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manjuhitorie · 5 years

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Muro Festival, is a rock festival! Which invites newcomers, upcoming artists, veteran come-on-ers, and all hard song enthusiasts alike to celebrate. Named after Muro Kiyoto, who is the manager of a Shibuya concert venue. As an avid enforcer of music events he’s esteemed by many in the scene, so the event draws in people who are driven by the fuel of that pass. At least bands will comment “Muro fest is an adhesive (Arukara)” or “The number one trait of Murofes is that the performing bands have awesome strong connections even on the side, and that the essence of that friendship engulfs it (Wasure).“ or “Even if Murofest was hosted at a small park or a in the middle of the street or in Muro’s house or even in a public toilet, I would perform. I love Murofest (Mizuno Gii).”

Anyway the performances are full of power! Full of summer heat! Full of maudlinism to soar like Muninn! Full of a favorite: there’s Hitorie’s dead pan heartfelt bassist, ygarshy!

And you were able to watch it on a niconico livestream but...

IT’S ENDED NOW

I will preserve this post as a report.... Doubling as a source for various trivia.... I’m considering maybe if a fan makes a purchase of a Wasureranneyo album, or something of similar sentiment, and DM’s me a screenshot, I could share the recording... Even if you see this in a billion lightyears from now. Because sharing is caring, all around yeah!!!

You have to get niconico premium to watch it, which is only 540 yen. Nothing compared to the fest’s ticket fee of 10,000 yen (Plus airfare fee for us overseers). You can use foreign debit cards, or even Paypal… ! Much of the performances were locked up, only for Premium members originally even for those who were able to watch real-time, so there’s no regrets in seizing the now. Thumbs up. Live shows enhance a whole different essence, so more than listening to a J-rock playlist on Spotify I’d recommend taking a dive into this while you can!!

Not only can you upfront witness the air around their electric pickguards warp to their technique, you can see them hop and whomp and throwmp around! What chords they clench with their teeth, what lines they unleash from the pit of their lungs, what parts the band will huddle together for and what songs mean the world to them! Also the crowds reactions, I move when I see them move, in polysemy. If there’s any niche J-rock band names you’ve maybe been curious about, or just want to find some new indie J-rock, the artist line-up is here! LAMP ON TERREN: wowawawa’s best buddy ‘Dai-chan’ is in there… *Waves hand* TERREN were once scheduled for a joint live with perfect timing, so they brought a birthday cake for wowaka and they got friendly with Rie... or so they thought.. The next day SND was ready to beat the shit out of them on stage. But they’re all friendly now (I think)))) Arukara: They master the standard rock setup with wads of distortion, wah effects, while sometimes make instrumental songs with violin etc. even! They do podcasts! And they reinforce cats a lot. I recommend Chigirero. majiko: Village Man’s Store: Who are the band with bright red suits, bright firey songs, and bright red lips who kissed Shinoda that one time - In seriousness I could recommend them though, they’re sweet with only a little taste of the sleazy! KAKASHI are rejoiced by quite a few Hitorie fans I know. There’s CIVILIAN: A three-piece whom all graduated from the Tokyo School of Music Shibuya, the bonds roam, who also hosts Nanou HoehoeP, another past utaite like majiko. LEGO BIG MORL: Sukippara ni Sake: Who are swanky with Kachāshī-like dances to the stretches of never making a boring song. And so so many more! J-rock band names start to make more less sense the more I’m in here! Wahoo! A band named Hitorie performed two years ago, and there’s LEGO BIG MORL this year, which is hoisted up by the same manager as Hitorie, Mika Arara! The members separately will some participate in cooking shows(), some each do acoustic shows on their own accord, each ego-search, and their stoic songs together are bound to at least make your foot tap from their flavored textures. For this sake I’m eyeing up the band’s particularly memorable whiz named Hiroki Tanaka. Hiroki is not most notable for his #My ygarshy hashtag, but for the sake of this he is. Under the tag is either Hiroki posting a picture of him together with ygarshy or him commenting #My ygarshy on pictures ygarshy of himself with others. Or the “What? Are you a couple?” on ygarshy’s “It’s our 9th year anniversary” photo of him with SND… yg “Sorry.” In general ygarshy and Hiroki are friendly, they drink and vent together time to time.Also Hiroki and Shibata Takahiro, the character who comes in soon, have a unit called Takahiroki. Which is the two of them fused to make flurry, with only an acoustic guitar and a mic as their weapons even! Their concerts tend to break the norms of the non-flamboyant J-rock scene, as they screw around with their power with no real point, just a joint to a jollity! Where as many J-rock shows will use screens of music visualizers to engross, Takahiroki will use the crowd by galvanizing them raise their signature rainbow towels or make explosive call-outs towards the flames of reality. Where many will use subdued dance to party, Takahiroki will chit-chat about food and females as they swing their limbs like spinning amusement park rides or dress as bartenders and drink . Though all rock shows are have their unique tricks and spirit, it’s nice to see it super shaken up also… I introduce these two for good reason! It’s background for what’s feautured in the niconico livestream! The band Wasureranneyo! That Shibata is on vocals and guitar, that Hiroki is on main guitar, our ygarshy is on bass, and Takayuki Tomita is on drums! Tomita is from a band called THE LOVE NINGEN, whom I’m not sure how came into relation with Shibata, but Wasurerannee yo is constantly borrowing members to fill it’s blanks due to . ygarshy has been consistent for more than half a year now! Hiroki also bounces in whenever he can an ex. Wasurerannee yo member once filled in for Love Ningen. They themselves most likely meet at festivals like this! Where similar bands get together under a sonic medium and spend the crepuscle ball. But I’m going back to ygarshy! Him! His performance is a spotlight!

the important part THE SHOW highlights

Wasureraneeyo start at 1:27:28, end at 1:58:39. You can manually copy-paste, and it’s a whole 30 minutes action-packed. There's about 48 hours before a the single watch instance will expire, but it's possible to close the window and come back anytime between then.

The first 5+ minutes are rehearsal, they’re muted to give the live-goers an extra extra incentive. It’s still worth a peak to see how musicians will stroll as they test. They played their theme song and also a cover of Alexandros’ Wataridori there’s nothing worth hearing anyway right (*wails).

The rest is 100% worth the buck! ●Shibata starts off by whimpering over an urge he needs to burst out, he needs everybody to cheer him on. When he Says “Miyamoto - Ryou!”, you have to shout “You can do it!” Note: Miyamoto and Ryou are a comedian duo, who just days ago were revealed to the victims of a corrupted corporation, who was holding absolute control over them. People have cheering for them to win better circumstances in the case. Yet the apologies and the press conferences have been fantasy football battles.... Ugh... It's a riot for sure though! Official news reports are here or here or etc. ●He gets everyone to wiggle their arms 90° angles above their heads “like we’ve gone crazy!” and shout a nonsensical “Yossoi hoi hoi!” chant! With the heat as the beat! yga just plays bass! ●He makes noise for his mom, multiple times throughout! His T-shirt even has his mom on it! Specifically a picture of 2 year old himself being embraced by his mother printed on it, with the word “Mother” metallically written on the back… Source from his past diary entry of him expressing his maternal love. I can’t believe this ygarshy no wonder you can’t help but smile a lot during these shows. ●He complains about the shitty time he “went out drinking when he two cute girls walked through the door in, ‘Oh, oh, oh!’ he thought, only for them to start chit-chatting about how small their boyfriend’s dicks are! What kind of damnation is this bullshit!” ●The lyrics are about that stuff anyway!! ●There’s also a special appearance from Kanata Takehiro, the vocalist of LEGO BIG MORL. Shibata bitches at him mid-solo because “Fuck you! All the girls are staring at you now damn it!” *He is actually popular in the band due to being good and cooking and math and being an overall goofball behind the gallantries. The original of Odore Hikikomori features Hiroki and Sekihan, of Happy Head NANIYORI also he was in the niconico scene a long time ago, both dressed in clothes that you may find very unlikely but 100% plausible. ●ygarshy smiles and then recalibrates his hair over his eyes to look like a dark souls boss faceless again. He holds his bass with the neck upwards, he’s reviving his high school orchestra club bass playing sensibility. Virtuoso. The high tempo of Wasureraneeyo’s songs is definitely on par with Hitorie’s, Rie's irregular metres, swapping, interchanging and 456 metres are monstrous, but the sheer volume of tutti and strumming in Wasure’s punk songs seems to be something else as well…! yganbare!! ●Also don’t worry about those missed minutes because Shibata crowd-surfs again. This time with cash in his hand a mission! Saying “I’m glad to be here! Take me to the cute beer darling!”, as he is driven by the hands of the compliantly ecstatic crowd towards a staff member waiting in the middle of the crowd, holding up your average beer! Shibata trades the cash for the cup, he orders everyone to gather under him, “I can’t stand up if you’re pushing my ass! Oh now I can thank you”, and at last he gains the support to stand up! On top of a crowd for God's sake he rises. To glug the beer like a food chain top predator of the wild. Then to slide back to stage while crying for his mom again.

●Hiroki physically shoves ygarshy around while they have the stage to themselves. Ahh how the tables turn, the kicker to the pushee. ●In his black robes ygarshy is just such a trance to witness play throughout… It’s really great in motion and as a whole I love dirty rock concerts. Music has to be heard, my lumberous lumpy text can’t convey those sound waves… So give it a watch if you may have free time to do so! Only if you can please! Source for comments and some info: https://skream.jp/feature/2019/06/muro_festival_2019.php More photos and videos can be found on their official twitter! Photos by Suzuki Kouhei woah...

