#But that was more because i found those kids annoying than disliking rap itself

[awritersbro]

i guess another option is that if someone hates various genres of music they don't care enough to notice the difference and their brain puts it all in a big lump of "noise that i hate"???

Heard someone describe something as sounding like penis music today, which would be far less strange if they weren't 2 conservative Midwest dudes who i would expect to be out hunting and fishing far too often to know internet slang

is this a phrase used casually irl and ive just been too isolated to ever hear it before?

Who knows

Twas funk they were talking about, in case you were curious

[rachelbethhines]

Tangled Salt Marathon - The King and Queen of Hearts

The existence of this episode just baffles me, as it undermines so much of what season three was trying to accomplish. 

Summary:  Rapunzel continues to try and restore the memories of her parents, King Frederic and Queen Arianna, and hopes to use the journal of Herz Der Sonne to remind them, but they do not understand the significance. Arianna still lusts for adventure, while Frederic cannot get over his obsession of egg collecting. Rapunzel recruits her friends to try and set up the perfect date for them and while they cannot find anything in common personality wise, they share a mutual love for Rapunzel. However, King Trevor arrives with the intent to woo Arianna using an ocean crystal he found.

So What Exactly Is the History Here? 

We have no context for this sudden love triangle. All we know is that Trevor hates Frederic because he’s still in love with Arianna who wound up marrying him instead. 

But like, I don't know why Arianna married Frederic. I don’t know why Trevor is still hung up on her years later. Did she actually choose Frederic or was it an arranged marriage cause that’s what royalty did back then? Was she having an affair with Trevor this whole time but couldn’t/wouldn’t leave because of duty? Was she and Trevor pining star crossed lovers, or is Trevor just an incel? 

I know what the story wants me to assume; that Arianna deeply loves Frederic and that Trevor is just a jackass loser; but the series has done such a poor job of making Frederic likable and giving him and Arianna any sort of chemistry that I’m inclined to side with Trevor. 

For all we know, he may be trying to rescue Arianna from both her memory loss and her abusive relationship while at it. Especially now that she’s no longer needed as a ruler and has no reason to stay in Corona. 

Why Not Just Use the Potion from Rapunzel: Day One? 

While any Varian cameo is appreciated, it doesn’t add thing to the story. In fact it only raises more questions. We already had a cure for the memory loss, why aren’t we using it? 

Even if we write it off as Rapunzel no longer having that particular Saporian spellbook on hand, she still has a whole dungeon full of actual Saporians who know magic that she could gain information from! There’s also Xavier, who already knows everything under the sun about Saporian/Coronian history and magic and owns spellbooks galore. You’re telling me he just has mood potions lying around but can’t brew up a cure for memory loss? 

Then there’s also the fact that the amnesia spell doesn’t work on Rapunzel’s parents the same as it did on Rapunzel and we’re never given a reason why. Like just some basic consistence is all I ask show. 

I also can’t figure out what Varian is even trying to do here. Where’s is the science to this? What does strawberry goop and lighting have to do with memory? It’s just a cheap reference to Frankenstein and nothing more.  

We’re Already Pass Seven Months Since Rapunzel’s Return. 

Ok, I have gotten into frequent debates with people about the timeline of season three. Many a story board artist and writer on the show have came forward and stated that season three was only one year. But the very existence of this episode disproves them! 

If you remember season one, Hearts Day took place after the Goodwill Festival, but before Queen for a Day. Even when putting episodes back into their intended production order that still remains true. 

Hearts Day has to be at least seven months past Rapunzel’s birthday, if not eight months, because the Goodwill Festival is six months past and her parent’s anniversary (QfaD) is nine months past. 

Now Rapunzel’s Return has to be Rapunzel’s 20th birthday because season two was a full year, and even if you say it’s not, then that still doesn’t explain Once a Handmaiden (the Goodwill Festival) coming after this episode.  

And no you can’t move the episodes around, Once a Handmaiden has be the second to last episode of the series and Under Raps always comes after Rapunzel’s Enemy in any order you watch the series in. 

No matter how you slice it, we’re missing a birthday episode for Rapunzel and season three has to be more than a year; a year and a half at the very least, if not two full years.  

Look I’m not trying to be disrespectful of the talented artists who worked on this show, but their word isn’t law. The very fact that they’ve had to tell us the timeline after the series was over with indicates bad writing, and the very fact that the show itself contradicts them indicates either a lack of communication behind the scenes or a lack of editorial oversight. Either option is just poor management. 

