#the title is a reference to that and also probably to the flying the union jack upside down
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A quick skim through the BBC!Ghosts tag tells me that no one has spent too much time trying to decode the Captain’s service ribbons. Lucky you, I did!
The badge on his jacket lapels say that he was in the royal artillery
1939 to 1945 Star: This is awarded to anyone who completed operational service overseas between 3 September 1939 and 8 May 1945 for at least 180 days.
France and Germany Star: Awarded for at least 1 day of operational service in France, Belgium, Luxembourg, The Netherlands or Germany between 6 June 1944 and 8 May 1945.
Defence Medal: Awarded for non-operational service (like training bases, for example) in the UK or overseas. A minimum of 3 years service in either the UK (3 Sep 1939 and 8 May 1945) or in the Home Guard (14 May 1940 and 31 Dec 1944) are required; if stationed overseas, 1 year between 3 Sep 1939 and 2 Sep 1945.
War Medal 1939 to 1945: Awarded to all full time personnel of the armed forces who served at least 28 days between 3 September 1939 and 2 September 1945, no matter where. In Europe, WWII ended in May 1945; this medal was instituted in August 1945.
He doesn’t wear any other clasp, so he didn’t fight in the Battle for Britain or the Battle of the Atlantic (makes sense, those were RAF and Navy stuff mostly). The Africa Star was awarded for a minimum of one day of operational service in North Africa, the Arctic Star was awarded for any amount of time spent fighting in that campaign, and the Pacific, Burma, and Italy Stars were awarded upon entry into an operational area. He was awarded none of these medals, which means he only fought the France and Germany campaign.
He only wears WWII medals, which means he didn’t fight in WWI (it was unlikely he would have anyway, tbh, 41 was the the maximum age to fight in WWII, which would have made him 18 in 1916). The order I’ve written them out in (from top to bottom) is the order they should go left to right. For some reason, the Captain is wearing the ribbon band upside down. That’s a very huge big no good no-no. At first I assumed if was a mistake by the costume people, but it’s been three seasons and that hasn’t been fixed yet so I have to conclude it’s intentional. It could be some kind of BBC directive (idk, “non-army personnel has to wear the uniform in a certain way or it’s an insult to the queen” or some other silly nonsense) or it could be a genuine mistake the Captain made before dying, in which case I assume he’s spent sixty years being massively bothered by this. [ @lagoonnebula6523 said that the director of series 1 and 2 hinted that the reason for this mistake would be revealed in a future series, which I think points to an in universe explanation. Thank you for the info, this is super cool to know!] [Small aside, but I remember googling why the ribbons would be worn upside down and what i found was neat but probably unrelated. Check the tags if you’re interested]
I believe he’s in a service dress, which basically means he was at some kind of event when he died. He’s not in the army equivalent of the white tie, so we’re not talking about something too fancy. Maybe some sort of minor party?
So yeah, dude died after the war ended, and considering he seems used to saying “king” instead of “queen” I feel like he died either before Elizabeth was crowned or just after, so somewhere between August 1945 and around 1953-55
#bbc ghosts#ghosts bbc#bbc!ghosts#long story short; dude fought at least half a year in belgium and france#Could have been involved with d-day or he could have arrived later#he also doesn't have a Korea medal (the requirement for it is at least one day in korea if you're army)#that war started in 1950 and was established in 1951#that could mean he died before that war begun... but i also have no fucking clue how the army works#like idk maybe they only sent six pople who drew the short stick for that one and he wasn't one of them#and i mean his knees are clearly in a bad way so maybe he was alive and just couldn't go#he could also have been too old (read: over 41) for that one#Okay now re: what i found out when i googled why a ribbon band would be worn upside down#I found were a couple of articles about some army guy wearing the ribbon band upside down by mistake and apologizing for it#(i seem to remember he was american but still i think the contriteness would be the same)#and the historical novel “The Reverse of the Medal” by Patrick O’Brian#remember the Master and Commander movie? It comes from a series of books the reverse of the medal is from#if you don't remember it: historical novels set in 1800 following a Navy officer and his friend#in the Reverse of the Medial a character goes through cashiering#(basically a ritual of shame in which you're dishonourably discharged)#the title is a reference to that and also probably to the flying the union jack upside down#flying the union jack upside down is a big no no but it's sometimes done (generally by people in the forces)#to signal distress#the title is obviously also a reference to the turn of phrase 'opposite side of the medal'#is this in any way relevant to the Captain? Probably not!
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So Episode 117.
The one I was dreading the most.
This is episode probably where ARC-V's Jumping the Shark became most evident, which is sad, since this episode is actually decently animated, and the Duel itself is well written. This is episode is also where we need to start to discuss the very, very deep lore, both in-canon, and post-canon. And infinite fetishes ARC-V launched.
Since we will be diving deeper into ARC-V lore for the final episodes, expect many of the upcoming episodes' discussion to be very, very long as well.
Let's dive bells deep.
This episode's title is Sinister Bell's Chime, but due to the Kanji writing, it can be alternatively read as Sound of Rin Bearing Her Fangs, which the previous episode's preview joked about. This episode's title is referenced in Windwitch Chimes.
This episode's, and basically all of the Bracelet Girl's theme will be the usual girl brainwashing plot. Despite Shin Yoshida not being present, ARC-V, for whatever reason, decided to go with the most obviously sexual variant.
Before we dive into the episode, we need to briefly talk about the card, Fusion Parasite, or Parasite Fusioner in Japanese. This card, and its overall theme is a reference Insector Haga's Parasite monsters, which is why Haga appeared in Serena's Duel Links event as a Parasite user.
The card itself based on the Planidium of various species, though their brain-altering method is possibly based off Phoridae, or jewel wasps, and their relatives. The monsters (as in, including Parasite Queen) themselves more closely resemble pseudoscorpions, which have same species that phoretic, ie. they attach themselves to other insects to move around (you can look at the pics, they look quite goofy at it), but don't really cause harm.
Fusion Parasite is an interesting card, since its actual animé effect allows it to equip itself to a monster, like Kiseitai, and later released Parasite Paranoid, and protect it like a Union monster, but this is not present in the OCG version. As for Kahyoreigetsu, this card is effectively part of Bracelet Girls' official OCG strategy, but its Support has not been physically printed.
****
Episode begins with Rin kicking Yugo off the tower, and Kaito is similarly kicked out by Ruri. Shun rescues Kaito, and is with Edo, who will be relevant in Sora's character beats. Edo revealed Ruri's location to Shun.
Edo reveals Leo has a Duelist that control others, alluding to the Doktor. Kaito tells Edo to help Yugo, and he will deal with this himself.
Rin challenges Yugo to a Duel with Fusion Duel Disk, Yugo has the flashback about his D-Wheel's construction.
Yugo has no idea Rin is controlled, he just assumes she is in her regular c**t behaviour.
Rin uses Chime of the Wind to Summon Ice Bell, the effect of which is used in OCG version of Ice Bell, in an altered, and nerfed form.
She Summons another Ice Bell, with a recolor.
Snow Bell's summon has an alarm bell sound.
Winter Bell is Summoned. So a brief talk, this card's animé effect is radically different. It copies the effect of a Windwitch that is Level 4 or lower from the GY. Its OCG burn effect is much, much stronger. Its copy effect has the same alarm sound.
Rin baits Yugo by riding on Winter Bell. Yugo, finally thinking, notices the Duel Disk, and realizes Academia did something to her. Nonetheless, since she isn't that c**tier than past, he is not sure.
The card Yugo Summons, Bamboo Horse, is actually partially based on a cucumber horse from the Bon festival (more popularly known as Obon), which later became a different card (there are also Rush Duel cards based on the same concept):
Yugo Summons Clear Wing to make Rin remember about her memories of it. Clear Wing's flying animation is probably a reference to the final 5D's opening's opening shot with Signer Dragons.
Rin uses Lost Wind for effect negation. Clear Wing loses its shine.
Doktor claims he did it because it was ugly. He states Parasite monstes he created allows him to collect the host's memories, and analyze them, effectively serving as cheaper memory probes than the GX era machines they were using. Doktor states Parasite monsters are programmed to keep hosts loyal to Leo. Leo doesn't want the girls harmed, so they can be sacrificed for Ray, Doktor claims they have means to protect the girls, alluding to the Union-esque protection effect I mentioned above.
Lancers speculate on why Yusho went to Academia. Reiji reveals it was because of Yusho's promise to him. Reiji reveals why Yusho was disappeared (Yuzu was trying to tell Yuya this, but got captured before the full details). Reiji reveals he met Serena back then, and Yuya, and Yuzu reignited his memory of her.
He reveals another terminology, Revival Zero, Gongenzaka speculates what that might mean. Reiji states there were the files of two people, Serena, and Yuri. Reiji speculates Dimensional Counterparts are related to Leo's plan, we get a shot of the counterparts. Despite this, Reiji states they should trust their friends.
Yugo wants to make Rin remember, Doktor says good luck with that. Rin attacks Yugo, Yugo blocks it.
Rin uses Call of the Windwitch, the effect of which is in the OCG version of Winter Bell in a nerfed form. With that, we covered all the OCG effects of it.
Call of the Windwitch calls Fusion Parasite. Yugo wonders why Rin has that card.
Rin jumps and Fusion Summons Crystal Bell, in an animation is certainly traced from Serena, she has the dark energy coming from her.
Crystal Bell's Summon animation is a reference to Hamon's Summon from GX. Rin jumps to Crystal Bell in a rather lame animation.
Fusion Parasite attaches to Crystal Bell's chest.
Yugo wonders if Rin is part of Academia, Doktor claims Rin is fighting for Academia on her own choice. With Crystal Bell's attack, Yugo's D-Wheel is crashed (don't worry, it will become the basis of Yugo's Level 11 monster much later).
Yugo has the big speech, we get more of their flashbacks. Rin uses Crystal Bell's effect to copy Ice Bell.
Rin wants Yugo to surrender. Yugo refuses, and eventually Summons Crystal Wing to crush the fake Crystal Bell.
Rin uses Crystal Bell's effect, this time to copy from either GY, she copies Clear Wing, but Crystal Wing negates Clear Wing, causing Rin to send Fusion Parasite to GY to protect Crystal Bell, but then Yugo just attacks it.
When Fusion Parasite is sent back, Crystal Bell's glow shifts from purple to blue.
Yugo assumes the big attack had brought Rin back. It didn't.
Crystal Bell's second effect works with any Level 4 or lower monster in the animé, so she brings back Fusion Parasite. She kicks Yugo back, and re-fuses Crystal Bell.
Doktor claims his Parasite monsters are more stubborn than Yugo. Rin uses Ice Bell's effect once again, defeating Yugo.
Yuzu is put into a cell by Serena, we get the shot of Fusion Parasite's tail from Serena's ear.
Lancers try to climb a cliff.
Next episode is Sanders, and the Survival Duel.
****
That was the episode, here is the lore.
As seen in the episode, Crystal Bell is supposed to be an evil counterpart of Crystal Wing, whose episode title heavily implied it is born out of Yugo, and Rin's connection. Its post-canonical purified form, Diamond Bell, is supposed to be more close Crystal Clear Wing apparently, though I lost the comparison post made by some Japanese fan.
Crystal Bell, as we discussed before, has the same effect as Yubel's Phantom of Chaos, hence why it uses Hamon's animation. Its ATK, and Level is the same Starving Venom, and since their effect copying effects are similar, this is supposed to be a hint that Yugo will lose against Yuri, though at this point you probably knew that (he is evil Yuya, so Yuya will fight against him), even if you never watched the show before.
If you combine Revival Zero with Arc Area Project, you get... Zero Arc. Z-ARC. Interesting. Smarter beans in the background probably got what this means, and it is not ironic reference to the fact that Leo's actions revive Z-ARC. We will discuss this more in detail, as we find out more details.
Smarter beans in the background also likely noticed that Winter Bell-Crystal Bell have the statlines of Red-Eyes variants, and Clear Wing variants go from Stardust Dragon statline to Blue-Eyes statline. As we will discuss later, Clear Wing has some Blue-Eyes allusions from its lore/Summon chants, so this is just another reference to that.
Since I already discussed Windwitches in detail before, I won't go to the retreads. But here is some details:
Crystal Bell has swirl patterns alluding to Fusion. Its purified form Diamond Bell has blue swirls, alluding to Synchro. Crystal Bell has a purple crystal like Reiji's D/D/D Pendulum monsters, but Diamond Bell has a blue one like Yuya's Pendulum. It is not initially visible, but Diamond Bell has also golden spear design motifs around it, alluding to Beyond the Pendulum (ie. Ray), though Diamond Bell was released much earlier:
The purified form, Diamond Bell, is more of a defensive monster. It destroys opponent's cards when other Windwitches deal damage. Its secondary effect is a homage to the fact Windwitches had archetype restrictions for their Summon, which will likely be the standard for partially nerfing future support's effect, by forcing to be activated when Windwitches are Summoned by other Windwitches.
There is probably more to discuss, but this post is already too long.
Anyway, with this episode, Yugo's role as the series deuteragonist is effectively over, but he will hang around with Edo for a while. This isn't really for his character development, but more for Sora's.
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Essential Avengers: Avengers #210: You Don’t Need the Weathermen to Know Which Way the Wind Blows!
August, 1981
Wow that is one hell of a title! At least in terms of length.
Not the best though.
That still belongs to Avengers #12: “This Hostage Earth!”: In Which the Mighty Avengers Battle to Save Their Beloved Planet From a Fate So Deadly That None But the Macabre Mole Man Could Have Devised It!: A Marvel Tale of Most Compelling Excellence!”
The title to this one being a Bob Dylan reference gets its some bonus points though.
Hmm, this issue is written by Bill Mantlo and he’s also the co-creator of Rocket Raccoon, originally an extended reference to a Beatles song.
Guy loves his song references.
The cover is also pretty excellent this time too. Damn but do I miss covers like this. Four different perils befallen the Avengers separated by the presumed villain’s helmet crest.
So take us away, Mantlo.
We start the issue with the return of the ridiculous four-sided television for the Avengers meeting table. Except now its five four-sided tvs on one pole for maximum media absorption from multiple angles.
And the Avengers are watching THE WEATHER CHANNELS!
Scarlet Witch: “Why have you summoned us, Captain America? What new menace confronts the Avengers?”
Wonder Man: “Wait until you hear, Wanda! Cap’s called us together to watch the weather report!”
Don’t be so surprised. The title and the cover are all about weather.
Cap though says that this weather channel may be showing THE BEGINNING OF THE END OF THE WORLD!
But surely he’s exaggerating. Even if 2012 the movie ridonkulous weather disasters happen and wipe out humanity, the world will keep on zooming through space. Its a persistent rock.
End of humanity is pretty bad too, from the point of view of humanity. Which the Avengers either are or aspire to.
So there are excessive tornadoes in Kansas. So far, of course.
London is flooding.
There are unnatural thunderstorms and torrential rains in New York, so bad that Thor has decided to show up without being summoned to go ‘hey how about this weather, right?’
Buenos Aires is freezing, baffling and befuddling bikini beach goers.
Which Beast ogles.
Beast, pls. The fate of the humanity is at stake here.
And there’s a heatwave over Antarctica melting ice and raising the water levels, threatening low lying countries. Or mostly just England somehow.
The government’s weather monitoring space station with a weird name Samarobyrn has determined that these weather disruptions are too systematic to be natural so the Avengers are going to split into five groups to investigate the five places I’ve already mentioned, since they’re the five places most seriously affected according to the satellite Samarobyrn.
Beast is going to go to Buenos Aires, to his delight.
Wanda and Vision will go to Kansas.
Beast: “The perfect place to send the Good Witch of the East!”
The Wasp and Wonder Man will head to Antarctica.
Wasp: “Great! Finally I get a chance to wear my new fur coat!”
... Wasp. Heatwave.
Thor will investigate the thunderstorms in New York.
And Cap and Iron Man will go to London.
Not sure what they’re going to do against large-scale weather disturbances. Can’t exactly punch the climate. At least not personally.
Maybe punching a weatherman will help. Can’t make the situation worse.
Anyway, the Avengers all head off to their own destinations, with Beast snarking “Say, shouldn’t someone yell ‘Avengers Dissemble’?!”
So, this reminds me of something, really briefly. There was an episode of Avengers: Earth’s Mightiest Heroes that used the title This Hostage Earth (sadly sans the rest) and also coincidentally seems to share some elements with this story. The Avengers split up to investigate seven different anomalies with Iron Man wryly commenting that he should say Avengers Dissemble.
Doesn’t have much of anything to do with this. I was just reminded because of mentioning This Hostage Earth ect earlier.
Anyway, while all of the other Avengers dissemble, Thor tarries.
So he’s still in the meeting room when Jocasta arrives and wonders what the hell is going on. She only found out there was a meeting at all because Jarvis told her.
Damn, that’s rude, the other Avengers.
Thor: “An oversight, surely. Our ranks have swelled of late, and with no permanent chairman, ‘tis hard to know whose responsibility ‘twas to summon thee.”
Jocasta: “True? And yet I have felt... apart from the others. Being a creature of cybernetic circuits and not flesh and blood, I am always aware that I am... different.”
Thor: “And thou thinkest we do shun thee for it? Nay, milady! The Avengers are a composite of mortal and immortal, android and man-beast, man and mutant! Different, Jocasta? Aye, so are we all!”
Oh, hey. There’s that arc about Jocasta feeling disconnected from the other Avengers. We haven’t touched on it for a while but it was a running thing in the Shooter run previously. She tried to make friends with various Avengers but they tended to inadvertently blow her off due to their own preoccupations or just getting distracted.
So, no, Thor, I don’t think that the Avengers are intentionally shunning her. But I do think that none of them have really been reaching out to her, either. And you’re all she has.
Thor heads out to his mission and this time Jocasta tarries, thinking about things and stuff.
So she’s still in the meeting room when the computer pulls up some exposition based on a random thing Beast asked rhetorically.
“Origin of the word Samarobryn in the disaster prophecies of Michael Nostradamus... Samarobryn one hundred leagues from the hemisphere. They will live without law, exempt from politics.”
Huh!
I don’t think I knew that Nostradamus had a first name!
Weird that someone would name a weather satellite after a disaster prophecy that predicted famine caused by excessive rain. That’s like naming a communications satellite Babel.
Anyway, the Avengers all head in five different directions with four Quinjets and one Thor and Jocasta takes a fifth Quinjet and heads off into space.
