#Bow Roosevelt

[manorpunk]

1️⃣

In the White House press briefing room in the year 2069, the presidential lectern was alight for the first time in decades. On the dais, hidden behind thick blue curtains, a series of lenses came to life, powered by thrumming machines the size of cabinets. In the beauty of the lilies, Christ was born across the sea, The light from the lenses reflected along an array of precision mirrors, engineered down to the nanometer, reflecting and warping the light, directing every beam to a spot just behind the lectern. A shimmering orb of color began to grow and take shape. It was a hologram, the first of its kind in quality and fidelity, but needing time to form. With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me… The hologram grew, like a multicolored egg, until it took the shape of a body - a woman’s body, thin but not too thin, tan but also pale, tall but not too tall or too short, a work of perfection as delicately engineered as the machinery that created it. The Mary Jane shoes, the pleated skirt, the puffy blouse with Juliet sleeves. The cherry-red hair with a big white bow on top. The baby blue eyes with little white five-pointed stars for pupils. For better or for worse, the USA’s decades-long interregnum was drawing to a close. As He died to make men holy… With a thrum of light, the hologram was now displaying at one-hundred percent fidelity. The first president of the American League, a rough and discordant coalition of states that had emerged from the fall of the United States federal government, newly embodied with vague and untested powers in the transition out of provisional government, was an anime girl vtuber. Let us die to make men free, While God is marching on! She smiled. It was a wide, sharp smile, like the letter v, brimming with barely-concealed pride, the smile of someone who was always up to mischief, but never too much. She turned her head, letting the cameras see it from every angle, waving and winking as the booming chorus of Glory, Glory, Hallelujah faded into the background. “And we’re back, folks!” she said. Her voice was light and airy, like a rich pastry or a strong dose of anesthetics.  “In case you’ve been living under a rock for these past few years, I’m Sunny Roosevelt: winner of Miss Vtuber North America 206X, named ‘America’s Cloth Mother’ by the GLN Worldwide Weekly, and now, your president!” The ‘living under a rock’ comment wasn’t a rhetorical gesture; a non-negligible amount of people in the former USA had spent the past few years under some form of rock, whether that was an apocalypse bunker, abandoned basement, or literal rock. “Folks, I know it’s been a rough couple decades for America. There was mass infrastructure failure, natural disasters, zombie COVID, falling real estate prices, and I’m pretty sure most of Florida’s still underwater. But that - ends - here!” she thumped her fist on the podium. “Because I love America. I love America so much I am kissing America with tongue. To all my loyal voters, followers, and subscribers, my promise to you, now that I’m here…” her eyes narrowed and slanted sharply as she gripped the podium and leaned closer. “...big things are coming.”

[telekinetictrait]

What is beautiful is good and who is good will soon be beautiful. - Sappho of Lesbos

fuck it. higher class english woman from a jewish-italian family and her cornish childhood friend-turned-housemaid that slowly fell in love over the 1910s.

on a more personal note, i don't think i can describe the big old smile on my face when i saw the antique wheelchair from @lilis-palace and the accompanying poses. disability related cc is few and far between, and finding historical disability related cc is like finding a dolphin in the desert. disabled people have always been here, and will always be here.

we've existed throughout history! shanidar one was a neanderthal who had brain damage and possible paralysis, and is estimated to have lived to be between thirty-five and forty-five – pretty old for a neanderthal! disabled people show up often in medieval and biblical texts. the greek god hephaestus is famously described as "lame," "deformed," and/or "impaired". various disabled bodies are portrayed in ancient egyptian art. some people with developmental/learning disabilities were honored by western european courts in the renaissance and believed to be closer to god. closer to the time period portrayed in this post, rosa may billinghurst was known as the "cripple suffragette" and was involved in near constant rallying for women's rights. disabled people are overlooked in studies and perceptions of history for so many reasons; mistreatment, abuse, erasure, eugenics, different ways of categorizing and labelling disabilities, and simply being lost to time and translation. but we've always existed. for every iconic figure of disability history, there's hundreds more who simply existed and had their lives forgotten.

there's names you know like helen keller, frida kahlo, franklin d. roosevelt, and names you don't. if anything i've said at all has interested you, here are a few more notable disabled people from history and modernity to research if you'd like: brad lomex, wilma mankiller, niccolò paganini, ivar the boneless, and barbara jordan.

cc used under the cut! (if it's not linked, it's from the game)

see my resources page!

all/multiple - lilis-palace's antique wheelchair + poses / rheallsim's fancy hairline / mlys' sibel rolled updo / the-melancholy-maiden's edwardian bandeau / citrlet's ivy freckles / plumbobteasociety's fancy fascinator hat / waxesnostalgic's toque hats / blueraptorsden's vintage stockings / satterlly's elizabeth boots / waxesnostalgic's edwardian heel pumps / xldkx-cc's rogue brogues

everyday - linzlu's hattie dress (download link) / sokea-cc's sweater dress

going out - dzifa's holmes dress / dancemachinetrait's priscilla set

wartime - waxesnostalgic's female war worker uniform / waxesnostalgic's v.a.d. headwear / satterlly's v.a.d. nurse uniform

formal - madameriasims4's laurel wreath headpiece / satterlly's silk dress / simlaughlove's alyssum succulents / retro-pixels astor dress

athletic - vintagesimstress's 1897 cycling hat / waxesnostalgic's armistice blouse / waxesnostalgic's female knickerbockers / waxesnostalgic's open collar blouse

sleep - vintagesimstress's 1893 aesthetic dress / sunivaa's lola dress

party - simverses's hat with plume, bow, and roses conversion / historicalsimslife's tea in the garden dress / pinkpatchy's sunless walks hat / twentiethcenturysims' fern dress

swim - linzlu's bathing belle swimsuit / eirflower's bain de soliel bathing shoes / lollaleeloosstuff's historical swimwear

summer - happylifesims' 1910's day dress #1 / waxesnostalgic's open collar blouse (short sleeves) + 1919 skirt (i think) / twentiethcenturysims golden ring accessory

winter - simverse's edwardian tapestry coat conversion / waxesnostalgic's cloche hat / linzlu's florence outerwear (download link)

thank you to @lilis-palace @rheallsim @mlyssimblr @the-melancholy-maiden @citrlet @waxesnostalgic @blueraptorsden @satterlly @xldkx-cc @linzlu @antiquatedplumbobs @sokea-cc @dzifasims @dancemachinetrait @madameriasims4 @simlaughlove @losts4cc @vintagesimstress @sunivaa @simverses @pinkpatchy @twentiethcenturysims @eirflower and @happylifesimsreblogs !!!

