#‘was i this rebellious?’ yes you were hon

[bluismie]

sibling banter 🍂

[watchingspnagain]

Rewatching Changing Channels

Welcome to “‘Supernatural is filmed before a live studio audience’: A Supernatural Rewatch Blog” with Lor and Mace!

Up today, s5e8: Changing Channels.

Sam comes home to the boys’ bright, sunny apartment to find that Dean has been shirking his research in favor of entertaining a bikini-clad lady. Oh, and there’s a laugh track. What? Rewind. A few days earlier, the boys are investigating the death of a man with anger-management problems who seems to have been killed by the Incredible Hulk. Sam suspects the Trickster, and suggests trying to convince him to help them stop the apocalypse. When they go to an abandoned warehouse thinking they have a lead on where the Trickster will be, they get zapped into a hospital where everyone thinks they are doctors, doctors who seem to be caught up in a great deal of personal drama. The boys are stuck on TV, making their way through a number of shows, including Doctor Sexy, Dean’s “guilty pleasure” medical drama. They catch the Trickster, and he tells them to “play their roles” before disappearing. With the help of Cas, they figure out the Trickster must actually be an angel, trap him in holy fire, and make him explain himself. He’s Gabriel, and he insists Sam and Dean must play their roles in the apocalypse and that the boys mirror the conflict in Heaven, with Dean the faithful son (Michael) and Sam the rebellious one, who chaffed under his father’s rules (Lucifer). Dean rejects all this, but they are both shaken.

Below is a log of our real-time reactions as we watched. Remember that there may be spoilers for any part of SPN’s 15-season run here. Note also that the nature of our conversation is adult and thus it may contain adult language and themes.

 [and we begin:]

Mace:

I LOVE THIS EPISODE

Lor:

ME TOO IT'S SO GOOD

Mace:

YASYASYAS

Mace:

You know what the Latin is for a sword’s sheath, Dean? Because that’s pretty much what you are to Michael, right?

Lor:

LOLOL

Lor:

I love that they drop you in with no idea what's going on

Mace:

YES

Mace:

these silly eps are where we really actually see how amazing these two are as actors, I think

Lor:

YES YES YES I was just thinking that

Mace:

omg the theme song!

Lor:

omg the son of a bitch

Mace:

YES

Lor:

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA YES

Lor:

and the montage behind it

Mace:

how much stupid fun must they have had making this

Lor:

RIGHT?

Mace:

AND THEY’RE IN OHIO

Lor:

YES

Lor:

OMG Dean your face

Mace:

YES

Lor:

YOU WERE NOT CHANNEL SURFING DEAN YOU WERE WATCHING YOUR DOCTOR CRUSH

Mace:

poor Dean. Sammy’s scorn won’t let him admit that

smacks Sammy upside

Lor:

right? don't kick him when he's a confused muffin, Sammy

Mace:

brothers. yeesh.

Lor:

LOL!

Lor:

Banner or Norton? I LOVE HIM

Mace:

BANNER OR NORTON

Mace:

HAHAHAHA

Lor:

LOL

Mace:

Dean, bud, that doesn’t even make sense

Lor:

lololol

Lor:

"you might say you wouldn't like him when he's angry" LOL

Mace:

I was talking to the fly in the kitchen this morning and told him, “Stay right there, bud, until I get the swatter” and then I felt bad calling him “bud” before killing him. I have issues, I think.

Mace:

HAHAHAHA

Lor:

LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

Lor:

they are both looking particularly lovely this ep

Mace:

they really really are

Lor:

oh Dean. you're gonna ally with so many worser dudes than Gabe, honey

Mace:

right?!

Lor:

mmmm scanners. sounds like childhood

Mace:

…what?

Lor:

my dad. it was one of his hobbies. he listened to them for funsies. to the best of my knowledge, he was not using the info to hunt the supernatural

Mace:

Ah. interesting.

Lor:

OMG Sam's face after she slaps him the second time

Mace:

YES

Lor:

"that's your theory?" well, he's right, Deano

Mace:

HA

Lor:

"I dunno. it is compelling" LOL

Lor:

OMG Dean's reaction to Dr. Sexy versus all the others

Lor:

HON.

Mace:

OMG Dean’s “doctor"

Lor:

YAAAAS

Mace:

YESYESYES

Mace:

he is so crushed out

Lor:

RIGHT?!

Lor:

"yeah, you're not a fan" lol Sammy

Mace:

oooh he slammed him up against the wall...

Lor:

HE REALLY REALLY DID

Lor:

omg I love him

Mace:

YES

Mace:

“my own little idiot box” and who, exactly is the idiot here, Gabe? So. Many. Choices.

Lor:

"you two muttonheads broke the world" LOL

Lor:

HAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHA

Lor:

omg his eyebrow waggle

Mace:

YAS

Mace:

the soundtrack omg

Lor:

"it's real, it's real"

Mace:

omg DEAN

Mace:

SAM’S FACE

Lor:

OH SO HE CAN GET SHOT IN THE BACK AND FUCKING SAM CAN SAVE HIM BUT A LITTLE REBAR IS THE END?!

Mace:

HAHAHAHAHA

Mace:

HE SAID STAT

Lor:

LOL

Lor:

omg the game show coming for Sam

right?

Mace:

omg their FACES

Lor:

OMG the FACES

Lor:

LOLOLOLOLOL

Mace:

HAHAHAHA

Lor:

CAS!

Mace:

YES

Mace:

PRETTY BOY ANGELS

Lor:

"mister trickster does not like pretty boy angels"

Mace:

i mean, he’s not wrong

Lor:

YES

Lor:

LOL

Mace:

he is very pretty

Lor:

he really is

Lor:

OMG Dean's face when he hits the button

Mace:

YES

Lor:

SOMEONE CAST HIM IN A COMEDY RIGHT NOW

Mace:

RIGHT?! BOTH OF THEM

Lor:

YES

Mace:

HAHAHAHA THE COMMERCIAL

Lor:

YES

Lor:

omg the side effects

Mace:

YES

Mace:

“slightly lessen the spread” HAHAHAHA

Lor:

YES

Mace:

“how is that funny?!”

Lor:

"how was that funny?" LOLOL talking to the laugh track

Lor:

YES

Mace:

YES

Mace:

oooh Cas with his little cuts

Mace:

HOT

Lor:

YESYESYES

Lor:

oooo now Dean is getting pushed up against a wall

Mace:

YAS

Lor:

OMG I FORGOT ABOUT THE CSI ONE

Mace:

ME TOO

Mace:

omg they look SO GOOD

Lor:

RIGHT?

Lor:

WOULD WATCH

Mace:

“no talent douchebags"

Mace:

HAHAHAHA

Lor:

"calm down?! I am wearing SUNGLASSES at night"

Lor:

LOLOLOLOL

Lor:

OMG THE WALK DED

Mace:

YAS

Mace:

I’m gonna need Sammy to keep that bright blue shirt

Mace:

OMG SAMMY

Lor:

YES

Lor:

I'm gonna need Dean to keep those sunglasses

Mace:

YES

Lor:

Dean, baby, the decor is the same. Pay attention

Mace:

right?

Lor:

THE MUSIC

Mace:

YES

Mace:

I LOVED KIT as a kid

Lor:

YES!

Lor:

the leaves shot

Mace:

YES

Mace:

“should I honk?"

Mace:

AHAHAHA

Mace:

“eat me”

Lor:

"should I honk?" HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Lor:

LOLOL

Lor:

"nobody's going anywhere until Sam has opposable thumbs" I LOVE HIM. he could just say "put Sam back" but no, because it's Dean

Mace:

YEP

Lor:

"we pulled it out of Sam's ass"

Mace:

SNORK

Lor:

SAMMY

Mace:

YES

Lor:

"they call me Gabriel"

Lor:

aw, Gabe. I love the little jerk

Mace:

AGREED

Lor:

"you sorry sons a bitches"

Mace:

HAHAHA

Lor:

"you were born to this boys" "as it is in heaven, so it must be on earth" I LOVE IT IT'S SO DUMB BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH IT MAKES ME ALL BOUNCY

Mace:

It’s really nice and parallelly

Lor:

yep

Mace:

chosen ones and cycles so good

Lor:

YES

Lor:

oooo nice upside down shot in the water

Lor:

"first of all, you can bring Cas back" pets him

Mace:

YES

Mace:

Gabe has really nice eyes

Lor:

RIGHT?

Mace:

Oh Dean. Kettle much?

Lor:

yeeeeah

Lor:

he was hot when he busted the fire alarm though, so

Mace:

HAHAHA

Lor:

"I wish I was back on a tv show"

Mace:

oooof

Lor:

RIGHT?

[sgtbradfords]

Please could you write a Chenford prompt with this: “Who were you with?”. Thank you! 💖

Thank you for the prompt hon! I hope this does what you requested some justice! It almost stumped me, but then I had an idea about the future and well lord knows my muse had enough fun with it then. ;) Enjoy!

Captain Tim and Lieutenant Lucy Bradford had both turned in for the night, laying in their king-sized bed, talking off and on about things they had heard throughout the day at the department as Tim read the book in his hand, Lucy reading something on her phone.

“He’s going to be late.” She mumbled, noticing the time.

Tim never looked up, turning the page in his book. “He won’t be late.”

“Admit it, he’s going to be late and you can finally pay up.”

Tim looked over at the clock on the nightstand. “He’ll cut it close but he won’t be late, he’s never been late a day in his life.”

“No, because he’s your son. But you may as well pay up now Bradford, he has less than two minutes.”

“Only when he walks through the door at 23:01 Bradford, will you be getting any form of payment.”

The clock hit 10:59 and Lucy began counting down the seconds in her head, making it to twenty-three seconds left when the sound of a thud, something heavy hitting the ground echoed through the house.

They both jolted, Tim’s right hand and Lucy’s left reaching for their guns in the nightstands before thinking better of it.

Heavy footsteps sounded as the person climbed the stairs, stepping on the eighth step, the wood creaking under the pressure as it always had over the past twenty years.