Huh! They have five whole Quinjets now!
Thor flies up into the sky and begins yelling at the clouds, as one might expect from Thor.
Thor: “The storm rages as it hast for hours, with a fury that doth threaten the very existence of the Midgardian mortals dwelling below! ‘Tis time to leash the lightning -- to put the rain to rout! Cease, storm! ‘Tis the god of thunder who dost command thee!”
And then Thor gets hit in the face by lightning.
This storm is a rude.
Thor is stunned by all of this lightning in the face, I guess backing up Clone Squirrel Girl’s use of electricity to knock out Jane!Thor that one time, nearly falling out of the sky before whirling Mjolnir like a helicopter to land smoothly.
And then Thor goes back to yelling at clouds except this time not just clouds because he spots the one who hit him with lightning and it is a who and not a what.
Thor: “Descend, Villain! And if yon storm be thy doing -- desist!”
Weatherman: “Have a care, god of thunder! Not even you can command... a WEATHERMAN!”
I have queried an expert who has told me that yes, this guy looks a bit tokusatsu.
(And he’s orange. Spoilers: There’s a different colored one wherever the Avengers go. A full color-coded team.)
Anyway, two hours later and over in London, England, Iron Man and Captain America arrive to deal with London being flooded.
Iron Man: “Do you realize just how selective these disasters are, Cap? After all, England and Holland border on the same body of water -- and the first’s been inundated, while the second hasn’t been touched!”
Huh! That is weird. And seems incredibly implausible or like someone or thing incredibly powerful is also incredibly angry at the English.
While Iron Man flies around shooting the water with repulsors to... shove it back into the ocean? Is that what’s going on?? I mean, if the water is disproportionately high on England’s side of the channel then I guess you could just shove the water and accomplish something but I thought there was something going on with Antarctica melting which would indicate that the sea levels are also rising but then why would it be affecting only England and oh no comic logic has broken me
Anyway, while ^ that is happening, Captain America lands the Quinjet on Parliament since there’s not many good places to land and really, how often can you say to have landed a jet on a government building?
He’s old, let him have his fun.
But it’s not just fun! He’s Captain America, the man who wakes up at 4 AM to go for a ten miles jog so he can be showered and ready to superhero by 6 AM, probably!
He notices some kids clinging to an overturned double decker bus (because how would we know it was London without?) and he jumps from Parliament to swing on a Union Jack flag to the bus.
And then he uses the flag to create a tether to a rescue boat that the kids can cross over on.
AND THEN THE BLUE WEATHER RANGER! appears.
Flying around on a hoverdisc and creating a localized tidal wave. The wave smacks Cap off the bus into the water as Blue Weather Ranger gloats.
Weatherman: “Let that be a lesson to you not to wrest lives away -- when they’ve been claimed by... a Weatherman!”
And now a scene transition to sunny Antarctica where Jan van Wasp is finally getting the idea that heatwave means that her fur coat is superfluous.
While melting Antarctica temps might still be cold, this specific melting Antarctica temp is almost tropical!
And its not just sunny, it seems like the sun is moving closer, like the angry sun from Mario Bros 3 because iiiiiiiiits.... THE RED WEATHERMAN!
Weatherman: “Die, Avengers! The only fate for those who would defy... a Weatherman!”
The Red Weather Ranger blasts them with heat beams of a thousand degrees, melting the ice right out from under them.
Wasp figures that the Red Weatherman is radiating heat in waves so she could hypothetically hit him between cycles.
Hypothetically.
Because she can’t figure out the frequency and instead the Weatherman sets her wings on fire. And her wings are an organic part of her and she hurts when they hurts. So she plummets into the water to put herself out.
Hmm... the yellow and black look good on Jan and fits with the Wasp name but sometimes she doesn’t look dissimilar to an X-Men.
Wonder Man does what Wonder Man does and picks up a heavy thing and chucks it jerkwards.
But they’re in Antarctica so heavy thing is a giant ice chunk and jerk is a really hot guy so the ice chunk melts midflight pelting the two Avengers with boiling rain.
Wow, this is going poorly so far!
Who’s next?
Scarlet Witch and Vision are next! And they’ve gone to Kansas to fight tornadoes.
I’m. Not sure how that’s going to play out. I really feel like the Avengers are out of their element trying to fight the weather. Is it too late to call in the X-Men and specifically Storm?
She’s doing a crossover with Dazzler this month in 1981 so its not like she was too busy.
Anyway, Scarlet Witch flies the Quinjet at a tornado and then is shocked when the jet gets swept into the funnel cloud and spins out of control
She wonders why Vision is just standing there but he learned a thing from the Yellow Claw two-parter and isn’t just standing there.
He actually makes his mass so heavy that it forces the Quinjet to the ground with a WHRUMP!
I can’t imagine that’d be good for either the Quinjet or the passengers but I’ll give Vision this.
Its cool that he can do his thing without outwardly expending any effort.
Scarlet Witch: “Yes, neither of our powers are quite so flamboyant as Cap throwing his shield, or Thor his hammer -- but they have proven most effective, else we would not be Avengers!”
And then she uses her witchcraft to force two of the tornadoes to slam into each other and cancel out.
This also seems dubious. Since tornadoes tend to spin the same direction you’d think that instead of cancelling, they’d become one giant super tornado. Them cancelling each other out seems quite improbable actually. Which is probably exactly why it works.
Take that, SCIENCE.
But there’s still one tornado left and its coming for them! And since it appears to not be naturally formed, it defies Wanda’s nature based magic! Curses!
Annnnnnnnnd... It’s a WEATHERMAN!
The ebony Weatherman. Although he looks purple to me.
Weatherman: “Stand or flee, it will make no difference! Your lives are in the hands of a... WEATHERMAN!”
And another scene transition.
Geez, this plot split the party hard. And I think it’s beginning to realize how hard it is to split the story between six groups because this vignette gets four panels before moving on.
Beast lands in beautiful snow-covered iceberg infested Buenos Aires and takes a brief moment to be horny about a bunch of bikini women who have been frozen alive.
Beast: “Oh, my stars and garters! Those bathing beauties I saw on T.V. -- they’re frozen solid! Maybe I could take one or two back to thaw out in my room at Avengers mansion?”
And then as if to punish him for this, the white WEATHERMAN! immediately appears and freezes Beast solid.
Weatherman: “You will need to unfreeze yourself first, man-beast! So says... a WEATHERMAN!”
Beast: “Yoiks!”
Good thing freezing is basically harmless in comics.
And our final party, Jocasta IN SPAAAAAAACE.
Because Quinjets can still just achieve escape velocity. That’s some good super-science.
Jocasta: “Samarobyrn, Earth’s first weather-monitoring space station! It’s so... beautiful! A shimmering silver wheel in space -- a triumph of science and engineering, created to faithfully serve its creators... as was I. Perhaps that is why I alone thought to come here.”
And since she’s a robot, she just jumps out of the Quinjet airlock that it definitely always has had and uses her EYE BEAMMM to basically propel herself away from the Quinjet and toward the Samarobyrn station.
That’s pretty cool, actually. I’m not sure if, scientifically, laser eyes would actually propel that much, but its a cool thought.
Of course, Jocasta has to do all of this cool stuff because the space station didn’t respond to the docking requests Jocasta sent. So she has to go in through the manual override airlock.
In the station, Jocasta finds no signs of life even though it was supposed to have a five man crew.
She finds her way to the hub of the station where the computer monitors are all monitoring the five separate Avengers missions.
So she’s pretty sure her suspicions were correct.
Jocasta: “The five foes facing my fellow Avengers must be the five crewmen of Samarobryn! They have distorted this station’s functioning from that of weather-monitoring to weather control -- and now exploit it for their own evil ends!”
Samarobryn: “You are wrong, silver sister!”
WELP!
The space station computer has gone all HAL. Dammit, this always happens!
So Samarobryn decides to explain it all.
It had a humble beginning as a computer for the U.S. Weather Service’s Project Earthwatch. But then one of the programmers added something extra to the concoction: NOSTRADAMUS!
No but seriously. The programmer decided to download the disaster prophecies of Nostradamus into the computer in addition to weather data.
And particularly the ones dealing with that Samarobryn prophecy, the one Jocasta read part of earlier. So when the comptuer was installed in a space station named Samarobryn, it went ‘hey that me!’
And decided to expand operations from weather monitoring to weather control.
How does a space station outfitted specifically to only monitor the weather make the jump to controlling it? Fuck you, this is comics.
When the crew grew suspicious, the computer rewrote their brains to become the Weathermen.
Why did a computer designed to monitor weather have the ability to-
Look, this is comics. Where Hank Pym, biophysicist, built a computer with a gun pre-installed and was surprised when it shot him and tried to take his wife. THIS. IS. COMICS.
Anyway, speaking of weirdly sexual computers:
Samarobryn: “I sense that you are a machine like me -- created by others but obedient to none! Join me! Be my bride! Together we will cleanse the Earth of imperfect humankind and stand guard over the paradise which remains... as gods!”
Geez, its just like Aaron Stack all over again, way before the fact. Also, Ultron. A certain type of AI is just attracted to Jocasta, huh?
Anyway, Jocasta lets Samarobryn down easy by shooting him with EYE BEAM!
Jocasta: “Nothing would remain but a lifeless mokcery of a world! No! I reject you! I was created to be the bride of another such as you -- but robot though I am, there is still some spark of humanity burning within me! I cherish it -- and would not see its source snuffed out!”
Samarobryn may be a load bearing computer pillar without arms or legs but it still manages to defend itself.
BY FLOODING THE CONTROL ROOM?
I guess everything in this room is waterproof??
And also by shooting lightning, also in the control room. Where I guess everything is lightning proof.
This is a bad plan.
More than I thought, even, because by shifting attention to defending itself up in space, Samarobryn leaves its Weathermen high and dry.
The Orange Weatherman stops being able to throw lightning bolts so Thor clobbers him.
The Red Weatherman chills out so Wonder Man and Wasp can get close and put him in a headlock.
Uh. I’m not sure if Blue Weatherman actually is affected or not because Iron Man just punches him in the back of the head while he’s distracted.
The Ebony Weatherman’s whirlwind vanishes so Scarlet Witch and Vision can kick his ass.
And Beast unfreezes as quickly as he froze and kicks the White Weatherman’s helmet off. And apparently the helmet was maintaining the mind control because the Weatherman is suddenly confused about where he is.
And with the Orange Weatherman beaten up, Thor senses, with his god senses no doubt, that the Orange Weatherman wasn’t the one commanding the weather. So there must be an unseen agent who arranged this.
So his course is clear.
Thor shoots a giant lightning bolt into space and hits Samarobryn.
He doesn’t know that the station is to blame. He’s just shooting a giant lightning bolt into space because he’s pissed that someone used lightning against him.
I guess when you’re the god of thunder, you can get a little homing capability out of your giant space lightning bolts.
Still though. Wow.
Meanwhile, in space, Samarobryn is still trying to woo Jocasta. For a certain value of woo.
Samarobryn: “It is still not too late, female! Accept me! Accept what must be! I can make you love me!”
Jocasta: “What can a machine who would destroy all those I have come to care for know of love?”
Samarobryn: “Nothing, as humans understand love -- but together we can redefine the word on the basis of our own coexistence!”
Jocasta: “Can you not understand? The fact that I am a machine does not make me less than human! I am, as Thor said, merely... different! I would try to live in their human world -- to understand how to retain that difference that makes me unique -- and yet be accepted!”
This is an interesting conversation but wouldn’t you know it? There’s a power surge. Seems like a space station got hit by lightning.
And when the lights turn back on and Jocasta wonders what happened:
Samarobryn: “I am weather-monitoring space station Samarobryn. Your question is not pertinent to weather evaluation. This unit cannot compute.”
So you know how sometimes a program crashes and you lose all your progress?
Samarobryn hadn’t backed up its sapience and the power surge effectively lobotomized it back to factory settings.
Geez.
LATER
All the Avengers stand around congratulating Jocasta for the good job and apologizing that they overlooked her.
Apparently new safeguards were put in place to prevent Samarobryn from attaining sentience again. Probably stuff like ‘don’t download doomsday prophecies into a weather satellite.’
Hm. I know Samarobryn was trying to destroy the world and all but the cavalier lobotomization of an enemy because it was a computer and thus disposable sits wrong when the Avengers have two AIs on their team. Really, the fact that it was an accident is pretty much all that lets it slide by.
Also: I’m kind of peeved that Jocasta didn’t get to resolve the situation, given that this was blatantly a Jocasta focus issue. She does pull a lot of weight, being the only one to figure out the real source of the problem and distracting Samarobryn long enough for the Avengers to beat the Weathermen. But it feels like Thor swiped the big win from her even though he didn’t even know about Samarobryn. Just shot some lightning into space and resolved the plot.
That plot resolution should have been Jocasta’s!
Anyway. Scarlet Witch says that Jocasta being overlooked like she was indicates that the Avengers need to reorganize and Vision suggests that they vote on a new chairperson.
But they’re interrupted by Cap.
Captain America: “Iron Man, Thor, and I have given some thought to the directions this team has taken -- and should take! I open the floor to discussion! The first item on the agenda being: THE OLD ORDER CHANGETH!”
Which basically means a roster shakeup.
Funny that the Avengers have had a period of disorganization and aimlessness when they didn’t have a permanent writer and now that they are getting one, they’re going to try to get their shit together.
Whatever I do, I shouldn’t miss next issue.
But before then, there’s an Avengers Annual that has to fit in somewhere and since it uses this roster of the team, might as well fit it in now, before everyone changes and it makes no sense. And its a fairly well-known Avengers Annual.
The fairly well-known Avengers Annual that looked at Avengers #200 and said ‘actually this is bullshit.’
Follow @essential-avengers. Also please like if you liked. Its good to know that somebody is reading.
Also, consider donating to the Bill Mantlo Support Fund if you enjoyed vicariously experiencing this issue or if you enjoy Rocket Raccoon or his other stuff like Cloak and Dagger, Micronauts, or Rom.
#Avengers#essential avengers#essential marvel liveblogging#Jocasta#Samarobryn#Thor#Captain America#Iron Man#the Wasp#Wonder Man#Scarlet Witch#the Vision#Beast#the very concept of weather#its out to get us#the mega-TV#too cool to exist#space lightning#regrets that no giant robot was summoned and fought
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Title: Love, Maybe? {3}
Chris Evans X Reader Vixen Giovanni
Series Warning: Plot, Cursing, Mild Sexual References
Word Count: 3K
Note: Another day, another idea. Italic writing signifies an inside thought.
**Slightly Proofread/edited**
**Interactive**
Thank you guys for reading!!!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 3: Parting Gift
-Vixen-
As you sat on the bed in your hotel room, you had several magazines spread open on your bed and your laptop open to an article about divorce. You leaned back against the headboard and stared at a picture of Chris Evans. He was walking across a parking lot with a huge smile on his face. You couldn’t deny it he was good looking, and he looked like he dressed nicely. You wondered if it was a natural talent or if he had a stylist like other celebrities. You still weren’t able to remember what happened in Vegas beyond the few flashes of memories, and you were very frustrated with it.
You looked in another magazine at the picture of Chris from some photoshoot, he was shirtless showing off his chiseled chest and defined abs, he was beyond good looking. Every woman in America probably lusted after him. Every woman probably threw themselves at him when they met him, yet here you were married to him.
“I’m married to Chris Evans. I’m Mrs. Evans.”
The sound of it out loud made you bust out laughing, a laugh that didn’t subside for several long minutes. Once you’d settled down, your eyes fell to the article on your laptop. You were about to go through with a divorce. The message from Chris was clear.
MSG Chris: 19027 Pasadena way, off of Rodeo Drive, five o’clock.
The time was drawing near, and you were getting nervous. You were married less than seventy-two hours ago to a complete celebrity stranger, and you were now seeking a divorce again in less than seventy-two hours. Your head was spinning. You knew if your parents ever found out about this, they’d be disappointed. For your entire life, they’d drilled into you the importance of marriage and how much it signified and warned you about entering into it lightly. You knew how much it meant and you believed in the sanctity of marriage, but here you were about to throw it away. You’d have to keep this secret for the rest of your life, hell if you ever got married again you couldn’t even tell him. how did you tell someone you married Chris Evans in a drunken night? You didn’t; you kept your mouth shut.
Before long, you got lost in your daydreams and thoughts and the time crept up for you to meet Chris. You dressed and gathered your things and went on your way. The few times you’d been to LA, you found it overwhelming. Everyone was here to pursue a dream, and this town was an unforgiving one, one that was filled with plenty of vain and shallow souls that only cared about looks, money, and sex. You never wanted to live in LA no matter how many times you got offered slots in culinary programs. You didn’t want to be surrounded by the jadedness; you were jaded enough. Though jaded you couldn’t deny the beauty of LA. The sun was always shining, it was warm, and the bodies were hot. You enjoyed the view through the taxi window for the twenty-minute ride.
Once you pulled up to the address, you paid the driver and walked into the building and saw Chris waiting. When he saw you, he smiled a smile that looked genuine. You smiled back and approached him.
“Glad you could make it,” Chris said.
He leaned in as if to kiss your cheek but stopped as you moved in to reciprocate, but you stopped when he did. Then he held out his hand for a handshake before he pulled it back and then you stood awkwardly in front of each other. How exactly did you greet your husband that was a stranger but was soon to be your ex-husband? Before either of you could make a bigger fool of yourselves, the office door opened and out walked an older man with salt, pepper and blonde hair, dressed in a navy-blue suit and a purple tie.
“Chris. Good to see you, buddy.”
Chris shook his hand and gave him a quick hug.
“You to Sherman.”
“So you’ve gotten yourself in a bit of a pickle huh,” Sherman spoke. Chris nodded sheepishly.
“Yes. This is Vixen,” Chris introduced. Sherman smiled warmly at you.
“Nice to meet you Vixen, or should I say, Mrs. Evans?”
Chris laughed nervously along with Sherman, and you tried to as well but couldn’t although you’d just laughed your ass off over it. Seeing your blank face, both men stopped laughing and cleared their throats.
“My name is Sherman Alexander. Don’t worry we’ll get this cleared up for you. follow me.”
You both followed him into his office that was filled with mahogany furniture and smelled like cigars and whiskey. You approached one of the plush mahogany colored leather chairs and sat down.
“Okay, so from Chris’s voicemail it sounds as if you two got married on the fly in Vegas and didn’t qualify for an annulment which brings me in the mix for a discreet divorce,” Sherman cliff noted.