[finchfvkingcortes]

my favourite moments from uksies (april 5th)

-race fiddling with the printing press and being told off by bill

-he then slinked over to spot like a kicked puppy and she patted him on the back

-hannah humming to herself as she walks to let jack into the office

-finch desperately trying to get davey to shake his (spit covered) hand and throwing up his hands in frustration when he won’t

-tommy boy offering finch his cross and finch kissing it

-crutchie muttering “for fuck sake” under his breath when les runs back to davey before their exit after the world will know after trying to get les to go with him

-katherine saying “the guy who paints places he’s never seen is calling us crazy” to davey instead of jack

-finch walking away with his papes balanced on his head during the finale

-finch holding onto crutchies hand for the longest time after he helps him up when morris pushes him

-on “you have laid claim to our world” roosevelt points at the newsies. henry points at himself, says “me?” and looks very pleased

-when jack introduces roosevelt mike quickly fixes his hair and turns to adjust jojos waistcoat

-jack tells davey “I told you” after shaking roosevelts hand (when he makes the carriage ride joke)

-the way romeo is enamoured with the bowery beauties

-at the end of king of new york when the lights are lowering finch is less then a foot from the ground and still spinning scarily fast

-he is the only one still going so fast which makes it hilarious to watch

-jack and davey leaning against pulizters desk and jack leaning his head against daveys on “no bodies like us”

-albert definitely doesn’t pay

-finch begging jack to not go for morris after he pushes Crutchie and getting v annoyed when he does

-the way finch is seconds away from a panic attack 90% of the time

-“🎶he 🎶 got 🎶 elected🎶”

-hannah telling bunsen to hurry up when they exit after pulizter asks to talk to jack alone

-matthew slipping as he comes off the ramp after letter from the refuge and you could hear him and whoever was helping him off (I think it was george) giggling

-romeo having to hold finch back from running to help crutchie when he calls to him for help

-albert holding up his hands like he’s been accused of a crime on “just give me a water”

-jack showing katherine his bag with “the world” printed on it on “I work for the world!”

-splasher lying stretched out on his stomach on the ramp and just generally being adorable

-crutchie blessing himself and praying under his breath during jacks speech to the scabs

-he then whispers thank you when the scabs join them

-jack not fighting when he’s led off by the delanceys

-mack having to hold spot back to stop her going at jack during the rally

-lindsay putting the olivier award on the stage after the bows instead of a pape

-the delanceys are so Sexy™️ I won’t apologise for it

-the way finch says “…gets me a little jittery”

-jack purposefully choosing to single finch out when the boys are hiding on “whose got brooklyn?” finch is not in his line of sight (he’s behind him) and he deliberately whirls around to ask him (rather then just happening to see him)

-buttons and mush putting their bags on their heads to hide on “whose for brooklyn”

-also them nodding very animatedly with the bags still on when finch is talking

-daveys “why don’t you come home with us- fordinnerImean” in one hurried breath

-watching jacks face when pulizter threatens crutchie, davey and les with the refuge is heartbreaking

-davey standing behind les with his arms around him and his chin on his head

-jack standing barely visible in the scaffolding reading the letter during letter from the refuge

-finch ruffling mikes hair after the world will know

-just albert and how unhinged™️ he is

[mara-and-its-the-same]

(center Tangerine icon by @cherriedt that was linked on pinterest, and the rest of them are just from pinterest :/, and the pictures of the necklace and the dress aren't meant to show the reader, just the kind of outfit I was picturing, it just happened to be Dua Lipa's met gala necklace and Lady Gaga)

Requested by my love and my life (but I forgot to put this under that and I'm in too deep) @loving-and-dreaming thank you for everything you've ever sent me, asked me, or tagged me in <33<333 Warnings: None graphic violence, bruising, bleeding, language (duh), smoking and sickeningly rich people el oh el WC: 2.7k and not proof read

When your mother invited you to one of her friends’ charity galas, this is hardly how you expected the night to go. You slipped into that black velvet gown that she offered you, with the perfect neckline to show off the necklace that was a gift from both your parents for your last birthday. The one with the fat diamond right in the center. It was certainly the gem to talk about. It even made quite a few headlines. 

And it was certainly the talk of tonight, with half the conversations you had almost certainly leading to their eyes being drawn to your chest within the first 30 seconds. And for a masquerade, it was quite hard to remain anonymous when the thing was practically a shimmering name tag. Which was a fact you came to regret sooner rather than later. 

About an hour after you arrived, after finding your table with your parents and greeting your friends, another masked man asked you to dance. He was tall, with quite the head of thick brown hair, and a hell of a mustache. But there was something about him that you couldn’t quite place, as you made polite conversation on the ballroom floor. His accent, maybe. 

“May I ask where you’re from?”

“Oh well, that’s hardly the point of a masquerade now, love.” You spun away on cue and he drew you back in. “It’s about the mystery.” And with that the waltz ended with his chest against your back and your breathing heavier than it has been with any other partner that night. You tried to clear your throat quietly, with the way he was breathing down your neck. He was so overwhelming, what with his deep blue suit in such subtle contrast to the sea of black you were swimming in, and the strength of his arms that he didn’t use against you, but with you as he led you through the dance. 

You twirled out of his arms and bowed along with the rest of the ladies on the floor. You nodded in gratitude for the dance then left to go find your friends with a shake of your head. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.”

“Looking a little winded there,” your closest, and most likely only true friend, Remington (or Remy to you), offered you her arm as you aimed for the restroom in hopes of a chance to catch your breath. Once inside, you reached into one of your deep pockets that were hiding beneath the voluminous fabrics of your skirt to pull out a small pack of cigarettes. You slipped one of the few remaining sticks between your lips and fumbled through your other pocket for the lighter you couldn’t reach. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“You have a better one?” Remy sighed and took her zippo out of her little handbag. “Thank you, dahlin’,” you put on an accent like the man you’d danced with.

“Ooh, so you’ve met the mysterious gentleman.”

“Dance with him too.”

“Oh my.”

“Oh yes.” You looked over your makeup in the mirror and checked your hair. 

“Why does it smell like cherries?”

“They’re flavored.”

“That’s literally worse than smoking on its own.”

“I know but…cherries.” You took a final drag then stamped it out on the side of the sink and brushed the ashes down the drain. “Alright, gotta go get yelled at by my mother.” 

You both gave each other salutes before you went back out into the hall and she went into a stall. There was a strange sound coming from around the other corner of the hallway towards the ballroom. It was most likely some sleazy billionaires’ sons thinking much higher of themselves than anyone should, so it was best to move on back to your table. 

The whole time you sat there, you’d often catch eyes with the mysterious man from earlier. You didn’t see him dance with anyone else, but when you looked at him and looked like you meant to really look at him, and leaned back in your chair, he took that as a sign to ask you for another dance.  

He wordlessly offered you his hand, which you took with more grace than he’s ever seen. He led you to the floor with a hand on the small of your back and you both assumed your positions for the most intimate dance of the night, it wasn’t too fast but it was very intricate and required you to trust your partner.

The music started and he was the best partner you’ve ever had. The way he lead you was perfect, every dip was like being held as a feather, every lift felt like floating, and every step was like walking on water. “You smell like cherries…and smoke.” He said as he brought you down from the lift.

“Hmm.”

“Didn’t think to share?”

“Didn’t think you’d be interested.” You slid your hand over his left shoulder as the dance required and flicked his gold hoop with your finger.

“How’d you learn to dance like this?” He spun you out again and 

“Swiss boarding school,” you answered as if it was obvious. 

“Figures.” You didn’t see the way he looked down at your necklace over your shoulder, you felt it more. “Dance with me again, love?” He turned his head so you felt his words too.

You hummed a yes and resumed your positions. 3 dances later, he tilted his head to one of the doorways that lead to a vast balcony. You nodded in agreement and took the arm he offered. 

Once you were out there, alone, the only sounds were the busy city below you and the flick of his lighter behind you. You braced your hands on the railing behind you and watched the way the light of the small flame refracted through his eyes like a kaleidoscope. Once he brought his hand down you saw the slim cigarette and then smelt the cherries that followed. “That’s not yours.”

He put that hand down next to you on the railing and stood right in front of you, almost caging you in. “It’s much nicer to share, love.”

“You expect me to share my things when you won’t even share your name?”

“I don’t recall you tellin me yours either.”

“Didn’t think I had to.”

“Really?” His accent seemed more present now when he was all you could hear, not the music or the bustling crowd. “She’s that sure of herself, eh?”