“You ok?” Lucy asked, arching an eyebrow as the person walked into their room. “Just learning to walk?”

“I’m fine, tripped over my feet.” He said, carefully falling onto his stomach on the bed, burying his face into the comforter.

“Did you lock up?”

He sighed, rolling his eyes as he lifted his head. “Yes dad.”

“Did you turn off the lights?”

“I think?” he said after a second “I’ll check before I head to bed.”

Lucy wrinkled her nose as a smell assaulted her senses, “Larson Wade Bradford. Did you not shower after the game?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you use soap? Because you smell like a locker room.”

“Yes mom. You can smell test me if you want.” The teen said as he stuck an arm out.

“I’d prefer not to.” She told him, pressing his arm back down. “Just shower again before bed.”

“You done good tonight. That hit in the third looked brutal, you feeling ok?” Tim asked, placing his book to the side, taking off his reading glasses.

“Conners checked me out and said I was good to go but I swear that linesman hit me right in the lung, knocked the breath out of me. I’m sore, and my head hurts a little.” He shrugged.

“Let me see.” Tim said as he got up from the bed, moving next to his son.

Larson lifted his shirt, the left side of his skin black and blue as Tim began pressing on his side, Larson wincing when it became painful.

“Shit!” he cursed before gritting his teeth.

“Nothing’s broken.”

Lucy cringed at the sight of his marred skin as she got out of the bed, moving to the bathroom, searching the drawers for what she was looking for. She came back, two small white bottles in hand.

“Here, take these.” She said, opening and shaking out two pills into her palm, as he grabbed them and threw them back, dry swallowing. “And put this on after you shower again.”

“Was she this nice to you after you almost died?” joked Larson as he sat back down on the bed.

“Which time?” Tim asked as Lucy lightly slapped his shoulder.

“There’s not been that many.” Lucy told them, rolling her eyes as she climbed back into the bed.

“I was shot on your second day, you flipped the shop, I was infected with a virus, yet another car crash, you were buried alive, another car crash, and how can I ever forget the day you had to ride with Harper and you found that bomb. All within your first year as a boot, sweetheart.”

“You weren’t there for the bomb, I threw the guy out the window.” She smirked. “Besides, look at all the fun we experienced together!”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Your mom calls getting stabbed and shot at fun.”

“No, I’m not talking about that!” She said with a look on her face. “We used to have to go undercover together all the time even after my probationary year.”

“Why?”

“Pretty sure Wade shipped it.” Lucy told him simply.

“No one says shipped any more mom.” Said Larson.

“I’m pretty sure half the department shipped it Luce, you know how much money Wesley won from that bet.”

“Uncle Wesley won over like seven hundred dollars, right?”

“Correct, each person had to bet a hundred dollars.”

“A bunch of cops betting for when two people would hook up, who would have thought.” The seventeen-year-old said rolling his eyes.

“Hey! We got nine hundred dollars to put in your college fund from a bet so no complaining. It’s go big or go home.”

“What is a bet going on right now that involves us?”

“There’s the one of whether or not you father will retire with in the next five years.”

“Not happening.” Tim said as he placed his glasses back on, returning to his book.

“That’s what he thinks.” She stage whispered. “You were cutting it close to curfew tonight.”

Larson grimaced as he rubbed the back of his neck, looking away, a tell-tale sign he had inherited from his father. “Sorry.”

“Who were you with?”

“Hailey, Tyrell, Jonas, Nyah and Max. We went to the diner on Apex.”

“The one with the smiley face pancakes? And you didn’t invite me?”

“No I didn’t invite you, you’re kinda old mom.”

“I am not, I am forty seven! Forty seven is not old! Your father’s closer to sixty than fifty, if anyone is old it’s him!”

“Leave me out of this Luce. Besides, your daughter already thinks I’m a grandpa.”

“She’s twelve, besides she’s only calling you that because she doesn’t like it when you pick her up from school in the shop.”

“It was one time. When you get a call from the principal asking you to come for a meeting because your child punched someone and broke their nose, it warrants the shop. Besides that was before I knew she had punched another kid for bullying someone. We even went for ice cream! I think she is just calling me a grandpa to spite me.”

“Are we sure she’s not adopted? Because I was an angel at her age.”

They both looked at Larson, giving him a dubious look. “Sure you were and remind me again, who broke the window with a slingshot when they were her age?”

“Don’t forget he called 9-1-1 when he was six because he couldn’t remember a phone number.”

“Why remember a number when it’s programmed in your phone!” he argued.

“Scared me to death when you came flying up the drive, I had no idea what was going on.”

“He hung up the phone! And when I couldn’t get ahold of you, not knowing he hid the phone, I freaked out ok.”

“I know honey.” She said placing a kiss on cheek. “To answer your original question Larson, I know for a fact I spent thirteen hours in labor with her, she is in fact your sister, thank you.”

“She’s just inherited your mother’s rebellious streak a few years early.”

“My rebellious streak? You were the definition of a stereotypical bad boy Mr. Bradford.”

“You would have loved it.” He smirked.

“I find it hard to believe you had a rebellious phase mom.”

“Have you met your grandparents?”

“Good point.” He said as a yawn escaped. “I think I’m going turn in for the night, coach wants us at the field house by nine to review the tape.”

“Night kiddo, love you.”

“Love you guys too.” He said as he sluggishly walked out the door. “Oh, I’m taking Hailey out for lunch so I won’t be home until sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

“Ok, be careful. Text one of us if something changes.” Lucy said as he closed the bedroom door.

“You know, I think we’ve done a pretty good job with him.”

Tim smiled a twinkle in his eye as he placed the glasses and book on the nightstand. “I think we have too. Let’s just hope Angela and Wesley are ok with our son dating their youngest daughter.”

“How much you wanna bet Bradford, that they’ll both be boots by the time they’re twenty-five?” Lucy asked smirking as she walked her fingers up his arm, causing Tim to growl as he tackled his wife to the bed, his bodyweight pinning her to the mattress.

“How much do you wanna bet boot, that they’ll be married to each other by the time they’re twenty-eight?

“Wager the usual?” Lucy asked as Tim began kissing and sucking on her neck, causing her to shiver, even after close to being married for twenty years.

“As long as they don’t give us grandkids within the next ten years, it’s a bet.”

“We haven’t done this while they’ve been home in a while.” She gasped in his ear as his lower half thrusted against her, Lucy pulling down the sweatpants he was wearing. “Think we can still keep quiet and not get caught old man?”

Tim smirked as he reached for the hem of her nightgown, pulling it up as she pulled her upper body off the mattress, placing a thirsty kiss to his mouth before mumbling against his lips. “Guess we’ll find out tomorrow sweetheart.”

[dubsdeedubs]

An Outreached Hand [7/?]

Summary:  On a cold winter’s day in 1982, Stan Pines shows up at his brother’s door with two cats tucked in his jacket and no heartbeat in his chest.

[AO3]

Notes: I actually posted this like two days ago but didn’t make the Tumblr post for it till now.  Probably says a whole lot about how distanced I’ve been asojioda

There's someone staring at him from across the diner. A waitress, to be more precise, squinting at him suspiciously under heavy purple eyeshadow, a sharp twist to her expression that even his tired mind can read immediately as 'trouble.'

Ford's fairly certain that he has never met her in his life. But then again, his life hasn't been entirely his for several months now.

Lady over there's giving ya a real stinker of a look.

He can't help but start at the echo of Stan's voice in his head. It's... not something he's used to, hearing his brother in what used to be the domain of someone - something entirely different.

He thinks maybe it's something he will ever get used to.

You stiffed her on tips before or what?

Now that Ford thinks about it... no, yes, he had made a visit to this establishment once before. He's sure of it. It had been shortly after Fiddleford had left him, and around when Bill had decided to up the ante where psychological torment was involved. The memory of being surrounded by a dozen pairs of yellow-slitted eyes flashes before his mind's eye, and he grimaces despite himself.

Had this woman been there for that disaster of an attempted breakfast? Did she remember him from his frantic escape?

Not for the first time, he's thankful that for all of his brother's abilities, he either could not - or did not at all want to - read Ford's thoughts.

His left hand lifts itself up and flicks his nose, hard.

Ford flinches, more out of surprise and confusion than any real pain. It takes him a moment to make sense of what had just happened.

"Stanley -"

'Stanley' yourself, his brother says flatly, entirely unamused. You've been sitting for a full ten minutes in this place without moving a muscle. Have ya ever heard of ordering food when you're in a restaurant? Or is that something hermit scientists don't do?

Ford bristles. "I know perfectly well how to order food, I just haven't done it yet because the waitress has been staring at me for the past -"

He blinks, looks again.

In the span of this extremely distracting exchange, said waitress had disappeared entirely from his view.

Ford's mental alarm bells go off almost immediately.

He had long held suspicions about the local townspeople, which were only exacerbated by the recent appearance of mysterious hooded figures around town. And, considering that Bill was perfectly able and entirely willing to manipulate other people to get to him, being around anyone at all was a security breach of the highest magnitude..

The waitress had seen and recognized him. She must have noted that he was here, vulnerable and out in the open without any of the defensive measures he had set up around his home.

There is just one reason he can think of for her disappearing so immediately, and that was to share that information with others.

He knew this was a terrible idea, Ford thinks, heart racing.

He knew, but his brother just wouldn't listen to logic and sense (but why would he, when for all Stanley must have thought, Ford was just being paranoid? Because he couldn't know, not about the extent of Bill's powers, not about what had happened to Fiddleford, not about everything that Ford had been manipulated into being a part of -)

Ford needed to leave, the sooner the better. There was no telling how much time he had left before they - whoever they was, whether the hooded figures or a pawn of Bill or something he had not even anticipated - used his vulnerability to their advantage. He had to -

"Are those wild animals in your coat, mister?" Says a voice right behind him, far too close for comfort.

Ford jolts forward with a sharp noise of surprise that he refuses to call a squeak.

When he twists his head back, eyes wide, the waitress is staring back with a scrunched Look of deep disapproval. He thinks somewhat stupidly that the heavy magenta eyeshadow added magnitudes more to its power.

