#.abc wistful

[callanee]

I'm not gonna lie, I still kinda feel shocked that we actually get to see Buck as a queer man on screen. I never thought we were actually gonna get that, just wistful thinking. We already had Hen and Karen (amazing) and Josh, and this isn't a - capital Q- Queer show, they're not gonna do that. I don't really know how to articulate this all the way yet, but it's a really good feeling.

ABC is treating us well, and I'm so excited to see what the writers and crew have planned for us.

[dorotheian]

ABC not-so-mystery song

So... like.... I LOVED American Born Chinese on Disney+. I wasn't expecting to. I had no idea what to expect. The art style of the graphic novel didn't speak to me so I didn't have much exposure to the original version, and I probably won't going forward either, tbh. But I wanna hear the deets!

Key to any show or movie that is significant or memorable to me is often the music. In fact, I loved the sound Disney brought to it so much so that I bought the entire soundtrack, but my favorite theme in the entire soundscape — that longing, wistful, acutely lonely track that came up when Jin was loving but struggling to understand his parents because their frames of reference as an immigrant family were so different that they felt separated from one another — wasn't even on it! Ehhh????

Guess what it is?

It's "Ladyfingers," by Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass! But I think it's been put through a lofi mixer. This is what came up when I shazam'ed it, and it's pretty close if not exact to the TV series version: Ladyfingers Lofi Remix via Max Riser

Google does not acknowledge this (OK, it's not sentient, but it's been a few months and still I can't find anything!). Maybe nobody is talking about it?

Is the track they used purchasable?

Musicblr, what's the story behind this tune?!! Why was it used and not credited? (as far as I could tell.) Besides the quality of the sound itself, does it have meaning in the midst of the story of American Born Chinese?

[that-left-turn]

Sweet Summer Child

A continuation of Sweet Summer Child in honor of Mother's Day. This one is for all motherless daughters, whatever form that might take ❤️‍🩹 I wish today is kind to you.

There's a girl... woman marching across the parking lot. Long stride. Knee-high buckled boots. Her hair is up in a sleek ponytail that swishes as she walks. For a moment, Carol envies the straight length of it, the color not so far off from her own. Only lighter by degrees. Then she recognizes that it's an unchristian thought and checks it.

As she comes into closer view, Carol sees that she has a sheath with a knife strapped to her thigh. She looks lethal, with what appears to be a fancy compound hunting bow strapped to her back. She's tall and lean, and nothing like the girls from the area. Even the ones who have daddies to take them hunting.

As she comes inside the diner, she stops when she catches sight of Carol at the counter and smiles. "Hi," she says, with a little wave of the hand and in a few strides, she's sliding onto one of the stools at the front counter after stowing her bow against it. "I hope you don't mind," she says, "I don't have a car to leave it in."

Carol shakes her head, feeling the bun of wayward curls wobble on top of her head and she briefly wonders how the other woman even got there if she doesn’t have a car. "Coffee while you look at the menu?" Carol slides the laminated booklet across the counter.

"Yes, please," her customer smiles again and Carol is certain this is the prettiest girl she's ever seen. Hazel eyes and striking eyebrows, with high cheekbones and freckles. Oh so many freckles. More prominent than Carol's own, but they look good and she has such a happy, infectious smile that Carol can't help but to smile right back.

"All right," she turns to grab a cup and the coffee pot, happy it's a fresh brew and hasn't been sitting on the hot plate for hours.

"The survivalist special, Three Sisters ABC Soup, sounds good." Carol's new and mysterious guest looks a bit wistful, like she's lost down memory lane and can't decide if she just wants to turn around. "My dad used to tell the story of the three sisters, do you know it?"

Carol shakes her head. The three sisters are corn, squash and beans which Carol’s grandma learned from her grandma to always plant together because they grow and protect one another in a symbiotic relationship. The dish is Carol’s first contribution to the menu, an experiment aimed at the participants of the survivalist courses out on Route 12. She’s foraged wild onion and there's rabbit from the snares her grandma taught her how to set, so the ‘survivalist special’ is a little different from the usual comfort dishes on the menu, like biscuits and gravy or fried catfish. Carol's been nervous if diners will like it and now, she finds out that she doesn’t even know the story to go with it.

"In Cherokee lore, they were three women who helped each other stay fed, hydrated and strong on the Trail of Tears when the Cherokee people were forced off their lands. They had no other family than each other.” The other girl rearranges the salt and pepper shakers, and turns the handle of the syrup dispenser the other way around. “Selu was tall and lean, and she'd use her strength to help her sisters keep upright and moving when they got tired. Tuya was agile and alert, and she’d disappear into the thick brush around the trail to reappear with food to keep her sisters alive. And Iya was dependable and observant. She noticed things along the trail, like small springs of water, which would keep the sisters refreshed."

There's a sadness to her that Carol aches to relieve, she's not sure why. Maybe because it's the Christian thing to do and the other girl literally just told a story about cooperation and empathy. “It’s a beautiful story.” She busies herself with getting a bowl and scooping up a portion of the fragrant broth with the right ratio of vegetables and meat. Carol can't do much else to alleviate whatever sorrows the other girl carries, but she can feed her.

“My mom made soup with alphabet pasta when I didn’t feeling well as a kid,” the girl continues, plucking at the napkin wrapped silverware in front of her. “I’d leave my name in the bottom of the bowl when I’d finished.” She looks up and smiles at Carol, her eyes lingering.

“You’re close with your mom?” That must be nice. Carol’s memories of her mother are hazy for the most part. She remembers her mom teaching her how to lift wallets without getting caught and how to pick the right marks. She also remembers the police station in Atlanta where her grandmother picked her up late one night when Carol hadn’t been careful enough and her mom got arrested as a result.

The girl nods, taking the spoon in her left hand and stirs the soup before looking up. "My mom..." There's a pause, weighing in the air, as the girl looks at Carol. Really looks at her. "She's the whole package. A lot to live up to." She smiles and there's so much love in it that Carol could almost imagine what it's like having a bond like that with your mother.

After Mama got custody, Carol only saw her mom occasionally before postcards from faraway places replaced her physical presence. They’d randomly show up in the mail: Reno NV, Cheyenne WY, Santa Fe NM, El Paso TX... Eventually, they stopped coming too. So, she doesn’t have that connection to her own mother, but if Carol ever has children of her own, she wants to give them all the love her mom couldn’t give her.

“This is sooo good,” the other girl moans around a mouthful and Carol beams at the praise. Her eating and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand reminds Carol of Dixon and she smiles at the sight... and the thought of him.

She’s seen him twice since the picnic. Once, while he scarfed down his food so fast it looked like he was afraid that someone would take it from him and the other time had been awkward. Dixon had seemed lost in thought, staring out into the darkness, not really saying anything. Carol doesn’t know if he was uncomfortable with her after the picnic. If people had implied something to him. She also doesn’t know what she was thinking, dressing up like a slut and almost throwing herself at the man over a game of Cornhole. So embarrassing. It’s not wonder if Dixon is uncomfortable around her.

The sound of the door opening snatches Carol from her thoughts and there he is. He halfway raises his hand in greeting, but when the other girl turns around to face him, Dixon does a double take, like he’s not sure what he’s seeing.

“Hi Dad.”

He doesn’t reply. His whole body is still and Carol isn’t sure he’s even breathing. It looks like shock, like ‘hi dad’ is way too much to take in. Wait. What? This is Lydia? She isn’t at all what Carol pictured in her mind. She’d expected a nice Midwestern girl—wholesome and milkfed—not someone sophisticated and armed for bear.

Lydia gets up, walks over to him and after a moment of them staring at each other—Dixon looks like he’s seeing a ghost—she hugs him. Lydia’s tall, but skinny, so when he very tentatively raises his arms to embrace her, she vanishes within the span of his biceps. The moment expands... Then there’s a small sound coming from him, almost like a whimper and his arms tighten around the girl.

Carol tears up at the sight. It’s so heartfelt, almost like finding long lost family and she can see it so clearly now. Those cheekbones are her dad’s, just like the table manners.

