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ryanhlubbfinal · 3 years

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Final Reflection - Commonplace Book

Ryan Hlubb

For my final reflection, I had to think about what has stuck with me the most in this class. I think that overall, the themes we’ve discussed and we've heard so many stories of women all over the world and the hardship and struggle they go through on a daily basis. I wanted to be able to do them justice, one thing that has especially stuck with me has been the impact of social media and the danger of a single story. I grouped these two together because I felt like they could go hand and hand with each other. I know from my perspective everyone faces the danger of a single story in some capacity. Some might face it when they are children and they get told on a sibling or friend, unable to defend themselves, a parent might only hear one side of the story. I know that this may seem like completely off topic from women and their struggles and dangers of a single story, but this relates it to most people, and with that, we all have a common understanding of the danger of a single story. By this “shared” experience we are able to put ourselves in these women's shoes that we read and listened to.

The first thing that comes to mind when talking about the danger of a single story is the TED Talk with Chimamanda Adichie. When listening to her speak right off the bat, you can tell she has power, authority, and a story in the way she speaks. This couldn’t be closer to the truth, initially, I liked the idea of being able to annotate a TED talk and be able to discuss certain topics with other classmates. This was great, but it was interesting to see how people had perspectives differing from my own. Adichie talks about how growing up she was writing on her own, but they were all very similar to the books she had read. The characters were “White and blue-eyed, they played in snow, they ate apples, and they talked a lot about the weather, how lovely it was that the sun had come out.” When she first said this is was honestly a wake-up call for me, it left me with thoughts that I didn’t think about ever in my life. For me all of these books were normal, I had grown up with them, but they are all the same. The books of my childhood had lacked diversity. They were all white characters and doing the same things over and over. For Adichie, she had a very different life living in Nigeria, she said “We didn’t have snow, we ate mangoes, and we never talked about the weather, because there was no need to.” For me this struck me, I understand that there are bigger things in the world and this is as some people would call it, a “smaller” issue, but for me it really had my mind running; does this happen everywhere? Was it only because she grew up on a college campus? Did she even have and other books besides typical British and American books? These were just some quick thoughts that I had while I was going through the TED talk and wanted to bring up in the discussions. This can be related to a single story because for Adichie because she had only been exposed to one side of the single-story when talking about children’s books and how they act. Later on in her life, she experienced the danger of a single story again with her college roommate. She went to university in the US at 19, and she had an American roommate. Adichie found herself shocked by her roommate’s perspective of her and how her roommate had fallen into the danger of a single story. In her TED talk she discussed her roommate, “My American roommate was shocked by me. She asked where I had learned to speak English so well and was confused when I said that Nigeria happened to have English as its official language. She asked if she could listen to what she called my “tribal music,” and was consequently very disappointed when I produced my tape of Mariah Carey.” Whenever I read this it leaves me in shock. I never know what to say about how her roommate acted. Her actions personally would’ve been different from mine but the ideas are still similar. I know that Nigeria is not people all dancing to tribal music, but they are as much of an educated and advanced people as we are. There is nothing they can do that we can do. It was fairly surprising to me that so much of our culture has been influenced in Nigeria and how the US has a one-way policy when it comes to entertainment. By that I mean things like Music, TV shows, and movies tend to get shown to other places around the world and influence other cultures, but there’s really no music, TV shows, or movies that we get to see or hear that’s from South Africa, Nigeria, India, China, etc. It seems like our culture and influence only goes one way. I feel like in that sense it places all of us on one side of a single story, and in that the entire US is similar to living on one side of the story from the rest of the world. Whereas other countries might be more fluid and influenced by each other in a mutual relationship, rather than us almost having a parasitic type of relationship. I think that this danger of a single story has so many impacts on our lives daily, but also can have an impact on so many other people. I’m lucky enough to have some friends that live in Europe (UK and Italy). They have always had a certain perspective of Americans as loud, obnoxious, and fat. This may be true for some people, but when they meet someone that juxtaposes that notion, they too can realize that they are living on one side of a single story. The effects of the single-story have happened to people all over the world and will continue to do so, but I do that that in some capacity we could bring an overall awareness to what it is and educate people on what they are thinking about.

In my perspective, I think that the dangers of a single story can be tied together with the impact of social media and the biases that this creates. Throughout the semester I think a lot of topics we’ve discussed and learned about have been related or could be related to the dangers that social media has on us as my specific generation and on us as a whole country. I know it’s a very touchy subject these days but all the things going around the media about COVID, and how it is making a comeback with the delta variant or its not. Hearing “both” sides to an argument (in reality just hearing how two opposing sides spin a single story) but I digress. Things like this have changed the course of media and how we receive information. It’s a great way to show how one sides peoples thought processes are and how we all get the same thread of information, just spun a few different ways. This isn’t so much a new thing, but it’s been happening for years, the whole way down to Watergate, the founding fathers, or the founding of some religions. There is no guarantee that we can hear a truly unbiased both sides to a story. For me, does this mean that we will forever be living in a single story? Or can we break what seems like a never-ending cycle?

As I start to wrap up my reflection, I’m left with something in my head and a quote that I really love. It’s by Sisonke Msimang, she said that “If a story moves you, act on it”. This quote, those 8 words, have had such an impact on me for this semester. When reading about all these different struggles and hardships these women have faced all over the world, and the oppression that had been forced on them, whether it be political, religious, or social oppression they all have a story to them. Looking at all the different things we’ve learned, it’s made me want to find ways to act on it. These stories have been so moving to hear about and so life-changing that I will never be able to look through my old lens again. These stories have played an instrumental role in me and will continue to do so for the rest of my education and life. The dangers of a single story and how this has been pushed through the media are something deep-rooted within each other and deep within our culture, therefore we must find the cause and change in order to eliminate and acknowledge the dangers of a single story.

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doomedandstoned · 3 years

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A Talk With BREATH, Portland’s New Meditative Doom Metal Duo

~By Billy Goate~

Illustrations by Tyler Wintermute

We're used to doom metal being, well, rather dark and sinister, but can it be meditative too? OM, the famous Al Cisneros side project, proved that yes, it can. Other acts, such as the celebrated UK band Bong, the New Brunswick trio Zaum followed (with Italy's Ufomammut, Finland's Dark Buddha Rising, and Ukraine's Bomg being just a step away with their generous, if often louder, landscapes).

Then I encountered doom metal yoga in Portland, and all bets were off.

Last month, Doomed & Stoned introduced you to another band you can add to your short list, whether listening in your Savasana stance ("corpse pose"), getting your groove on at work, or doing a little wake 'n bake to start the day.

This is BREATH from the City of Roses and on February 5th, all mysteries will be revealed as the meditative doom duo brings us their debut LP, 'Primeval Transmissions' (2021) on Desert Records.

Their music "is informed by adventures leaving the comforts of what was known behind. Going into unknown woods sometimes figuratively and some literal. With heavy melodically driven grooves their Meditation Doom will take you to secluded caves, and totemic vision quests'' (band bio).

Over the weekend, I traded words with Steven O'Kelly (bass guitar, vox) and Ian Caton (drums, percussion) recently to get to know this new name in the Pacific Northwest heavy underground. Doomed & Stoned also takes this opportunity to share a new visualizer with you for Breath's latest single, "Observer."

Breath - Observer

What themes and concepts does Breath explore musically and lyrically?

Peering into rituals meant to transcend the physical world. Initiations into the varied mystery schools like Orphism or Druidry I find very powerful. The Shamanistic role being so selfless putting themselves through extreme trials, shedding their previous self to protect their people by communication with spirit.

These things have lots of weight with sacrifice, and knowledge seeking from traditions nearly lost to time. Our sound aims to reflect that weight through the way we use the bass guitar and drums. I think a theme of meditation informs a lot of the riffs with spaciousness and transformation.

Who are your musical influences?

Foundationally, Black Sabbath is a center pillar. My first record being a Sabbath compilation by Earmark. I appreciate the balance they find between settled songs like "Orchid" leading into its counterpart "Lord of this World." Grails’ Burning Off Impurities is such a vehicle that I would get lost in through the whole record. Melting boundaries of East and West with Zak Riles’ classical guitar and the crushing drum work by Emil Amos.

That brings me to Om, which is an important band to me that struck a chord all the way through from the music to aesthetic. Every show I’ve been to is like I’ve snuck into a temple ceremony, and leave feeling light on my feet and blissfully ringing eardrums. "On the Mountain at Dawn" is the heaviest song to me, with this immediacy and undeniable flow like the strong current of a river.

Photographs by Marissa Caldarelli

What sort of gear do you guys perform and record with?

Ian: DW Performance series Drum kit with Maple shells. Remo heads and Aquarian Kick Drum head. Zildjian K cymbals.

Steven: 4003 Rickenbacker bass guitar. Electric Amp Innovations Power Unit 180. Ampeg 8x10 speaker cabinet. Geezer Butler Cry Baby bass wah. MXR bass compressor. Ernie Ball VP Jr. Electro Harmonix Freeze. Deluxe Bass Big Muff. Also, Shure SM 58 and VE-20 Boss Vocal Performer.

You've mentioned gaining inspiration from solitary walks in the woods. What does the Oregon outdoors mean to you and how does it stir your creative processes?

When I first tried meditation, I was given this palm sized booklet by Buddhadasa Bhikkhu on breathwork as the entrance to a practice. Feeling and visualizing blue water filling and then leaving the well of your lungs. The band like our actual breath is a lifeblood for me. Making music and lyrics I can easily and gladly lose myself in. That practice I believe is responsible for shaping our sound.

Sometimes I feel a sort of unspoken conversation with the trees that surround, lots of times getting most lyrical ideas during these hikes. Boundaries are fluid in this space, and by its very nature puts my mind out of whatever box it might’ve been in before. Wilderness here has lots of personalities through wind, rain, and sun. For me, watching trees come alive moving in the wind or the quiet calm after a rain breeds deep reflection. Nature is a mirror.

What's the biggest epiphany or the strangest thing that you've experienced while being surrounded by Mother Nature?

On a summer day at Mt. Tabor in East Portland sitting in a secluded grassy opening circled by trees, I had the most psychedelic out of body experience without the aid of eating anything. High through trance, I came to the plants and tree’s awareness of me and I them. Like they knew my name.

Many of your tracks tell a story. Are these original tales or based upon the band's own mythos?

Whether I identify with an archetype or am retelling an experience I had, All the lyrics have roots in my real life even if themes might be far flung from our time.

Primeval Transmissions by Breath

Give us a walk through your new record, track by track, if you will.

Track 1 Starting with "Evocation," it’s a mixture of Shamanistic ritual and the effects meditation can have in clearing hurdles of adversity. I had been reading a book on Druid Lore and their equivalents around the world. Then I discovered Werner Herzog’s Cave of Forgotten Dreams and was completely spellbound. Seeing cave paintings perfectly intact, it’s entrance hidden by a rock slide before Roman times in France. This painted a visual counterpart to my reading and was consumed with the world it represented. Hallucinogenic trance, their soul migrating to the spirit world through the rising smoke of the fire lighting cave art meant to dance with flickering flame. Taking on an animal guide and returning anew.

Track 2 "Dwarka" at its roots is a story about confrontation with otherworldly phenomena. There’s two personalities to it. At first the ominous impending arrival and, the character coming to grips with what he’s witnessed. The nature of the main riff reflects the enormity of space, and what might be out there. I feel like the energy of the song mirrors how the witness felt, getting heavier as the night becomes more harrowing.

Track 3 "Observer" bridges my love of Eastern music like Ravi Shankar and Baris Manco with metal accents. It’s the journey your mind can take through meditation, simply focusing on your breath and how it can lead to intensity. Mainly one riff building and transforming over the course of Observer. The lyrics are a recording of Sri Swami Satchidananda leading Hatha Yoga, an important teacher for me.

Track 4 "Battle for Harmonic Balance" is centered around the ancient mystery schools of the left and right Eye of Horus. Invoking themes of renewal like the Akhet, a Sun rising between two mountains. Heaviness from the beginning reflecting the weight of importance Egypt holds to me, being a cornerstone of our past. The riff deconstructs towards the end, aligning the song like the Sphinx during the Equinox. Facing East to summon the Sun once more. "Halls of Amenti" is the realm of the Gods, where the Sun goes at night. An ethereal ceremony exchanging distortion and drums for the hypnotic beat of a Shaker and deep Bass guitar.

Track 5 The reprise to "Evocation" is a continuation of the Shaman’s trek across the razor’s edge. With this offering without lyrics we convey the obstacles, lulls, and successful return starting with the similar ritual beginning as its first chapter. This is followed by a call and response conversation between drums and bass guitar. Floating in the ether until finding his way alongside the totemic animal guide culminating at the end, returning to body like the tide returns out to Sea.

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#D&S Interviews #Breath #Portland #Oregon #doom #meditative #metal #doom metal #meditative doom #interview #Desert Records #Doomed and Stoned

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eyreguide · 4 years

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5 Things I Learned About Jane Eyre

A few years ago I was interviewed by a UK based educational company in preparation for their release of content about the Brontës aimed for teachers and students. Sadly the company, Train of Thought Productions, seems to be no more, but at the time they sent me a complimentary copy of the DVD titled “Brontës in Context”. Unfortunately I believe it is hard to find now, but I found it a very interesting examination of the Brontës’ lives and work.

The Jane Eyre section of the DVD was especially illuminating. I’ve never studied Jane Eyre in school, and although I've read critical texts about the story, there are schools of thoughts that I haven’t really explored. Jane Eyre is such an intertextually rich story, that I should have anticipated that this DVD would be eye-opening in unexpected ways. So this post is about the things I learned from the "Brontës in Context" DVD.

1st Person Narration

Okay, I do know that Jane Eyre is written in the first person. And I know that because the novel has a first person POV, the reader is drawn more into Jane's story, her spirit and her fiery nature. But one comment from a professor on the DVD really struck me - the idea that Jane addresses the reader personally (by saying "reader") more and more as the story progresses. "Reader, I married him." being the famous example. I was curious though to see if that was really true, so I went to the Gutenberg online copy and did a search - in the scroll bar, there are little yellow ticks that show where the word comes up in the text, so I took a screenshot of that bar to illustrate (I made the scroll bar horizontal).

From left to right: The beginning of Jane Eyre to the end

Again the yellow marks are every time Jane says "reader" (which is not absolutely accurate since there are like three times it's in the novel, and it's not addressing the reader of the book) But it's true that Jane does directly reach out to the reader more as the novel progresses. The professor on the DVD explains it as Jane wanting to take control of her story, and one way she does this is by correcting the reader's thoughts - by giving them the truth directly. I thought that was a fascinating and accurate explanation of the purpose of Jane addressing the reader.

Bluebeard

To me, Jane Eyre is most succinctly compared to two fairy tales - Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast. I am aware of a Bluebeard connection, but I feel like the aforementioned tales encompasses the story more. But after watching this DVD I am leaning more towards seeing Jane Eyre in a "Bluebeard" light. Especially as Jane Eyre is a Gothic novel, and Bluebeard fits that genre the best of these three tales. There's a "secret at its heart" (quote from the DVD) which is a thoughtful encapsulation of both stories. And there was a comment made by one of the professors that placed the reader of the novel as the curious Bluebeard wife, reading the novel to discover the secret. Such an interesting idea! (And does that mean that Mr. Rochester is my husband??)

St. John and Helen

The role of religion is touched on in the DVD, and there was a thought that the character of St. John Rivers (who is not a bad person, but is kind of unforgivably self-righteous - oh, just me?) hearkens back to Jane's friend Helen Burns. Helen is such a positive character and St. John considerably less so, that I initally felt it's almost a slur on Helen to link the two. But in the context of what the professor on the DVD said it makes sense - they are similar in that they 'quash physical desires'. And in that way I can understand why Jane would be drawn to them - they both encourage Jane to embrace a devotion to God and reason, at a time when her passionate nature is giving her the most pain. Unfortunately for St. John, his function later in the novel means he also has to show Jane that living such a cold, dispassionate life is not for her. And hey, both Helen and St. John meet untimely ends. Which to my mind is Charlotte making a harsh judgement on the idea of living just for God.

Jane and Injustice

Here's something that is hugely appealing to me about this novel. The novel can be pointed to as a feminist work, and Jane is speaking out for women everywhere, but what I love about Jane is that it's not her treatment as a woman that makes her upset. She's really angry at injustice. And the whole misogyny thing is just a part of that. It really took this DVD to drive that home to me. Jane is so passionate about what she feels is not right - the inability of Mrs. Reed to love her, the treatment of the girls at Lowood, the way Mr. Rochester speaks of Bertha, St. John Rivers not wanting to marry Rosamund Oliver. It's a glorious aspect to her character and reminds me of a line from an old sixties adaptation of the novel - Mr. Rochester calls Jane "the small crusader, pitiless with righteousness and rectitude." Rochester was a little harsh with that line, but I do like the 'small crusader' imagery. (In the 1961 adaptation he's more perturbed than happy that Jane's come back to him after he's been blinded and can not be the kind of man he wants to be for her.)