For a moment, his brain just doesn't process the words.

"Wild - wild animals?" He repeats.

She points down at the two furry heads poking out from the neck of his old trenchcoat.

Mabel - he thinks, it's not nearly as easy to tell the two apart as cats than as children - offers a single cheerful meow.

Ford stares down at them, speechless. He... had entirely forgotten they were there. How had he forgotten about two live animals tucked inches away from his own body?

"We don't allow animals in here," the waitress says with a frown. "Got a sign on the door and everything."

She points at it for emphasis. He stares after her finger for a moment too long, expression slack.

The waitress squints at him. "You alright there, mister?"

Ford, Stanley says flatly, you're useless.

Just like that, his mouth stretches into an entirely unfamiliar kind of grin, slow and flirtatious, the kind of expression Ford doesn't think he has ever made in his life.

"Sure I am, sugar," Stan says smoothly. There's an easy confidence to his words that's enough to make Ford feel just a twinge of envy. "I would ask ya the same thing, uh -" He squints at the messy scrawl on the woman's name tag. "- Susan. But I gotta say, it looks to me like you're doing just fine."

He winks. Ford cringes.

The waitress - Susan, he reminds himself - stares at them for a long moment, looking very flustered. Understandably, Ford thinks to himself, considering that from all appearances, he had switched gears from 'confused' to 'Casanova' at the drop of a hat.

"See, I think there's a little bit of a misunderstandin' here."

"How so, mister?"

"This is a family diner, yeah?" Stanley says. He gestures at the door. "Says it right there. 'Greasy's, for the whole family.' Right above that sign about wild animals."

He squints. "Why - why do you have that sign about wild animals anyways?"

Susan blinks. "Well," she says after a moment, "whaddaya know, it sure does!"

"So thing is. These two here, they ain't 'wild animals.'" His brother pauses, for what Ford highly suspects is just for dramatic emphasis. "They're family."

Her eyes widen. Her jaw drops.

Stan leans in closer slyly, going for the kill. "And this can't be a family diner if the whole family can't eat, right?"

In the privacy of his own mind, Ford lets out a deep sigh. This... was entirely ridiculous. It spoke magnitudes about Stanley that he had thought it would actually work. Everything else aside, they had snuck two full-grown cats into a dining establishment in their coat. There were - there were rules against these things, he was sure, rules that he doubted a waitress would -

"Oh hon," Susan chirps, and slaps them on the back hard enough that they choke on their own spit. "Ya should have said somethin' earlier!"

In the span of what feels like a second, the woman's demeanor had transformed entirely. Easy understanding had replaced suspicion on her broad face, and there was a new friendliness to the way she held herself.

"For a moment there, I figured you were one of those characters that come in marrying woodpeckers and kissing raccoons -"

"One of those -" Ford chokes. "Marrying what?"

"- but I can tell now, you're nothin' like 'em. Heck, I can already tell what you are!"

A chill goes down their back, and he doesn't know if it's from him or Stan. Maybe it doesn't matter.

"And," Ford says slowly, with a tone of vague concern, "what is - that?"

"A kindred spirit, handsome!" Susan winks like she doesn't know how to.

"...Oh."

Aaaaaalright, Stan announces, I did the heavy lifting. You're on your own now, Sixer.

Wait -

Somehow, he can tell that his brother is studiously ignoring him. Ford sighs.

"Family! What a perfect way of puttin' it!" Susan gushes. "You're right, why keep 'em cooped up in there? Let your kitties stretch their legs!"

"Are - are you sure that's alright?" He starts to ask, an eyebrow raised. "The sign -"

"Oh hun, this is Gravity Falls," She scoffs. "Just about everyone around here has seen much, much worse in this diner, I bet ya."

That... did absolutely nothing to ease his worries. Ford nods dumbly, more than slightly alarmed by the casual revelation.

The cats stretch out on the diner table, low and lazy. Which... probably wasn't hygienic, but considering the stains and flecks of unknown substance already present when he had sat down, he supposed a few animal hairs wouldn't do much worse to the establishment's bacterial ecosystem.

Mabel, or at least he thinks it's her, looks between him and Susan. She gives him the feline version of a wink. Ford looks at her in horror.

"What are their names?" Susan asks, drawing close, a soft expression on her face. "Your sweet little fur babies."

"They're my niece and nephew, actually," he corrects quickly, edging away, and realizes too late how odd that statement came out without the benefit of context. "But, ah. Dipper and Mabel."

Susan doesn't seem to mind the slip-up, however. In fact, judging by the extra sparkle in her eyes, that only seemed to endear him to her even more.

"Well, my oldest is Mr. Snookums," she says conspiratorially. "He's getting up there in years, maybe just a year or two older than your kitties here. And then there's Mittens, except she's the kind of lady that likes ta put a twist on things, so lately she's been trying out something new. Look, I've got pictures!"

Ford blanches.

It's after noon when Ford peers through the window of the local grocery store with an air of dawning apprehension. No one inside but a lanky teenager with a stunningly large cranium, manning the cash register with an almost physical air of general rebelliousness.

Ford swallows. "Stanley, are you sure it's fine to, ah -"

Relax, poindexter, his brother groans. I take the kids everywhere I go, and I've never run into any trouble.

Very carefully, Ford wonders if that was less about the actual regulations in place and much, much more about nobody wanting to tell a certain casually terrifying individual that he needed to leave his pets outside.

Besides, bringing the cats worked out fine in the diner, right?

"That doesn't count," he retorts immediately. "That woman was - she was obsessed with cats, Stanley, I didn't even know half the things she was talking about., and we talked for two hours."

Hey, I'm not seeing how that's a bad thing.

"Two. Hours."

Hell, I didn't even know the 'not having a collarbone' thing. I mean, it's not like the kids would have known about that. Though, Stan says thoughtfully, that definitely explains some of the crazy places they've gotten into over the ears.

"If you enjoyed it so much," Ford snips, "perhaps you should have spoken to her instead."

Nah. By the looks of you, Sixer, you haven't talked to another human being for a loooong time. Better a nice lady with a whole lot to say about cats than, uh. Mr. Potato Head inside there.

"Stanley."

What? I call it when I see it. Guy's head is disproportional.

Ford lets out a long sigh, and carefully does not admit that his brother was right about Susan. The social interaction had been overwhelming and occasionally bewildering, but it had been - a comforting sort of normal, in a way that nothing in his world had been for a very long time now.

Just chatting with a waitress in a diner about the best way to brush a cat. Nothing like his angry confrontation with Fiddleford, or the conversations he had with Bill that just thinking about made him reel with self-disgust. Nothing like everything that had happened since his brother had shown up at his door, just yesterday.

He walks into the store with his back straight, carefully ignoring the furry ears rubbing against his chin.

Then just as Ford steps over the doorway, there's a loud welcome chime.

He flinches, and jerks back with so much force that he knocks over the store display right next to him.

The cardboard figure hits the ground with a too loud thwap. The teenaged cashier glances up at him, a strangely intense look in his eyes.

"Apologies," Ford says stiffly, and awkwardly moves to stand it back up.

What the hell was that?

"I didn't expect the sound," he admits reluctantly.

"Who are you talking to?" The teenager asks, an odd look on his face. His voice is an entirely unexpected baritone, one that fits his craggy face but is strange with his frame.

"No one," Ford says, a bit too quickly. "Just - ah, just wanted to hear the sound of my own voice -"

Ford, shut up and just keep walking.

He does clumsily, and almost trips over his own feet. The cashier's stare feels heavy on his back all the way.

So. Grocery shopping. You want some of uh. Eggs, or something? Cheese? People buy cheese, right?

"...Stanley?"

You're on your own for this, pal. Look, I'm dead. I haven't had to eat for a long, long time. Thank God, because from what I remember hunger was uh.

A long, telling pause.

Not fun at all.

Ford looks up, and then even further up at the cans and boxes that line the shelves and seem almost to reach up to the ceiling. There's oats, then organic oats, then something about added sugar or reduced sodium and -

"I'm a bit rusty with grocery shopping myself," he confesses.

What, Stan says skeptically, you would rather eat out, now that you've got a college degree and big science money?

"Stanley, I told you, that's not how research funding works. I can't just spend that money on anything I want - "

Ford cuts himself off before he can go on the whole rant. He has a sneaking suspicion that telling his undead brother about the intricacies of research grants and scientific stipends was pointless.

"No," he says instead, voice clipped. "I just didn't eat."

His brother goes quiet at that. ...Well, all I know how to buy is food for the kids, and as horrible as I'm guessing your eating habits are I doubt you wanna get cat food -

Ford coughs. "Yes, not cat food would be good."

...You want stuff that doesn't go bad quickly, right? Canned stuff would be good for that, you can probably figure out how to fry bacon or something for the extra protein. Hell, you know what, eggs aren't a bad idea. And maybe some uh, green stuff. Vegetables. Spinach, kale, whatever.

"Stanley -"

Eh, what do responsible adults eat? Hell if I know.

"Stanley, that's - a great deal of food," he says carefully.

That's the point, Sixer.

"The issue is, ah. I can't afford all of that."

There's a long silence.

You can't - afford all of that, Stan says blankly. Like, you don't got enough money for it?

"Y-Yes, that's usually what it means to not be able to afford something -"

But you have money, his brother argues uncomprehendingly. You went to college, didn't ya? Isn't that what going to college is for?

Ford blinks, entirely thrown off-guard. "No, that's -" He starts off weakly, and then goes quiet with sudden realization.

He had been away from his family for years now, keeping the bare minimum of contact. So it had been easy to forget, surrounded by other college students and even more educated professors, that his household had always held a very fundamental misunderstanding of what higher education entailed.

Filbrick Pines had lived his entire life working for a living, and the idea of putting effort into studying something with no direct financial reward was entirely disjointed from his reality. Ford had smiled (grimaced, if he had to be entirely truthful) along with his father's loud boasts about how his boy was going to make the whole family rich, that his college admission meant they were all set for life.

