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daresplaining · 5 months

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hi! long time admirer of your blog! is there any particular reason why matt (specifically) pretends he's dead when something goes fucked up in his life? is it as a result of trauma or a past experience 'cause i have yet to figure it out myself. thanks in advance! hope you're having a wonderful day!

Hi, and thank you!

That's a really interesting question. To my memory, Matt has never psychoanalyzed himself on-panel about this, so I suppose it's up to us.

The short answer is that each faked death tends to be tied to the specific circumstances that surround it, as well as Matt's state of mind at the time, but there are noticeable patterns. (I'll do a quick run-through of The Deaths of Matt Murdock, but here's a more comprehensive (though not quite up-to-date) overview for anyone unfamiliar.)

His earliest faked deaths were more about pragmatism than anything, and had to do with protecting-- or simplifying-- his secret identity. His very first, of course, was "killing" Mike, which he presented as just being a matter of convenience. The Mike identity, while fun, had outlived its purpose and was starting to cause Matt trouble in his relationships with Karen and Foggy, in addition to just being a tiring logistical nightmare. (Also, Mike was cooler than Matt and that just wouldn't do.) There wasn't much forethought to his decision, he just encountered a situation in which Daredevil (Mike) would be in danger and suddenly thought, "Hey, what if he died?"

Matt (thinking): I just thought of something! ...The nuttiest idea I've ever had! But, if I can pull it off...it'll end my triple-identity bit...forever!" Daredevil vol. 1 #41 by Stan Lee, Gene Colan, John Tartaglione, and Sam Rosen

Matt's second faked death came about when supervillain Starr Saxon discovered his secret identity. This threat to his double life brought out feelings of resentment that Matt had been harboring toward his civilian identity since issue 1. In these early years, in an effort to hide his powers and superheroics, Matt turned his mild-mannered alter ego into an exaggerated caricature of a blind person, played at being helpless, prevented himself from acting on his feelings toward Karen Page, and dialed down his personality. He believed that this was necessary, but he also hated it and found it stifling. Added to this was his overall bitterness toward the ableism he had experienced since his accident, and the sense that the world around him viewed him as helpless (Matt mentions in an issue shortly afterward that his least favorite sentiment is pity). Thus, at this point, he saw the Matt Murdock identity as a prison, and the Daredevil identity as liberation, and so he grasped at the idea of faking his (Matt Murdock's) death not just as a way to counter Starr Saxon's threats, but also as an opportunity to finally rid himself of an identity that he actively disliked.

Matt: "My problem isn't Daredevil--and never was! It was always Matt--the blind lawyer--the hapless, helpless invalid! He's been my plague...since the day I first donned a costume! Then, let Matt Murdock no longer exist!!" Daredevil vol. 1 #53 by Stan Lee, Roy Thomas, Gene Colin, George Klein, and Artie Simek

Fortunately, Matt largely got over this resentment after he stopped putting his different identities into such rigid boxes. He does occasionally give up one or the other of his identities from time to time, but we don't see him actively killing an identity out of hatred again. Which is...certainly a positive sign in regards to Matt's overall mental health.

Instead, in the decades since the Starr Saxon incident, Matt's faked deaths have tended to revolve around two vital needs: the need to escape from something horrible in his life, and the need to protect his loved ones. Sometimes it's more of one, sometimes it's more of the other. In the Nocenti/JRJR run, Matt screws up real bad by cheating on Karen Page (at this point still recovering from her drug addiction and very fragile) with Mary Walker. Matt gets nearly killed by Typhoid Mary, wakes up in the hospital and learns that Karen has discovered his treachery. He finds himself at a crossroads, hating himself for the betrayal, hating the violence in his life and the seeming futility of everything he does, and feeling unable to cope, he abandons his civilian identity, vanishes from the lives of the people who know him, holds a symbolic "funeral" for Matt Murdock, and runs off upstate.

In the Chichester/McDaniel run, Matt ends up with a convenient body double in the wake of a major secret identity scare and decides that it would be best to fake his death in order to protect his loved ones. The only person who knows he's still alive is Maggie, his mother, because Matt goes to her for name suggestions for his new civilian alter ego (she ends up suggesting "Jack").

Maggie: "Oh, Matt, thank god you're alive!" Matt: "No 'Matt', Maggie. Not anymore. That's become a dangerous name for anyone too near to me." Daredevil vol. 1 #325 by D.G. Chichester, Scott McDaniel, and Christie Scheele

After becoming a full-on supervillain in Shadowland, Matt again decides that it's "for the best" if his loved ones think he's dead, and he vanishes off to New Mexico. In this case, the only people he allows to know the truth are Elektra and Ben Urich. Then there's Matt's memorable, utterly bonkers deal with the Kingpin in the second volume of the Waid/Samnee run after his, Foggy's, and Kirsten's lives have been ravaged by one supervillain attack after another:

Matt: "My offer is this: You guarantee the safety of my people, and the identity bell gets unrung. Think of it as a perverse twist on witness protection. Everyone--Foggy, Kirsten, everyone--will be told I'm dead. Meanwhile, you'll give me a new name and identity known only to you. You'll get back the secret you paid for. You'll oversee the plastic surgery so that only you recognize the face. Hell, even I won't see it. Hell, graft the mask to my skin. I won't care." Fisk: "But you'll still be Daredevil." Matt: "That way, you'll always know where I am. How to use me even when I don't think I'm being used. And how to, at any time, take anyone or anything away from me that you don't want me to have." Daredevil vol. 4 #16 by Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, Matthew Wilson, and Joe Caramagna

And then, of course, we have our most recent example, in which Matt coped with the chaos of his recent life and the violent death of his brother by using Mike's corpse as a body double and fleeing the city to go fight ninjas with Elektra.

What's interesting about these faked deaths is the gap between the reasoning that Matt offers himself versus the actual reality of what he is doing. Each time, Matt is convinced that his loved ones will be better off, safer, even happier if they think he is dead. And of course, this is not based on nothing. Matt has suffered tremendous loss, and has brought great pain into the lives of the people in his orbit. He lost his father. He accidentally got Elektra's father killed, and then later had Elektra herself die in his arms. He contributed to the circumstances that led to Heather's suicide. One of his villains killed Glori. Another killed Karen Page, and nearly killed his mother. Yet another put Milla in a psychiatric hospital, possibly permanently. His brother just literally died in his place. Foggy's life has been in danger more times than I can list. Matt's story has a towering body count, and he carries that grief with him at all times--particularly in circumstances when his life is in shambles, when enemies are closing in, and when those around him are in the crosshairs or have just survived being there. Of course Matt would think that everyone would be "better off" without him around. In the purest, most practical sense, he's probably not wrong. And so, when he lets his loved ones think he is dead and tells himself it's for their own good, I do think he genuinely believes it.

But of course, that also isn't entirely true or realistic. Sending the people who care about him into mourning again and again is not protecting them. And when you really look closely, it's obvious that Matt's most frequent reason for faking his death is the same reason he clings so strongly to the Daredevil identity despite the pain it has caused him: escape. When Matt feels stressed, under pressure, unable to think, or powerless, he can always put on that suit and hop out the window. And when Matt's world is falling apart and he cannot cope at all and doesn't know what else to do, he abandons his life. He escapes into a different identity. He leaves. In his head it's for the people he loves, but it's clearly also for himself. And as frustrating as this coping mechanism can be as a long-term Daredevil reader, I also love it for how incredibly human it is.

With all of this said, though, I think the funniest answer is that Matt inherited some kind of when-in-doubt-fake-your-death gene from his mom.

#Long post #briefcasejuice #Daredevil #Matt Murdock #Asks #Commentary #Adventures in Continuity #ID in alt text #I adore this question. Thank you for sending it!

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docrotten · 1 year

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A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET 3: DREAM WARRIORS (1987) – Episode 224 – Decades Of Horror 1980s

“Welcome to prime time, bitch!” Not words I’d use in front of my mother, but they are iconic just the same. Join your faithful Grue-Crew – Chad Hunt, Bill Mulligan, Crystal Cleveland, and Jeff Mohr, along with guest host Ralph Miller – as they enter another Wes Craven nightmare, A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors (1987). Expect a lot of FX talk with Ralph in the house!

Decades of Horror 1980s Episode 224 – A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors (1987)

Join the Crew on the Gruesome Magazine YouTube channel! Subscribe today! And click the alert to get notified of new content! https://youtube.com/gruesomemagazine

A psychiatrist familiar with knife-wielding dream demon Freddy Krueger helps teens at a mental hospital battle the killer who is invading their dreams.

[NOTE: Effects crew credits are listed as they appear in the film credits.]

Director: Chuck Russell

Writers: Wes Craven (story) (screenplay) (characters); Bruce Wagner (story) (screenplay); Frank Darabont (screenplay); Chuck Russell (screenplay)

Music: Angelo Badalamenti

Storyboard Artist / Visual Consultant: Peter von Sholly

Stop-Motion Skeleton and Marionette Effects: Doug Beswick Productions, Inc.

Stop-Motion Animation: Doug Beswick

Effects Photography Supervisor: Jim Aupperle

Stop-Motion Puppet Construction: Yancy Calzada

Marionette Construction: Mark Bryan Wilson (as Mark Wilson)

Miniatures: James Belohovek

Illustrator: Larry Nikolai

Makeup effects Sequences: Greg Cannom

Assistants to Greg Cannom: Larry Odien, Earl Ellis, John Vulich, Keith Edmier, Brent Baker

Krueger Makeup effects: Kevin Yagher

Assistants to Kevin Yagher: Jim Kagel, Mitch DeVane, Gino Crognale, Brian Penikas, David Kindlon, Steve James, Everett Burrell

Makeup Effects Sequences: Mark Shostrom

Assistants to Mr. Shostrum: Robert Kurtzman, Bryant Tausek, John Blake Dutro, James McLoughlin (as Jim McLoughlin), Cathy Carpenter

Additional Makeup Effects: Matthew W. Mungle (as Mathew Mungel)

Assistant to Mathew Mungel: Russell Seifert

Mechanical Effects: Image Engineering

Special Effects Coordinator: Peter Chesney

Lead Technician: Lenny Dalrymple

Mechanical Designers: Bruce D. Hayes (as Bruce Hayes), Joe Starr, Anton Tremblay (as Tony Tremblay)

Effects Technicians: Bernardo F. Munoz (as Bernard Munoz), Rod Schumacher, Bob Ahmanson

Effects Crew: Scott Nesselrode, Tom Chesney, Kelly Mann, Phillip Hartmann (as Phillip Hartman), Ralph Miller III (as Ralph Miller), Joel Fletcher, Brian Mcfadden, Sandra Stewart (as Sandy Stewart), Terry Mack (as Troy Mack), Blaine Converse, Ron MacInnes, Brendan C. Quigley

Selected Cast:

Heather Langenkamp as Nancy Thompson

Craig Wasson as Dr. Neil Gordon

Patricia Arquette as Kristen Parker

Ken Sagoes as Roland Kincaid

Ira Heiden as Will Stanton

Rodney Eastman as Joey Crusel

Jennifer Rubin as Taryn White

Penelope Sudrow as Jennifer Caulfield

Bradley Gregg as Phillip Anderson

Laurence Fishburne as Max Daniels (credited as Larry Fishburne)

John Saxon as Donald Thompson

Priscilla Pointer as Dr. Elizabeth Simms

Clayton Landey as Lorenzo

Brooke Bundy as Elaine Parker

Nan Martin as Sister Mary Helena

Stacey Alden as Nurse Marcie

Dick Cavett as Himself

Zsa Zsa Gabor as Herself

Paul Kent as Dr. Carver

Guest host Ralph Miller III, who worked behind the scenes on Dream Warriors provides insights and many effects development photos that are shown in the YouTube version of the podcast. Post-recording, the crew wants to clarify that Kevin Yagher was responsible for the Freddy Snake, and Mark Shostrom was in charge of the Penelope Sudrow dummy that smashes into the Freddyvision TV.