When Dixon releases his daughter, his hand hover by her cheek, not quite touching her. “How are you here?” His voice is small and filled with wonder, but Lydia only covers his hand with hers, holds it against her cheek for a moment.

“I need to talk to you. Can we take a walk?” she says finally and Carol busies herself with wiping down the counter. Staring at imaginary stains. It’s a reunion—a family moment and she’s an intruder. Of course they want some privacy. “I need to get my bow and pay up.”

A couple of steps later, Lydia is once more in her field of vision, bending over to grab her fancy bow. Carol remembers Dixon saying his wife hunted with a bow, so she wonders if this is that bow. Lydia’s mom must have taught her how to use it and Carol swallows against the sudden lump in her throat. All she learned from her mom was to stick her hand into a pocket or purse without anyone noticing and help herself to its contents.

“How much do I owe you?”

Carol wills her tears to subside. It’s stupid to be jealous over a relationship Lydia doesn’t have anymore, just as stupid as being jealous of Dixon’s late wife. The irony of that being the same person isn’t lost on Carol, but she shouldn’t covet what other people have. Or had. Envy is a sin and Lydia deserves more consideration. She’s nice, like her dad and Carol’s mom might be lost, but she isn’t dead. Carol really has to work harder at being a better person.

“It’s on the house,” she says, forcing a smile, but she can feel her chin wobble. “For being the first to try it.”

Lydia looks at her, scans her face for something—Carol’s pretty sure that in the background Dixon studies her too, but she won’t raise her gaze to look at him. “Thank you,” the other girl says, “It was nice to meet you.” It’s a thing people say to be polite, but something about Lydia suggests that she actually means it.

“It’s nice meeting you too,” Carol attempts another smile. She wasn’t raised in a barn, she has some manners, but she makes the mistake of casting a glance over Lydia’s shoulder to acknowledge Dixon’s presence. He’s watching them like a hawk. Expression unreadable, but unblinking. Then Carol sees that he too has tears in his eyes. When Lydia clears her throat, she snaps back into reality.

“All right, Dad, let’s go.”

Dixon holds the door open for his daughter and Carol watches them for a moment through the window. They move in sync towards his bike. Dixon gestures to her bow and Lydia shrugs, showing him how it’s strapped to her back. It’s wholesome. A dad being concerned for his daughter’s safety on the back of the bike. Carol’s own dad is... not thoughtful like that.

She looks away. She should be working, not spying on the customers. With a sigh, Carol grabs the empty bowl to put it in the washer, but glancing down, the alphabet pasta letters left at the bottom don’t say LYDIA. It says NOTED. Like, she agrees with something? Carol frowns and then decides that she’s being stupid. Again. Lydia didn’t leave her a message. Why would she? They don’t know each other like that. Lydia’s last mouthful just got interrupted because her dad showed up. There’s even a piece of meat in there, so unless that’s part of the secret message, Carol’s imagining things. As usual.

Thank you for reading 🙏 I've had a lot of long tedious posts, so I hope this one was better/more enjoyable. Happy Mother's Day.

[tvrundownusa]

tvrundown USA 2024.09.26

Thursday, September 26th:

(exclusive): Dreaming of a Freaking Fairy Tale (Para+, romance, all 10 eps), Colin from Accounts (Para+, comedy, season 2 available, all 8 eps), Nobody Wants This (netflix, rom-com series premiere, all 10 eps), Everything Calls for Salvation (netflix, season 2 available, all 5 eps), Finding Ola (netflix, Egyptian dramedy, season 2 available, all 6 eps), Wisting (SundanceNow, Norwegian procedural, season 5 available, all 4 eps)

(movies): "Killer Heat" (APrime, noir mystery thriller, ~95mins), "Previously Saved Version" (APrime, Japanese sci-fi suspense romance, ~2hrs), "A True Gentleman" (netflix, Turkish romantic drama, 110mins), "Bangkok Breaking: Heaven and Hell" (netflix, Thai action drama, ~2hrs+30mins), "An Invisible Victim: The Eliza Samudio Case" (netflix, documentary, ~100mins), The Jane Mysteries: "Too Much to Lose" (HALL+), Love on the Danube: "Kissing Stars" (HALL+, trilogy finale)

(streaming weekly): The Tower (BritBox, procedural season 3 opener), LotR: The Rings of Power (APrime, penultimate), "The Tailor of Sin City" (AMC+|SundanceNow, penultimate), Frasier (Para+), Reasonable Doubt (hulu), Haus of Vicious (BET+), The Chicken Sisters (Hall+), Celebrations with Lacey Chabert (Hall+), "Coming From America" (MAX), "Fight Night: The Million Dollar Heist" (Peacock)

(also new): "Live From the Red Carpet" (E!, earlier, 2hrs), 2024 People's Choice Country Awards (NBC|Peacock, 2hrs), "Devil On Campus: The Larry Ray Story" (LMN original movie, 2hrs)

(hour 1): 9-1-1 (ABC, season 8 opener, "Bee-nado" part 1 of 3), Hell's Kitchen (FOX, competition season 23 opener), Big Brother (CBS)

(hour 2): Doctor Odyssey (ABC, cruise ship drama series premiere), Crime Scene Kitchen (FOX, competition season 3 opener, new night), Totally Funny Animals (theCW) / . / Totally Funny Kids (theCW)

(hour 3): Grey's Anatomy (ABC, season 21 opener, new time), The Old Man (FX), Impractical Jokers (TBS), "The Tailor of Sin City" (Sundance, penultimate)

(hour 4 - latenight): Ricky and Morty: The Anime ([adultswim], dubbed)

[basset-babe]

five times: the first.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

warnings: none but gossip

word count: 3.5k+

a/n: in the ever tasteful art of writing fan fiction, here's me breaking my writer's block and making my debut on bridgerton fanfiction, i give you the first of five times with ben. i absolutely adore the abc men but ben just has a special place in my heart (tbh anthony and colin do too, i just felt like daydreaming abt ben today) i do hope y'all enjoy! ciao!

five times series: the first. the one point five. the second. the third. the three point five. the fourth . at last.

dividers from @heavenlayt thank you!

first time.

"My lady? It is time to wake." Elsie, my lady's maid, knocked on my door, as she entered. "If your ladyship pleases, the hour had struck 6 of the morning." As my eyes adjusted to the soft light hues streaming through the curtains. I sat myself up and replied, "Elsie, good morning. I am now awake, awake enough hopefully."

Elsie ushered in with a pitcher of water and cloths. "Is it really today already?" I huffed as I stood walking to my dressing room. I cleaned myself and slipped on to a new chemise. "My lady, Her Grace has instructed that we make haste. Yes, your presentation to the Queen and the court is today. In a few hours to be exact."

I faced my looking glass as a few other maids came in to assist with my stays and petticoats. This is the day that all my grandmother's lessons and patience comes to fruition. All the hours practice dancing, and of course, the languages I've studied and now do speak fluently, if I do say so myself.

"Tell me honestly, Elsie," I looked back at her as she ties the ribbons of my corset. "Would I ever succeed in... all this?" I flailed my hands gesturing. I fear I might not even find a match for this already seemingly long season. She smiled and said, "You've prepared for this for the longest time. You have become such a fine young lady, miss. Any bachelor is to be blessed in abundance to bask in your presence, in my estimation. My hopes and prayers are always in your welfare, my lady."

As I take my last look in the looking glass, my gown fashioned from ivory silk, its smooth surface shimmering. My hand traced the pearl-beaded neckline and I fixed the puff of my sleeve. With my gloves at hand, I head out my room's door where I am greeted by my grandmother, her cane tapping the hardwood floors. "A tad bit early than I expected, my dear." Her tone joking as I followed suit. I smiled as we went down the manor's foyer. The stairs were adorned with our small family's portraits. "Well, I did try to attire myself with the utmost haste, Grandmama, fully aware of your esteemed patience." I remarked in jest but she laughed amusedly.

Halting in my steps, I found myself drawn to a familiar sight—the wedding portrait of my beloved parents. A soft smile graced my lips as I gazed upon their image, memories of happier times flooding my mind.