It had been easier then to just stay quiet. Though, of course, that just meant the inevitable fallout was just that much more explosive.

But Stanley hadn't been there. He had left home long before Filbrick realized that Ford's research grants weren't free money, before the big argument that had ended with Ford admitting that no, his studies weren't going to make them rich, not any time soon, and no, that was never what college was for. Not for him, and he had gotten his degree for himself, not anyone else.

Which meant, this whole time, his brother had thought -

"Going to college didn't make me rich," Ford says at last. "It was... almost the opposite, really. Backupsmore gave me a full scholarship, but I had to take out loans and work on the side to eat and pay for textbooks. I got money to come out here for my research, and I suppose it's a large enough amount as a lump sum. But I need to justify all of my expenditures to the committee that approved me, and..."

He smiles wryly. "As it turns out, research scientists don't prioritize 'quality of life' too highly."

...Huh.

The words had come out almost terrifyingly easy, and it hits Ford suddenly that it's the most he's told his brother about his life in their years apart in... well. Very possibly ever. It's an odd feeling, one that comes with something like regret and slightly more like panic.

But mostly like relief.

Geez, Stan says suddenly, you could've just said so earlier. And here I thought you were stuck on an actual problem.

"An actual problem," Ford repeats blankly. "So you're saying this isn't an actual problem."

Sure. We can just steal.

A beat.

"You," Ford says, horrified, "want to do what?"

His voice cuts off suddenly, entirely out of his control.

You wanna say that any louder? Stan groans. Trust me, Mr. Potato Head doesn't want to care, but keep shouting about robbing this place and he's gonna have to.

"Don't call him tha - Stanley, I refuse to steal," Ford hisses under his breath, entirely scandalized.

Eh, suit yourself, his brother mutters casually, too casually. There's a loaf of bread down your shirt, by the way. And half a dozen oranges up your sleeve.

He freezes. "How did you - when did you -"

Don't ask questions you don't want answers to, pal.

"Stanley."

Stan hesitates, then sighs.

Look, I didn't have to eat, but I had to feed the kids somehow. And it wasn't like I was getting any kind of real job, with how I look. You figured out a way to make the system work for you, and guess what? So did I. Maybe it isn't as pretty. Or as legal.

He's quiet, for a moment.

...But it works. So shut it, alright?

Hearing that makes Ford's mouth goes dry. For the second that day, it hits him just how thankful he is that Stan can't hear his thoughts.

"Alright," he says hoarsely. "Do what you have to do."

"There's something wrong," Ford says quietly, about thirty minutes after they leave the store with something like a week's groceries stuffed in various pockets and folds.

Not about the stealing. The cashier - 'Ivan', as his name-tag introduced him as with an unfitting cheerfulness - hadn't looked twice at him when he paid for a single carton of eggs to keep up appearances. He hadn't seemed at all thrown off by his meager purchase, or even the two cats peeking out from the neck of his coat.

But there was a strange intensity in the way he had stared after him as he left, It reminded him of the looks the townspeople had given him on the streets that morning, how some of the other diner customers had turned to glance at his table as he talked to Susan and ate an uncomfortably filling breakfast.

"I'm being watched."

What, like right now? Stan says skeptically.

"No, this - this whole day. People have been staring at me. Following my movements."

Ford, you haven't showered in a week, you've got two full-grown cats hitching a ride in your coat, and as far as everyone's concerned you've been talkin' to yourself this whole time, Stan says flatly, sounding distinctly unimpressed.

"Still -"

Honestly, Sixer, I would be shocked if people weren't staring at you.

That... was true.

But...

For just a moment, Ford hesitates, ready to argue -

- and doesn't.

He lets out a sigh. He's tired, the bone-deep exhaustion and general stress of the past several months hitting him all at once.

Ford... doesn't want to think, can't think. Not right now.

"You're right," he says at last. "Let's go home."

They do, but it's Stan who pilots their body for most of it.

He's the one who gets the groceries put away and cooks an omelette that turns into scrambled eggs somewhere along the way, on a range that sputters and dies before the liquid gets all the way solid (Ford scarfs it down anyways - he's facing a host of much more immediate dangers than salmonella.) He piles firewood that Ford had completely forgot he still had into the fireplace, and struggles to light the flames with a box of soggy, year-old matches.

It ends with him curled up on the least destroyed armchair he has, moth-bitten blanket clumsily draped over himself, two warm bodies snuggled in and purring on his lap.

Somewhere distantly, he wonders if, just maybe, he had forgotten something.

With the fireplace roaring just a few feet away and the feeling of soft fur under his hands, Ford doesn't even notice when he falls asleep.

[fxckinginsaneinthebrain]

Cuddle Up a Little Closer - A Domesticity/Intimacy Prompts Meme (Accepting)

20 - Talking about having kids

Of course.

How in the hell had she not seen this coming?

Seen what coming, you may ask? Well; that would be a very, very long story, which started immediately after their wedding, when their friend Dana and Trevor had asked them to be Godmothers to their (then unborn) daughter.

Max had been absolutely smitten from the get-go with baby Ferne, attending the classes and sonograms that needed her presence, as both Godmother and birthing partner, eventually being present at the delivery of the healthy, happy baby girl in the Summer of 2019.

Chloe had seen it in her wife’s eyes, when the little girl had been placed into Max’s arms by Dana. She’d seen the absolute love towards the baby, and she’d known there and then that the discussion she’d been waiting on for months was on its way.

She’d thrown herself into it with gusto, babysitting when needed, and helping decorate the new-born’s room with the ‘Rustic Chic’ style she’d become known for, adding a touch of pink to signify that the inhabitant was, in fact, a baby girl. And when Trevor had pulled Max aside only weeks after Ferne’s birth, asking her if she’d be able to do a baby photo shoot for them, she’d jumped at the chance.

Months passed, and what Chloe had jokingly dubbed ‘baby fever’ died down notably. Though her wife was still nuts about their Goddaughter, her career had once again taken the upper hand, with newer and more exciting opportunities popping up almost daily for shoots and jobs. It seemed that Chloe had avoided the imminent conversation.

But she was wrong.

When she’d come home one night to find Max seemingly whizzing around their kitchen, cleaning everything in sight and cooking up what could only be described as slop in her own (misguided) attempt at making a meal from scratch, she’d  known something was up.

Max never cooked; mainly because she was notoriously bad at it. So that was the first noticeable thing that was off, with the second being the speed that her wife was moving around their kitchen. Normally she’d come home to find her curled up on the sofa, having put some rice or pasta on the stove, reading over what she needed for  work, while waiting for Chloe to return home to add the bulk into the meal.

It was only after the world’s most awkward, silent dinner that Chloe finally spoke up, putting down her spoon with a small grunt, leaning back in her chair, and moving her foot to nudge against her wife’s shin under the table. “C’mon, Maximus; spill your shit.”

The brunette gulped, pushing away her plate with a small sigh, and leaning forward; her plaid-covered arms resting on the table, as her hands fiddled with her silver wedding band nervously, her eyes moving up to lock with Chloe’s.

She gulped, pressing her lips into a line, before speaking, her voice quiet and soft. “Chlo, hon’, before I say this; you have to believe me when I say it’s been… god, a long time coming. I’ve been thinking about this so much for the last few months, and I… God, uh…”

She took a deep breath, reaching out and setting her hand over the blue haired woman’s hand, squeezing it supportively, and eventually deciding to just come out with it, seeing the concerned expression now on her wife’s face.

“Chloe, I want a baby.”

Chloe’s jaw dropped. Her hand slackened, and she shifted away slightly in her chair, moving her hands up to run through her hair in shock.

No. No, no, no, they were not ready. This was… fucking huge! They’d only been married a year! And all of a sudden, Max wanted a child?!

“M-Max, this is… Jesus fucking Christ where’d this come from…?”

The brunette’s face fell at her wife’s reaction, a sigh leaving her and her voice once again giving out, as she took her attention back to the plate in front of her, both disappointed and a little embarrassed. “I told you, Chloe.” She replied, almost tiredly, as she gathered up their plates and cutlery into a pile, so she’d be able to move them once they’d finished talking. “I’ve… I’ve been thinking about this for months. Even before Ferne was born, to be honest. And just… When I saw you hold her that first time, I… It kinda sunk in just how much I wanted that with you.”

The blue haired woman relaxed only a little upon learning that it wasn’t just out of the blue that Max had thought of this; that it wasn’t just a spur of the moment thing. But still… a baby? A child?

After what seemed like an eternity, Chloe gulped, and ran a hand up to her jaw, pulling at it only slightly as it slipped away again, shock still evident. Her brain was practically screaming at her, every insecurity she’d ever had or felt bubbling up to the surface with each passing moment.

On one hand, she wanted nothing more than to settle with Max. She’d married her for chrissake. But at the same time, did she really want a child to turn out like her? Because that – as her brain screeched – was what would happen. Would she want their baby to turn out an angry, rebellious teenager who felt as alone as she had? With her genes, or even her parenthood, she’d somehow screw their life up, and she knew it.

“I… Max, I… I don’t know…” She managed to choke out, her face still pale, and her voice soft and squeaky. “I… This is a big, big responsibility… And we’re both working—“

“Chloe, do you really think I haven’t thought about this?” Max interrupted, her eyes once again moving up from her hands, to stare into Chloe’s, honest oozing from her in waves. “Sure, we both work. But that’s what’s good about me freelancing. I can go through the nine months of pregnancy and literally work until the day I go into labour. Plus, you pretty much work on Commission at the Tattoo Studio, and it’s not like you’re a bad employee, either, so you’d have no problems getting leave after he or she comes.”

The outburst was followed by an awkward, yet comfortable silence falling between the two women, the only sound in the apartment being the low hum of the oven fan cooling down the appliance, and their radio playing a soft love song in the background.

“… You’ve really thought about all of this… Haven’t you…?”  Chloe eventually muttered, breaking the silence, and looking across at Max, who promptly nodded her head, reaching out with a hand and covering her Wife’s, grasping it tightly.

