra (Total of 127 kg), revealed that she anticipated a a lot nearer struggle. “I thought she (Khushali) would give a fight, but she didn’t succeed in her last two attempts,” she mentioned.

Hailing from Khongjom, a small village 35km outdoors of Manipur’s capital metropolis of Imphal, Ormila has risen from humble beginnings. She picked up weightlifting on the insistence of coach Bobo Singh, a former coach on the Sports Authority of India academy within the state.

“Her mother is a vegetable vendor in Khongjom, and her father is very ill,” he mentioned of his gifted ward. “Her cousin used to play football. That is how I discovered her at the SAI academy, where I persuaded her to take up weightlifting.”

Singh credited her speedy rise by means of the ranks in such a short while span of to her arduous work. “I spotted her in 2013, and it is great to see her having done so well in the past four years or so. I had told her to give me two years, and we have come a long way since then.”

Ormila, who additionally received gold within the Asian Youth Championship, is presently balancing research, aggressive weightlifting in addition to attending to her in poor health father, however has her sights set on the National Youth championships later this month.

“I study in the ninth standard, and the school where I come from doesn’t have many facilities for sports, so I have to train at the academy,” she explains.

Her coach, now a bodily schooling instructor, is devoting on a regular basis he can in the direction of his younger ward in her journey to turn into a future worldwide medal contender. “The national championships are coming up in Vishakhapatnam later this month, so we are focusing on that,” explains her coach. “Her selection for international competitions will depend on her performance there.”

The post Haryana Stays On Top Of Medals Tally, Delhi Lie Second appeared first on World Cup News| Qualifiers | Fixtures | Schedule | Venue in 2018.

from World Cup News| Qualifiers | Fixtures | Schedule | Venue in 2018 http://ift.tt/2BWtdD3 via World Cup News 2018 from Blogger http://ift.tt/2BZcdfs via World cup 2018 news and updates