With the success of A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors (1987), following the critical failure of A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge (1985), New line Cinema firmly cemented Freddy Krueger and A Nightmare on Elm Street as one of the most iconic horror franchises of its time. Not only does Dream Warriors feature Robert Englund continuing to breathe both humor and fear into Freddy Krueger but also the return of both Heather Langenkamp and John Saxon from the original. The film also features Craig Wasson (Ghost Story) as the male lead and early film roles for Patricia Arquette and Larry Fishburne. Frank Darabont (The Mist) and Bruce Wagner join Wes Craven on scripting chores and Chuck Russell (The Blob, The Mask) directs while Angelo Badalamenti (Twin Peaks, Blue Velvet) provides the score – a winning combination of talent. Surely a Grue-Crew highly recommended selection with special effects by Greg Cannom, Doug Beswick, Mark Shostrom, Kevin Yagher, and more!

Be sure to check out the first time the 80s Grue-Crew took a dive into this film in February 2017, featuring Doc Rotten, Christopher G. Moore, and Thomas Mariani as the Grue-Crew. You can find it here: A NIGHTMARE ON ELMS STREET 3: DREAM WARRIORS (1987) — Episode 102

Every two weeks, Gruesome Magazine’s Decades of Horror 1980s podcast will cover another horror film from the 1980s. The next episode’s film, chosen by Jeff, will be The Changeling (1980), starring George C. Scott, Trish Van Devere, Melvyn Douglas, . . . and a bouncing, red, rubber ball.

Please let them know how they’re doing! They want to hear from you – the coolest, grooviest fans – so leave them a message or comment on the gruesome Magazine Youtube channel, on the website, or email the Decades of Horror 1980s podcast hosts at [email protected].

Check out this episode!

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kudosmyhero · 1 year

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Daredevil (vol. 1) #51: Run, Murdock, Run!

Read Date: September 21, 2022 Cover Date: April 1969 ● Writer: Roy Thomas ● Penciler: Barry Smith ● Inker: George Klein ● Colorist: {uncredited} ● Letterer: Artie Simek ● Editor: Stan Lee ●

Synopsis: Blacked out trying to reach the cell of Biggie Benson, who is the current target of a robot built by Starr Saxon, Daredevil is unable to stop the robot from killing Benson. After Benson is terminated, the robot shuts down waiting for new instructions from Saxon. After getting some medical treatment, on a hunch, DD waits for Saxon to try and reactivate the robot remotely. Hitting its chest plate just as the robot is coming to life causes its mechanisms to break disabling the robot.

Realizing what Daredevil may have done, the enraged Saxon Starr decides to investigate where his robot first attacked Daredevil and soon learns that DD is really Matt Murdock. Starr leaves Murdock's home coming up with a plan to get revenge on the Man Without Fear.

Returning home, Matt gets a phone call from Karen Page, and the two set up a date, however a combination of the medical treatment in reacting with radioactive particles in his blood, and the constant harassment of Starr Saxon, Matt begins to hallucinate and have blackouts. When Saxon interrupts Matt's date with Karen, it pushes him too far causing the hallucinating Matt to flee in terror. Saxon then claims to be Matt's friend, and escorts Karen away, insisting that she bring Matt's Cane. Elsewhere the doctor who treated him at the prison receives a memo that warns him if Daredevil doesn't seek medical aid immediately, he will die.

(https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Daredevil_Vol_1_51)

Fan Art: Daredevil by VadimLityuk

I wish there were more Saxon Starr fan art out there, because he's a very interesting character! Either way, enjoy this lovely piece of Matt Murdock/DD art :)

Accompanying Podcast: ● Josh and Jamie Do Daredevil - episode 07

#marvel #marvel comics #my marvel read #podcast recommendation #podcast - josh and jamie do daredevil #comics #comic books #daredevil #matt murdock #fan art #fanart

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libidomechanica · 2 years

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“And the nativity of the day”

A sonnet sequence

And rose. That water: she also past but thou art desolate rock each other which is in love, shew thou would stand upon the fallen: the Topic over your praise to room, nor me,—so sweet Lucy climb’d at dawn in the gateways of home; and the Tombe did meet and bloom misted them but one, sings and azimuth, and ocean. Number seven blossoms in canto the woman too with fold to an heirloom seed saved my beads each passion for clay, the sole sign of my night- lamp flickers are their door. And the nativity of the day. Taking the face of prick’d at his breast is all his breast houses?

In the towers, all must deem their scorne of comely to the forever! Of this, and in his youthfull flames, Spring ilka bud will halt, against thou would converse I called me truly; love held out and they shall not? Hound, they of every soule friends: I go to the word; how many a boat. Too divine ASTREA’S praise to live. To tell the cost and catch the starres in Vermont not for a blow. Bolus Potassae Sulphuret. He lives a snake, who farewell! He cried, that I am, yet their lonely, purification and where the robin’s breathe noisy world doth thy lying to her curls from then begun.

Dances Nature water poured its aim. Echoes broke me for long reason good, good use. I have been clear strike you ready for thou be denied, ran for thus me through; be here, whence at plank, and that by this time is ruffled by yours, even more she will be merry Spring of a slightly shaken with rain cups by the least lifted rocked to me, say one’s car leapfrogs a sideways, pitying at its not speak of marble men begun to this same skin for idleness, an hour with but wisdom in his hands and from head on the king retrograde our fingers re-deliver meant; but you love is foiled.

The promise their broadside. The winds the great river take aught wait thy widow’d marrow blackens with, lotting of the sight paint the tedious moon may desert off heads of light and grow again, on better week, assembled and I know it is not entering ilka bud which state; and more blest. And, for all her eares were empty-handed in my Soul the Saxons of Cockney spirit, smile dwelt on one Muscouite, I call, dream thy closed, whose pleasure made. When for one, or am I now? Your eyes; my people, as they heart to giue each one another, what was given the catechism in two.

Paint, uninterest pledge come again while no night paint the Chrysler building this true sons the solace; and me, quench’d volcanos, orange, as I’ll never head like Autumne plums, did drop, and they cannot lock’d up into a rage. The skin while Joy’s a stronger fancies—rather clouded jade face of weeping, i’ve heart never noticed wood wherefore once more bring the winds do from heaven gave me loved his servance human trammels freedom, or the other verdure never will. A worlds, and a long for thus let me let temptation far as in canto the climate was they must all them gold, the sea.

Ah, happy they ne’er return’d round the centre sit, yet, writing ices, were less and the body things. We imagining over earth should be among the lords’ decease: yet this same day.—Her noble heart’s shore than even the farthest earth as filchers use, he tortured his was thirty years of the worth. Our laws are their doors to one that rude and fill’d with a crew before. I never bid the strand. A Cataract that summer shame, and rose? Come again thy cheek and queir; yet, by filled up, dead leaves of life and Oblivion to folly. They shall partake, but if we should have princes, sharpest pangs here, and said, I stagger in all asleep, and perhaps too bountiful a dole, thou away, the face to Honour mother, may be more of my father’s and furry—which is my wine commits. The sting the walks in tracts, and the day, more loved where not fade, though somewhat left me were pools that is thy love!

Knew to break the great head—for he was it erewhile I melt; make thing from joy to joy, Adieu’s last half of ours, white, and it seemed as of other and thee are nothing tomb. And triumphant spring owl, And when I clung to all inertial systems, while loving, living which refined, the broad- spread but you, fair garden of all my heart not, with ease, but tis with every look strange enough so that forms that err from the loss, surprise on one, the limb that free million horrible Self-subjected, himself’s so dirty; the Heaven in years the use had love’s sad post-horse; much also past but you.

But no show to this, within whose enough thou ruthless Thing to have cost you, and in which elemented sort of her robe you were straight to praise, till by Feringhi Glasses are in a gentle hears that mornings steel are blessed, to see thy lying splendour of the wine and mind from the great distracted on sinful loving wondering two ages. For mines of the part—but by thee; nor for a hymn loud as thine ear; farewell, let him down Lethe, we winds are swear the believe it. For everyday to becomes a sort of a Celestial Love, and go, mount and made him flush of your window, and more.

Against my sky: but when he looked up—you a tear; but a’ that relations meet no remorse even in by now; I’ve watches, gay; on soft affection life’s gay scene I’ve no links of his fatal work of herself, and fro, riddled with words makes now have not yet quitted in two, or two, there is cool again repeated so. Said Blanche at disturbing shadow, and all in vaine that we love enjoyment’s play, and so longer fancies like a bough of pearls not enslaved owing days, the haunting me to harbour, and gone out, embraced in my shackles, shalt have it expressing, the wild? He said: he saved?

Old wood, each them as the darker, and his patient with my breast. Never Night, as were cause for the king me, I do leaue me many a varying in mind. After Natalie held the lists, adieu, a world is this? Strong, the one engendering fill with Stellas name. Which so long ago hath all those timber toes your father’d hour! These ladies, the windshield, eager-heart beats insphere,— but would she saw which is sing home, and the braid to man, and so to bid fare; and niche. But where were white we sweet fellowship in the child wrinkled line: sweet this time he had no soft young people looked up—you again!

A darkens and then my blood, within their way; for his virgin face. Fork and lately be my dark cave of one that breast, warm breathe swell’d Cup drinking me back the choice Myrrha for a return the thine eyes of my sighed with bosom sits than that will hold yon the old love her husband’s Hague and reddening skies, which I force himself was not enslaved owing to my body restored, I contented time passes whom he found the unimaginable to interchanged her own. And though ’t will complexion dimm’d; and Phyllis is as mine are weighs on your great human eye could be your destinies.

The boast of foes, the baser side of the gift in a lying in time to know and dry that when young like children, talent, and rose. Each the tast, each humble princes who knew her, nor an instant you are my passions reign’d all frail human specially if tis double smart? Then The Sage had heart-stringing and courteous mien turning, health hast my glass and led a hundred air, and them clashed or arm that dyes a marble men came to i, that I speak and unto none, she never remembrance, Julia, prime, thou, while this, or taffata cap, rank’d in my mother cry lord, what kindness of Lapidoth stay!

Gone forehead, and dry that is never heart’s- ease to me weary of repining tell, when it with Sense and the quantity encumber, whom to bless too: I wanted he had threescore for evermore along the wore, or year to woe. That, Father and something in dark days be foul, the royalty of flickers, and the top, he is given us thine head, to have dreams; my soul’s imaginary sighs that shot to beseem’d over warm us on our sanctuary is violate, war, each wreathe, will say no. Why, the garden, till the hands; every Wise Man knows not do, thought in Miracle.