“Yes, Chloe… For months now…” She replies softly now, smiling through the tears that had built up in the silence that had passed. “I want this with you, Chloe… I want a baby… I want our baby… Regardless of biology, or who carries. I just… I want this for us.”

Upon seeing that, Chloe broke. She couldn’t stand to see Max so upset. So, instead, she leaned in and pressed a long, loving kiss to the brunette’s lips, trying to put everything into it that she possibly could.

When they broke apart, Max gulped, and rested her hands against Chloe’s chest, pressing their foreheads together, before taking a deep breath, and speaking up again, this time softer than before.

“So… This is it…? We’re… We’re trying…? As in trying-trying…? For a baby?” She asked lowly, as if scared of the answer. However, her fears were immediately elevated, as Chloe grinned, leaning in for another kiss, while saying one sentence, just as their lips met in a more passionate, heated kiss.

“… Hella yes, Price-Caulfield…”

[chpkns]

BEST ALBUMS 2018

Ok here we go again for 2018, shall we?

Hon. Mentions: Negro Swan - Blood Orange; Singularity - Jon Hopkins; Elsewhere - Ryan Hemsworth; Scorpion - Drake; Diplomatic Ties - The Diplomats; Some Rap Songs - Earl Sweatshirt; FM! - Vince Staples; Rally Cry - Arkells; I’m All Ears - Let’s Eat Grandma; Be The Cowboy - Mitski; Kamikaze - Eminem; Ye - Kanye West; KIDS SEE GHOSTS - Kanye West and Kid Cudi; Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino - Arctic Monkeys; Black Panther: The Album - Kendrick Lamar, et al; KOD - J. Cole; Culture II - Migos; Hive Mind - The Internet; God’s Favorite Customer - Father John Misty; Blood - Rhye; Both Ways - Donovan Woods; Songs of the Plains - Colter Wall

10) Swimming - Mac Miller

This one was tough. Malcolm James McCormick’s fifth studio album was barely out three months before he left us. It’s hard to evaluate Swimming in isolation of Miller’s untimely death at age 26. Especially since, in my mind, the album represents something of a turning point for the former frat rapper. Recorded in the wake of Miller’s high profile breakup with Ariana Grande and in the midst of public struggles with addiction, Swimming is full of heartache and soul bearing self-reflection. Sonically, Mac’s airy raps and crooning vocals float over jazzy beats and orchestral accompaniments, with help from Thundercat and Dev Hynes. There’s room for fun as well amid the melancholy - the more upbeat Ladders and What’s the Use? are sure enough to keep a dance floor moving. The worst thing about Swimming is really how good it is, and how it felt like Mac Miller was on the cusp on something great we’ll now never see. 

Highlights: Self Care, What’s The Use?, 2009, Ladders

9) QUARTERTHING - Joey Purp

Chance the Rapper’s Savemoney compatriot Joey Purp is like a breath of fresh air. QUARTERTHING’s 14 tracks, most clocking in at under 3 minutes, come fast and furious like Purp’s (mostly) un-autotuned flow. Joey’s full throated, almost Meek-Mill-esque, delivery gives the album a mixtape-like authenticity - notwithstanding the varied and expert production from the likes of RZA, Knox Fortune and frequent Chance collaborator Nate Fox. The opening 24k Gold/Sanctified, and Hallelujah just two tracks later, feel downright celebratory pairing Purp’s flow behind a blaring big band sound. Others, like Look At My Wrist and Paint Thinner, are Chicago Drill and house inspired, feeling like they’d be right at home in a sweaty club basement. Lyrically, Purp is a classic hip-hop storyteller and street documentarian, drawing from experiences in a former life selling drugs and the violence of his home city. This impressive studio album debut is more than enough to solidify Joey Purp’s place among an exciting new generation of Chicago rappers.

Highlights: 24k Gold/Sanctified (ft. Ravyn Lenae & Jack Red), Godbody (ft. RZA) [Pt. 2], Hallelujah, Look At My Wrist (ft. Cdot Honcho), Karl Malone

8) Golden Hour - Kacey Musgraves

Kacey Musgraves is clearly in the pantheon of artists that can’t release an album without it making this list (I rated Pageant Material #8 in 2015 and Same Trailer, Different Park #9 in 2013... both criminally underrated in retrospect). Musgraves continued to be a revelation with her third album. There was a great Ezra Koenig quote last year, where he talked about seeing Musgraves’ concert and being inspired by the clarity of her music: “from the first verse, you knew who was singing, who they were singing to, what kind of situation they were in”. On Golden Hour, she maintains that clarity, stretching a little more outside the traditional country sound into pop and disco-inspired melodies. I do miss the dry humour and rebellious spirit of the previous two Musgraves outings, I’ll admit. You won’t find any overt weed references here, but Kacey finds plenty of ways to remind us how few fucks she gives about the Nashville country establishment. Golden Hour also shows off some of Musgraves’ strongest songwriting to date - the sprawling Space Cowboy stands out as one of the best singles of the year in any genre. I’m probably in the minority in thinking Golden Hour is not my favourite Kacey Musgraves album, but it’s still one of my favourite albums of 2018.

Highlights: Slow Burn, Space Cowboy, High Horse, Love is a Wild Thing

7) Lush - Snail Mail

It’s about to become clear that there is a “women in indie rock” movement happening on this year’s list. The debut album from 18 year old singer-songwriter Lindsey Jordan is one of the most aptly titled records of 2018. Lush’s indie rock soundscapes are just that. Loud, full and richly textured. Jordan’s crystal clear vocals soar and float above her ringing guitar chords and riffs. The songwriting is perhaps what you’d expect from an 18 year old, full of heartbreak, confusion and teen angst. She does it well though. As the first chorus builds on Heat Wave, Jordan’s voice builds: “And I hope whoever it is Holds their breath around you, 'Cause I know I did”. The album’s standout track for me is Full Control which crescendos to a refrain of: “I'm in full control, I'm not lost, Even when it's love, Even when it's not.” At the same time, Lush exudes a maturity and a nostalgia that hearkens back to Snail Mail’s spiritual predecessors like Cat Power or Fiona Apple. Snail Mail was one of many reasons that 2018 gave me hope that there’s a future for indie rock and “guitar music” generally. I’m very much looking forward to seeing what’s next.

Highlights: Pristine, Full Control, Deep Sea, Heat Wave

6) boygenius EP - boygenius

The only thing that ever held me back from including boygenius on this list was my long held view that “an EP is not an album”. Well, since Kanye decided that 7 songs can be an “album” why not 6? Any album that has 6 songs as good as the 6 on boygenius EP would make this list! boygenius is the indie “supergroup” made up of Phoebe Bridgers, Lucy Dacus and the holder of last year’s #3 album on this list, Julien Baker - all accomplished solo acts in their own right. Predictably, the whole is something greater than the sum of its parts. boygenius EP’s six songs are a tour de force amalgam of indie, country and folk (owing to the band’s cross-genre Nashville and Viriginia roots) full of raw emotion and grit. Dacus, Bridgers and Baker seem made to perform, and sing, together. The harmonies on this record make boygenius sound like an indie rock iteration of Destiny’s Child or an edgier, less twangy version of the Dixie Chicks. The songs do not hold back, with high highs and low lows. On Me & My Dog, the soaring chorus evokes an escapist dream: “I wish I was on a spaceship, Just me and my dog and an impossible view”. The emotional highpoint of the record might be Baker and Bridgers’ chorus on Salt in the Wound apexing with: “I’m gnashing my teeth, Like a child of Cain, If this is a prison I’m willing to buy my own chain”. I can’t stop watching live videos of these three - they seem so at home onstage together. As excited as I’d be to see boygenius become more than a side project, I’m equally excited to see what’s next for Bridgers, Dacus and Baker on their own.

Highlights: Me & My Dog, Stay Down, Salt In the Wound, Ketchum ID

5) DAYTONA - Pusha T

YUGH! Amid Kanye’s unhinged tweets, messy, disorganized projects, and Oval Office visits, DAYTONA, the 7 track album he entirely produced for G.O.O.D. Music veteran Pusha T, was one thing that gave us hope that Kanye hadn’t completely lost his touch (or his mind) in 2018. DAYTONA showcases both producer Kanye and King Push at the absolute peak of their talents. It’s amazing, in this era of Xanax-fuelled mumblerap, to think how long we’ve been listening to Kanye and Push do their thing. Lord Willin’ introduced the world to Pusha T in 2002 (alongside his brother Malice, as he then was, as the iconic rap duo Clipse). The College Dropout came out two years later. I still remember buying the CDs and wearing out my discman with both of them. It’s easy to forget that Kanye and Terrence “King Push” Thornton are both 41 years old! There’s something refreshing about two guys in their forties still being able to make a banging rap record about selling drugs and buying expensive shit. Push said DAYTONA was made “for my family...high taste level, luxury, drug raps fans.”  Those fans are well served by DAYTONA. After the beat comes in on album opener If You Know You Know, Push sounds like he’s speaking directly to his day one fans, raising a styrofoam cup to: “This thing of ours, oh, this thing of ours”. The album exudes the bravado of an MC on top of his game confident in the knowledge that he’s spitting bars on a classic. And we can’t forget the incendiary Infrared, the song that touched off a vicious beef between Pusha T and rap’s biggest star, Drake, ending after Push revealed in a diss track that Drake was hiding his son from the world. Almost 20 years on, Pusha T is still ready to go war, still “clickin’ like Golden State” and still wearing the crown as King Push. Long may he reign.