Sensing my absence, my grandmother turned back, her keen eyes alighting upon me. With a gentle hum, she adjusted her monocle and approached, offering a comforting pat on my back. "Grandmama," I began, my voice tinged with a wistful longing, "I do hope I make them proud." Her response was a tender reassurance, spoken with unwavering certainty: "I am sure they already are, dearest."

As I stood poised on the threshold, awaiting my turn for presentation, a sense of vulnerability washed over me, akin to that of a damsel in distress. My grandmother, ever the epitome of grace and poise, meticulously adjusted the feathers of my attire, ensuring every detail was impeccably in place. "Breathe," she counseled, her voice a gentle reassurance in the midst of my nerves. "You have done me proud, dearest," Grandmama affirmed, her words a comforting embrace, imbued with pride and unwavering support.

Then the Lord Chamberlain announced, "Miss Y/N Y/L/N presented by her grandmother, the Right Honorable, the Dowager Viscountess Y/L/N."

As the grand doors parted, a hush fell over the room, and I sensed the weight of every gaze upon me, particularly that on my grandmother too, her presence announced by the dignified tap of her cane as she followed behind. Stepping forward with measured grace, I approached the Queen's podium and executed a low curtsy, drawing in a deep breath as I maintained a respectful bow. Despite the murmurs echoing through the court, a moment of stillness enveloped the room as I felt the Queen rise from her seat. With a gentle touch, she lifted my chin, and I straightened, meeting her gaze with a warm smile.

"The paragon that you are, my dear," she uttered with a tender affection, bestowing a kiss upon my forehead in a gesture of approval. A grin spread across my face, the warmth of her words suffusing my being, even as my cheeks protested from the strain of the continuous smile. With a graceful pivot, my grandmother and I retreated with measured steps, executing another respectful curtsy before withdrawing from the Queen's presence.

The once subdued murmurs of the court now crescendoed in my ears, a cacophony of whispers and speculation swirling around us.

"Grandmama... Me? A paragon?" I murmured to her, quite exhilarated by the Queen's words. Yet, my grandmother remained stoically composed, her gaze fixed steadfastly ahead amidst the throng of aristocracy.

It was a rare sight to behold her amidst society's grandeur, for she typically kept to herself. However, she had made an exception, deeming it fitting for me to enter society this season. And indeed, her decision had borne fruit. Every effort she had invested in my preparation had culminated in this moment of recognition and acclaim.

I cast a fleeting glance towards the court and beheld the most gentle of green eyes. He acknowledged me with a subtle nod, prompting me to avert my gaze. I delicately toying with my fingertips as a flush of warmth suffused my cheeks under the weight of his gaze. I thought, "He must be a Bridgerton." As he wore their signature navy blue color and his hair a bit more disarray in his possible attempt to make it look more orderly.

In a moment of amusement, I softly chuckled as I returned my gaze to his warm countenance, which bore a friendly smile. Grandmother moved her cane in front of me as if to rectify my demeanor. Upon realizing my error, my gaze widened in contrition as I cast a sheepish glance her way.

Inwardly, I fortify myself for the impending social engagements with the esteemed members of the court, anticipating the sunset reception that is to ensue after this presentation. "May fortune favor the bold," I silently invoke, summoning courage for the encounters ahead.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the Buckingham Palace gardens, guests gathered amidst a scene of opulent splendor. Marble pillars and graceful arches adorned with cascading vines formed the backdrop, while ornate chandeliers and intricately carved ceiling pieces adorned the alabaster walls of the open-air reception area. Underfoot, the smooth marble flooring provided a regal foundation for the soirée, imbuing the atmosphere with an air of timeless grandeur and sophistication.

As refreshments circled the soirée on silver trays, deftly carried by attentive servants, the ton assembled to mingle amidst the lush surroundings of the Buckingham Palace gardens. Bustling mamas engaged in animated chatter, their voices rising above the murmurs of conversation, as astute gentlemen sought out advantageous alliances for their poised debutantes. Amidst the swirl of social intrigue and polite banter, the air crackled with anticipation, each guest poised to seize upon the opportunities of the evening's gathering.

Accompanied by my grandmother, I descended the garden stairs into the sunken garden reception. The ton, resplendent in their finery, turned their heads in unison, their curious gazes alighting upon us like the flicker of candlelight on polished silver. Whispers rippled through the crowd as we traversed the room, each pair of eyes lingering, momentarily entranced by the spectacle of our arrival. Even those engaged in conversation momentarily paused to acknowledge our arrival. "The season's paragon.." They said.

"Your Grace, might we trouble you for some refreshments?" I nodded to the servant approaching with a tray of glasses.

As we delicately sipped our glasses of lemonade, Lady Ledger made her approach, flanked by her cousin Lady Violet Bridgerton, and her daughter, Miss Eloise, who had been presented alongside me earlier in the day. Joining them was her friend, Miss Penelope Featherington, completing their entourage.

"Ah, Viscountess Y/L/N, Lady Y/L/N, are you enjoying the reception?" Lady Ledger inquired with a knowing smile. Lady Bridgerton nodded graciously in acknowledgment, offering a courteous response to both my grandmother and me. "Indeed," Grandmother chimed in, "never underestimate the Queen's knack for transforming the mundane into a marvel of grandeur."

"Shall we take a turn around the room, Lady Y/L/N?" Miss Eloise extended the invitation, linking elbows with Miss Penelope. "Shall we?" I said settling between them, leaving our matriarchs amongst their chatter.

We've taken a few steps far from the soirée back near the refreshment table when Eloise spoke, "Well, Lady Y/L/N, do enlighten us on your thoughts about the presentation and the reception. Speak freely, for I've grown weary of the tiresome cacophony of giggles and idle daydreams from the other ladies this evening. Thankfully, Miss Penelope here has been a better companion throughout."

"I find myself drawn to exploring avenues beyond the confines of the marital sphere at present, even though my mother absolutely opposes to the idea of me having a gap year, then." Penelope sighs and continues, "Despite the absence of prospects thus far, I find myself surprisingly content in my quiet indulgences."

"Honestly, delaying a year in the marriage mart may seem unconventional, but one mustn't rush fate. Patience often leads to the most unexpected and delightful unions." I answered, "Even I opted for a delay of a year, despite not making my debut until this season as per Her Grace's wishes. I must say, I couldn't be more grateful for the opportunity to indulge myself in my beloved books during that time."

"Do tell, Miss Y/L/N, what literary tomes do you find yourself indulging in?" Eloise asks.

"I dabble in perusing natural history compendiums, particularly finding botanical works to be a favorite pursuit of mine," I paused momentarily, then continued, "Oh, I fear I may inadvertently bore you both with my penchant for the sciences. However, I do find solace in the allure of romances and literature crafted with a delicate balance of wit, social commentary, and the thrill of romantic escapades, albeit confined to the written word."

Further discourse veered towards the discussion of almost radical hobbies and interests amongst the three of us. I found myself increasingly at ease amidst the reception, in the company of these two. "But I do wish these receptions offered more than mere gossip, dance, and music," Penelope remarked.

"Indeed, it can become rather tedious to dance until one's feet ache," I replied, "although, I must confess, I have yet to be invited to partake. I merely entertain the notion of engaging a tutor and mastering the intricacies of these social dances through diligent practice."

"I concur. It might indeed provide a welcome diversion, perhaps enticing one of you to accept an offer to dance, solely for the sake of regaling me with the experience. There is only so much I can endure of our daily routines and chatter," Penelope added with a hint of playful exasperation. "Nothing absolutely changes, honestly."

However, ere long, the moment was upon us as Lady Bridgerton approached alongside a gentleman with tousled brown locks, unmistakably of noble bearing. Penelope and I moved aside as he was introduced. "I would like to introduce you to Lord Morrison."

"Miss Eloise. A pleasure." He bowed.

Lady Bridgerton nodded towards Eloise in agreement as he spoke, "Might I have the honor?"