 Kerry’s Korner is a weekly feature by Good&Co’s co-founder and chief psychometrician, Dr. Kerry Schofield. It addresses contemporary issues, drawing on behavioral and experimental psychology, psychometrics, and social science to analyze the ways we live. Turn off your email; turn off your phone; disconnect from the Internet; figure out a way to set limits so you can concentrate when you need to, and disengage when you need to. Technology is a good servant but a bad master. – Gretchen Rubin Aliens didn’t come down to Earth and give us technology. We invented it ourselves. Therefore it can never be alienating; it can only be an expression of our humanity. – Douglas Coupland The 3rd of March is National Unplugging Day, and in a fit of irony, the internet is full of reasons why we should turn off the TV, lock up the laptop, and mute those mobile devices. But is it really the case that unplugging benefits our mental health, or is it just another hipster zeitgeist, like ugly retro cellphones, or highschool kids wearing enormous Cold War eyeglasses? This article explores five psychological whys – and why nots – of unplugging. Is unplugging just another hipster zeitgeist? Click To Tweet 1. Addiction is bad, m’kay? Many Unpluggers point out just how dependent we have become on technology. Joshua Becker, author of 7 Important Reasons to Unplug and Find Space shares some striking stats, including: 84% of people say they could not manage for one day without their cellphone People check their cellphones every 6.5 minutes on average 50% of people sleep with their cellphones There are good reasons to worry about over-dependence on technology. As Neil deGrasse Tyson commented, Even with all our technology and the inventions that make modern life so much easier than it once was, it takes just one big natural disaster to wipe all that away and remind us that, here on Earth, we’re still at the mercy of nature. Sure, dependence on anything is a valid concern; however, human nature is what it is, and our evolution-driven tendency is to feast when there’s plenty, to prepare us for times of famine. Perhaps this extends to everything – we gorge ourselves on technology when we have it, because on some level of our lizard brains, we expect it to be gone someday. Perhaps this is why post-apocalytpic fiction is so popular; we are all survivalists at heart, expecting and preparing for a time when our luxuries are unavailable to us. Some of us purchase dubiously-legal hunting gear and build underground bunkers to prepare to be nuked back to the Stone Age; the rest of us go for the crib notes, and binge on The Walking Dead. Being able to unplug is useful, therefore; it doesn’t mean we have to. Does the ubiquitous use of technology count as a species-wide addiction of pathological proportions? This nerd says nay; we are not addicted to technology itself, but the gifts it gives us. What do we do with our tech? We communicate. We share information, experiences and ideas, however small. We express ourselves. We create, individually and collaboratively. We connect with other people, and with the world around us. In short, we do all the things we did before the digital age. What do we do with our tech? We communicate. We create. #NationalDayofUnplugging Click To Tweet 2.The human connection We are in an age of technology where we sit in our little cubicles and we IM each other and Skype each other and never connect as human beings. – Sarah McLachlan Communication is of the most profound importance to us as a species. It is our biggest advantage over other animals – we have the unique ability to collaboratively solve problems, and we are the only species to undermine rivals with malicious gossip. There is a school of thought that true human communication can only happen face to face – that even the most high-tech video conference calls contain impoverished information about face expression, tone, and body language. In the words of Robin Dunbar, evolutionary psychologist at Oxford University: There is something paramount about face-to-face interactions that is crucial for maintaining friendships. Seeing the white of heir eyes from time to time seems to be crucial to the way we maintain friendships. We’ve all experienced the fallout of social media’s effect on personal relationships – twelve people all seated around a table in a restaurant, Tweeting pictures of their food instead of talking to each other. We all have that friend or family member who texts us from upstairs while we are downstairs. Worse, we’ve all been that friend or family member. It’s hard to argue with that; however, when we look at the tradeoff between the pros and cons of high-tech communication, this nerd thinks we come out with a win. Through Facetime, Skype, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and the rest we have extended our community from friends, family and a handful of people we see on the bus to everyone. I can sit on my sofa in the wilds of Devon, England and Tweet the President of the USA. He probably wouldn’t answer, but still. I can sit on my sofa in the wilds of Devon, England and Tweet the President of the USA… Click To Tweet Through technology, friendships can cross oceans, span boundaries of culture, age, religion and race in a way unprecedented in a history. We are part of a truly global community. 3. Great men are like eagles …. and build their nest on some lofty solitude. – Arthur Schopenhauer We are never alone. Calls, texts, emails, pings and bleeps of every shape and form invade our lives 24/7. What happened to blessed solitude? While people differ in how much they enjoy alone time, research shows that a little privacy is vital to everyone from time to time. If we never switch off, we can never switch off. Although this is a valid concern, once again the problem has a flipside: solitude may be psychologically beneficial, but loneliness is not. Technology gives us access to a wide range of social communication, putting people in easier contact with each other the world over. Families separated by war, natural disasters, or baggage handler strikes can reconnect across the world. For those with social phobias, and people on the autistic spectrum, remote communication from the safe, controlled environment of your own home can be a crucial outlet. Social media can be a literal lifesaver: people who are depressed and alone, unable to tolerate their existence, reach out to the global community, and it responds. Lives have been saved that way. 4. Passive-aggressive ‘Likes’ Like most animals, humans are social climbers. We want to feel we are doing as well or better (ideally better) than our peers. We love to be king of the hill. And when we see people doing better than us, we get sad and pissy. Before the age of technology, all we had to compare ourselves to were the other peasants within a few miles’ radius; we might suffer turnip envy, but we were unlikely to look at the local feudal lord’s house and think ‘I want some of that’. We had no point of comparison beyond our own immediate social group. These days, we have the whole world to compare ourselves to; everyone who has a Twitter is a valid target. Research suggests that comparing ourselves to others is psychologically unhealthy, leading to increased risk for depression, low self-esteem, and tragically, even suicide. In a world where we can all compare ourselves to the best and brightest, we will always come up short somewhere. Again, hard to argue with that; however, social comparisons are not new. We can unplug our devices, but we can’t ignore the world around us. The fact is that we live in a global community, and the only way to remove ourselves from that community is to move to Tibet and live as a mountain goat. The world is out there. Switching off our cellphones will not make it go away. Not only social media and TV, but magazines, billboards, and radio shows are all keen to remind us that we’re not the most beautiful, not the brightest, not the most successful. There’s always someone better, whether they’re Tweeting you or smirking at you from the front cover of Perfect Boobs Weekly. Unplugging won’t save us #NationalDayofUnplugging Click To Tweet 5. Switch on your life When we spend all our time staring at a small screen (or a large one), we miss everything else that is going on – not just ‘out there’, but within ourselves. Social media and TV act as distractions from our own thoughts. Do we really want to be distracted from our own lives? That probably depends on whether we like our lives or not, but if we don’t, wouldn’t we be better off doing something about it instead of mainlining Netflix? The only way to remove ourselves from online media is to move to Tibet and live as a mountain… Click To Tweet Advocates of unplugging argue that we spend so much time photographing, videoing, Tweeting and Imguring our lives that we don’t actually notice them anymore. Perhaps this is why mindfulness – maintaining a moment-by-moment awareness of our thoughts, feelings, bodily sensations, and surrounding environment— is becoming such a popular concept. We recognize the need to reconnect with the visceral experience of our own lives; we realize that interposing technology between the world and ourselves creates a disconnect, putting us at a remove from ourselves. This nerd is all for mindfulness. As with the other arguments for unplugging, though, there is a flipside. Sure, it’s hard to see how people taking photographs of their lunch is a meaningful life experience, but there is tremendous value in the ability to record our experiences. It makes them easier to share, and shared experience is at the heart of human communication and bonding. Anyone who has witnessed a friend or family member suffer the slow death of Alzheimer’s disease will be aware that shared memories form a central part of our relationships with others. Without mutual experiences, private jokes, shared nostalgia, we cannot progress beyond the most shallow of interactions. Technology can give back that gift of shared experience. People in hospitals or retirement homes can attend, virtually, their son’s wedding or their granddaughter’s birthday party. Wearable cameras automatically capture the experiences of people with memory problems, allowing them to connect with their families through shared experiences once more. When we look at the balance sheet, technology has given us a lot more than it has taken away. However, this doesn’t mean that we need to glue ourselves to screens every moment of every day. There are genuine psychological benefits to taking a break from technology now and then to take a walk in the woods, picnic with friends, even – God forbid – organize a dinner party for your in-laws. When we look at the balance sheet, technology has given us a lot more than it has taken away. Click To Tweet Is National Unplugging Day a gimmick or a Godsend? Perhaps a little of both, but to this nerd, unplugging is a valuable reminder: when it comes to technology, we must not be the servant, but the master. The post Kerry’s Korner: The Psychology Behind Technology Dependence appeared first on Good&Co.