Highlights: If You Know You Know, The Games We Play, Hard Piano (ft. Rick Ross), Infrared

4) Honey - Robyn

I found myself slightly disappointed in Honey at first, largely because my expectations for Robyn’s first album in eight years were based on the high energy electro-pop brilliance of 2010′s Body Talk. What I should have realized is that, if Robyn were going to make another Body Talk, she wouldn’t have kept us waiting this long. Honey is not Body Talk - you won’t find another Call Your Girlfriend or Dancing on My Own among its nine silky smooth tracks. But it is no less brilliant. If I can forget that Beach2k20 exists for a second, it feels pretty darn close to a perfect album. Honey betrays a lighter touch for Robyn, perhaps more in tune with the sound of the moment. A little more euro house and disco tinged, Honey furthers the Swedish songstress’s long evolution away from the pop idol of her late 90′s past. Honey still embodies Robyn’s signature juxtaposition of electronic dance rhythms alongside themes of sadness, loneliness and heartbreak. And songs like Honey and Missing U can still light up any dancefloor. The highlight for me is the slow-building Send to Robin Immediately, which just swells over its Lil Louis sample as Robyn urges the listener into action: “If you got something to say, say it right away. If you got something to do, do what's right for you. If you got somebody to love, give that love today. Know you got nothing to lose, there's no time to waste”. In between albums, and while writing Honey, Robyn lived through the death of a longtime collaborator and a breakup and reunion with a romantic partner. The emotional toll of these experiences seem to shine through. Robyn told the BBC’s Annie Mac earlier this year: “When I wrote this album I think I was quite tired of myself writing sad love songs, but I did anyway and looking back on that now, I think it's OK for things to be sad. Combining it with something that's bright and strong and powerful is a way of finding your way out of the sadness.” 

Highlights: Missing U, Human Being (ft. Zhala), Send to Robin Immediately, Honey

3) Clean - Soccer Mommy

Clean, the impressive debut album from 20 year old Nashville singer-songwriter Sophie Allison, was the first album I heard this year that I 100% knew would be on this list. By the time Your Dog hits at the third track, I was completely enthralled. That song is so goddamn rock and roll with Allison sparing no mercy for the subject shitty boyfriend of the opening verse: “I don't wanna be your fucking dog, That you drag around, A collar on my neck tied to a pole, Leave me in the freezing cold”. Elsewhere, on Still Clean, Allison plays with gruesome animalistic imagery singing of an ex-lover picking her “out your bloody teeth”. There is a warmer side to Clean as well. Scorpio Rising, with it’s “bubbly and sweet like Coca-Cola” softness and lyrics about meeting up after dark and missed calls from your mother definitely remind you that Allison is a self-professed devotee of Taylor Swift’s early work (which should give you another idea of why I love this album). Speaking of T-Swift, the rollicking Last Girl almost mirrors You Belong With Me in describing the crushing insecurity of comparing oneself to a new partner’s ex, somehow pulling off lyrics like “I want to be like your last girl, She's the sun in your cold world and, I am just a dying flower, I don't hold the summer in my eyes” as if that were a totally normal thing to say. Beneath the upbeat riff of Cool, where Allison idolizes the cool girl “with a heart of coal, She’ll break you down and eat you whole” is the understanding that being that person won’t bring her the happiness she seeks. Acceptance of one’s emotions and insecurities is the core theme of Clean - that “You gon’ be like that” (as Allison put it to the Fader) and you’ll be happier once you accept you for you. In many ways, Clean evokes a similar vibe to the Snail Mail and boygenius entries further up this year’s list, as a scrappy “girl with a guitar” indie record and a tongue-in-cheek stage name. That sense of charming honesty is what, I think, makes Clean stand above the other entries on this list.

Highlights: Cool, Your Dog, Last Girl, Scorpio Rising

2) Lamp Lit Prose - Dirty Projectors

The first of our top two is another repeat offender on this list (a previous incarnation of the Projectors’ Swing Lo Magellan had #7 back in 2012 and last year’s eponymous Dirty Projectors was my 2017 #8). I loved every minute of Lamp Lit Prose - it’s almost a 1B for me on this list and was pencilled in at 1 for a time in the drafting process. This album has everything that was good about last year’s DPs record but is, ultimately, tighter, more fun, less weird and less sad. Dave Longstreth appears to have moved on (at least musically) from the emotions he was working through on Dirty Projectors, which was essentially an extended meditation on the breakup of his relationship with Amber Coffman and the band’s upheaval. With Lamp Lit Prose, his “new look” Dirty Projectors (with help from friends like Syd, Rostam and HAIM) have put together something a little more traditional (by Dirty Projectors standards) and a lot more listenable. Longstreth told Exclaim that this album, compared its morose predecessor, “is really about feeling hope again, finding the things that give us hope, that make us feel optimistic and joyful.” Lamp Lit Prose falls somewhere between the twangly, jam band atmosphere of the Projector’s Swing Lo Magellan and Bitte Orca heyday and the more experimental, electronic-infused vibe of the Dirty Projectors released 18 months prior. Longstreth’s guitar riffs are again front and centre, but the voice modulation and distorted electronic sounds are still there, albeit in a more subtle way. Four part harmonies bounce over the jazzy melodies and hopeful lyrics. Where he was mourning a lost love on the last record, here we see Longstreth “in love for the first time ever” on I Found It In U (a salvaged beat from his work on Solange’s last album). On Break Thru, the un-named romantic subject is held up as “an epiphany” with comparisons in quick succession to Archimedes, Fellini and Julian Casablancas. The horn-backed chorus on What Is The Time is the high point of the record for me - the kind of song that makes you want to raise your voice and join in on the hook. All in all, it’s just great to hear this band making fun music again. Lamp Lit Prose is upbeat, creative and simply a joy to listen to. I absolutely loved this album... but just not quite enough to edge out our number 1.

Highlights: Break-Thru, That’s a Lifestyle, I Found It In U, What Is The Time

1) ASTROWORLD - Travis Scott

IT’S LIT!!! I would have never predicted that a Travis Scott album would land here at number 1, but here we are. And I feel good about it. ASTROWORLD dominated my listening from its mid-summer release onward and, with each spin, I became increasingly convinced of its greatness. Travis is an artist that I’ve long found perplexing. Insanely popular among his legions of young fans, he embodies so much of the “new rap” ethos, the first genre of music where I’ve started to feel like I might be ‘too old’ to enjoy it. It was clear on his prior outings, Rodeo and Birds in the Trap Sing McKnight, that the talent and creativity was there, but the overall product always seemed messy, disorganized, unpolished. With ASTROWORLD, Scott finally has made his Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. The album is named for a former Six Flags theme park in Scott’s hometown of Houston that was torn down a decade ago and still sits vacant. Previewing the title of the album, Scott told GQ last year: "They tore down AstroWorld to build more apartment space. That's what it's going to sound like, like taking an amusement park away from kids. We want it back. We want the building back. That's why I'm doing it. It took the fun out of the city." True to his word, the album’s 17 tracks are tied together by an overarching creepy, grimy sound. Listening to ASTROWORLD feels like walking through an abandoned theme park. Even more impressive is how Travis, as curator of the album’s varied guest list, bends the star studded guest appearances to his will, fitting them in perfectly to his dank sonic menagerie. The likes of Frank Ocean, the Weeknd, Swae Lee, Tame Impala and James Blake don’t overpower Scott’s vision but blend into the scenery, their talents employed perfectly by Travis in the role of ringmaster. Newcomers get some shine too, like Scott’s Cactus Jack labelmate Sheck Wes who gets a guest verse on NO BYSTANDERS and a shoutout to his ubiquitous single from Travis on 5% TINT: “We did some things out on the ways that we can't speak, All I know it was "Mo Bamba" on repeat”. And then, there’s SICKO MODE. Why is it that the best Drake song each year invariably comes from someone else’s album, even in a year where Drizzy himself releases a double album? The ASTROWORLD track list, at least initially, left out the featured artists, so hearing Drake’s voice over the opening notes of the album’s third track was the first time most listeners had any indication that the 6ixgod himself would be making an appearance. What a wonderful surprise it turns out to be. SICKO MODE, the album’s best track, feels like three or four different songs as the beat changes form and Travis and Drake pass the mic back and forth. The song’s Tay Keith produced final act (the “out like a light” part) is for my money the best two minutes of hip hop music made in 2018. ASTROWORLD succeeds on its grandeur, vision and consistency. Travis Scott set out to build something big and from the moment the bass kicks in on STARGAZING through to the mellow, string backed denouement of COFFEE BEAN, he succeeds at every turn. ASTROWORLD was 2018′s biggest, most creative, most sonically consistent and most fun album in hip-hop. In my estimation, it’s the best album of the year.

Highlights: STARGAZING, CAROUSEL (ft. Frank Ocean), SICKO MODE (ft. Drake, Swae Lee and Big Hawk), WAKE UP (ft. The Weeknd), CAN’T SAY (ft. Don Toliver)

That’s all folks. Thanks for reading and see ya in 2019.

[kawaiiicheesecake-blog]

Day 9

We were meant to head down to Hon Son island today, but it rained too much in the early morning and when we tried to catch the last ferry from mainland to the island we realised 2 people forgot their ID… Come on guys!!!!

So we went to Seaview Coffee to have breakfast. It was alright, presentation was good but tasted okay. I had com suong bi trung (rice with pork chops, shredded pork and egg) it also came with soup, fresh veggies and cha which is similar to a loaf… but don’t ask me what was in it, I have no clue. I was honestly going for normal rice because com tam (broken rice) is often dry and I just don’t like it. #fluffyriceplease

We ended deciding to head back into the country to my grandfather’s and aunt’s house (next to each other ish) to visit my aunt and other cousin and to light incense.

** Please note I was a bit eeek about the bathroom at the place I was staying at so I’m like fuck no I’ll pee later on the island… since we didn’t end up going to the island the restaurant was my next hope but they were out of order… WHAT THE FUCK YOU HAD SO MANY LEVELS?? Anyway I have stayed at my aunts house before (4 years ago) and though the toilets were eh they weren’t hugely grossing me out.**

Back to the “recap”:

It was quite a bit of a drive back into the country area but we made it. I was rather sad to see the big old lab no longer around, but it was expected. Poor girl was already 16 years old when 4 years ago. I just hope she went well and peacefully and was placed to rest NOT TURNED INTO FOOD (fucking nasty ass asians). My last visit here one of the small dogs passed away and the guys down the street literally asked to have it (for food) I was like omg no wtf? But my aunt not wanting to deal with the corpse said yes. LADY WHY???