Penelope and I smiled amidst the gentleman as we glanced over to Eloise who's had a confused smile at the offered hand. "Of what?" She asked, her hands clasped.

We stifled a laugh as her mother said, "A dance, Eloise," Lady Bridgerton, then, led Eloise's hand towards the outstretched one of Lord Morrison's. "Yes, I think you shall, Lord Morrison." She looked at Eloise, "Do recall, a try?"

She cast upon us a gaze brimming with utter annoyance, seemingly beseeching deliverance from a dance destined for doom. "You wished to be entertained," she intimated.

As I discerned my grandmother's cane drawing nearer to Penelope and me, she gracefully inquired, "Are you enjoying your company, dear?" Her tone carried both warmth and concern. "I couldn't help but notice the absence of suitors vying for your attention. Would you care to be introduced?" she offered, her hand holding a glass of wine, likely courtesy of Lady Danbury.

"The night is indeed still young, Your Grace," I respond with a smile. "As you often advise, there's no need to hasten amidst fun."

"Atta girl," my grandmother replies with a twinkle in her eye. "You've made my words your own. Quite the wit, just like your dear old grandmother."

"Not that old, Your Grace." I laughed.

As my grandmother started her lively chatter with Penelope, my gaze wandered, drawn to a familiar mess of brown hair amidst laughter, situated beside Lady Bridgerton. Automatically, I presumed him to be her son, but entirely unsure which one.

Our eyes met, again, even if we are across the room. He was impeccably dressed in a tailored coat and carried an air of warmth that set him apart from the crowd. Intrigued by his steady gaze, I felt a flutter of anticipation in my chest as I continued to chat with Penelope and my grandmother.

"Will you excuse me, Viscountess and Miss Y/N. My mother, she summons me. " Penelope exited as her mother waved her hastily over for an introduction to a baron, it seems.

"May I take a tour of the room again, Grandmama?" I asked.

"Come take the tour with me," Grandmama said. As she walked and her cane struck the marbled pavement, gentlemen adjusted their cravats and smiled my way. "They are all staring again, Your Grace."

"Pay no mind, my dear. Allow them to come to you."

We were soon approached by a nobleman. "Lady Y/L/N. Miss Y/L/N. I am Lord Ibarra," he announced, his tone posh and refined.

"Ah yes, Lord Ibarra," Grandmama replied. "I believe you have been introduced to my granddaughter, Y/N."

"Yes, we met at your estate's Thanksgiving picnic," he confirmed.

"And I believe you had just won a few awards in Madrid," I added with a touch of nostalgia.

"Unfortunately, his advocacies stand in his way of scoundrelship, dearest. Oh well, humbug," she remarked, waving a dismissive hand.

"Well, in that case, I do hope his lordship has found himself new musings," I said with a polite smile.

"Only then would he be able to indulge in new hobbies if he'd been keeping up to date with his dues and no backlogs, wouldn't you, Lord Ibarra?" Grandmama added with a pointed look. Lord Ibarra nodded curtly and took steps back before excusing himself form the encounter.

"He is unfit. Quite poor with money and all the decisions that accompany it. A man of any honor ensures his debts are entirely settled. Let us proceed." Grandmama commented,

We continued our tour of the room. A gentleman dancing nodded with a smile. "He is rather charming."

"He is merely attempting to salvage what little remains of his fortune. Be assured that Mr. Fairfax is well informed of your considerable dowry." Grandmama, yet again, snidely remarked.

"I trust you are acquainted with him as well," I observed, gesturing to a gentleman with a colorful cravat. "Heaven forbid a notorious rake and alleged father of a bastard should captivate you, my dear."

Another gentleman who walked pass and smiled. "Only a seventh son. We shall find you a more suitable match." Grandmama stated.

Then Lady Bridgerton approached with her son in tow. "Ah, what a delightful sight. Violet, dear."

"Viscountess, this is my son, Benedict," Violet introduced with pride.

"Lady Y/L/N. Miss Y/L/N. An honour," Benedict said with a respectful bow. "I have been hoping for the chance to meet you."

My heart skipped a beat at his words, my cheeks flushing, yet again, with a becoming blush. "Mr. Bridgerton," I replied, my voice soft but filled with warmth, "the pleasure is mine."

"Your mother and I have shared many a tea. We are close, are we not?" Grandmama said with a warm smile.

"Indeed, but circumstances have changed now that your granddaughter has entered society, now a lady," Violet remarked, her eyes twinkling.

"About time, a year later than as her father would have wished," Grandmama responded with a sigh.

"Oh, I am deeply sorry for the recent loss of your son and daughter-in-law. I remember them both fondly from our social seasons," Violet said with genuine sympathy.

"Life must move forward after mourning, as it always does. Enough of the sorrow. We must ensure you two become well acquainted," Grandmama said, steering the conversation back to the present.

I smiled as Benedict handed me a glass of lemonade from the servant's tray. "I have not seen you much around the ton recently, Miss Y/N," he commented with a gentle curiosity.

"Ah yes, I have been occupied with managing the estate alongside Her Grace since my parents' passing. Additionally, I have been deeply engrossed in my hobbies and interests," I explained.

"What might those be?" Benedict inquired, his interest piqued.

Grandmama interjected, "Her botanicals. She is utterly devoted to her plants, especially during blooming season. It is quite a passion of hers."

"Miss Y/L/N," Benedict began, his voice carrying a warmth that sparked my curiosity, "I must admit, I never knew that botanicals held such fascination for you."

I felt a flush rise to my cheeks at his observation, but his genuine interest put me at ease. "Indeed, Mr. Bridgerton," I replied as my voice tinged with excitement, "Botanicals have always been my greatest passion. There's a certain beauty in the way plants grow and flourish, don't you agree?"

I found myself opening up to him, sharing my knowledge of plants and their intricate ecosystems. With each word I spoke, I sensed his genuine interest, and I couldn't help but feel a flutter of connection between us.

"Mr. Bridgerton," I said, my heart swelling with pride, "Your appreciation for botanicals is truly heartening. I would be delighted to share more of my botanical knowledge with you in the future, if you're interested."

His eager nod and warm smile filled me with joy. "I would like that very much, Miss Y/L/N," he replied, his voice sincere. "It would be an honor to explore the wonders of the natural world with you."

"Oh, Benedict, you must tell them of your recent painting," Violet encouraged.

"Mother," He laughs. "Yes, one has reached display at the art gallery on the avenue. It's not much, really," Benedict said with a humble smile.

Grandmama replied, "That is an outstanding accomplishment, Benedict. It seems both of you have a tendency to downplay your achievements! I, for one, am a great supporter of both the sciences and the arts."

"There is always room for refinement in my pursuits. One never truly reaches perfection, wouldn't you agree, Miss Y/N?" I merely nodded in response to his question, my demure demeanor intact as I delicately sipped from my glass.

Benedict began to stand more upright as Lady Danbury approached our group. "Lady Danbury, good evening," he greeted with a respectful nod.

"At ease, Mr. Bridgerton. Miss Y/L/N, you look rather lovely this evening. Is there a reason I've yet to see you on the dance floor?" Lady Danbury inquired, her sharp eyes twinkling with curiosity.

Grandmama replied, "All in good time, Agatha."

Lady Danbury leaned in and replied fleeting, "You poor thing, being kept off the dance floor."

"If only it were not time for us to retire," Grandmother said turning turning to me with intent. "I am anything but weary, Your Grace," I assured Grandmama, my enthusiasm evident.

"Dearest, there is nary a gentleman here who wouldn't take your hand. You must consider this. The most perfect thing for you to do now is not to dance but to leave them all wanting more. If anyone knows how this works, it is I, your grandmother," Grandmama advised, her eyes gleaming with wisdom.

"Perhaps you are right. Let us go," My expression softened with a small smile. My heart sank slightly at the thought of our evening coming to an end so soon, but I knew better than to disobey my grandmother's wishes.

With a nod of gratitude, my grandmother turned to Benedict. "Mr. Bridgerton, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I hope we shall have the opportunity to see you again soon."