Postcolonialism

The DVD touches on three critical schools of thought in connection to Jane Eyre - Feminism, Marxism and Postcolonialism. And I learned two things in relation to the last one - what Postcolonialism is exactly, and that I really don't like seeing Jane Eyre in that context. In a nutshell, Postcolonialism is looking at the imperialist, British attitude as represented by Mr. Rochester as rich white guy, and Bertha as poor Creole woman. And Bertha's relation to Jane as a dark mirror. There's even a book written with those themes called Wide Sargasso Sea which is a prequel to Jane Eyre. It's from Bertha's viewpoint. I didn't care for the book actually. The thing with me is, I am sympathetic to Mr. Rochester. And I don't really see how you can accept the view that Mr. Rochester is a lying, manipulative scoundrel with no redeeming qualities and still like the novel or Jane. Because Jane - the character to whom the reader is intimately involved and invested in - chooses Mr. Rochester in the end, as the person who makes her the happiest. And if you love Jane because she is an intelligent, moral, capable heroine, as we have gotten to know her and rely on her throughout this story - it's silly to think she is so mistaken as to have made a horrible choice in the end. Also she is telling her story with 10 years distance, and not repenting her decision. She is happy, so what more could anyone ask for?

But back to Postcolonialism and why it does not gel with me; because I also feel like making a story called JANE EYRE, with the first person narration by said JANE EYRE, and then evaluating the story through NOT the main character is kind of ridiculous. Jane Eyre is such a personal journey, that I feel it's a big leap to talk about the novel like Charlotte Brontë was seriously examining slavery/race and British imperialism. If one chooses to see Bertha as completely innocent and horrendously mistreated, at least let it be because Mr. Rochester has misjudged her and acted unsympathetically, before saying it's obviously a master/slave dynamic. And I will just insert this excerpt of a letter that Charlottë Bronte wrote in response to some comments on Bertha:

Miss Kavanagh's view of the Maniac coincides with Leigh Hunt's. I agree with them that the character is shocking, but I know that it is but too natural. There is a phase of insanity which may be called moral madness, in which all that is good or even human seems to disappear from the mind and a fiend-nature replaces it. The sole aim and desire of the being thus possessed is to exasperate, to molest, to destroy, and preternatural ingenuity and energy are often exercised to that dreadful end. The aspect in such cases, assimilates with the disposition; all seems demonized. It is true that profound pity ought to be the only sentiment elicited by the view of such degradation, and equally true is it that I have not sufficiently dwelt on that feeling; I have erred in making horror too predominant. Mrs. Rochester indeed lived a sinful life before she was insane, but sin is itself a species of insanity: the truly good behold and compassionate it as such.

- Charlottë Bronte to W.S. Williams, written 4 January 1848

For me, the interesting points in the letter being Charlotte was (later?) more sympathetic to Bertha's plight, but not condemnatory of Mr. Rochester - she mentions that Bertha has led a sinful life before she was insane and that because of the nature of Bertha's insanity (as Charlotte wrote and understood it), it was probably too easy to 'demonize' her from the character's POV, which shouldn't happen to someone who is truly compassionate. Obviously Mr. Rochester doesn't get points in the philanthropy department which is noted by Jane early on. I understand and completely believe that Bertha's situation is awful and sad in so many ways, but I don't feel that it is important enough to the novel to base interpretations of the story on. Yet can I point out that Mr. Rochester didn't lock up Bertha for funnsies - it would have been so much easier for him if she were not mad because then he could divorce her. (The law at the time being that you could not divorce your wife if she was diagnosed insane.) If he could have let her go to have a normal life and not been responsible if she attacked people, he probably would have been all over that.

To wrap up, I am saddned that this DVD is not widely available any more (at least my google searches have not been fruitful) because it was a very well concieved educational program. This DVD was sent to me in 2015, and I’m revisiting it, by posting this on my blog. I orginally posted this on a former blog. And I believe this post once featured on the Train of Thought Productions website, but sadly that site is no more.

#Jane Eyre #Charlotte Bronte #Literary Analysis #Victorian Literature

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clinioelerrante · 4 years

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To be fainthearted…

That a student of Hogwarts was prowling the corridors of the castle in the wee hours of the morning was not uncommon.

The fact that this student belonged to Gryffindor House was even less so.

That such a student had hair that was red as hellfire could almost be considered normal.

The fact that this particular student was mumbling curses and oaths about a certain frizzy-haired which, it had been part of the regular school scene for more than 4 years.

But for such a student, at the height of Dolores Umbridge's reign of terror, to wander aimlessly, alone, under a disillusioning spell, with the marauder's map in hand and risking exemplary punishment or even expulsion from school, was decidedly atypical.

“A fucking wart? Mmm-hmm. A fucking wart and a fucking teaspoon?...” He mumbled as he took long strides through the corridors, almost oblivious to everything else. “My arse!”

Everything had started after the DA meeting. Cho Chang had accosted Harry in room of requirement while the rest of the group had dispersed. Hermione and he had gone to Gryffindor common room at and were having a relaxed conversation until she insisted that he complete his task while she wrote a letter. Hermione's parchment was already over the edge of the table and hanging dangerously close to the floor, when Harry came through the hole behind the portrait.

It had been perfectly obvious that something had happened. While one could not say that Harry had arrived with a completely dumb face, it was no less true that he was the closest thing to the face of someone who had been struck by a stunning spell.

With Harry’s apparent inability to explain what had happened, Hermione had taken the initiative in the conversation until he blew up the cauldron:

“Have you kissed?”

Wait... What? Harry would have kissed Cho or maybe it was Cho who kissed Harry? After the initial surprise, he was enthusiastic about his friend and wished he did it.

Of course! He'd been aware of Hurry’s crush on Cho since last year. One would have to be blind not to see him with that deer's eyes accompanied by a slight drooling every time Cho entered the scene! But following the usual pattern of shitty luck in Harry Potter's life that was the time when the bird was dating Cedric Diggory.

The memory of the partner killed by Peter Pettigrew overshadowed Ron's memories. Cedric was a good guy and his end had been unexpected, unjust and one more to add to the long list of Wormtail's coward crimes. Top of them, the betrayal of Harry's parents: Lily and James Potter.

“You filthy rat!" he swore. “If I had known, I personally would have left you alone with Crookshanks in a nice little room without a single hole in its walls and an undisturbed spell on the door.

The point was that Harry was still attached to Cho, if not more so, and it seemed that she had begun to notice Harry. There was no doubt that he had turned out to be a brilliant teacher in the DA meetings, added to his perpetual challenge to the pink toad and the legendary fight at the quidditch pitch had contributed enormously, to increase his sex appeal according to some whispered comments that he had heard between the women of the DA and some boys.

Ron wished with all his heart that, “For once!”, Harry's bad luck changed and like any normal teenager, he could live a normal life enjoying the intimate affection of a hot girl who she like him, although in his opinion ...a Tornado fan was not good enough for Harry. . . One flash of a long red hair burst into his mind making him shake his head to free himself from such disturbing vision.

But as usual, Harry hadn't had any luck with it either.

Instead of the first-time nervous or inexperienced teenager's kiss, it had resulted in little more than a disaster that had trapped Harry in the pit of insecurity in his ability to kiss properly a girl and later, with Hermione's invaluable assistance and her detailed talk about Cho Chang's state of emotional turmoil, he guessed in Harry, the doubt about the appropriateness of attempting any kind of relationship with such an emotionally damaged girl and, knowing Harry's legendary hero complex, he would be able to give up the girl if he thought it was sparing him any further pain. A massive Dragon’s dung in Ron's opinion, so he had used his best weapon to pull Harry out of his stupefaction and keep him from falling into his usual melancholy self-isolation; a joke:

“No one can feel so many things at once. It would explode!”

Ron doubted that anyone could explode because of it. If himself hadn't exploded with everything that's happened in the last year, it would be strange if someone else did. “Okay. Maybe Neville would go into a coma or pass out, but I don't think so. Dealing with Mrs. Longbottom for so many years had given him much more courage than many would give him credit for.”

In any case, Hermione's words had unleashed an emotional storm inside Ron, and the problem was that he saw no way to refute the logical sequence of events that had been linked together and seemed to form the links of a chain that wrapped around his neck.

Harry was diligent, brilliant, and handsome, he was not. Harry would have deserved to be prefect of Gryffindor, he didn't. Harry was extraordinary in Quidditch, he wasn't. . . “But Victor fucking pumpkin head Krum is too. So rich. Could be richer as Harry even and. . . . and I'm sure he's experienced enough to know how to kiss a woman properly and. . . Oh God! How does Hermione know Harry is a good kisser and who has she been able to compare him to. . . ?”

He couldn't help it. His mind was filled with the slow motion image of Hermione kissing Krum torridly, trapping his ridiculously short hair between her thin fingers and taking his lips as if from them she extracted the air she needed to breathe, while one of his hands remained on her delicate waist and the other slowly ascended from her hip to caress her entire chest, provoking a lustful moan in her.

Ron felt the periphery of his vision turn red and his fists instinctively clenched so tightly that he felt his own nails sink into his flesh. He felt the need to rip the bastard's head off and when he looked up to face him, his mind was filled with Harry's gaze as he kissed Hermione passionately.

A familiar black claw wrapped around Ron's heart and squeezed it empty until it was breathless. He had never felt such pain or such overwhelming despair. Without being able to avoid it, from the depths of his being, a cry of impotence burst out, which ascended through his throat and escaped from him like the roar of the mortally wounded lion that intends to take his killer away with his last breath. . .

“Who's there? Don't try to escape. Inquisitorial Squad, with me!”

Ron cursed himself. He was so overwhelmed by the pain his own mind had generated that he had forgotten about bloody Umbridge and its band of mangy snakes patrolling the school corridors. Without thinking too much, he rushed to the double-leafed doors in front of him and entered.

“Professor Umbridge. Here!”

Blood seemed to be boiling in Ronald Weasley's veins. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. It was like the Malfoy and Weasley families had some sort of bond in destiny that would inevitably lead them to confront each other. The bloody bouncing ferret was on the other side of the door blocking the exit and calling for the great inquisitor to fall on him. Ron could hardly have imagined the satisfaction it would cause the flathead to discover that the student who violated the curfew was a Weasley and, among them, Harry Potter's best friend, no less! Nothing would make him happier than to witness another humiliation by Ronald Weasley. He was in these thoughts when another, much more disturbing, one made its way into his mind.

Umbridge! This would be like an early Christmas present for her. She would take advantage of the fact that it was him to provoke Harry and that would give her the perfect excuse to expel him.

Shit! You bloody fool couldn't have held back yourself, he thought to himself. No wonder Hermione can't see you as anything but a good-for-nothing. . . Hermione! Oh my God! If neither Harry or I are here, the ferret and the fucking toad are going to torment her to death. They're going to beat her and provoke her mercilessly until she quits or explodes and they can finally expel her. This would kill her. Shit, shit, shit, I'm the biggest asshole on the face of the earth. . .

“Grand Inquisitor Dolores Umbridge here". The voice of the disgusting toad was heard on the other side of the door. “I order you to leave that room.”

Ron, not breathing, stood three feet from the door waiting for the fatal decay.

“There's nothing to be afraid of"; he said with false sweetness. “All of us here are friends and we care about the safety of the students at the school. The Ministry only wants the best for all the magical children in the UK...” Ron thought that sounded suspiciously similar to a certain muggle story Hermione had once told him about a witch, one stupid girl and a poisoned apple...

“I'm absolutely sure is not your fault"; and this time there seemed to be some poison in her voice. “No doubt you'd be following the horrible example of Mr. Potter and his friends about how much fun it is to walk around the castle at this hour, but they don't have the good breeding of those born into completely magical families". She said scornfully, “And they can't understand how dangerous it can be to prowl around the castle at these hours, without the supervision of someone fully versed in the ins and outs of true magic society”. Ron swore he heard a chuckle from the silver ferret. “I'm begging you to come out. I promise that you will only receive one warning and we will accompany you to your common room so that you can rest until tomorrow's class”.

That's not what you've been saying publicly so far, you bloody cow. Always promising magic world perfectly safe thanks to the ministry and your “beloved” Fudge, old hag, he thought, trembling with anger. SHE knows more about the magic world, its traditions and its miseries than you will ever know in your entire fucking life. In an ideal world, you wouldn't even be worthy of breathing the same air that she breathes. Instinctively, his magic channelled all his anger into his own hand that seemed to sizzle, longing to meet the wand that waited expectantly in his back pocket.

“Very well”, this time Umbridge's voice was definitely loaded with contempt. “I understand that if you are unable to understand the delicate complexities of the magical world and my desire to ensure your safety is because you have not had the proper education in your born-home. Nothing that a proper punishment can't solve, so, you´ll understand your place”.

This did it. Ron took three steps behind leaving its good fifteen feet with the door.

This sadist thinks it's not pureblood who is here and she's going to take advantage of it to make an example of it. His hand finally met his wand that seemed to emit a buzz of satisfaction to his contact. She will be stunned when she sees that the marauder is one of the “twenty-eight sacred". He thought this one with really loathe, like if bitter gall touched his lips at the memory. If I were anyone else I might be able to escape from this by sounding sorry, but being who I am, she's going to take advantage of it to go against both of them and if she doesn't go against Hermione, Draco will. For a moment a smile escaped his lips as he thought of what Hermione would do to Draco if he openly fought against her while remembering the superb punch the ferret had received in third year. But Malfoy will never attack her openly. He would seek a moment of solitude and would be accompanied by his two gorillas and possibly some Slytherin Deatheater apprentice and, God knows! What they would be capable of doing to her.

As his last smile died on his face, his wand was raised in his arm in a duelling position. Ron knew his fate was already decided. He knew that with him expelled, he would no longer be able to protect Harry and Hermione within the walls of Hogwarts, but nothing would stop him from defending them outside or making a last stand inside. When he confronted Umbridge and her henchmen, he would make his argument clear by giving them a hell of a wand, to make them understand that, just in the moment any of them tried to harm any of their friends, there would be no place under the sun where they could hide from him. So that miserable crew on the other side of the door would get the message and refrain from really drastic actions against his two friends.

Being Ron under age, he would not end up in Azkaban, and the fact that this stinking band knew that he would be free to show up at Hogsmeade from time to time would help reinforce the message. That would give Dumbledore and McGonagall time to regain control of the school and protect both of them. The image of a knight being taken by the queen on a gigantic chessboard gave him a crooked smile meanwhile he faced, wand in hand, his fate. Checkmate, pal.

“Alohomora!”

Alohowhat? What in the h. . .; Ron didn't have time to complete the question that popped into his mind while his frown frowned in shock when he heard the spell on the other side of the door. But, if the door's not locked, why are they. . . ? For the second time, the idea died in his mind as he watched as the doorknob seemed to turn repeatedly in the attempt of someone trying to open the door, apparently in vain.

“ALOHOMORA!” It was heard again from the other side.” What's wrong with the damn door?” Again the voice of Umbridge was heard, this time in an unmistakable tone of irritation, as the doorknob was shaken more and more violently without the door giving way by a single millimetre.

-Get out of the way! This time there was real rage in the voice of the great inquisitor. On the other side of the door, Ron heard her to perform, one after the other, no less than 10 different spells trying to unlock the door and the paroxysmal movement of the doorknob had also given way to the incensed knocking of the door, as if in a primary resource and having failed magic, brute force was being used to force entry. It was then that he realized that his wand seemed to be emitting a dull buzzing sound that made her hand tremble.

“That's enough! I'm sure this is a joke of that brazen poltergeist”. Ron smiled. The toad's voice sounded more like a big walrus's breathing down from too much exercise. “Sure. He must have let out the scream and bewitched the door so that it could not be opened"; she continued, between gasping and panting.

“But professor”, Ron shuddered again at the sound of Malfoy's voice and to realize that his wand was shaking more intensely. “We've known Peeves since the first year, and that's certainly not his voice, nor is this the style of his jokes. He tends to be cruder and coarser by throwing stink bombs or buckets of ice water on the backs of the students. . .” The ferret's peroration was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a slap on the back of his neck particularly hard.

“Stupid”. Umbridge's voice sounded particularly annoying. “Do you dare to discuss a teacher's judgment? I tell you that all this is the work of that nasty spirit and, if all of you had been properly versed in the magical arts, you would have realized it right away as well”. Ron could not help but have a panting laugh. The toad had just beaten the insufferable presumptuous, frustrated by her inability to open the door and, trying to avoid looking bad in front of her acolytes, she had diverted attention and blame onto the asshole. My word. He would have gladly paid two months' pay for being able to see the ferret's face.

“This only proves the ministry right. The quality of teaching in this place has tragically declined and it is imperative that the ministry take control of it in order to instruct the young wizards and witches in the mastery of their skills. “With me!” It was heard like a whimper and then, the unmistakable tapping of a few steps away.

Ron stood waiting for an invisible trap to fall on him; meanwhile, his wand continued vibrating in his hand, though ever more faintly, until it stopped completely. He remained motionless and almost breathless for a few more minutes, hoping to believe in his good fortune and that he really had escaped from a more than complicated situation. Finally, he decided it was time to take a chance and averted his eyes from the door and consulted the marauder's map. He couldn't believe it! On the map it could clearly read “Ronald Weasley”, but on the other side of the door the map did not reflect the presence of anyone. Even in his surroundings there doesn't seem to be a soul.

Now or never, pal; he said to himself in encouragement and then, he set about turning the doorknob which. As before, it pivoted on its axis smoothly and pulled it, the door to stay locked.