#Watching the scene change from day to night was cool I want to go #The other bands are interesting enough they all deserve to be highlighted but my favoritism keeps me sticking here #ヒトリエ #ygarshy #hitorie

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niafrazier · 5 years

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I don’t want Bernie Sanders to run in 2020.

Let me explain why.

First, let me start off by saying, I was a Bernie backer in the 2016 primaries (although I was not quite old enough to vote at the time... I turned 18 later that year and was able to vote Clinton in the general though). I have great respect for his efforts to fight for the needs of the working class, and I am glad that his policies, once seen as obscure, are becoming more mainstream in the democratic party.

However,

It is clear to me that there are still many unhealed wounds from 2016 that are already bleeding over to the 2020 primaries/ election season. No prominent potential candidate has announced (edit: before Dec 30, 2018, when I wrote this post), yet I am seeing tons of infighting amongst Clinton and Bernie Dems. The extreme left of the party has been adamant on smearing literally every candidate that’s not Bernie. Most recently, many die-hard Bernie supporters have been targeting Beto O’Rourke who recently catapulted into the democratic spotlight after running an inspiring senate race in Texas against Ted Cruz. Now, don’t get me wrong, every candidate should be vetted (because that’s what primaries are for), but what I’ve been seeing is a shit ton of things being taken out of context to the point where it’s just become outright bullshit propaganda. For example, they label Beto as a “corporate Big Oil shill” for taking in donations from fossil fuel companies while also failing to point out that he did not take a cent of PAC money and that the money came from individuals who either are directly employed or have relatives under that sector, not the actual corporations.... He’s a Rep in Texas.... a state that has an enormous economy in that field, so it makes sense. (I could give more, but this text post is already getting as long as it is.). I know I’m probably talking about a small percentage of Bernie supporters, and a lot are merely just examining/ critiquing voting records, but it isn’t helping that now pundits, news outlets, and channels are perpetuating this nonsense, blowing social media beef out of proportion, which only incites more rage amongst his base.

And this is just the beginning. Mind you, 2019 has barely started.

I hate to admit it... as much as I admire Bernie, although he has relatively high favorability ratings amongst Democrats, I fear that he is becoming a divisive figure for the party. This will only intensify once primary season truly kicks into full gear. People still reeling over the results of Hillary’s defeat don’t want anything to do with Bernie (even proclaiming a #NeverBernie hashtag... hypocritical I might add b/c it’s basically the equivalent to #Bernie-or-Bust if he were to become the nominee but whatever). Then, extreme Bernie supporters are alienating those who may be in support of potential candidates like Beto, Kamala, Cory, Biden, etc. with ridiculous purity tests, and they immediately become excessively dismissive of those not 100% on board with Bernie’s bold ideas (or those who may favor a more pragmatic approach to these ideas).

We need to cut the bullshit now.

The number one goal for Democrats should be ousting Trump. A fractured party is only going to give ammunition to the GOP, and we really don’t have time for that. Things are only going to get worse between the two factions of the party if we are constantly replaying 2016. I wouldn’t want Hillary running either for that very reason, but she has shown no indication or interest in pursuing a campaign. IMO, the best thing for Bernie (and for the Dems) would be for him to lay low, endorse whichever candidate best aligns with his visions, and just let the primaries play out.

But hey, I’m just hoping social media isn’t representative of the true reality of the democratic party... Because for all I know, the average American probably isn’t paying any mind to the nonsensical bickering taking place online. But I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit my concerns about what impact a Bernie run could have on the state of the 2020 race. There were several factors that contributed to Trump’s victory in 2016, but this time, there need not be any room for error.

For my own sanity, I’d just rather have Bernie sit this one out.

#election 2020 #beto o'rourke #bernie sanders #elizabeth warren #kamala harris #cory booker #democrats #joe biden

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getoutofthisplace · 6 years

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Dear Gus,

As always, I was humbled by the number of happy birthday wishes I got on Facebook. I’ve made a tradition of sharing with everyone a detailed account of how I spent my birthday. Here’s what I told them about today:

It started around 3am, when I woke up with a piercing headache. I rolled around until I found a position on the pillow that somewhat alleviated the pain, I convinced myself I didn’t have brain cancer, then I fell back asleep until I heard Gus quietly crying in the next room around 5. I walked by the light of my phone screen from our bed to Gus’s room. When I opened the door, he pushed himself up and looked at me from his crib—he’s a stomach sleeper, like me. I closed his louvered closet doors some so the light wouldn’t be blinding, and I reached in to pull the string so I could see well enough to change his diaper. He stopped crying when I leaned over the crib rail and picked him up. Holding him against my chest in the middle of the night is always a reminder that I have the power to calm him with nothing but my presence and love—a power so raw and wonderful that I don’t understand how any parent ever takes it for granted. Gus cried again when I placed him on his changing table, but I quickly put a pacifier in his mouth, which stopped the crying and allowed me to switch his wet diaper out for a dry one. I put him back on my chest and walked him over to the closet, where I again pulled the light string, but I didn’t rush to place him back in his crib. I walked slowly, stepping side to side trying to rock him back to sleep while his trusty owl nightlight on the table emitted a constant stream of white noise. But even after he fell asleep I didn’t want to put him back down because he felt too precious in my arms to abandon for even a moment. But I did put him down, and he complained sleepily, but then fell asleep again.

I used my phone to light the path to the bathroom, where I stepped naked onto that unforgivable bastard of a scale, which read 195.2 pounds, up a little from Sunday morning because I gorged myself on corn casserole and cherry pie at my grandmother’s house in honor of my family’s plethora of January birthdays. I showered, spending more time than usual letting hot water run over my head because it made me forget about the headache, and I dried off in the dark so my eyes could adjust well when I tiptoed back through our bedroom without waking Liz up. However, when I opened the bathroom door and came into the room, I heard her whisper “Happy birthday” from our bed in the darkness. I felt my way to the side of the bed, then sat. I leaned down and began making kissing noises, which she reciprocated—it’s a game of “Marco Polo” we developed long ago to find each other’s lips when it was too dark to see them—until our lips met. “I hope you have a great day,” she said, before I tiptoed out of the bedroom and into the hall bathroom, where I got dressed and brushed my teeth. I let Suki out into the backyard to pee, put food in her bowl. I let her back in, grabbed my backpack, then went out to my truck.

At the office by 6:30am, I got the parking spot closest to the door, but there were a few cars scattered in the lot. I saw the light on in the gym and wished I had the discipline to develop a regular exercise routine. When I got close enough, I could see Jordan Culver in there like a champion with his headphones in his ears and a kettle bell in his hands. A few minutes after I got to my desk, my sister showed up at my cubicle in workout gear. “I have breakfast for you, but you can’t have it until after I get done in the gym.” “Oooo…” I said. Sometimes my brother-in-law makes breakfast for her and makes enough for me, too. I assumed that was the case. Around 8am, my headache intensified, which reminded me of the promise I made to Liz to call the doctor. I set up an appointment for 1:30. At 8.30, my coworkers gathered in a conference room around a breakfast casserole Chris Nick made and some fruit and they sang happy birthday to me while I wore the designated birthday sombrero and I assured them that—despite the #40andfabulous hashtag Liz used in the Instagram post she made that morning about me—I am not 40 yet.

I worked at my desk until noon, when I drove to Boulevard Bread for lunch. When I got there, I found Clayton Scott Grubbs and Ryan Hitt behind the counter making sandwiches. I asked Ryan what the special was, but he said there wasn’t one. “The first rule of business is to always have a special,” I said in a mock corporate tone the two of us used when we worked together back in 2010 at the now-defunct House Restaurant. I ordered a smoked turkey sandwich and some Zapp’s chips, then sat down until Joshua Asante came over to say hello. He asked me what I’m up to and I told him I was meeting the woman who just walked in. Hilary Trudell runs a storytelling show called The Yarn. We agreed to have lunch because I’m trying to back out of participating in her January 22 show because I don’t think I can tell my story in a compelling way within the allotted time. The show’s theme is “Adoption Stories” and I have a good one about how Lance Lang is my blood, but was adopted by another family at birth, then he sent me an email 52 years later because 23andMe.com said we share some DNA and now he’s family again. Hilary said she really likes the story and she gave me some ideas on how to approach it with brevity. Then we talked about Argenta Reading Series and how she and I are both trying to navigate the waters of nonprofits when neither of us knows anything about it, but we’re both committed to our causes. I promised her I will do my best to get my story where it can be told from her stage, and I’m 50% sure I can make it happen. I want to, and not being able to see the finished product in my head, which aches, so close to the date of the show disappoints me. It makes me feel inadequate as a writer. Like maybe all I’m good at is unnecessarily documenting things—like an entire day—and posting that exhaustive documentation to social media in the hopes of approval from a group of friends and acquaintances who might see it, based solely on some kind of bullshit algorithm that I used to feel I had a grasp of, but now I don’t know.

I drove to North Hills Family Medical Center, watched some sort of house-hunting show on HGTV in the waiting room for 40 minutes while I waited on someone to open a door and call my name, which finally happened. A nice woman in a surgical mask recorded that the scale she put me on read 204 lbs. “The boots,” I told her. She chuckled, and walked me to an exam room, where she declared my blood pressure is great. I told her about how I’ve had a headache since January 1. How the intensity of it comes and goes. The doctor told me a CT scan would be the course of action, but it’s probably just allergy-related, so a scan probably isn’t necessary. “I should tell you my father died of brain cancer in March,” I say. The doctor tried not to react, but his stumbling over words gave him away. “Just to be safe, let’s go ahead and do a CT scan.” And I could feel the pressure of my headache consuming me in that moment as I was reminded of all the doctors’ offices I sat in with my father in those three and a half years that it took him to die.