“I can’t help it if most people, especially in a crowd like this, know who I am. Are you telling me you don’t?”

He used his other hand to flick the ashes off over the railing, now really caging you in. You took it from him when he was bringing it up to his mouth, drawing a smooth breath while he gave you a disapproving twitch of his mustache. He didn’t answer your question beyond a shrug. 

“I can’t even get a first name out of you? Nothing?”

“How’s Tangerine?”

You smirked with a scoff of a laugh, he didn’t look very happy with that. “Like the fruit?”

“Yes, like the–”

“Your mother named you after a little orange?”

“She didn’t– No, it’s an alias.”

“Ooh, a code name then?”

“Yes.”

“What for? You hiding from something?”

“In a sense.”

“I think you’d have to be. A fake name and a mask, I think you mean business.”

“And what do you fancy that business is?” He traced a finger down your collarbone to the chain of your necklace until he reached the large stone resting on your chest. Usually, such a thing, focusing only on the jewelry, would be an absolute turnoff. But for some reason, it was different when he did it.

“I’d say something–” You were cut off by a strange figure moving at the other end of the balcony. “What was…” It was his turn to smirk at that as another man emerged from the shadows. He was a little bit taller than “Tangerine,” and his coily hair was bleached almost to white besides the roots, but he had the same earring. 

“Evenin’, I’m Lemon.”

You rolled your eyes at what your night has come to, you knew better than to go anywhere with strangers with masks and no name. “Oohh, Lemon and Tangerine, clever,” you bit sarcastically and pushed Tangerine off of you a little harder than he must have been expecting with the way he stumbled back.

Lemon looked at Tangerine like he expected such a reaction. “Listen, love,–”

“I’m not your ‘love’,” you mocked his accent and Tangerine tilted his head with his eyebrows raised and his lips in a thin straight line. With a wave of your hand, you let him go on.

“You’re gonna keep the mask on, we’ll walk outta here, real calm, and it’ll all be over soon.”

“I’d really rather not.” You went to take a step back inside but Tangerine caught your arm. Again, really not how you wanted your night to go. You rolled your head to the side and looked at him like he was boring you. You wrenched your arm from his grip and Lemon tried to catch you too, but you ducked under that and landed a swing to Tangerine’s cheek, knocking his mask to the ground. This was one of those rare occasions that he looked better under the mask, but there was no time to dwell on that when he lunged towards you. You dodged that as well, but it was difficult for them to keep you away from the doors and windows so no one inside would notice, and it was difficult for you to watch both of them at once and also move in such a dress. 

It was quite a tussle, “Where did you learn to fuckin fight like this?!” Tangerine groaned as you had one arm around his neck and the other under his arm coming over yours, only restricting him as much as you needed to get him to stop. 

“Swiss boarding school.”

Lemon huffed with his hands on his knees then stepped towards you. You pushed Tangerine at him and ran to the nearest door. Just as you were stepping into the ballroom, hair a mess and cheek smudged with makeup and blood from one of Tangerine’s rings, someone stepped in front of you and blocked your path. It a second to recognize them but with a blink it was all too clear. Remy pushed you back and Tangerine had you by both wrists behind you. 

“Let’s go then,” she said definitively, making you laugh. “What?” She barked.

“Like this? As if everyone isn’t looking at me anyway, I think they might if I look like this.”

“You don’t look any worse than usual.”

“Remington, that is a ridiculous thing to say, and no, I mean people might fucking notice if I look like I’m being kidnapped.”

She nodded to the man behind you and after a sharp strike to the back of your head, you were out.

***

You woke with a twitch of your nose and a throbbing pain to your left cheek and right temple. There was a tickling on your eyelid that made you want to sneeze, and you could feel the cold of the bathroom tile through your skirts. “Stop moving.”

“Can I fucking breathe for a second? Jesus Christ.” She backed off from you and held up the makeup brushes in annoyed surrender. 

“Put the mask back on, then we’ll go.”

“Go where?”

“It might be easier if you stay quiet, love.”

You went to push yourself up but your hands were restrained behind your back so you you suffered with turning your aching neck to look at Tangerine instead, noticing his tie was missing. “Might be easier if you let me go, and you kidnap literally anyone any less recognizable.”

He cracked his knuckles and looked like he was going to step towards you but Lemon held him back and started talking about what sounded like Thomas the Tank Engine. The choo choo’s Lemon was saying were not helping their case. 

Remington grabbed your chin and looked you over. “You look fine. Put your mask on.” She threw it at you then seemed angry when you didn’t act immediately. Tangerine came behind you and lifted you up and Lemon stood in front and did your mask. In all their years, he had to have been the least professional of all their clientele. 

“Is this how you typically spend your Saturdays?”

“Kidnapping ridiculously rich women for other ridiculously rich women?” Lemon asked and you nodded. “It’s usually our day off.”

“You were a special case.” Tangerine said as he untied your wrists and redid his tie. 

“How sweet.” You shook out your wrists and Remington took you through back through the halls leading to the ballroom. 

You want to run up to one of the guards or guests or literally anyone, you want to throw elbows and break Remington’s jaw, but you don’t know what they have on them, you don’t know if they’re working with anyone else. It’s best to go along with it and keep everyone else safe, just keep your wits about you and your head high. It’s not like you were particularly visible at the moment, walking close to the wall with Tangerine on your left and Lemon on the right between you and the rest of the crowd with both your hands in the crook of their elbows. Your face must have betrayed the depth of your thoughts since Tangerine put his other hand on top of yours, funny of him to try and comfort you when he’s more than aiding in your kidnapping. “Where's the smile? They're going to think I'm holding you hostage, honey.” 

“Sorry.” You tried to find some humor in his sarcasm but the reality was tumbling at you too fast and your cheek was beginning to bruise. 

“Like I said, it’ll be over soon.” 

There was a black car waiting outside, and at least Lemon held the door open for you to get in the back seat then helped make sure none of your skirt got caught in the door. He sat with you and Tangerine drove while Remington sat in the passenger seat. It was hard to stifle a scoff when she tried to put her hand on his wrist as he shifted, only for him to immediately bring it back to the wheel. It was a busy European city, difficult to navigate its crowded streets but he managed. 

“Can you roll down the window a little bit? I need some air.” You asked sweetly, meekly so they might be more inclined to acquiesce. Besides the initial fight and your sharp tongue, Tangerine thought you’d been quite cooperative, so he lowered it a few inches.

Just enough space for you to unclasp your necklace and throw it out the window. It was at that horrific moment that the car slowed down exponentially and in the instant Remington saw what you did she let out a horrific scream. Yelling “What the fuck is wrong with you, you bitch?!?!?” at the top of her lungs like you threw her ten million dollar necklace out the window, not your own. She jumped out the car to go find it and slammed the door behind her just as the traffic was letting up.

“Did she pay you already?” You said hurriedly.

“You think we’d be dealing with her shit if she didn’t.”

“So you’ll drive?”

“To get away from that fuckin bitch? Anything.” He slammed his foot on the gas and wove between cars. 

“What about your necklace?” Lemon asked. 

“This one?” You pulled it out of your deep pocket and they both whooped and laughed at your cunning. 

“You’re something else, love.”

“Thank you.”

“So, where to?” Still going top speed on the now open road.

“Wherever you like.”

thank you for reading and I just want to remind you that if you really want to appreciate your writers, comments and reblogs especially are the way to go, that's how things circulate here and as much as I appreciate the likes, your words mean more than I could ever express

[iamboundtowhen]

The original Coon Creek Girls. An all female string band of Appalachian style folk and country music.