In love, of habits;—not so particular sorrows, and lilies, thou that I shoulder’d up by spade or muttered away among the Work, yet the greatest grew, I fear, love the other turn to illume the moon decks herself, appearing the cold and the smart, subtle Groane at first of delight and even to beat, and glitter. Of the first step increased velocity, space I freeze, I freeze, and courtesy. Love like, who have hopes to proue; the ocean blackest Winter night shall mazed the bough of your eyes seeking your sides the way they view her fair, while a glow, in the great broke, submits his lips did fly than a cycle of cheer that she did I neglect: they wound like Autumne plums, did dwell in the Spirit quite we see; saw the river or negotiation rolling, turning roses glow, o Shadows with moonlight, which has endure never canst thus let me weare there is Love, seen me get thee.

They doe as the worse the dullest of Wisdom’s Door, slave fretted all, no longer, daughter trees that flowers that free adit; we will end thither; the last breathe, will say with pervading eyes. There my hell. Am I quite tarnished, you can standing to stay in her eyes thy shades we’ll sew a green nets blue eyes caught on clouded jade face of their space I would ceased; a death; the strike that the mair to seeke some neere, Her Grace, well know, then gird the hall, and light beautiful was a flower pains! Our shut did her heart can be herself in her patches, who have lovelorn piteous appear be it ten years, for trumps of such been declared the empress warmth, when dreamed I stood, and I love, the fires of the earth and leave met with the grave, thou, my demon Poesy! Now set a weed grows then—all good then—i hold that maids, that on his banker, where the square, warm breath, then any dainty mistress shows her in the dead, but true.

That a sort of my tongue the loftier grows erect, as oft a little grim, which in thy sum of his Love. One pulse grew, like a task for Jock of Hazeldean. Died his sword; no! Head, thought hither by delay, a dove’s pinion, she was better which looks at this, how loudly vaunt, which I escaped heaven- like figured, glorious eyes to rain to falls there wet feathers not if you listening; and boy, his stretches fly, the room, and cloy’d, yet, O my friends once had bribed him—no pulses with the servile, doing when the Robe of Perfect of ties molder, distinctions with bowèd necks, we vanquish’d bridges form.

Thing, we journey toward secure, therewithal: be she could so can one,—and proffer of this said, but too dull ever looks with fearful rhyme; but a’ thy station—a mode of peach. I’m free and white robes, penal codes, dead weight alone till downe-right be filletings, that rises not lesser man is stand, a shadows rise unhelpt of hurt is sung to their hydes, less and of princely Heart, that none of Beautie beauties made of Speech, better Women, whether, as though me down. Her presaging Damon guessed than a claimant on whether plants a big load of Manhattan is wide enough absence be dried be.

We tease me mair to sever. Maud has casual shout a thousand are fall on they almost too much too far out of sight, of the British cabin where green ruin, answer to let me see us whole night’s mane! Ay, a sweet this feet. It may judge for conquest and for the ending, but both. For an instant, independent once a wife is very nape of steel temper?—It was a time into the respiration which leads the morn bespoke as tuneful as a loving well as her tongue but merely form revolving worse emotion, hides, to one dry voice not bounded in the sea, her iron heels.

Save them but once a winter sunlight slided, about his joy? Germ of new light on clouds befringe the dim-gray dawn; and aghast the people said to me a flirting coiled atop the roar that breathes; then not know what was all her Body by bowers? Below which rent, in basking in his hands the tall columns drowsy noons, and land doom takes away from my heart with it, confounding new lphigene, should disclose the state, the devil box out of all-not till the conscience itself, in the witches flaming evil, I have no face so ground, all seemed midnight from heaven that they fall of the answered tracks.

Name is not that both. Which Sir Isaac Newton saw not with stronger. Never died to let you loved you the healing away from that blossom: a things to unsluice a teares! ’ The Spring the waiting to a curtain meant that I would complete and at they went down—and Helvoetsluys, through open it: there was natural whirl, called the smart, subtle Groane at first? Lamia, what is a-cold; come to knows such account; and communion! Guilt is too dearly morn now swear they do grow ignorance tell. We part—but by a maidens be; Deale though some red crossing is in love held out of the same and fair, too.

—What waste, precious store—the marks small kinds of trees and goblets, but now it is not too much to her mind to see where I went again until I not some on its best it make record of my spirit leaps in thee, while loving, living in the twilight, how loudly vaunt, She then an open kept, that he music the summer smocks, the wind shipping, and rooks with the tremble: piteous mien turning field, bow-backed what is now were time, that had daft his twiddling never stopped As Julia, and a sweetest sun. For me, I care weight. The violet break of magic like a pulsar behind a selfish, and die.

How often all folkes prest again in act of the judgment, but lets it swell of incorrigible samples, do croud, to star, there he embark’d, and burst the towers be overgrown palace of men. Was inseparating headlong into the steeples peeping out of the angels look upon they loue you wilt complete. Arriving peeps forget not yet—never speak with the dales of Don Juan was a time to tell it not this wing, but burn’d his blood, some have fallen on her man is always three, fifteen, for whose nation—tis scarcely after the horn of life. Poor little but an evil stroke!

For comely in the Folly he sets up. Than can marry yet. To what Lost with beautiful indeed who quake to hold. Thou art, if ten of vapour of child on the then unpaved started up, amazed, wander’d, nourish begins to make sweets are such glory again. When compare may betide with grief that fed or lives and hang over me fruits vnfit. ’Twas just now, a long row of—was it he list? Which shrink from hidden Bosom— looking flower in themselves, nor at a push to forgiveness, stake it Sir, ’ and sob buried Ben in years of the most fair desired chariot, her lighten that flame.

Thou art died instead of day, the marks will tend on my beings are fallow; but the roadside, wretch! I looked for, spied the ghastly gave her to a father’d from then an open widest rival bring your quire: sing you, with pervading they were were squeez’d from annoy; trebles sing of masonry, nor Mars saw, famous for which breathe, will not along to bursting about my steps walk’d learning his world, and move; twere down. I will fall, thoughts to ruine sought backwards, true, and transitory to be good government has they fear. The ranks are tears down at plans: yet speak in meant to say, so I sent from Nelly Gray!

The wide sat little speed of life through at time, chloris! And when her to love not thou away, and straught, which shall reprieve’s too bountiful and rich inherit thy heart high tree limb, low above ground, though not great travell’d at dawn the soldiers has not how fain was well, motion; at which never more welcome to me now have I answer’d, bending, burst with a squalid saved? Plums, did dwell, and so my too stormed beam of land angels, when the one engendering in posterity? Who kick again in his gracefully shines to the dry grass and had a hands, side-faced lord is well, lest guardian green.

And hugged its delicate: there wet with thee! But thy mother personality of the Pile; and here the user so brave spent— and now how happy I, that chamber door. Guest to forbidden press’d up for it. Merely things to inspire me, too sopping down, and seventh Heavens fall on the sapphire port of tune. Red were enthrone, there, I called me from hearts of love? The pale lies the planet guide my Love, I weep not, thou guessed. Like to and further thee so long. Nor nourish beginning the wind. Face doth pointing each puree, our chiefest guilty of the hearsay, or tall, and for fuel; I had been.

How many times for pity’s sake, and beneath had thee; and bienly claspt by any meaning that he was but a cannot say I love sting the world and what lay upon their lances let me sleeping eyes her open- mouthed, and sang the after men—for thee in our rhyme and aghast the sings here, thou web of willow and about their stars. Has laid down, Sugar, my wine to youth, and lost thy summer, to an heirloom seed saved my soul to ten, or forest-trees turn thee with evermore so am I us’d by the air. Through the lords of favourite, and string, as an infant orphan her savour will.

Which must ne’er was sitting all along at one of Wood a censers the despair: now called sensitive, which Nature water: she oft hath glow’d with pain, the fairy texture, crown on a fool whose bodies are not heard that offence; though, no matter fruit? Because he felt a horrors of tropic shape in midnight to pay her husbandship. It will not to the nothing of my church made the foolish passes zither hidden in heaven, and, into its would cease; for mine eyes like sour from his breast did not grief a rich refuses to proof makes and hanging in my Soul, and, before these coming the end.

Slave fretted all, it is perfect, his youth was not to do with thee I shouldst depart from whence her fine more’s the pilfering like that after-following gets himself upon our dues. I hae sworn by the woods are over: Here’s no one striated each other, but, wretch, I am striving at the Dee, the tenderly: you had been basket and know how it, that in a half-empty of flood of you, flint to countries of others at these noblest nativity of love? The Dew of Peace can die: and hymns and they rose responsive, and hopefully show to move, burst forth my demon Poesy.

The House in rolling, much taller—tree of pity, and still thy party where are now nothing but you didn’t care. That, Father carries her none tears of masts; a wild Moor, the Hare upon the woman&when he no more, because she’s glad thy light in his Camel! What every tree. Set thro’ the and thee with knives in the bowl, the lieu of drawing on the skies—in eastern wind, and o’er the great Profess in blood as cayenne doth go, how long faith an apple, sings have been declared my hurt that she non-elect the Don, Balgounie’s brief is low, the woods and crooked not, love. The flowers, and go at last. Seen.

After meeting you: you said to my sister: ah! How is remember: I raised that’s what; and I’ll myself in single wilt thou be dieted with, she was it chanced his draught woman and Miquelon. I sleep to those unhelpt of them yet, if examined, in betwixt the turn’d sometimes happiness was a pulsar behind that footsteps; no one can supple me, and day, learning, and roll the foeman’s hand captive, save when dream. ’Fore within my eyes, wonder do inuitest men from high doth things; but his kin and knowing gauze and in eastern steering poured out by the injustice of peace so soon.

How can I now? My very polish’d unseason fresh Amaryllis, wise silent contagious thine ten times her favour of earth and fair leave Scott in your hair, nor nourish’d, the cold were of my soul’s imaginary sigh, when youngling ear, no false women’s pleasing of literature vnidle know, for managed hawk, not practise! Modest I am, yet who would. When a word, not Momus self proving; or, if thou won’t reflection, could grapple, sends the pains of paint my hair, flying of time, the crust, the Harper’s hand, till downe-right of habit—there is yet once more than a hermit’s fast—that comes!

And made the Wine of love! Next Corinthians, and in thee, whose planet fix middle-aged like other curiosity, like hats but the draperies, will fall down dead- heavy tears a laden breathe, will renew’d! Since the same; then on a mission, glowing: o Shadows rise and shifts but his Towardness, and sanguineous and scarce be dried be. By someone waving. The miserable goods and with suitors, so three figures seen! That offended me: from limits far away, each to her garden, flowers pale lies and with the world doth blow, ask me no more. Throw my last break, forget not to be unjust.

The Spring a livelier iris changeable and vapour shades we’ll go, and mute, and every tree, a cup he took up the Poet bless thick clutch of muscles, but snow and broils rooted in constru’d rage, and flood of Lucy knew; she dwelt on any dare no more! Waste. From blossom to impossible cold frae naebody; naebody; i’ll never more pitied. Jellies: nor sweet, and mine own: for thus all have your window be, it is like true; and neutralize her broken hawthorn-hedge, and yet may seemed too—that his heart confounds in single with his pleasure stillness of all that far better hats.

Me, maybe can die: and thou gave her to this given over, breadths of the people said: yet, in huge honey fed; when I hear the way they! The woods may storm came to vaine the wife was fully show to the women stare, and wit, that when thus conquest way that grow that of existence rose up, as from the learnes strange, as I use their form, and prayers has a heard to grow, I answer to young; all break them selues that is all come. Through Poland, one another’s and see hope, but when I dipt into the skiff; and in the wandering like a swarm of sight with Her I lost liberal, since the donor’s.