“If you aren’t in a hurry, he wants you to sit tight while we go ahead and get approval from your insurance to do the CT scan so we can get this going as quickly as possible,” the nurse told me. The urgency. I sat in the exam room and thought about how cruel life is and how I’m already aware that I should’ve met Liz and had Gus a decade ago so I could’ve spent more time on this earth with them as a family. I will be 71 when Gus is my age. To take my mind off of the fact that I may need to gear up for a fight against a brain tumor, I picked up the copy of WebMD Magazine on the table beside me. (How do you have a print magazine when your whole schtick is that you are on the web?) I skimmed it carefully when I read how broccoli might break-down cancer cells. I love broccoli. I should eat more broccoli, I told myself. And then I questioned why in the hell I would be eating turkey sandwiches for lunch when I am smart enough to understand the detrimental effects deli meat has on my body, not to mention the turkey’s. I committed silently to eating nothing but fruits and vegetables and beans and whatever else Clayton Bell's Facebook posts tell me to.

When the nurse came back, she told me the doctor changed his mind about calling me with the results of the CT scan, which will be Tuesday at 2.15pm. Now he wants me to come in on Wednesday so he can go over the results with me personally. It occurred to me that he’s taking the necessary steps to deliver bad news.

Liz wanted me to call her on my way back to the office, so I did. I told her the headache is probably nothing, and she agreed that it’s probably nothing. But she registered my fears through the phone because she picks up on the nuances of my behavior that I am unaware of. It’s a wonderful thing to share this life with someone who loves you enough to notice the subtleties of your voice.

Back at work, my coworkers asked me if I felt better. I can’t remember if I told them about my headache or they deduced that I wasn’t feeling well because I went to the doctor. Either way, I said, “Not really.” The left side of my head pulsated. Around 4:45, Laura messaged to ask me when I was leaving work. She had a gift she wanted to give me before I left. I walked to her office and pulled a box from a bag. Inside was a framed Kodak newspaper ad from way back. “I saw this at an antique store and it made me think of you and Liz.” It’s a black and white photo of a man and woman on snow skis. The man is looking into an old camera and the woman is grinning playfully beside him. It looks like an old-fashioned mirror selfie. “Kodak as you go,” the copy reads. I pulled a card from the box. Inside the envelope I saw Laura’s handwriting on folded up notebook paper. “I wrote some thoughts down on paper when you were in Arizona, I think. August 2016, I think. Dad was sick and you were gone and I know I’ll never do anything with them, but I thought you might like to have them.” I read the small pages. A rare glimpse into my always-professional sister’s emotions. She is my father reincarnate. The note says how she remembers us going to take family portraits in the early 90s, when Dad was preparing to run for the Arkansas House of Representatives. She remembers the man being there that served as Dad’s campaign manager and how she knew from that point on that she wanted to do marketing in some capacity. She and I have never talked about that time, but I tell her, “I think about that guy a lot, too, and what his job was,” but I never thought about the influence he had on my own desire to work in marketing. He was such a minor character in our lives—he had nothing more than a cameo—but then there Laura and I were, sitting in the office where we both do marketing, trying to remember his name. Only now that I write this the next day do I actually remember it. Chuck Hicks.

At home, I found Liz and Gus and Suki on the couch. My head hurt. “Gus is exhausted, I think we can put him down early,” Liz told me. So I took him back to his room, changed his diaper, put him in his pajamas. I turned on the space heater we have in his room, then handed him to Liz, who would feed him in the rocking chair after I turned out the lamp and went outside to throw the tennis ball with Suki until I could see Liz through the window in the kitchen, starting dinner. She bought things to make pad thai for my birthday dinner. I love Asian noodles. While she cooked, we traded stories about what happened during the day. “Oh, God. Were you able to contain yourself?” Liz asked me when I told her about talking to Joshua Asante at Boulevard. I’ve always admired his commitment to his art, and when Liz and I first started dating, I mentioned that I was possibly too intimidated to even talk to him. Now she always ribs me about it. But once she’d had her fill, we agreed that we should go to the gallery opening for his and Matt White’s photography at the CALS bookstore Friday. We decide we can just bring Gus with us. That some art will do him good. And then my head started hurting again, so I sat on the couch and rested my skull against the back of the sofa. After a couple of minutes, Suki pressed her nose against my hand, so I reached down to pet her. I touched dirt on her leg. “How much time do I have until dinner?” I asked Liz. “25-30 minutes,” she said, cutting tofu. “I’m going to give Suki a bath.” I picked all 45 pounds of her up and carried her to the hall bathroom where we have an outdated whirlpool (that I like but Liz says it has to go). I stripped down and got in the tub with Suki. I stood her up under the faucet and shampooed her. She hates baths. When I let her out, she got crazy, as she always does, running around the house spastically, and I tried to rush her into the back yard before she woke Gus up. I closed the patio door behind her and rinsed off in the shower. When I got out and dried off, Liz and I ate pad thai on the sofa while watching The Wire and she said, “I’m sorry the pad thai didn’t turn out better.” She always apologizes that her meals aren’t better, but they’re delicious 95% of the time. I’ve always loved her cooking and I always will. She doesn’t follow recipes.

We were in bed by 9pm, tired, but happy. When my headache surged again, I placed a helpless hand on my head the way my father used to and I tried not to think about it.

“It’s probably nothing, right?” I said.

“It’s probably nothing,” she said.

Dad

North Little Rock, Arkansas. 1.8.2018 - 8.24am.

UPDATE: The CT scan was clear. Turns out I have tension headaches caused by stress. The doctor recommended muscle relaxers and a massage.

#guy choate #alan watson #birthday #fireworks #sobrero #happy birthday #cancer #headaches #documentation #36

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oliveratlanta · 5 years

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The Hollywood-DeKalb County land swap debate has reached blockbuster proportions

Southeast of downtown, Blackhall’s studio space today rivals Tyler Perry Studios for the title of second largest in Georgia. Intrenchment Creek is pictured at bottom right. | Photo courtesy of Blackhall Studios

Blackhall Studios is booming and ready to expand, but preservationists fear plans for Atlanta’s greatest urban green space are at stake

They call Pat Culp “the cheerleader” down here. She’s president of the Cedar Grove Neighborhood Association, and for 30 years she’s lived in a section of southwest DeKalb County where tourists don’t venture, unless they’ve gotten lost trying to find East Atlanta Village, just three miles north.

On a recent afternoon Culp says something that could make other underserved, traditionally black communities around ITP Atlanta shudder with gentrification fears: “We’ve been asking for redevelopment for a lot of years, and it just has not come through. We need that growth. We need retail stores, and an open market to service us with fresh vegetables, sandwiches, that kind of thing. And we need residents moving to our area—new housing. It’s not here like it needs to be for young professionals.” Another evangelist for the area, Ingrid Buxbaum, a longtime home renovator in nearby Starlight Heights, puts it like this: “I still can’t believe the rest of the world has not yet discovered us.”

Culp, Buxbaum, and their allies look toward a relatively new neighbor—Blackhall Studios, with its sprawling, high-security campus where Tom Hardy’s Venom and the latest Godzilla incarnation were filmed—not as the area’s savior, but as the vehicle for finally getting on the map. They’re backers of a studio expansion campaign called the Great Park Connection—a reference to new public green space the Hollywood contingent has promised to create in exchange for land owned by the county.

But it wouldn’t be a plot without conflict.

The friction comes via a dueling campaign: Stop the Swap. That’s a reference to three parcels of nearby land Blackhall owns and wants to trade with the county for the aforementioned piece of Intrenchment Creek Park, a woodsy, 127-acre public green space. No financial transactions. No tax incentives. Just land.

Exact acreage numbers are debated, but the deal goes that Blackhall would be giving up roughly 53 acres and getting back less from the county: a 48-acre piece that’s closer to the existing studios, allowing expansions to be more seamless. But what sounds like a straightforward exchange has raised complex questions of fairness and ethics.

Among the swap’s opposition leaders is Joe Peery, an East Atlanta resident and outdoor enthusiast who happens to be an animation director for TV and film. He knows the two land areas in question. He loves the connection with nature the existing park provides. And he doesn’t pull punches.

The existing Intrenchment Creek Park and trails today.

“It’s a bad deal, no matter how you look at it,” says Peery. “I’ve been hiking and biking and building trails in the land for years. So I know when people are bullshitting. I can take you over there, and there’s no way you’ll agree these properties are of equal value.”

Facets of the monthslong drama over the swap—value disputes, proud tree-huggers, protest graffiti and yard signs, lawsuit threats, architect testimonials, dueling petitions, hashtag campaigns, allegations of misleading propaganda and media spin, and racial and socioeconomic differences—could lend themselves to at least one Blackhall production.

It’s a unique case of neighborhoods aligning with Hollywood to push forward a real estate deal—and of a metro Atlanta studio facing substantial backlash in a growing, if threatened, industry valued at $9.5 billion statewide last year. (The record 455 movie and TV productions filmed in the Peach State in fiscal 2018 equated to $2.7 billion in Georgia cash registers, per the governor’s office.) And what happens here could be of huge importance to Atlantans at large as the city evolves.

Just ask Ryan Gravel, the architect who invented the Atlanta Beltline concept and has studied the area in collaboration with the Nature Conservancy, a leading environmental organization. Intrenchment Creek Park, says Gravel, is a critical component of a larger proposed green space identified as the “South River Park” in the Atlanta City Design plan.