We Have Yet Another Failed Narrative Promise! 

Are we seeing a pattern yet? 

This is the third time in a row where the episode flat out states that Rapunzel needs to learn something and then, just, never has her learn it; four if you count her non-apology to Varian. Instead the show rewards her for her bad behavior by just giving her want she wants on a sliver platter for no adequate reason. 

In fact, one could argue that this episode is the worst offender in the show because divorce is a real thing real kids have to go through. Children that will undoubtedly watch the series. 

How upsetting would it be to such a child to watch Rapunzel force her parents back together  with zero consequences and realize that they can’t do that in real life? It can potentially feed into misplaced delusions or make them even more bitter, either way it’s unhealthy and super irresponsible to tackle such subject matter in this way. Even Sesame Street handled the topic of divorce better than this supposedly ‘mature’ show. 

It’s a Castle! Why Can’t Frederic Get His Own Room?

Frederic is the king. He still technically owns everything even if he’s not the one still in charge. He could have his pick of any room so why is he forcing himself on Eugene? Hell he doesn’t even have to stay in the castle. As pointed out during The Return of the King review, there’s other accommodations within the kingdom that’s suited for royalty. Why not head up to that mountain retreat?  

This is a Really Bad Message 

I understand that this is meant to be a joke, because of how ridiculously over the top it is, but because the series gives Rapunzel what she wants in the end without ever having her acknowledge how she is wrong here, it winds up validating her toxic world view anyways.

Divorce is not inherently a bad thing. We should be working towards both normalizing it and promoting healthy coping mechanisms for those that go through it, adult and child alike. What Rapunzel is doing here is just repeating puritanical fearmongering. And while I can understand why she might behave in this way, I don't understand why the show refuses to call her out on it. Or any of the other million bad behaviors she displays repeatedly through out the show... like the example below for instance... 

Why Am I Suppose to Like Rapunzel Again? 

It’s like the writers don’t understand that a joke can damage a character, especially if it’s overplayed. Super sweet upbeat Rapunzel snapping because she finally met someone who was annoying or a situation she couldn’t just solve with a positive attitude was funny maybe like the first time; but we’re three seasons in and this is supposedly her closest loved ones.  

Look at them! They’re fucking terrified of her! All they did was point out that she maybe should do her job and deal with real problems instead of poking her nose into her parents business where it doesn’t belong! And this brat is now the ruler of the whole kingdom!? No one can legally stand up to her. 

Like where’s the Eugene that stood up to her in Under Raps for trying this same bullshit? Why hasn’t she learned her lesson? She also pulled this same bullying tactic on young Lance and teen Eugene two episodes. Cass left her ass, supposedly, because of her bossy thoughtless ways. And this is also the same woman who abused a child back in season one and still has never acknowledged it. 

Yes characters should be flawed, but they should also face real consequences for their actions, and if they’re a protagonist they need to learn and grow past their flaws. 

I actively started to dislike Rapunzel after this scene. I already felt something was off way back in the season three opener, but this is the point where I stopped and went “What the fuck?” She used to be my second favorite character behind Varian. I didn’t go into this wanting to hate her, even after this episode I still held out hope that they were trying to purposefully lead up to some sort of falling out with everyone and with Rapunzel having to own up to her bullshit in order to win. You know like a classic third act “the hero is now alone due to their past mistakes” type story. But Nope! 

There’s no pay off for any of this. Rapunzel is just mean for the sake of being mean in season three, and no one is aloud to call her out on it. She’s now the same type person as Frederic, a tyrant. That’s not a good development! 

She’s Literally Bullying Her Own Parents Now, and I’m Suppose to Find that Funny? 

Yes, Frederic is her abuser, and yes some people might find this scene cathartic if they hate him. But this isn’t actually calling out his past abuse. It’s just Rapunzel treating a now powerless old man with that same abuse and denying him bodily autonomy. An old man who has both less political rights and less power within the relationship than her; since due to his memory loss he is now dependent upon her. 

In the real world it’s the equivalent of picking on an Alzheimer's patient who is in your care. I don’t give a shit how much of dick they were before the illness set in, you don’t fucking do that!  

Why Should I Want Arianna and Frederic To Be a Couple? 