“Yes. Right?” Chris questioned, looking at you for back up. You nodded.
“Yes.”
“All right then let’s get down to business. I know everything about you, Chris. Vixen let’s get some information about you.”
“Like what?”
“Where do you live?”
“San Francisco.”
“What do you do for a living?”
“Uh, I’m a bartender.”
“Really? I didn’t know that,” Chris piped up.
“Yeah, fair to say there is quite a bit you don’t know about me,” you responded. He nodded.
“Okay. Since this was a quickie marriage, there was no prenup, right?”
“Don’t worry, I don’t want anything from him—from you,” you rushed out.
“Really? Not even a little monetary compensation for this whole ordeal? Maybe fifty thousand dollars?” Sherman asked with his eyebrow quirked up.
“What ordeal? We met, got married, and had sex. It’s not like he locked me up and forced himself on me. I don’t remember what happened, but I’m sure it wasn't forced. So no, not even fifty thousand dollars. Your money, houses, cars, and whatever else is safe. I don’t want it.”
Chris studied you and looked impressed. You tried hard not to take offense. It was LA after all he’d probably met a lot of women who wanted quite a bit more from him than his dick.
“Are you sure? I don’t mind paying you some money,” Chris expressed.
“I’m sure. We will exit this union the same way we came in it, with our own possessions. It’s cool,” you finished.
“Was the sex protected?”
Silence. You and Chris looked at each other and paused. You didn’t remember. Did you use protection?
“You don’t remember,” Sherman filled in.
“Unfortunately, no, but I am religious about protection,” you emphasized.
“Me too!” Chris interjected.
“Any chance you’re pregnant?”
“Not a chance, I’m on birth control. Safe there.”
“Okay. So it’s all pretty simple then. I’ve drawn up the paperwork and also dawn up paperwork for an NDA.”
“NDA?”
“Ms. Giovanni I’m sure you understand Chris is a celebrity and any mention of this could ruin his image. My job is to protect him, his image, and his interests. This NDA is just a precaution to ensure that this all really does go away. You understand,” Sherman cautiously explained.
You could tell he’d done this before. He was an expert at making an accusation about your character a soft jab. You gritted your teeth and tried to contain the bitch inside.
“Got it. Let’s get this done.”
He pushed a stack of papers to you and Chris, and you read through them. Most of the legalese tripped you up, but from what you gathered, it was a straightforward desolation of marriage contract. It stated neither party was seeking anything; there would be no exchange of money, each party would move on with their respective lives and not discuss this with anyone. You took up the pen and hesitated over the line for your name but continued and signed your signature and pushed the paper to Chris. He followed suit and signed.
“Excellent. So, this all goes on smoothly. I’ll file these, and then once I get the final paperwork, I will notify you, Chris, since you live so far away,” Sherman added.
“How long will this take?”
“With annulments, they go through within weeks, but actual divorces take some time. The least amount of time is a month the most is four. Just be sure that once you both get the final copies you sign and post it back to me. Until I receive them nothing is desolated.”
You nodded as did Chris, and then you rose up and shook his hand and walked out of the office. When you stepped out into the cool LA night air, you took a deep breath. You thought you’d have felt like a weight had been lifted off of you, but you didn’t you still felt the same. Chris walked next to you and cleared his throat.
“So what’re your plans?”
“Uh not sure, get back to my hotel and catch a flight out of here.”
“Whatdaya say we grab some dinner before you go. Sort of like one last meal as husband and wife?”
You looked at him and the soft smile on his face and nodded.
“Okay, only because I’m starving.”
“Thank god for that.”
You smiled and followed his outstretched hand that was pointing to the parked car in front of the building. As you approached the car Chris walked around to the passenger side and opened your door. You smiled your gratitude and slipped inside the beautiful azure blue car into the sleek black and white leather interior. You looked around the car and whistled, it was beautiful. Once Chris slipped into the driver’s side, you looked at him.
“Doing well for yourself, huh Captain America?”
He smiled, and you were instantly hypnotized by his white teeth and distracting smile. He shrugged and put the car into gear and sped off down the street. You watched the city lights zip by as the silence filled the car.
“Anything you’re in the mood for?”
“Uh—how about tacos? I love tacos,” you responded.
“Coincidence, I love tacos too, so tacos it is.”
When he turned right, you looked to the steering wheel at his hand. His hands were holding the wheel in a relaxed way, but they weren’t at ten and two, instead one hand was at twelve and the other rested on the side of the door. You loved this stance. You smiled to yourself and bit your bottom lip. Your eyes dropped down to his thighs; they were spread a good length apart and touched the steering wheel. He was tall. You got lost admiring the shape of his legs when a memory overcame you. You were sitting on his lap, and he was sitting on the bed. Your hips moved in a circular motion. Chris dropped his head back with his mouth agape. You heard a low guttural moan escape his lips and you flicked your hips back and forth quicker than before. Chris gripped your hips tighter before he began moving you on him more forcefully. You moaned loudly and arched back to brace yourself on his thighs. The memory faded, and when you came back to reality, Chris was looking at you. You looked away from him and took a few deep breaths.
“You okay?”
“Yep, all good. Never better,” you lied.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“How are they?”
You looked up with a mouthful of tacos with sauces smeared across your lips and taco juice trailing down your fingers. You nodded and held up your thumb to him. Chris smiled and then laughed continued to watch you as you tried to clean up the mess you’d made of yourself.
“Wow. This is a first,” he said.
After you swallowed, wiped your hangs and took a hearty gulp of your tequila sunrise drink, you looked at him. “What’s a first?”
“Oh, you know, a woman eating like you on a date,” he filled in.
You smiled and took another sip of your drink.
“Date?”
Chris stopped smiling, looked away from you, and took several gulps of his beer before he cleared his throat loudly.
“What I meant was—well, you know.”
You snorted and took another bite of your taco.
“I’m not like other women you’ve known. Nothing and no one will stop me from enjoying my favorite food,” you informed with your mouth full not caring the impression you were making.
“I can see that. It’s refreshing. I’m used to women ordering salads and water and then taking small dainty bites even more gingerly sips of water. It always boggled my mind.”
For emphasis, you took another fulfilling bite of your taco and rolled your eyes in the back of your head. He laughed again, you smiled.
“Well, I appreciate you being yourself,” Chris expressed.
“Nothing else for me to be but myself.”
He smiled again and took another bite of his taco. The two of you ate slowly and quietly for a few minutes.
“So you’re a bartender?”
You nodded.
“For how long?”
“Uh—three years,” you responded.
“Wow, you must like it.”
“It pays the bills and pays them well. Plus I’m good at it,” you explained.
“What’s the best drink you make? The one you can make with your eyes closed, knowing where all ingredients are.”
“Uh—I make a mean Mai Tai.”
“Oh, I like Mai Tais.”
“Good to know.”
“So are you bartending to put yourself through school or something?”
“Uh, not really, kind of.”
At his confused expression, you sighed out. “I’m in culinary school and a culinary program.”
Chris’ eyes lit up, and he smiled.
“Really? Wow, that’s impressive. So, you want to be a chef?”
“To begin.”
“Wow. That’s great Vixen. I wish you luck.”
You smiled and stared at him, gaining a new fondness for his sweetness. It was so easy to think you knew celebrities from all the tabloid magazines and rumors that flew around and even their movies, but you really didn’t know them at all. Here you were sitting across from a celebrity and actually getting to know him. You took another sip of your drink.
“Did you always want to be an actor?”
“Yes, and no, in the beginning, I did want to act,” he began.
“And now?”
“Now--,” he trailed off and looked out to the distance before he looked in his plate and took another bite of his taco.
“Now I’m good either way.”
You got the feeling he was going to say something but decided against it. You studied him for a long while.
“Did our situation mess up a relationship for you?”
“Are you asking in a weird way if I’m single?”
He smiled and nodded.
“Guess I am,” he confirmed.
“No, I’m not single. I’m currently married to you,” you joked. He smiled and nodded.
“Other than this, no, there is no one. What about you?”
Chris sighed and shook his head.
“No one serious,” he answered.
“So the rumors are right then.”
“What rumors are those?”
“Oh you know, the ones that say you are enjoying your bachelor status to its full extent,” you gently teased. Chris laughed heartily making you smile.
For the next three hours, you at and drink and kept the conversation going. You joked and laughed without missing a beat as if you’d been old friends. He told you stories from the set of a few of his movies, stories about his childhood, stories about himself, and his experiences in Hollywood, and they were all hilarious. His sense of humor was perfect; he really was funny. The more he made you laugh, the more attracted you felt to him. The more attracted you were to him, the more you wanted to rip his shirt off and sit on his face. The entire time there you found yourself looking over small details of his body, his lips, the muscle in his jaw, his biceps that peeked out from underneath his fitted white t-shirt, and even his big hands. You knew for a fact that big hands did equate to other big things and you wanted to feel it again.
By the time you left the restaurant, it was almost one in the morning, and the two of you were way past tipsy. You laughed loudly as you stepped into the refreshing night air.
“That’s a crazy story,” you said through bouts of laughter.
It took a while for you to be able to calm down, but when you did, you noticed he was staring at you. Your laughter stilled, and all that remained was a small smile painted across your lips as you stared at him too. Neither of you spoke or moved, and it was as if the entire world melted around you only leaving you two as the only people alive. Your heart began to pound more forcefully at a pace that made you take short, shallow breaths. Chris took a step to you and then another until he stood mere feet in front of you. You gulped trying to fight through the lightheadedness.
“I’m having a great time,” Chris said in a small voice. It wasn’t a whisper, but it was close to one.
“Me too.”
“I don’t want it to end,” he added.
You stared deeply into his cornflower blue eyes and felt as if you were free falling.
“Neither do I,” you admitted.
“Would you like to go back to my place?”
You thought about the offer and the possibilities. You weren’t innocent, and you weren’t stupid. You knew what would happen if you went back to his place. You knew exactly what would happen. You had to decide if that was what you wanted. Was he what you wanted tonight?
“It’ll most likely be your last chance, and this time you’ll be conscious enough to remember it.”
You bit your bottom lip, and Chris’ eyes dropped to them, and you saw the desire radiating from them. He wanted you as much as you wanted him. That realization shook you enough to push you to take what you wanted.
“Yes,” you answered. Neither of you moved again, the two of you simply stood there taking in the moment, taking in what was about to happen, what both of you were admitting to wanting — each other.
To Be Continued...
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#Love Maybe Fic#Chris Evans#chris evans x reader#chris evans x you#chris evans x black reader#chris evans x ofc#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans smut#angst fanfic#angst fic#slow burn fic#black fanfiction
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Top 10 Netflix TV Shows to Binge during Quarantine & Chill
To help out my fellow friends in lockdown and so you don’t have to put up the standard Instagram story asking, I’ll be doing a quick countdown of my top 10 tv shows available on Netflix that will hopefully help you all pass this monotonous time.
This goes without saying but I’m going to say it anyways: all opinions are my own and as admittedly these are all very popular shows please feel free to shoot me suggestions to broaden my own horizons!
I’m going to try and create some semblance of order and countdown from 10! So, without further ado…
10. American Horror Story
Okays, so maybe not one if you scare easily although it’s definitely verging more towards the creepy and uncomfortable side than horror. The good thing about this show is if you don’t like the plot, not to worry because the next season is a completely different ball game with a new story, new characters and probably even a different time period, making the show more of an anthology than a series. A nice little link is the use of the same actors each season and if you look closely, you’ll see the Easter eggs and links between!
It remains popular amongst it’s fanbase and although the initial hype that made me jump on the bandwagon in 2011 has eventually died down it’s still one to check out, if at least just for the first three seasons, if you want something a little strange and peculiar.
https://www.netflix.com/title/70210884?s=i&trkid=13747225
9. Gilmore Girls
Set in the little dreamy American town of Stars Hollow with fast-talking sarcastic humour and a coffee-loving mother and daughter bond at the centre. This is one for those of us who appreciate many a cultural reference and enjoys many a love triangle. An easy watch with truly engaging characters you’ll be sad when this show comes to an end… but not to worry they do one more season, A Year in the Life, to wrap everything up with a bow.
Perfect for an easy watch about college, boys, and most complicated of all… family!
https://www.netflix.com/title/70155618?s=i&trkid=13747225
8. Prison Break
A true classic! You’d be hard pressed to find someone that doesn’t consider this show one of the greats. It’s the one your mum’s boyfriend will continue to talk about and recommend time and time again, right? Just me? Well I finally gave in and was caught into the binge that is Wentworth Miller.
We see him play Michael Scofield, a structural engineer who gets himself purposefully incarcerated in order to save his innocent brother Lincoln from death row, with a classic prison escape. If nothing else this show has you on the edge of your seat for the first season and impressed at the continual twists and turns the character relations and plot takes. This is a show you want to see before it is eventually spoiled for you…
https://www.netflix.com/title/70140425?s=i&trkid=13747225
7. You
Although by show of hands Joe Goldberg is decidedly just Dan Humphreys on steroids, I can’t deny that each Boxing Day that the new season was released it was binged in one day. See Joe fall in love and do anything to keep it. Character driven; monologue driven. Binging this show may have you questioning who’s side you’re on once you’re rooting for the murderer and it’ll make you gasp out loud while doing it.
Just don’t get too attached to any of the characters…
https://www.netflix.com/title/80211991?s=i&trkid=13747225
6. Stranger Things
With an entrancing 80s vibe aesthetic we centre around the small town of Hawkins and a group of best friends during the disappearance of their friend Will and the appearance of a young mute girl with a shaved head and some peculiar abilities. As the story unravels, we’re brought into the world of the supernatural and government conspiracies based loosely on some very real and very spooky Soviet Union experiments. You may also be thinking ‘hey, these kids look familiar’ and that’s right they’re in every other show with a similar 80s theme (see: IT and I Am Not Okay With This). Oh, and Winona Ryder.
I can see this show climbing the list when I finally get round to watching that last season…
https://www.netflix.com/title/80057281?s=i&trkid=13747225
5. Peaky Blinders
I’m just going to say it, it’s cool. What gang movie or show isn’t? We see the Shelby family conduct some dodgy business in 1919 Birmingham as part of the gang, the Peaky Blinders (based however loosely on the real Peaky Blinders street gang in Birmingham). Perfect for fans of DiCaprio’s Gangs of New York. Run ins with the law, underhand criminal happenings in the back room of a bar, gang wars. Have I said enough? Cillian Murphy in a suit perhaps?
The only thing that stops this show being further up the list is despite the overall plot being capturing, each individual episode runs slightly slow, although that won’t affect the awe-feeling at the end of each one.
If nothing else you’ll really get off on the fun of saying ‘By order, of the Peaky focking Blinders!’ again and again until you drive even yourself crazy.
https://www.netflix.com/title/80002479?s=i&trkid=13747225
4. Suits
This one nearly made me change my whole career path and choose law for a degree.
With this show you’ve really got to binge to keep up with the legal jargon but it’s oh so worth it. Mike Ross, an extremely smart college dropout is questionably hired by Harvey Specter, high flying lawyer for a prestigious New York law firm, all while hiding Mike’s secret. And wearing lots and lots of very nice suits.
You’ll be surprised how fast you get sucked into the daily going-on of the law office. Plus, you get to see Meghan Markle (fun fact: who’s real name is Rachel!) pre-royalty vibes. Sleek, sexy, sophisticated, sharp-dialogue and by episode three you’ll be singing the Greenback Boogie and buying your own ‘You Just Got Litt Up!’ mug by the end of the week.
https://www.netflix.com/title/70195800?s=i&trkid=13747225
3. Atypical
A truly honest coming of age story as Sam Gardner, a teenager on the autism spectrum, attempts to navigate high school, family, friends, love and… penguins? This is one where you’ll just have to trust me and watch to understand.
https://www.netflix.com/title/80117540?s=i&trkid=13747225
2. The Vampire Diaries
Now we’re getting down to the nitty gritty. Okays, yes, if you’re a regular binger then chances are you’ve already saw this show. This show has been on my favourites list since the day it aired in 2008. The first adaptation ever (it’s the English student in me, sorry) that was better than the book and with 171 episodes it’s the ultimate binge.
Vampires (not the sparkly kind), witches, werewolves and love triangles all clash in the small town of Mystic Falls. Granted it sounds like a chick-flick, but I know just as many boy friends as girls that have got sucked (ha, get it?) into this rollercoaster. This is my number one recommendation to anyone who asks for a new show and I’ll say now what I always say: give this show a go and once you get over the cheesiness of the angsty story-telling from the beginning of Season One, then it’ll be worth every moment.
https://www.netflix.com/title/70143860?s=i&trkid=13747225
1. Friends
Oh… my… god!
The one where it’s controversial.
You probably love it, hate it or if you’re a culchie then you’re most likely discovering it for the first time (which still baffles me). If you didn’t grow up with this show on E4 nine times a day before Comedy Central stole it then I do feel sorry for you. A truly iconic show and if you truly believe that loving it is not a personality trait then I beg to differ.
Six friends learn about life, family, careers and relationships in New York city.
With 10 seasons it’s the ultimate binge and will always place my number one!
https://www.netflix.com/title/70153404?s=i&trkid=13747225
Netflix Honourable mentions:
Money Heist (Season 1 and maybe season 2, we didn’t really need more after that)
Brooklyn Nine-Nine (Because obviously: nine nine!)
South Park (yeah I know, I was against this show for years but recently just caved and #noregrats)
Lucifer (sexy devil, need I say more?)
Rick and Morty (which was originally on the list but got bumped because I’m just watching the same episodes again and again until they’ve lost all meaning now)
I hope this has helped a few people out and cut down the endless hours of scrolling before just watching something you’ve saw time and time again!
Well that’s all folks! Stay safe and happy binging! ✌🏼
#netflix#lifestyle guide#blogging#social distancing#the vampire diaries#prison break#ahs#american horror story#gilmore girls#suits#atypical#netflix top 10#binge#quarantine and chill
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Dooferella Ch 2
Summary: Heinz has to read to children at the local library as community service, but things go awry when Heinz uses a Fairy Tale-inator to spice up the story of Cinderella. Unfortunately, something malfunctions and Heinz is transported into a strange fairy tale world! Now Dooferella, he’s stuck with a long list of chores for his parents and goody two shoes brother until a summons from the kingdom’s headquarters arrives….