“It could be 3,500 acres—bigger than Stone Mountain Park,” says Gravel. “It’s the last chance for metro Atlanta to have a massive urban green space inside [Interstate] 285.”

At stake for the other side, the swap’s supporters say, is the potential for a TV and film studio complex that dwarfs almost all others around Atlanta—and the opportunity for neighbors to be lifted up by their proximity to it.

A visit to Intrenchment Creek Park presents a striking dichotomy.

One minute you see a massive, closed landfill, a wastewater treatment plant, and the infrastructural bones of a failed subdivision; the next brings a creek full of rocky shoals, well-kept older ranch homes on big lots, and serene woods where herds of deer roam within Atlanta’s 285 Perimeter. Enter the park itself, and a six-mile PATH Trail wends through soothing, silent woods—where trail-markers and welcome signs are Swiss-cheesed by bullet holes.

Josh Green

Bullet-ridden park signage.

“I’ve hiked the trails several times as part of this process, and they are scary,” says Buxbaum. “I would not hike them alone.” (The opposition would contend the most menacing thing in the woods might be a wayward Disney executive.)

But in this paradoxical, tucked-away setting, Ryan Millsap, a native Los Angeleno and real estate mogul, saw potential for his big break in the movie-making business a few years ago.

After Wall Street collapsed in 2008, Millsap bought about 8,000 apartments across the Southeast, roughly half of them in metro Atlanta. The same year Lehman Brothers filed for bankruptcy, Georgia lawmakers approved juicy TV and film tax credits for productions made here. Soon, the Hollywood of the South—alternately: Y’allywood—was rolling, and Tyler Perry’s Madea was joined by everything from Walking Dead zombies and dystopian Hunger Games sets to Magic Mike male strippers.

Atlanta now competes with five TV and film production powerhouses across the English-speaking world: New York City, Toronto, Vancouver, London, and Los Angeles, the latter being the only hub with more soundstages. Georgia has as many soundstages as New York and all of Canada combined. And in Millsap’s estimation, the state was on the cusp of developing a brand identity and reputation in Hollywood comparable to California’s prior to passage in May of the controversial “heartbeat bill,” among the country’s most restrictive abortion laws. (Legal fights are expected before the law would be implemented in January; Millsap says he thinks of the turbulence as temporary.)

Millsap, who grew up with friends in the film industry, moved here in 2014 with plans for a specialty real estate project. A movie studio, he reasoned, would be akin to something like a medical-office development. “I’m no surgeon,” says Millsap, “but I could build a hospital in a way that surgeons would love.”

Blackhall Studios—named for a street near the University of Oxford, where Millsap once studied philosophy—opened on the site of a former paint distribution warehouse in April 2017. It’s a walled-off campus with nine soundstages just south of the Starlight Drive-In Theatre, an easy eight miles from the world’s busiest airport. And it didn’t take long before the real estate axiom about location proved accurate.

Blackhall was smaller than Pinewood Studios in Fayetteville but more central; actors and crew could jet off to lunch in Inman Park in 15 minutes. It’s more open to outside productions than Tyler Perry Studios, triple the size of Third Rail Studios in Doraville, and more versatile than a mixed-use development with studio components like Pratt-Pullman Yard’s planned revival. It’s for those reasons, says Millsap, that Blackhall’s entire facility is booked through next July—and expansion is crucial.

“When people come to town, we’re definitely the number-one studio in the state from a desirability standpoint,” he says. “We get the first crack at all the big stuff. And our competitors are getting a shot if we’re full.”

Josh Green

A secured studio entrance on Constitution Road.

Right now, between soundstages, offices, and industrial sections used for building sets, Blackhall counts about 850,000 square feet under its roofs. The proposed expansion would nearly double that footprint, making the studios larger than the built-out spaces of the Braves’s SunTrust Park and Hawks’s State Farm Arena combined.

“Once we’re finished with our second phase,” Millsap notes, “we’ll not only be the largest by soundstage space in Georgia, but in North America—and one of the largest in the world.”

Millsap was all set to break ground on that second phase last year, planning to convert the three parcels he already owns. From the current studio entrance, they’re maybe a two-minute drive up Bouldercrest Road, on the other side of Constitution Road, an industrial east-west corridor.

But then he met a local architect with a big idea.

A longtime Atlanta landscape architect and planner, Jay Scott is the 66-year-old head of Green Rock Partners, a firm with offices in Ponce City Market. About eight years ago, the self-proclaimed tree-hugger crafted an overlay district for the area around what’s now Blackhall Studios, a sort of roadmap for development that never came.

The process acquainted Scott with the area’s businesses and neighborhoods, and in Millsap’s initial plans, he was concerned that truck traffic would be channeled too close to a cove of existing homes, and that 50-foot-tall soundstages would tower over backyards. His idea was to instead create open parkland from Blackhall’s three undeveloped parcels, a “greenbelt buffer between industrial and residential areas.” Scott called for a deal with DeKalb County to carve studios and backlots into Intrenchment Creek Park across the road from Blackhall’s existing campus and snake the PATH Trail around them.

Courtesy of Blackhall Studios

The studio’s park proposal, with what supporters stress is improved accessibility to Bouldercrest Road and neighborhoods beyond.

It got him hired by Millsap as a consultant. And they took their proposal to county commissioners in mid-2018 with a cherry on top: Millsap and company would commit $3.8 million toward building new park amenities: picnic shelters, emergency call boxes, enhanced lighting, a second entrance, more parking, and possibly a boardwalk along the babbling creek. They’d also rebuild a runway for the remote-control plane and drone enthusiasts who constitute the park’s main patronage now.

Scott cites statistics from a county study that suggest his idea would boost 10-minute park walkability from 94 neighbors now to more than 1,500. But that’s not the most valuable aspect, as he sees it.

“This park along Bouldercrest [Road] is going to have a meadow similar in size to Piedmont Park, where people can have festivals, movie screenings [of films] shot next door, where kids can toss Frisbees,” Scott says. “There just is not a park like that in southwest DeKalb County right now.”

Culp, the neighborhood association leader, concurs: “We want a big, central green space.”

But Peery, the opposition spearhead, feels strongly that saving the land’s natural ecosystem should be paramount: “[Nearby] Gresham Park has cricket, ballfields, a pool, so there’s no lack of that,” he says. “What we need is forests, trees, water, lakes. That’s where people are spending money—they want to be near that.”

By November, the swap appeared imminent, if quietly so. DeKalb County CEO Mike Thurmond’s office wrote to the Arthur M. Blank Foundation, which oversees part of the park following a 2003 agreement with the Trust for Public Land, that the proposed swap had the makings of a “win-win” and would move forward.

It wasn’t until January that Peery and his East Atlanta cohorts were made aware that almost half of their beloved woods could become huge, fenced-off sheds and backlots for Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson movies.

A leader of the park’s RC airfield called Peery to inform him “the studios are taking over,” and Peery was confused, alarmed, and angry. He promised a grassroots campaign that would “bring it to the surface, show everyone what’s happening, and get people fired up.”

Thus, #StoptheSwap was born.

Peery arranged a meeting to discuss a compromise with Millsap at Intrenchment Creek Park last winter. He struggles to suppress laughter in recalling how the studio head arrived near the entrance’s little gazebo and bullet-ridden signage in a stretch limo. What is this, thought Peery, a movie premiere?

As became immediately clear, there’s a fundamental difference in how both sides see the big picture.

DeKalb County owns nearly 1,000 acres of contiguous green space in the area, straddling I-285. That includes Gresham Woods (beside the Gresham Park neighborhood), Intrenchment Creek Park, Sugar Creek Golf Course, Constitution Lakes (home to the otherworldly Doll’s Head Trail), and vast swaths of virgin forest.

via DeKalb County presentation

A general overview of the proposed swap and broader connections of existing green space in the immediate area. Blackhall’s existing campus and ancillary studio properties are shown in dark pink; the undeveloped land it owns is light green.

The pro-swap regiment believes that building a park with the more northern land Blackhall owns—part of it the chewed-up turf of a failed subdivision—would help create an uninterrupted, park-like setting from Constitution Lakes all the way up to East Atlanta. One day, paved trails could weave through it, connecting the area to intown job centers without more streets.

“The plusses here are huge,” says Amanda Brown-Olmstead, part of a PR team hired by Blackhall Studios to promote The Great Park Connection concept. “It’s a time where quality of life, and nature, and recreation come in balance with economic development, and we can make these things work together.”

Conservationists, meanwhile, view the swap proposal as highly unusual and possibly illegal, in that the land was meant to be permanently protected, per earlier deals. Instead of building a bridge between existing parks and forests, they say, the massive studio complex and clear-cutting it would require are tantamount to a roadblock that threatens biodiversity, endangering a rich habitat of fauna, from amphibians to turkeys, foxes, and large deer. “And the precedent of this swap would put all public parks in DeKalb at risk,” says Margaret Brady, a Stop the Swap ally of Peery’s.

“The only thing that would interrupt that contiguous greenspace is [the studio] development” in the park, adds Peery, “and that’s what pisses me off.”

Scott, the architect, sees it differently: “The idea that this 48 acres [of existing parkland] is somehow sacred to this entire 1,000 acres is kind of absurd to me.”