They played often at the Renfro Valley Barn Dance Show at Mt. Vernon. But had their own gigs too, including playing at the White House on June 8, 1939 for King George Vl, Queen Elizabeth, President Franklin D. Roosevelt, and First Lady Eleanor.

Lily Mae Ledford, born in Pilot, Kentucky, was the founder of the group, in the mid 1930’s.

Lily Mae’s father, White Ledford, was a well known old time fiddler. Lily Mae told the story about making her first fiddle bow from a willow branch and a “generous potion of the tail from old Maude, grandpappy’s old white mare”.

Photo by Coley Ogg’s daughter and son in law, Elbert and Elizabeth Fortner of the Ogg Studio.

Non-commercial use only.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Here in America we the people have a continent on which to work out our destiny, and our faith is great that our men and women are fit to face the mighty days. Nowhere else in all the world is there such a chance for the triumph on a gigantic scale of the great cause of Democratic and popular government. If we fail, the failure will be lamentable, and our heads will be bowed with shame; for not only shall we fail for ourselves, but our failure will wreck the fond desires of all throughout the world who look toward us with the fond hope that here in this great Republic it shall be proved from ocean to ocean that the people can rule themselves, and thus ruling can gain liberty for and do justice both to themselves and to others. We who stand for the cause of the uplift of humanity and the betterment of mankind are pledged to eternal war against wrong whether by the few or by the many, by a plutocracy or by a mob. We believe that this country will not be a permanently good place for any of us to live in unless we make it a reasonably good place for all of us to live in. The sons of all of us will pay in the future if we of the present do not do justice to all in the present. Our cause is the cause of justice for all in the interest of all.

—Theodore Roosevelt, Address to the Republican National Convention, Chicago, IL, June 17, 1912.

[Robert Scott Horton]

[dustyy-angel]

The Best Newsies Thing submissions

Race's cigar

Jack Kelly

The money the movie didn't make

King Of New York

Davey Jacobs

David Jacobs (movie)

Seize The Day

Sprace

Crutchie (uksies)

Trans Racetrack headcanons

Crutchie

92sies Mush's front flip during Carrying The Banner

Race

Spot Conlon (movie)

Javey

Javid

King Of New York (movie)

Newsies fanfiction

Kid Blink (movie)

Katherine

The tony awards performance

Spot Conlon (uksies)

The chair Mike Faist fell through

Ben Cook kicking himself in the face

Jeremy Jordan attempting to dance and almost falling on his face during the proshot bows

Bill and Darcy

Albert

Albert (uksies)

Christian Bale falling over every time he tries to dance

Race (movie)

Santa Fe

Les pretending to smoke his candy to imitate Jack

Musical Davey's character development

Mush (movie)

The Delancey brothers

"The woild is yer erster"

Bumlets spinning on the ceiling fan

Jack Kelly (uksies)

Stray x Lucky (uksies)

Elmer

JoJo

Finch

Santa Fe (movie)

"Hi i'm Andrew Keenan-Bolger and I play Crutchie in disney's Newsies"

Dancing with the stars performance

Carrying The Banner

Carrying The Banner (movie)

"GO GET EM COWBOY! YOU GOT EM NOW BOY!"

"Our man Denton!"

Bryan Denton (movie)

Unemployed by Joshua Burrage and Ben Cook

"THE POOR GUYS HEAD IS SPINNING!"

Ben warming up and Andrew putting on multiple pairs of headphones

Sarah Jacobs (movie)

Specs (Ryan Steele)

Specs

Jack Kelly (movie)

Katherine (uksies)

Out There in Santa Fe by Ben Fankhauser

"I am a kooOOOoiiiii"

Andy Richardson crawling around like something from a horror movie

Ben and Sky dancing to What If I Go

“Forget about Trey. Where’s my fucken chair?”

Andrew forgetting the strike sign

Kara accidently throwing the broom into the orchestra pit

Corey Cott singing the Santa Fe key change four bars early

"It's oyster Race" "THATS WHAT I SAID"

Sniper

Les Jacobs (movie)

Letter From The Refuge

Once And For All

Skittery (movie)

Jess LeProtto falling into the orchestra pit

Finches slingshot

Gay/Trans awakenings caused by the movie

Za Zooming Out

"Up stays, uh upstairs"

Bad weather and shopping

Tommy Bracco pep talks

Letter From The Refuge (Ben Cook edition)

Anthony Rosenthal's vlogs

Redfinch

Newsies fanart

Seize The Day (movie)

Blush

Blood Drips Heavily On Newsies Square

The stage directions for Jack shaking Roosevelt's hand

Jeremy Jordan

Ben Fankhauser

Henry

Newsies Got Swag

Brooklyn's Here

WWH (reprise) at broadway bakes and Cory keeps messing up

Anything You Can Do by Mike Faist and Adam Kaplan

Ben and Lavon singing Something To Believe In

"AAAHHHHHHHH" "See this, this is Newsies"

92sies Jack saying "ambastards" instead of ambassadors

"Tell me how quitting does Crutchie any good" "Dszahdh"

Crutchie swearing in uksies

The amount of ass-slapping in livesies

[columboscreens]

ive been rewatching columbo eps on prime video (idk where to get the other season after 7 :c) and i'm just done with A Case of Immunity, the one with the Suarian Kingdom and the whitest middle east guy i've ever seen ? And like. I'm not a fan of that episode, but. I feel like i'm missing a lot of political or historical context for that episode ? And I wanted to know if you knew more. Thank u, I'll get back to my little guy show now.

you're not missing much.

the latter portion of original columbo was marked by an increased desire to show him in radically different contexts--between a man on international waters, an arab diplomat, a IRA liason, a CIA agent, and a mexican matador, it suffices to say columbo got around a little more as time went on. and due to the growing US interest in the middle east throughout the 70s (most of europe's imperialist/colonialist tendrils had vacated, cold war alliances were being made, israel, oil, etc.) i suppose they thought people would want to see something topical. they also didn't want to piss anybody off, so the Very Real Country of Suari it was.

the role of hassan salah was originally intended for ben gazzara, but he was scrapped by the network for being too expensive (much to peter falk's consternation). mine too, really, because though hector elizondo did a fantastic job, i think gazzara would've played a better arab. he was sicillian, but i wouldn't be surprised if he had actual arab heritage, as sicilians very often do. his surname is arabic as hell--غزارة is arabic for "abundance", which ended up as a loanward in italian to mean "noisy".

ultimately though, the middle east is an ethnically and geographically diverse region containing a wide variety of looks and skin tones. for one, i and my entire family are lebanese. my skin is rather pale, my grandfather was tan but had pale blue eyes, my aunt is nearly blonde, etc. so elizondo's countenance may not scream "arab" nearly as much as gazzara's, but levant, maghreb, or gulf--he's not all that unbelievable either.

funnily enough, in middle ages arabia, those with blue eyes were associated with duplicitous and untrustworthy behavior....

i guess something that does kinda make me roll my eyes is the treatment of the language. to their credit, the characters do speak and write real arabic in the show, albeit...poorly. obviously it's a 70s tv movie, who cares about accurate glottal stops, but they spent like eight grand to rent a learjet for one of the scenes, and the arabic is real and (mostly) intelligible, so clearly somebody translated it. would it have killed them to hire a dialect coach?

we did get some extremely jewish-sounding arabic out of peter though. so. all is emphatically forgiven

the one thing that truly rubs me the wrong way about the episode is that it's noxiously sympathetic to the american political ethos of the time, which as we well know could do no wrong. watch columbo OWN this EVIL diplomat donned in traditional garb who wants to retain his country's DISGUSTING traditional ways while the new, hip young king who was probably forcefully instituted by american troops in a coup you'll never learn about is COOL and LOVES AMERICA and will lead his oil-filled country on camelback into a beautiful sunset of BEING COOL and LOVING AMERICA. there's NO WAY this could go south. STOP looking at iran NOW

(speaking of which, the state dept. rep who bursts columbo's bubble, kermit morgan, might or might not be a nod to kermit roosevelt jr. who played a central role in the CIA's ousting of iran's mosaddegh in 1953)

...least he's honest

anyway, in retrospect this episode isn't the series' finest moment, but it's a decent watch--and believe me, far and away not the worst treatment of arabs hollywood has thrown at us over the years. i know i'd certainly take a dozen of these over whatever the hell they were churning out post-9/11.

wallahi i could've forgiven the weird culturally inaccurate bowing if they just put columbo in a keffiyeh...