Ch 2: Make the Fire, Fix the Breakfast, Wash the Dishes, Do the Mopping
“A little clumsy today, are we?”
Heinz groaned, which quickly turned into a cough that made his entire chest ache. That smug, self-assured voice was the absolute last thing he wanted to hear.
“Shut up, Roger. I’ll ask for your opinion when I want it. Which is usually never,” Heinz muttered, folding his arms across his chest petulantly. “Besides, you’re terrible at keeping your fireplace clean. It’s like you let five years of dust build up in there.”
“I believe that would be your duty. My job is to play the gracious host for the social gathering tonight. And I require this manor to be nice and tidy for my esteemed guests. You know how much Mother can’t tolerate filthiness. Now, when you’ve finished with the fireplace, sweep the parlor and dust the bannisters. There are plenty of other areas you’ve neglected for the past few days, but focus on the parlor for now, Dooferella,” Roger continued.
He checked the time with an expensive golden pocket watch, which Heinz rolled his eyes at. Digital watches were a thing now. There was no need to be so pretentiously old-fashioned. While Roger always wore nice suits in public, it was just weird to see him in a fancy green dinner jacket when nobody else was around.
Heinz scowled. “You’re not the boss of me. And my name’s not Dooferella!”
But Roger only raised an annoyingly perfect eyebrow, as if he were just observing a persistent fly. “You spend far too much time tinkering with your silly machines,” he chided. “Your head can only take so much damage.”
Roger clasped his white-gloved hands behind his back and left the room, leaving Heinz alone with a dusty fireplace, broom, and a pile of rags.
“Joke’s on you, Roger!” Heinz called, not caring if Roger heard him or not. “Someday I’m gonna overthrow you and order you around like a lowly servant! See how you like it! And guess what? I can leave whenever I want thanks to…the Fairy Tale-inator!”
He opened the flap of his lab coat, but his fingers brushed against his black turtleneck instead, which was somewhat ragged from the rough winds that had battered him around earlier.
His lab coat was gone. And so was the Fairy Tale-inator.
“Right, I put the Fairy Tale-inator on the chair. Which is back in the library. On the other side of the portal. Curse you, lack of foresight!” Heinz shook his fist in the air out of habit. “And curse the portal too for stealing my lab coat!”
He’d just have to build another Fairy Tale-inator.
“This shouldn’t be too hard. I can build another Fairy Tale-inator and get out of here in half an hour tops!” Heinz exclaimed. “Then actually make it home in time for my scheme. I don’t want Perry the Platypus to turn one of my complaints on his occasional non-punctuality back on me.”
----------------
Okay, so there was a flaw in his plan.
The Fairy Tale-inator was powered by a combination of batteries and spite.
While Heinz could easily provide the spite, there was a significant lack of batteries in the manor. Also, Roger’s not-so-humble abode seemed impractical to live in. Heinz got lost at least five times on the way to the kitchen, then broke an expensive Ming Dynasty vase when he tried to retrace his steps. He swept the broken pieces under a lush Persian rug and convinced himself that Roger probably had a ton of fancy vases and wouldn’t notice if he was down a fancy knickknack or two.
Heinz turned left on another long corridor, balling his fists when he came face to face with a painting of Roger playing kickball.
“Sure, he gets recognition for a sport nobody except Mother cares about, and I get nothing for cup stacking,” Heinz scowled. “There’s more practical applications for cup stacking than kickball. I can’t think of any right now, but I’m sure there’s something!”
As he walked down a flight of stairs, he smelled something delicious and rich, with just a hint of cinnamon and rosemary. His stomach rumbled.
“Alright, just a quick hunger detour,” Heinz conceded. “Then I’ll look for batteries. And possibly find a phone. Cause I don’t have my cell anymore. I’m cursing you a second time, portal!”
The kitchen was full of servants, each of them meticulously preparing various food dishes that Heinz didn’t recognize. He was pretty sure each dish would have some weird French name he’d never be able to pronounce.
Heinz reached for one of the pastries on a large platter, but something hard and flat smacked the back of his hand.
“That hurts!” Heinz protested, cradling his stinging hand against his body.
“Exactly why I did it,” the maid raised the spatula again. “If you hadn’t skipped lunch to work on another ridiculous doohickey, you would actually be focused on cleaning the parlor like Lord Roger ordered and not on causing trouble.”
“Lord Roger? What, being universally admired isn’t good enough for him anymore? Now he’s gotta be worshipped too?” Heinz complained.
The maid rolled her eyes. “I don’t like this job any more than you. I’m just the one who keeps everything organized so the other maids can have a place of employment and the socialites can flirt with the world’s handsomest bachelor at dinner parties.”
Given how the other maids were giggling over their handsome employer, Heinz was just glad he found the only other sane person in this stupid manor.
Besides, if Roger was so rich, he should at least give them better uniforms.
Like a lab coat, for instance.
“And no, none of us worship Lord Roger. It’s just a title. I can’t speak for the socialites though,” the maid shrugged. “Let me guess. You hit your head and need a brief refresher on stuff again.”
“Why does everyone think I hit my head?” Heinz scowled. “I’ve been concussion-free for the past month!”
The smell of the pastries was too delicious to resist, and Heinz reached for the platter again.
This time, the maid just sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. You can have two, on the condition that you clean the parlor afterwards. The dinner party starts at seven tonight, so make sure it’s done by then.”
Heinz snagged two pastries, which flaked in his hand as he bit down on them. He had to hand it to Roger. He definitely knew how to hire good cooks.
“I can do that,” Heinz agreed. “You got a phone? I gotta order some batteries for my Fairy Tale-inator because I couldn’t find any in this house. What’s up with that? Batteries are a lifesaver. It’s like you’re living in medieval Drusselstein! Though there really isn’t much of a difference between medieval and modern Drusselstein, since they’ve both never had the wonders of indoor plumbing. If I have time maybe I could rig up some Sweep-inator or Featherduster-inator up and have the parlor clean in a jiffy.”
“Okay, now you’re just making words up,” the maid sighed. “No idea what a phone is and I don’t really care.”
“You know, a phone! That thing you use to call people so you’re not an antisocial shut-in! It’s got a bunch of buttons with numbers?”
Heinz would’ve pulled out his own cell phone as a reference, but the jerk portal had stolen it too.
“Melanie, I’m almost done with the roast beef!” one of the maids shouted, grunting as she hefted a large pot onto the counter. “Leave the weirdo alone so you can make sure this can satisfy Lord Roger’s taste!”
“Alright, you’ve had your food,” Melanie snapped as she pushed him out of the kitchen. Heinz grabbed a muffin from a nearby counter, shoving it into his mouth before Melanie could force him to put it down. “Get to the parlor and let the rest of us work in peace.”
“Funny how your name is Melanie, cause Roger’s got a secretary with a name like yours. Though maybe it was Melody or Mariana in her case. I know it started with ‘M’,” Heinz said, his words somewhat garbled by the crumbs in his mouth.
Melanie shoved a broom into his hands and forcefully pointed upstairs, tapping the spatula against her thigh as if itching for an excuse to use it.
Heinz scurried back to the parlor, not wanting to be on the receiving end of Melanie’s spatula for a second time.
----------
Half an hour later, Heinz developed a burning hatred for mahogany. The mantle was mahogany. The upholstery was mahogany. The bannisters were mahogany.
Everything seemed to be made of the luxurious, expensive wood.
Heinz sneezed as he wiped a thin layer of dust off a couch leg. “This isn’t gonna be good for my allergies,” he muttered. “Not to mention, Roger totally lied. I don’t know why he was saying this place was neglected. Looks fine to me. But I guess that’s the nice thing about being the boss. Make your underlings perform menial tasks. When I’m ruler of the Tri-State Area, I’m going to make Roger dust the inator room. Which is going to be huge. Probably gonna need another wing on City Hall for that.”
The repetitive work of dusting, polishing, and waxing the wood wouldn’t be as bad with the appropriate soundtrack. But since he couldn’t get cell service in this place to contact the Danville Chorus Girl Union, he’d just have to provide his own music.
Good thing he knew the Love Handel Reunion Album with Special Thanks to the Flynn-Fletcher Family by heart. The title was a bit long, but hey, it was the best album they put out since Albuquerque ’83.
He mopped the floor to the tune of You Snuck Your Way Right Into My Heart, making a mental note to hire the band for another musical number within a flashback. They did a good job with it the first time around, not even complaining about the copyright infringement.
Just as he finished the second verse, heavy footsteps thundered on the staircase, accompanied by loud barking.
Heinz knew that cold, unfeeling stomp, even if he hadn’t heard it since his teenage years.
He fumbled with the mop handle he’d been using as a microphone, his knuckles turning chalk-white from his tight grip. He could almost pretend that the mop handle would prevent his heart from leaping out of his throat.
Heinz was aware that he was just moving the mop in small, repetitive circles and not getting any actual cleaning done, but the motion prevented him from looking at the staircase.
It was bad enough that he was stuck as Roger’s servant, and now his father had to be here too.
This would definitely set him back on the whole ‘make my family respect me’ thing.
A small nose poked around the corner of a fancy cabinet, and a small mouse crawled away from its hiding spot, stopping occasionally to scent the air.
Then a dog growled, which sent the entire pack into a chorus of excited barking. The mouse scampered back to the cabinet.
For a brief moment, Heinz heard the scrabble of paws on the freshly mopped tile, then a white blur slammed into the bucket, splashing soap and water all over the floor and couch. The rest of the dogs gathered around the cabinet, sniffing around the empty space between the wood and floor and barking at the mouse as if that would somehow lure it out of hiding.
The entire pack of dogs were large, white spitzenhounds that looked exactly like Only Son.
“Whoa, how many games of Poke the Goozim with a Stick did you have to play to get all those dogs?” Heinz asked before he could stop himself.
“HALT!” Father roared.
Heinz stiffened, the mop falling to the floor with an echoing clatter. The dogs whined and curled their tails between their legs, slinking back to Father with their heads down. While the command didn’t seem directed at him, he still instinctively snapped upright into a militaristic stance, unable to control his body’s reaction from that primal fear of harsh punishment.
Father’s hair and beard were white from advanced age, but it didn’t relieve Heinz’s fear of his wrath. Father jabbed a bony finger into Heinz’s chest.
Heinz didn’t make eye contact. It would only make him angrier.
“Get rid of him, Dooferella,” Father pointed to the soaking wet dog that had knocked over the bucket. The wet dog nosed Father’s hand, but that only earned him a harsh slap to the nose.
The rest of the dogs gathered around Father as he marched out of the room, leaving a trail of muddy bootprints behind him.
“Disappointment,” Father sneered, the word echoing off the high walls. Roger’s manor had some really good acoustics.
Heinz wasn’t sure if the word was being directed at him or the dog.
A mess of muddy footprints, soap, and grimy water stained the parlor, erasing all of Heinz’s progress. The couch cushions were discolored, and the water and mud mixed to create an unsightly brown puddle.
So this is what Cinderella must’ve felt like.
It wasn’t a good feeling either.
#dooferella fanfiction#phineas and ferb#heinz doofenshmirtz#roger doofenshmirtz#doof's parents#fanfiction
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Books read in July
After I read How to Find Love in a Bookshop, I searched the library’s catalogue for other titles containing “bookshop” or “bookstore”. I was curled up in bed with a bad cold at the time, which meant I ended up choosing a bunch of books whose covers or synopses would have, on a different day, put me off. And that worked out rather well!
But afterwards I felt like I didn’t get the right balance between contemporary fiction and fantasy this month.
Favourite cover: Minor Mage by T. Kingfisher.
Still reading: The Hazel Wood by Melissa Albert.
Next up: Mort by Terry Pratchett. Maybe The Queens of Innis Lear by Tessa Gratton.
(Longer reviews and ratings are on LibraryThing. And also Dreamwidth.)
– (they’ve taken away page breaks) –
Things a Map Won’t Show You: stories from Australia & Beyond, edited by Susan La Marca and Pam Macintyre: I borrowed this because I recognised some of the names involved. I liked bits and pieces of it but nothing really stood out. Maybe Peta Freestone’s “Milford Sound”, for the setting. According to the introduction, the stories and poems were chosen “with the curriculum in mind and for their appeal to Year Seven and Eight readers”. That’s a valid reason but I suspect that approach is unlikely to result in a collection that would really appeal to me, not me now and not even when I was a young teenager.
A Thousand Sisters: The Heroic Airwomen of the Soviet Union in World War II by Elizabeth Wein: This is AMAZING. It is aimed at young people, and I wondered if I’d find the writing style too simplistic, but it was just remarkably accessible. I knew bits about Russia’s history but this gave me a much more comprehensive understanding of the culture and politics these women grew up with, and how Russia came to have three regiments of airwomen at a point in time when other countries wouldn’t let women fly into war. The rest of the book is just as fascinating and surprising. Wein knows how to tell a story.
How to Find Love in a Bookshop by Veronica Henry: This is about Emilia, who inherits her father’s bookshop in a picturesque Cotswold village, and the bookshop’s customers. It doesn’t shy away from Emilia’s grief but otherwise is very much a cosy, optimistic story in which friends are made, relationships are mended, mistakes are overcome and everything turns out all right. Which definitely has its appeal. I wanted just a few more sharp edges -- or else slightly more uncertainty -- so that everyone’s happy endings felt more realistic. (I keep brainstorming ways that could have been managed.) Although I didn’t love this book, there was a lot I liked about it.
The Masquaraders by Georgette Heyer (narrated by Ruth Sillers): This is ridiculous but still quite entertaining. Either I missed something or Heyer doesn’t really do a great job of explaining why Prudence and her brother Robin need to be in disguise, nor why they’ve decided the best way to do this is by crossdressing. The key to enjoying this book was to just roll with it. Also Prue’s romantic interest is a type Heyer writes so well: perceptive, unflappable, competent, with a sense of humour and an appreciation for level-headedness in others. Sensible people pushed into madcap adventures is something Heyer has a flair for.
The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle: It’s much more dreamlike than I was expecting, in a similar vein to Patricia A. McKillip’s fantasy. I was emotionally invested only in flickers and bursts, but I appreciated the way it plays with, and comments on, fairytales. Quests may not simply be abandoned; prophecies may not be left to rot like unpicked fruit; unicorns may go unrescued for a very long time, but not forever. The happy ending cannot come in the middle of the story.
The Bookstore by Deborah Meyler: Esme, a British scholarship student studying art history at Columbia, discovers she’s pregnant and gets a job at a quirky secondhand bookshop. I would have found some of her choices -- and the book itself -- terribly frustrating, except I really liked the bookshop and Esme’s narration. I liked her quotes and references and her enthusiasm and her observations, especially those about living in New York and about the shop -- this is a story with a vivid sense of place. Esme’s naivety and optimism is both understandable and believable, and I wanted to see her finally, properly, free of her awful boyfriend.
The “Happy Ever After Bookshop” books by Annie Darling:
The Little Bookshop of Lonely Hearts: If I hadn’t already read the second book about the Happy Ever After bookshop and liked it a lot, I probably wouldn’t have bothered reading this. The romantic interest annoyed me -- he’s not a bad match for Posy, but I’d find him infuriating in person and I didn’t want to read about him. Fortunately the book is just from Posy’s POV. I enjoyed the Britishness, and the bits about running a bookshop. I particularly liked Posy’s relationship with her younger teenaged brother, whom she has responsibility for. And I was pleased the romance bookshop stocks appropriate YA and mystery titles.
True Love at the Lonely Hearts Bookshop: I was expecting it to turn into the sort of romance which annoys me. To my delight, it did not! Verity loves her noisy family, her nosy friends, her job in a bookshop and reading romances but she believes she isn’t suited to being in a romantic relationship. She reluctantly agrees to a fake-dating situation to avoid friends trying to set her up. I loved the way this story shows Verity being an introvert, and her obvious love for Pride and Prejudice. And this has all the things I like about fake-dating without too much cringe-worthy deception.
Crazy in Love at the Lonely Hearts Bookshop: I have less in common with Nina than I do with her colleagues: she’s into make-up, tattoos and Wuthering Heights. But it was interesting seeing why she’s embraced both Wuthering Heights and her own particular style so fiercely -- she’s finding her own path, one that differs from what her conservative working class family expected. Some of the resolutions came about a bit too easily. However, I liked getting a different perspective on the bookshop, I enjoyed bits of her romance with Noah, and I share some of Nina’s fascination with the Bronte sisters.
A Winter Kiss on Rochester Mews: Mattie runs the tearooms attached to the Happy Ever After bookshop. She is delighted about living above the bookshop, but not so impressed about her new flatmate. I’m not a fan of the crazy commercialism of Christmas, but really enjoyed reading about it here -- probably because the story recognises that not everybody loves it. And, given the weather, I was in the mood for something wintry. Other things I liked: the vivid portrayal of the challenges of working “in a customer-facing environment over Christmas”; the details about Mattie’s baking; and the intelligent commentary about romance novels and romantic relationships.
Allegra in Three Parts by Suzanne Daniel: Eleven year old Allegra lives with one grandmother, next door to the other, while her father lives in above the garage. Allegra knows her grandmothers love her, but they are very different. “Sometimes I wish they could just love me less and take what's left over and put it into liking each other a little bit more.” The initial mystery and conflict were slightly stronger than the answers and aftermath. But it’s an interesting portrayal of growing up in Sydney in the 70s, the women’s liberation movement, and of a family dealing with grief. I read it in practically one sitting.
We Rule the Night by Claire Eliza Bartlett (narrated by Chloe Cannon): Revna’s father is a traitor. Linné’s father is a general. Revna is discovered protecting herself with illegal magic during an air-raid. Linné is discovered after three years fighting at the front disguised as a boy. They’re both sent to a new women’s Night Raiders regiment, where, if they are to survive this war, they have to learn to fly together. This is tense and captivating -- and nuanced. Magic is wondrous but also confronting, the Union is unjust but contains things worth defending, loyalties are not always predictable, difficult people can become valued friends, and not everything is neatly resolved.
The Way Past Winter by Kiran Millwood Hargrave: In the fifth year of winter, Mila and her sisters wake to find their brother has left. Sanna believes Oskar left them willingly, like their father once did, but Mila is convinced that Oskar was taken by last night’s unsettling visitors -- and is determined to rescue him. I didn’t find this as emotional and compelling as Hargrave’s previous books. I don’t know if that’s because this is a simpler narrative or because I didn’t listen to the audio book -- a good narrator adds liveliness and emotion. But Hargrave’s prose is lovely and I liked the fairytale quality this story has.