Also at stake is a future Beltline connection, as the existing PATH could eventually be extended northwest to link with the Beltline’s Southside Trail. (Pro-swappers say that PATH could simply be rerouted, at Blackhall’s expense.) The loss of mature trees in the forested park is another concern, a threat to sewer water and erosion control, but Scott argues that land the county would receive is dotted with big oaks, 30 to 50 inches in diameter, while most trees in Intrenchment Creek Park are “eight-inch pines or less—a very early-stage forest.”

Images courtesy of Rashawn Johnson

These materials, distributed by PATH at a Southside neighborhood meeting in May, illustrate how the system could connect Intrenchment Creek Park’s current PATH Trail to the Beltline’s Southside Trail.

What’s probably the biggest bone of contention, however, involves sheer value.

Swap detractors say the trade would give Blackhall about 20 additional acres of developable land that’s not in a floodplain, as with some land the studio owns now, worth about $2 million more that the studio’s current acreage. Not so, says Scott. He contends that appraisers hired by DeKalb determined the swap would mean a $515,000 net gain in land value for the county.

“It’s about an even trade,” Scott says, “in terms of the amount of open, cleared space and trees.”

In May, as swap-related tensions heated, Trust for Public Land officials insisted “a robust public conversation” was needed, and DeKalb commissioners Larry Johnson and Kathie Gannon convened what’s been the only community meeting devoted to the subject thus far at nearby McNair High School. It’s where one observer noticed a clear distinction along racial lines: Almost all swap naysayers where white, and supporters black.

Courtesy of Blackhall Studios

Swap opponents decry a neighborhood event held recently at Blackhall Studio as propaganda.

“The real shame of it is, [Blackhall reps are] pitting neighbor against neighbor, going into these really low-income areas and promising the moon,” Peery asserts. “Unfortunately, more recently, I feel like Blackhall has really amped up efforts in terms of propaganda, and they’re overstepping their bounds.”

The public relations push has spurred cheery news stories on TV and in print this summer (these pages included). One subject was cleanup efforts on Blackhall’s land that removed towering piles of illegally dumped tires, now set to be recycled as playground surfaces. What wasn’t mentioned, per Peery, is that Blackhall had allowed some 4,000 tires and trash to accumulate for months despite neighbor complaints. The edges of that property are now dotted with pro-swap yard signs, while a graffitist has left his “Stop the Swap” sentiment in red paint on the trail’s nearby concrete.

Josh Green

The tagline used by opponents of the land deal, in graffiti.

Josh Green

Pro-swap signs dot the area.

In June, Blackhall studio heads flung open the doors for the first time so neighbors could tour the facility, and some 250 turned out. “What I’m hearing, from neighborhoods, is that they’re so jacked up about this [swap],” Brown-Olmstead, the spokeswoman, said after the event. “They’re going door-to-door, to their neighbors, to their friends… there’s a real sense of pride.”

At the time, Culp said the shoe-leather campaign among neighborhood leaders had garnered 700 pro-swap signatures. “This is not something online, not a petition on Change.org,” she said. “And it’s not easy, I can tell you.”

“We beat that in two days,” said Peery, referring in June to his contingent’s Charge.org petition, versus the signature tally pro-swappers brought before commissioners. “Currently we’re over 2,500.”

Ammunition for pro-swappers came last month when Katerina Taylor, DeKalb Chamber of Commerce president and CEO, and Emory Morsberger, South Metro CID president, announced support for the Great Park Connection “movement.”

The land exchange would “serve as a major economic development initiative,” said Taylor, while Morsberger called Millsap “the kind of business leader we’re looking for” in the same press release.

The opposition’s own heavyweight, Beltline visionary Gravel, takes a longer view, calling swap plans “a short-sighted vision for a part of the county that’s poised for rapid change and growth over the next 20 years.”

Exactly when a victor might be declared in this protracted drama isn’t clear.

DeKalb County spokesman Andrew L. Cauthen III said Blackhall’s proposal is being vetted by county legal staff, the chief operating officer’s office, and other departments to weigh operational and legal issues and conduct environmental studies. Following all those assessments, a recommendation will be sent up to Thurmond, who could ask for more studies, reject it outright, or give the swap his blessing. The final decision will be made in a public board of commissioners meeting.

When asked to estimate how long the process might take, Cauthen replied via email: “It’s not really possible.”

It’s a safe bet the studios will expand, one way or the other. While Millsap is moving forward with the construction of new studios in London and possibly others in Canada, he says Atlanta will remain home base. And he seems genuinely enthused when talking about creating synergy with a part of town that’s seeing an influx of capital.

“There’s going to be a whole bunch of kids who grow up in these neighborhoods who say, ‘I watch movies and televisions, that sounds cool, how are they made?’” says Millsap. “They start to realize that on every production, there’s 300 jobs. What you really want to be able to do is tie them into the Georgia Film Academy, and have the academy have a presence at McNair High School and [nearby] Perimeter College. If Disney’s here making movies, maybe smaller connections could be made, with directors visiting schools, maybe finding a student they like.”

On a busy day at the studios now, with all productions filming, Millsap says 1,000 highly paid workers are on-site (granted, most of them commute from elsewhere in Atlanta and beyond). He says their local spending on everything from lumber to tacos translates to between $500 million and $700 million annually, figures that would ostensibly swell if the studio space doubles.

Pro-swappers like to point to a nearby KFC that’s doubled its business since Blackhall moved in.

Peery, Gravel, and other swap adversaries are quick to call the studios an obvious boon, with growth projections that they applaud. But should the proposed land trade move forward, with a section of Intrenchment Creek Park to be lost, Peery says a lose-lose for taxpayers is inevitable, and that his group will sue on grounds, in part, that land deed restrictions were violated.

“We know a lot about what they want—we’re not being snowed here,” says Peery. “We want a big regional park, incorporating what’s there now, and we’ve been working on it for years. They come along in the past couple of years and decide they’re going to build our park for us, and that doesn’t work.”

Josh Green

The park’s main entrance today.

source https://atlanta.curbed.com/2019/8/15/18761677/blackhall-studios-atlanta-intrenchment-hollywood-land-swap-dekalb

#OliverAtlanta

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ladystylestores · 4 years

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Ex-Cop Advising On Riot Control Has Inflated Résumé

BuzzFeed News; Getty Images (2); Safeware via YouTube / Via youtube.com

The day before federal police officers gassed peaceful protesters to make way for a President Donald Trump photo op, Geoff Perrin posted a picture on Instagram of officers bearing riot shields and squaring off with a group of demonstrators.

Perrin was “at the White House,” where he “served as an adviser to the US Secret Service and US Park Police responsible for protecting the area,” his company announced, using the hashtags “#riotcontrol” and “#publicorder.” A second post showed a line of armored police vehicles. “We are just waiting for them to pull the pin,” Perrin wrote in the caption.

Perrin has trained police officers around the country. His website features Molotov cocktails, riot vans, and semiautomatic assault rifles. Muscular and tanned with a salt-and-pepper crew cut, Perrin dishes out wisdom in a clipped South London accent in YouTube instruction videos, including one where he explains how riot shields “could be used as a weapon as well if need be.”

Perrin’s teaching draws on martial arts, as well as American and British police tactics, the latter of which he has claimed to have learned during years as an elite instructor and “tactical adviser” for the UK’s Metropolitan Police Service.

But several of those claims are false. Perrin was never a “tactical adviser” and he did not teach the advanced instruction courses he said he taught. And four current and former officers say the methods he has been teaching US law enforcement are far more aggressive than anything advocated by the Met.

Perrin’s teachings are “self-made, unproven, and legally not defensible,” a British police training coordinator told BuzzFeed News on condition of anonymity. “The only reason why he’s got so far is because the US police are so far back in methodology and tactics therefore they believe his bullshit.”

In phone interviews, Perrin admitted that he has made erroneous and “misleading” claims about his experience. Less than an hour after the first phone call, Perrin’s biography on his company website was taken down.

Screenshot

Perrin’s bio on the Survival Edge website before he revised it.

Perrin also acknowledged that, contrary to the impression his social media has created, he has not been working as a formal “adviser” with the Secret Service or the Park Police during the George Floyd protests. He said he has previously trained officers from both agencies, and wanted to give them a “basic refresh” and to supply them with helmets and limbguards. “I am not going to watch officers get injured because they didn’t have any equipment,” Perrin said. He said he has not been paid for this work, and that he “did not write” the company announcement that described him as an adviser.

Neither the Secret Service nor the Park Police responded to repeated requests for comment about their relationship, if any, with Perrin. The Maryland State Police confirmed to BuzzFeed News that it has worked with him and said that he gave the department legitimate credentials for the job, which they verified with British police. Federal records show that his company has also won contracts with the Department of Defense.

Perrin said he left the UK for family reasons, and because he believes that higher-ups there don’t do enough to protect cops who are trying to subdue crowds. But he was also sharply critical of “dinosaur tactics” in US policing. Many police departments offer “no training for what these guys are facing,” Perrin said. “Because they’re so dumb, it is a constant battle to get them to see a different viewpoint other than use of force” when responding to protesters.

“They just say, ‘Geoff, this is how we do things in America,’” he said. “My team are quite excited about the fact that US is actually going to look at some reforms because it needs to happen.”

Perrin told BuzzFeed News that he is a “massive advocate” against the use of tear gas. Before officers in Washington cleared the protest to make way for Trump’s photo op in front of St. John’s church, Perrin said he had been “concerned” about how much tear gas officers had and pushed commanders to “use other tactics.”

He claimed the Secret Service and Park Police largely followed his advice, and he blamed “other agencies” — namely the DC Metropolitan Police — for its use. He also pointed out that there were other federal officers there that night who refused to identify themselves.