“Shit”, he mumbled, but refrained from further attempts. In a sad irony, it seemed that the same mystery that had saved his freckled arse was keeping him prisoner of the room. “Well", he closed his eyes and as he concentrated he muttered. “Whatever it is, I really appreciate you helping me out, but I'd really like to get out, get to my room and forget about tonight. I swear I've learned the fucking lesson not to wander around the castle after curfew, or at least, not to be such an asshole as to scream in the hallway after curfew”. He looked at the door again and tried to open it, and again this one remained unmoved.

“Bloody hell!” This time the tone of his voice was noticeably louder. He turned in frustration on himself and looking up at the ceiling dropped himself over the door and, leaned on the back of his head as it tapped repeatedly against the wood in an attempt to alleviate his disappointment.

“Okay! It's all right. If the price I have to pay for escaping the damn pink toad is to spend the night in this room, I'll gladly take it. Tomorrow someone will come, open the door, cast the disillusioning spell on me, sneak out and I'll manage to find a way to justify my. . .

He jumped upright as he opened his eyes wide, realizing that he had no idea where he was! It had all happened so quickly and unexpectedly that all he could remember was walking through the door that was closest to him at the time. Once the surprise was over, he began to inspect the room, hoping to recognize it.

“I should've known better”. The sad whisper escaped his lips as if it were the sigh of a condemned man whose last chance for freedom is slipping away.

The shelves followed one another in countless rows . . . “Well, surely not countless. I'll bet Hermione knows “exactly"; the number of them, as well as the number of every damn book inside each and every one of them"; he moaned.

Still, he had to admit. Empty of students, under the twilight of the moonlight filtering through the large windows, the Hogwarts Library was magnificent. Magnificent and intimidating.

“As always, she is able to see things at first sight, which takes the rest of us years"; he sighed. “No wonder I am not even able to keep up with her thoughts when that adorable head of her gets going”. And that was precisely what was bothering him most at this time and had led him to wander aimlessly through the school corridors. That with all her brilliance, all her knowledge, all her fucking logic, she wouldn't have been able to see everything that was bubbling up inside him. . .

Ron had not been aware at first, but gradually he became aware of the presence of candlelight behind some library shelves. Initially he feared that it might be because of the presence of another person in the library, whether it was a student, a teacher or, at worst, Filch and his mangy cat. So he remained quiet, but since the light seemed to be steady, no noise was heard, and the memory that the marauder's map had shown no one in the vicinity, he ventured quietly behind the bookshelf to find out what it was.

It didn't take him long to discover that it was one of the candlesticks that supplied light to the library users, but what was really curious was that it was the only candlestick that seemed to burn in the whole library. He approached it with the aim of extinguishing the candles when they went out by themselves while at the other end of the shelf the candles of another candleholder began to burn expontaneously.

Having grown up in the magic world, these kinds of situations were no surprise to him. They were fascinating, no doubt, but not at all a complete surprise.

He had long known that in one way or another, every wizard, every witch, had left the magical sight of his existence on the world. He knew many examples of them:

The essences of the four founders who died long ago, in the sorting hat. Those of his twin uncles Gideon and Fabian also killed in the first war against Voldemort, in the house clock. The Marauder’s Map, with the essence of James Potter, and his friends. Even, according to Harry's story, who-you-know-who left part of him in the diary that possessed Ginny in her first year.

With more than a thousand years of existence, it was practically impossible to know how many wizards and witches walked, studied and lived among these old stones, and each one of them left his own mark. Some would leave a barely perceptible trace, but others performed such intense episodes of magic that the traces they left behind, seemed to have a will of their own.

The hat was left with the mission of continuing to sort the students by the time the founders were gone.

The house clock, to know the status of each family member and to be able to come to their aid if necessary.

The map conspired so that the big troublemakers could keep up their mischief at school and, the diary, somehow, tried to bring Voldemort back.

This last thought plunged her spirit back into sadness and melancholy bringing back the thoughts that had made her leaves the safety of the tower of Gryffindor:

Is that really all she thinks of me? Does she really think I don't know what Cho Chang is feeling?

Like answering that question, another group of candles went out to be immediately replaced.

I can't really blame her, can I? I've never been good at expressing myself, let alone how I feel, but then again, how could I? How do you tell the most wonderful woman in the world that you're crazy for her? That you regret terribly to be a clumsy, mindless, worthless lout. Which you know you don't deserve her. That you know that you shouldn't even notice me but that you can't help but love her more than my own family, more than Harry, more than the blood that runs through my veins, more than my life itself and that knowing and feeling all that is eating me up inside. How do you tell her you feel all this and more, ‘only’, because you love her?

Ron feels that dull pain in his chest again. A veil of tears struggles to leave his eyes as he rolls his shirt sleeve over them to prevent his vision from becoming blurred, and it is when he refocuses them that he sees it. The candlestick he approaches is no longer extinguished, but seems to beat as if prompting him to approach it, and as he does so, the booklet seems to slowly separate from the rest of his companions on the shelf, prompting him to pick it up.

When Ron takes it, he feels comforting warmth in his fingers, like if the worn book is meant to convey a feeling of friendship and comfort, like if it is telling him in a mute way that everything will be all right after all. A feeling that brings back memories of the day he got his wand. Not his brother's, but his real wand.

“What do you got for me, buddy?”

There's tenderness in Ron's whisper. Any of those familiar with Hogwarts' worst-kept secret would think that the redhead is pouring out in that act and onto an object so intrinsically linked to the image of his beloved, all the love and all the delicacy that he seems unable to show her as a victim of his own inferiority complex, while unwittingly moving towards Hermione's favourite place in the library.

It's magic.

It's part of the magic that resides in every corner of Hogwarts. It is the magic trace that perhaps a long time ago, someone left to help a heart desperate to find an answer to its silent prayer and, just like it should have been long ago, when the mortified Ronald Weasley opens the book, a magic wind stirs the pages of the book showing him one of them in particular, like the old friend who gives you good advice. That's why Ron reads. He reads with such intensity that his eyes devour the words written centuries ago and as he does so his gaze gets wet. Each line is like a balm on the wounds of his tormented heart while a bright smile appears on his face. Now, Ron knows.

And when he looks up, his heart is not only filled with love for the frizzy-haired know-it-all witch, but with infinite gratitude.

Gratitude for whoever put the book on the shelf at Muggle Studies. Gratitude for the wizard or witch whose essence left such a deep mark on the old magic of the school, that it reacted to his agony and gratitude to the one who wrote the words he has just read. Words that today give him the knowledge of knowing that he is not alone, that he has never been alone. That before him, millions of men and women, wizards and witches, magicians and muggles have experienced the same feelings, confusion and agony as him, with the fortune that some of them have been so daring, so privileged in their intelligence and endowed with the gift as to be able to express them in words, and guided simply by their instinct, Ron look for parchment and quill as he begins to copy furiously. . .

Hermione Granger seemed to be sleepwalking after leaving Professor McGonagall's office. The accumulation of events that had occurred in the last few hours that she had referred, to still seemed to be getting through to her.

Mr. Weasley had been attacked in the Ministry by Voldemort's snake! And he had only escaped death because of the early warning that Harry had given.

When she woke up this morning, she was surprised not to find Harry or any of the Weasleys in the dining room, which had led to an unpleasant feeling on her chest, but what had set off all her alarms was the story from Ron and Harry's roommates. She had immediately rushed to the teachers' table, when a simple gesture from McGonagall had instructed her that this was neither the place nor the time. Something that was confirmed moments later, with the appearance of Professor Umbridge demanding to know the whereabouts of the Weasley brothers.

In her mind, she could recreate the scene as if she had been there. She was about to bet that at this moment, Harry would be oblivious to the fact that he was the one who allowed Mr. Weasley with his warning. What's more, she would bet one of her O.W.L.s marks that at this same moment Harry would be blaming himself for what happened, convinced that Arthur had been attacked simply because he was the father of his best friend and so, he would be ruminating that feeling inside himself without letting anyone penetrate the shell of isolation he would have built around him, preventing anyone from making him see the absurdity of his reasoning.

Along with this feeling, her other concern was to imagine the state of Mr. Weasley and how the rest of the family would be passing the hours.

She could imagine their reactions and the visceral fear they must have felt in their hearts, when they were woken up in the middle of the night to inform them that, their father, was struggling between life and death, the victim of a Voldemort attack.

She imagined Mrs. Weasley tried to appear strong and confident so his family wouldn't break up. To the twins, whose jokes for once could not insulate them from the merciless reality of war. To Ginny in whose mind she'd be spending her ordeal in the Chamber of Secrets, to. . .

“Ron!” The moan escaped from between her lips and her whole mind was focused on him.

Hermione knew of the particular connection between Mr. Weasley and his youngest son. That one that not only covered the physical aspects that he also shared with his brother Bill, but also on other much deeper levels.

She knew that his father, in an effort to raise a progeny that seemed to have been gifted with a stomach that was as voracious as a black hole, had been forced not to devote as much time to it as he would have liked, and so, Ron had been raised basically by his mother, Percy and the twins. . .

"If the way they are used to behaving with him could be called raising," she snorted under her breath as she thought, how much of Ron's insecure and explosive personality was the responsibility of that pair of troublemakers. The point was, when Mr. Weasley was partially relieved of that burden after the emancipation of the two older sons, he had tried to make up for that loss of attention by devoting more of his scarce free time, and had taken him to watch his first quidditch match with the Cannons, from which the redhead's eternal love for the lousy team, emerged.

But Hermione had found many other similarities. Both were brave, though they tried to avoid direct confrontation, noting in common to evil or any temptation to try to abuse any situation of privilege, nevertheless they were fierce when it came to defending what they understood to be right.

Immersed in her thoughts, her legs led her to her sanctuary, that corner of the library that took her away from the usual hustle and bustle and allowed her to concentrate on her readings and the writing of her complex essays. The same corner whose window overlooked the quidditch pitch, from which, she furtively observed the training sessions of Gryffindor's team or, perhaps it would be better to say, the developments of one of the team's newest members.

As the smile insinuated itself on her face, Hermione could not help but reflect on how extraordinarily complex it was to understand Ronald Weasley.

Ron, sighed to herself. She really couldn't understand him! There seemed to be two of them and they alternated with each other in an unpredictable way.

Ron was loyal to a fault, but sometimes he seemed a little jealous of Harry's reputation. Most of the time he behaved like an insensitive fool and yet sometimes he surprised her with gestures of infinite tenderness. She could have the funniest talk with him and tell him all the places she planned to travel when she finished school, but it was mentioning Bulgaria and Ron seemed to turn into a manticore.

When he flew over the grounds of The Burrow, he seemed to be in perfect communion with his broom. She had been surprised to discover that sometimes the twins had suddenly thrown some quaffles at him and he would alter his flight to intercept them with an almost feline grace, but it was flying over the school pitch and he becoming into a nervous mess of hands and feet struggling to hold onto his broom, with an unsettling shade of green on his face.

For the most of the people, Ron was what could be defined like a lazy who was always behind in his schoolwork and unable to perform a spell correctly during class, but, the day after she helped him complete his homework or gave him a practical demonstration on it, he seemed to be able to perform it almost perfectly and, not even then! He seems to have a consistent line of behaviour at this point. Ron didn't seem to have the slightest interest in learning basic glamour spells, how transfiguring a rat into a chalice or making a potion to cure warts, and yet, he was perfectly capable during DA’s training, of transfiguring a cushion of The Room of Requirement into a solid block of solid stone to ward off a spell cast by Harry, while he counter-attacking him by throwing impedimenta spell that caused Harry to retreat ten yards.

And in spite of all that crazy, absurd, unrealistic and incomprehensible double personality she loved him. Oh my God, how she loved him! She couldn't understand it, but it was the truth and she knew it wasn't a young girl's crush, it was something else. She could see his faults and the weaknesses of his personality that he should try to correct, such as insecurity in himself and eternal self-comparison with his brothers and in spite of everything. . . there it was. The blurred sketch of the formidable man he was destined to become just by trying it from the bottom of her heart. A man who would make any woman's heart tremble like, he already did her own.

She was deep in thought about the irritating redhead when she discovered a parchment note carelessly folded in front of the seat she used to occupy in the library.

She opened it out of curiosity, recognizing the sloppy handwriting of the object of her tribulations as she began to read it. . .

"So, what's a teaspoon?"

As they moved along the lines of the writing, her eyes widened meanwhile one of her hands went over her chest in an unconscious attempt to calm the rampant galloping of her heart that seemed to have gone mad with the careless lines of writing.

“...To seem happy, sad, haughty, understated,

emboldened, fugitive, exasperated...”

It seemed that the world had been turned upside down and where once there was a mindless lout with the same sensitivity as a teaspoon, now there was someone who had been able to correctly interpret the verses her mind was slipping on. But that was inconceivable to Ron.

He... he really can't have been able to show me this, she thought as she began to reread thinking that she was being part of some kind of joke or enchantment the twins had left behind. A joke or a spell that should perhaps be called cruel because of all it was doing to feel to her.

To be fainthearted, to be bold, possessed, abrasive, tender, open, isolated, spirited, dying, dead, invigorated, loyal, treacherous, venturesome, repressed.

Not to find, without your lover, rest. To seem happy, sad, haughty, understated, emboldened, fugitive, exasperated, satisfied, offended, doubt-obsessed.

To face away from disillusionment, to swallow venom like liqueur, and quell all thoughts of gain, embracing discontent;

to believe a heaven lies within a hell, to give your soul to disillusionment; that’s love, as all who’ve tasted know too well.

“Ro... Ron!” The exclamation escaped like a whisper from her lips while her legs seemed to waver when she completed the last line. . .

“I do”

Hermione dropped into the chair at the impending failure of her legs to hold her as the crying made its way through her chest to replace her breath with an incoherent set of hiccups and sobs meanwhile she pressed the parchment to her chest.

No. Ron Weasley was not the callous wart she had said, nor was the imbecile with the emotional range of a teaspoon. No, Ron was just a normal teenager in constant confusion because of the tide of hormones circulating in his blood, the emotional overload of facing feelings whose intensity she herself knew very well, the recognition of the darkness that was approaching, and right now, the boy who feared for his father's life and who would put under a thick shell all the pain and all the terror that his heart harboured for, with an apparent indifference to avoid further anguish to his family during these times of tribulation, just as he did in the second year, when he went into the forbidden forest with Harry.

But, above all, Ron was her friend. The friend who needed her now more than ever, and as she began to write a letter to her parents explaining why she couldn't stay with them for the Christmas break, she couldn't help but notice the tremor in her hand and how her knuckles went white clutching her quill when one simple question seeped into her head:

Who- the hell- had taught Ronald Bilius Weasley what love was?

Notes: My infinite and sincere thanks and affection to @headcanonsandmore. Without their help, it would have been impossible for me to write this text in understandable English.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25219924/chapters/61129561

I would like to say, the inspiration for this work came after having a delicious chat with the author of the fic "Books" by @fightfortherightsofhouseelves ( You can find her work here in AO3).

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14771213

Obviously, the reference poem is not mine. I wish! The author is the Spanish poet Lope de Vega. Possibly the quill who has best expressed the feelings of love through its verses in universal poetry. The English translation was done by David Rosenthal.

#romione #ron/hermione #ron weasley #hermione granger #@headcanonsandmore #@fightfortherightsofhouseelves

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militant-holy-knight · 4 years

Text

Tom Kratman’s Caliphate Review: Disturbingly Prophetic

Its easy to forget that outright right-winged/conservative literature actually exists though admittedly it’s hard to find those with actual merit nor enjoy the same popularity as other types of works. I’ve came across one example written by retired US Army soldier Tom Kratman whom you may or may have not heard about if you are familiar with the Sad Puppies incident from 2015, where the Hugo Awards were biased against writers with conservative leanings. Kratman is someone who delights in offending left-wing sensibilities by his own admission and it’s reflected in his works that often deal with themes like fighting Muslim terrorists in sci-fi settings. One such of these works is Caliphate, written in 2008 and it struck me how... prescient this book was about the contemporary times and may well still be for the future.

The premise is as follows: Islamic terrorists seize nuclear weapons and use it to nuke three American cities during September 11 (as well as London and Israel). The American outrage against Muslims spirals into the election of a third-party populist candidate who promises vengeance against this attack, which he does by simultaneously nuking all Islamic countries in the world (and North Korea for good measure). This disaster leads to an massive exodus of Muslims into Europe who migrate there and thanks to their massive birthrates, they are able to hijack countries by voting for hardcore Islamist parties (as democracy must abide by the majority). They transform Europe - or at least Western Europe or the countries associated with the EU - into a Islamic empire, the titular Caliphate which functions like a hybrid of the modern day Islamist regime like the Taliban, ISIS and Boko Haram (public executions, lashings, women can’t be seen outside without being covered), and the Ottoman Empire (conscription and brainwashing of dhimmis into military service).

The story follows two parallel narratives: one in the distant future over a century after the terrorist attack where America has transformed into a totalitarian empire know as ISA (Imperial States of America) which is in cold war against the Caliphate in Europe and a second one set in “present days” when things are relatively normal but then we witness the events quickly fall apart. The first one follows John Hamilton, an disillusioned American soldier who is recruited by the CIA to infiltrate the Caliphate and investigate a trio of Canadian scientists who are working in a virus to destroy America. The second one follows Gabrielle, a liberal German woman that sees the collapse of Europe up close and tying them together is that she is the ancestor of one of the main characters. These narratives are told simultaneously and are always accompanied by critical quotes of Islam in their opening.