The Proven Guide to Using Live Video to Build Your Personal Brand

2015 was a banner year for video and, in my opinion, a big year for video marketing—something that ramped up through 2016.

We saw a lot of brands jumping on the video bandwagon as Snapchat gained steam, Instagram unleashed live video, Twitter released video auto-play, and Facebook introduced video ads and, of course, native live streaming.

Live streaming has become one of the best ways to forge an authentic, one-on-one connection with customers. Brands are using live video to build a larger, stronger presence and reach audiences on the fly like never before.

As a professional, you can leverage live video to give your personal brand the same kind of lift.

You should strongly consider live video, given that by late 2017 video is expected to make up more than 70% of all traffic on the web.

Here’s how you can get the most out of live video to bolster your brand.

1. Make your videos personal

There are a lot of ways to present information in videos, but most fit into two formats.

Type 1: The video focuses on objects, backgrounds, or scenery while you narrate. In some videos, I’ve seen marketers record in “first person” while they travel. You see what they see, and they narrate.

Type 2: The camera is on the broadcaster, so you’re in the center of the frame. The viewers’ eyes are on you while you’re talking and presenting your information or ideas. The occasional pan to include surrounding sights or other people occurs, but for the most part it stays on you.

The second type is what you should stick with when working to build your personal brand. Videos should stay personal because that’s how you’re going to make a personal connection and build your brand.

It’s easy to turn off a video of a place or an object like a whiteboard. It’s not as easy to do that when you’re in the video, making eye contact with the audience, speaking to them directly.

2. Don’t script it

If you’re not used to streaming or broadcasting live and the idea of speaking off the cuff makes you nervous, you should relax. Everyone feels that. Eventually, you’ll get over it with practice as long as you keep at it.

Just don’t make the mistake of trying to script your videos.

Reading from a script ruins authenticity. It’s okay to be prepared, but you want your video to feel natural. People are attracted to those who are confident in themselves and capable of being themselves.

Rather than trying to read from a script, which creates an off-camera glance or stare with unnatural delivery, prepare yourself with a handful of bullet points.

Those bullet points can guide your delivery, and you can fill in the rest as you go. Don’t write those down; rather, keep those bullet points or target ideas in mind. Recall them, and practice a few times before you go live, and you’ll be good to go.

Jason Carr did a great “impromptu” live feed en route from his old job at Fox 2 Detroit to his new job at Local 4 Detroit News.

Hey!