Both the Secret Service and the Park Police have acknowledged using chemical agents designed to produce tears.

Most of the officers on the ground had “honest intentions,” Perrin said, and were short on both staff and supplies. “The police did the best they could with the equipment and the personnel they had.”

Roberto Schmidt / Getty Images

Riot police confront protestors near the White House on June 1, 2020 as demonstrations against George Floyd’s death continue.

In 2001, violence erupted in the South London neighborhood of Brixton after an unarmed Black man named Derek Bennett was shot dead by the police. Metropolitan Police officers were accused of using excessive force to control the crowds.

Geoff Perrin was a medic with the force at the time, and an officer safety instructor in the London borough of Lewisham. He grew up in Brixton, and said the way police used to target his Black friends influenced his decision to join the force. “I wanted to see a change to policing,” he said.

But Perrin said he grew outraged at the way that police leadership responded to the 2001 unrest — he felt that rank-and-file officers were “thrown under the bus like sacrificial lambs.” Neither the Met and nor the UK’s Home Office responded to repeated requests for comment about Perrin’s time with British police.

In 2004, Perrin left the Met. Soon afterward he moved to the US. He claimed that his training methods had drastically reduced the number of officer injuries in Lewisham, and told BuzzFeed News he believed he might help police departments in the US do the same. In 2006, he helped start Survival Edge Tactical Solutions, based in Utah, with a fellow ex-cop, Jared Wihongi.

Once in the US, Perrin began winning contracts with American police forces to train them on crowd management and how to de-escalate tense situations, as well as on the use of protective gear.

Perrin also claimed during one phone interview that he spent a few years “teaching counterterrorism stuff for the FBI for their missions overseas.” The bio on his website listed work in numerous countries, including Cyprus, Germany, Croatia, Mongolia, Kenya, France, Canada, Singapore, and the Netherlands. The FBI did not respond to a request for comment.

His website says he has worked with a number of state and local departments, including the Utah Highway Patrol and Atlanta Police Department. Neither force responded to a request for comment.

While in Utah, Perrin was involved in the creation of a charity calendar featuring British bikini models firing guns, riding tanks, and posing with heavy artillery and soldiers in uniform. Two Utah police officers and several Utah National Guard members were suspended after a video of the “Hot Shots” shoot — featuring Perrin’s name in the credits — was posted on YouTube.

“There was nothing untoward, it was just way too racy for Utah,” Perrin said. But “it raised a hell of a lot of money for the help for heroes and special ops charities over here.”

That same year, he began working with the Maryland State Police, which was reviewing its own practices in the wake of mass unrest in Baltimore following the death of Freddie Gray. Thanks to his training, “we have updated our personal protective equipment to better protect our troopers and implemented tactics that enable us to end volatile situations quickly, while protecting the rights of peaceful protesters,” a spokesperson told BuzzFeed News.

It is unclear exactly when Perrin started overstating his credentials, but a Salt Lake Tribune article about the “Hot Shots” controversy refers to Perrin as a “tactical adviser.”

This is a phrase that holds serious meaning in UK policing circles — it reflects a specific job and elite training. To qualify for the job, an officer must pass a four-week course that is “generally regarded as the most physical course in the police,” a former public order instructor told BuzzFeed News. “It’s a very highly regarded role.”

Perrin used that term in the now-deleted bio on his website, and it is referenced in Facebook posts and in interviews. In an interview that Perrin did with an apparel company selling protective gear, an officer is photographed back to camera wearing a helmet plastered with a Union Jack sticker and the insignia “Tactical Advisor.”

Perrin also claimed to have been an elite instructor for the Met’s public order unit. Perrin acknowledged that he wasn’t as high-level an instructor as he put on his résumé, and that he didn’t work in the police’s central headquarters but at a local level, in the London borough of Lewisham.

“I’ll own it,” Perrin said of his résumé. “Yes, you know what, it was definitely fluffed up, and it’s being cleaned up 100%.”

Perrin told BuzzFeed News that he hadn’t used the statements in his bio to obtain any of his current contracts, because “Americans have not got the time for British policing,” so he has to win business by doing demonstrations.

“Nothing on that CV has helped me at all,” he said, “because they just go ‘What do you guys know about guns? What do you guys know about policing the type of violence we police here?’” Perrin insisted he got to where he is by hard work alone.

Screenshot via Instagram

Perrin train law enforcement officers

Perrin describes the methods behind his “hybrid” police-martial arts model in a number of videos online. In one posted in 2017, Perrin moves his arm in a punching motion to demonstrate how to “distance people.” Perrin says this is an effective “defensive” method if the officer doesn’t have a baton.

The move bears an eerie resemblance to one used by a Park Police officer on June 1 against an Australian news camera operator, which prompted an apology from the Park Police after Australia’s prime minister denounced the incident.

Perrin told BuzzFeed News that the officer used his elbow in a way that “we don’t teach.” For Perrin’s taste, the officer “would have to justify” his use of the technique. But he said the video doesn’t necessarily show the whole picture. “I can’t give you his perception or his fear of what happened,” he said. “I don’t know what happened before in that corner.”

“I can’t speak for what was going through his head at that period of time,” he added. “I don’t know how much sleep he had. If he’d done continued days of 16 hours extended tours, I just don’t know. Everyone has a different perception of fear.”

Perrin said his methods are all about reducing violence in riot control — by properly protecting officers. “You can’t expect them to stand out there and take projectiles,” he said. “Nobody wants to get hurt, and when an officer gets hurt, they can sometimes use more force than they may have intended.”

Three of the former and current British officers who spoke to BuzzFeed News said Perrin’s methods had little in common with what is taught in the UK, where officers rarely wear heavy-duty anti-riot equipment or military gear, and are taught to use force less frequently.

Perrin told BuzzFeed News the difference is intentional. He believes British police leaders don’t do enough to protect cops trying to subdue crowds, and that Americans often go too far. His “hybrid” approach is a balance between the two, he said.

Perrin believes that some of his former colleagues simply envy his success. “There’s a few people back home who are jealous that a South London boy who has come from pretty much nothing has done quite well for himself,” he said.

Perrin also pointed out that the mayhem in Washington on June 1 contrasted sharply with the work of his clients a short drive away in Maryland.

The Maryland State Police were called into action in Baltimore, where protests broke out soon after George Floyd’s death. According to multiple news reports, those protests unfolded more peacefully than they did in other cities.

The day before Trump’s walk to Lafayette Square, Perrin wrote about a double role — and dizzying schedule — on Instagram.

“From being down at the White House supporting our US Secret Service Level 1 team to then running with two Maryland State Police Level 1 teams to Baltimore. The teams did could [sic] crushed any problems in the City and Baltimore did not burn. Outstanding work and am safe and now in bed at 05.46.” In another post, he filmed Marine One carrying the president overhead. “Mr T coming home last night just before we got the call to go to Baltimore,” the caption read.

Perrin did not post anything about the events at Lafayette Square. And he has continued to post on social media, including from inside the White House, about working with the federal government.

On June 6, D-Day, Perrin posted a video saying he “was down at the White House training the White House personnel as in secret service” and that he had been invited to the map room to look at World War II maps. D-Day was a reminder of when “America showed everybody what they can do,” he said. ●

Screenshot

Perrin at the White House on June 6

John Templon contributed reporting.

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fantasyhorrorandotherthings · 4 years

Text

Teaser for ‘File 75′

Zara

New York, 2020

3–2–1

The camera started recording.

‘Hey, guys, welcome back to my channel.’ Zara Mathews stood in front of her kitchen bench wearing a pink sleeveless crop top and black stretch pants. The arctic white walls of her apartment and the lack of clutter would serve as ascetically pleasing to the potential thousands of people, perhaps a million if she were lucky, who would see her video. ‘Today, I’m going be making a pitaya smoothie bowl. If you don’t know what pitaya is, it’s basically dragon fruit that can be ground up into a fine pink powder. You’ve probably seen it all over Instagram,’ she laughed. ‘I feel like it’s a good alternative to an acai bowl. So, for this smoothie, I’m just going to be using the usual stuff—coconut milk, frozen banana and, of course, my favourite fruit and nut mix as a topping. So, let’s get started.’

She undid the blender.

‘Hey, babe.’

His dirty breath hit her neck. The smell of unwashed skin tormented her nostrils.

‘Up already, huh,’ she said as she gazed at the blender’s blades.

‘What are you up to?’ he asked gruffly as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

‘I’m trying to make a video,’ she sighed.

He kissed her neck. His lips against her skin were like a slimy tongue.

‘Another smoothie video?’ he said mockingly. ‘What was that grey one you made yesterday? Butterfly piss?’

She rolled her eyes.

‘Butterfly pea,’ she said as she poured frozen banana chunks into the blender. ‘P–e–a.’

She pushed away from him, causing him to smirk.

‘Babe, why do you got to be doing this now? he asked. ‘It’s so early.’

‘It’s nine,’ She frowned at him.

‘Exactly, it’s Saturday. What do you have to wake up so fricken early for?’

‘It’s better for your body to wake up at the same time every day.’

‘I think that’s just some bullshit you read on Pinterest,’ he said as he went over to the fridge and grabbed a slice of pizza from the previous night when the game was on.

She glared at him as his yellow teeth ripped into the crust and observed his unwashed brown hair, the dark purple bags under his eyes, the thick stubble on his neck and on his double chin, his flaky lips, the bits of breadcrumbs and sauce stains around his mouth, and the careless way he left his robe undone. She had curly black hair, creamy brown eyes and soft, dark skin that she always moisturised and exfoliated. She didn’t think that Brock even knew what exfoliating was. She went to the gym three or four times a week and Pilates once a week. Zara took pride in her appearance, so she wondered how she ended up with this.