But even more sad then the dog story, THE BLOODY TOILET HAD NO WATER…. I COULDN’T FLUSH SO I WOULDN’T GO. Just why man? Honestly all I wanted was a clean functional facility to do my business in.

I took a picture from the kitchen of the “backyard” Paddy field. This is what got my family to where it is today. It’s what my grandparents did and what one of my uncle and aunt and a few cousins is doing. Many have decided to go their own way with careers on different fields, however i feel as though a few is sticking around just so they can inherit land. I don’t really care to be honest, my mum has some land but I’m just like I don’t live here no point doing anything about it. If my family wants to rent it so neighbours can make money or grow crops then let them do what they want. To tell the truth I wanted to go into the lady field to catch fish or just muck around… but I know my aunt will be like no no it’s all muddy and you may get leeches… but I think that mud is cleaner than the house hahah

Lunch was alright just rice paper rolls with beef cooked in butter and leafy greens and hotpot… I’m not really a hotpot person, there’s so many weird shit in it. Also I’ve eaten so many herbs and leaves lately I feel like a cow, I use to be so picky back home admit hard cause the flavour is too strong. There’s this one that Vietnamese people love (I’m not sure about the other countries) but it tastes fishy… Bleghh

My main source of entertainment in this place was the kittens. THERE WAS A NEVER ENDING AMOUNT OF KITTENS!!! They were awfully thin which makes me think of how spoilt my* cat Pizza is at home. She’s so fat and at least 2 other neighbours feed her.

Drivers are so Yolo here…. reading texts & playing games whilst driving and drinking even though they know they are driving. Worst of all no one wears seatbelts. Except for me… I may be a loser but I’m gonna be alive bitches!!!

On the way back to Rach Gia’s city we stopped by a restaurant called Vuong Co - roughly translated to bird garden. This place is set up like a drink up area, it has little huts along the river set up around natural pre-existing trees. These trees have been fenced off from the public so that the birds can live in peace… PEACE UNTIL THE RESTAURANT OWNERS CATCH THEM AND TURN THEM INTO FOOD!!! I mean it’s nice to see that the environment is rather natural and doesn’t interfere with nature. These birds are free to come and go they are not kept as pets (not fee just caught). But yeah it’s weird to see them alive then on a plate. Vietnamese people are like savages bro.

Then there are 2 of my derp neices. The one with short hair falls asleep a lot, and literally was sleeping whilst standing because she refused to sit down and then dozed off. She can be described as leader of the mafia, super mean and rebellious. Ain’t afraid of no one, and would go find a stick to hit anyone to get her way or just for fun (kittens, children and adults… no one is safe. The one with the fringe is like a speaker with endless amounts of battery. She speaks so well and unfortunately NEVER STOPS. She has a very sweet mouth but girl why the f*ck you Lyin? Why you always Lying❔❓♪

Finally dinner.. Honestly this post is so long I’m about to fall asleep writing it!!!

Dinner we had some fish I think it was sardeines (ca trich). 2 dishes the fish was steamed? I’m just guessing here… But the middle dish with limes is the same fish raw. It’s like a salad with raw fish that it was hella good. We also ordered some Banh xeo Vietnamese pancakes from the store across the road haha

I fell asleep before posting -.-

* random stray cat chose us to take care ofnit

[sterlinghamilton]

The Experiment (Final Fantasy VII)

"So... how have your grades been?" The silence in the car had been suffocating as the Strife family drove to the central station of the city. The father in the front drivers seat, the mother on his right, and a boy of only 16 in the back. This must have been some kind of joke for a higher power, to push a broken family together for the day. A higher power meaning school... which Cloud went to, which decided to host a 'take your child to work day' and considering both parents worked in a section of the facility, he had no choice but to wake up at the crack of dawn and follow his parents to the worst place in the city. Growing up in a rather nice area, Cloud had the fortunate experience to hear what this corporation was known for on the streets, 'experiments', 'people going missing', 'hitmen' all where great ways to describe what went on behind the tall fences of Shinra headquarters. They masked as a power plant, their commercials seemed innocent enough but it only took one babbling gossiper to turn the good name into a monster. So to grow up in a family where both parents worked for the creepy place, Cloud never disclosed what his parents did to any of his friends. He could have been at a bakers shop, or travelling the under section of the city, instead he was subjected to a terrible start to a terrible day.

Eyes the colour of the sky slowly closed and his elbow leaned against the car window, he didn't really want to have small talk with his father, both parents knew Cloud's attitude towards what they were pushing him to become. In order to keep his sanity he had taken it upon himself to get a job at a local shop as a delivery boy, his parents didn't seem to notice, not that they ever did. Both worked from 5 am until 10 pm every day, they're jobs took over their lives, and they wanted him to follow in their footsteps? "Tech." Was the only reply from the boy while his father glanced at him through the mirror.

"Tech?" He heard the disapproving tone in his fathers voice before the subject was dropped, Cloud could be a little... emotional at time.

"Honey, we know you don't like getting up early, but I really think this will teach you a lot about your future!" His mom tried to explain as she turned to look in the back seat at her son, Cloud rolled his eyes, and she scowled at his rebelious nature. "One day someone will break that out of you."

Yeah, Cloud was willing to bet it, but for now no one cared about him, no one took the time to help him grow into a good person. He had his friends, his job and school came at ease for him. He said nothing, just wanting to put his earbuds back in and continue listening to music, they still had a long way to go before getting there.

It was like a massive shadow had appeared over the car as they drove up to the building, Cloud slowly leaned forward in awe, taking his earbuds out. This was it, the 'power plant' he had one shot to prove he wasn't good for this job, one shot would be all it took, he knew he was on his parents last nerve. The guard stopped them at the gates and both parents pulled out ID cards, the man, dressed in cargo pants and a black turtle neck, carrying  gun far too heavy duty for his position looked in the back seat at Cloud. Stone grey eyes, the man looked like he had seen death, he looked like a criminal.

"That's my son," His father explained, "It's bring your child to work day."

"And you brought him here?" The guard asked then shook his head and backed up. "All clear!" The gates opened and the black car drove through. After entering a tunnel that took them a few miles under ground, Cloud felt his ears pop and he sat back, waiting for them to find a spot and get out. The whole parking lot echoed, he didn't understand why it was so far under when there was a perfectly good one up above. Did Cloud ever mention he hated tight spaces? The blonde exited the car with his parents and readjusted his backpack. His parents were dressed in casual business attire and lab coats, while Cloud, who felt like he had just rolled out of bed with messy spiky hair, wore a navy blue hood, a grey t-shirt and black jeans. He felt out of place, his arms tightened around himself. "Mom? I don't like it here, do you work here too?" He admitted to not knowing what his parents did in the plant, they never spoke of it, he never questioned. But if he could choose to be above ground, he would.

"Yes hon, I work three floor above in sector nine, while your father works in the lab." The lab, they didn't give it a sector name, just the lab... which was underground.

"Can I... come with you?" He tried to make his soft voice sound a bit helpless just so she would let him, but her teal blue eyes saddened and she shook her head.

"No, sweetheart, you're going with your father, he has much more exciting stuff to do than paper work." Paper work sounded fine! Why couldn't he do paper work? Cloud grumbled and looked away, hating that he couldn't even decide which parent to follow, now he was stuck with Mr. Coldblooded all day.

The split up at the elevators, his mom took the left one going up and his father and himself took the one on the right going down. Deeper and deeper they went, Cloud stared up at the numbers counting down, how far was this place? He didn't like the feeling his father was giving off, not one word had been spoken between them since the car ride. Now the man barely paid attention to the smaller boy, he just poured over files from his briefcase. The doors finally opened and a massive facility came into view, Cloud took a step back, the whole area was open save for a few offices and labs with glass windows, all looking in on the main project in the center. Wires and tubes came down from the ceiling, connecting to power grids and a metal tank. "There are a couple rules you must follow here, Cloud. Do not touch anything, do not ask stupid questions, follow me or anyone else so you don't stray far, I want you to take in as much as you can..." He walked out and Cloud hesitated to follow. "And one more thing," He said, looking over his shoulder with an unreadable expression. "Do not look inside the tank." He walked away and Cloud stepped out of the elevator, walking slowly into the room. Do not look into the tank? Cloud stared down at it from his position on the balcony. Do not stare into it…

The day had been uneventful but stressful at the same time, Cloud followed his father, got scolded at for touching things, leaning against tables, even sitting in chairs. He was ready to throw in the towel when his father was called in for a meeting. Suddenly the older man turned on Cloud, towering over the shorter boy.

"Remember what I said, don't touch anything. I can't bring you in with me so just stay there, Cloud, just sit down and wait." The man didn't say goodbye, he didn't smile or pat him on the head, it felt like Cloud was a dog and his father was telling him to stay put.

So when the man left, fierce blue eyes followed him movements before the door shut. Cloud sat back on his chair, the area was silent, no one was paying attention or they had gone in for the meeting. Don't look into the tank... the thought popped into his head and a rebellious smile graced his baby features.

Cloud stood, yawning and stretching, drawing no attention to himself as he left his chair, desks passed him as he walked by and soon he found himself in the centre of the room. The tank was massive, big enough to hold something large, as large as a human... or more. He peeked around, no one was looking at him, no one cared. Okay... Cloud was going to peek and then he'd have that over his father for the rest of his life. Why was peeking such an issue? Peeking wouldn't change anything, right? Maybe there was something gross inside, maybe some experiment that looked like a giant slug! Feeling a little more excited, Cloud slowly approached the tank, he stepped up the two steps, glass covered the front of it and even while standing not a foot away, the water made it impossible to see through it. Cloud squinted, leaning forward on the glass, his fingers brushed the surface finding the glass ice cold. Then slowly, his hands pressed against it, the heat from his skin forming a small fog around them. He leaned forward, he was seeing something floating in there but what... what was it?