Posted by Jason Carr on Monday, May 23, 2016

3. Go for quick delivery

Even the most devoted among your audience are going to tune in only for so long. If you want to grab people on the fly and grow your audience quickly, make sure you’re consistently providing a fast delivery on your ideas.

Long videos aren’t likely to get clicked on, so keep content as short as possible.

When I’m browsing content and a video grabs my attention, one of the first things I check is its length. I’ll happily drop a few minutes on a video, but those that exceed 6-10 minutes had better have a serious hook if they want me to click.

Wistia’s study on video length shows that shorter videos consistently get more engagement.

For a live stream, aim for 5 minutes or less. If you’re consistent with short clips, your audience will be more likely to tune in again and again because they know the delivery is quick and the value comes fast.

4. Don’t go cheap on hardware

There are plenty of options for live-streaming when it comes to equipment. When you’re out and about, a quality smartphone can be good enough to live-stream on the fly without too much worry over lighting and sound.

But if you’ve got a static setup in your home office, workplace, or studio, you need to be a bit more concerned about your equipment.

Sound quality is especially important. If your audience can’t hear you, there’s no reason for them to stay tuned in.

Always do a few test recordings to sample the sound and make sure everything sounds great before you go live.

5. Be funny, but with a purpose

Don’t make the mistake of trying to be funny just because you think you need to be funny. It can come off as poorly as a forced joke before a serious speech. On the other hand, don’t be stoic and serious because you’re afraid people won’t find you funny.

The right type of humor, with a purpose, can keep people entertained and will help improve your personal brand. The content you share is more memorable when it’s funny and encourages viewers to return and share what they’ve seen.

When working humor into your live stream, always remember to work within the boundaries of your brand message and personality.

6. Maintain authenticity

Avoid going over the top just to drive a point or create controversy for the sake of trying to gain views. You don’t want to grow your personal brand in a direction that doesn’t accurately reflect your true character.

When you try to create a character that doesn’t match you or say things out of character, the audience will eventually catch on, and it will reflect poorly on you. You wind up confusing your audience when you act differently from one video to another.

7. Diversify your content

Don’t just rely on live broadcasting to build your personal brand. It’s only one tactic—a part of a much larger and robust content strategy.

While it’s a great way to share ideas, think of it as a means for repurposing some of your best content.

Go through the topics you’ve covered while guest-blogging or writing on your own site. Review Q&As or interviews you’ve done, and pick out the gems. Use those as the foundation for a quick live broadcast to share great information.

Use live feed videos in addition to other content marketing methods to reach more audience segments and grow the visibility of your personal brand.

8. Build your audience to promote your stream

You won’t see much traffic when you initially start live streaming, which is why it’s important to start building your audience early on. There’s no better time than now.

Promote your other content through social channels to draw traffic and increase engagement for your articles and ideas. This way the initial engagement is in place, and you have some kind of baseline audience when you begin.

If you’re using native streaming on Facebook or broadcasting on other channels and sharing through social, you can always promote the replay.

The bulk of your viewership will come from video replays, which also might be shared on other channels.

Most importantly, be sure to actively engage the people joining your live stream. This keeps the comments up, spreads the visibility of the viewers’ activities, and encourages sharing.

9. Always bring value

Every video you create needs to have a purpose, not just random rambling. Whatever takeaway you’re providing should be made clear almost immediately. That’s the hook to get the attention of the viewer.

With the uptick in video and live streaming and with on-demand content available via mobile devices, people have developed pretty short attention spans.

Share that value upfront to keep them engaged.

Be obvious right from the start about the topic you want to cover. Say, for example: “Today, I’m going to talk about…” or “I’m going to show you…”

Remember, a live stream is another form of content marketing. When producing content, you always need to provide value, perhaps in a form of a takeaway. That’s what keeps people coming back and greatly increases the odds of shares, opt-ins, and continued engagement.

This clip from a tour of Arnold Palmers’ office by his long-time friend Doc brought sheer storytelling gold for golf enthusiasts who followed the live stream.

10. Brand yourself

Don’t forget one of the most important points of live streaming to build your personal brand: introduce yourself.

It doesn’t matter what you’re talking about or how short the video is going to be, always tell your audience who you are. You could also include where you are if you’re trying to brand yourself by location.