You’d think a work like this would be simply “AMERICA FUCK YEAH” and “FUCK ISLAM” over and over, but Kratman actually does a surprising amount of nuance. For one, it’s made clear that this America is really a dystopia and not an ideal place to live, reflected by its actions and Hamilton’s thoughts about it - at one point, US soldiers carry out ethnic cleansing against Moros in the Philippines and Hamilton is disturbed even after someone close to him died because of them. And while the book doesn’t hold back in bashing Islam, not all of them are portrayed as intolerant religious fanatics - there are genuinely good characters and even some grey ones with complexity added to them. For that matter, even non-Muslims can be villains too so it isn’t a black and white kind of work.

A surprising amount of world-building was put in place to make this world interesting: it’s established that the USA has occupied Canada and the Philippines, England has turned into an absolute monarchy, China has become some kind of transhuman empire, only a portion of Europe is actually under the Caliphate control with most of Eastern Europe under Russia control (because of course) and it’s heavily implied Israel has carried out a final solution against Palestinians. This can however can be a detriment because all these interesting paths are presented but never truly explored. We never see how the UK is under the absolute monarchy, nor this Russian tsardom and we only hear whispers about how bad China is in the distant future (which is implied to be worse than the Caliphate). The one that truly does get any exposure is the Neo-Boer State which was established in the southern half of the African continent by European refugees fleeing from Muslims in their own country and has a section of the story taking place there.

Besides Hamilton, there are other viewpoints in the story with the ones after his following German brothers Hans and Petra, two Christian siblings that live in the Caliphate and are taken apart by the devishrme-like system. He becomes a janissary soldier, while she becomes a servant in a Muslim household. Their stories are actually far more compelling than Hamilton since their struggles are more personal while Hamilton wouldn’t be out of place in a video game where he starred as it’s generic Space Marine protagonist. Hans remains a Christian despite his outward conversion to Islam and actively rebels against Caliphate culture which leads to him adopting a crusader identity, while Petra’s storyline explores the woes faced by women under a fundamentalist Islamic regime i.e. not unlike what those who endured Taliban or ISIS regime.

And make no mistake: the story never holds back on the graphic content. There is plenty of violence including impalement, crucifixions, sexual attacks and etc, which may be a turn off for many readers, and it doesn’t help they have to drive home how dystopian this setting is. It may come across as over-the-top as it made me wonder how plausible this Caliphate could even function (it’s established that the Caliphate can only function in a slave-based economy or taxing the dhimmis, which they can’t afford to abuse or exile since they’d collapse). The Arab Peninsula was once unified under Muhammad and his four successors who drove out all Christians, Jews and polytheists from their lands, but then fell into tribalism and stayed that way for centuries with only Mecca and Medina (the only relevant sites of Islam) being controlled by outsider Muslims.

I know I make the story sound unrealistic and fantastical, but the main takeway from this book I had was how prophetic the story was in regards to the current and political atmosphere. Keep in mind that what I am about to write was published in April 2008, in a completely different scenario than the one we live:

The insane American president who nukes the Islamic world is very Trumpesque and shares similar slogans (”WE WILL MAKE THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS PAY”). He is basically what leftists believed Trump would actually do if he was elected like put Muslims in internment camps like the Japanese-Americans in WW2.

Great Britain actually breaks out from the European Union, except under much different circumstances: rather than voting themselves out like Brexit, they turn into an absolute monarchy once again and become completely isolationist.

The rise of an brutal, terrorist regime mirrors the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria that rose to prominence during the Arab Spring in 2011.

A large-scale migration of Middle-Easterns into the West triggered by some kind of disaster, only it was an genocidal attack in the book rather than the consequences of a regional movement that led to the collapse of MENA states with the Arab Spring.

The “present day” narrative also presents scenarios no different than the current reality of Europe with no-go zones where migrants of Muslim background are involved in criminal activity and target the native population as seen in France, Germany and Sweden.

Islamists infiltrating democratic institutions in order to impose their values as seen with many neighbors in Belgium and the Netherlands where Muslims are the majority to the native population.

Russia expanding their control over Eastern Europe mirroring their foreign policy to consolidate their regional superpower status.

China being up to no good with technology.

And of course a deadly virus engineered to destroy political rivals, though this time by rogue scientists working for Muslim terrorists rather than China.

It’s possible that some of Kratman wrote was already true of his time which served as basis for the present day narrative. But reality was much different back then: Obama was yet to become President and Bush was still in office (and nobody had an idea how the former would turn out), China was less despotic then than it’s now under Xi Jinping, the Russo-Georgian War was still to take place and migration to the West was relatively low compared to after the 2015′s refugee crisis, the UKIP was considered a fringe party and the UK leaving the European Union was a distant dream. Nobody was talking about no-go zones, but then again the Internet wasn’t as big back then as it’s now. Rather than writing about the modern political atmosphere of his time, Kratman envisioned a possible future which he predicted fairly closely and at the same time, it spoke about issues that are relevant to anyone who isn’t afraid to speak about the problems regarding Islamic ideology or integration of migrants into their host countries.

What depressed me the most about the book is that it’s dystopian reality may be our own future. It’s an common concern for conservatives and right-wingers that Muslims become a majority in the West - a boast that they never cease making - soon which might lead to an eventual clash of civilizations. A quarter of Belgium might be Islamic and this is possible because of enabling from leftist politicians that flirt with radicals for convenience and consider the values they promote like women and LGBT rights to be an acceptable sacrifice to overthrow conservative capitalism. This kind of behavior is actually acknowledged and mocked by Kratman, as Gabrielle is an radical SJW that hates Western conservatives more than Islamists to the point this leads to the breakdown with her relationship with an Egyptian migrant that converts to Christianity and ends up moving to the USA before becoming a authoritarian regime.

The book presents Islam’s conquest of Europe as a complete surrender without a fight - the migrants just breed like rats and vote for Islamist parties to hijack the government through legitimate means and one American ambassador chides Gabrielle and her people for abandoning their own values and allowing this to happen. This probably speaks a lot to the more cynical among us who see our governments bending over to outsiders over their own people and see where it might be headed. Personally I don’t believe a caliphate is where the future is headed, as it provides no real attractive alternative that the West has presented, but it certainly won’t stop some people from trying and there will be certainly a fight.

Are we really going have to look forward for an revived Ottoman Empire in the heartland of Europe where Christian boys are whipped into slave-soldiers, girls are sold to harems like cheap prostitutes and non-Muslims live like second class citizens being forced to pay outrageous, humiliating taxes like the jizya? Hopefully not, but the possibility of terrorists acquiring nukes is an always constant one, and with the Iranian nuclear program will push it’s neighbors to do the same as form of deterrence if they feel threatened. Knowing how fragile Muslims states are and that if those nukes fell into the wrong hands, the events of the book could be precipitated but luckily for us, nuclear armament is expensive and takes a lot of work which not even the wealthiest countries like Saudi Arabia can afford to develop it themselves, let alone the poorest ones like Syria and Iraq so that might not be a reality just now.

Do I recommend this book? The world is very interesting, it’s actually a bit more complex and nuanced as both sides don’t come off as “bright” (albeit the Caliphate is presented as worse). If you want to see a book that talks about issues you find relevant like immigration and terrorism from a conservative perspective, this is a must-read. The main protagonist can be very dull whereas the secondary protagonists are more compelling - it depends on how much you like military heroes written by an American veteran I guess. While the ending to the main story was satisfying on itself (the present day ends on a sad foregone conclusion), it sets up a sequel with many plot threads going unresolved. It’s disappointing to me since this is a standalone book and Kratman hasn’t indicated any plans on writing a follow-up, though if he did it now I am sure he would have done so without a completely different perspective than the one he has in 2008 and he would have certainly got more material to work with.

P.S. This book has a Skanderbeg reference, so it’s an instant win for me.

#reviews

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dearjohnnyflynn · 4 years

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https://flaunt.com/content/people/johnny-flynn

AUGUST 9, 2017

ACTOR AND MUSICIAN JOHNNY FLYNN'S VARIED STORYTELLING GIFTS ARE PERFECT FOR NOW

BY CHANTELLE JOHNSON

As I dial the mobile number to speak to folksinger and actor Johnny Flynn, I’m struck by the fact that almost a decade has passed since his debut album, A Larum which established Flynn as a part of the new folk movement alongside Laura Marling and Mumford & Sons. Yet times change, and in the intervening decade, Flynn has returned to his first love: acting.

Before becoming a well-known musician, Flynn attended drama school with intentions of becoming an actor. “I went to acting school after I was recording and making music and I was doing it alongside music. So, I was doing theatre and plays at the Royal Court,” he says, “I made quite an effort to keep the two things separate. It was important to me to make sure that I was taken kind of seriously in both fields, so I didn’t go onstage as a musician and talk about acting projects or vice versa. They’re two quite different universes, even though they’re both performative.”

Having worked on various lo-fi indie films, plays and smaller acting projects, Flynn is now taking on his most challenging role to date, starring as the young Albert Einstein in the ten-part National Geographic series Genius, produced by Ron Howard. The show focuses on Einstein’s progression from an idealistic and rebellious young man just developing his most famous theories through to his later years – played by Geoffrey Rush – as the world-renowned, hyper-famous scientist.

Best known for his mop of shaggy blonde hair and blue eyes, how did Flynn end up in the role of the celebrated physicist with whom he shares no obvious physical similarities? “I just thought it was kind of ridiculous that I would be seen as Einstein and I actually kind of passed up on it,” Flynn admits to me over the phone.

“But I was telling my friend and she was saying, ‘You’re a complete idiot. That sounds amazing.’ She sat down and helped me send off the tape, even though I’d missed the deadline. The next thing I knew, I was speaking with Ron Howard on Skype. He was talking about Einstein in a way that made me feel really excited about being in the project, even though I didn’t think I had the right to portray him. It kind of went from there.”

The physical transformation amounted to an hour in the make-up chair every day: contact lenses, prosthetics, and having his hair dyed black. The show features an all-star cast including Emily Watson and Geoffrey Rush as the older Einstein, facing the rise of Nazism in the 1930s. Flynn had the freedom to construct his own version of Einstein – which he describes as quite liberating – since details on the young scientist’s character are sparse, aside from a few anecdotes.

Although they didn’t share the screen, Flynn says that creating the character was a collaborative effort with Rush to allow the two versions of the physicist to blend seamlessly. “We’d send each other references, clips, and people on YouTube and say, ‘this person is quite Einstein,’” he explains. “A broad range of people – like Harpo Marx, Bob Dylan in a press conference in 1964, or some funny clips of owls walking across branches. Or we’d collect adjectives that would sort of pertain to a collective idea of Einstein. It could be quite abstract.”

The program seeks to debunk myths about Einstein. Far from being a poor student, he was a solid scholar as a young man. He also had many complex affairs with various women, explored in the show as it traverses significant personal and historical events during his lifetime.

Aside from Genius, Flynn is filming the third season of the sleeper-hit show Lovesick. The series follows his hapless, romantic character Dylan who must inform his ex-girlfriends that he has an STD, while trying to navigate a quarter-life crisis as he explores his feelings for his best friend Evie, played by actress Antonia Thomas. Flynn has become incredibly close to the other cast members on the intimate shoot. “I’m in my bedroom at the moment and Antonia and Josh who plays Angus are in the living room watching The Night Of,” he says casually, “We’re all living together for these couple of months while we’re filming.”

Although it’s easy to imagine a student experience complete with bad takeaways and wild nights out, Flynn is a family man, married with two small children and he takes fatherhood very seriously. “I’m trying to be a whole person in front of my kids and not just this infallible deity, which was what my dad was to me, and I think that’s what makes for a big let-down when you get to 13 or 14,” he says. “My son is six and he’s super smart. He’s constantly wrenching my heart out of my chest with his observations and how he’s able to see the world. I don’t even want to be any kind of overseer or overlord to his existence. I just want him to flourish and be himself because he’s got such a unique perspective.”

Parenthood aside, Flynn has recently released his fourth studio album, Sillion (via Transgressive Records), a reflective record that explores his relationship with his father, who died when he was 18. It also touches on the current global political situation. “With everything that’s been going on in the world and the complex ideologies that have built up around the human mind and certain individuals and groups of people who are in conflict with one another, it just seems quite resonant to go back to something very simple,” he says, seemingly conscious of not sounding too earnest. “Rather than getting suspicious or insecure, for us all to look to the Earth and – this sounds incredibly hippy or something – but actually it’s just an image. It was for me, kind of a resonant poetic image.”

While he maintains a healthy dose of cynicism when it comes to mainstream politics, he intends to vote for Jeremy Corbyn’s Labour in the upcoming UK election. “I’m behind that train but I do think the whole system’s a bit fucked,” he begins, “the answer doesn’t lie in politics and I think it will take a few generations for all this stuff to work its way out.”

When asked where the answer does lie, he suggests reading an article by Robert MacFarlane on the Anthropocene – the term given to the current geological era, which scientists think will be determined primarily by human impact.

“He was saying that there’s a call to arms for writers and artists to come forward with the language to process and understand the new epoch that we’re in. I think that’s why I’m happy to be a storyteller at this point. It reaches into people’s hearts and minds in a way that politics can’t.” Considering his current trajectory – music for the heart, stories for the mind – Flynn seems ready to help us find new dialogues for conversation, and maybe to divine some answers therein.

Written by Chantelle Johnson

Photographer: David Needleman at Jones Management

Stylist: Joshua Liebman at Honey Artists

Groomer: Eloise Cheung at Kate Ryan using Dior Homme

#johnny flynn #johnnyflynn

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theparanormalperiodical · 4 years

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19 Spooky Things That Happened In 2019 - And The Links To Watch Them Happen!

365 days.

That’s as long as it takes to change the world.

This year, we saw Greta Thunberg take on world leaders, we bore witness to the Time’s Up movement flex its muscles, and we hit share on the first picture of a black hole. Oh, and your favourite blog was started!

And so, as 2019 draws to a close, chances are your Twitter feeds, your TV shows and your conversations will be crammed full of everyone’s own personal take on the year. On top of that, the final few days of the year will also be chock full of existential crises based on every resolution you failed to meet in the last 12 months.

(Until next year, driving licence...)

But regardless of the politics, and aside from those promises you swore to keep all-year-round, there are some events that simply go ignored. Like the spooky ones.

The ones about haunted baby monitors.

The ones about prophecies claiming this pope will cause the end of the world.

And the ones about the Loch Ness Monster’s Chinese cousin.

I wanted to change that. So, today’s article is going to take you through the 19 spookiest thangs that gon’ don’ went down in 2019.

For the last time this year: let’s get spooky!

#1 - A Nanny Cam Picks Up Paranormal Activity In Michigan (March)

It might sound like it’s fresh from the screenplay of some forgotten Paranormal Activity movie, but this tale has the evidence most ghost stories are scraping the bottom of the barrel for:

It may have seemed like a typical night for this Michigan-based family, but the usual practice checking on their child via the baby monitor took a turn for the terrifying.

The footage clearly shows a strange, transparent figure move in front of the crib, and the child watch it. But then, the baby cries, something that has been deduced to a sharp scratch found on its arm shortly after the incident.

An affliction from someone beyond the grave, perhaps?

Apparently so: the parents traced the history of their home back to a former tenant who committed suicide in the apartment.

Here’s the footage:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E7cNDGk_loQ

#2 - Lorraine Warren - The Inspiration Behind The Conjuring Universe - Dies (April)

This year we lost a paranormal icon.

Lorraine Warren was one half of the ghost-hunting dream-team that investigated some of America’s - and even some of the UK’s - most haunted places and people.

The inspiration behind the ever-sprawling Conjuring universe, Lorraine was possibly the most famous and established medium in the world, using her gift to communicate with spirits entangled in cases such as the Amityville haunting, the Perron family farmhouse, and the Devil Made Me Do It court case.

Whether it's the silver screen bringing their stories to the fore, or their haunted museum, there’s no doubt that she was pretty damn awesome.

#3 - A New Haunting Is Sighted (And Filmed) At Myrtle’s Plantation (April)

Myrtle’s Plantation may already be haunted by the dark history of slavery in the USA, but it is also famed for its less metaphorical paranormal activity: haunted mirrors, the screams of dying Civil War soldiers, and a young girl sporting a green turban are just a few of the things to see and hear at this Louisiana tourist spot.

Yet despite being opened in 1796, only this year was a new haunting witnessed.

And filmed.

https://video.dailymail.co.uk/preview/mol/2019/04/25/6516021902273592342/636x382_MP4_6516021902273592342.mp4

The story goes that a young couple were enjoying a romantic visit to the BnB - well, I say romantic, it’s a former plantation - and saw 3 pairs of small, ghostly feet scurry across the floor. When they reported this claim to the staff, it connected yet another dot regarding the paranormal portrait of the area.

It turns out that the ghosts of children are often reported by visitors and staff alike, whether it’s floral fragrances passing through the air, or being poked and touched by invisible hands. This aligns closely with claims that numerous children have died on the plantation as a result of Yellow Fever.

#4 - Zak Bagans’ Haunted Museum Is Temporarily Closed Due To Extreme Paranormal Activity (June)

When you gather enough haunted items together in one building, you expect some spooky-ass shit to go down, right? Well, that’s exactly what happened in June.