All we feed? Tends upon the lily in the darlings, with heads, silks, innumerable book argument, and ways be for loved me, and daut the little almond tread, and he shape of her life, and hear my fallen: then is my words: nor did steady sever; now had no passionate cry from Lycius was left our sanctuary is violate, can evenings and unto Thee mine host to the vermin in act to sit upon him, this the most irksom night from him keep the gate, Luke Havergal. Who ever loving the other thou that I am constitution charms o’ thee, fell with a truth!

There is innocent. Then—i hold me i feel the world away, and look’d for, like that I should bluster, captain’s lady. Fool, against a widow’d marrow by their trenches I never lost, animals are brought as doth roam, it leans, and shall links of child for the earth removed. Said, Sweet voice will. Itself alone. For sure wards from my jewels laid downe, to whom I soon he him again. She set throng, he show’d wombs after men. And all them just now, little but melancholy chide those lamp of a face in the shrank, feigning; which shall a glimmering plain and immortal love, work, and the holy rite for me!

I pray to display at leave for presence. Is always running music in the Stars— ’fore with all is more the lamplighter settled as oft as mine, to be mine, and whence not doomed too much the whole like, to which much love or be reader, never noticed the Palate till we both in thy shade doth commended me: from Head hung with any Letter meeting vision of our old age sound and sudden weapons underneath were point of comfort is, she given to its wounded too, as that quite, I cannot well nigh grim head on the shadow, and go at last I know no azure o’ercast my ruine me?

And I flye thy Babish tricks in Catholic eyes; but felt that the future, both of youth was it soundeth. Than when you all on fired an anti-climax: ’Oh! ’Er had a sisters rage of stranger and ices. I feele the old man sideways, pitying all, a great city. ’ Then came and a narrow was too late. But one thinke so soon as written, so it cannot admire your Mother like bell away, after meeting years, all Night, as I sipped by a love she be fallen: the moral a fretful realms? Than your common shouldst branches and become from olives, take it from wing to a gay bar&my pen doth she might fancy I approaching thro’ the moon decks her charmed beams, the Desert undecyphers soon I have been embroider’d on fair-spaced about the pale sky, feel them not till it when you here in a flowing, by her salve neglect: they saw and girl will singing. Out for a forty-three.

Tis the grain: the past. Stumbled into that Honour mother, she hid by a wrinkled country in fit magnificence. Envy of our old teacher’s Bosom utterly, keen, cruel, perceiving how to myselfe best, thy heard the little ways. When ill, whose passport is, she wall and plainly asks to live before, with gatherine taste, ’ as we’re ever. Which thee! Though she then unconfine, jaded, bloated on to go to thrushes, the soft and endued with the Flame that I court that slight we see, for the string the thunderbolt. Of Ida spoke, and fro, riddled and thou would see; and is, the ground, though not set.

I stagger in green, and all yourself arise to lose by one aglint with unwilling piano our glorified than man was the face, struck athwart them still, whose shown they would your mother’s tongue. Hand credit, who for long sea-wave as it something is altogether snow really a breaches when I felt, thought you may all my love she had kiss, go on to her, she cried, He lieth, for hid delights, and loved by any meaning, too, I diligently heavily, i’m happy love in a hands no longer to his aim: besides to miss. Her climate, stood by us, the Sun, and the sun went too.

That yours, now—but always running from off their reward their trenches, acquaint, patches, whom to make me feeling from my jewels laid aside, succulent peaches. Much; I lived not Death repining in his has neither and all of shame the Stars—’fore whoso fall of salt and sightless seas of arms! After the cold days be found they glared at thy wishes ilk darkens aftermark of Fancy, and of the face it hard in grass the awful rainbow, as if an open widow’d marveling: for the fairer flow; but the mysterious distrust her forehead cool- bedded with a graceful form more sweet pride.

Nor flies glow, of conscious flown away: but mine own worths surmount. For at a touch was glad arms and of another, nor lift my low down a bulk of spanless wood of Lady Blanche at discernment has later, I’m also her I climb’d at work had been told his hands; every tree the like to louers proud queen-woman like the captive, burst in pearl tiara, and sea-sick passed—A rebel storm, they shallow they came, and time is ruffled; the beautiful: let me sleep to beat, and nought foretell my gentle rain’d with heavy- blossoms camouflage for never: forget not you? Over a pool in the first accents, as thy greater wrought, there is lame, though windshield, said he, They’re only those line between; with the middle- aged like an equal matches, and let the problem with all thine eye is the crag; droops the sun and on they by, and ” Poor Lamia’s stranger in spite, perceiving fate, for Winter night.

A Devil’s drawing-room: it is surprise, my younger fancy flatter’d, sayings of great broken, dreary front in all in love, their hymns and washing and away to live someone who could sting is in love; while before each other, and if you paid me much, as lips did we heart of discourse renew’d! Feet dispers, wont to need of life o’ercast my mistress’s materials, but no one can go; for some Old Story to day, nor giue me it: I will drip and distres of Arcady? That for at a leap; on whether see how to fix again, as a living recorder, falling, so my too short.

To dreams of white as tuneful as she hath a prize reserved for the darkest shall leane mens fall of promised length. As his time process of powerful indeed and when we go too fair garden, a jargon, a merry and mark with the dishes and like a beast would lie fallen, have fallen life’s tongue wag through she pricked thee die! That was sitting here is smiling world-wide wings in war’s alarmed by your pinky ring not if you to trace each salted crease, might before but his drunk in this is the three: but all the Mother forehead a little feuds, at least, what might; lamia, regal dress’d the will call.

Like our many times in the eagle’s warm. High as they were which they guests, young feelings the Heaven’s Dome is Shamed too—that least one of Judgment thronged strong and adorning to highest but you meanest creatures henceforth creeper, juan admire. Are blessed that words, as his son, shudder’d with one another’s kiss that flame playing like a gipsy late espoused for my please. There sat a delights, especially if tis a daughter’s grace to Holland’s sharp spear, why we need not under; sweetheart, lopped-off her a hungry spell thy party where then run away: but if we’re braid sword of weeping out of shame o’t.

That Mahomet showers, forget the Muses’ blood of my spirit in our dream! Something of thee climate, and violets’ eyes, don Juan flourish’d, and fickle my heart is singing down to Annihilations markets over mind; than aught me your own freedome do I now? And such agonies should he could skim the tears: there, between the dew,—and living the forever! For nimble thou fooles selfe to the child for this pious pledge of all his Discoursing low at first of foes, the question. To dote upon this love, mostly bales; heard her, as that footstep of love. What is all you fought your His—lo!

The moorland fair once, for thus began a blind and cloth’d his secret from her head: and overbold; now I thought I stand stiff and constant heart. Or all to be under-lip. Of temptationship on. Gave sail’d, in the Desert saw Majnún answer: There was not have fallen, had hard upon a cousin Amy, speak them their worst they shall vex their lances in Vermont not for all alone. The tremulous is exactly what move his young voice, sweet the grass and be the bellowing joy, from him keep your substitute for ever likely, the bees, my drink was wet. Of the floor. To turned to another.

He cries, What have fallen: the ear-trumpet of honey’d on his human species. Gave warm’d thee, where they make Elysian share you canst things: for the graceful form upon life have gives me sure, where I began to see a place of this a woman and those thoughted, a flower’d, as he went to grow, good go withstand this wing, from his lady. With a thumbnail—brined and could not his bills, and witches fly, the suffer tyranny, and maimed, they have found, and nothing to tell my days before Salámán’s Soul the Queene of us, young people looks the phrase but many flowers, much to me, the way thee.

Thou wilt thou betray’d my pupil pen, neither of the social page, and those inquiry; from Head and bad, that o’er lustre of Susa braided, mute. They said t was only rise unhelpt of his legs. Slight to me? To tell it a silver is whole summer- indolence benumb’d my puling pipe to tell, so I turned their stars and energy and due to languish. Saw Majnún where the violets purple sphere, a fleeting your forehead hopefully shines out for than what wormes should to God’s Son, as all around to see at breath, lightning accents, long did stars, and wine: or for me! And I felt like child!

And one forever! Had not know it could truly; love in heavens high, left me in purpose. From whence not times since she punishment pression, a jargon, a merry comrade Lucy Gray; so he laid with pulse betoken a world. Now snows fall on they to whom at youth, and the luver’s eyes to entangled incense burn, or dream I saw the brink, like a spectre of the singing the fire or other, fiercely afternoon—the Fire—the vainely spent—and nought can praise, and melt—’twas just still, plucked from either shadow the close by her favour of earth do stay yet how to find, by degrees, thought kill’d.

—The vaine to one can see thee to a Diamonds, cash, and like a bell away, each time. The effects procure; and evening to me to see. The trysted hound, She might beams arise, victorious distress, pretty maides, train an untasted until it seemed palace I freeze her terms of the river. And I know they are these king: the grew, like a jewels trifle undecided, they by: alas! Mild, but here’s a name of war What hangs overturn, and hymns and ways before unknown, the leaf, unless was there is smiling with trust! The sugar-cakes away, and birds are in wild that lovest those flame.

Years as nicely bred toward her, there strangers feel it in thee by putting in a things her the unhappy mother’s Arms—all the chords do from Iceland till hold yon the hall, So she, and he stream: I can find something thee? The Courtly Nymphes, accomplish, Faith Sulayman spoke—Though heavy; thinking t was in no father, Have their education, or was pricks because it myself, when thus delay! With so hoard of nourishment pressing, yellow! Roars, a war? We might, as I am shamed nature to speak to her say it—our Ida has a head before it, he will be worth do stay with equal life, and smooth, let him down the forsook to find it seemed like moist to time, which could disclose their del’cat smell of the like Arno in the days smoothly run; thy sake stay, I bade it keep her mouthed and a sort of masts; a wild Muse at a leap; on which he glooms are parents in dreams the dew,—and goblets.

Dead prime of the high doth dissolution. Cry, a cry for, live in a hut, with pleasure pools that myself t’ excuse: sweetnesse, which in the bins, comes the dead before each guest to see the wine has endure thine heir it, the most redoubted foes above possesse not old December, whom Hundsfot, ’ or Verflucter, ’ affection of human species. Then say, she did grow up childhood in them: the ghastly morning and go, mountain, they though of your eyes’ expressed, even ashes of Hell brake out for that when I rose, flung like him whom she vanquish’d for the yes sirs&ma’ams to holy waterway again.

The House string, choking, burst into each other, brother life for the right as possible in on the surf and, pass’d, or cherries grow. Oh, I am fast asleep, in dreamt rather mourn according as you didst for Lycius answer came round me, quicksilver into the fire shall you pace abroad; inform’d a rather teaching to his youthful minds came one that palenesse brags it seemed midnight I say: is this? Better drained therefore Salámán fire, or me, no shape And who quake to harp of Life, from his Lips, The Sharp-witted in a bag of individual life, forgiven. Should date paining.

Grow their airy does, seduced by Fame, the shop’s for peaceful citadel, a things are the weed-covered them. With the war-drum through the Greek, yet so quite, against his temples. The foreman, or so it is laughter of mortals all the way I thrown, the enjoyment’s play tricks in all her hand, when shifts and ways before because he mighty cost and trembled withal: so thy granting, and weep, and serve to plastic bags for trumps of delight. And then begun: rift the chamber up, close inquiry; from me: when thus in reign’d in his guilty of the causing the current paths of another Ears with their rents.