I watched as Mr. Bridgerton returned my grandmother's gracious smile with one of his own. "The pleasure was mine, Viscountess," he said, but his voice tinged with regret. "I look forward to the chance to call upon Miss Y/L/N--"

But before he could say another word, my grandmother had already ushered me away, leaving Mr. Bridgerton standing amidst the bustling garden. As we made our way through the crowd, I couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment at the missed opportunity to spend more time with him. The thought of not having the chance to dance with him weighed heavily on my mind.

As we stepped out into the cool night air, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was not the end of our story. Despite the missed chance, I held onto the hope that our paths would cross again, and that perhaps, in the not too distant future, I would once again find myself in Mr. Bridgerton's company.

[yessadirichards]

What to stream this week: Usher, classic commercials and lots of puppies

LOS ANGELES

Usher’s first new solo album in eight years and the “Abbott Elementary” debuting its third season on ABC are some of the new television, movies, music and games headed to a device near you.

Also among the streaming offerings worth your time as selected by The Associated Press’ entertainment journalists: Justin Hartley of “This is Us” debuts his new CBS series “Tracker,” Sony’s new multiplayer military shooter Helldivers 2 and Celine Song’s “Past Lives,” an achingly tender film about making peace with the choices that shape our lives.

— Celine Song’s “Past Lives” is an achingly tender film about making peace with the choices that shape our lives. Song’s directorial debut, which is nominated for best picture and best screenplay at the Academy Awards, is about a woman named Nora (Greta Lee) who, while married and living in New York, reconnects with a childhood friend (Teo Yoo) from Seoul. Though modest in scale, “Past Lives” gently reckons with existential quandaries that stretch across time and continents. In her review, AP’s Jocelyn Noveck called it “a gorgeous, achingly wistful feature debut.” Streaming on Paramount+ with Showtime.

— The mind of Charlie Kaufman has produced some of the most memorable films (“Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,” “Synecdoch, New York”) of the last few decades. But even when Kaufman last scripted an animated film, (“Anomalisa”), you wouldn’t call the results child-friendly. But in “Orion and the Dark,” Kaufman adapts Emma Yarlett’s illustrated children’s book about a fifth-grader (voiced by Jacob Tremblay) who’s afraid of the dark, among other things. He’s forced to confront his fears when visited the actual Dark (voiced by Paul Walter Hauser). In his review, AP’s Mark Kennedy said director Sean Charmatz’s film “is about fear and overcoming … but has too much junk clogging up the vision.” Streaming on Netflix.

— Laura Chinn’s directorial debut “Suncoast,” which recently premiered at the Sundance Film Festival, draws from Chinn's own experience growing up in Florida and caring for her ill brother. With a cast including Laura Linney and Woody Harrelson, newcomer Nico Parker stars as the high-schooler Doris in this coming-of-age drama. “Suncoast” streams Feb. 9 on Hulu.

— AP Film Writer Jake Coyle

— It may very well be Usher’s world, and we’re just living in it. From an incredibly successful Las Vegas residency to scoring the 2024 Super Bowl halftime show, the “Confessions” singer is experiencing a well-deserved influx of attention — from a new and curious audience as well as those filled with nostalgia for his smooth ’00s R&B. There’s more great news: on Friday, Feb. 9, just two days before he appears at Allegiant Stadium in Las Vegas for Sin City’s inaugural Super Bowl, Usher will release “Coming Home,” his first new solo album in eight years. He hasn’t missed a beat — “Good Good,” the single with Summer Walker and 21 Savage — is silky summertime R&B with some Atlanta bounce — a winning combination. Elsewhere on the album, Usher joins forces with Burna Boy, Latto, The-Dream, H.E.R., BTS member Jungkook and Pheelz. “Stacked” is the word.

— Swedish pop singer Zara Larsson will release her fourth studio album, “Venus,” on Feb. 9 — an album full of shimmery synth-pop and Euro dance-pop that burns bright, hot and fast like a Saturday night. “On My Love” with EDM giant David Guetta proves it, but Larsson’s commitment to feel-good club bangers exists throughout: like on the strings of “End of Time,” which she said was inspired by Rihanna and ABBA in equal parts. Now that’s a combination.

— If you frequent indie music corners of the internet, you might’ve seen the shirts released by Helado Negro, the musical moniker of Roberto Carlos Lange, before you heard his music: “Young and Latin and Proud,” they read, a celebration of the South Florida native born to Ecuadorian immigrants’ identity, but also the identity of many of his listeners. It’s a great framework to consider Helado Negro’s latest album, “Phasor,” a day-dreamy collection of experimental pop (like on “Best For You and Me”), psych rock (“LFO (Lupe Finds Oliveros)”) and alternative rhythms and flutes (“I Just Want To Wake Up With You.”) It is a celebration of an incredible diversity of Latin music, including one that gets lost when listeners focus too closely on geography: atmospheric sounds.

— AP Music Writer Maria Sherman

— “Abbott Elementary” aired its season two finale last April and there are lingering questions that need answers. Can Janine and Gregory (series creator Quinta Brunson and Tyler James Williams) remain platonic after almost stepping outside the friend-zone on the field trip to the science museum? Did a summer at Harvard prompt Ava (Janelle James) to finally take her job as principal seriously? And will Mrs. Howard (Sheryl Lee Ralph) finally learn that Brian Tyree Henry’s name is not Brian Austin Green? Answers may be revealed Wednesday when school is back in session and “Abbott Elementary” debuts season three on ABC. Episodes also stream on Hulu.

— Revisit popular Super Bowl ads from years past on “Super Bowl Greatest Commercials XXIII: The Ultimate Countdown,” on Wednesday on CBS. The show presents top commercials from over the years from brands including Budweiser, E-Trade and Coke. Hosts Boomer Esiason, the former NFL quarterback, and actor Danielle Ruah narrow down the competition to two finalists, and viewers can pick a winner by scanning a QR code on screen to vote live. The special will also stream on Paramount+.

— There’s a four-legged alternative to Super Bowl Sunday: Puppy Bowl XX. This year marks the Bowl’s 20th year and 131 adoptable pups have been drafted from shelters and rescues across the U.S. to compete. Teams Ruff and Fluff square off for the coveted “Lombarky” trophy while also encouraging people to adopt and not shop for pets. Puppy Bowl XX will simulcast on Animal Planet, Discovery Channel, Discovery+, TBS, TRUTV, and MAX before the big human game on Sunday, Feb. 11.

— Great American Family also wants in on the call-to-adoption programming. Year two of the Great American Rescue Bowl will feature both dogs and cats -- all who have already been adopted — to highlight the kinds of pets you can find at a shelter or rescue instead of a store or breeder. The paw-some game between teams The Adorables and The Cuddlers begin at 12 p.m. also on Sunday, Feb. 11.

— Justin Hartley of “This is Us” debuts his new CBS series “Tracker” in the prime spot after Super Bowl LVIII. Based on the book “The Never Game” by Jeffery Deaver, Hartley plays Colter Shaw, a guy with a skill for tracking down the missing and all he asks for in return is reward money. In an interview, Hartley says he was itching to roam around outside after years of being in kitchens and living rooms for “This Is Us.”

— Alicia Rancilio

— Sony’s new multiplayer military shooter Helldivers 2 invites you to “wage war for peace” and “die for democracy.” If those slogans sound like something out of the 1997 satire “Starship Troopers,” wait until you see the enemy, a species of giant insects called terminids. You can join forces with up to three friends as elite soldiers defending “Super Earth” from the aliens — which, of course, is best accomplished by attacking the monsters on their home planets with a spectacular assortment of high-tech weaponry, from your basic laser rifle to massive bombs. If you find yourself cornered by an alien “bile spewer,” well, that’s your problem. The invasion launches Thursday on PlayStation 5 and PC.