Grace After Henry by Eithne Shortall: I really enjoyed Love in Row 27, so I borrowed Shortall’s other novel. After her boyfriend dies, Grace keeps seeing him everywhere. Then she meets a man who looks unnervingly like Henry -- a long-lost relative of Henry’s she did not know about. This story is funny and touching. I didn’t expect it to be so compelling, nor make me so invested in Grace’s relationship with Henry. There’s a strong sense of history and of place -- it was interesting to read about contemporary Dublin. There are unexpected and hopeful developments in Grace’s life. But mostly, it’s just very sad.
Famous in a Small Town by Emma Mills: Sophie loves her friends, her high school’s marching band and her small town. She has an idea for how the band could raise money -- enlisting the help of a famous country singer. I liked Sophie’s deep sense of belonging and how much she cares about things. She’s very kind in a way that is realistic and realistically complicated. Her friends are very supportive, but believably so. They all have flaws and make mistakes and have their secrets. I really enjoyed this story about friendship and summer (and it was a good choice after reading something sad).
Can’t Escape Love by Alyssa Cole: I’ve tried a couple of Cole’s novels and they didn’t appeal to me -- I wouldn’t have considered this novella if I hadn't seen a positive review. It’s fun and fandom-y and diverse. Reggie contacts an old internet acquaintance after she discovers his puzzle livestreams are no longer online. I liked how it’s very clear that Reggie’s disability has a significant impact on her daily life, but has nothing to do with her current problems. And, for Gus, being autistic isn’t ever an obstacle to a relationship with Reggie. I would have liked to read more but this still satisfying.
The Orphans of Raspay, a novella in the World of the Five Gods by Lois McMaster Bujold: Penric’s ship is captured by pirates and he is thrown in a hold with a couple of young girls from Raspay. As always, I enjoyed Pen’s interactions with Desdemona. I would have enjoyed the story even more had there been more significant character interactions -- the girls aren’t quite old enough to play a very active role in escape plans but are old enough that, in terms of emotional support, they’re not very demanding. I’d like to see Pen challenged more. But this is still a solid adventure. I’m very glad that Bujold hasn’t finished telling stories about Pen and Des.
Minor Mage by T. Kingfisher (Ursula Vernon): Oliver, a twelve year old minor mage with an armadillo familiar, is sent by his village on a perilous journey to the mountains to bring back rain. There’s some dispute over whether this is a children’s book -- Vernon thought it was, her editor was adamant it wasn’t. It feelslike a children’s book to me, even when Oliver has to deal with ghuls, bandits and murderers. (There have always been children’s books which have been too dark and scary for some kids.) The tone is dryly humorous, the armadillo is a delight and I never doubted that Oliver would succeed.
#Herenya reviews books#Lois McMaster Bujold#T. Kingfisher#Claire Eliza Bartlett#Elizabeth Wein#Georgette Heyer#Veronica Henry#Annie Darling#Peter S. Beagle#Emma Mills#Kiran Millwood Hargrave
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Steven Universe Shield
A prop I made for Halloween. Finished today. Two days of work. Since I was winging this for the second half of the build I’ll be admitting my errors, so you know what not to do.
Do note that I was going for passable, rather than a perfect replica of the shield. Mostly due to my limited skill and equally limited funds.
Sorry, I didn’t document every step, I only figured I should when I was in the later stages.
Start with these instructions for making a Captain America Shield, following only up to step 12.
https://www.instructables.com/id/Flying-Captain-America-Shield/
Except you don’t have to use coloured duct-tape due to the painting that will come later, all regular silver will do.
Next, add masking tape to the top, at least three layers, Layer one should criss-coss, to make a union jack, or asterisk, shape. An X on top of a +.
The second Layer should be vertical strips.
The third layer should be horizontal strips.
Do make sure all the strips are long enough so that they can be wrapped around the edge and stick onto the back side of the shield, it helps them be more secure. All of this is because duct-tape is supposed to be water repellant and spray paint may not adhere to the surface.
After this should come the painting. Spray Paint, I found a Fluorescent Pink on Amazon. It may seem too bright to some, but it seems to be the colour most other people choose on their replica shields.
A nice, thick, coating. While this dries, you can begin working on the stencil for the shield. When it’s dry, add a second coat to better cover the masking tape.
Not an easy task. I couldn’t find stencils online, so had to hand draw this using an image of Steven’s shield for reference.
Basic cardstock, A4 size, four pieces attached with masking tape on the front and back.
The size of the shield should come to 56 inches, give or take. Always make sure you have the size of your shield noted down. Pencil, tied to a string, attached to a pin in the middle will give you a nice circle.
Reduce the size of the string by about an inch (I went a little larger, so I know this to be wrong) and draw a second circle inside the first.
Next, I made the centre circle, which was just drawing around an everyday mug. Once that circle was in place, it helped me make the rose design. Draw three straight lines at 11 o’clock, 7 o’clock, and 3 o’clock spots and you can carefully draw lines to attach the three of them.
Keep an eraser on hand and it should go without saying that you should draw in pencil. Gentle curves, take your time and redraw until it looks close to the reference picture.
The spiral can be done easier if you can access a bendy ruler. Also known as a Flexible Curve Ruler. It’s a 12-inch strip of round or rectangular rubber or PVC, usually with a metal wire core, so it can be bent and stay in that shape. Found in most office supply stores. Or, if you don’t have one you can do what I did and make it with a combination of a string as a guideline, and a lot of slow, careful, freehand.
This will be one of the most time-consuming steps.
Using a craft knife and a cutting board, cut out the shield along the inner edge. Cut out the ring along the outer edge and save this for later.
The following is something you shouldn’t do. Taping the central stencil to the shield will not work as the flat surface does not match with the domed shield at all.
Attempting to spray around the stencil in order to create the outer edge of the shield will only result in a messy, uneven border.
For the outer edge of the shield, I chose a spraypaint with the title of Lake for its colour shade. It looked more blue in its amazon picture but, as you can see here, it came out more green. It’s the downside of shopping online for supplies.
A much better thing to do it to create a ring of masking tape. It’s best done by placing the outer ring from the stencil above onto the shield and running along its inner border. Very time consuming but necessary for a cleaner border.
Carefully spraying the edges of the shield will result in this. Some of the paint may mist onto the pink.
While you can do this next step, it is something of a waste of time, as I discovered. I’ll be telling you a better solution later, around the time I figured it out.
What I did was place the ring over the green, to act as something of a shield, and spray the pink again, to cover up the green which had misted onto the pink. It worked well enough, but some pink did land on the very edges of the shield, spoiling the flawless green. At the time I chose to come back to this later.
While All the paint is drying you can start cutting out the stencil. At first, I thought to take this in stages, cutting out a bit at a time, but I quickly found that cutting out the whole thing allows it to sit on the shield much better. Placing loops of masking tape on the undersides of the stencil will better fix it to the surface of the shield for a tighter fit and better protection against the paint escaping the edges.
Before placing the stencil on the shield make sure that the paint is dry. Next peel away the masking tape which had separated the pink from the green. No matter how carefully you do it, some paint will be peeled away. Don’t worry about this, it’s fixable. This is the same fix that will work when you tape down the stencil and will likely peel away some paint when the stencil is removed.
Sadly I did not photo the next step.
You take a plastic cup and a paintbrush. You spray the spray paint into the cup until a sizeable puddle gathers in the bottom of the cup. You can then use this as a normal paint and simply paint the gaps where the paint has peeled away.
It’s also how we will cover any paint which has misted over onto the other sections of the shield.
Do use a different cup and different paintbrush for each colour. Washing them out with hot water doesn’t clean them enough and you’ll end up contaminating one colour with another. Stronger cleaners like white spirit or turpentine will clean the brushes but it takes time and I was working to get it done as soon as possible.
A 1-inch or a 1/2-inch brush will suffice.
What we see here is the beginning of the spiral, when I was trying to take it in stages, one bit at a time, in the hopes of getting some accuracy. I figured quickly that actually cutting the whole thing and placing the whole spiral onto the shield leads to better accuracy.
Note the ring piece is still in place to keep the green clear of the spray paint from the spiral segment. You can’t paint it again after your done to cover any misting that happens to make it through.
The colour of the spray paint I bought was called Amanita. It’s close to flesh coloured and is probably not the right shade of pink. Again, it’s the downside of buying supplies online. It looked fine on its Amazon picture.
When you’ve cut out the stencil, save the circle from the centre and use a large loop of masking tape to affix it to the middle of the shield for the- I’ll call it the- gem-space.
Spray with the nozzle aimed straight down, it can stop the paint getting under some of the edges of the stencil and spreading further than you need to.
After the spiral portion has dried, peel away the stencil and you should, more or less, have something resembling the above.
Using the cup and paintbrush method can cover any spreading, patch any peeled paint and cover any droplets that have landed on a different colour.
In the final stages, you need a permanent marker, some white card and glue. The white card makes the glint of light on the gem and the black marker makes the colours really pop and stand out more.
You may spot a slight purple shade on the 7 o’clock position on the shield. This is where I learned, the hard way, to use sperate brushes and cups. The green and pink mixed into purple and it was impossible to cover up with further layers of pink, the darker colour always bled through. Lucky it was just a small spot.
To finish the whole thing, spray with a Spray Paint Gloss - Clear Acrylic. As you can see, it helps to add a shine to the finished product and adds a layer of protection to the whole thing against some general wear and tear. I can also guarantee that it adds waterproofing against a light drizzle, at least. I’m unwilling to test on a heavier rain.
Like I said, I wasn’t going for a perfect replica of Steven’s shield, what I was aiming for was something that was passable enough to be recognised as Steven’s shield. I think I achieved that quite well and so did others. I’ve received a few compliments on it and people seem impressed when I tell them that I made it instead of bought it.
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The Lady of the Rivers
If you’ve spent more than three days in the Jonsa fandom (or GoT fandom at large), you’ve probably picked up by now that GRRM has based his tale heavily on myth (I AM SHOOKETH, @ladyandtheghost), much on history, and specifically on the events surrounding the Wars of the Roses, a series of wars in 15th century England fought between two major houses, Lancaster and York, as they wrestled for control of the crown.
Much and more has been written on the subject, all of it just a quick Google away, so I don’t feel the need to elaborate any further for the moment. However, there is one aspect of this comparison that I would like to focus on, and how it specifically relates to Jonsa, so stick around, because things could get interesting!
Around the time that I fell down the ASOIAF/GoT rabbit hole, I chanced upon a great show called The White Queen which was airing on STARZ.
(please don’t ask why the poster is all in black. That’s something I’d like to know as well.)
The one-season, ten-episode show is based on a book of the same name by Philippa Gregory. She, in turn, based her writings on the historical events surrounding Elizabeth Woodville, the woman who would eventually go on to marry Edward IV of York, thereby becoming Queen of England, and matriarch of a line of rulers that would eventually end with Elizabeth I.
Many have declaimed on the inaccuracy and incorrect portrayal of the books and show mentioned above, and for the most part, I tend to agree. But for the purposes of this meta, the information I intend to use, while referred to in Gregory’s work, has been confirmed by Wikipedia (I know!) and other sources of equivalent credence.
Besides the titular White Queen, there was another important character present in the book/show and history, namely, Jacquetta of Luxembourg, Countess Rivers, wife first to John of Lancaster, 1st Duke of Bedford (d. 1435), then to Sir Richard Woodville, 1st Earl Rivers, and mother to Elizabeth (and 13 other children, who, for the purposes of this meta shall remain nameless).
During her short marriage to John of Lancaster, brother to Henry V, she was firmly allied with House Lancaster. However, following the Lancastrian defeat at the Battle of Towton, she and her second husband, Richard Woodville, sided with the House of York.
Now, all this would be very interesting if we were looking for more information on the Wars of the Roses, which I don’t know about you, but I’m writing a Jonsa-esque meta here, so let’s move on.
Jacquetta of Luxembourg wasn’t just any old lady. She was the the eldest daughter of Peter I of Luxembourg, Count of Saint-Pol, Conversano and Brienne, and his wife Margaret of Baux. Incidentally, her uncle, John II of Luxmebourg was head of the military campaign that captured Joan of Arc.
But here’s the deal: Don’t ask where, or why, or how it’s even possible, but the Luxembourgs claimed descent from from a legendary water deity known as Melusine, or Melusina.
“The fairy Melusina, also, who married Guy de Lusignan, Count of Poitou, under condition that he should never attempt to intrude upon her privacy, was of this latter class. She bore the count many children, and erected for him a magnificent castle by her magical art. Their harmony was uninterrupted until the prying husband broke the conditions of their union, by concealing himself to behold his wife make use of her enchanted bath. Hardly had Melusina discovered the indiscreet intruder, than, transforming herself into a dragon, she departed with a loud yell of lamentation, and was never again visible to mortal eyes; although, even in the days of Brantome, she was supposed to be the protectress of her descendants, and was heard wailing as she sailed upon the blast round the turrets of the castle of Lusignan the night before it was demolished.”
-The Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border
Now, WHY does this look so familiar???
Oh.....right.....
Anyway, this Jacquetta-Melusine connection is quite heavily expanded upon in the book and show, portraying various spells and schemes woven by the Woodville women for their own ends, as well as that of the kingdom. In fact, during Edward IV’s captivity, Jacquetta was actually accused and later exonerated for witchcraft on the basis of ‘an image of lead made like a man of arms of the length of a man’s finger broken in the middle and made fast with a wire, saying that it was made by [Jacquetta] to use with witchcraft and sorcery’. It’s worth to note that Jacquetta, and later Elizabeth (a suspected sorceress herself) made no mention of Melusine. Their magic was of an entirely different sort. However, the connection is still present.
So, if by now, all the bells are ringing in your head and you know where this is going, congratulations! If not, let me break it down.
The Woodville-Yorks claim descent from Melusine, the water goddess. Sir Richard Woodville holds the title, 1st Earl Rivers. Who is a descendant of that house and granddaughter to the above-mentioned Jacquetta of Luxembourg? Elizabeth of York, wife of Henry VII.
Which family represents the water/river connection in our story? DING DING DING!
“Let the kings of winter have their cold crypt under the earth. The Tullys drew their strength from the river, and it was to the river they returned when their lives had run their course”
- A Storm of Swords, Catelyn IV
Who is the scheming, politically savvy matriarch descended from that house? Catelyn Tully-Stark. And who is the daughter of said house whom we constantly parallel to Elizabeth of York? Sansa Stark, (all fingers and toes crossed) future wife to Jon (Snow, Stark, Targaryen, take your pick), rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.
credit to @sardoniyx for this work of art!
Where is the Tully connection to magic, you ask? Do not fear, for there is one, and here it is:
Thank you to @marydri for pointing this one out to me and explaining it :)
“He found himself remembering tales he had first heard as a child at Casterly Rock, of mad Lady Lothston who bathed in tubs of blood and presided over feasts of human flesh within these very walls.”
A Feast for Crows, Jaime III
Who is this mad Lady Lothston and what does she have to do with the Tullys of Riverrun?
Danelle Lothston, also known as Mad Danelle, was Lady of Harrenhal and head of House Lothston. She was also a witch. She is described as having “long red hair and wore tight-fitting black armor.A story told to misbehaving children said that on moonless nights bats would fly from Harrenhal and take the bad children back to Mad Danelle.”
We know from Catelyn that a castle usually passes to descendants or close relatives of the previous lords.
"No," Catelyn agreed. "You must name another heir, until such time as Jeyne gives you a son." She considered a moment. "Your father's father had no siblings, but his father had a sister who married a younger son of Lord Raymar Royce, of the junior branch. They had three daughters, all of whom wed Vale lordlings. A Waynwood and a Corbray, for certain. The youngest . . . it might have been a Templeton, but . . ."
A Storm of Swords, Catelyn V
The lords of Harrenhal after the Lothstons were the Whents, a descendant of whom was Minisa Whent, mother to Catelyn and Lysa Tully. Since the Whents inherited Harrenhal, it’s fair to assume that there was much intermarriage between them and House Lothston for such an exchange to happen. So, while it nowhere clearly states whether Danelle married or ever had children, it is possible that her blood mingled with that of the Whents, and thereby the Tullys (and the Starks), contributing a slight trace of magic into the bloodline.
Two mutually unrelated things worthy of note:
It’s a possibility that Danelle Lothston was a descendant of the Blood of the Dragon. Aegon IV the Unworthy had many mistresses, the first of whom was Lady Falena Stokeworth. When she and Aegon were discovered abed together by his brother, Viserys, Falena was sent away and married off to Lucas Lothston. Aegon was said to have visited them in Harrenhal for a number of years thereafter. Many years later, Lady Falena returned to court, this time with her fourteen year-old daughter, Jeyne Lothston. There were many rumors that Jeyne was not the daughter of Lucas, but, in fact, the bastard of Aegon IV Targaryen. Despite these, Aegon proceeded to have his way with mother and daughter, both (these Targaryens!). Danelle must have been a great-granddaughter of Jeyne, thereby inheriting the Blood of the Dragon (which didn’t help her case, let me tell you).
The shield Brienne carries, given to her by Jaime, depicts the black bat divided on a field of silver and gold of House Lothston. So, how epic is it that this is the shield used to protect the possible descendants of that house, Catelyn and Sansa?
TL;DR: Elizabeth of York is a possible descendant of Melusina, a water-goddess of legend. Sansa Stark is a descendant of the Tullys, a house iconically linked with water. Both were/will be married off to heirs to the kingdom in an attempt to ally their disgraced houses with the crown. Jonsa is endgame!
So, I hope you all enjoyed this meta. I feel like one has to write Jonsa meta every so often to earn one’s keep in this fandom, so consider this my rent for the month.
Once again, thank you to @marydri for helping me to flesh this out. Thank you, also, to @kitten1618x whose meta (linked above. Read the comments there, ALL THE COMMENTS) contains anything and everything you’d ever want to know about the Jonsa/WotR connection, and to @sweetsummersansa as well, for this post, helpful for anyone who’d like to read up on the EoY/Sansa parallels.
Thanks for reading, and lemme know what you think!
#jonsa#jon x sansa#meta#game of thrones#a song of ice and fire#wars of the roses#elizabeth of york#sansa stark#catelyn tully
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Week 6 Recap: Where The Chips Fall
I have to start out this slightly overdue recap of Week 6 in fantasy football with a cheesy story about my Thursday night in Charlotte. Literally, as you’ll see, it’s super cheesy.