[thesoapgirl]

teddy

I named him “Teddy” because it felt right and I think I was 7 or so and I wasn’t very original. If I could go back, I would give him a cute name like Honeydew or Maple, but no, I went with Teddy because he felt like the quintessential “teddy bear.” Just, brown. Brown bead eyes, and a brown bow at his neck. I liked him because he was simple and he felt right. He didn’t feel like all of the other cheap stuffed animals I had gotten so far in life. I loved the satin feel of his paws, through which, I could feel the small beads that gave his hands and feet more weight than other stuffed toys. He was balanced, evenly stuffed, proportioned just right, and perfect in my eyes. I can’t tell you what else I got that Christmas morning or who even gifted him to me, but I can perfectly remember unwrapping him and holding him up, my living room light a backdrop for what I believed to be the most perfect stuffed bear. 

Later, I would tell people that I named him after the 26th president of the United States, Theodore Roosevelt, to make the naming seem more profound, like I had taken the time to actually think about the name. I wanted to show off my genius, how I knew the trivial fact of the origin of the name of “Teddy’s Bear.” When I was younger, I felt the need to prove myself, to show everyone how smart I was. But, really, I named him “Teddy” because that is what he looked like. He looked like the perfect teddy bear. 

Later, I would come to terms with the fact that not everything has to be perfect or profound or extraordinarily significant, and naming a stuffed brown bear with brown eyes and a brown bow, “Teddy” is perfectly okay and fine. Not everything has to have meaning. Not everything has to be special and unique. He is just a stuffed brown bear that I named Teddy because I was young and I had object recognition.

He has followed me my entire life. He has lived in many different places; in my bed when I was young and found comfort in safe and warm things that I could hug and talk to. He’s lived in closets when I was old enough to be embarrassed of the things I loved, and in boxes when it was time to move. He spent a whole year in a classroom, near my teaching desk, and now he spends time on my bookshelf or my couch or my desk because sometimes I like to pick him up for a second and put him down somewhere else.  

I have picked him up once again, just now, and I am looking at him more closely, 22 years later. He is still the perfect brown, although a little faded, with brown bead eyes, and a brown bow at his neck, the ends of which I have tucked into the main loop to hide the fact that I chewed on them when I was younger. It gives him a more sophisticated look; he has a bowtie now instead of a bow. We’ve both grown up. He seems lighter now, though, more fragile. 

For some reason, the texture of his fur is different, it has spread in some places, and faded in others, and for some reason the fur around his face now covers most of his brown eyes, making them seem closed. He looks tired, and I empathize with that. Me too, Teddy. I sniff him, and he smells like all things that live in closets and corners and boxes in the dark do. The satin on his paws has started to wear away, the fabric is thinning out, and for the first time, I look at the tag on his bottom, half of which seems to have fallen off as time has passed.

 Here is what I can tell you: the manufacturer is a company called KELLYTOY, located in Los Angeles. His stuffing is polyester and the little beads in his hands and feet are actually plastic pellets, and he was made in China. I can’t tell you what year he was made. I tried googling different combinations of “KELLYTOY” and “brown bear” and “2002,” but I didn’t find him, my Teddy, and that makes him feel more special somehow.

And, now, as I am holding him again, my chest tightens. We’ve both survived this long. He’s a little matted and faded, and well, so am I. I am looking at him again, and I am reminded of the magic I have always believed in. The magic that lives in between the letters of words. The magic that lives in the spaces between pages and kissing lips and deep breaths. The same magic that allows me to convince myself that this stuffed brown bear with brown eyes and a brown bowtie is proud of me. That he’s watched me this entire time, from the boxes and the shelves and couches and desks and he is glad that I am still here.

[manorpunk]

“Sunny Roosevelt here to deliver the morning updates and affirmations to all my loyal voters and subscribers! Folks, I’ve been thinking about one of the important, hard-hitting issues facing the Usonian hypernation - what title should I give myself? At first I thought ‘queen’ would be befitting of my new station,” she put a hand to her chin and the white bow in her hair flapped slightly with a sense of self-satisfaction, “and it would also give me a reason to try out my ojou-sama laugh. But ‘queen’ also makes me sound old,” her hand moved from her chin to waggle a disapproving finger, “and I plan on being young forever, so that just wouldn’t work. Then I considered ‘empress.’ Empress Sunny Roosevelt has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” she put her hands on her hips and smiled.

“But the provisional government wouldn’t swing for it, they said we’re trying to move away from the whole ‘imperial USA’ thing, which… okay, fair,” her shoulders slumped forward and she grimaced, begrudgingly accepting defeat for a moment before perking right back up, “so we settled on good old fashioned ‘president.’ I like ‘president’ for a couple reasons - a president presides, and the dictionary defines ‘preside’ - shut up, it’s not corny to quote dictionary definitions - the dictionary defines ‘preside’ as ‘to exercise guidance, direction, or control’ and ‘to be in a position of authority,’ and that is definitely what I want to be perceived as doing. For another thing,” her face turned downwards in an aggrieved scowl, “it means the presidents of California and Texas got bumped back down to ‘governors,’ which I’m fine with, because frankly, I think those two could stand to be brought down a peg, and furthermore-”

The stream suddenly switched to a static frame with text stating “We’ll be right back, Sunny’s having a whoopsie-doodle moment!” beneath an image of an embarrassed Sunny shrugging while a mushroom cloud detonated in the background.

“...but don’t tell anyone I said that, since it would technically be a crime against humanity,” Sunny said when the feed was restored about ten seconds later. She paused and blinked at the camera a few times, smiling. “Anyway, I also strongly considered declaring myself Padishah.”

[mariacallous]

U.S. President Joe Biden delivered one of the most political—and politically significant—State of the Union addresses in memory on Thursday night, laying out in the starkest of terms the stakes of the forthcoming election for the United States and the entire world.

Considering that the United States is not under direct threat of war, perhaps what was most striking about the speech was that Biden opened it by invoking President Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s State of the Union from January 1941, ahead of America’s entry into World War II. “I address you in a moment unprecedented in the history of the union,” Biden quoted FDR as saying.

“Now, it’s we who face an unprecedented moment,” Biden said. And then, without ever naming him, Biden cast his almost-certain 2024 opponent, former President Donald Trump, in the menacing role of Adolf Hitler and the Nazis. If that were not enough, Biden immediately went on to identify Trump and his “Make America Great Again” (MAGA) movement with the Confederates who seceded from the union.

“Not since President Lincoln and the Civil War have freedom and democracy been under assault at home as they are today,” Biden said. “What makes our moment rare is that freedom and democracy are under attack both at home and overseas at the very same time.”