— Lou Kesten

[bookstamel]

ABC-TJE met Pam Hage

Hallo lieve lezers van Bookstamel, Yes tijd voor de eerste echte blog sinds mijn afwezigheid. We beginnen gelijk met een van jullie favorieten onderdelen. Het ABC-TJE met. Dit keer is het AC-TJE met Pam Hage. Ik leerde Pam online kennen en werd helemaal verliefd op het cosplay costume op de foto hieronder. Toen wist ik nog niet dat Pam ook aan een boek schreef. Maar binnenkort verschijnt er dan…

[i-am-no-dam]

An .abc arrangement for The Lord of the Rings Online of “ /Cocoon of White Dreams ~ Remembering the Past” from the visual/sound novel Umineko no Naku Koro ni, performed by Shikata Akiko and composed by Emori Keigo. You can download my Shikata-Cocoon-SoloHarp-v1.abc from Google Drive!

Specifically arranged for Basic Harp, but you can try it out on other plucked strings to see if you like it.

Not linking the lyrics because IMO they shouldn’t be read before finishing reading Umineko, which you should do because it’s a masterpiece.

[renmorris]

tonight I revisited the lost (abc tv show) pilot and I’m feeling kind of wistful. I remember being like 11 or something and totally genre blind and utterly enchanted by spookyness and exploration

[otonymous]

Luke Pearce's NSFW ABCs (Tears of Themis Headcanon)

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspects, etc.)

Very intimate, but not in an over-the-top romantic way

It’s the little thoughtful things that count with Luke: the things he says and does that tells you that he literally remembers every single thing about you

Luke loves interlacing his fingers with yours while he’s slowly thrusting into you.  He’ll lay gentle kisses on the back of your hand, the tips of each finger — his lips lingering on the ring finger of your left hand as an especially wistful expression settles onto his handsome face

He’ll tell you — deep voice soft and gentle in your ear — that he wishes he could turn back the hands of time and reclaim the eight years he spent apart from you

You know I had to go hard for my boy Luke 🤣🥰. Find out how hard in Luke Pearce's NSFW ABCs, now up on my Pa*treon page (please see link on my pinned post).

Hope you all enjoy it and happy reading! 💕

[passionate-reply]

This week on Great Albums: most 80s enthusiasts are well aware of the Buggles’ “Video Killed the Radio Star,” famous for being the first music video ever played on MTV. But when’s the last time you actually listened to the whole song? Chances are, it’s better than you remember. And the rest of this album is a masterpiece, too. FInd out more by watching the video, or reading the transcript, below the break:

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! Today, I’ll be looking at the 1979 debut album of the Buggles, The Age of Plastic. If you know anything about the pop landscape of the 1980s, you’ll know that MTV played a key role, codifying the “music video” format and aestheticizing the music industry like never before, not to mention introducing a plethora of British electronic acts to American audiences for the first (and sometimes only) time. The Buggles were one of the many synth-pop bands that scored a crossover hit chiefly from the exposure that heavy rotation on MTV won for them, but at the same time, their legacy is intertwined with MTV’s much more deeply. The Buggles’ clip for their single “Video Killed the Radio Star” has the distinction of being the very first ever played on MTV, during its 1981 launch.

Music: “Video Killed the Radio Star”

I’ve done my fair share of videos where I talk about artists who are brushed into the “one hit wonder” bin in America, and I usually find myself saying that their big hit isn’t that outstanding compared to the rest of their work, or the album it appears on. But in the case of “Video Killed the Radio Star,” I have to say, I think this track is a veritable masterpiece. It’s a shame that it’s become so inextricably linked with MTV, and its place in history overshadows its ability to stand on its own as a great work of art. It’s a song that feels very familiar, because it’s used so often as a sort of jingle for this era of music history, but every time I go back and listen to it in full, it blows me away. The song was, of course, not written with the intent of being about MTV--it’s about how the advent of television doomed radio dramas back in the 1950s, and was chosen by MTV in a bit of amusing irony.

But “Video Killed the Radio Star” is so much more than that post facto smug joke. It’s delicately wistful and nostalgic, with the crisp, soprano backing vocals of Linda Jardim providing a nod to 50s pop, but also very firm and powerful, once you add in that despondent piano. It’s the part that’s usually cut in the “jingle-ificiation” of the song for B-roll, but also the piece that really makes the composition tick--it’s the contrast between the brash and childlike optimism represented by Jardim, and the rest of the melody coming in to remind us of how those hopes are dashed as we come to adulthood, and we grow to see the world we lived in as children collapse upon itself. This all comes together to make the song utterly compelling to listen to in full, despite how pithy and trivial its oft-repeated hook has become.

While “Video Killed the Radio Star” was the single that managed the most mainstream success, the rest of the album features tracks that resemble it, in their sense of cinematic narrative and fascination with nostalgic retro-futurism. It’s not quite a concept album, but it still has an impressive amount of thematic consistency, and its tracks’ resonance only seems to increase when considered alongside one another.

Music: “Johnny on the Monorail”

Stark and plaintive, “Johnny on the Monorail” closes out the album on a moody, introspective note. Those bright backing vocals return, this time adding in some scatting, in a more overt reference to 50s doo-wop. Its high-tech mass transit theme calls to mind Kraftwerk’s seminal “Trans-Europe Express” from a few years earlier--but where they had used heavy, hyper-physical percussion to portray the workings of the machine itself, the Buggles’ hymn to the train focuses on the internality of its human occupants. The train is a socially-charged space here, but one filled with awkwardness and tepid, partial connections to other people. It’s a perfect microcosm of a sterilized future world that separates man from physical actions, like walking, as well as from his fellow man. This emphasis on the human, emotional toll of high technology is a constant throughout the album, even on its lone “love song.”

Music: “I Love You, Miss Robot”

In “I Love You, Miss Robot,” the age-old myth of romance between human and machine serves the role it always does: satirizing the transactional or objectifying nature of “modern” relationships, and the perversity of our attempts to fill our needs for companionship with things instead of people. The composition is, fittingly, quite hollow and languid, centered around a simple bass guitar riff while electronically-distorted vocals flit around like ghosts. Despite Trevor Horn’s reputation for orchestral, baroque pop, there’s actually a surprising amount of driving, rock guitar on this album too. It’s most prominent on the track “Clean, Clean!”, which is certainly a major sonic contrast with “I Love You, Miss Robot”! “Clean, Clean!” actually directly follows it in the tracklisting, albeit broken up by the flip to side two, if you’re listening on vinyl.

Music: “Clean, Clean!”

Despite its rough-edged aesthetics and driving rhythm, “Clean, Clean!” maintains the sense of high-concept narrative that pervades The Age of Plastic, showing us a glimpse into a brutal war. But, set against the haunting sense of distance and sterility embodied by tracks like “Johnny on the Monorail,” “Clean, Clean!” ultimately feels quite different thematically as well, with its soldiers inhaling diesel fumes and struggling to “keep the fighting clean.” Both sonically and lyrically, its feel is a bit less atompunk, and more dieselpunk--and, for once, the linguistic allusion to “punk music” is also relevant here!

The cover of The Age of Plastic features a headshot of Buggles frontman Trevor Horn, rendered in lurid primary colours. Combined with the tight horizontal lines of the background, and the digital-looking typeface used to render the name of the band, it seems to be an image culled from some futuristic display screen, fitting the album’s aforementioned science fiction themes. Looking back on it now, of course, there’s a certain retro feel to these now-outdated ideas about computer displays. It’s a reminder that for as much as this album was, in its own time, looking backward to Midcentury ideas about the future, and embracing a certain retro-futurism, it’s now aged into being “retro” itself, in a world where much of contemporary culture looks back at the 1980s with hope and wonder.

The title, “The Age of Plastic,” calls to mind not only a world of futuristic super-materials, but also the negative connotations of plastic: fakeness, disposability, and malleability to the point of having no fixed identity. In that sense, Horn’s technicolour visage can be read as the image of that plastic-age hominid, formed anew by evolving technology and an increasingly cold and alienating culture.