I was seated in the Bank of America Stadium about 12 rows up, in the midst of a tense union of thundering Philadelphia Eagles diehards and contentious Carolina Panthers fans. To catch you up, the former fan base is preceded by a long-standing reputation of loud and ruthless passion, while the latter is earning a reputation for its crude hostility toward away teams. Some say that Carolina fans perceive losses as honorably as their franchise quarterback, Cam Newton, does; I don’t think I need to remind you of his post-Super Bowl press conference to show you what I mean.
It was the start of the Third Quarter, and the game was certainly not going the way the home crowd had boasted it would. Carson Wentz would soon complete his second touchdown pass to Zach Ertz and take the lead, resulting in a friction of Eagles victory chants and hostile Panthers boos that would take the fan conference from reasonably tense to uncomfortably warlike. It would lead to several drunken fights, like the one buzzing around the news last Thursday, which showed an older man getting punched in the face by an aggressor in a Newton jersey. Luckily, I didn’t see any Cam fans throw fists, but what I did see probably should have had its own headline.
For our purposes, and because it’s a great title, we’ll call it Nachogate.
I was seated behind a mild-mannered Eagles fan and his bad-tempered girlfriend - well, I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt and assume she was afflicted by the medical condition known as “hangriness”. Her green-and-white decked-out boyfriend eventually heeded complaints of cranky-hunger, and braced the concession stands for something he thought his girl would really like. A heaping paper-boat of chips, cheese, beans, and sour cream. Who doesn’t love nachos?
I’ll tell you who: Carolina Panthers fans.
As he made his way back up the stands with the prized game snack, a subliminal thought within him must have awaken to warn that there was danger up ahead. I’m speculating this to be the case because he waltzed right past his row. His girlfriend’s eyes followed the steaming nachos as they traveled two rows too far, and she reached out to grab its courier’s ankles, exclaiming, “hey!! where you going with my nachos??!”
Looking back, he probably should have broken away and continued going up. But like a good boyfriend and an innocent man who truly has no idea what is coming next, he says “Oh, my bad” and turns back around to his ticketed seat.
Before he has even fully sat down, his, um, really grateful lady snatches the boat of cheesy goodness with both hands and he returns his attention to the game. Finally able to relax, he settles in to watch the Eagles try and pull ahead in the tied game. Meanwhile, his girlfriend lifts a conjoining nacho chip to her mouth and takes a bite, her crunches and resulting mmmm-s almost imperceptible under her boyfriend’s defiant cheers.
It’s now 2nd and 10, and the fans are on the edge of their seats - particularly the two Panthers fans seated directly next to the voracious girlfriend; one, a college-aged kid yelling “DEFENSE!” and the other a middle-aged woman, seemingly the boy’s mom, who already looks uncomfortable to be there. As the girlfriend sifts through her nacho mountain for another cheesy chip, the Eagles offensive squad lines up before Carson Wentz. She then lifts a messy bite toward her mouth, and at that very moment, before she even completes the bite, Carson Wentz successfully completes the best touchdown pass of the night. TOUCHDOWN EAGLES! Her boyfriend’s reacts to the victorious play like any fan would, roaring and flying into standing position, his fists pumping the air, launching one right into…
Yup, you know what. The nachos.
In the same burst of energy as the touchdown celebration that is now reverberating through the stadium, the chips are sent flying into the air like yellow white and brown confetti, raining shredded lettuce on the nearby seats and landing a hurricane of warm cheddar sauce directly on… oh yes, you guessed it.. those Panthers fans next door.
The worst part is that they didn’t yell, or even really say a word. Their reaction was more of shock and imploding anger. I don’t think I truly understood tension, not until I experienced the dead silence that followed the nacho shower. Did a touchdown even just happen? Did Carson Wentz just push me into a fantasy bonus? I already forgot. Time and space froze, and nothing else mattered... well, aside from the ill-timed complaint of the girlfriend that brought us all back to reality. “I only got to eat two chips!!” she exclaimed.
Red-faced and still in a state of disbelief, the mother and son duo looked like they just teleported from a Nacho factory explosion. The blonde boy wore fresh sour cream down the side of his tightly-trimmed beard, while the mother’s hair was soaked in the bean topping. The boyfriend, who I had started referring to in my head as Nacho-Knuckles, issued repeated nervous apologies to the mother, son, and his still hangry girlfriend.
Meanwhile, my section had consumed too many beers to not audibly react to one of the best incidents we’d ever see at a football game in our lifetimes. Laughter ensued, despite how much I sympathized with this poor guy that really just wanted to shut up his girlfriend and enjoy the game.
And while it may seem like none of this has a thing to do with fantasy or actual football, I ensure that there’s a metaphor somewhere inside this shocking incident.
It leads me to an old, but important saying, which is to let the nacho chips fall where they may. I might have revised the wording that a little, still, let’s take a closer look at that statement. Your fantasy team is like a delicious nacho. If it’s anything like the nachos at the sports bar where I work, you can add to it, or take things away from it that you don’t like. You can also make substitutions. Essentially, you build it to perfection. Sometimes, though, even if you build it just the way you want, with the components that you think will be great; even if you turn heads from those who see what you’ve built and say “damn, that nacho looks good,” you can still have it knocked out of your hands. Some weeks, I’m the one knocking out someone’s nacho; other weeks, I’m the one getting soaked in nacho rain. The important part is that no matter what, I pick up the pieces, I analyze how I could’ve assemble the building blocks better, and I never stop trying to build the perfect layers of a great team.
Moral of this amazing story is, the halfway point in the fantasy season is approaching, and now is the time to assess your building blocks and make the changes necessary to become a playoff contender.
Look, whether or not I just made the most ridiculous analogy in all of fantasy blog history, I somehow found wisdom in the aftermath of Nachogate. My team may have looked a lot like a bunch of crushed chips a couple weeks ago, but the fact is that despite my challenging start to the season, I’m on the up and up again. The fact is, I will rebuild. Also fact, you really want nachos right now.
Puns, jokes, and analogies about those cheesy layers of tortilla chips aside, let’s review my awards for last week’s performances.
Week 6 Award CHER-emony (this is the line up I would have started, based on last week, if I could turn back time)
QB 1: Kirk Cousins
RB 1: Melvin Gordon
RB 2: Mark Ingram
WR 1: Antonio Brown
WR 2: Larry Fitzgerald
FLEX: Adrian Peterson
TE: Zach Ertz
D/ST: New Orleans Saints
Kicker: Ryan Succop
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Dunkirk (2017)
In 1415, King Henry V led a vastly outnumbered English army to a shock victory against the French at Agincourt, located in Northern France, as part of the Hundred Years’ War. For centuries, Agincourt became a famous rallying point for the English, popularized in William Shakespeare’s 1599 historical play Henry V. More than a half-millennium later just north of Agincourt, British troops – with the union between England, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland occurring since the Battle of Agincourt – found themselves yet again in a desperate situation on French soil. Their enemy this time would be Nazi Germany, and, like in 1415, the British would be seemingly hopeless, outnumbered. Along with the Belgians, French – or what was left of the French army – Dutch, Poles, and Indian troops, Dunkirk would be the final part of Allied Western Europe to fall to the Axis, and, following the evacuation of thousands of British troops across the English Channel, the beginning of the Battle of Britain.
For a summertime release these days, a historical drama war movie is a non-starter among major Hollywood studio producers opting for supposedly safer action/adventure and superhero franchises. But for better and for worse, Christopher Nolan (a director whose skills I admire, nothing more) is not your average filmmaker, as he – with the financial success of his Dark Knight trilogy and Inception (2010) – faces some of the least corporate resistance to any of his planned projects. Dunkirk might appear to be Nolan’s most conventional film, to date, without close inspection, but its triptych structure successfully integrates the director’s fracturing of time. Is Nolan’s time-bending necessary? I am not convinced that it is because these decisions complicate any viewer’s efforts to emotionally connect to the characters (Nolan’s defenders who say that emotional manipulation is antithetical to a movie’s success are rejecting a cornerstone of narrative cinema). But Nolan has pursued this path, and he does well in spite of one of the more calamitous film scores in Hans Zimmer’s career.
Dunkirk’s nonlinear structure is divided into three: by land, by sea, and by air. All of its characters are fictional. On land, a private named Tommy (Fionn Whitehead) has just barely escaped incoming Germans and found his way onto Dunkirk’s beaches. There, he meets a French soldier disguising himself as a British private named “Gibson” (Aneurin Barnard) and another private, Alex (Harry Styles). Commander Bolton (Kenneth Branagh, a composite character) and Colonel Winnants (James D’Arcy) are coordinating evacuations from the beach. By sea, the Royal Navy is commandeering civilian vessels across the English Channel to expedite the evacuation. Among those civilians are Mr. Dawson (Mark Rylance), his son Peter (Tom Glynn-Carney), and Peter’s friend George (Barry Keoghan). They will later pick up a soldier (Cillian Murphy, credited as “Shivering Soldier”). In the air, three Royal Air Force (RAF) pilots –Farrier (Tom Hardy; yet again in a role concealing his face and with minimal dialogue), Collins (Jack Lowden), and “Fortis Leader” (voiced by Michael Caine, never shown) are headed towards France to serve as air support.
It should be noted that these three sections are also given titles in the opening minutes. The first, by land, is entitled “The Mole”. “Mole”, in this case, refers to a lengthy solid barrier on a shore serving as pier or breakwater (it is not referring to a spy). This befuddled me for about the first twenty minutes, so I hope this clarifies things for anyone still confused about whether or not there was a German agent in Dunkirk. In another historical note, the Germans – though surrounding the Allied troops at Dunkirk – never moved in for the fatal blow. Historians dispute the reasons why the Germans halted their advance, but it appears that Hitler believed that, once the British fled from continental Europe, they would never dare mount a cross-Channel invasion.
Nolan, who wrote the screenplay, has longed tinkered with linearity – especially in Memento (2000). His editor, Lee Smith, has been collaborating with him since Batman Begins (2005). With the screenplay’s structure married to what needs to be a keen editing sense, Nolan becomes less interested in documenting the actual events and the historical intricacies than he is intensifying the suspense. This is not The Longest Day (1962) or Tora! Tora! Tora! (1970) where the filmmakers emphasize the decisions of generals while cross-cutting with frontline combat of the soldiers involved. This is not Saving Private Ryan (1998) or Wings (1927) where the focus is on individual, fully characterized soldiers bearing the horrific brunt of combat. Because of this, Dunkirk becomes less of a war film than it is a cross-stitch of the disaster and thriller subgenres. As fascinating as this approach is, it has its share of problems – even though Dunkirk is more understandable than most other Nolan films.
That lack of distinctive characters becomes irritating after a while. If you permit a brief aside, I am sometimes told by friends – of, like yours truly, Asian descent – that the statement that, “all Asians look the same” is offensive. My dirty secret is, I tend to agree that Asian people look the same as I live in an Asian-American plurality community (or maybe it’s because I’m terrible at faces, because I tend to think that a lot of white people look the same, too). The numerous, young white men with brown hair often wearing helmets or flight masks alongside their attractive cheekbones begin to merge into one after a while – with exceptions to Rylance and Branagh, because they are the most established actors working in this movie. With the exception of One Direction fans, can you tell the difference between Aneurin Barnard and Harry Styles in the provided pictures? If you can, maybe you should be a police detective. Having already been challenged by Nolan’s temporal experimentation – at least, within the confines of what a major Hollywood studio will permit – this is an unnecessary hindrance to understanding the event on-screen. I understand that Nolan intended these characters to be blank slates for the audience to project their thoughts onto the images onscreen.
Because of that, this movie will be playing quite differently to those who have a closer connection to the events surrounding World War II, as well as any type of military service. I profess to being a WWII movie buff, yet a pure war movie – this excludes war prison movies like The Great Escape (1963), wartime/post-war dramas like Grave of the Fireflies (1988, Japan), and war romances like Casablanca (1942) – has never moved me to tears. Perhaps that is because of my personal disconnect from military operations and culture. As such, that probably explains my muted reaction compared to others. I found myself flinching as bullets ricocheted or pierced through metal, as well as staring widely in terror at the screen during the flying sequences. But being stirred by the desperation and the events unfolding in the film? That has never happened (I trust my emotions enough to make such a judgment).
Water, fire, smoke, sand, foam, and clouds are all elements that Nolan and cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema use to chilling effect. As the ensemble cast of characters immerse themselves into the action, they become lost into the overcast tinderbox of this operation, and one begins to sense the confusion that war brings. It is the fog of war, in other words, and the fear comes from what cannot be seen. Hoytema’s cinematography here – compared to almost every mainstream movie release audiences are bound to see this year – is frequently grounded in something or someone outside the frame. Perhaps it’s a plane, an enemy soldier (the only time Dunkirk depicts a German soldier is for a select few seconds in the final minute – this is not a film interested in humanization on either side, really), an incoming torpedo. Not until recently have Nolan’s films been as visually interesting as they should be, and the decision to let the camera linger in moments is a long-delayed feature. Unfortunately, this strategy only shows how terribly small this production is compared to past epics – when Commander Bolton proclaims there are tens of thousands of soldiers on the beaches of Dunkirk, we can clearly see that is not the case. The numbers are not convincing, perhaps more appropriate for a film about long lines and crowds at an amusement park than one of the largest evacuations in human history.
Dunkirk was intended for an IMAX screen, and, at the height of the film’s release, thirty-one theaters in North America showed Dunkirk in its intended IMAX 70mm release (for a primer to the screen aspect ratios of industry standard films, 70mm film, and IMAX 70mm, consult this guide – warning: not every IMAX theater is “true IMAX”). With three-quarters of Dunkirk shot in IMAX 70mm, the widest shots will seem constricting because of the blocky shape of the print. When reverting to regular 70mm film, Dunkirk is letterboxed in a format familiar to those who have seen the select few films that have been shot in 70mm: Ben-Hur (1959), My Fair Lady (1964), The Sound of Music (1965), Patton (1970), The Hateful Eight (2015), and others.
Dunkirk was also shot on traditional film, not with digital cameras that has become the industry standard worldwide – film is considered more “prestigious” and “weighty” than the cleanliness of the digital format, analogous to the reasons why music aficionados might prefer to listen to vinyl records rather than compact discs and digital formats. So that means, in theatrical screenings, the print will have crackles of black spots that appear across the screen for a split-second at a time and there will be a faint flickering effect present. Film – due to its very imperfections – also tends to make any CGI effects (which were minimized for Dunkirk as real war ships and airplanes were used) appear to be practical effects.
Not nearly as practical, perhaps even painful, is composer Hans Zimmer’s thunderous, pathetic film score – which I have to spend more time writing about than I would like to, but alas. His compositions, largely based on Nolan’s ticking pocket watch, are attuned to the urgency of the situation and how the director manipulates time. Zimmer and his music production company, Remote Control Productions, have almost monopolized film scores to major studio productions, leading to the epidemic of melody-less music and harmonic shallowness – could you sing five themes from action/adventure and superhero movies in the last ten years? – in favor of rhythm and an integration with the sound mix. Zimmer’s music is a screaming, aggressive, extended masturbatory reflex of tension without resolution. It is a thoroughly unpleasant experience, as most evident in “Supermarine” – which plays over the dogfights in the air. Sounds crash together, the stopwatch’s ticking reverts to a synthesized metronome set to explode your ear drums, and somehow it’s the second-best cue in the film. The score is played ad nauseam, to the point where one has to ask: “Can so-and-so scene operate better if there was no music at all?” My unfortunate answer to that rhetorical question is that, in too many moments, the music was not necessary to build tension (where Nolan is lacking in conveying the lethal speed of the airplanes, he certainly portrays the instantaneous dangers of these battles), and too often is a distracting blare in a beautifully-crafted movie.
The best cue in the film is not even written by Zimmer, but arranged by one of his ghostwriters, Benjamin Wallfisch, and taken so shamelessly from Sir Edward Elgar’s “Nimrod” from the Enigma Variations, that it makes little sense why Elgar’s composition could have been presented without electronic modification. The cue is entitled, “Variation 15″, as if this score wasn’t recklessly ballsy enough and as respectful as DJ Tiesto’s take of Samuel Barber’s “Adagio for Strings”. For the British, Elgar’s pieces are fixtures of their culture. Elgar’s Enigma Variations – “Nimrod” in particular – is played during national holidays, celebrations (the 2012 Summer Olympics Opening Ceremony) Remembrance Sunday (the British Commonwealth’s equivalent to the United States’ Veterans Day), and state funerals and memorial services. When “Nimrod” appears in the concluding minutes of Dunkirk, it comes as a shocking relief when following the electronic madness of what followed before it.
It is a composer’s job to craft a score that services a film and, with luck, that score will have a life of its own outside the context of the film. That is not the case here on at least the latter count, and the music that emanates from Dunkirk is partly Hans Zimmer’s responsibility. Christopher Nolan is dually responsible. After several collaborations with Zimmer, I am beginning to believe that Nolan doesn’t understand what music (recognizable melodies, complicated harmonies of various voices – not just rhythms) can do for his movies – how it can enthrall, move hearts and minds, and allow audiences to understand otherwise inaccessible characters and ideas. Those directors aspiring to be the next Christopher Nolan are emulating their hero. Zimmer, with his music production company, is a fixture of mainstream Hollywood now. The many composers – uncredited ghostwriters and otherwise – working under Zimmer have, like those directors looking up to Nolan, mimicked his rejection of melodic themes and his experimentation with time and sound mixing. Dunkirk’s film score is an attempt at musical innovation that is instead deafening tommyrot.
Within Dunkirk’s two-hour runtime is a linear narrative that wants to enrapture audiences in emotions other than excitement or the frequent flinching after a gunshot or bombing. Even with Hans Zimmer’s score, this is as crisply-made as a war movie can be. Christopher Nolan is a fine director in his own right, but he can only appeal to the enormity of things – evasive maneuvers in the wild blue yonder, fleets of ships to the rescue, sequences of extras that visually recall the greatest silent films (especially 1928′s The Crowd) ever made. When it comes the privacy of what individuals are thinking and how they feel in times distressed and desperate, he is lost at sea.
My rating: 8.5/10
^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found here.