‘Listen, are you coming tonight?’ she asked irritably.

‘What’s tonight?’

‘Jay’s birthday.’

‘Who?’

‘My brother?’

‘Oh yeah, that guy.’

She swore under her breath.

Around six in the evening, she found her family standing outside a burger grill. She smiled as soon as she saw them. Zara seldom ate burgers and deep-fried food, but as her mother had explained, this place sold healthy burgers, not to mention sweet potato fries.

Her mother, Deborah Mathews, a secretary at a middle school, wore a black jacket over a purple top with a gold chain necklace. She had straight black hair that she liked to keep short, a round face and the same brown eyes as Zara. She had a short, plump structure, while her husband, Jacob Mathews, a high school biology teacher, had a tall, thin build. He had dark eyes, shaved black hair, and wore a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt. The two of them had been married for almost twenty-six years and had raised their children in a flat in the Bronx, where they still lived.

Their son, Jay Mathews, a freelance fitness apparel designer, was wearing a pink T-shirt with blue denim jeans. He also stood tall with his head shaved but wore some light stubble and had the same eyes as his mother and sister. Next to him, standing slightly shorter, was his girlfriend, Courtney Blake, a personal trainer, who had shoulder-length brown hair and wore a blue top tucked into black denim jeans. The two of them had been dating for around two years, and although she didn’t see them much, Zara thought they were cute together and were what Zara’s co-workers would have described as ‘hashtag couple goals’.

‘Hey.’

They all turned around and their faces lit up as they simultaneously greeted her.

‘Happy birthday,’ she said as she went to hug her brother.

‘Aw, thanks,’ he said. ‘I haven’t seen you in ages.’

She noticed that her mother looked confused.

‘Where’s Brock?’

‘He couldn’t make it,’ she said. He was at home playing video games, but instead she told them, ‘He has work.’

Her mother frowned.

‘Should we go inside now?’ she asked.

‘Yeah, sure,’ Jay nodded.

They all walked into the restaurant, which looked more like an art studio with its wooden yet colourful interior. They found a large booth at the back with red padded seats and a pop art painting on the wall.

‘So, how are things in New Jersey?’ Zara asked once they had all taken a seat.

‘Ah, good,’ Jay nodded. ‘Well, actually, we have to something tell you.’

‘Oh, yes,’ she said, feeling a little nervous.

‘We’re engaged!’ they both said at the same time.

‘What! You’re getting married?’

They both nodded.

‘Oh, God, congratulations,’ she said, a little taken aback by the news. She remembered when they were children, they would ride their bikes around with their neighbour Randy Barton, along with his older sister, Billie. When they were a little older, the four of them would head down to the basketball court where Randy would practice shooting hoops while the other three would sit on the side lines and play Beyoncé on loudspeakers, infuriating the old people in the neighbourhood. And now her little brother was getting married? She wanted to be happy for them, but all she could think about was Brock sitting on his ass on the couch as he ripped apart a zombie on the PlayStation.

‘And that’s not all,’ he said. ‘We’re also having a baby.’

‘No way!’

It only seemed like yesterday when Jay was a baby.

‘That’s just … wonderful. I’m so happy for you. Now I have so many questions. When’s the wedding? When’s the due date?’

‘Well, we haven’t really set a date for the wedding,’ said Courtney. ‘But the baby’s due in January.’

‘Wow, that’s just …’ She turned to face her parents. ‘Did you know this?’

‘Yeah, we already knew.’ Her mother laughed.

‘Imagine if the kid comes early at Christmas,’ her father joked.

‘Yeah, things have been pretty hectic for us lately,’ said Courtney. ‘But what about you, Zara? How is your YouTube channel going?’

‘It’s going well,’ she said. ‘I’m up to nine thousand subscribers.’

‘Oh, wow. Getting there. You’ll be considered an influencer soon.’

‘Yeah, but I’m running out of ideas, though,’ she said. ‘Recently, they all seem to be about smoothies.’

‘Maybe you could do one of those decluttering videos,’ Courtney suggested.

‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure if there’s much to declutter, apart from Brock’s video game console.’

And Brock himself.

For dinner, everyone got sliders and sweet potato fries. As Zara was vegan, she ordered herself some avocado sliders. After everyone had finished, she got out her phone and took a selfie with Tray.

‘One for the gram,’ she laughed.

She hugged him tightly as the timer went down.

3–2–1

She then took another one with all five of them.

‘We should do this again soon,’ said Zara.

‘Definitely,’ said Jay.

‘And listen, next time Brock’s coming,’ Courtney smiled.

She scoffed. ‘I’ll try my best.’

As Jay and Courtney parted ways, Debbie pulled Zara to the side. She noticed the apprehensive look on her mother’s face.

‘Zara,’ she said softly. ‘Is everything okay with you and Brock?’

That had caught her off guard.

‘It’s … fine.’

‘Zara,’ her mother sighed.

‘He’s just … You don’t like him, do you?’

‘No, I don’t,’ Debbie said bluntly. ‘I never have. You said that he’s at work, but I didn’t even know he had a job.’

‘Well, he … he doesn’t,’ she sighed. ‘It was just easier to say that, instead of telling everyone that he’s on the PlayStation.’

Debbie shook her head in disgust.

‘Zara, he’s thirty years old and he’s playing video games,’ she said. ‘You’re such polar opposites.’

‘Well, what’s that old saying, opposites ...’

Her mother continued to frown.

‘Okay, look, maybe things are not going great, but—’

‘Zara, you’re putting all of this hard work in, and he’s just mooching off you,’ she said. ‘Now, I’m not saying that you need my approval, but I don’t think he makes you happy.’

She couldn’t argue with that.

When she arrived back at her apartment block, she looked up at the ninth floor of ten. She knew which window to look at. It was Apartment Number 5. She remembered falling in love with the place the first time she stepped foot in it. The white walls and wooden floors were the stuff of her Pinterest vision boards. Then she found herself thinking about what was in that apartment. A boring boyfriend who never wanted to do anything.

The very first thing I see, every morning, is his stupid face with bits of food on the corners of his mouth and his drool sliding on to the pillows that I bought.

Zara unlocked the door and switched the lights on as she walked in.

‘Brock?’

She thought that he would have been playing video games in the living room but he wasn’t. She went into her bedroom, thinking he was in there, and he was, but her heart skipped a beat when she realised that he wasn’t alone.

‘Who are you!’

She had a pig-like face, bloodshot blue eyes and wisps of dyed hair which had obviously been an unsuccessful DIY job. She wasn’t wearing any pants, not even any underwear. She only wore a dirty tank top that smelled of greasy food.

She looked at Brock, who was sitting in bed in one of his usual stained singlets.

‘What the hell is going on here?’

Surely, it can’t be what I think. It must be a misunderstanding. He would never cheat on me ... he’s too fucking lazy to cheat.

‘Oh, Zara ... I wasn’t expecting you home so soon,’ he said.

Zara thought he seemed suspiciously unsurprised.

‘Brock, who is this?’

‘This is Tessa,’ he said as he climbed out to reveal himself. Zara winced at the sight of it.

‘I’m his girlfriend,’ Tessa said as she chewed on some gum.

‘Wait, what?’ Zara shook her head in disbelief.

‘I’m sorry, Zara, but it’s over.’

‘What do you mean it’s over? Is this some sick joke?’

‘Look, Zara, we did have something going on, alright, but then you started acting all weird,’ he said. ‘You started waking up at five-thirty in the morning, not eating meat and doing yoga or whatever, and then you started talking about it on the Internet.’

‘I was trying to improve myself,’ she said defensively. ‘I wanted both of us to improve.’

‘He didn’t need no improvement.’ Tessa placed her hands on her hips and leaned her torso and neck forward like a chicken as she spoke. ‘He don’t need no insta-hoe to rule his life!’

‘Insta-hoe? What? Get the fuck out of my apartment, both of you!’

‘Um, honey, it’s his apartment,’ said Tessa. ‘You pack up your things and move in back with ya mama.’

‘Listen, you piece of trash, this is my apartment,’ she snapped. ‘My family helped me buy it. I decorated it. I maintained it. I cleaned up after him every night. He had hardly any interest in choosing the right place for us to live. I had to do all the decision-making, while he just strolled along behind me, hoping to get out of his mum’s place. Well, you can both go back to his mama. I’m sure you’ll all be really fucking happy together in that tiny apartment.’

‘We better go, Tessa,’ said Brock as he picked up his underwear from the floor. ‘Before Zara fucking kills us.’

She turned her back to them while they got dressed. Her mouth went dry and her eyes filled up with tears.

How could I have been so stupid? It was so obvious to everyone else that things were not working out. Why didn’t I just admit that to myself and end it on my terms?

‘I’ll come back for my stuff later,’ he said awkwardly.

‘No, I’ll send it to you,’ she said bitterly. ‘I never want to see you in this apartment again.’

He pulled up his zipper.

‘Let’s go,’ he sighed.

‘That’s right, bitch,’ Tessa said proudly as she and Brock exited the apartment. ‘He’s my man now.’

Zara almost grabbed her by the neck, but she managed to restrain herself and simply said, ‘You can have him, you ugly little troll.’

#writerblr #gothic Horror #supernatural horror

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grapsandclaps · 6 years

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GRAPS & CLAPS - THE GRIMSBY EDITION PART 2! (IT'S GRIM IN GRIMSBY).