If you’re familiar with Western pop, the odds that you’ve already heard a lot of other work by Trevor Horn is extremely high. For as much as “Video Killed the Radio Star” has gone down in history as a gimmicky number, Horn’s fingerprints run all throughout popular music, from a stint as the frontman of progressive rock outfit Yes, to producing hit songs for artists like ABC, Frankie Goes to Hollywood, the Pet Shop Boys, and Seal. My personal favourite project of his, though, is probably his sample-heavy, avant-garde work as a member of the Art of Noise. A lot of people don’t know that there was actually also a second Buggles album, 1981’s Adventures in Modern Recording. I’ve met few people who would argue that it’s quite as good as The Age of Plastic, but if you’re interested in more of this sound, you might as well give it a shot! Lead single “I Am a Camera” even managed to chart minorly in several markets.

Music: “I Am a Camera”

My favourite track on The Age of Plastic is its opener, the pseudo-title track, “Living in the Plastic Age.” Moreso than any of the other tracks, it really draws its strength from its narrative, with clever lyricism that really rewards a close listen. It captures a day in the life of a businessman in a soulless, corporatized future, going through the motions despite a nagging notion that the corporate grind is no path to true fulfillment. The song’s frantic pacing portrays that ceaseless, hectic sense of stress, and its soaring refrain is one of the album’s highest points of drama. I can’t think of a better summation of the album’s overarching themes. That’s all for today, thanks for listening!

Music: “Living in the Plastic Age”

[peanuts-fan]

'A Charlie Brown Christmas' at 50: The Making of a Classic Soundtrack

Producer Lee Mendelson, drummer Jerry Granelli reflect on enduring seasonal favorite

By Liz Pelly December 9, 2015

“The fact that it's become such a permanent part of the holiday season is surreal," says original 'A Charlie Brown Christmas' producer Lee Mendelson. United Feature Syndicate Inc./ABC

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The legend goes like this: In 1963, producer Lee Mendelson made a documentary about Peanuts cartoonist Charles M. Schulz, for which he needed music. One night, Mendelson was driving over the Golden Gate Bridge, tuned into a San Francisco jazz station. "Cast Your Fate to the Wind" came on the air, a drifting cut where melodies appear and then disappear, and bouncing elation is matched by tiny moments of despair. The track was pianist Vince Guaraldi's mini-hit that year, and Mendelson was struck by how it sounded simultaneously adult and childlike. The next day, he called up the San Francisco Chronicle's jazz critic, Ralph J. Gleason. "Do you have any idea in the world who Vince Guaraldi is?" Mendelson asked. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I'm having lunch with him tomorrow," Gleason said. Mendelson met Guaraldi a few days later, and they agreed to work together.

The documentary ultimately didn't sell. But two years later, Coca-Cola, who had seen the doc, called up Mendelson, and asked if he'd ever thought of making a Christmas special. Mendelson said, "Absolutely!" and hung up the phone, then called Mr. Schulz. As Mendelson remembers it: "I said, 'I think I just sold A Charlie Brown Christmas.' And Schulz said, 'What in the world is that?' And I said, 'It's something you're going to write tomorrow.' There was a long pause, and he said, 'Alright. Come on up.'"

The rest, of course, is history. A Charlie Brown Christmas aired 50 years ago today, on December 9th, 1965. Over the years, the special has become a perennial classic: the 25-minute story of wistful Charlie Brown and his struggle to find the true meaning of Christmas in the face of holiday-season commercialism. "I almost wish there weren't a holiday season," he sighs, at the story's beginning. "I know nobody likes me. Why do we have to have a holiday season to emphasize it?" The genius of A Charlie Brown Christmas was the way it channeled the looming sadness and anxiety that come with the holidays — and the way its timeless, best-selling soundtrack by the Vince Guaraldi Trio tapped into that narrative seamlessly, with muted, melancholic jazz.

Indeed, to create such an unabashedly anti-consumerist story with the backing of both Coca-Cola and CBS was a subtly radical accomplishment in 1965, as it would be now.  The executives at CBS were displeased with the finished product: its slow-moving animation, its religious undertone, its jazz soundtrack. They had no choice but to air it, though — they had already advertised it in TV Guide.

"They wanted something corporate, something rousing," says drummer Jerry Granelli, the lone surviving member of the Guaraldi combo. "They thought the animation was too slow. They really didn’t like that a little kid was going to come out and say what Christmas was all about, which wasn’t about shopping. And then the jazz music, which was improvised — you know, the melodies only take up maybe 30 seconds." Yet A Charlie Brown Christmas was an immediate, massive success.

The first of many specials that Schulz and Guaraldi would collaborate on with Mendelson and animator Bill Melendez, A Charlie Brown Christmas came together in just six months. "We brought Vince Guaraldi in to reprise the music he had done for the documentary, plus some Beethoven and some traditional music," Mendelson says. 

Employing his background in easygoing, West Coast jazz, and working with a local children's choir that sounded perfectly off-key at times, Guaraldi crafted future classics through original compositions and re-arrangements of holiday standards. Like the characters themselves, the songs merge bits of Schroeder's bookish sophistication, Charlie Brown's heavy heart, and Snoopy's unpredictable mischief. The songs are both smooth and snappy, with Granelli's brush and stick sounds pushing them steadily along.

"Guaraldi never wasted a note," says author Derrick Bang of the pianist. Michael Ochs Archives/Getty

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"We went in and did it in three hours," recalls Granelli, who was only 24 at the time. "That's just the way jazz records were recorded. I think we even went to work in a club that night." Some of the songs were already part of the group's repertoire. "We were improvising all the time, so each night, the song kind of evolved."

The trio's version of the 1824 German carol "O Tannenbaum" exemplifies this process. Guaraldi, Granelli and bassist Fred Marshall took the song's harmonic foundation and ran, moving the composition into more explosive, bluesy territory. In the special, the song plays as Charlie Brown and Linus look around for a Christmas tree. "This doesn't seem to fit the modern spirit," says Linus, when Charlie Brown picks out the smallest, most dilapidated one he can find. The funny sound of flat piano keys chirp as the tree's twigs fall to the ground.

"Linus and Lucy" was one of the holdovers from the Schulz-documentary days; in A Charlie Brown Christmas, it is the centerpiece of the soundtrack, capturing a moment when inner anxieties subside and the season feels fleetingly fine. "My playing is really very simple on that record, but it's exactly what captures the story," says Granelli. "It moves the music forward doing very little. Just the way the brush starts on 'Linus and Lucy,' so it doesn't conflict with the bass line, and then it goes to the Latin part, and then it goes back to the left hand, the conga drum part."

"Christmas Time Is Here" was originally an all-instrumental piece. "Guaraldi had written a very beautiful melody for the opening skating scene, but about two weeks before it was about to run on the air, I thought, 'Maybe we could get a lyricist to put some words to this,'" remembers Mendelson. "I called a few lyricist friends of mine, and everyone was busy. So I sat down at my kitchen table and I wrote out a few words, and we rushed it to the choir that Vince Guaraldi had been working with in San Francisco. And he recorded it, and we got it into the show about a week before it went on the air."

"They really didn’t like that a little kid was going to come out and say what Christmas was all about, which wasn’t about shopping." —Jerry Granelli

"It's deceptively simple, but at the same time, impressively complex, kind of the way Charles Schulz approached his newspaper strip," says Derrick Bang, author of Vince Guaraldi at the Piano and multiple books on Peanuts, of Guaraldi's soundtrack. "He never wasted a line; Guaraldi never wasted a note. Every note was important."

"We’re living in times where so much is done to manipulate us," reflects Granelli. "And things last for, what, a news cycle? A few minutes? This [album] is something that’s lasted 50 years. And not only lasted, but grown ... I think there’s just a humanness."

"The whole thing from beginning to end has been surreal," Mendelson says. "The fact that it's become such a permanent part of the holiday season is surreal. And every time I hear it on the radio, or I hear it in a store, or someone says, 'wah, wah, wah,' I realize we're very lucky to have been associated with Mr. Schulz and his characters. It all comes back to his characters, and his philosophy, and his humor."

© 2015 Rolling Stone

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http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/a-charlie-brown-christmas-at-50-the-making-of-a-classic-soundtrack-20151209?page=3

*Note: The picture at the top of the article is NOT from “A Charlie Brown Christmas”, it is from another cartoon, probably “It’s christmastime again, charlie brown”.