Zak Bagans - the mastermind behind hit TV show, Ghost Adventures - has his very own museum dedicated to the supernatural in Las Vegas, and had to shut down an exhibit citing danger to the staff.

Housed in this exhibit was ‘the Devil’s Wheelchair’, supposedly the chair David Glatzel sat in when exorcised as a part of the Devil Made Me Do It court case.

Concerns were first raised when a plug near the chair was yanked out of the wall by an invisible force, and a nearby door swung open in a similar fashion. Following this simple activity was an intensified level of activity which began to threaten the tour guides explaining the exhibit to visitors.

No less than 5 tour guides broke down crying for seemingly no reason whilst near the exhibit, and one even collapsed.

#5 - A Ghost Is Seen In The Love Island Villa (July)

This summertime TV hit might make the headlines for all the wrong reasons, but this story seemed to slip under the radar.

Joanna Chimonides, a rather controversial contestant from this year, claimed a blonde ghost visiting the sleeping contestants and bending over their beds was a common feature of their evenings.

It is what it is. (It’s a reference to the show, ok, I’m down with the kidz.)

#6 - Yet Another Sighting Of The Loch Ness Monster Is Reported (July)

The summer wasn’t just full of young men and women swanning ‘round Majorca “looking for love” - it was also chock full of sightings of Nessie.

Thanks to the warm, calm weather gracing Scotland in July, there was a spike in claims of seeing the beast as anything breaking the surface of the Loch was far easier to see. In fact, by the end of the month we’d had the 12th sighting of the year!

#7 - A Bar’s CCTV Catches A Ghost Doing, Uh, Ghost Things (July)

This year, the Idaho based brewery, Milner’s Gate, shot to viral fame having caught paranormal activity on its CCTV. The staff witnessed strange goings on in the dead of the night via their security footage, and uploaded it to YouTube to show what really happens after dark.

You can clearly see several barstools being pulled out from underneath a bar by an invisible force.

But someone could’ve been hiding underneath the bar, surely? Unfortunately, there was no space for them to hide.

Debate might still rage in the comments section of this YouTube video, but it is an interesting watch - whether you believe, or not.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LKXT7Vz9T6k

#8 - Hobo Hill House Gets Put On Airbnb (August)

Boutique hotels, country cottages, and cosy nooks in picturesque places tend to dominate the listings on AirBnB (AND drive up the prices). But taking in a coastal view isn’t the only option anymore: Hobo Hill House, a 109 year old house tucked away in Jefferson, bears the label ‘haunted’ instead.

Bought in 2017 by its current owners, this house supposedly features a variety of ghosts, and the resulting paranormal activity has amounted to the possession of the 8 year old daughter and their beloved family dog acting cray-cray. Within 7 months they’d got the hell outta there.

Most visitors cannot last the night.

#9 - Another Nanny Cam Sees Another Ghost (August)

It’s been a busy year for ghosts haunting and harassing small infants: in LA, a Nanny Cam app picked up movement of something unseen to the human eye. This brand used coloured splotches to indicate movement, and going by the human-shaped splotches by the crib, this suggested something - or someone - was shifting around the room.

However, the company behind the baby monitor cited poor setup and situation of the camera as the cause of this not-so-supernatural activity.

On top of that, anxious parenting of newborn babies is evidently a common cause of such claims. The debunking of this haunting continues…

#10 - Owlman Is Spotted Once Again - And Caught On Camera (August)

The Owlman of Mawnan Smith might sound like a crappy read you’d pull off a charity shop shelf, but it's actually a legend dating back to the 1920s. The original tale follows 2 teenage girls who saw a half-man, half-owl creature sitting on top of a church tower. The same year, another pair of teens saw the exact same thing.

But it was in the heat of this summer that Owlman struck once again. In August, a paranormal investigator captured footage - and a single photo - of what he claims is the Owlman. Yet beyond the classic blurry picture of something allegedly paranormal is the added experience of snapping the shot:

His team felt this surge of energy, and immediately sensed that this, uh, thing, was demonic. The camera then broke, and scratches soon appeared all over their bodies.

#11 - The Best Footage Of Bigfoot To Date Is Captured (August)

Yes, yes, I know.

Every other day someone is claiming to have witnessed and filmed the greatest evidence of the greatest monster and mystery this planet faces and omg guys drop everything and sub to my youtube channel look its not me in a gorilla suit i swear…

But this year, groundbreaking footage did indeed capture some crazy shizz.

Well, on reflection, ‘groundbreaking’ seems far-fetched for something that smells like yet another hoax. So, what do you think?

https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/9750471/best-bigfoot-sighting-video-woods/

#12 - Pool Parc Asylum Is Closed Off To The Public (September)

North Wales is home to many things: gorgeous views, even more gorgeous accents, and a haunted mental asylum.

(These are a few of my favourite thingggggss.)

Naturally, its a magnet to UK-based paranormal investigators who are in search for the next viral video. However, in the Autumn, the owner of the 200 year old manor discouraged visitors from touring the historic building, citing danger from the building’s structural integrity, and the increasingly violent paranormal activity that goes on inside.

Investigators typically witness strong activity, claiming stones behind thrown and bruises to the face are common occurrences for those looking to catch a glimpse of the supernatural.

#13 - The Chinese Loch Ness Monster Is Spotted For The First Time (September)

Is there room for 2 lake-based monsters on this list? Well, there’s gonna have to be.

This year a long, black creature was filmed swimming in the Yangtze, producing a viral video that all investigators of the mysterious seek.

Was it simply a piece of material floating in the water? Was it merely an over-sized sea snake that was subjected to pollution?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c4xRokjH2tkn

Yet despite the debunking, this is not the first time a creature of similar stature has been seen in China. In 1987, a similar monster was seen in the Kanas lake, and 30 years later, a creature even raised its head out of the water, sparking yet another viral video.

#14 - The Haunting Of The Harper Family (October)

October - obviously the spookiest month of the year - had a spooky start with the Harpers, a family who finally uncovered the truth behind the paranormal activity they experienced in their house.

Their North Wales home has witnessed it all - and I mean it all. Banging noises echoing through the walls, the smell of rotten flesh wafting through the rooms, and items going missing are just a few of the most common occurrences the family have been subjected to.

But on top of that, the mother of the family even watched a small army in clothing and armour from a few odd centuries ago march past the house. This was the hint they needed to trace back their house to Flint Castle, a nearby historic tourist destination.

It is believed that their house is situated on the location of battles gone-by.

This was confirmed in October as footage picked up a large glowing orb floating through their living room. And if you look closely, you can even see a face in the orb.

https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/weird-news/family-home-stinks-rotten-flesh-20763536

#15 - Major British Political Moments Happen On The Spookiest Days Of The Year (October, December)

Friday the 13th? Check.

The 31st October? Hell yeah.

It doesn’t get much spookier than that. Throw in some politics, stir 3 times clockwise, and say the magic words:

“Get Brexit done!”

Oh, just fuck off.

#16 - Paranormal Activity 7 Is Announced (November)

If you thought we’d seen enough of Katie and Kristi’s fucked-up childhood, then you were wrong! This year, yet another film was announced for release in 2021 cause why not drag out possibly the weakest series of film the horror genre has ever had to choke down.

As you can see I’m not pissed off, or confused by this decision at all.

Nope.

#17 - Elon Musk’s Spacex Satellite Livestream Captures Footage Of A UFO (December)

Livestreams of outer space are littered with claims of activity that go beyond the realms of our understanding. And it’s for this reason that aliens and UFOs make the headlines everyday based off this footage alone.

But it was this footage captured up in mid-December that was picked up by media across the world.

The livestream showed a white or silver disc-like object stream past a Falcon 9 rocket in a curved trajectory.

“Ah, yes, an upside down bowl flying through the sky - this isn’t news!”

Well, it kinda is, actually. It’s the curved bit that really got people talking; only an intelligently controlled being could make such a movement, sparking the speculations the supernatural revels in.

https://www.express.co.uk/a7b91874-827b-495d-b3cd-db25fe7f2976

#18 - Another UFO Is Spotted Above Las Vegas (December)

Only a few days before Christmas, a white orb was seen passing over Las Vegas, travelling at approximately 1000 miles per hour, and emitting blue and white lights. Not a sound was produced as it flew overhead.

This suspiciously silent craft is yet another sighting witnessed in Nevada, a hotspot for sightings of the supernatural and alien-kind. It is believed to be as a result of the proximity to Area 51.

https://www.express.co.uk/news/weird/1221270/UFO-news-aliens-Christmas-sighting-update-latest-las-vegas-Nevada

“Okay, so it’s yet another UFO sighting… But what’s so special about this one in particular?”

This footage was captured just after the release of official footage taken by the American Navy which shows a glowing UFO. The film shows the pilots stating that there were multiple UFOs there, rousing suspicion among those obsessed with conspiracy theories.

#19 - A Prophecy Claims The World Will End With This Pope (December)

We finish our round-up of the spookiest goings-on of this year with a prophecy dating back nearly 1000 years. Okay, yes, the Mayans seemingly predicted the world would end, like, every year, but this one bears some rather uncomfortable coincidences that can only confirm its potential reality.

And it all starts with this bloke called Archbishop Saint Malachy.

900 years ago, he travelled to Rome from Ireland to give an account of his affairs when he had a vision. He saw the 112 names of the future popes.

His prediction for the 111th - the former pope - was known as “Gloria Olivae”. The 111th pope is Pope Benedict XVI, and this fulfils the prophecy as the Order of Saint Benedict is the “glory of the olives”.

So, there’s a chance his predictions could be correct, right?

"In the final persecution of the Holy Roman Church there will reign Peter the Roman, who will feed his flock amid many tribulations, after which the seven-hilled city will be destroyed and the dreadful Judge will judge the people. The End.”

Our current pope’s father is called ‘Peter’, and despite moving to Argentina, he was born in Italy.

This is a problem because it is firmly believed that this pope will resign in 2020. So, as our final pope, this means the world might end in 2020.

Great.

So - What’s Your Verdict?

Which event do you think deserves the top spot of totally-terrifying-thing-o’-2019?

And do you really think the world’s gonna end in 2020?

Fancy hearing about more spooky shizz in the new year? Then you best be hitting follow.

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gefuhl-des-zweifels · 5 years

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Brian May: Enlightened Monarch

Author: Sacha Reins (Best, №118, May 1978)

It's no secret I'm a Queen fan. So I volunteered for an interview. Now, after a few weeks, when the interview took place, I admit the obvious: these young people have their own cockroaches.

[Sacha Reins, 70s]

It was a series of last-minute and appointed interviews that were cancelled under strange pretexts.

The sirs took a star. On the Sunday before the concert in Paris, their press agent told me to stay at home on the phone, and as soon as one of these gentlemen is ready for an interview, I will call, and I will immediately have to come. What was I supposed to do, send them away?

Then there's this ridiculous party. On the night of the second concert in the hall of a chic restaurant in their honor was a party where they were handed gold discs.

The group arrived ... and locked in a private office, so they wouldn't be disturbed.

Queen is constantly surrounded by a team of security guards-bodyguards-managers who systematically block the group.

As soon as you manage to overcome this dam, you come across charming guys who pretend to be surprised to see you furious at being treated like pigs. They know nothing! I don't believe that.

Queen, in fact, suffer from a complex of Rolling Stones. Like the Stones, they want to be chased by hordes of crazy fans. Alas, this is not so, they are part of a well-known group, but individually do not cause delight in the crowd. And so to create an illusion ... they surround themselves with a whole retinue and security service, as useless as grotesque.

An interview with Brian May took place one day in Zurich. In the evening I had to attend their concert and then have dinner with them. The interview ended, I took my things, called a taxi and went to the airport to go home. I'm tired of their antics. Brian May was very courteous, but his entourage certainly sucks.

Monarchy

– Are you satisfied with your Paris concerts?

Yes, very. For us, these shows were held in a very special way. We were beginning to think we were banned from France. None of our recordings were sold here until We Are The Champions. And as soon as this single was a success, we said, well, it's time to go. The first night we were very nervous. We have been told so many times that the Paris audience is one of the most difficult in the world! We were very careful the first night, almost closed, and I think the audience felt it. The second night was completely different: contact had already been established.

– I attended this concert, and several times you made me think of Led Zeppelin because of the music and the peculiar interaction between you and Mercury.

– This is not the first time when we are compared with LZ in one or another plane. In fact, I think there was a lot more common ground between Queen and LZ a few years ago when we started. But now we have moved away from this form of hard rock, we have developed our own harmonies, a style that belongs only to us. However, LZ and we follow similar routes because, forming as musicians, we were influenced by the same people.

– Is there any stage rivalry between you and Mercury?

– No, we are too close, we know each other too well, we had too many common problems. Freddie is the natural point of attraction of the group, and it's good that he realizes his charisma in this way.

The first person the viewer watches will always be the lead singer and then the guitarist. Therefore, it would be foolish to try to fight with Freddie for power on stage. Especially since he's a fantastic showman.

– No leader in the group?

– No. Whenever we make a decision, whether it's our business or music, we meet all four of us together, have a long conversation, and then decide what we're going to do.

We complement each other. Specifically, John Deacon deals with money. Roger Taylor is responsible for our communications with the outside world, I mean the outside world in relation to Queen.

– In this sense, I found that your behavior in Paris was a little strange. All of these appointed and revoked by the miserable occasions interview. This ultra-twitch security that has built a wall around you. This ridiculous party, when you took a private office with a thug at the door, which blocked access to other guests. As if journalists or promoters were going to attack you! It was all very strange.

– For our image well, that we look as excessively guarded and hard-to-reach group. So even more people will be interested in us. As for the party, I don't remember it very well.

Equipment

– Keep going. Who gave you the idea of this light installation?

– Nobody, we developed it a year ago with the help of our engineer Jerry Stickels.

– So she came before «Close encounters of the third degree»?

– Long time. So this similarity between the spaceship from the movie and our glowing crown is very strange. Americans were struck by this similarity. We receive many letters on this subject.

– You have a lot of stage equipment. This is a device that endlessly reproduces the sound of the guitar, have you been using it for a long time?

– Since 1972. It was necessary for us from the very beginning, but we had no money, we were able to buy it only in 72-m. This is a rather complex device. It took me a long time to learn how to handle it properly, and I also changed it so that it could play two different sounds indefinitely. Now I know it perfectly and can use it to play harmonies, counterpoints, chords.

[Vintage 1970's Maestro Echoplex EP-4 Solid State Tape Delay]

The trickiest thing is to perfectly tune the scene so I can hear exactly how the sound goes and comes back. If for some reason it is hard to hear what is happening, it is a disaster because I do not know how often to put a refund. But this has not happened for a long time, because now we have everything we need on stage.

We are sometimes criticized for the fortune we have invested in our equipment. This kind of criticism is quite inappropriate, because if we spend so much money on equipment, it's all for the audience to be satisfied, both visually and musically.

You see, we're interested in being able to play back what we're doing on the record. Complex harmonies and all that. But there are only four of us. We need the help of electronics, so Freddie and I are using these devices with endless echoes. We don't want to play pre-recorded tracks like some bands do. We don't think it's fair.

– But you use the entry in Bohemian Rhapsody…

– Yeah, but that's different. The BR passage you are referring to is a complete reproduction of a studio recording. We recorded this song as an Opera. Each of us sang about twenty different parts to reproduce exactly one big classical choir. It is absolutely impossible to perform on stage. We tried it a few times, but it sounded really bad compared to the album version, so we decided to play a pre-recorded Opera passage. But to avoid any doubts or misunderstandings, we give these recordings in complete darkness and do not appear until the hard rock part, which we play live. It's more honest.

– Where do you get all these classical and Baroque allusions that your music is filled with?

– I don't know, because none of us have any real classical foundations. I think that all this comes from the depths of our childhood memories, when our parents listened to waltzes on the radio, brass bands in parks on dundays. It must have come from there.

– Your latest album, News Of The World, doesn't have enough references to Baroque.

– Yeah. We went back to pure hard rock. Without excesses. We've come a long way in the Baroque style, a cross between Opera and rock, and I don't think we could have been more successful than with A Night At The Opera. That's why we came back to more unpretentious music.

– A Night At The Opera sold best, so don't you think you've disappointed a large audience who liked these musical tricks?

– We always disappoint someone, no matter what we do. When we started working with the Baroque style, we disappointed our first fans who loved us for our pure hard rock.

– They say you don't take vacations.…

– Yes, we work hard. Every year we lock ourselves in the studio for two or three months, then we go on a two-month American tour, then we spend two months in Europe, two months in Japan and Australia, and when it's over, it's time to go back to the studio for the next album. We have been living in this rhythm for five years.

– Bands like Queen and all the major British bands we've seen in recent years have been getting more and more stage equipment. Now everyone has lasers, bizarre scenes, smoke generators, etc. When will this arms race end?

– Never. Show business will always follow with interest the development of technology in all that relates to audiovisual information, and use it to create even more pompous, beautiful and impressive shows. However, there is a very clear reaction from part of the public (I'm talking about the rock audience), especially in the UK, where most young people want the bands to return to the adequate stage art as it was ten years ago.

I don't mind, but here we are faced with a mathematical impossibility. To play without assistive devices, you will have to work in small halls, even in clubs where your creative energy is in direct contact with your audience. There really is no need for a rotating stage and smoke, everyone is in direct contact with the music. But the famous band will no longer be able to play in small halls.