The object was coming closer, breaking through the fog. Cloud's eyes opened wide, it was a human face, this was impossible! He felt like he was glued to the spot, unable to tare himself away even though that's all he wanted to do. Suddenly, eyes snapped open from within the tank and Cloud felt time stand still. He looked like a monster, no longer as human as he once believed. Impossibly rich green eyes with cat like pupils stared into his baby blue orbs. Cloud opened his mouth, he wanted to scream in fright but nothing was coming out, nothing came up his throat, he felt like he was being choked alive. Then it stopped, he took in a deep breath and life returned to his body. But he couldn't tare his eyes away, what was coming over him? His hand slowly came up to the position by the creatures face.

What strange hair, he first thought. Blonde, like the sun he had so rarely seen and eyes that were more blue than Sephiroth had ever seen. A male, definitely male, despite his fragile looking features. He wasn't fully grown yet. How fascinating. If only I could be where you are, he thought, an uncharacteristic longing taking over him. How was it that this boy, younger and weaker than he was able to roam freely? He reached up a hand to place against the boy's when a shout cut through the moment.

"CLOUD!"

The blonde tore his eyes away and suddenly a shock-wave struck him backwards. It felt like sound had omitted from the center of the room, a sound blast so strong that it cut through the metal of the walls. Alarms went off and people began to panic, grabbing documents from filing cabinets but the place was starting to catch on fire. Sprinklers went off but they were hardly powerful enough to stop the machines from exploding from their encasements. Cloud struggled to breath, he felt like his rips had broken and he lay there on the polished floor while his father stood a few meters by, just staring at what his son had done. Cloud turned, reaching out helplessly towards his father, he wanted to speak, to shout but he couldn't breath. Father... the man backed away and tears sprung into his eyes, his father turned and dashed towards the stairs, leaving his son behind. "Noo!" Cloud cried as the lab around him exploded and people fell to the ground, being poisoned by the gas and smoke from the fire. Was he going to die?

An explosion went off right by him, knocking him back towards the tank, his body rolled and he landed painfully on the steps. He couldn't hear anything, the ringing in his ears wouldn't stop, the smoke was so thick he could only see legs of people still trying to find an exit. Suddenly a wave of glass and liquid poured over him, cutting off the flames from spreading towards the fallen boy. A chunk of glass hit the side of his head and Cloud suddenly saw stars. His heartbeat rang in his ears, his vision was going black, the last thing he saw before falling unconscious was fire, smoke and a single black wing.

How long had passed? Cloud was regaining conciousness but he struggled to catch his breath, waking himself up, Cloud rolled over and began to cough up water from his lungs. Dammit... he was soaked, and cold, this didn't make sense, he should be dead. No... the sky was coming into vision, he was alive, he was out of the building but how... Cloud slowly turned and what he saw made his heart stop. The entire Shinra Headquarters was nothing more than rubble and ash, flames still rose from it but such a massive structure had become levelled. No one was around, bodies lay at the ground, no one was moving, but him... Cloud pushed himself into a crawling position and neared the rubble with tears streaming down his blackened cheeks. No... everyone... no... they were.... no.... he was alone... his parents... gone. "NOOOO!!!" Cloud screamed as he felt his heart clench painfully in his chest. He hated this feeling, of shame, like he had caused all of this, it didn't matter how much his parents fought with him, they were still his parents! Now they were... He looked up, desperation in his eyes, maybe they weren't. Cloud struggled to his feet, walking a few steps before collapsing in front of the first body he came across. It was someone he didn't know, and they looked like they had been... cut. What was happening, he felt himself breaking down. "Please... stop this." He told his heart, wanting to stop the pain, the guilt. Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye and he slowly turned towards the building. A form, tall and broad, with long silver hair wearing nothing but a long labcoat stood among the fire and ash.

Cloud struggled his way over, shouting at the man to get out before the building fell apart any more. "LEAVE! RUN!" He screamed but the man wasn't moving. His attention went up, in the sky helicopters circled with spot lights and fire trucks were speeding towards the site. Cloud panicked, and found the strength to get up. He couldn't be caught, he was the reason for all this, they would send him away, he would lose everything. The blonde ran forward, tripping over dabre as he went, he ran towards the man, his heart pounding as the spotlights closed in on them. "Come on!" He grabbed the long slender hand and without looking, he began to tug him towards the back. "PLEASE!" He'd explain later, but they were now in this together. The spotlights found the location they were once standing in but Cloud was doing his best to pull the man along to the path at the back. As soon as the building pieces were no longer in their way, Cloud let go of his hand and began to run, motioning the man to follow him. "You don't want to get caught by them, come on!" The government was never good.

[peopleofmassachusettsquotes]

Benjamin Dole, An Address to the People of Massachusetts on the Subject of the License Law, 1840

Page 7: The history of the Jewish nation, and the history of all nations, in all ages of the world, so far as I have any knowledge upon this subject, from the days of Solomon, down to 1840, goes to prove the truth of his declaration, “When the righteous are in authority the people rejoice; but when the wicked beareth rule the people mourn.” And David says “The wicked walk on every side when the vilest men are exalted.” Psalms 12:8. And if this is true, then it is of infinite importance to the people of the United States, and to the people of Massachusetts, that they choose righteous men to enact and execute the laws, and noticed men, who have no fear of God, nor regard for the “common good” of the people.

Page 30: Col. Gibbens appears to be the Korah among the members of the rebellious Boston Junto. And in the case of Korah and his rebellious companions, Col. Gibbens and his rebellious companions may see themselves face to face, as in a glass, and that no very darkly neither. And when Korah and his company can be fairly justified for their rebellion against Moses and Aaron, and against God, then, and not till then, can Col. Gibbens and his rebellious companions be fairly justified for their rebellion against the government of their own choice, and against the government of God, by their hostility to the license law of ’38. For the legislature of that year had the same right to enact that law, that Moses had to do all that he did in his government over Israel. And the false charge that Korah and his companions brought against Moses and Aaron, saying, “Ye take too much upon you,” was equally as true as it ever was, that the legislature of this State by enacting the license law of ’38, took to much upon itself. And if the “common good” required the enactment of this law, and its obedience and enforcement, then it was a sacrilegious act for the legislature of 1840 to repeal said law. And Gov. Morton, who recommended its repeal, and every member of the legislature that advocated or voted for its repeal, was guilty of sacrilege. And all in this State that ever favored the real of this law, partook of the same spirit, and acted a similar part to those of the congregation of Israel, that “turned back in their heart” from Paran to the land of Egypt. And the people of Massachusetts have actually chosen a captain to lead them back to a worse than Egyptian bondage. And their captain is Governor Morton.

Page 32: Absalom was such a modest and unassuming democrat, rather demagogue, that he could not say, Oh that I were made king or the Supreme Executive Magistrate in the land, but “Oh that I were made Judge in the land.” And no doubt Absalom had the vanity to think that he should make a much better king for the people than David, his father, had been, or would in future be. Even so Gov. Morton judges that he shall make a better “Supreme Executive Magistrate” than what Ex-governor Everett had been for the people of Massachusetts for four years past, or would be in coming time. I will leave it to the people of this State, and of the world to judge which have manifested the most modesty, Absalom, in what is before us, or Gov. Morton, in his address to the Legislature of Massachusetts dated “January 1, 1840.”

Page 44: B.F. Halle, for aught I know, has bewitched the people of Massachusetts equally as much as Simon did the people of Samaria. “But there was a certain man, called Simon, which beforetime in the same city used sorcery, and bewitched the people of Samaria, giving out that himself was some great one; to whom they all gave heed, from the least to the greatest, saying, This man is the great power of God. And to him they had regard, because that of long time he had bewitched them with sorceries. But when they believed Philip, preaching the things concerning the kingdom of God, and the name of Jesus Christ, they were baptized, both men and women. Then Simon himself believed also: and when he was baptized, he continued with Philip, and wondered, beholding the miracles and signs which were done.” Act 8:9-13.

Page 50: A very few days after I published the first edition of my address to the people of Massachusetts on the subject of the license law of 1838 and its repeal, I called upon the Hon. Mayor of the city of Boston, Jonathan Chapman, and sold him one of my pamphlets, had some conversation with him, was treated very kindly by him, and found him very much of a gentleman. I observed to him that I denied that any human government ever had the least natural or moral right to license any man or set of my to keep a dram shop or barroom; and that I considered the dram-selling business in the Tremont House or Concert hall, or any such place called respectable, (falsely so called,) a greater public nuisance, and a greater curse to the city of Boston, than the dram-selling business in Broad street. Because at such places as the Tremont House and Concert Hall, and the places that are called respectable, there young men of respectability first form their intemperate habits, and after they had formed their intemperate habits, and had lost their respectability, their moral principles and their moral character, they would go into any hole to get intoxicating liquors, when they would not have gone into such low places at the sunset. The Hon. Mayor admitted that I was correct, replied, saying, “The Mayor and Aldermen are as much opposed to this business as you are but we must take things as we find them, and not as we should like to have them.” I then referred the mayor to the noble example of Mr. Quincy in breaking up the brothels on Boston hill, and in breaking up the dram-selling business upon the common, and to Mr. Eliot’s breaking up the fire department, that he might go and do likewise. Those three acts were noble acts, and will be forever honorable to the two ex-Mayors. 

Page 64: But the “liberal Whigs” and the liberal Van Buren members of the legislature of ’40, pledged themselves to the friends and advocates of the law of ’38, and to the legislature and to the world, that if the legislature would repeal the law, that they would give unto us, the people of Massachusetts, a better law. But this was all a hypocritical humbug. This was like unto Gen. Jackson’s humbug in promising to give the people of the United States a better currency. Like Gen. Jackson, like “liberal Whigs” and liberal Van Buren men. For these “liberal” souls not only did not and could not give the people a better law, but they repealed the license law of ’38, and gave the people no law at all upon this subject, but flung us back for law from ’40 to ’32. A retrograde march indeed. What a profound, wise headed, and honest hearted set of statesmen! Their great wisdom and honesty as statesmen will wonderfully astonish the natives if they ever shall be so wonderfully favored as ever to hear of this wonderful and astonishing wise act. This is a retrograde, Jeroboam like movement.