Hello again. I am Chris Wilson, the official #GrimsbyGraps correspondent for Graps and Claps. Grimsby is quite a random place for dedicated coverage but until I can coax our Andy to visit the town with the third best football team in Lincolnshire (out of 3), someone needs to tell you how #GrimsbyGraps is taking over the world. Yes, really. Well, maybe.

It all started when some brilliant, creative genius invented the #GrimsbyGraps hashtag and-- Okay, fine, let's skip forward.

Since the last time we were here for BWR's Ignition, British Wrestling Revolution put tickets on sale for their next show, 'No Gods, No Masters'. It sold out in ten hours! This was for a bigger venue too: the first card at the prestigious - if a place for record, job and craft fairs counts as that - Cleethorpes Memorial Hall in 24 years. Unbelievable stuff. BWR then put tickets on sale for their April event also at the Memorial Hall, 'Dive and Kicking', possibly in hope of starting PROGRESS-style immediate sell-outs from now until the end of time. They have sold half their allocation so far. Pretty impressive for #GrimsbyGraps, but the difference between the two shows is one man alone. As discussed before on this blog, having the WWE UK champion Pete Dunne on the card guarantees an extra 80 to 100 ticket sales. He is a rare draw in the age of strongly-branded promotions themselves being the main attraction.

BWR stacked the card for 'No Gods, No Masters'. Suddenly, a snowstorm in March. BWR came out relatively unscathed considering OTT and Discovery Wrestling have cancelled their plans for this weekend. However, BWR announced the morning of the show that Kay Lee Ray, Big T, Big Grizzly, and Tel Banham couldn't make it. And later in the afternoon, the weather had held down and choked Bram in Birmingham, meaning five matches would not go ahead as scheduled. The good news, though: the two big contests remained in tact.

So, let's get on with the report.

Firstly, you can tell I'm not Andy Ogden as my pre-show drinking involved a bottle of water to keep myself hydrated, followed by a severely-diluted protein shake due to my next shipment of powder being stuck in a van somewhere on the motorway (wouldn't have happened if Amazon used Simon Morris Transport). Yes, instead of pub crawling, I was in the gym until 30 minutes before bell-time. And that's why I'm only allowed to report on #GrimsbyGraps.

'No Gods, No Masters' began with the ring announcer's opening spiel. Apparently "we're not jobbing to a snow storm" (actual words), and he used a variation of "the weather's cold outside but the action inside is RRREEEDDD HOT". Pop.

Out came Reese Ryan, doing his Nathan Cruz circa 2012 'Hollywood-with-a-thick-northern-accent' shtick. His advertised Blockbuster Announcement was in two parts: not only has he released Big T from his security detail and replaced him with evil choir boy Will Kroos, but he introduced the Real Wrestling VIP Championship. In wrestling, it seems you can bring your own title and it's legitimate. Jonny Storm appeared unannounced and challenged Ryan for the belt. What followed was a ten-minute bout in which Storm outclassed Ryan in between the referee somehow failing to notice the large evil choir boy attacking Storm. Kroos entered the ring and planted Storm with a DDT to ensure Ryan retained his "title".

Next, the Korn-dubstep antics of Guilty By Habit transcended Southside Wrestling as Robbie X and SUUUUUUUUPERTWAT Kip Sabian (replacing Big Grizzly) defeated The Proven's Caz Crash and Sam Wilder. This was a top-notch contest. I love how X and Sabian don't get along, as though they're only in GBH together because their mates are mates. An added bonus too: the match ended with a CHEEKY ROLL-UP and a CHEEKY HOLDING ONTO THE TIGHTS. #MyGraps.

Lana Austin was up next, accompanied by Eliza Roux and Jami Sparx. With Kay Lee Ray "too scared" to show up, Roux offered an open challenge on "her best friend Lana's" behalf. Little Miss Roxxy made her BWR debut by accepting. Although the crowd took a while to get into it, Austin and Roxxy put in quite a shift until everyone was emotionally invested. Roxxy finally gained momentum once Roux and Sparx were kicked out for their extra-curricular activities and hit a springboard knee-faceplant for the win. Roux and Sparx reappeared and left Roxxy laying on the canvas.

Before intermission, we saw the much-hyped hardcore match between Jimmy Havoc and local hero/silly boy Tyler Devlin. There were no pretences here: both men introduced every weapon they were planning to use from under the ring before the bell rung. Devlin's antics were mercifully less of his own doing this time, but he still managed to get thrown onto a ladder, bounce off a guardrail he had balanced from the ring, eat pins, get curb stomped onto pins, and falling after Havoc's rainmaker onto, yup, pins. Silly boy. Rewind a bit: the ultimate silly boy-ness came moments before when he executed a Jeff Hardy-style senton bomb from a ladder through a table outside the ring... and missed. It was the sickest spot I've seen in person since Death House. Silly boy. Havoc won with that aforementioned rainmaker. After the match, he got on the mic, said he was impressed with Devlin, "but you're just a Jimmy Havoc knock-off". Cue a kick to the nads. Bit harsh from Havoc. I'd say he's more a Clint Margera knock-off.

Intermission. £1.10 for a can of Fanta Lemon went down very well considering I didn't know Fanta Lemon was still a thing. Meanwhile, the raffle was £1 PER NUMBER. Related note: Cleethorpes voted Tory.

After a forty minute break for some reason, we returned with Tyson T-Bone coming out. Originally he was meant to face Bram. His new opponent was... Gabriel Kidd. Every time I go to a show where someone pulls out, Kidd is the replacement. 3CW in November, PROGRESS Sheffield in December, now this. Never mind "Life Boat Man", he should be called "Answers The Phone Man".

Tyson T-Bone versus Gabriel Kidd sounded terrible on paper. Already in my head, I was going to dismiss the match. So, obviously, they fucked with me by having a blistering, hard-hitting brawl that went around the ring - including a sweet knee drop by Kidd onto T-Bone as he hung over the guardrail - and delivered more chops than a vegan's nightmare. It helped how the crowd were RRREEEDDD-HOT for this (take note, Sheffield Southside). T-Bone hit Kidd with a piledriver for the victory and both men were applauded. If it wasn't for the main event, this would've been my match of the night. Strange times indeed.

Next: Scotty Rawk, Cole Quinzel, Matt Myers, and Kelvin Kayton defeated Jimmy Mcilwee, Harry the Hammer Winston, evil choir boy Will Kroos, and (despite being fired in November) Simon Lancaster in a "Get the Lads on the Card" match. The crowd love Mcilwee's homeless, can't-get-a-BWR-contract-even-though-he's-on-every-card gimmick but there was nothing else noteworthy here.

El Ligero versus Tom Weaver versus Robbie X doing double-duty in place of Tel Banham. In a confusing series of events: the ring announcer said the following was a triple-threat match, Robbie X attacked Tom Weaver during his entrance, and he interjected himself into the match to make it... a triple threat match? The announcer tried back-tracking by saying he "suddenly understood" the original third participant couldn't be there, but it was a bit contrived (sorry, readers). This was another excellent contest. Weaver hit a shooting star press on X for the victory before Ligero approvingly shook his hand. I hope they find something substantial for Weaver - as a local lad, he deserves more high-profile fights at these bigger shows than winning throwaway - albeit great - triple threat matches.

In the main event, WWE UK champion Pete Dunne faced the World #GrimsbyGraps Champion Joseph Conners for the latter's title. With this being the third high-profile match between the two in seven weeks (PROGRESS, TNT, here), a friend joked they are this generation's Jonny Storm versus Jody Fleisch. And you can't help but admit they work really well together, telling a well-told story of the cocky AF Dunne stretching Conners as the World #GrimsbyGraps Champion got the crowd (who were evenly split) behind him to make his comeback. I admire how Dunne never half-arses a match, pulling out the same flips and top-rope stomps and high-octane brawling as seen in Fight Club Pro. Together they brought out a big match feel likely never seen in Grimsby/Cleethorpes. It's a massive credit to both men. But...

...let's quickly talk about Dunne's WWE UK title. I can't believe this has never been angrily discussed on Twitter. Can you name me one time other than PROGRESS Ally Pally where the current UK champion has taken a pinfall or submission loss at a non-WWE show? It's as though there's a contractual obligation or something. To be fair, I believed for a couple of near falls that Dunne would become the World #GrimsbyGraps Champion, even if I never believed Conners would cleanly retain the title. Here came the bullshit finish: Tyson T-Bone ran in and attacked both men. No contest. Conners and Dunne chased off T-Bone. Then Conners challenged Dunne to continue the match, only for Dunne to kick him in the nads and leave. Conners got on the mic again and teased a rematch between the two down the line to end the show. Finish aside, this was easily the best match in the era of #GrimsbyGraps to date.

'No Gods, No Masters' as a whole, putting aside my local pride, was a top-shelf show. They overcame the weather and delivered one of the stronger cards I've been to for some time. The crowd was well up for the action, while the wrestlers brought their A-game. Cleethorpes Memorial Hall is a cracking venue for the graps too. Definitely worth the visit if you're coming from out of town. Just, you know, avoid going out in Cleethorpes afterwards if you enjoy your health and wellbeing.

Here's hoping the momentum continues into 'Dive and Kicking' on April 20th. This event will feature a tournament to crown the first-ever BWR Cruiserweight champion - an odd choice for a division given all but three guys are cruiserweights, but there we go. Of course, your #GrimsbyGraps correspondent will be there in person, so I'll see you back on Graps and Claps on the 21st.

Until next time!

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