[News Of The World Tour]

Look at Paris, in two days we performed in front of 18,000 people. In a hall with two thousand seats we would have to play for everyone nine days in a row and eighteen days – in the club. At this rate, it will take us ten years to travel around the world, it is unthinkable. That is the only way to have time everywhere – to play in the huge halls (and believe me, Pavillon de Paris – not the biggest).

[Pavillon de Paris (aka Les Abattoirs de la Villette – "Slaughterhouse in La Villette"); as a concert hall for about 10,000 spectators, the building was used from 1975 to 1980.]

Now, about the question you asked me. I don't know how or when it will end, but I know what the next step is: holography. A hologram is a three - dimensional photo projection in space. It will be possible to create incredible scenery, in a second to project the Grand Canyon of Colorado or skyscrapers of New York in 3D, creating the illusion of full presence. The basic principles are developed, but everything else is still in the process of testing for wide application.

Fantasia

– What about Sex Pistols?

– It's a band that we really like ("we" means Queen) and I'm really sorry that they broke up. But it was almost inevitable.

– Why?

– They were under too much pressure. The British music press (the worst in the world) has made the lives of these guys unbearable, making them both heroes and scapegoats. The British press, to keep circulation, so needs in stars, that fabricates new names for couple of months. And an ordinary boy is not easy to survive the rapid transformation from a young nerd to a star. Most young talents don't know how to handle it. If by a Fluke they stay on the horse and become really popular stars, then the same press that inflated the whole story, smears them on the wall, because it feels that they are out of control and will be able to do without her support.

The British press is destructive, and Sex Pistols is not the first victim. We had a chance to succeed without the press. When we started, we were not written about, and when it did happen, the whole thing was limited to three contemptuous lines. As a result, we were able to gradually and without their help to gain the trust of the public.

– How long will you stay together?

– Hard to say. At the moment, everything is fine, we get along well, we are famous all over the world. Why run away?

– Do you see yourself on the rock scene in forty years?

– Perhaps by that time our music will develop in another direction. Maybe we'll have other ambitions. Personally, I am always guided by some achievable goal, to conquer France, for example. Or something like that. Make a full house in Madison Square Garden or Earl's Court.

If one day we reach the point where all desires are fulfilled, because we have already achieved everything, it will become a serious problem. That's what happens to Elton John.

Everything he could wish for, he had already received. He was not destined to become more famous or rich. He can only go down, because already at the top. He is unhappy because life cannot give him anything new. I don't want to be in this position.

– You wanted to conquer the French public, and you did it. Got a new target?

To lose the French public, so that there is a goal to return it. No, I'm kidding, to compose music so beautiful that animators could create on its basis at least the same beautiful cartoon as Fantasia. And finally take a vacation. Long vacation.

Source: http://queenfrance.online.fr/htm/presse/article3.htm

Translated from French: @gefuhl-des-zweifels

#queen #brian may #70s #interview #freddie mercury #roger taylor #john deacon #news of the world #bohemian rhapsody #led zeppelin #sex pistols #hard rock #rockband #rock music

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callmeblake · 5 years

Photo

Kerrang Issue #1761

Magazine Release Date: February 20th, 2019

Issue Label: February 23rd, 2019

Photo Credit: Jen Rosenstein

Illustrations: Brian Ewing

Partial Transcription (from pressreader.com) below:

Kerrang! (UK)

20 Feb 2019

words: emily carter illustrations: brian ewing

“MAKING MUSIC IS MORE FUN THESE DAYS…”

BREAKS HIS SILENCE

Since he was a kid, GERARD WAY has sought solitude in the world of graphic novels – first as a reader, and later, with the weight of the rock world on his shoulders, as a creator. But now, he explains exclusively to Kerrang!, working on the Netflix adaptation of his THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY series helped him reconnect with his love for making music, too…

Gerard Way keeps track of his personal goals using what he calls “the grown-up list”. One at a time, the 41-year-old will tick off these life objectives by means of self-care – a concept he’ll admit he hasn’t kept on top of lately.

“On the grown-up list are all these things that I have to do to start participating in life again,” he explains in a gentle, endearing New Jersey accent, dissecting a mysteriously methodical approach to his return to the public eye – though, it has to be said, still sounding very much like a big kid at heart.

For the past “two, three” years, Gerard feels as though he hasn’t been looking after himself while under the strain of his demanding career as a comic-book writer. And while his workload certainly isn’t slowing down any time soon – if anything, it’s on the increase with the reintroduction of music now, too – he is at least making his own positive changes little by little, “piece by piece”.

“Enough time goes by and you’re tired of feeling tired, and tired of feeling unhealthy, and tired of doing unhealthy things to yourself,” he admits. “I hit a point where I was like, ‘Enough’s enough. I gotta move my body and find a doctor.’ I hadn’t had a physical in I can’t remember how long. It was just time, you know?”

Undertaking this new journey, Gerard first started off by giving up smoking. He afforded himself just two weeks to ditch the cigarettes, before moving on to the next task. “You can’t do it all at once,” he explains thoughtfully. “I quit smoking before doing anything else – like change diet or going to see a doctor. I just take these things in steps. Even if I did have all the time in the world to attack the grown-up list, you have to take any major life change slowly and gradually.”

Had Gerard felt so inclined as to keep a similar grown-up list for professional targets when he first emerged as My Chemical Romance’s awe-inspiring leader in 2001, its trajectory would have accelerated significantly. Darting into the spotlight in 2004 with their astounding second record Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge, the frontman quickly became uncomfortable with the intrusive – and borderline paralysing – nature of their fame. It’s no wonder that, between 2006’s triple-platinum The Black Parade, and the festival-headlining status that came with fourth and final studio album Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys, Gerard recently labelled the group’s journey as “uncontrollable”. The band’s explosion was just as dramatic as their eventual breakup almost six years ago, and it took Gerard just over a year to then return into view. An excellent Britpop-inflected solo LP, Hesitant Alien, followed in September 2014, and even landed at spot number four in Kerrang!’s top 50 records of that year. No grown-up list – no matter how fool-proof – could accurately record or predict those kind of whirlwind peaks and troughs.

In his life as a comic-book writer, though, Gerard’s accomplishments have kept up a steadier, but no less impressive, incline. As a graduate of New York’s School of Visual Arts and a former intern at Cartoon Network, his imagination and visual creativity was harnessed long before his audio talents came to light. While his comic-book debut in 1993, On Raven’s Wings, was cancelled after just two issues, Gerard’s near 100 (and counting) writing credits have just about surpassed his contributions in music; he even ran his own imprint under the legendary DC Comics banner for two years, Young Animal. And while its status is currently listed as ‘inactive’, Gerard has emphasised that it’s “not the end” of that venture. Now, his prominence as a fullyfledged award-winning comic-book writer is a marvel (no, not that kind).

“The thing about doing comics is nobody asks you about your personal life, they don’t ask you about the drugs you used to take, they don’t ask you if you’re breaking up,” he told Kerrang! while still with My Chemical Romance in 2010, openly battling with the allure of a life buried in books. “They talk about the work. I wish people would talk about the work in music. In music, people want to know what makes you tick – in comics, people don’t care.”

Given the appeal of a more serene existence, it’s clear Gerard’s current primary occupation perfectly suits him. Just as he helped change the face of rock 15 years ago, however, he’s beginning to make similar strides in comics. Once again, he’s got the big guns knocking on his artistic doorstep.

“If anybody ever asks me for advice about being creative, it’s always just to make the things you want to see,” he shrugs, either oblivious to his skills or just strikingly modest. “Make something that doesn’t exist, that you wish existed – that you wanna read, or see, or listen to. That’s the one thing that I’ve applied to everything I’ve done: all the art I’ve made and the music I’ve made.”

Following this surprisingly simple mantra, Gerard now has a tremendous feat on his hands: his apocalyptic comic-book series, The Umbrella Academy, has snowballed into a 10-episode live-action show of the same name, and hit Netflix last Friday. By now, you’ll probably have already watched the lot. For the programme’s main brain, though, while he may have spent release day just ticking off another box on the grown-up list (“I had a physical that day with a doctor, so…”), this marks the beginning of his “participation” in life again. Gerard Way is back.

Gerard Way is obsessed with comics. Across the span of our interview with the author-turned-musicianturned-author again, he says the word “comic” no fewer than 28 times – each utterance more passionate than the last. Yet it wasn’t until 2008, while still active with My Chemical Romance, that he began to feel the effects of his written works’ potential. And not just in the field of comics, either; he was suddenly struck with the realisation that he could make this his full-time work instead. When he and illustrator Gabriel Bá – a man Gerard credits constantly and with great

“I’VE ALWAYS AIMED TO MAKE SOMETHING THAT DOESN’T EXIST, THAT I WISH EXISTED” GERARD WAY

respect when discussing the project – were awarded a prestigious Eisner Award for The Umbrella Academy’s first mini-series, it shook him to the core.

“It was scary at the time,” he mentioned in a Kerrang! cover feature at a later date, “because it was another thing that said to me, ‘Hey, you could go and do this. You won’t have a huge career, but you could make a living. There was a part of me thinking, ‘I don’t have to be a singer anymore.’”

Just days after receiving their Eisner, Gerard and Gabriel’s graphic novel was optioned by Universal Pictures. Plans for a potential movie were in development “for quite a while”, until it eventually fizzled out and came back to Umbrella Academy’s publisher, Dark Horse Comics. Then, the idea for a TV show was conceived – and Gerard was instantly sold. Not that it was ever something he’d ever considered when first penning his comics all those years prior.

“You know, I tend to be a visual thinker,” he begins. “When I was first starting out, I was told to embrace the medium of comics: just make a great comic. I think that that’s a common mistake that people make – they see a comic as a film, and they’ll just present it as a film. And there’s a lot of things you can do in comics, and it would almost short-change that. You need to embrace what a comic can do, and then you’ll make a really fantastic one. If you’re just trying to present it as a film, it doesn’t work as well, in my opinion. I still follow that advice to this day.”

Gerard loved the idea of giving his painstaking and deeply intricate world a new long-form narrative, and a way of going deeper into the story’s characters (all of whom are either a reflection of people he knows, or himself). Before taking various meetings – including with Netflix – both he and Gabriel sat down with Universal Cable Productions executive vice president of development, Dawn Olmstead, and discussed their aims.

“My goal was to give those guys the material to make a really great show,” Gerard explains. “That way, if they made a show and it’s successful, they always have material to go back to. That’s always been my goal: to tell a really good story that I have control over.”

Nine years later after its original plans fell through, it was eventually settled that Netflix would be the way to go. Joining forces with a company that had both “the highest production value” and that was also “artist-friendly” made the most sense to all involved. “We knew they would let the show be what it needed to be,” Gerard nods.

By this point, the series’ creator had slipped away from the limelight to create a 20-page blueprint for show-runner Steve Blackman. The Umbrella Academy thus far has three volumes – Apocalypse Suite, Dallas and Hotel Oblivion – but Gerard will eventually complete the story through eight graphic novels in total, many of which are still to be finished (“I have it all planned out, and I’ve just got to kind of write it now…”). In advance of the show’s development stages, though, he needed to let his new colleagues know the whole plot.

“There were talks early on about how much of my involvement there would be – if I wanted to be a co-show-runner, if I wanted to write scripts,” remembers Gerard. “And I really put the emphasis on making the source material and making the comics, so I had to let go of certain things. I weighed in on a lot of them, but ultimately it was Steve’s call to make. I liked letting go, though, because it allowed me to keep moving forward in the ways that I wanted to, which is with the comics or anything else I want to do.”

Working with Netflix became a daily job. From set pieces to wardrobe choices, both Gerard and Gabriel would give extensive notes in the 18 months it took to produce The Umbrella Academy, ensuring a happy climate was reached between their individual artistic palettes. It’s not a giant leap to compare the birth of Gerard’s latest project to My Chemical Romance’s studio swansong, Danger Days. While still in the throes of The Black Parade’s overwhelming success, the frontman had moved to LA from New Jersey in 2008 and was focused on comics – not just The Umbrella Academy, but also a bold, bright new sci-fi spectacular: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys, a story of the aftermath of a battle against a tyrannical corporation. Having written and subsequently scrapped The Black Parade’s original follow-up, the frontman was then struck with inspiration on a family retreat in the wilderness, wracking his brains with what to do next.

“I had an epiphany, I had a vision,” he told Kerrang! back in October 2010, of how this new comic informed what would become My Chem’s fourth full-length. “I was writing all these crazy lyrics and they were fearless and fucking reckless. I had this vision in my head, and everything I had been working on in the comic – the masks, the laser guns, the cars, everything – started to swirl around in my head.”

So how does the creation of a comicinspired album measure up against bringing The Umbrella Academy to life on TV?

“You know, they’re both intense and stressful in their own ways,” Gerard smiles. “But one of the things I’ve learned as I get older is that being in the studio and making music isn’t nearly as stressful – it’s a lot more fun these days. Having said that, although things are a little more high-stakes on a film set, we had a lot of fun with that, too.”

Early last year, The Umbrella Academy’s primary architects headed to Toronto to oversee the first week of filming. They were there to “answer any questions and give a little direction”. Though their focus was undeniably on creating the best comic-to-screen transition

“AS I GET OLDER, MAKING MUSIC ISN’T NEARLY AS STRESSFUL – IT’S A LOT MORE FUN THESE DAYS” GERARD WAY

“I DON’T LIKE TO DWELL ON THINGS. I LIKE TO MOVE FORWARD” GERARD WAY

possible, Gerard also remembers the weather; it was snowing, a sight he hadn’t seen since touring Hesitant Alien three and a half years prior. Once more, his two worlds briefly reacquainted themselves.

While in Canada, he and Gabriel reviewed “dailies”. “It hit a point where it was like, ‘Alright, this train is going, they know what they’re doing,’ and I could divert my attention back to the comic,” Gerard says. “Then I was able to work on it remotely – most of the work from my end was done through email or phone conversations, so I could be anywhere in the world and I was still able to watch the footage on my laptop, or whatever computer I was at.”

Once that week was over, Gerard kept a distant watchful eye over filming, which carried on until July. Elsewhere, his time was split between writing more comics, drinking copious amounts of coffee, collecting vintage T-shirts and miniature painted figures, and watching his wife of 11 years, Lindsey – bassist of Mindless Self Indulgence – feed birds and squirrels at their family home.

Rather ironically, his days weren’t spent watching a great deal of television. Even now, he’ll partake in an episode or two of a binge-worthy programme if Lindsey wants him to check it out – but he’ll never consume the lot in one go. “I think that makes my opinion on what we’re making with Umbrella Academy, in a way, even more valid,” he suggests, “because I don’t watch all this stuff. I read a lot of books.”

Most exciting of all, though, is that almost every Friday, Gerard Way began to create music again.

Around 54 minutes into The Umbrella Academy’s fifth episode, there’s a mind-bending shoot-out featuring, among others, Mary J. Blige. While the action unfolds, a familiar voice quietly hits the eardrums. ‘ Imagine me and you, I do / I think about you day and night, it’s only right…’ croons Gerard Way alongside former My Chemical Romance bandmate and guitarist extraordinaire Ray Toro, in a cover of The Turtles’ hit Happy Together – both rich in personality, but also similarly honouring the original. It’s not the first time Gerard and Ray have teamed up in such a manner: last month, they unveiled another joint effort in the form of Hazy Shade Of Winter, originally by Simon & Garfunkel, for The Umbrella Academy’s official trailer. But this is arguably Gerard’s most epic comics-meets-music crossover yet.

Steve Blackman, says Gerard, “thought it would be really nice for the fans – both for fans of my work as a musician, and my work as a comic writer. He thought it would be really cool, and I thought it would be cool, too. It would be silly to not do a song for the show! We ended up doing a couple, which was really great. And I’m sure there will be more in the future.”

The music Gerard made each week last year wasn’t just for The Umbrella Academy – it was also for himself. Possibly over-ambitiously, the musician hoped to release these new sounds once a month, though his workload soon put paid to that. He does, however, now boast “quite the collection of demos”.

“Right now it’s just a stand-alone thing,” Gerard says, “but I think at some point – maybe for a vinyl or something – it would be nice to collect all these songs, just as a body of work for something that I did. With all the work and the show coming, it has been harder to try and do a song a month. And I knew that that would kind of happen back when I first mentioned the goal of trying to do that, just because of all the extra work that was coming. But we’re still making music every week.”

Gerard has enjoyed the process of juggling his own music and songs for Netflix enormously. His recent solo tracks – Baby You’re A Haunted House, Getting Down The Germs and a touching Christmas number featuring Lydia Night of The Regrettes called Dasher – have deliberately not been “overthought”, though music for The Umbrella Academy can be a little more laborious.

“It’s a bit more work, because it’s for something cinematic,” he explains. “It’s not that it has to reach a higher level, it’s just that it’s a different level. The solo stuff is just kind of up to me, and what I want that to convey, or what nature it has. Whereas with the show, everybody has to really be blown away by it. So maybe, in a way, it’s more a little bit of what Ray [Toro] and I and the guys in My Chem used to do; we apply a little bit more of that to what we do in these cover songs for Umbrella Academy.”

Is it a strange feeling to revisit that kind of creative process?