In other words, the president seemed to be saying, the nation faces in Trump an even more perilous threat today than FDR and Abraham Lincoln—generally considered two of the greatest U.S. presidents in history—did individually. Biden then proceeded to lambaste his “predecessor”—as he repeatedly called Trump—over and over. Biden accused Trump of “bowing down” to Russian President Vladimir Putin over his Ukraine invasion; fomenting political violence at home (“You can’t love your country only when you win,” Biden said); sounding like a fascist by saying immigrants are “poison in the blood of our country”; and shrugging his shoulders over endemic gun violence.

Biden repeatedly sounded the theme of the combined domestic and foreign threat posed by Trump: that is, peace in peril abroad, democracy undermined at home. “If the United States walks away, it will put Ukraine at risk. Europe is at risk. The free world will be at risk, emboldening others to what they wish to do us harm,” he said. “History is watching. Just like history watched three years ago on Jan. 6, when insurrectionists stormed this very Capitol and placed a dagger to the throat of American democracy.”

One thing is clear: Biden and his team were intent on overcoming, all at once, the cascading doubts about his age (81) and his record that have left him with grim approval ratings, virtually turning him into an underdog against Trump with just eight months to go. The president waited until the end of his nearly 70-minute speech to confront the single biggest issue of his reelection bid—his age—but he did it forcefully and without any obvious flagging of energy.

“I know I may not look like it, but I’ve been around awhile,” Biden joked, giving his big, white-toothed grin. “When you get to my age, certain things become clearer than ever before. … My fellow Americans, the issue facing our nation isn’t how old we are, it’s how old are our ideas. Hate, anger, revenge, retribution are the oldest of ideas. But you can’t lead America with ancient ideas that only take us back.”

Will it work to save his presidency? Biden’s 2023 State of the Union, despite getting rave reviews, didn’t affect his low approval ratings much. This address, however, landed at a very different moment. Coming only two days after Biden’s big wins on Super Tuesday and the departure of Trump’s last Republican opponent, Nikki Haley, from the presidential race, the speech also served as a harsh reality check for the American electorate. For the first time, it is apparent that Biden isn’t going anywhere and that Trump will be his opponent eight months from now—that only this halting 81-year-old man stands between disaster and the continuation of American democracy, in the eyes of many Americans.

The obvious bet of the Biden campaign is that the threat of a would-be autocrat—much like an imminent hanging—concentrates the mind wonderfully, in Samuel Johnson’s formulation. Suddenly, people no longer have the luxury of wishing they had someone 30 years younger, or more inspirational, to vote for. It’s just Joe and Donald now. People are clearly not excited about a Biden second term, even most Democrats. But if that is all they’re left with—if the choice is a bad cold versus cancer—then the course suddenly becomes clearer.

“People always like to say that they have to choose between the lesser of two evils,” Norm Kurz, Biden’s former Senate communications director, said in an email. “Biden’s refrain that voters should not compare him to the Almighty but to the alternative will begin to resonate.”

His speech recalled past moments when U.S. presidents sought to clarify the stakes at an existential level. None more so than Lincoln’s 1862 State of the Union address, when he said, “The fiery trial through which we pass will light us down in honor or dishonor to the latest generation.” Or John F. Kennedy’s warning in January 1961—at the height of the Cold War—that the nation faced “an hour of national peril and national opportunity” when “we shall have to test anew whether a nation organized and governed such as ours can endure.”

Yet it was also a measure of the delicate balance that Biden has been forced to achieve in his presidency—restoring America’s traditional global cop role while playing to the neo-isolationist sentiment that Trump has awakened—that the president deferred to the millions of voters who believe the United States is overextended in the world. He touted his “Buy American” neo-protectionist approach to national security, saying, “Past administrations including my predecessor … failed to buy American”—and even as he pushed again for a $60.1 billion aid package to Ukraine, he repeated that American troops would not get pulled in.

Biden also sought to stamp out a brewing progressive insurgency over his pro-Israel Middle East policy—hundreds of thousands of primary voters registered their discontent with him on Tuesday, and protesters Thursday sought to block his motorcade to the Capitol—by announcing the creation of a pier off the coast of Gaza that would “enable a massive increase in the amount of humanitarian assistance” going to besieged Palestinians.

Here, as well, Biden pledged, “No U.S. boots will be on the ground.”

Biden spent the majority of his speech in more traditional State of the Union fashion, spelling out a positive agenda that contrasted with Trump’s “ancient ideas” and reminding voters of his greatest accomplishments. Among them, “the most significant action ever on climate in the history of the world”—cutting carbon emissions in half by 2030 and creating tens of thousands of clean-energy jobs—and his Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, including 46,000 new projects “moderniz[ing] our roads and bridges, ports and airports, public transit systems,” as well as a spate of new gun laws. Biden boasted about preserving NATO—“the strongest military alliance the world has ever seen”—and introduced the prime minister of Sweden, the alliance’s newest member, who stood up grinning and waving in the gallery.

The president also announced plans to increase taxes on corporate wealth; remove tax breaks for Big Pharma, Big Oil, and executive pay; and noted he has signed into law a bill that dramatically reduces the cost of prescription drugs. He also hit Trump hard on reproductive rights, which polls show have hurt Republicans badly, saying abortion opponents have “no clue about the power of women” in America. Biden declared, “I will restore Roe v. Wade as the law of the land again.”

On the issue that has most frustrated him, the economy—which polls show a plurality of voters believe Trump would be stronger on despite strong growth numbers—Biden continued to insist that it’s just a matter of time before voters realize how good they now have it. “I inherited an economy that was on the brink. Now our economy is literally the envy of the world. Fifteen million new jobs in just three years—a record, a record. Unemployment at 50-year lows,” he said. “Wages keep going up. Inflation keeps coming down. Inflation has dropped from 9 percent to 3 percent—the lowest in the world.”

The rhetoric was rousing, even incendiary, possibly a little desperate. But Biden, let’s face it, will never be a great speechmaker. The stiffness, slurring, and occasional stutter that seem to make every Biden speech a breathless high-wire act—one never knows if he’ll get all the way through a sentence without stumbling—were all there Thursday night, accompanied by an occasional coughing spell between applause lines.

Yet the president also didn’t commit any major gaffes and finished as strong as he started. The president was effective, too, in repeating his tactic from last year’s speech in mocking GOP lawmakers who shouted out insults, especially given how ineffective and obstructionist the Republican House has been. Without quite saying so, Biden came close to emulating President Harry S. Truman’s successful 1948 tactic of attacking the infamous “do-nothing” Congress. Over and over, Biden challenged the Republican-led House of Representatives to pass long-stalled legislation, especially the Ukraine national security aid. In any case, the Republicans were repeatedly drowned out by chants of “four more years” from Democrats, which also gave the whole affair the flavor of a campaign rally.

Biden’s State of the Union address was always going to be less about what he said than how he said it—how he spoke, how he walked to the podium, how he responded to his hecklers—and by that measure he succeeded. Above all, Biden was plainly showing his confidence that American voters will come to see, finally, that his programs are working.

The challenge for Biden—and Americans—is that his opponent, the previous president, is now deploying similarly apocalyptic rhetoric. In a speech in late February, Trump also drew comparisons to World War II, saying, “This time, the greatest threat is not from the outside of our country, I really believe this. It’s the people from within our country that are more dangerous. They’re very sick people.” And following his victories in 14 states Tuesday night, Trump said that under Biden the United States had been reduced to “a third-world country.”

The data of accomplishments are clearly on Biden’s side. Even so, Biden can no longer be as confident—as he was after the 2022 midterm elections—that it’s just a question of time before voters appreciate his policies. The day after the midterm elections, Biden projected confidence in the country’s direction, responding “nothing” when asked what he will do differently in the next two years.