#Dunkirk#Christopher Nolan#Fionn Whitehead#Tom Glynn Carney#Jack Lowden#Harry Styles#Aneurin Barnard#James D'Arcy#Barry Koeghan#Kenneth Branagh#Cillian Murphy#Mark Rylance#Tom Hardy#Hoyte van Hoytema#Lee Smith#Hans Zimmer#My Movie Odyssey
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Craft & Wield Your Arsenal Against an AI Menace in DAEMON x MACHINA
There are only two things in this world that are completely and wholly synonymous with anime. The first is magical girls. The second is, of course, giant robots. In the decades since Mazinger Z exploded onto the scene in the early 1970s and established the mecha genre as we know it, countless anime fans in Japan and abroad have found themselves fascinated by these flying hunks of metal battling out among the stars. Many of anime’s most well-known and highly regarded properties are mecha, such as Patlabor, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Tenga Toppen Gurren Lagann, and the unforgettable Gundam franchise. Seriously, stop a random stranger on the street and show them a picture of your favorite Mobile Suit. After you correct them it’s not a Transformer, their next guess will probably be Gundam.
This widespread fascination with mechas in media has also translated to the world of video games... somewhat. Plenty of games that let you pilot giant robots have risen over the years, though few have received widespread acclaim. The many Gundam and Super Robot Wars games have found their audiences mainly in fans of the shows they’re based on, while others carve out their own niches among mecha fans. Xenogears, Metal Wolf Chaos, and the Armored Core games may not rank among the most well-known franchises worldwide, but the fan bases they’ve found are nothing if not passionate about their mech games of choice. Armored Core in particular comes up more and more these days as a franchise that mech fans would like to see revitalized, especially given the FromSoftware pedigree behind it. Though it seems there’s no end in sight to the Armored Core drought just yet, a few series veterans have stepped in to fill the void with their new title DAEMON x MACHINA.
DAEMON x MACHINA is a third-person action game developed by Marvelous for the Switch. This post-apocalyptic mech-piloting game takes place hundreds of years after the Moonfall―a cataclysmic event where pieces of the moon broke apart and fell to Earth. This unleashed a new form of energy across the Earth called Femto that corrupted AIs and turned them against humanity. Pushed to the brink of extinction, humanity now resides within a union of nation-conglomerates called the Oval Link. This Link is overseen by a group called Orbital tasked with contracting out various mercenary groups to forge the last line of defense against the AI threat.
The stage that DAEMON X MACHINA sets for its story is a dire one indeed, though the game struggles with how much it tries to convey that. Players take on the role of “Rookie,” a custom-created character who sort of comes out of nowhere to join Orbital and wade into the world of mechs and mercenaries. After becoming accustomed to piloting the mechs (known as Arsenals) and passing the certification exam, you’re introduced to the Hanger, which is where you’ll spend all your time outside of missions. This enclosed area is your hub for viewing your Arsenal, purchasing upgrades, swapping out equipment, and accepting missions. The Hanger is populated with a handful of NPC mechanics with little to say, and outside of them the only other humans ever shown in the game are your fellow mercs.
There’s a civilization left to protect in DAEMON x MACHINA, but its complete absence from the game makes it easy to forget about. There are references to human refugee camps and settlements, but for whatever reason all your battles take place far, far away from them. The arenas you’ll be fighting in are total wastelands, complete with abandoned cars to throw and decaying buildings to topple on enemies. The saturation slider is turned up all the way as you battle under a blood red sky to industrial metal tunes as if to say “The world is already over, so just go hog wild in your giant robot.” DAEMON x MACHINA’s story is serviceable, and that’s all it really needed to be. I’m not saying that fans of mecha games don’t care about the stories at ALL, but let’s be honest, what the fans want most is to pilot giant robots and have fun doing it.
With that in mind, let me simplify things a bit. If you love to obsess over numbers, stats, and builds, DAEMON x MACHINA is probably for you. If you love convoluted control schemes that put you in situations where you’re holding virtually every button on the controller down at once, DAEMON x MACHINA is probably for you. If you love to feel like you’re actively fighting against the sheer weight of a zillion-ton metal behemoth while you’re playing video games, DAEMON x MACHINA is probably for you. If you like to build Gunplas and paint them purple and green like Unit 01, DAEMON x MACHINA is probably for you.
Everything in DAEMON x MACHINA is designed around making you feel like an extremely cool person flying an extremely cool mech. The character customization options are rad, if a bit lacking in accessories compared to NPC pilots. The Arsenal customization goes far more in-depth, with loads and loads of swappable equipment to unlock and upgrade throughout the campaign. There are plenty of builds you can fashion for your mech depending on how you want to approach the mission. Whether you want to play go agile or tanky, melee or sniper, land or sky, the options are there for you. The customization goes even deeper as you can change your Arsenal’s paint job and cover it in unlockable emblems if you so desire.
In addition to affecting your own health and defense, the parts you outfit your Arsenal with have their own individual durability stats. If they take enough damage, these parts can break completely, leaving you more damage-prone and potentially missing an entire arm to attack with. Luckily, whenever an enemy Arsenal is downed in a mission it can be scavenged for parts. If you’re missing an arm or weapon, you can find a downed Arsenal and replace it with one of theirs. If all your gear is in good condition, scavenged parts are automatically sent to your Hanger for future use. While you can buy new equipment in the Hanger, scavenging off dead enemies was how I acquired nearly all of the equipment that I used throughout the game.
All these various stats and customization options were a little overwhelming for me, I’m not gonna lie. I found it hard to judge what builds to go for or what parts and weapons to bring to different missions because there was no real indicator what worked best against the enemies I would be facing. The most common enemy types all go down pretty quickly, but most of the game ends up being spent fighting other Arsenals. Without a database of them and their own builds its tough to get a sense of what works best against them without a bit of intense observation and a lot of trial and error.
This overwhelming feeling extended into the gameplay. Arsenals are big and complicated, and not only are you flying them all around everywhere, you’re doing it with a total of six different weapons attached. There are a total of sixteen buttons across both Nintendo Switch Joy-Cons, and most able-bodied people hold controllers with four fingers on a button at a time: both thumbs on the analog sticks and both index fingers on the triggers. At any given moment in DAEMON x MACHINA you’ll probably be holding down six buttons at once and still feel like you aren’t holding enough. Whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing is all up to you.
While I did admittedly find it overwhelming (and frankly uncomfortable for my tiny hands) at times, I found it oddly appropriate. Have you ever looked at the cockpit inside of a plane? Imagine if that plane had two legs and arms and the dexterity to point accusingly at their archrival. It only ever became a hindrance when it came to the auxiliary weapons such as grenades. These weapons were mapped to the X button the Joy-Cons, so readying a grenade meant taking my thumb off the right analog stick to press the button. Problem is, that’s the stick that controls camera movement. Grenades were ultimately useless to me because there was no way to even aim them while inside the Arsenal. It seems like a major oversight, but fortunately controls are remappable and not every auxiliary weapon requires camera control anyway.
While Arsenal control is awkward and clunky in an ultimately appropriate way, controlling the pilot outside of it feels plain bad. Your created characters in DAEMON x MACHINA aren’t solely there to look at in cutscenes, by the way. During missions you can bail out of your Arsenal and fight enemies on foot. However, I found there’s little―if any―reason to do so. The weapons at your disposal are much more limited and there’s no way to recover health if you’re hurt outside of your Arsenal. Also, the levels are clearly designed for Arsenals alone, so it’s easy to get caught on the collision of slight inclines that Arsenals just glide over.
You can eventually upgrade your pilot to a point where they can manually repair your Arsenal when outside of it, but the repair process is painfully slow and your Arsenal just takes more damage since it’s just a sitting duck out there. You can already find health canisters scattered throughout levels, so the only time being able to repair your Arsenal on foot would be when it’s destroyed and you’re automatically ejected from it. Unfortunately, the repair ability doesn’t work on Arsenals that have been destroyed. At that point your options are to either die or hope you’ve already taken enough health off any remaining enemies that you can just find a secure corner and cheese the rest of the fight out. Which, to be fair, that’s how I beat the final boss.
The final boss, by the way, is terrible. It completely defies all strategies you’re taught to utilize up to that point throughout the game. Unlike every single other arena up to that point, there are no health or ammo pickups to be had. If your armor is destroyed, there are no enemies around to strip for parts. After trying it a few times I was so frustrated and in such disbelief over it that I turned to the internet for answers and found a good amount of others who had been stumped by it. I found out there’s a completely un-telegraphed gimmick to beating it that never actually worked whenever I attempted. I eventually managed to beat it and as a courtesy here’s my advice. Equip one of the katana weapons, upgrade chain attacks in the body mods, equip HIGH defense armor, and just go in over and over until it’s dead. If you can see ANYTHING other than the boss’s character model clipping through the camera then you’re doing something wrong.
Bee-lining through the story took in all about 16 hours, but there’s plenty left to do beyond that. As you progress through the story you’ll unlock side missions that can earn you parts and credits, and there are roughly as many side missions in DAEMON X MACHINA as there are story missions. If you’re tired of playing alone, there are also online modes available to players with a Nintendo Switch Online membership. You can play co-op missions with other players or face against them in 1v1 and 2v2 matches. My experience with the online modes is rather limited, but I found co-op missions went by extremely quickly given how many high-level players are there to farm for gear. I couldn’t find any 2v2 rooms open in the middle of the day on a weekend, but finding partners for 1v1 deathmatches was pretty easy. If showing off your cool mech design and challenging other players over who the better pilot is sound appealing to you, I’d definitely give these modes a shot.
The big question you’re probably still wondering though is, “If I like Armored Core will I like this?” As to that, well, I don’t know. I’ve never actually played a single Armored Core game before, and while DAEMON x MACHINA does seem similar to what I’ve seen of those games, for all I know the feel could be entirely different. I do know that there is some Armored Core pedigree behind it, though. Armored Core series producer Kenichiro Tsukuda acted as producer on DAEMON x MACHINA. Legendary mech designer Shoji Kawamori―who designed mechs for Armored Core, Macross, Patlabor, and many others―returned as well. The pedigree seemingly ends there, unfortunately. Marvelous developed and published this game, and a quick look into their previous output reveals few mechs and a lot of Senran Kagura.
So while I can’t guarantee this is exactly what you want or are looking for, I can say that I had a real great time with it. There were things I found myself wanting from this game that it didn’t deliver. I wanted my character to be more like a character. I wanted to make decisions and bond with my fellow pilots. I wanted to join a group of mercs and fight it out among the rest for supremacy. The more I played and the more I wanted these things, I realized I was looking at DAEMON x MACHINA the wrong way. Those kinds of RPG elements might belong in game like, say, Battletech, but that’s not what DAEMON x MACHINA is about. Though limited in its scope, it dials in on what it believes matters most to mecha fans: having fun being a pilot. DAEMON x MACHINA bogs you down so many stats and parts and controls because it knows that’s what being a pilot means. And once you’ve finally crafted and mastered your own perfect mech, it sets you loose under its blood red skies and tells you to let ‘er rip.
REVIEW ROUNDUP
+ Beautifully saturated wasteland environments
+ Epic industrial metal soundtrack
+ Deeply customizable mechs
+ Controlling Arsenals feels clunky and convoluted in all the ways it should
+ Co-op and Vs. multiplayer options let you show off mechs and challenge fellow pilots
+/- Intriguing setting that the story does little to deliver on
- Control outside the Arsenal feels useless
- Abysmal final boss encounter
Are you a fan of mecha games? Where does DAEMON x MACHINA rank among your favorites? Let us know in the comments below!
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Danni Wilmoth is a Features writer for Crunchyroll and co-host of the video game podcast Indiecent. You can find more words from her on Twitter @NanamisEgg.
Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!
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The robotics and AI revolution will, like local weather change, disrupt life as we all know it; what future will it herald for people?
http://tinyurl.com/y3m5qxv2
Joining the Dots is a weekly column by writer and journalist Samrat through which he connects occasions to concepts, typically via evaluation, however often via satire *** Final week, a video went viral on social media around the globe. It shows a robotic arm choosing up a bowling ball, spinning its arm round, and hurling the ball down the lane at velocity, sending all of the bowling pins flying. It quickly emerged that the very real-looking video was the truth is faux, the work of a movement graphics designer who had hash-tagged it with phrases akin to animation, rendering and CGI to point that it was computer-generated, earlier than sharing on social media. Nonetheless, from the reactions it was clear that not everybody picked up the clues; many if not most individuals thought it was actual. The impossibility of distinguishing between faux and actual in photos and movies is an on a regular basis incidence now, one thing we simply must dwell with. At the same time as we spend extra of our days gazing screens of assorted sizes, we more and more can not inform if what we’re taking a look at, whether or not phrase, picture, or video, is an outline of actuality or the creation of somebody’s creativeness. It’s going to get extra fascinating quickly. Final yr, in October, a portray titled “Portrait of Edmond de Belamy” created by an AI was sold by Christie’s in New York for $432,000 (near Rs three crore). Earlier this yr, Sotheby’s hosted an public sale of an AI art work. It didn’t get anyplace close to the worth of the primary Christie’s piece, fetching solely £40,000 (round Rs 35 lakh) — however that’s not the purpose. The purpose is that AI methods are creating artworks which are deemed ok and fascinating sufficient to be auctioned by Christie’s and Sotheby’s. It’s now not solely human imaginations we now have to deal with. Portrait of Edmond de Belamy auctioned by Christie’s. Picture by way of Wikimedia Commons This yr additionally noticed the publication (by tutorial writer Springer) of a analysis guide on lithium-ion batteries authored by a bot. And OpenAI, an organization backed by Elon Musk amongst others, launched a paper on a system that may generate what they referred to as “deepfakes for information”, or “high-quality faux information”. They didn’t launch the code as a result of they thought it could be too harmful to take action. Expertise appears already to be attending to the purpose the place it is ready to generate photos and textual content that no less than the overwhelming majority of people could be unable to differentiate from the work of different, professional people — artists and writers. Video will observe. Our notion of what’s actual and what’s not is clearly going to be challenged in years to come back. We could not wish to acknowledge this, however the indicators are clear sufficient. We additionally don’t wish to acknowledge that, like local weather change, the revolution in robotics and AI will the truth is disrupt life as we all know it. For starters, it’s apparent that if AI methods are sensible sufficient to create artwork and write books and information studies, beat the perfect on this planet in chess, win quiz exhibits akin to Jeopardy and the board sport Go, they’re additionally sensible sufficient to do a whole lot of much less difficult duties. Agriculture was the principal occupation of most individuals around the globe for hundreds of years. That started to alter with the Industrial Revolution, although the shift has been gradual. In line with World Financial institution knowledge, in 2018, in nations it classifies as Excessive Revenue, solely three p.c of whole employment was in agriculture. The corresponding determine for Center Revenue nations was 30 p.c, and for Low Revenue nations was 63 p.c. The concept has typically been that as economies develop, folks transfer out of agriculture into different sectors akin to manufacturing and providers. Within the developed world, employment in trade has additionally seen a reasonably regular downward development since 1990 no less than. The providers sector has been the expansion space; for example, within the European Union, in 2018, employment in providers accounted for 72 p.c of the overall. In North America the corresponding determine is 79 p.c. It is apparent that if AI methods are sensible sufficient to create artwork and write books and information studies, beat the perfect on this planet in chess, win quiz exhibits and board video games, they’re additionally sensible sufficient to do a whole lot of much less difficult duties. Nonetheless from the movie Ex-Machina. Picture for illustration solely Retail, transport, banking and telecom are necessary examples of industries within the service sector. All are seeing rising automation. As an illustration, in London, the massive retail chains akin to Sainsbury’s and Marks & Spencer’s have already got loads of self-checkout counters. There are that many fewer employees in every retailer. Self-driving vehicles are already a factor; the day when Uber taxis drive themselves, no less than in nations the place site visitors guidelines are adopted, isn’t far. Plenty of shopping for and promoting of shares within the inventory market is already being carried out by algorithms. They’ll come for banking jobs too, as they may come for routine customer support and name centre jobs in telecom. Additionally on Firstpost — The future according to Yuval Noah Harari: The historian on the 21st century’s biggest challenges, and how to face them The logic of corporations is lastly pushed by two phrases: effectivity and revenue. When tireless bots, algorithms and robots can do jobs with out errors, with out complaints, with out holidays and sick leaves, and most significantly, with out salaries, you may ensure that as quickly as prices and availability allow, the applied sciences can be adopted. A future through which automatons do most of labor as we all know it’s nigh. Since work is both bodily or psychological, and the automatons will more and more be able to each, will probably be troublesome if not unimaginable for many people to maneuver to the next area of interest within the job market. The query is who all of the work can be for. The difficulty with robots and algorithms is that they don’t want to purchase stuff; solely people do. An expert optimist would possibly conceive of a future the place the machines do a lot of the work whereas we people get a common fundamental earnings in our financial institution accounts in order that we are able to purchase issues and maintain the entire financial system operating. That is fantastic, nevertheless it leaves us with a good larger query. We’re lastly confronted with the concept of freedom, and that may be a horrifying thought for many. Our days and our lives at current are given construction by work. Individuals worth themselves and others by designations and salaries. They dwell eight hours a day, 5 days per week, most weeks of the yr, for many of their lives with work. Their youths are spent in preparation for this; schooling is motivated and directed in giant measure in direction of gainful employment. With gainful employment out of the image, would so many individuals be curious about learning for 16 or extra years of their lives, at appreciable expense? Maybe, as skilled optimist Karl Marx remarked, will probably be doable, lastly, for everybody “to do one factor right now and one other tomorrow, to hunt within the morning, fish within the afternoon, rear cattle within the night, criticise after dinner…with out ever changing into hunter, fisherman, herdsman or critic,” although the looking, fishing, and cattle-rearing could must be carried out just about, and the criticism could also be bereft of even the illusion of schooling now seen on social media and in feedback sections. The skilled pessimist model of this state of affairs is just too darkish to color. Samrat is an writer, journalist and former newspaper editor. He tweets as @mrsamratx Your information to the most recent cricket World Cup tales, evaluation, studies, opinions, dwell updates and scores on https://www.firstpost.com/firstcricket/series/icc-cricket-world-cup-2019.html. Comply with us on Twitter and Instagram or like our Facebook web page for updates all through the continuing occasion in England and Wales. !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s) {if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function() {n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments)} ; if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n;n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0'; n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)}(window,document,'script', 'https://connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbevents.js'); fbq('init', '259288058299626'); fbq('track', 'PageView'); (function(d, s, id) { var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = "http://connect.facebook.net/en_GB/all.js#xfbml=1&version=v2.9&appId=1117108234997285"; fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); }(document, 'script', 'facebook-jssdk')); window.fbAsyncInit = function () { FB.init({appId: '1117108234997285', version: 2.4, xfbml: true}); // *** here is my code *** if (typeof facebookInit == 'function') { facebookInit(); } }; (function () { var e = document.createElement('script'); e.src = document.location.protocol + '//connect.facebook.net/en_US/all.js'; e.async = true; document.getElementById('fb-root').appendChild(e); }()); function facebookInit() { console.log('Found FB: Loading comments.'); FB.XFBML.parse(); } Source link
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On an extraordinary Sunday at Bellerive, Tiger Woods reminded us again of his greatness (even in defeat)
ST. LOUIS — You’re tempted to say he’s the hardest-working man in show business, except Tiger Woods isn’t in show business. That’s the root of his greatness and his greatest challenge. As a public being, he’d like to be judged, first and foremost, as he judges himself, as an athlete. But the world won’t stand for that. The modern elite athlete must also be an entertainer, a showman, a celebrity, a philanthropist. A role model. It’s too much.