“It makes it really fresh and exciting,” Gerard grins. “It’s actually really nice to go back and do something like you once did it, because you have more experience and wisdom and knowledge. As you get older you bring all these things the way you used to do. It’s refreshing at times – especially if you’re doing a bunch of experimental things. It’s refreshing to go back to your core, and your roots, of what you used to do, and apply your new knowledge to that.”

Gerard Way’s musical future for now, then, will remain both blissfully free and totally spontaneous – a far-cry from his MCR days. But he couldn’t be happier about it.

“I like to move forward a lot,” he enthuses. “I don’t like to dwell on things very much. I don’t usually like to revisit them, either. I like to keep moving forward and putting out new things. I like to try new things and experiment.” Gerard repeats himself once more. “I really like doing that.” K!

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY IS AVAILABLE TO WATCH NOW ON NETFLIX

#gerard way #K!1761 #kerrang #february 2019 #2019 #patch jacket #smithsonian institute shirt #jen rosenstein #kerrang art print

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things-we-used-tc-share · 5 years

Text

And then there were five

Warnings: Children, sort of

Ship: Logince

Plot: What they hadn’t expected from what could be marriage, is to actually create new life.

(This is not an mpreg dear lord you heathens)

When Logan and Roman had first become a ‘thing’ (As Roman had so very eloquently put it, Logan had many more words that had involved the words ‘intricate’ ‘relationship’ and ‘copulation’ to which Patton had many questions and both Virgil and Thomas were adamant none of them were answered), they had always somehow, somewhere assumed that one day it would end. Until they didn’t that is. Even the logical side could not tell you for a moment when he stopped thinking about the impending doom that was the end of the relationship and started to see it more along the lines of “This childish idiot is actually the love of my life and will be forever,” (His words, not mine).

At some point that was the case, they had started their relationship in a rocky path of discovery and had lived day to day with the idea that one day, this would be over. Until over time, those thoughts became as infrequent as the hot weather in the UK (That is to say sometimes those thoughts would stay for half a day and then disappear to some other country and return about seven months later for an afternoon).

Now, those thoughts don’t exist at all. They’d even dare to say those thoughts seem like a distant memory, things that existed and no longer don’t, like a...dinosaur. Which is good news because they’re all but married (”Patton you’re not a certified Pastor!” “No, I’m a Pat-stor!”), and even better news because right now, staring up at them with messy brown hair and brown eyes is essentially a creation of they’re own doing.

“That’s a child,” Virgil mutters whilst staring unblinkingly at the child “How does that...happen?” He stares at the two but finds no answer in the petrified look on Logan’s face, nor the confusion in Roman’s. It’s only Patton who has the guts, or perhaps the emotional ability that is larger than a teaspoon, to actually approach the child, cooing as he sucks his thumb and giggles.

“All the sides that have appeared previously now appear at the age in which Thomas is, this doesn’t make sense,” Logan being confused is very rarely a good sign and Virgil most definitely does not like that, but he gets a feeling that he already knows the answer, as impossible as that answer would be.

“What if it’s, I mean he’s, an uh...fusion?” He gestures between Roman and Logan “You know none of the sides have ever tried establishing a romantic emotional bond before, what if this is what happens when they do?”

“Oh, I get it!” Patton gasps suddenly “Roman,” He looks very seriously at the man in question “Have you seen any Storks around?” Logan buries his face in his hands with a tired sigh and Virgil tries to pull a face between sympathy for the man and some form of congratulations for Patton for coming up with an idea.

“Okay well whatever the answer is, that’s not it,” Roman starts off before approaching the child “But either way he’s going to be a side, he has to be so the best way to determine where he came from will be to wait and find out what exactly he is,” Logan nods before eyeing the child curiously. He meets Logan's gaze and then beams, holding out his tiny arms, Virgil would’ve laughed at the sheer terror on the other’s face if he wasn’t still so Anxious about the situation. “He seems to recognize his father,” Roman teases before volunteering himself to pick up the child, who seems overjoyed by the situation, little laughs escaping his mouth. Even Virgil doesn’t have the heart to find something bitter or cynical about this situation.

“Patton, I have a method we could use to help determine perhaps what-I mean- who he is,” Logan looks undeniably flustered, quite unsure of himself and he’s not the only one, even Patton is shifting from one foot to another and wondering if he’s going to have to read childcare books, or if toddlers can eat cookies. “You have a box of things you use to keep us pre-occupied, perhaps if you brought them here for him to look at, he will be drawn to one his function will feel most connected with,”

“A toddler is not going to understand how to use a Rubix cube, Logan,” Roman chastises playfully, still balancing the child on his hip. “But I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try at least,” Patton scurries off to his room, before returning with a bigger box than expected.

“I threw in some of the old toys the others used as well, just in case,” Virgil stiffens slightly, his eyeshadow darkening under his eyes before Patton is quick to reassure him “That doesn’t mean he will be like the others though, kiddo, there’s a lot of uses for these things,” Virgil still looks tense but he nods anyway and watches. Roman places the child down and, as expected, he begins to look curiously through the box, pulling things out and then putting them down in a very neat line when he decides he doesn’t like them (Logan take note of the organization and hopes nobody else notices when he pales a little at the similarity to himself) (Everyone else lets out a sigh of relief when the toy knife is placed in the line of no interest, followed by a rubber snake).

The child sits with only two objects left, a Rubix cube and a coloring book. The child looks at the colors on the cube and slides them around and then he keeps sliding them. In less than two minutes he finishes matching the colors and places down the cube. Logan really does look like he’s about to pass out.

The confirmation of just where and how this child came about (in a very vague sense, none of them have any idea of exactly how this happened), comes when the child picks up the coloring book and begins to draw the Rubix cube. It’s a perfect metaphor really, Logic meeting creativity in a very abstract way.

“Well he’s definitely yours but how does this answer who he is?” Virgil finally says, whilst Logan sits down, wearing the expression every man wears when they realise they’re a father to a three-year-old child. When he’s finally gathered his composure, he takes a deep breath.

“I...predict perhaps he is a fusion,”

“Normal people call that a child, Logan,” Roman interrupts, but he sits next to his almost-husband with a sympathetic smile.

“No I mean literally, Roman, I think he is a fusion between parts of our personality, created to ensure a stable balance between Creativity and Logic within Thomas, created from what I assume is our relationship,” He pauses “So yes, our child,”

“I’m gonna be the first to say it, that kid is going to be the most socially inept child to exist in the history of the Universe,” Virgil mutters “I mean it’s not like we can just...leave him somewhere, and we’re not just going to leave you two to look after him because you know,” He pauses, then sighs, trying not to admit he was getting all emotional on them “It wouldn’t be right to just expect you to do that,”

“The real question is,” Patton interrupts, a serious expression on his face “Can we look after a child? I mean, we looked after ourselves as children when Thomas was a child and it’s not like nutrition and stuff is going to be an issue but like...can we make him happy?” He pauses “And also can I make him cookies? He looks like he wants cookies,”

“Patton’s right,” Logan agrees with a serious expression “Looking after ourselves as children were easy because we knew what made us happy, we had set goals and ideas of who we were,” He stands up “He’s not like that,”

“He’s a mix of two distinct facets,” The creative side stands next to his partner “Which kind of means he’s probably going to spend a lot of time wondering who he is and where he belongs,” Virgil blinks at them with an expression of ‘wow I wonder who could possibly know about that?’ seconds before the realization dawns on them all simultaneously and they turn to stare at him.

“He’ll be okay,” He finally says, if not to calm their worries “The hardest part about not knowing where I belonged was that I didn’t have anyone there to tell me where I belonged, he’s going to have confusion but...he’ll also have us,” Logan seems to visibly relax before he approaches the child, kneeling beside him. The child takes only seconds to notice his presence and discard the coloring book in favor of attention, all but flinging himself onto Logan’s chest.

He stiffens for a moment, panic on his face as he looks up for guidance, finding frantic gestures symbolizing he should hug the other and pick him up. Once again, he begins to relax and does so rather awkwardly at first but once he’s standing with the child balanced on his hip he seems to fall into a form of natural instinct.

“God you’re so cute,” Is the general response, in a variety of different words and levels of excitement, Patton’s being the most energetic with Virgil’s including the words “Sickening,” somewhere in there.

“Dada!” The child exclaims happily. Logan lets out a squeak. Roman places a kiss on the other’s cheek before taking the child into his arms. Virgil sighs and rests his head against the banister, understanding that from now on things were going to be very different, he catches Patton’s love-struck gaze as the eldest beams at his friends and the new addition to their family and it’s enough to make him relax. Things were going to be different, but that doesn’t mean they were going to be worse.

@analogical-mess // @unikornavenger // @mycatshuman // @creativity-killed-thekitten//@theresneverenoughfandoms//@charmingprincey//@aclickonapostwillchangeyourlife//@heck-im-lost//@k9cat//@stilljittery//@romansleftshoulderpad//@sanderssideslibrary //@max-is-tired//@therealmoshar//@punsterterry//@trashypansexual//@miserykillme//@demigodnamedathena//@sevencrashing

Add yourself to my taglist: Sanders Sides/Thomas Sanders

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#sanders sides #logince

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kwa-aj · 5 years

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The Kind of Weird Adventures of Ana Jayanshakar - Episode 03

I Think I Just Struck a Deal with the Mafia

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“Hello, lovelies!” Estelle’s giddy voice bounced off the immense concrete ceiling of the space hangar. Her eyes swept the array of docked ships greedily.

“’Scuse me? May I help you?” A shortish man with a big nose peered up at them, grasping a clipboard with the appearance of utmost business.

Estelle looked down at him, grinning widely. “Yeah, actually. We’re looking to rent the SS Yugoslavia.”

“Ah.” The man shoved a small pair of eyeglasses onto his nose and flipped through a couple of his papers stacked on his clipboard. After a few moments of perusal, he waved his hand for them to follow and started down the concrete aisle in between docking stations.

Estelle narrowed her eyes as she walked after him. Ana jogged behind her, staring wide eyed at the vast amount of space ships lined up at the docks. She had seen a few at museums and vaguely remembered a middle school trip to a space port in Ohio. But that was nothing compared to the ships she now saw, each powerful and unique and crawling with their respective crews and mechanics. She wondered what it would be like to actually experience… space. The darkness, the sense of wonder, the pure newness. I guess I’ll find out soon, she thought.

Estelle stopped so abruptly, Ana almost bumped into her back. They had reached a small white-ish door which opened to a plain office painted an unhealthy green.

“Come in, please.” The salesman plopped down behind his desk and gestured again for them to walk inside.

Estelle narrowed her eyes again and hesitantly stepped over the threshold. Ana opened her mouth to ask what was bothering her but the words never left. Hands grabbed her arms and a rough fabric bag was shoved over her head. “Hey!” she shouted, alarmed. A similar exclamation, although not quite as pure, informed her that Estelle was in the same predicament. Ana attempted to reach for her necklace but a zip tie was tightened immediately around her wrists. Hands pulled insistently at her elbows. She awkwardly jogged along until her head was pushed down and she felt the sensation of cool leather underneath her. I’ve been kidnapped and forced into a car, she thought. So much for space and all its wonders.

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Ana decided car rides with one’s head stuck inside a dark cloth bag are officially the most boring way to travel. She found herself counting speed bumps to pass the time. The muffled scent of cigarette smoke made its way to her nose. After the time equivalent of being stuck in a Disneyland que (also known as eternity), the car finally slowed down and Ana was pulled outside. After walking a short distance, she was pushed down into a chair that creaked. The bag was yanked unceremoniously off her head. She blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the sudden bright lights.

“Privet, Miss Jayanshakar.” A gray-haired man with an unexceptional face sat with his hands folded behind a large white desk. Two huge men in dark suits flanked him on either side.

Their cheekbones could kill a man, Ana thought. Someone sneezed to her right. She glanced over to the chair next to her. “Estelle?” she asked.

Estelle wiggled her nose, annoyed, and sank back into her seat. “Would pay for a handkerchief about now. Don’t you ever clean those bags?” She sneezed again and glared at the man behind the desk. “So, what happened? We get kidnapped by the Russian mafia?”

The man smiled. “Precisely. Miss Livingstone, I presume?”

Estelle rolled her eyes. “I suppose. Why’d you ask?”

The mafia boss beckoned to the intimidating flunky on his right. “Dispose of her. We have no need for her.”

“Wait!” Estelle struggled as the flunky pulled her up from the chair, kicking out at his shins. “What are you doing?”

“What’s going on?” Ana jumped up out of her seat, alarmed. The other flunky pushed her back down placidly. “You can’t kill her!”

“Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, Miss Jayanshakar,” the boss replied calmly.

“What do you want, then?” Ana craned her head to glance frantically back at Estelle, who was being promptly dragged away through the narrow doorway. “Is it because of the alien invasion?”

“Da, Miss Jayanshakar.” The boss nodded primly. “You will fetch good price from multiple buyers. UK government, US government, Russian government. Even alien force has reward for you.”

“Wait, wait!” Ana panted slightly, watching as the door slammed behind Estelle and the flunky or assassin or whatever he was. Guy who killed people. “I’m the only one who can stop the invasion! Don’t you want that?”

The boss raised his eyebrows and nodded again. “That is ideal. But you must understand…we must make profit. If we do not sell you to governments, we would sell you to alien force. In this case, aliens will invade Earth. But we have agreement with them. You must work with enemies to make them work for you.” He chuckled slightly and gave instructions to his remaining flunky in Russian.

Ana gazed down at her feet, currently encased in a muddy but trusty set of black rainboots. Work for you… She glanced back up urgently. “What if – what if I work for you?”

The boss abruptly stopped speaking and turned surprised eyes, a sudden silvery blue, to stare at her. “What did you say?”

“I’ll work for you!” Ana exclaimed impatiently. She felt Estelle’s time ticking away rapidly. “You said you wanted to have an agreement…have your enemies work for you. I can stop the invasion and work for you. The UK government, the US government – whatever – they’ll be at your mercy because you’ve got me. Any world government, really. I’m your trump card, don’t you see? Now, let my friend go!”

“You…work for us?” The boss blinked at her. He gazed back his flunky, who stared back, equally stupefied. “I do not think anyone…” He turned back to Ana and narrowed his eyes. “You must not betray us, Miss Jayanshakar.”

Ana nodded so hard she was sure whiplash would set in soon. “I’ll do whatever you want. But let my friend go first!”

The boss nodded slowly and after a brief eternity, spoke a few words of Russian to his flunky, who strode quickly out of the room. He and the other flunky assassin walked back inside, dragging Estelle between them.

“What’s going on?” she demanded.

“I, uh, offered to work with the mafia,” Ana explained.

Estelle’s dark eyebrows shot up so fast, they could’ve reached the moon in record time. “You – “

The boss abruptly cut her off. “I have conditions of my own, Miss Jayanshakar,” he announced, rising from his desk. He was shorter than she had expected. He took two steps and stretched his hand out towards her. “Other than this, we have deal, yes?”

Ana nodded tentatively. “Could you untie me, first?”

“Of course.” He snapped his fingers at the flunky on his left, who neatly cut the zip tie around Ana’s wrists.

Ana rubbed at her wrists gratefully and accepted his handshake. “Can I ask your name?”

“I am Maxim Dvorak. I am in…exalted position of St. Petersburg organization.”

“I see. So, what are your conditions?”

“You and Miss Livingstone will go into space, yes?”

“Yeah, we are. I have…powers that can stop the alien force.” Come to think of it…I have no idea what my powers actually are. She hoped she sounded like she did.

“You must take one of my employees. She will make sure you are not betraying us. This is agreeable, yes?”

“Perfectly,” Ana replied, absolutely dreading the prospect.

“Vlas, get Nadya,” Dvorak ordered the flunky on his right, who had untied Estelle and resumed his customary intimidating flanking duties.

“Da.” Vlas set off down the corridor.

Dvorak turned back towards Ana. “She is one of our computer engineers. You will find her most useful.”

Estelle chuckled, rubbing at her wrists. “Hacker,” she muttered. Ana was about to nudge her sharply when Estelle perked up and exclaimed, “Oh! I completely forgot. A computer engineer. We need a computer engineer. I can’t operate the ship’s computers by myself.”

“I’m so glad you thought of it in the first place,” Ana muttered.

“Nadya is here, Mr. Dvorak.”

Ana and Estelle turned around. A tiny, pale girl with a silvery blonde bob stood ramrod straight behind them, hand resting on one of the chairs.

“Nadya, you are to join their crew as computer engineer,” Dvorak said shortly. “Miss Jayanshakar, Miss Livingstone. This is Nadya Zelenko. One of our best.”

Nadya nodded curtly. “Privet.”

Estelle stared at her, mouth agape. “How old are you?”

Nadya glared at her. “Nineteen. How old are you?” Her voice carried a light accent but she spoke English even better than Dvorak.

Estelle sniffed. “That’s classified information.”

“Oh.” Ana turned back to Dvorak. “We also need a ship.”

Dvorak smiled. “Of course. Our dockyards you visited have many good ships. We will sponsor which one you choose.” He snapped his fingers at Vlas. “Take them back to dockyards. Here’s to one long alliance, Miss Jayanshakar. What do you English call it? Symbiotic. We have symbiotic relationship now. Do not forget.”