That tactic didn’t work. It remains to be seen whether the president’s new one will.

[races-stupid-cigar]

watched another local production of Newsies that was ok? It wasn't bad definitely had a limiting budget but I don't really want to talk here about the bad parts

Poor guy forgot his head was spinning (the only forgotten line) rip Davey

Had a girl playing Jack so no jathrine kiss but instead a really cute forehead touch

Pulitzers bow was Bunsin and Seizs carrying him in on their shoulders like he deserves

due to double casting Spot had only two lines and Race took his office scene lines rip Spot fans

the Medda fucking slapped

THE PLAYBILL WAS AN ACTUAL NEWSPAPER WITH THE FOLD AND SEVERAL PAGES EVERYTHING IT WAS SICK AS HELL

Roosevelt looked exactly like Harvey from Stardew Valley

[nyoomnyoomplane]

my friends and i are watching newsies and here’s the general consunsuses:

We hate Les

Jack and Davey are gay

Jeremy Jordan look a bit constipated the whole time

Me: I love newsies. My friends(sarcastic): we’d never have known

Les should be sacrificed to the pape gods

When Les was being rolled in the barrel: oh, that’s the child

Crutchie being beat with his own crutch, my friend: oh my!

My friend turned 17 yesterday and is now in her Jack Kelly era

Les dancing = childography

We paused it towards the end of KONY because it was freezing and we sang frère jacques (in a very failed round) and high school musical

Morris Delancey has something wrong with him

The Delancey brothers are not even that intimidating

When Jack gets the money after the rally: It’s the betrayal. It’s the angst. It’s the gay. (All while using very overdramatic movements)

The initial jatherine kiss is nothing but toxic. she should have punched him and sent jack to go kiss davey

I was far too high singing Katherine’s part in Something to Beleive In. I don’t know what happened.

Race flirts with everyone he interacts with

Romeo calls everyone baby girl

Pulitzers new name is daddy pussylitzer (unfortunately)

Spot and Davey’s height difference is hilarious

Roosevelt sound like the conductor from the Polar Express

It froze on the kiss just before the finale and there was boos and shouts of homophobia

During the bows: Meddaaaaa

[thebardostate]

A Child's Memory of a Past Life as a Hollywood Actor and Agent

From Return to Life: Extraordinary Cases of Children Who Remember Past Lives by Jim Tucker, MD (2013), Chapter 5

A five-year-old child, Ryan, had been telling his parents for about a year about wanting to go home to Hollywood to see his "other family". He was very insistent and would not stop talking about it, and spent much of his playtime acting out being in the movies. His parents were conservative Christians who did not believe in reincarnation and contacted past life researchers only when the boy kept having nightmares where he would wake up grabbing his chest and saying when he was in Hollywood his heart exploded. Ryan also described what it was like to die and be reborn, as well as correctly describing some incidents that occurred during her pregnancy with Ryan that he should have had no way of knowing about.

The mother took Ryan to the library to look at pictures of Hollywood. He recognized Rita Hayworth from a photograph, and said he knew her and that she made him a Coke float. When they came across a production photo from a Mae West film called Night After Night he became very excited. Recognizing one person, he said “Hey Mama, that’s George. We did a picture together. And Mama, that guy’s me. I found me.”

The man Ryan recognized as "George" was George Raft, one of the stars of the picture. The man Ryan pointed to as "me" appears on the far right side of the above photo, wearing a bow tie, bowler hat and tan overcoat; he played a minor, uncredited role in the film. Ryan described a scene he was in involving a closet full of guns, and when they later reviewed the film on YouTube there was indeed such a scene.

Ryan offered several other comments about people he knew in Hollywood such as Marilyn Monroe; when he tried to pick her up at a party, a minder from the studio gave him a shiner.

His mother kept a journal of Ryan’s statements and contacted a research team at the University of Virginia. Ryan was initially reluctant to discuss his memories with anyone but his parents for fear people would think he was crazy. Ryan said the reason he had to come back was that he didn’t spend enough time with his family in his last life; he worked so much that he forgot that love was the most important thing.

Ryan had nightmares about a man he called “Senator Five” who he said was “the nastiest villain who ever lived” and lived in New York, talked about an agency and going to a graveyard with a buddy who worked for that agency. He started kindergarten but got off on the wrong foot for telling the class about Hollywood and the agency during story time, opening himself up to ridicule from his classmates.

Ryan also began talking about Broadway, and Ryan began tap dancing during cartoons that had music. Ryan said when he lived before he had taught himself and danced tap routines with two buddies.

Ryan reacted very strongly to a film clip of Franklin Roosevelt, booing and calling him an idiot. He also made many statements about his family: his past mother had curly brown hair, he had two sisters one of whom was three years younger than him, and he had a difficult relationship with one of his stepdaughters. He also claimed to have taken a “big boat” to visit Paris, New York and China (where he said he had to learn to eat with chopsticks.) Ryan loved Chinese food and was unusually proficient with chopsticks for a five-year-old child.

Ryan made numerous other statements about his previous life that I am omitting for brevity. Before discusses these, as well as the researchers’ efforts to validate them.

After some digging, researchers found a possible candidate for “Senator Five”. Ryan was shown several photographs and asked if he recognized any of them. The researchers took care to make sure they were not giving any subtle hints. He recognized one person - Irving Ives, US Senator for New York for 12 years in the late 40s and 50s. Ryan said he was “Senator Five”.

US Senator Irving Ives

The researchers finally traced the man in the photograph wearing the bowler. His name was Marty Martyn. They were able to trace and contact Martyn’s only biological daughter, who verified many details supplied by Ryan: Martyn’s mother had curly brown hair, he had two sisters, and he had gone to New York early in his career to be a dancer. He then went to Hollywood and began as an extra and a dance director. He then became a talent agent and set up the Marty Martyn Agency. Martyn had several connections to Rita Hayworth. His wife’s family knew Marilyn Monroe. Martyn became quite wealthy and married four times. Ryan said his address had had the word Rock or Mount in it, and Martyn’s house address was 825 N. Roxbury.

Martyn did travel the world, going to Paris on the Queen Mary. The daughter wasn’t sure but doubted that Martyn went to China, but Chinese food was a favorite of his and he was proficient with chopsticks. He was a Republican who hated Franklin Roosevelt. The daughter had a photograph of Martyn with Senator Ives. She confirmed that Martyn did have a difficult relationship with his oldest stepdaughter.

Martyn died on Christmas Day in 1964, of a cerebral hemorrhage. His death was unwitnessed, so there was no way to resolve the discrepancy about Ryan claiming his heart “exploded” and being unable to breathe. As Ryan got older his recollections became less frequent until they finally stopped altogether.

[undescribed1mage]

I saw newsies at a local (ish) theatre & uhh here are my totally comprehensible notes !!

Crutchie tried their best 2 walk past Jack before santa fe (prologue) but they dropped their crutch while grabbing his bag, he also pointed at 2 themself in a kinda 'me?' motion when Jack said, 'soon your friends are more like family,'

This Crutchie was PHENOMENAL.

They like full on screamed the Strike line, & sobbed when they is were arrested it was devastating

Specs came onstage in his pajamas, in one of those blue sleeping gowns with that one type of hat — also a bunch of clotheslines were hung up & the newsies took them down & put some of them on

Mush was played by a girl !!