You never know who is watching, and every video could be their first introduction to what you’re sharing, so always start out with “Hey, it’s so-and-so, and I’m at…”

11. Go live regularly

With live streaming, there’s nothing wrong with creating a schedule and sticking to it. It won’t seem any less authentic, but it’s not absolutely necessary—not like having a blogging schedule.

What’s most important with live streaming in terms of frequency is just doing it often and regularly.

The more often you stream live video, the easier it gets. Your comfort and confidence will increase, which will ultimately improve the quality of the videos and the value you share.

Your audience will also come to expect regular videos and will look forward to your live stream, which is the keystone of personal branding: getting people to return and stay engaged, trusting in you to share your knowledge.

Conclusion

Live streaming is incredibly easy and doesn’t require a huge investment, but it can do wonders for your brand. It creates a visual connection with your audience, especially the segments who prefer video over reading.

Keep those videos short, stream valuable content frequently, and you’ll see consistent growth in the number of live views as well as post-live replays of your content.

Have you been using live video? What have you learned?

from Social Media Marketing http://ift.tt/2jEOPea via Social Media Marketing

The Proven Guide to Using Live Video to Build Your Personal Brand

2015 was a banner year for video and, in my opinion, a big year for video marketing—something that ramped up through 2016.

We saw a lot of brands jumping on the video bandwagon as Snapchat gained steam, Instagram unleashed live video, Twitter released video auto-play, and Facebook introduced video ads and, of course, native live streaming.

Live streaming has become one of the best ways to forge an authentic, one-on-one connection with customers. Brands are using live video to build a larger, stronger presence and reach audiences on the fly like never before.

As a professional, you can leverage live video to give your personal brand the same kind of lift.

You should strongly consider live video, given that by late 2017 video is expected to make up more than 70% of all traffic on the web.

Here’s how you can get the most out of live video to bolster your brand.

1. Make your videos personal

There are a lot of ways to present information in videos, but most fit into two formats.

Type 1: The video focuses on objects, backgrounds, or scenery while you narrate. In some videos, I’ve seen marketers record in “first person” while they travel. You see what they see, and they narrate.

Type 2: The camera is on the broadcaster, so you’re in the center of the frame. The viewers’ eyes are on you while you’re talking and presenting your information or ideas. The occasional pan to include surrounding sights or other people occurs, but for the most part it stays on you.

The second type is what you should stick with when working to build your personal brand. Videos should stay personal because that’s how you’re going to make a personal connection and build your brand.

It’s easy to turn off a video of a place or an object like a whiteboard. It’s not as easy to do that when you’re in the video, making eye contact with the audience, speaking to them directly.

2. Don’t script it

If you’re not used to streaming or broadcasting live and the idea of speaking off the cuff makes you nervous, you should relax. Everyone feels that. Eventually, you’ll get over it with practice as long as you keep at it.

Just don’t make the mistake of trying to script your videos.

Reading from a script ruins authenticity. It’s okay to be prepared, but you want your video to feel natural. People are attracted to those who are confident in themselves and capable of being themselves.

Rather than trying to read from a script, which creates an off-camera glance or stare with unnatural delivery, prepare yourself with a handful of bullet points.

Those bullet points can guide your delivery, and you can fill in the rest as you go. Don’t write those down; rather, keep those bullet points or target ideas in mind. Recall them, and practice a few times before you go live, and you’ll be good to go.

Jason Carr did a great “impromptu” live feed en route from his old job at Fox 2 Detroit to his new job at Local 4 Detroit News.

Hey!

Posted by Jason Carr on Monday, May 23, 2016

3. Go for quick delivery

Even the most devoted among your audience are going to tune in only for so long. If you want to grab people on the fly and grow your audience quickly, make sure you’re consistently providing a fast delivery on your ideas.

Long videos aren’t likely to get clicked on, so keep content as short as possible.

When I’m browsing content and a video grabs my attention, one of the first things I check is its length. I’ll happily drop a few minutes on a video, but those that exceed 6-10 minutes had better have a serious hook if they want me to click.

Wistia’s study on video length shows that shorter videos consistently get more engagement.

For a live stream, aim for 5 minutes or less. If you’re consistent with short clips, your audience will be more likely to tune in again and again because they know the delivery is quick and the value comes fast.

4. Don’t go cheap on hardware

There are plenty of options for live-streaming when it comes to equipment. When you’re out and about, a quality smartphone can be good enough to live-stream on the fly without too much worry over lighting and sound.

But if you’ve got a static setup in your home office, workplace, or studio, you need to be a bit more concerned about your equipment.