On Sunday, we saw the version of the man that truly captures and inspires: Tiger Woods, athlete. “He shot 64 when he looked like he was shooting 74,” said his playing partner, Gary Woodland. “Only a great athlete can do that. He missed that five-footer for birdie on 1, got mad, stiffed it on 2 and made that.”
Woodland’s caddie, Brennan Little, was caddying for Mike Weir on Sunday at Medinah in 1999 when Weir was paired with Woods and Woods won his first PGA Championship. “That was intense,” Little said Sunday night. “This was more intense.”
That was then, Tiger Woods at the start of his professional career. This is now, Tiger Woods deep in the back nine of it. Then there would be more chances forever, until forever disappears.
These were his four scores: 70, 66, 66, 64. Only one player shot better, Brooks Koepka, who won by two over Woods and three over Adam Scott. Koepka is 28 and his body never aches. “If you’re working out every day, you’re not going to be sore,” he said Saturday night, 24 hours before the coronation ceremony as the (unofficial) best player in the world, the (unofficial) player of the year, the (unofficial) future first ballot Hall of Famer. Tiger Woods is 42 and his body always aches. He’s probably taking an ice bath right now. The things we do, to pursue the things we want. Woods wants a 15th major, his kids at the awards ceremony, a new last chapter. He may not realize—he may be too close to the action to know—that he is already at work on an exceptional third act. Act I of his playing career was called Talent + Work. Act II was called Obsession + Work. Act III, a work in progress, is called Trying. Who cannot relate to trying? It’s what we tell our kids and our better selves, right?
It seems fitting, that this piece of sporting near-magic happened where it did, in this great and proud city, or in its leafy, moist suburbs, anyhow. You know St. Louis: the Cardinals, the breweries, the Blues, the dwindling factories trying to hold on, the late, great Sporting News (print edition), union workers clinging to their cards, the reinvention as a tech-and-med town. You never saw bigger crowds following Woods, anywhere. St. Louis fans have a measure of patience you won’t see in New York or Chicago and Los Angeles. That’s why they love baseball so much. That’s why they were the sixth man in this fourth major. “It felt a little bit like a football atmosphere out there,” Woods’s caddie, Joe LaCava, said Sunday night. He’s a Giants fan himself. Woods’s team is the Raiders.
Eric McHugh, a St. Louis TV cameraman, worked the tournament on Sunday wearing a black Mizzou basketball hat. He’s covered everything there is to cover in St. Louis, and way beyond St. Louis. “I’ve covered games in the Coliseum, with 85,000 people there, hollering,” he said, referring to the Los Angeles football temple. “This was more than that.” Not in terms of numbers. No golf course, and Bellerive especially, can handle a crowd that size. If it was half of that, it would be huge. (The PGA of America did not release attendance figures.) McHugh was speaking as Woodland was, of intensity. “The crowd noise for Tiger was like a storm brewing. You’d be standing on the side of the fairway and he’d be walking up it and it was like a sound wave, building up, getting louder and louder.” There has never been another golfer who has created an atmosphere like that, who shakes life into the people who watch him, on a screen and especially in person. That’s because there’s never been a golfer with a life story anything like Tiger Woods’s life story. It’s easier to root for him now than ever before, because we can all see what he is: a man in recovery.
Woods did at Bellerive what he did last month at Carnoustie. Both times, he was nearly excellent. Both times he stirred memories of his former greatness. Both times, he showed his desire, intensity and anger, and his sense of humor, too. He showed—he proved—the very thing he has said for some years now: “Father Time is undefeated.” In the intense heat and humidity of the Show Me state in August, Woods needed two shirts a day. Greatness sweats. If you’ve ever seen Michael Jordan in action, or Bill Murray or American Pharoah, you know that. Woods played his second shot on 17 on Sunday, out of the muddy weeds beside a swollen creek, with beads of sweat on his cheeks, nose and neck. His towel should get a percentage.
Woods’s prime was far longer than you might realize. It began in 1991, when he won his first (of six) USGA amateur titles at age 15, and concluded in 2008, when he won his 14th professional major, at age 32. And here he was, 10 years later, on a long, soft course. Once, he owned the courses like this one, as he owned the American summer. Bring him to Valhalla, to Medinah, to Southern Hills—he knew what to do. He did what Brooks Koepka did here. Woods stomped on those courses, from early Thursday to late Sunday and with every club in his bag, most especially the driver (as needed) and the putter. Plus, the breaks went his way. The teetering putts fell. He played under a magic spell, in a cocoon of his own making. Now there are holes in it. They might be only pinholes, but air escapes. The 25-foot birdie putt on 11 sat practically on the paint. Back in the day, that ball fell. As it did at the 2005 Masters, on 16. As it did at the 2008 U.S. Open, on the 72nd hole. As it always did. Woods used to say, “You gotta get a little lucky.” It sounded arrogant because he was lucky and he was better than everybody. But he was also being accurate. Winners seem to always be a little lucky.
Woods will be on the Ryder Cup team, certainly as an assistant captain, almost certainly as one of Jim Furyk’s four captains picks. You can imagine him winning another PGA Tour event. Bellerive played much more like an ordinary Tour course, but with a far better field. It’s less easy to imagine him winning another major, not with the likes of Brooks Koepka and Dustin Johnson and Francesco Molinari and Justin Thomas flying around this world.
“The energy was incredible,” Woods said Sunday night. He was speaking of the fans’ energy. He could have been speaking of his own.
Source: Golf.com
The post On an extraordinary Sunday at Bellerive, Tiger Woods reminded us again of his greatness (even in defeat) appeared first on Winding River Golf Course.
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On an extraordinary Sunday at Bellerive, Tiger Woods reminded us again of his greatness (even in defeat)
ST. LOUIS — You’re tempted to say he’s the hardest-working man in show business, except Tiger Woods isn’t in show business. That’s the root of his greatness and his greatest challenge. As a public being, he’d like to be judged, first and foremost, as he judges himself, as an athlete. But the world won’t stand for that. The modern elite athlete must also be an entertainer, a showman, a celebrity, a philanthropist. A role model. It’s too much.
On Sunday, we saw the version of the man that truly captures and inspires: Tiger Woods, athlete. “He shot 64 when he looked like he was shooting 74,” said his playing partner, Gary Woodland. “Only a great athlete can do that. He missed that five-footer for birdie on 1, got mad, stiffed it on 2 and made that.”
Woodland’s caddie, Brennan Little, was caddying for Mike Weir on Sunday at Medinah in 1999 when Weir was paired with Woods and Woods won his first PGA Championship. “That was intense,” Little said Sunday night. “This was more intense.”
That was then, Tiger Woods at the start of his professional career. This is now, Tiger Woods deep in the back nine of it. Then there would be more chances forever, until forever disappears.
These were his four scores: 70, 66, 66, 64. Only one player shot better, Brooks Koepka, who won by two over Woods and three over Adam Scott. Koepka is 28 and his body never aches. “If you’re working out every day, you’re not going to be sore,” he said Saturday night, 24 hours before the coronation ceremony as the (unofficial) best player in the world, the (unofficial) player of the year, the (unofficial) future first ballot Hall of Famer. Tiger Woods is 42 and his body always aches. He’s probably taking an ice bath right now. The things we do, to pursue the things we want. Woods wants a 15th major, his kids at the awards ceremony, a new last chapter. He may not realize—he may be too close to the action to know—that he is already at work on an exceptional third act. Act I of his playing career was called Talent + Work. Act II was called Obsession + Work. Act III, a work in progress, is called Trying. Who cannot relate to trying? It’s what we tell our kids and our better selves, right?
It seems fitting, that this piece of sporting near-magic happened where it did, in this great and proud city, or in its leafy, moist suburbs, anyhow. You know St. Louis: the Cardinals, the breweries, the Blues, the dwindling factories trying to hold on, the late, great Sporting News (print edition), union workers clinging to their cards, the reinvention as a tech-and-med town. You never saw bigger crowds following Woods, anywhere. St. Louis fans have a measure of patience you won’t see in New York or Chicago and Los Angeles. That’s why they love baseball so much. That’s why they were the sixth man in this fourth major. “It felt a little bit like a football atmosphere out there,” Woods’s caddie, Joe LaCava, said Sunday night. He’s a Giants fan himself. Woods’s team is the Raiders.
Eric McHugh, a St. Louis TV cameraman, worked the tournament on Sunday wearing a black Mizzou basketball hat. He’s covered everything there is to cover in St. Louis, and way beyond St. Louis. “I’ve covered games in the Coliseum, with 85,000 people there, hollering,” he said, referring to the Los Angeles football temple. “This was more than that.” Not in terms of numbers. No golf course, and Bellerive especially, can handle a crowd that size. If it was half of that, it would be huge. (The PGA of America did not release attendance figures.) McHugh was speaking as Woodland was, of intensity. “The crowd noise for Tiger was like a storm brewing. You’d be standing on the side of the fairway and he’d be walking up it and it was like a sound wave, building up, getting louder and louder.” There has never been another golfer who has created an atmosphere like that, who shakes life into the people who watch him, on a screen and especially in person. That’s because there’s never been a golfer with a life story anything like Tiger Woods’s life story. It’s easier to root for him now than ever before, because we can all see what he is: a man in recovery.
Woods did at Bellerive what he did last month at Carnoustie. Both times, he was nearly excellent. Both times he stirred memories of his former greatness. Both times, he showed his desire, intensity and anger, and his sense of humor, too. He showed—he proved—the very thing he has said for some years now: “Father Time is undefeated.” In the intense heat and humidity of the Show Me state in August, Woods needed two shirts a day. Greatness sweats. If you’ve ever seen Michael Jordan in action, or Bill Murray or American Pharoah, you know that. Woods played his second shot on 17 on Sunday, out of the muddy weeds beside a swollen creek, with beads of sweat on his cheeks, nose and neck. His towel should get a percentage.
Woods’s prime was far longer than you might realize. It began in 1991, when he won his first (of six) USGA amateur titles at age 15, and concluded in 2008, when he won his 14th professional major, at age 32. And here he was, 10 years later, on a long, soft course. Once, he owned the courses like this one, as he owned the American summer. Bring him to Valhalla, to Medinah, to Southern Hills—he knew what to do. He did what Brooks Koepka did here. Woods stomped on those courses, from early Thursday to late Sunday and with every club in his bag, most especially the driver (as needed) and the putter. Plus, the breaks went his way. The teetering putts fell. He played under a magic spell, in a cocoon of his own making. Now there are holes in it. They might be only pinholes, but air escapes. The 25-foot birdie putt on 11 sat practically on the paint. Back in the day, that ball fell. As it did at the 2005 Masters, on 16. As it did at the 2008 U.S. Open, on the 72nd hole. As it always did. Woods used to say, “You gotta get a little lucky.” It sounded arrogant because he was lucky and he was better than everybody. But he was also being accurate. Winners seem to always be a little lucky.
Woods will be on the Ryder Cup team, certainly as an assistant captain, almost certainly as one of Jim Furyk’s four captains picks. You can imagine him winning another PGA Tour event. Bellerive played much more like an ordinary Tour course, but with a far better field. It’s less easy to imagine him winning another major, not with the likes of Brooks Koepka and Dustin Johnson and Francesco Molinari and Justin Thomas flying around this world.
“The energy was incredible,” Woods said Sunday night. He was speaking of the fans’ energy. He could have been speaking of his own.
Source: Golf.com
The post On an extraordinary Sunday at Bellerive, Tiger Woods reminded us again of his greatness (even in defeat) appeared first on Olive Glenn Golf and Country Club.
0 notes
Text
On an extraordinary Sunday at Bellerive, Tiger Woods reminded us again of his greatness (even in defeat)
ST. LOUIS — You’re tempted to say he’s the hardest-working man in show business, except Tiger Woods isn’t in show business. That’s the root of his greatness and his greatest challenge. As a public being, he’d like to be judged, first and foremost, as he judges himself, as an athlete. But the world won’t stand for that. The modern elite athlete must also be an entertainer, a showman, a celebrity, a philanthropist. A role model. It’s too much.
On Sunday, we saw the version of the man that truly captures and inspires: Tiger Woods, athlete. “He shot 64 when he looked like he was shooting 74,” said his playing partner, Gary Woodland. “Only a great athlete can do that. He missed that five-footer for birdie on 1, got mad, stiffed it on 2 and made that.”
Woodland’s caddie, Brennan Little, was caddying for Mike Weir on Sunday at Medinah in 1999 when Weir was paired with Woods and Woods won his first PGA Championship. “That was intense,” Little said Sunday night. “This was more intense.”
That was then, Tiger Woods at the start of his professional career. This is now, Tiger Woods deep in the back nine of it. Then there would be more chances forever, until forever disappears.
These were his four scores: 70, 66, 66, 64. Only one player shot better, Brooks Koepka, who won by two over Woods and three over Adam Scott. Koepka is 28 and his body never aches. “If you’re working out every day, you’re not going to be sore,” he said Saturday night, 24 hours before the coronation ceremony as the (unofficial) best player in the world, the (unofficial) player of the year, the (unofficial) future first ballot Hall of Famer. Tiger Woods is 42 and his body always aches. He’s probably taking an ice bath right now. The things we do, to pursue the things we want. Woods wants a 15th major, his kids at the awards ceremony, a new last chapter. He may not realize—he may be too close to the action to know—that he is already at work on an exceptional third act. Act I of his playing career was called Talent + Work. Act II was called Obsession + Work. Act III, a work in progress, is called Trying. Who cannot relate to trying? It’s what we tell our kids and our better selves, right?
It seems fitting, that this piece of sporting near-magic happened where it did, in this great and proud city, or in its leafy, moist suburbs, anyhow. You know St. Louis: the Cardinals, the breweries, the Blues, the dwindling factories trying to hold on, the late, great Sporting News (print edition), union workers clinging to their cards, the reinvention as a tech-and-med town. You never saw bigger crowds following Woods, anywhere. St. Louis fans have a measure of patience you won’t see in New York or Chicago and Los Angeles. That’s why they love baseball so much. That’s why they were the sixth man in this fourth major. “It felt a little bit like a football atmosphere out there,” Woods’s caddie, Joe LaCava, said Sunday night. He’s a Giants fan himself. Woods’s team is the Raiders.
Eric McHugh, a St. Louis TV cameraman, worked the tournament on Sunday wearing a black Mizzou basketball hat. He’s covered everything there is to cover in St. Louis, and way beyond St. Louis. “I’ve covered games in the Coliseum, with 85,000 people there, hollering,” he said, referring to the Los Angeles football temple. “This was more than that.” Not in terms of numbers. No golf course, and Bellerive especially, can handle a crowd that size. If it was half of that, it would be huge. (The PGA of America did not release attendance figures.) McHugh was speaking as Woodland was, of intensity. “The crowd noise for Tiger was like a storm brewing. You’d be standing on the side of the fairway and he’d be walking up it and it was like a sound wave, building up, getting louder and louder.” There has never been another golfer who has created an atmosphere like that, who shakes life into the people who watch him, on a screen and especially in person. That’s because there’s never been a golfer with a life story anything like Tiger Woods’s life story. It’s easier to root for him now than ever before, because we can all see what he is: a man in recovery.
Woods did at Bellerive what he did last month at Carnoustie. Both times, he was nearly excellent. Both times he stirred memories of his former greatness. Both times, he showed his desire, intensity and anger, and his sense of humor, too. He showed—he proved—the very thing he has said for some years now: “Father Time is undefeated.” In the intense heat and humidity of the Show Me state in August, Woods needed two shirts a day. Greatness sweats. If you’ve ever seen Michael Jordan in action, or Bill Murray or American Pharoah, you know that. Woods played his second shot on 17 on Sunday, out of the muddy weeds beside a swollen creek, with beads of sweat on his cheeks, nose and neck. His towel should get a percentage.
Woods’s prime was far longer than you might realize. It began in 1991, when he won his first (of six) USGA amateur titles at age 15, and concluded in 2008, when he won his 14th professional major, at age 32. And here he was, 10 years later, on a long, soft course. Once, he owned the courses like this one, as he owned the American summer. Bring him to Valhalla, to Medinah, to Southern Hills—he knew what to do. He did what Brooks Koepka did here. Woods stomped on those courses, from early Thursday to late Sunday and with every club in his bag, most especially the driver (as needed) and the putter. Plus, the breaks went his way. The teetering putts fell. He played under a magic spell, in a cocoon of his own making. Now there are holes in it. They might be only pinholes, but air escapes. The 25-foot birdie putt on 11 sat practically on the paint. Back in the day, that ball fell. As it did at the 2005 Masters, on 16. As it did at the 2008 U.S. Open, on the 72nd hole. As it always did. Woods used to say, “You gotta get a little lucky.” It sounded arrogant because he was lucky and he was better than everybody. But he was also being accurate. Winners seem to always be a little lucky.
Woods will be on the Ryder Cup team, certainly as an assistant captain, almost certainly as one of Jim Furyk’s four captains picks. You can imagine him winning another PGA Tour event. Bellerive played much more like an ordinary Tour course, but with a far better field. It’s less easy to imagine him winning another major, not with the likes of Brooks Koepka and Dustin Johnson and Francesco Molinari and Justin Thomas flying around this world.
“The energy was incredible,” Woods said Sunday night. He was speaking of the fans’ energy. He could have been speaking of his own.
Source: Golf.com
The post On an extraordinary Sunday at Bellerive, Tiger Woods reminded us again of his greatness (even in defeat) appeared first on Cypress Creek.
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