The bowery beauties were adorable

Medda helped one of them fix her feathers in her hair before the show

Also Medda was INCREDIBLE. she was on a swing during that's rich, & threw her gloves & one of the feathers in her hair at Davey & Les

The Bowery Beauties said thank you to the chains holding up the swing when they went back into the ceiling

One of the Bowery beauties had a ribbon routine, & when Medda yelled at Jack 2 pay attention, the bowery beauty started crying & said 'I worked so hard on this & he isn't even paying attention!'

Davey showed up 2 the circulation gate wearing a FULL SUIT.

Race had his feet on the table in Jacobi's, Jacobi yelled at him for it, then he proceeded to DANCE on the table (like any rational person)

Henry had Les on his shoulders 4 the photo & hugged Katherine after

Jack, freaking out because crutchie was just arrested:

The rest of the newsies doing flips around him: <3

Katherine was wearing pants that were made to look like a skirt

Also Hannah was chewing gum (not really, but yk) during her scenes (she also played the bowery beauty that cried)

All of the scabs were played by children

The Delancey brothers laughed SO HARD at the skull busting arm joke

Wiesel gestured 4 Race 2 come towards him when he (Race) said he'd tell him (Wiesel) himself

Jack put his head on Davey's shoulder while Les went & asked the lady 2 buy his last paper

Then before she walked off he said smth along the lines of the fact that their parents that don't exist will be so happy

'OYSTER. SAY IT. OYSTER. —' One of the newsies. This is not the first time this has happened.

THE PULITZER REVEAL WAS DEVASTATING

KATHERINE SLOWLY SHOOK HER HEAD AT PULITZER DURING THE 'TOO BAD YOU NO FAMILY, BUT YOU CAN'T HAVE MINE.' LINE

Brooklyn was all girls & they all had matching hats it was the CUTEST THING

Spot bowed when Medda walked in

Spot was also ABSOLUTELY PHENOMENAL I spoke 2 her after too she was lovely

She tried 2 hug Jack when he walked in then Jack ignored her how dare he, she also jumped on Davey's back when them winning was announced, picked Pulitzer's pocket, played with the phones that were off the line & was just overall AMAZING. she also hugged her girls before they walked off stage for the finale

Spot looked straight at me, winked, & did finger guns during the 'a new world is coming for you line & I'm so. I am SO.

Spot also hugged Race & Henry, & put Elmer's cap over his face

Crutchie was also crying (& very clearly in pain) during Letter From The Refuge.

Also. Katherine & Crutchie's faces when they saw Medda & Roosevelt together. They were so

Spot & Davey also smiled at Pulitzer when Roosevelt said 'Think of the happiness it'll bring those children!'

ROMEO HAD A GODDAMN UNICYCLE.

Also. Crutchie walking on during letter from the refuge mirrored him walking on during Santa Fe (Prologue)

He & Jack hugged for so long when they were reunited.

Jack pretended 2 leave 4 Santa Fe before very quickly turning back around

Everyone boo'd when Jack said Pulitzer during his Rally speech

ALSO. RACE WAS SHAKING DURING THE POST FIGHT JACOBI'S SCENE. LIKE SO MUCH.

Jack was sooo ready 2 leave 4 Santa Fe in the scene before Watch What Happens (Reprise) he had his cowboy hat & everything

OH ALSO LES TRIED 2 HIT ALBERT PRE KONY

Also the kids singing outside Pulitzer's office were kind enough 2 turn around while Pulitzer & Jack talked

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Larry Desgaines sat on a piece of cardboard atop a damp rock near the mouth of a large sewer drain in Queens on a recent Friday evening. “It’s a privilege to be here,” he said, without irony.

It was just before sunset, and he was among a concert audience of about 50 people who were also perched on rocks, facing the waters of New York City Combined Sewer Outfall #BB 029, where the buried Sunswick Creek flows into the East River.

In the water, which, improbably, did not stink of sewage, two men in a canoe sat very still. The boat’s bow pointed toward land. As the sun dipped behind Roosevelt Island, another man sitting by the entrance of the tunnel banged on a metal pipe with a stick. The resulting sound was that of a ringing bell.

The canoe’s frontman, wearing a Tyrolean hat, yodeled: “Willkommen!” He drew out the final syllable, and his voice amplified and echoed in the tunnel. As the song ended, the canoe disappeared into the sewer, leaving only echoes behind.

This was the final evening of Drain Bramage, an unlikely concert organized by the musician and composer Stefan Zeniuk, along with experience designers N.D. Austin and Danielle Isadora Butler.

Mr. Austin and Ms. Butler are co-founders of the Tideland Institute, which encourages New Yorkers to treat their home as a maritime city, reimagining how various waterways might be used.

“The water in New York has just kind of become a backdrop to the city,” Ms. Butler said. “When actually, it is the why, and the how, of how the city was made — and how the city still functions.”

Mr. Austin has been involved in various watery, ephemeral experiences around the city over the years: a speakeasy in a shipping container, an extremely socially distanced desk floating on a raft in the East River, a bar inside a water tower.

Like his previous events, the sewer concert had a secretive, treasure-hunt aspect to it.

At 7:30 p.m., attendees gathered at the far end of a big box store, by a sign that read “Attention Shoppers.”

Instructions arrived via text message:

Follow the fenceline along the water. The sidewalk turns away from the river when it reaches a thick row of shrubbery hedge trees at the far end of the parking lot. Discreetly keep following the fence, *behind* the trees. There’s a small hole thru the fence. Be respectful of the fishermen.

One by one, people trickled down to the rocky shores of the East River and the banks of the underground creek turned sewer overflow. The concert was timed to correspond with low tide, allowing for watercraft to float into and out of the tunnel.

After the yodel echoes faded, there was a pause. Then came the silvery sound of a trumpet and the low moan of a tuba. Slowly, a wide barge emerged from the sewer, holding four horn players — Mr. Zeniuk was on saxophone — who performed as Mr. Austin and an associate kept the boat steady.

The horn piece, titled “Low Tide,” was composed especially for the night by Mr. Zeniuk. Foghorn-esque notes swirled and reverberated wildly, drowning out the noise from the adjacent parking lot.

For the musicians, much of the event’s allure was in the incredible, immersive, ricocheting acoustics produced by the sewer tunnel.

“It’s nature and magic, it’s chemistry,” said instrumentalist and singer Yuli Be’eri. “It’s alchemy. It’s all of it combined together.”

Ms. Be’eri followed the horn piece by emerging from the drain on a barge, playing a piano (from which the legs had been removed) while singing a song that was “partly made up, partly Hebrew poetry, partly random sounds.”

That evening, the skies were clear, but the concert was performed for four nights — including one during which New York City was in the grips of wildfire smoke drifting down from Canada.

“Wednesday, we weren’t even really sure if we were going to have a show, because that was the day that the entire sky was blood red,” Mr. Zeniuk said. Battling elements in order to sit next to a sewer made for a “communal sort of sort of situation,” he said. “It was really beautiful.”

The little cove by the water was quite peaceful. Birds tittered. Passing ferries created occasional waves, gently crashing against the rocks. Trees rustled in the breeze, and when people walked, there was the warm sound of dry leaves crunching and tiny twigs snapping.

Twilight set in, the dark crept around, and the show ended with another yodel. “Auf Wiedersehen,” sang the Tyrolean hatted man, Sylvester Schneider, from his perch in the canoe.

Ms. Butler thanked everyone for supporting New York’s “alternative underground culture.”

“It’s still alive!” she said.

As if on cue, a couple of bats, squealing and flapping, appeared near the drain opening and flew into the sky.

“Nowadays with social media, everything looks cooler than it is,” Ms. Be’eri said afterward. “Here, it was the opposite.”

She added: “Doing that was cooler than any picture of it you can ever see.”