Ana felt the side of her mouth curl up into a smile, as well. “Thank you, Mr. Dvorak. Have a nice day doing…mafia stuff.” She waved her hand as she and Estelle followed Ivan out into the corridor. Nadya promptly fell into step behind them.

“Great,” Estelle muttered. “We have our own personal Chekhov.”

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Author’s note: Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to like or reblog. For more of the Kind of Weird Adventures of Ana Jayanshakar, follow kwa-aj or chroniclesofspaceandstars.

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superchartisland · 5 years

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Super Mario All Stars (Nintendo, SNES, 1993)

Any overall roadmap for this project (and my brother’s related predecessor) is very lightly sketched, but this is a useful point to reflect on it. We grew up playing Dizzy games; part of what we’re doing is trying to reclaim video game history as we and many other Brits lived it, to demonstrate how the American-led received wisdom is a rewriting of the record. All of my research suggests that we were in the majority there -- in the UK the NES didn’t get a look in, and we’re not going to properly encounter the Game Boy until it’s a decade old.

Even this first Nintendo direct encounter is somewhat of a guess. Super Mario All Stars was a documented best-seller for the SNES, but in an absence of evidence I don’t know for sure that it was big enough to be an overall UK #1. I remember hearing about it a lot at the time, and by then the SNES had had a chance to build an audience, but remember that this blog covers games which were a #1 but not necessarily always the #1. Yet at the same time as I refute the story that Nintendo swept in to replace a dying industry -- neither happened like that in the UK -- we’re pretty keen on many things Nintendo. I have a NES Classic Mini, SNES Classic Mini and a Famicom Classic Mini sitting under my TV: loving recreations of consoles which I never owned.

In the internet era, this kind of adoption of history is probably more common. When I wrote the first version of this post I had recently watched the period piece music video for Satellite Young’s “Don’t Graduate, Senpai!” and was overwhelmed with contented nostalgic feelings, left with the power of a glimpse into a familiar and loved past. All that despite the fact I’ve hardly ever listened to the Japanese genre that it takes after, City Pop, or watched shoujo anime, and never when I was growing up. The person who it is precision targeting isn’t me. But it needn't be. There can be a feeling that is just as real, but second hand, a gravity exerted on adjacent culture that was invisible until something made me look over and notice its force.

youtube

There are lots of ways that the influences on the song and video reached me. My partner did grow up with a lot of Japanese pop culture in Hong Kong, and talking with her about that and having watched a couple of episodes of Creamy Mami means having a feel for her fond memories. I have years of happily browsing tumblr gifsets of Sailor Moon, absorbing love for it and its place in culture. I can still get good use from a “but you didn’t do anything!” meme even if I’ve never actually watched the show. I’ve listened to 80s referencing music elsewhere, and modern Japanese music taking cues from City Pop, and that has added up to giving the sounds of the song a similar personal gravity.

And all of that has been made easier by the world getting smaller, by the internet giving providing an easy route to interests you share with people elsewhere in the world and from there to interests they share that you don’t. Look at it negatively, and it means a winning narrative can travel faster and become more comprehensive than ever, reaching into places where it doesn’t belong. But at the same time, it gives us a Japanese band and some Swedish animators uniting in their shared nostalgia, and it reaching out to me through next door culture which I’ve taken in via friends from all round the world, and me having feelings shared with those friends. That’s an amazing thing.

In common with most people I knew, we didn’t have the internet when Super Mario All Stars came out, and the world was still huge. Nintendo had other tools to work with, though. Their games were successful enough to reach out and have an outsized cultural impact beyond the limits of people actually playing them.

When I started primary school, before football stickers, there was a craze for Nintendo sticker books, and friends and I collected images of all of their games. People tried to negotiate enhanced swaps for stickers of Game Boy screenshots by maintaining that they were gold stickers, even more valuable than the special silver ones. I knew more about the characters and background for Mario through Saturday morning cartoons, and I remember watching American TV programmes where people competed through playing Super Mario Bros. levels. I assume it made it to the UK’s own Gamesmaster at some point too. And of course, many of the European games we were playing took their own influence from Nintendo. I may have been unaware of Metroid until years later, but hours spent playing Turrican still gave my first impressions of it that nostalgic gravity.

Mario was Nintendo’s most successful reach out to the wider culture, and that wider culture drove people back to Mario’s original form. That could work better for Nintendo if Mario games were easier to access, and so we get Super Mario All Stars. What to do when moving on from the NES to the SNES? Reissue, repackage, re-evaluate the games! Super Mario Bros., Super Mario Bros. 2, and Super Mario Bros. 3, now brought together in one place. With an extra track, no less, in the form of Japan’s very different Super Mario Bros. 2, new to the rest of the world and hence called The Lost Levels. From 2019 the very idea of levels being lost feels faintly absurd – someone will dig it out in a mod, or you can just log onto your alternate Japanese online console account, surely? I guess a handful of British people probably did own imported Famicoms even in 1993, but everyone else got their cross-fertilisation of culture mediated by Nintendo’s eccentric international release schedule.

Super Mario All Stars presents each game in its entirety, complete with newly upgraded graphics. Yet, in some way, the games seem to shrink in the transition. The act of selecting a game to play from a menu, turning them into pinned specimens labelled by year, emphasises the overall history and starts you off with a reminder that each world is only a part of a newly defined whole. Maybe that's why there is no Super Mario All Stars on the SNES Classic Mini, an assessment that the bird-inside-a-bird effect of featuring a retro collection on a retro collection would be that bit too spookily recursive.

And that idea of recursion is where the realisation struck me as I played Super Mario All Stars. It wasn't the first version of Mario I played, (it was the first Super Mario Bros. 3 that I ever played, though, the briefest of enchanting glimpses). But it feels absolutely right as my version of these games, even for Super Mario Bros. 2 where I'm pretty sure I'd never played this version before. The very sense of diminished scale, the way that All Stars exists as a Mario game aware that not only each individual game, but the games as a whole, are but a small part of the Mario out there in the world, feels totally fitting. The feeling runs through everything. The upscaled renditions of the music which expand on it but nonetheless can't escape how iconic the basic originals were. The decision to put Super Mario Bros.’ underwater waltz on the title screen with the new confidence that duh, it rules. The little portraits of what to expect that have been added to the start of each level, not spoilers but cute reminders. This is a Mario for the late to the party, an artefact of the games' immense second hand cultural gravity, reflected back into the games themselves. It's a sign of so much to come.

In reflection of it being the first time these games have come up on my route through history, here are miniature entries for each of the four games on Super Mario All Stars, pinned to one place:

Super Mario Bros.

It’s all about the movement. Specifically, the jump, the balletic means of progression which sits at the tempting boundary of predictability and control. It is not the only game jump, it was not the first game jump, but it is somehow still the Jump. When you press the jump button the moment stretches in time, a repeated joy that resounds slightly differently from Jump to Jump. Sometimes the Jump is relaxed, sometimes the Jump is tense, sometimes the Jump is a celebration of achievement. Gravity and momentum make their claim on you, and you must not reject them or bow to them, but turn towards them, take their hands, and dance. Only when you are the lead in the dance can it proceed in its full majesty. All of the subtle design, killer music and cleverly revealed secrets play their part too, of course. The richness of the world, day and night, water and dungeon, clouds and green groundclouds, isn’t to be underestimated. The dance wouldn’t be as kaleidoscopically beautiful without all of that. Fireworks might not always be necessary, but they are still fireworks. And yet it is the dance of the Jump that gives meaning to it all.

The Lost Levels

It’s common in games for many a character or object to be accompanied by its inverse, its mirror, its shadow. Maybe it’s a product of how games are made, were made, of the commonality of repetition and the short distance from repetition to repetition with a twist. Super Mario Bros. 2 (“The Lost Levels”) introduces one such shadow as almost its first move with the poison mushroom, power-up turned to power-down. It takes that to a whole new level with the negative warp zones: welcome to warp zone, now a trick on you. The whole game, in fact, is a cruel mirror held up to Super Mario Bros., a reflection that looks right but doesn’t wave back. Much of its cruelty comes from luring players into familiar actions and then turning them back against them. This game is a dance too, but it’s one where the floor is trying to throw you off, where the steps and flow that you have learned are not only impossible to use but will quicken your downfall. But for some people who already know the dance back to front, perhaps trying to freestyle your way through some spiky math-rock is an enjoyable next step.

Super Mario Bros. 2

It’s common in games for many a character or object to be accompanied by its inverse, its mirror, its shadow. Maybe it’s a product of how games are made, were made, of the commonality of repetition and the short distance from repetition to repetition with a twist. Super Mario Bros. 2 (“Super Mario Bros. USA”) is the Waluigi of early Mario games, a mirror of a mirror. It doesn’t focus on the shadows of objects and characters, though, but whole shadow worlds. Pick up a magical potion and you can open a door anywhere, take a subtle knife to the fabric of the universe, walk through the doorway and find yourself literally in shadow. Even outside of that mechanic, there are doors everywhere, and each one could go anywhere. This is the world of the subconsciousness, where possibilities extend to such things as a playable princess and gliding across the world on a gravity-resistant egg. Super Mario Bros. 2 is barely even a Mario game, and handles more awkwardly than one. Yet among all of its doors, it opens one to one of the series’s futures, platforming which is first and foremost a series of puzzles and doors to unlock.

Super Mario Bros. 3

This is the game where Mario learns to fly, tail flapping, on unseen wires in front of platforms casting shadows on a sky painted on sheets. The game is a show, and it’s some production. It has a cast of thousands and is the introduction point for almost as many iconic series images as the original. Its brilliance as sequel and as theatre is in taking the solid and dependable gameplay and mechanics of the original and using those as building blocks, the platforms of its stageset, then rearranging them. Each world rejigs and relights them and makes them interact with new props and characters for a set of dramatically different scenes. Water levels go from brief distractions to an entire world; the desert and an idyllic grassland emerge; World 7 turns off all of the lights to interact with the bare mechanics of pipes. The transitions between levels feel like curtains down and a chance to move things round. And then occasionally it breaks all the underlying rules and throws you into giant world or climbs up through the clouds, and there is nothing to do but laugh in delight. This is the game where Mario learns to fly.

SNES chart, Edge 004, January 1994

#every number one #retrogaming #SNES #Super Mario Bros.#Super Mario All Stars

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objectivesubjectivity · 5 years

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Second Chances: “A” Albums

The following are “A” albums I wanted to give another shot at Top 100 Condenterdom and/or favorite “A” albums of my peers. This is their last chance to continue on in the quest.

The Beatles - Abbey Road

For what it’s worth, my mom was an avid Beatles fan and procured most of their records in her teenage years. However, a handful of these albums were met with a sharpie from her sister who decided, if her name was on the item, it was hers. I’m pretty sure Abbey Road was one of those albums because I don’t remember seeing it on our record shelves growing up. Perhaps that is one of the reasons I don’t find it to be, as a facebook friend once commented, “not so much an album as it is a magical ray of sunlight dropped from heaven to prove that perfection is possible.” Don’t get me wrong, it’s a very good album with very good songs and a killer ending opus, I just find it flawed in ways I don’t have the history to overlook.

And this brings up a larger conversation about subjectivity and objectivity. I have long held the belief that the more people agree upon a certain opinion, the blurrier the line becomes between subjective and objective. “Graceland” being a “good” album is nearly an objective fact. Motown at a wedding party: “good.” the final season of Game of Thrones: “bad.” These are purely subjective takes that have found enough consensus to almost become objectively true. But how we land on that subjectivity in the first place makes a difference. And, for my money, it seems to be a combination of personal history and social influence.

Think about it: Most of the opinions on the Beatles I come across stem from a deep history with the band. It helps that plenty of my peer group had parents who grew up in the hayday of Beatlemania and that adoration has filtered down through the generations. One might wonder, as Danny Boyle recently did, if one wasn’t to grow up on the fab-four, and was instead introduced to them much later in life, would this same reverence take hold? Or would they go down the Ben Shapiro “overrated” route?

And then there’s social influence. The more people that subscribe to a similar opinion, the wider that net becomes and the easier it is to access, often with less work. Take Nickleback for instance. I would put money down that most people who equate that band with the anti-Christ haven’t listened to more than a handful of hits. The general consensus is that Nickleback is “bad,” and so it’s much easier to stick to that opinion than to do the work necessary in actually forming it for yourself. Case in point: I personally received quite a bit of social media scorn for expressing enjoyment of Puddle of Mudd’s “Come Clean” (sorry, it’s an enjoyable listen).

So back to Abbey Road. Clearly, in the musical world, there is consensus regarding this particular album (although even the Pitchfork 10/10 review doesn’t understand the appeal of “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)”), which makes my subjective opinion stick out like a sore thumb. And that sore thumb feels immense pressure from the musical zeitgeist to heal itself and become part of the fold. It is much easier to plop down in the wide, comfortable hammock of belief than to bear the weight of the side-eye, scoffs, and shame when you choose the stubborn old rocking chair.

But I’m choosing to do the work on my opinions. Over 3 years worth of work. And objectively, I’m sticking to my subjectivity and leaving Abbey Road off the list.

R.E.M. - Accelerate

“Accelerate” initially jumped out at me because it accomplishes a rare feat: it actually sounds like a return to form. Mind you, the form it’s returning to is more “Monster” than “Murmur” but it’s light years away from “Around the Sun,” and to call that a welcome change would be a massive understatement. But it’s also light years away from “Automatic for the People” and “Life’s Rich Pageant.” And seeing that the latter didn’t make the cut the first time around, there’s no way this album’s gonna make it either.

U2 - Achtung Baby

This is a recent pick up and only got the second listen because a friend ranked it as one of their top “A” albums. In fact, I’ve only recently acquired any U2 albums at all. I don’t think I’ve spent enough time with them on the whole to make an opinion on which one of their albums I like the most and whether or not it belongs on this list.

Neil Young - After the Gold Rush

If you were to ask me, going into this week, what album had the highest likelihood of landing a spot on the list, I would have told you this one. I had only listened to it once (I grabbed a copy of it mid-way through phase one) but it made an immediate impression upon me and I was eagerly awaiting a second listen. So it came as a surprise that I was left feeling underwhelmed upon a second spin.

But then I happened to be at a friend’s party on Saturday and this friend put me in charge of choosing a record to play. There was a stack left on top of a speaker and hanging out underneath a stack of reggae compilations and a dusty copy of “Graceland,” there it was.

Perhaps I should add fate to that “history + social influence = subjectivity” equation because, after one more listen this morning, the contender list bumped back up to 119 again. Congrats, Neil.

Sufjan Stevens - The Age of Adz

This is a really good example of how loose and free I was at the start of this journey. This album is far too overwrought to warrant a possible Top 100 slot and yet, I dabbled with that thought way back in 2016. Also, he’s still got two albums on the contender list, so there’s no big loss here.

fun. - Aim and Ignite

This album is a great example of what happens when there are no wrong answers and that’s probably why it struck me so hard the first go around. But while that limitlessness brings about ample moments of unexpected brilliance, it also can feel like no one’s really helming the ship and there are only so many times I can find joy in getting lost.

Steely Dan - Aja

Ultimately, it’s too jazzy for me, but I don’t regret giving it another solid listen. And I love me some “Peg.”

Grateful Dead - American Beauty

This was a tough one. On the one hand, these are 10 well-crafted tunes that clock in at a respectable 42 minutes and make for a very comfortable (and comforting) ride. On the other hand, they’re played with a looseness and devil-may-care attitude that, honestly, feels a bit disrespectful. But then again, I’m not a dead head; I’ve never quite understood the thrill of a 10 (20? 30?) minute solo. And to someone who lives for those meandering discoveries, perhaps the sloppiness is as necessary as the thoughtful arrangement. Perhaps those moments of infallibility make it all the more human and endearing. “American Beauty,” is staying off the list for now but it’s probably not the last time I’ll give it a good listen on this quest.

Rancid - ...And Out Come the Wolves

There are only so many ways you can go from the 1 to the 4 or the 5. And the more I listen to this album, the more that sentiment rings true.

OutKast - ATLiens & Aquemini

It may be a couple years before I get to “Stankonia,” the OutKast album currently on the Top 100 Contender list, but I cannot listen to these albums without thinking about its strange and circuitous path and how that keeps its 24(!) tracks fresh. Both “ATLiens” and “Aquemini,” are stunningly forward thinking and ambitious, but their journeys’ aren’t nearly as thrilling or strange as “Stankonia.” And I can’t seem to get over that hump.

The Jimi Hendrix Experience - Are You Experienced

I don’t do enough drugs for this to make the list.

It’s also not fair to judge this album solely on the US version, seeing that the track listing on the UK one is vastly different. But both contain “Third Stone from the Sun.” And I just can’t dig it man.

What I listened to last week:

Top 100 contenders in bold.

The Beatles - Abbey Road

R.E.M. - Accelerate

U2 - Achtung Baby

Neil Young - After the Gold Rush

Sufjan Stevens - The Age of Adz

fun. - Aim and Ignite

Steely Dan - Aja

Grateful Dead - American Beauty

Rancid - ...And Out Come the Wolves

OutKast - Aquemini

The Jimi Hendrix Experience - Are You Experienced

OutKast - ATLiens

Albums listened to in total: 2,283

Top 100 Contenders: 119

Next week’s album: Aimee Mann - Bachelor No. 2 (Or, The Last Remains of the Dodo)

Think I missed an album? Challenge me! The list is alphabetical by letter.

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