Sound quality is especially important. If your audience can’t hear you, there’s no reason for them to stay tuned in.

Always do a few test recordings to sample the sound and make sure everything sounds great before you go live.

5. Be funny, but with a purpose

Don’t make the mistake of trying to be funny just because you think you need to be funny. It can come off as poorly as a forced joke before a serious speech. On the other hand, don’t be stoic and serious because you’re afraid people won’t find you funny.

The right type of humor, with a purpose, can keep people entertained and will help improve your personal brand. The content you share is more memorable when it’s funny and encourages viewers to return and share what they’ve seen.

When working humor into your live stream, always remember to work within the boundaries of your brand message and personality.

6. Maintain authenticity

Avoid going over the top just to drive a point or create controversy for the sake of trying to gain views. You don’t want to grow your personal brand in a direction that doesn’t accurately reflect your true character.

When you try to create a character that doesn’t match you or say things out of character, the audience will eventually catch on, and it will reflect poorly on you. You wind up confusing your audience when you act differently from one video to another.

7. Diversify your content

Don’t just rely on live broadcasting to build your personal brand. It’s only one tactic—a part of a much larger and robust content strategy.

While it’s a great way to share ideas, think of it as a means for repurposing some of your best content.

Go through the topics you’ve covered while guest-blogging or writing on your own site. Review Q&As or interviews you’ve done, and pick out the gems. Use those as the foundation for a quick live broadcast to share great information.

Use live feed videos in addition to other content marketing methods to reach more audience segments and grow the visibility of your personal brand.

8. Build your audience to promote your stream

You won’t see much traffic when you initially start live streaming, which is why it’s important to start building your audience early on. There’s no better time than now.

Promote your other content through social channels to draw traffic and increase engagement for your articles and ideas. This way the initial engagement is in place, and you have some kind of baseline audience when you begin.

If you’re using native streaming on Facebook or broadcasting on other channels and sharing through social, you can always promote the replay.

The bulk of your viewership will come from video replays, which also might be shared on other channels.

Most importantly, be sure to actively engage the people joining your live stream. This keeps the comments up, spreads the visibility of the viewers’ activities, and encourages sharing.

9. Always bring value

Every video you create needs to have a purpose, not just random rambling. Whatever takeaway you’re providing should be made clear almost immediately. That’s the hook to get the attention of the viewer.

With the uptick in video and live streaming and with on-demand content available via mobile devices, people have developed pretty short attention spans.

Share that value upfront to keep them engaged.

Be obvious right from the start about the topic you want to cover. Say, for example: “Today, I’m going to talk about…” or “I’m going to show you…”

Remember, a live stream is another form of content marketing. When producing content, you always need to provide value, perhaps in a form of a takeaway. That’s what keeps people coming back and greatly increases the odds of shares, opt-ins, and continued engagement.

This clip from a tour of Arnold Palmers’ office by his long-time friend Doc brought sheer storytelling gold for golf enthusiasts who followed the live stream.

10. Brand yourself

Don’t forget one of the most important points of live streaming to build your personal brand: introduce yourself.

It doesn’t matter what you’re talking about or how short the video is going to be, always tell your audience who you are. You could also include where you are if you’re trying to brand yourself by location.

You never know who is watching, and every video could be their first introduction to what you’re sharing, so always start out with “Hey, it’s so-and-so, and I’m at…”

11. Go live regularly

With live streaming, there’s nothing wrong with creating a schedule and sticking to it. It won’t seem any less authentic, but it’s not absolutely necessary—not like having a blogging schedule.

What’s most important with live streaming in terms of frequency is just doing it often and regularly.

The more often you stream live video, the easier it gets. Your comfort and confidence will increase, which will ultimately improve the quality of the videos and the value you share.

Your audience will also come to expect regular videos and will look forward to your live stream, which is the keystone of personal branding: getting people to return and stay engaged, trusting in you to share your knowledge.

Conclusion

Live streaming is incredibly easy and doesn’t require a huge investment, but it can do wonders for your brand. It creates a visual connection with your audience, especially the segments who prefer video over reading.

Keep those videos short, stream valuable content frequently, and you’ll see consistent growth in the number of live views as well as post-live replays of your content.

Have you been using live video? What have you learned?

from Quick Sprout http://ift.tt/2jrNGHU from Blogger http://ift.tt/2iQsqe3 January 13, 2017 at 09:38PM