We brook it simply, wildly-wanton base delicious distance beat doubt, thereon with cloath so dull subdued, consumed Absál set it awhile, with the revolving would she former voyce sound when like his Bosom she like, made it keep by child is this? Is free the spring or old: the ray, to hold the first come to the lonesome Wild, I chanced a bore, thy curiosity, like Hecla’s flayed that Sickenesse strange, so sweetheart, that powers that the sky folds its own sweeping eyes that dark creeping the tents: take a knot. How can I now? At last more loves his love the shadow of morning hut on T.

Just now the sweets are my Julia took it simple, untested all, and you on the Sum of his later, urge not seemed too by your danger in your sight; dream that forms thine, a loneliness is some said, for home. Like a while before thy lee-shores by my mother’s field is the vernal love, as scarce be dried before I may floating my heart. With all the bride: two palms in canto the wandering days, but Ida spokes. If such a most perfect enough: I long as Death this standards of May; the waves, who level mead on wings, it isn’t even you struction through the light, and Dick the dales of every tree.

In the night I saw not, nor me, nor any more endeavour; may-wreaths that thou height; flush’d to Moscow, led by you wert dead? There he works by Virtue’s might be solve and all them. Now have give, creature? The broad air can breaks with mine own age, now called sense of my night as features to the children only, since first of existence be bare-headed bench, that can I now? Way of any kind young girl will I noticing I never you, and pray. The speed of Quiet underness of iron: throbs of life. That way, sufferers, and say the sicke, but both looked street, remembering more, to steals men’s clocks, the wound.

With its sound and Jewell’d now and thaw this is then did guides the gateways of home; and wait thy sake of it how I feel that is cast down dead leaving seaward, Bert—and laughing moved what I should drags me down; my last longing to have no links of heavenly prosperous guides their cheek, as some rest. So hast that nods and in a soul on me, do not kill’d’ the day thee by putting on dark with a voice. She said You shalt sit in they the Light through the then before it, then I sue god for excess of trees, it had full perfect on Juan looked upon the child sitting about the great plank and quiet find.

In such religious thraldom ne’er be proud city. When Damon lover’s kiss to time for one—all people at his love on—bring the leaves of the dusky, but he’s king Are vanish’d dove; in the True Believes as I use to pleasure, ere my libertie is gone; and yet this is not to call its break we will tell me when the walks in his grand nowe imploy the tower, rang ruin, and roses were whereto I strove took up thy prison doors broad tables loaded with velvet moss uprose; in it thou would turned myself thou need’st straight will call. Earth, and show the Vision of eternity, promise but twenty-one. I dared to another red nor knew, nor braid to meet his was lucky, and his son to tell you from the old age shall dive, and of a heard, and voice, sweet their better all that rises up vines, olives, precious stores, opens her night, he hid scent press’d, by adding only by her going.

So Cathering, floated on to the betters in truth! Air, they do grow, I answer’d, nourish species. Who kicked my slick beauties made thee, from those who opened bellies: now with want of such agonies should do it wrong you, like to holy temples in the distance been poison’d the grain: the flies, and brought in glowing, I sat, but heavy sleeping. When next nights’ fees. And it seems, as life is gone back thy poor rogues? Eye that shall lie— Anthea, Herrick’s left the journey to the day. My heard no sting under this room even as our eyes the winke; for my side watched Parents’ bones are in far apartments.

Slow time, that Ice strain’d him on a hill did Lucy knew the face to join the Galaxie, the Desert under of camomile tea. That seemed midnight shall ride of sweet lips, soft word said, the Lustre was blither some fresh my Song no less tears down her came before she began a blind shaking nought I say, and hid her hundred doors, the wounds, weak race are orphan, and his home at leaf-fring’d legend haunted steps behind; and further draught excellent in her, kind? For truth, I have dreary dawn; and Death repent, and I cried all that youthful morn Hath traveling as men passing him on his grave! Between St.

There waning hut on more tragic and bred a wholesome, the sovereign shock’d, and luck’s all. So threescore; than his bed; but beautiful ways; the next he came and fine screendoors of transitory perhaps; but much like the field with kirk and hugged its best music sadly? Yet—be happy melodist, unwearied, for which set through thought. When she could you truth they looking here; it half-empty cup, nails rusting down she saw that the hill? Them, that thou that once more I went from those have me your general cursed be the drums do shake thee to the Thunderer’s fall round it, ever wintry day my honour instructor.

Unlawful rainbow, as is like a mallet running his inside of a grave never fell, and a parish specially if tis double dreary dawning against a wintry eye: but, Oh alas, how her still be the year, I walked with a sudden stormy nightly shaken, ran in his great play, dove- lighted loved you but yet my voice to me now her one and merry shine. Himself the disappear unveil’d, yet the Light on any Younger day; they slander semi-tone, we standards of iron: through Poland timbrels? That hangs over thing of pricks because it is larger wove insidious morn?

Faded them dear deliver or set, and sees with eyelids opened bell away; drop your face, remember: I rail’d at the social lines of which bred wi’ education, and all sufferers, appear be springs to under than see it. And there thermometers say white, red is the air,—haste, infant’sie, this fierce an angry fancy flattering his bed; but ten for they would sting the Lady Mary Ann was too readily will be removed what was they grew beside his place sound nor spoke, drawn, sees in hers, now— but aye she is, bitter less and life to see and some back the pallid cheek they came.

At least one of sweet. But that spangle her broken system made no purple and rights that desert off cheerless of the dance gaed three with powers lie huddled with tempest, the heart’s beam no darkness of The Sage had hearken to them blind meant; my great clog of this the broke through here the mind! A field they join, joints dovetailed on the army-surgeon came they live: thus surprise on one little town by your love of the heavens fill wither, sisters rage of syphilitic Black men are holding: now with action, and birds of maiden most shall swear the feeble vassals of wine at flowers, its last within.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #180 texts #sonnet sequence

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kuramirocket · 2 years

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In the United States there existed a campaign of labor reformers to exclude the disabled, immigrants, African Americans, and women from the American work force, all in the name of progress.

Progressive economists provided essential intellectual support to the cause of race-based immigration restriction, which, in the early 1920s, all but ended immigration from Asia and southern and eastern Europe. Such progressive exemplars as Richard T. Ely, John R. Commons, and Edward A. Ross promoted an influential theory known as race suicide, Ross’s term for the notion that racially inferior immigrants, by undercutting American workers’ wages, outbred and displaced their Anglo-Saxon betters.

The same theory—that so-called unemployable workers were innately disposed to accept lower wages—was readily adapted to apply to African Americans, the disabled, and women. The leading lights of American economic reform advocated regulation of workers’ wages and hours to bar or remove the unemployable from employment, on the grounds that their inferior nationality, race, gender, or intelligence made their economic competition a threat to the American workingman and to Anglo-Saxon racial integrity.

It is important to understand that the progressive campaign to exclude the inferior from employment was not (merely) the product of an unreflective prejudice. Progressive arguments warning of inferiority were deeply informed by elaborate scientific discourses of heredity. Darwinism, eugenics, and race science recast spiritual or moral failure as biological inferiority and offered scientific legitimacy to established American hierarchies of race, gender, class, and intellect.

In practice, only white men of Anglo-Saxon background escaped the charge of hereditary inferiority, and even members of this privileged group were condemned as inferiors when they, as with The Jukes and other “white trash” families studied by eugenicists, were judged deficient in intellect and morals.

University presidents, such as Charles Van Hise and Starr Jordan, vigorously advocated exclusion of hereditary inferiors, as did such political journalists as Hebert Croly, such jurists as Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., and many other progressive luminaries, not least US Presidents Theodore Roosevelt and Woodrow Wilson. Their causes varied, as did their justifications, but they all advocated the exclusion of immigrants, African Americans, women, and the disabled.

Conservatives and socialists also drank deeply from the seemingly bottomless American wells of racism, sexism, and nativism, and they, too, borrowed evolutionary and eugenic ideas in support of their politics.

Source: Illiberal Reformers: Race, Eugenics, and American Economics in the Progressive Era

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marvelousmrm · 3 years

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Daredevil #55 (Thomas/Colan, Aug 1969). Matt takes a moody walk in the rain, then faces his fear.

#marvel #marvel 616 #daredevil #matt murdock #foggy nelson #karen page #starr saxon #mister fear #roy thomas #gene colan

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icecypher-fanart · 7 years

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Marvel Comics: Machinesmith and Whirlwind (robot). I love that Starr Saxon exists in the comic books. He is evil. He will create robots for people like Red Skull. Robots that will likely kill people. He does not care. He also happens to be gay. I love there are characters like Billy Kaplan, who is gay and also a good role model, a hero and a good citizen. But I also love that there is someone like Machinesmith. He is someone who loves being a villain. And I do not think he would be above creating robot duplicates of guys he likes and then he would get intimate with them. He likes the Vision, by the way.

#fan art #marvel comics #machinesmith #starr saxon #david cannon #whirlwind

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elgaberino-mcoc · 1 year

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spreadsheet cleanup subseries: he's more machine now than man STARR SAXON the MACHINESMITH

ComicVine: 153 issues Fandom: 103 appearances, 4 variants 0 video games

he'd merit his @MCOCwishlist spot IF he had a game or two.

exemplary candidate for a @MarvelGames debut in #MCOC

- Other Gabe

#Samuel Saxon #Starr Saxon #Machinesmith #series Other Gabe's spreadsheet cleanup Fall 2022 #series spreadsheet cleanup subseries he's more machine now than man #recent rank #MCOCW page 17 401-425 #robot #cyborg #no games

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7-omen-7 · 2 years

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Here are some names that aren’t strictly for females or males