[crushpdf]

@uzurazura tagged me to post the last seven sentences in my WIP, so yes I’ll post my les mis fic :)

I have six chapters and almost 7000 words that i havent yet published, since all the chapters take place in the same night and i want to revise them all before i publish the first, so im gonna cheat. im in the middle of writing chapter 27, but i’m going to post the last seven sentences in chapter 26 :) also im gonna double-cheat and post the last ten :)

In a flash, Grantaire saw a supercut of another version of his life. One where he had texted back, and asked about the possible sex cut, and had gone to an ABC meeting, and had taken Enjolras on a date, and had kissed him in Washington Square Park where they had met, and had, and had, and had—

And never had The Boyfriend.

But the images came so quickly he barely had time to regret them as he smiled ruefully. "The Boyfriend was actually just The Friend at the time," he said.

And in Enjolras' spring-green eyes, he saw him watch the same imaginary highlight reel, their timing off by a few short weeks in their long lives. His smile was just as wistful, and it stopped Grantaire's heart just like the first one had. "Well then I'm glad it worked out for you two," he said.

And somewhere in the depths of those eyes Grantaire had gotten lost, and didn't see his boyfriend approach until his arm wrapped around his waist and his teeth bared in a shark's smile.

Montparnasse stuck out a hand. "Hi," he said. "I'm R's boyfriend."

reading this over im like “oh boy i need to stop writing at 1am!” and this is why they all need to be edited before i can post them 😂

tagging any writer friends who want to share their work!

[tvrundownusa]

tvrundown USA 2024.08.15

Thursday, August 15th:

(exclusive): Granite Harbour (BritBox, season 2 available, all 3 eps), Emily in Paris (netflix, season 4A available, first 5 eps), Kengan Ashura (netflix, anime "Part IV" available, all 16 eps), Wisting (SundanceNow, season 4 available, all 4 eps), "Jackpot!" (APrime, action-comedy movie w/ John Cena and Awkwafina, ~105mins)

(streaming weekly): "Are You Sure?!" (dsn+), Bel-Air (Peacock, season 3 opener, first 3 eps), Evil (Para+, penultimate), Shadrach (GAPureFlix, penultimate), Suicide Squad ISEKAI (hulu, season 1 finale), MILF of Norway (MAX), "Kite Man: Hell Yeah!" (MAX), Ruthless (BET+), Tyler Perry's "Bruh" (BET+, next 2 eps), Carl Weber's "The Family Business" (BET+), Kold x Windy (AllBlk), Love Is Blind: Mexico (netflix, next 2 eps, penultimate)

(also new): CMT Giants: "Alabama" (CMT special, 2hrs), "My Son's Deception" (LMN original movie, 2hrs)

(hour 1): COBRA (regional PBS), Press Your Luck (ABC), Big Brother (CBS)

(hour 2): Traces (regional PBS), Lucky 13 (ABC), Masters of Illusion (theCW) / . / World's Funniest Animals (theCW)

(hour 3): Impractical Jokers (TBS)

(hour 4 - latenight): Ricky and Morty: The Anime ([adultswim], Takashi Sano spin-off series premiere) [note: Thursdays will air the English-dub; Japanese version w/ English subtitles will air as part of Toonami latenight Saturdays.]

[chasing-givenchy]

rewatched freshmen daze now and he loved casey from the beginning while she felt IT for cappie (which is fair. attraction is what it is). he asked her to the greek ball “as friends” because she was devastated and he was in love, and she started dating him because he was nice to her and that was better than having feelings for an unreliable love of your life.

when evan chambers said “no, you love you. you love what i can do FOR YOU” that shit hit deep.

[diarrheaworldstarhiphop]

What are your thoughts on the Cyberpunk 2070 ad that has people in a tizzy, what with the large weiner on the lady and the sodie-pop

lmao, goofy

kinda confirms the way i have been panning it and portraying it as WOW COOL BLADES, as it is polish devs making it after all.

to effortpost a lil on it, however…

That’s not to say I hate it for it or think it ruins the game or even that i demand x,y, and z representation; but that it is an enormous tell for the depth of the game. In that, it’s a fun cybernetic sandbox first and ethical and futurist exploration of social strata dissolving with technocapital thru medium second… or third or honestly, last haha. It is the difference between something really compelling and GTA with body mods. It’s a solid 7 out the gates versus something that tries to exceed expectations. It’s just a setting and nothing else.

Back to the fat dick lady, there are alot of ciswomen who would love to have a dick. and i DO mean ciswomen, in the same way that alot of men fantasize/joke about having tits for a day or something. In a cyberpunk future, there would be enormous cybernetic toy cocks to strap on and test out.

That’s the only way i rationalize it as it’s not transgender representation in the slightest, certainly not binary transgender representation. If anyone is to look at that ad and go “lmao transwoman” then it’s being informed by the male gaze or the sexualized portrayal of transness via the fantasy sex icon. It’s fundamentally reductive if that’s the intent. It’s literally a monster cock slapped on a hot cis girl. It’s Futa or whatever when it seems more likely that something like cyberpunk2077′s setting would feature a separatist transgender terrorist cult or something.

The genre has it’s roots in punk, which by definition, is a radical departure from gender norms and societal conventions. Actually, it’s a resistance to that. Punk is notable for the way it made assault against gender stereotypes in it’s body of politics, music and fashion. Cyberpunk then would be a lens into exploring how cybernetics, corporations and technology impacts and then assaults, forces a breakdown or radical change in societal structures as we know it.

As far as i give a shit, i think a cyberpunk setting would be opening pandora’s box of gender and self-expression. “Well, it makes sense that in this future, a trans person can simply appear as cis as the opposite sex” alot of people say to the monster cock futa ad controversy, but theres alot of people who want to be decidedly NOT like either sex or something completely, literally alien. There are people who yearn for human exit in a way that isn’t cleanly “they would just look like an anthropomorphic robot lol” and on top of that, technocapital is actively creating dissonance with our bodies and self-perception. In a cyberpunk future, it would be accelerated to a degree that lmao cis people with sword arms and cis girls with monster cocks wouldnt satisfy, let alone produce total verisimilitude. I mean, it’s already happening in a way, and thats without the insane corporate dystopia of cyberpunk. So in a way, i feel Cyberpunk 2077 is limited by the perception of limits of it’s creators (and what it’s audience would find palatable and render the property as profitable). As i said, a trans terror cult would be pretty cool to see but i would doubt that. Furthermore, i feel the depiction would piss off alot of leftoid work journos, themselves limited by their own perceptions and sensibilities. And that’s a shame. That alone would prevent any dev from going that route. While I havent paid attention, im sure those same journos are currently screaming outrage at the polska devs over the futa advertisement, so how likely is it to actually see some dystopian radical trans depictions outside some sanitized neolib portrayal.

Anyway, I think the reason why cyberpunk 2077 stands out to me is that, it’s a fun display case of the genre but in a way that comes on the heels of vapourwave and other contemporaneous hauntological yearnings for lost futures and functions as a nostalgic return to the comforts of the 1980s, where things seem to be headed for blade runner world and Escape from New York. What social breakdown it does show is just the what-if anxieties of that era off the pace of development over the prior few decades. Something like how Akira’s NEOTOKYO seemed EXTREMELY likely and that’s why Akira is set in the far off year of 2019.

It reveals the impatience and cagey-ness of our generation, condemned to… coast. No utopia, no dystopia either. No apocalypse on the horizon, nothing to hold on to as the future. We live according to a sort of agony, forced to float through our Barzakh of unipolar neoliberalism surrounded by fictional media that predicts any number of insane dystopias or catastrophes just around the corner.Even cyberpunk becomes as goofy, toothless and wistful as Disney’s Tomorrowland. Cyberpunk 2077 is the millennial Tomorrowland.

Anyway, i think ill probably enjoy the game, it’s still a 7/10 maybe. maybe less. But idk why it’s so controversial to express criticism or expect more of something and not just lap up what ABC company offers us as pure pre-launch gold.