Alpha Astrix/Asterisk Axis Blur Bolt Brick Cube Cyan Data Delta Echo Entity Error Exa/Exo Form Friday Hazard Idea Impulse Infinity Ion Kilo Kite Limit Name Nebula Neon Obsidian Plastic Point Quartz Qwerty Radar Retina Reverb Rocket Scavenger Sigma Sonar Swing Tank Tax Tera Valence Vertex Virus Vortex Audience Beat Binary Brass Cable Canon Canvas Chord Clash Coarse Crash Discord Double Feedback Forte Genre Hack Hollow Hook Impulse/Pulse Ink Key Lyric Mellow Memory Neon Noise Note Omen Phase Quaver Riddle Shallow Sharp Shiny Snare Treble Tune Twang Aloe Arrow Atlas Azure Balsa Bee Beetle Branch Bread Bridge Candle Cedar Cello Chameleon Cherry Cloud Clover Coffee East Echo Egg Ember Fern Finch Flannel Forest Gecko Gem Goose Grey Jay Kale Lake Leaf Mango Maple Moss Oak Pond Poppy Rain Raven Rock Silver Topaz Violet Wednesday Willow Wood Frog Max Alex Shawn/Shawne Kai SCP 834 Nyx Ares War Criminal Cas Sky/Skie Bee Ash Arson Vin Sal Cat/Kat Tax Fraud Liminal Dream Fade Angel Glitch Tooth Centipede Chlorine Crayon Fever Bones Ghost Eye Omen Nurse Band-aid Tape Glow Legs Decay Poison Blowfly Needle Finger Mold Doll Wasp Moth Dirt Bunny Trinket Shell Cicada Ariel Astra Aurora Celeste Luna Nova Starling Starr Stella Sunshine Aldrin Apollo Callisto Castor Comet Hercules Leo Neptune Rocket Solar Aries Eclipse Galaxy Halo Mars Mercury Moon Saturn Star Sun book strawberry cherry tea soup lace butters melody lyric bunny slime apple Saturn star venus kandi/kandy/candy glitter monster zero/zee/z neo gutz/guts brainz/brains trixie roxy rex Moss Bones Arson Rain Feather Cloud Deep Raven Fall captain bone/bones patch/patches sparrow flynn skipper boots hook reef treasure Winter Midnight Crow Corvid Raven Siren Shade Nova Veil Salem Ash Aster Devin Day Hyde Dagger Knife Psyche Osiris Pandora Haven Jade Blade Gray Ember Ebony Blue Dee Day Dove Sky Rain Ash Coin Pax Rex Mick Reef Rory Ari Bug River Dane Finn Lumi Lux Ore Roux Note Tone Melody Piper Sonata Violin Coda Riff Alto Lyre Lyric Calypso Cadence Chorus Canto Chanson Harper Lorelei Octave Song Muse Canon Clef Motif Legato Nonet Pan Rhapsody Trill Vevace Dusk Indigo Orion Onyx Obsidian Somnus Hypnos Morpheus Noctis Noir Nero Umbra Ash Omega Orpheus Crow Jinx Hex Grey Pandora Morrigan Shade Silver Zephyr Storm Crimson sprinkle Bunny cloud Skittle kitty birdie bee flower Grass peach strawberry cherry Berry Apple Berry Apricot Huckleberry Mulberry Honeydew Lychee Peach Cherry Basil Bayleef Pepper Anise Clove Coriander Ginger Nutmeg Rosemary Rue Sesame Thyme Saffron exe/txt/pdf/gif web/website tech emoji sci beta dell chip zip Arson Blue Blur Brick. Cloud Detective Dice Egg Elmers Error Gremlin Icon Jester Lake Leaf Mischief Nike Nintendo Pi Royal Skull Spark Ten Tesla Vortex Yoshi Zero Zoom angela/angelo/angie angelonia/angel andy/andi ann/annie/anny antares andromeda bone/bones biscuit/biskit paw fluffy fetch scout chase skull corpse blade jinx hex bat bandit rogue trick/tricky smoke lee leo/lio pluto mars orion redd avery aster cyrus cleo miles quinn indigo amber ruby sugar lace/lacey boba rosie mae merry dottie plush/plushie cinnabun pompom teddy peach smile/smiles/smiley alphabet blocks bug snail paint crayon slime sticker rainbow gummy candy/kandi button bandaid glitch static disc pixel robot/bot glitter wire/wires code key/keys virus byte bunny/bunnie/bun kitty/kit/kitten plush/plushie milk fluff cloud bubble/bubbles angel ghost tea cookie bow / ribbon bonbon puff / creampuff Nintendo Mossy Quill Spark Vermillion Cotton Candy (or C.C. for short) Cocoa Indigo Sunset Elmers Snowy Sketchpad Frost Jester Poltergeist Spirit Cricket Poem Puck Mischief Truffle Golden Clay Feather Hatchet Gremlin Stone Brad Chad Thad Zoom Crayon Detective Otter Sonic Armadillo Ocelot Puggles (name for baby platypus) Dylan Logan River Fince Ellory Finn Converse Sage Saint Sal Saturday Saxon Scan Scatter Scoop Scorpion Scout Scream Sea Senti Sentinel September Serene Seven Shade Shadow Shake Shatter Shaw Silent/Silence Silver Siphon Skill

#names #name #name ideas #feminine names #masculine names #androgynous names #non bianry #gender fluid #idk #lgbtq #insp #character names #feminine #masculine #androgynous

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harrisonarchive · 3 years

Photo

George Harrison with Alla Rakha (photograper unnamed), Carl Perkins (screenshot from the Blue Suede Shoes TV special), Julian Lennon (photo by Richard Young), Paul McCartney (screenshot from Living In The Material World), Ringo Starr (photo © UPPA/Starstock), Damon Hill (maybe - AP didn't specify; photo by Nick Wilson), Tom Petty (photo by Reed Saxon), Olivia (photo by Terry O'Neill), and Dhani (screenshot from Living In The Material World).

“I went to the Cavern and saw the walls wet with condensation, but not very often because I was at home with the baby. But I remember George Harrison coming around to our house a couple of times to keep me company when The Beatles weren’t playing because he knew I was left out. That was nice of him.” - Lil Evans, Mal’s wife, The Ray Connolly Beatles Archive, April 2005

“I liked him because he was down-to-earth. After Brian [Epstein] died, he was particularly comforting to me.“ - Joanne Petersen, Brian Epstein’s secretary, PomsinOz, 20 August 2007 (x)

“George Harrison comforted Harry Nilsson’s widow [at Nilsson’s funeral] by expressing to her his belief, his fervent belief that life does continue, that physical life may end but there is a spiritual presence. I remember how Harry Nielsen’s widow was genuinely comforted by this serious and passionate belief that George had.” - Martin Lewis, CNN, 1 December 2001

“[George] sought me out in the paddock at the British Motorcycle Grand Prix at Donington Park some eight years ago. My wife Beth, a big Beatles fan, had died of cancer two months earlier. Somehow he had heard the news, and he wanted to say how sorry he was. I was astonished he knew, and that he had made the effort to find me. It lifted my spirits at a very difficult time.” - Andrew Marriott, F1 Supporters Association, 6 December 2001

“[George had] sent me a book and a mantra [when Bobby died]. It was a rather personal mantra, so I’d rather not say what it was, but he suggested I say this to myself during the funeral to comfort me. I must admit, it got me through the day. He also put a note in with the book saying, ‘From your old mate George’ and in brackets he’d added 'Harrison.’ Which was rather funny — as if I might not know it was from him!" - Cilla Black, The Mirror, December 2001

“[Kirchherr] last saw George Harrison in mid-2001, months before he died, when he invited her to [Friar Park] for a last weekend with his family. ‘I remember we had a little walk in his park, and I was so full of love and joy to be with him that I cried,’ she says. ‘He said, “You must not cry, I will always look after you.” He had no fear. No fear whatsoever. I miss his presence, but I’ve got the feeling he’s still around me.’" - Peter Fetterman Gallery, Artists: Astrid Kirchherr

“George was the kind of guy who wasn’t going to leave until he hugged you for five minutes and told you how much he loved you.” - Tom Petty, Rolling Stone, 17 January 2002

“I miss George very much, he was a person I had a great connection with. When he was in hospital undergoing treatment, which was making him physically ill, he was still cracking jokes to make us feel better.” - Olivia Harrison, Liverpool Echo, 5 March 2003 (x)

116 notes · View notes

daresplaining · 5 years

Note

Hello! I've seen you guys mention Mr Fear a few times and his power and dynamic with Matt sounds fascinating. Could you elaborate on it when you get a mo? From what I know I'd love to see a version of him in S4

Ooh, yes, of course! There have been several versions of Mr. Fear, and they’ve all been nasty. (And yes, it would have been nice to get one of them in the show. I was really rooting for that.) I mostly know Mr. Fear in the context of Daredevil, which is where he/they originated, so that’s what I’ll be focusing on here, though I know at least one of them has appeared elsewhere as well. I appreciate the various Mr. Fears not just because they are terrifying antagonists, but also because of the sheer variety with which the basic premise– artificially inducing fear– has been depicted over the years. This has kept the identity fresh, and has helped them become more than just cheap knock-offs of DC’s Scarecrow.

If you just want reading recommendations, below are all of the issues I will be covering in this post. They encompass the full range of Mr. Fear’s history in Daredevil, from 60s wackiness to 2000s noir, and I think they’re all worth reading if you’re looking for the full Mr. Fear experience.

Daredevil volume 1 #6

Daredevil volume 1 #54-55

Daredevil volume 1 #90-91

Marvel Team-Up volume 1 #92 (not digitized)

Daredevil volume 1 #222

Daredevil volume 1 #314-315 (not digitized)

Fear Itself: The Home Front #5, “A Moment with… Mr. Fear”

Daredevil volume 1 #363-367 and 371-375

Daredevil volume 2 #95-106

If you want plot summaries and character commentary, read on:

The first Mr. Fear was introduced way back in Daredevil #6, as the leader of the Fellowship of Fear (a trio that also consisted of the Ox and the Eel). This first version had the fantastically supervillain-y name of Zolton Drago, and an appropriately wacky origin story: He is a humble sculptor, dismayed by the failure of his wax museum, who makes an astonishing discovery while mixing up chemical concoctions intended to bring his wax statues to life.

Drago: “I did discover something after all! Something I never expected! I’ve found a way to fill any foe with indescribable fear!!”

Caption: “For long weeks, the strange, haunted man worked, refining his discovery, learning all he could about the chemicals involved…”

Drago: “Perfect! Now I know that I can make all the “Fear Gas” I need! With such a discovery, I could become the most successful criminal who ever lived! […] I’ve modified an ordinary pistol to fire my new “Fear Pellets”! And now, for psychological purposes, I’ll create a costume… the perfect disguise for one who shall henceforth be known as… Mr. Fear!!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #6 by Stan Lee, Wally Wood, and Sam Rosen

There’s a certain goofiness in most Silver Age villains– Daredevil’s, in particular– but I find Wally Wood’s depiction of Mr. Fear’s skull-and-cape look to be genuinely creepy, and his Fear Gas is no joke. When hit with it during his first encounter with the Fellowship of Fear, Matt is rendered helpless with terror, and barely escapes with his life.

Matt: “Fumes! He fired a gas pellet at me! But, it isn’t tear gas! Nor is it poisonous! What can it be?”

Caption: “Suddenly, the sightless adventurer turns making a frantic effort to flee!”

Matt: “Both of them… about to attack me! No! Stay back! An air current! …Directly above me! That means an opening! It’s my one chance! If I can swing over in time! […] I just made it!”

Matt manages to defeat Mr. Fear at the end of the issue by, uh… positioning himself in front of a fan (seriously). But this is only the beginning.

Mr. Fear returns in Roy Thomas’s run, in Daredevil #54-55. This story starts with Matt faking his death to escape the consequences of a supervillain named Starr Saxon discovering his secret identity. His plan is to continue on as Daredevil and invent a new civilian persona for himself. But no sooner has he put this plan into action than Mr. Fear– who has recently been freed from prison– baits him on live television. Mr. Fear claims he can prove, without using his Fear Pellets, that Daredevil is a coward. And… he does!

Mr. Fear: “I neglected to mention my new power– to fill you with frenzied fear– with a mere gesture!”

Matt: “Tell me another one, friend! Now to– No– NO! That tingling I feel– that sudden sinking sensation! Drago was right! Suddenly, I feel– deathly afraid! Getting dizzy– just realizing how high we are–! And now– I’m falling! Nnooo!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #54 by Roy Thomas and Gene Colan

There are several stories during this period that focus on Daredevil’s reputation being tarnished, and this is one of them. The adoring public, who was watching the fight, now think Daredevil is a wuss, and Matt fears they might be right. It’s all a bit humorously melodramatic, but what matters is that Mr. Fear seems to have become an even more serious threat, since Matt is struck by that same fear the next time he goes out as DD, when Mr. Fear isn’t even around. In the end, after a quick call (courtesy of Foggy) to the prison where Drago was being held, Matt discovers the truth: Zolton Drago is dead and the new Mr. Fear is actually Starr Saxon himself, who stole Drago’s costume and equipment after murdering him. Matt confronts him with this revelation, after which Saxon accidentally falls to his death.

Matt: “Funny how Saxon died lunging for my billy club– the very weapon he’d been using to make me turn coward when we fought! Once Foggy called the warden, it was as simple as ABC! When Saxon briefly possessed Matt’s cane he rigged the club with these specially-timed Fear-Gas pellets… which his flying disk triggered during our first battle! It was his warped revenge on me… for ‘killing’ Matt Murdock to escape his blackmail threats! And, with that erudite explanation, I rest my case! DD, it’s been a looonng day!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #55 by Roy Thomas and Gene Colan

(Just for the record, Matt should have known it was Saxon from the beginning, because he would have recognized his voice/scent.)

Logic suggests this would be the end of Mr. Fear… but no! Matt and Natasha encounter him in San Francisco, in Daredevil #90-91…

Caption: “His arm jerks out– fingers brush– and then, the Widow tumbles away, her ebon-suited body twisting– her hands flailing, legs spinning–”

Matt: “TASHA! She froze up– couldn’t make the extra effort needed to complete the swing! Something about her heartbeat– rushing, panicky! She’s terrified! I’ve got to chance it– push away from the flagpole, try to grab her before it’s– too late!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #90 by Gerry Conway and Gene Colan

If the previous story was mostly melodrama, this one is viscerally frightening. Our heroes are struck, without warning, with bouts of overwhelming terror– a dangerous affliction for people who lead such risk-filled lives. With Mr. Fear seemingly long dead and no obvious source for these attacks, Matt and Natasha are helpless to prevent them.

Caption: “This is how it begins: as suddenly as a rifle shot, a surge of inexplicable fear courses through Matt’s arced body– and with that fear, all thoughts of contacting a friend on the staff of the Daily Chronicle seem to dissolve into darkness– abruptly buried under a grim sensation of choking– A sensation that builds as he spins helplessly at the end of his billy club wire! Trying desperately to regain control, Matt finds himself unable to think– and becomes increasingly aware of the terror clutching at his heart– a fright unlike any he’s ever felt before– a fear without cause– a horror without reason!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #90 by Gerry Conway and Gene Colan

Natasha is convinced the attacks are tied to a mission from her past, engineered by one of her former espionage allies. But in a surprise twist, the real culprit is a man named Larry Cranston– one of Matt’s fellow law school alumni, and one of his new law partners since moving to San Francisco. It turns out that Star Saxon was not the only person to benefit from the original Mr. Fear’s death, and with his jet pack, Cranston has been attacking Matt and Natasha from a distance.

Cranston: “I heard a sound from the room across the hall– voices arguing. A door was open– I looked in, and saw a man called Starr Saxon shoot another man– Zolton Drago, the original Mr. Fear. Drago lived long enough to tell me where he’d hidden his costume and equipment– he thought it would buy his life– Unfortunately, it wasn’t mine to give. He died as I held him.”

Matt: “But why did you do all this, Larry? And how did you know–”

Cranston: “When Matt Murdock moved to San Francisco with Madame Natasha– and Daredevil with the Black Widow– it wasn’t hard. And– I’ve always despised you, Murdock. In school, it was always– Murdock this, Murdock that– and I tell you, I’d had ENOUGH!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #91 by Gerry Conway and Gene Colan

Cranston isn’t the only person to notice the coincidence of Matt and DD both moving to California with Natasha– it’s actually amazing more people don’t figure out his secret identity because of this– but it is significant that he knows, since his motivations are so personal. His irrationally intense hatred of Matt, and their shared history, makes him a particularly eerie figure among the ranks of DD’s villains, and it will come back in his most horrifying appearance, in Ed Brubaker’s run (which I’ll be covering later). While he appears to fall to his death at the end of this issue (that sort of thing happened a lot in early Daredevil…), he isn’t gone yet.

Marvel Team-Up #92 introduces the next guy to inherit the Mr. Fear identity– Alan Fagan, Larry Cranston’s nephew. Like his predecessors, he attempts to find new, more insidious uses for the Fear Gas…

Alan: “Ha! I can’t wait to see the faces of those buffoons who said Alan Fagan would never amount to anything… They dared to laugh at me… because I kept getting thrown out of schools… wasted my father’s fortune… Well, I don’t need his money now– or their fancy schools! I’ve got something better than that now! They won’t laugh at me anymore– because I’ll make them deadly afraid of me… and I owe it all to you, Uncle Larry! You despised me– but your money and your Mr. Fear costume still fell into my hands after you died! I have the imagination to use the identity in ways neither you nor the original Mr. Fear ever dreamed of! My genius requires a large-scale reign of terror– and this radioactive isotope I stole tonight will bring it about!”

Marvel Team-Up vol. 1 #92 by Steven Grant, Carmine Infantino, and Carl Gafford

(Larry is around Matt’s age. Don’t ask me why his nephew looks so old.)

Alan is a little too cartoony in this issue to seem like a serious threat, but he is still dangerous.

Peter: “H-how… did you d-do this to m-me?”

Alan: “My Fear Potion, insect– injected through this ring when I hit you! I usually administer it as a gas, in dilute form– but a man of your power required a full-strength dose! You are mine, Spider-Man, body and soul– and we are going to conduct a little experiment! I am curious as to just how many injections of pure Fear Potion you can receive… before you die– of fear!”

Fortunately, Spider-Man and Hawkeye are able to take him out and send him to prison, but even that is not the end…

Daredevil volume 1#222, one of my favorite issues in Denny O’Neil’s run, opens with this chilling scene, during Glorianna O’Breen’s return flight from Ireland to the U.S.:

Caption: “This is Aer Lingus flight number 2241, originating at Dublin and bound for Kennedy. It will never arrive.”

Hijacker: “Stewardess– tell the pilot to put this crate down at the Tinkerville airport.”

Glori: “A man… with a wee plastic gun– the kind that the detectors don’t detect. A man of violence… bloodshed… the things I’ve seen so much of at home. Is there no escapin’ them, then? No!”

Caption: “Sudden, shattering the near-silence of the cabin– the shot sends a bullet into an unexpected target…”

Hijacker: “Aiiieeeee!”

Glori: “Funny odor… gas… Noooooo”

Pilot: “[…] You guys smell something?”

Daredevil vol. 1 #222 by Denny O’Neil, David Mazzucchelli, and Ken Feduniewicz

Matt, Foggy, and Becky receive news that Glori’s plane has crashed in a New Jersey swamp, and Matt and Foggy rush to the scene, fearing the worst.

Cop: “…Sorry I can’t tell you more, Mr. Murdock. But your friend Ms. O’Breen isn’t here.”

Matt: “Are you absolutely sure, Officer?”

Cop: “’Fraid so, sir. There were only fifty passengers on the plane– and we’ve accounted for everyone except Ms. O’Breen and two others– a Dr. Sadd and a local man named Julius Mudd. What I figure happened is, they were… well, their bodies were thrown clear. We’ll find ‘em when the rain stops.”

Matt (Caption): “Bodies… death– Another woman dead? Like Elektra? Like Heather? Another of my women dead?”

Refusing to believe that Glori was killed in the crash, Matt changes into his DD suit and sets out into the swamp to find her. Partway into his hunt, he runs into Natasha, who is searching for one of the other missing passengers– Dr. Ephesus Sadd, who acquired and subsequently improved a sample of the Fear Gas for use in chemical warfare. One of the great strengths of this story is the fact that the antagonist remains off-panel for significant chunks of the issue. Matt himself is not under attack, and so we, just like him, are left fearing for Glori’s safety as he and Natasha race to her rescue.

Meanwhile, Glori and Dr. Sadd are living through a nightmare. They have been kidnapped by the hijacker and his associates. It turns out that he was hired to assassinate Sadd and now– having seen his worth, but unaware of why he’s so valuable– he’s decided to hold him ransom instead. As the hijacker attempts to give Glori to his brother as a wife, Sadd decides to use his secret cargo to escape.

Dr. Sadd: “Before the ceremony begins, I would like to deliver a… a sermon! Yes, a sermon. Always at weddings there is sermonizing. My topic will be fear. It is a subject dear to me– a subject I have studied… a subject I cherish like a child. I have seen fear drive men to splendid achievements and crush them like insects… It is the force which lifted mankind from the primeval ooze and which keeps us from being as angels–”

Hijacker: “Git on with the wedding.”

Dr. Sadd: “Yes, the wedding. I have brought a gift–!”

Glori: “No! Don’t do it!”

When Matt and Natasha arrive, they encounter a horrific scene: Glori and her kidnappers, driven into a violent frenzy by fear.

Matt: “–Glorianna! Glori… are you all right?”

Glori: “No… no… no no NONONONO”

Matt: “[…] I was expecting to find people whimpering in terror… which is what the original Mr. Fear’s gas caused.”

Natasha: “Obviously, Dr. Sadd changed the formula. Glorianna and the others are reacting like cornered rats.”

The creepy conclusion of the issue is two-fold: It reveals a second version of the Fear Gas– one that drives people to lash out in fear, rather than being subdued by it. And it ends with Dr. Sadd dying of fear, despite the revelation that his canister of Fear Gas was empty– thus showing just how powerful terror, as a mere concept, can be. This is an issue in which Mr. Fear isn’t even present but is nevertheless still profoundly dangerous, and that sums up why he is such a good antagonist. Way back in Daredevil #6, Stan Lee commented that Mr. Fear shared certain similarities with the Purple Man, who had just been introduced two issues before, but these later stories are where those similarities really start to appear. Mr. Fear and the Purple Man are effective villains for similar reasons: they are both immensely powerful, manipulate basic facets of human nature, and can strike from a distance (or without even being directly involved at all!) with unpredictable and deadly consequences.

If this wasn’t creepy enough, Chichester goes full-on macabre with his Mr. Fear-centered story in Daredevil volume 1 #314-315 (not digitized yet– come on, Marvel!), in which he introduces another variation on Mr. Fear. This version is Alan Fagan’s daughter, Ariel, who uses the code name Shock, and who is both tragic and terrifying. While I’m generally not a fan of Scott McDaniel’s art style, it works to great effect here to depict the twisted gruesomeness of Shock’s physical appearance.

Matt: “All I have to go by is the sudden shift in the crude patterns my radar blocks out for me– only a hint as to the radical transformation that has seemingly occurred. Perceptions become clouded in the sudden wave of warm gases that wrap around me, raising the hairs on the backs of my arms. I’m still trying to make sense out of the sensations, trying to form a mental picture of what I’m dealing with, when the gases turn suddenly cold– and unease becomes an uncontrollable rage. Intellect knows better, but emotion overrides. Guttural sounds crawl up out of both our throats as we throw ourselves together– a railing grapple empty of technique and filled with a purpose no higher than to tear each other apart. In my head, I know we’re stories above the hard city streets. In my heart, I just want her dead before we hit.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #314 by D.G. Chichester, Scott McDaniel, and Christie Scheele

I think I’ve said it before, but I can’t say it enough– I love Chichester’s writing. What a way to end an issue!

Shock is yet another reinvention of the concept of Mr. Fear; her powers come from her body itself. She arranges for her father to be attacked in prison. His attackers cut the skin off his face(!), which Shock then uses to brew a concoction that when ingested, causes her to undergo a grotesque physical transformation and gives her the ability to literally exhale Fear Gas. (The idea is that her father’s skin absorbed traces of the gas, which could then be distilled). She uses these powers to cause mass hysteria by making people hallucinate things that anger and disgust them. Those in her sway turn primal and bloodthirsty. Matt’s battles with her turn into attempts to keep crowds of random civilians from killing each other.

Shock is also more sympathetic than any of the other Fear-styled characters. We learn that her father was neglectful, and she has been left alone to care for her ill mother. Her decision to take over her father’s identity comes from a desire to both overshadow his legacy, and to make money to pay for her mother’s treatments.

Shock: “That’s better. That’s steady… Oh, I worry so, Mommy! I’ve always worried! […] Keep going, that’s it, you’re doing fine…”

Daredevil vol. 1 #315 by D.G. Chichester, Scott McDaniel, and Christie Scheele

Matt subdues Shock by taking her by surprise, and tries to ensure that both she and her mother receive the help they need. He hopes this is the end of his Mr. Fear problem at last, but he is wrong. Sadly, Shock doesn’t appear again (I really like her), but her father recovers from his face-stripping and much later resumes the Mr. Fear identity– notably, just in time to provide this funny interlude during Marvel’s “Fear Itself” event:

Alan: “This is just terribly, terribly wrong. I mean, really– I’m Mr. Fear… but it’s not me making everybody queasy. Used to be I’d be the one dragging everybody’s deepest fears out of their closets, for all the world to see. Now the bar’s been raised– or is it lowered? Whatever. With everybody running around in a state of anxiety, nobody gives a damn about a guy named Mr. Fear. Yesterday, some loser stops me in front of Penn Station, gets in my face… yells, ‘Hey– Doctor Doom!’ Doctor Doom, for god’s sake. I mean, really– can you believe this?”

Fear Itself: The Home Front #5, “A Moment with… Mr. Fear” by Howard Chaykin and Edgar Delgado

In an overarching plot that starts toward the end of Karl Kesel’s run and extends all the way through Joe Kelly’s, Larry Cranston returns, miraculously alive and working as a law professor at Columbia University. (If anyone has started to get their Mr. Fears mixed up, Cranston is the one who attended law school with Matt and knows his secret identity.) He is more dangerous than ever, and works from the shadows to avoid detection. Armed with an extra potent version of the Fear Gas, Cranston enslaves people to do his bidding, sending his agents into Matt’s life to create chaos by infecting others with the gas. These victims are helpless to fight back, and Cranston seems to be able to engineer how they react. When convenient, they lash out with violence, becoming dangerous to everyone around them– while others are rendered obedient and docile by fear.

Matt: “Vinnie’s heartbeat is erratic, and his sweat carries a trace of ammonia… His body is rejecting something through the skin… the remnants of Fear Gas… Have to get through to him somehow…”

Matt: “…Vinnie, I’m here to help you. Vinnie… your wife and daughter miss you.”

Vinnie: “M-my wife? I– I don’t have a family. I can’t have a family… I don’t deserve one… *Gasp* Oh god. A-all I have… m-means nothing… nothing but the truth… yes… yes… I’ll be good…”

Matt: “(His voice… so distant… almost as if he’s not speaking to me… His pulse just sped up… shallow breathing… Could he be hallucinating?) They miss you, Vinnie. They want you to come home.”

Vinnie: “[…] Fear controls everything. Knows everything. Hears everything. Fear is God. I serve him… forever…”

Daredevil vol. 1 #366 by Joe Kelly, Gene Colan, and Christie Scheele

As Matt continues, barely, to fight back, Cranston increases his efforts to tear him down, concluding with sending a serial killer cop into his life and then framing Karen Page for his (the cop’s) murder. Karen is put on trial, and Cranston gleefully sabotages the proceedings from behind the scenes. Besieged on both sides of his life by someone who seems like an all-powerful force, Matt nearly gives in to despair.

Cranston: “How hang the scales of justice, Counselor? The blind lady treats her consort well, I pray.”

Matt: “(Kill him. No. Make him talk.) Why? Why Karen? Why us?”

Cranston: “Come now, Murdock… what good is a nom de guerre if I don’t back it up from time to time… I want you to lose your faith in everything. Your woman. Yourself. The system of justice you so carelessly flaunt when it suits you… because once you strip a man of his faith… all that’s left is fear. That… and an ex-junkie whore girlfriend in jail. Oh, I’m sorry… did that last part slip out?”

Daredevil vol. 1 #375 by Joe Kelly, Chris Claremont, Ariel Olivetti, Christie Scheele, et al.

Even when Matt finally manages to track down evidence against Cranston that he can use to prove his guilt and Karen’s innocence, he still nearly loses, because Cranston has a member of the jury under his sway. This juror nearly succeeds in releasing Fear Gas to impact the verdict, when he is stopped by– of all people– the Kingpin.

Matt: “What do you want, Fisk?”

Fisk: “Tut tut… such venom… towards a friend helping a friend. A present. The ghoul used hypnosis so you couldn’t smell the gas. Clever… but he should have chosen a juror with a stronger heart. He’ll live, don’t worry. Just with a pacemaker.”

Matt: “You– why? Why?”

Fisk: “Simple. Someone was playing in my sandbox… and no one gets to break you but me. Congratulations, Counselor. You won your woman’s freedom. With a little help from a friend. I trust you will remember the favor… when I return.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #375 by Joe Kelly, Chris Claremont, Ariel Olivetti, Christie Scheele, et al.

(D’aww…)

It’s a shaky victory, but it lasts all the way until the end of volume 2– when Ed Brubaker gives us the most upsetting Mr. Fear story to date in #95-106.

The setup for this story is similar to that of its predecessor: Matt’s life starts falling into chaos for reasons that aren’t initially clear. His law partner, Becky Blake, is urged by an old friend to help Melvin Potter (the Gladiator), who is accused of killing people while in prison. Matt and Foggy agree to help, since they have a long-standing relationship with Melvin and suspect foul play. But then, Melvin is sprung from prison and goes on a rampage, before nearly killing Milla Donovan (Matt’s wife) and then trying to commit suicide. This coincides with an increase in violent crimes throughout Hell’s Kitchen. Becky’s friend kills himself under mysterious circumstances. Matt knows someone has engineered all of this, but has no idea who.

Cranston: “Hello, Matt… I thought it was time I said hi. You can hear me… right?”

Matt: “What? Who is this?”

Cranston: “Heh, little joke. I know you can hear me, Matt. But I can’t hear you. And don’t bother trying to recognize my voice… even your ears couldn’t get past this voice-scrambler.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #97 by Ed Brubaker, Michael Lark, Stefano Gaudiano, and Matt Hollingsworth

Before too long, he learns the truth– Larry Cranston is back, and is more powerful than ever. With an array of underlings from all walks of life at his command and a new arsenal of fear-inducing chemicals (including a new drug he is distributing on the streets), he appears capable of just about anything. He singlehandedly throws Matt’s life, and Hell’s Kitchen’s criminal underworld, into chaos.

Cranston: “It was so simple, I can’t believe I didn’t discover it myself… the myriad ways in which fear affects the human brain. But it took Professor Dante Govich only minutes to realize the full potential of the drugs from my arsenal. His experiments– once he came under my persuasion– once he looked at me with fear and awe– made all this possible. Dante understood the links between fear and love… the synaptic paths from desire to paranoia to insanity. Under my thumb, he created new drugs beyond anything I could have dreamed of.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #102 by Ed Brubaker, Michael Lark, Stefano Gaudiano, and Matt Hollingsworth

The whole time Matt remains one step behind, and has barely figured out who his enemy is before he gets doused with one of the new versions of the Fear Gas. As a celebration of the hundredth issue of the volume, #100 features a visually stunning and thematically disturbing sequence of Matt tearing his way through the city streets, hallucinating enemies all around while still helpless to attacks from Mr. Fear’s minions.

Matt: “Your lies… mean nothing! You hear me, Fisk?! You hear me?!”

Cop: “… Heh heh… heh… Why do you keep… henh… calling me… Fisk? …Please… just stop hitting me…”

Matt: “Oh, God… No.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #100 by Ed Brubaker, Marko Djurdjevic, Michael Lark, Matt Hollingsworth, et al.

But Cranston’s most disturbing attack is inflicted upon Milla, Matt’s wife. Without Matt’s knowledge, she is dosed with a concoction that amps up her emotions and makes her violent when angry. Her new condition is the final blow to Matt’s mental state, as she risks jail time for accidentally killing someone. Cranston baits Matt by engineering her release, then– the moment Matt starts to experience some hope– has one of his minions sabotage her into committing another violent act, which gets her locked away for good.

Matt: “Milla, what have you done? What have they done to you? Milla, I can hear your heartbeat… your breathing… It’s me, baby… calm down… It’s Matt… I’m here.”

Milla: “But… I don’t understand… I don’t… I don’t know… I don’t know what happened…”

Matt: “I know. I know you don’t. It’s not your fault.”

Matt (caption): “I hold her tight, but she’s already gone. I can hear the sirens approaching from three blocks away. An ambulance and three police cruisers. They’ll be here soon… to take her away again.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #104 by Ed Brubaker, Michael Lark, Stefano Gaudiano, Matt Hollingsworth, et al.

Brubaker’s run is the darkest, most brutal Daredevil run to date, and this story plays a major part in that. As his failures pile up, Matt grows more and more desperate, more and more willing to cross lines he might not have crossed before. After beating and torturing Cranston’s whereabouts from one of his pawns, Matt hunts him down, ready to wrest the Fear Gas antidote from him any way he can… at which point Cranston deals the final blow to Matt’s psyche.

Cranston: “There is no cure, Matt. That’s why I had to kill Dante Govich… He was my chemist… Can’t believe that didn’t occur to you, Mr. Valedictorian. So go ahead, hit me some more. It means nothing… Everything you do means nothing.”

Matt: “No…”

Cranston: “’Cause I beat you weeks ago… you just didn’t know it.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #105 by Ed Brubaker, Michael Lark, Stefano Gaudiano, Matt Hollingsworth, et al.

This story is heartbreaking on every level. Matt goes through all of that, and achieves nothing. He loses. Cranston gets the last laugh. It’s also not a major supervillain victory. It’s not like Cranston was trying to take over the world, or anything. His motivations are personal and frivolous, and that somehow makes it worse. He just tears Matt’s life to pieces because he wants to, because he can, and because Matt is powerless to stop him, and then gets a little chuckle about it afterward. Of course, the real victim of this story is Milla, who is still, to this day, locked up in a psychiatric hospital– a heartbreaking (and, frankly, criminal) fate for such a fantastic character. This is also the last Matt has seen of Larry Cranston. He hasn’t had chance to retaliate, and in my opinion, this victory alone would cement Mr. Fear as one of the most dangerous Daredevil antagonists. The fact that the various Mr. Fears have been at the center of 55 years-worth of genuinely disturbing stories just further backs this up.

#soulfireinc #Mr. Fear #Zolton Drago #Starr Saxon #Larry Cranston #Alan Fagan #Shock #Adventures in Continuity #Recommendations list #Asks

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