The show has done nothing to sell this relationship. In fact one could argue that the show is trying to purposefully sabotage it. 

Before the memory loss Frederic was proven to be abusive, to the point where even his own wife was afraid of him and wouldn’t stand up to him. Meanwhile Arianna was shown to be a shell of her former self who’d all but given up upon the things she actually enjoyed in life. And now that they both have had a second chance they have even less motive to stay together. 

Look at Arianna up there? She’s clearly not enjoying her time with him. While he doesn’t want to engage in anything that she likes. I mean a couple doesn’t have to share their interests in everything, but there still has to be some sort of connection and the series just does not give us that connection. 

There’s no reason why they should stay together. They no longer have any commitment or duty to fulfill as rulers and their daughter is fully grown. Contrary to what Rapunzel says, the kingdom isn’t going to fall apart if they separate. It actually would probably better for everyone, including Rapunzel, if they got divorced. At least then she’d have to grow up somewhat and stop being a controlling asshat.  

Why is Attila Here?

I thought Attila got a job running his own bakery and that it was Lance who became the new cook at the Snuggly Duckling? Even if you argued that Attila was just doing Rapunzel a solid that still wouldn’t explain who is running the place when Lance isn’t there. 

If you’re going to set up developments like that then you need to either stick with them or give an on screen reason for why these previous developments are no longer relevant. Flat out ignoring them like this is just lazy. 

Lance’s New Outfit is the Best Thing About the Episode, and It’s Also a Complete Waste.

Lance deserved a new outfit because the team was too lazy to give him one for season two, even during the island arc. This however is a waste because it doesn’t add anything to the narrative. People were paid to make this thing for it to only show up for a few seconds of screen time. 

This Whole Exchange Is Gross. 

Oh let me count the ways in which this is so, so stupid. 

Neither Rapunzel nor Frederic has ever proven themselves “thoughtful and responsible.” In fact both of them being irresponsible is intentionally a plot point in the main story arc.

How would either Frederic or Arianna know any of this? Not only have they lost their memories, but they didn’t raise Rapunzel themselves and those traits aren’t inherited; they are taught. 

Gushing over your grown daughter isn’t a point of connection! 

Why would anyone be compelled to kiss a practical stranger, that they previously didn’t even like, just because they both admire some woman they also barely know and happen to be related to? What is the thought process behind this? “Oh we made that? Then lets make another one!” What the fuck show? I’m ace and even I know that’s not a normal thing to get titillated over. 

The Series Turns Frederic Into a Literal Baby In a Last Ditch Effort to Make Him Likable 

The whole point behind the amnesia plot was to absolve Frederic of his past wrong doings. You can’t call out an old man with Alzheimer's for being a dictator, I suppose. (not like that’s ever stopped me from criticizing Ronald Reagan, tho)  But from there the series then takes it one step further and actually infantilizes both Frederic and Arianna, because Chris assumes that if he makes Fredric as pathetic as possible the audience won't hate him any more. Well guess what, it didn’t work. Frederic isn’t suddenly a poor woobie just because he’s useless now. That’s not how that works.  

Rapunzel Literally Physically Assaults a Person, Kidnaps Them, Threatens Them With Even More Bodily Harm, and Causes an International Incident; All Because They Asked Her Mom Out On a Date! 

You can’t hear it in the screen shots, but there’s very clearly a clanging sound to indicate that Rapunzel just wacked Trevor upside the head and knocked him out. 

Let me repeat, a Disney protagonist just committed armed assault against a guy, simply because she doesn’t respect her own mother.

What the Fuck!!!???

Arianna is fully grown woman. She is perfectly capable of making her own choices and she agreed of her own volition to go out with him. In fact she’s the one who asked Trevor if she could come along on his sea voyage. It’s not Rapunzel’s place to interfere with that. 

Secondly, Rapunzel shouldn’t get a free pass to attack people just because she’s doesn’t like them. And she most assuredly shouldn’t get to write off her cruelty as justice because she's royalty! What the hell? You just turned one of your official princesses into a literal tyrant for the sake of a joke, Disney! 

Where the fuck was the oversight on this show!? 

And to top it all off, Trevor is a ruler of a competing kingdom. This could easily have been deemed an act of war. Thankfully for everyone involved Trevor has far more sense and compassion than Rapunzel and doesn’t push the matter. 

Yes that’s right! The intentionally annoying prat and comedic antagonist is a more upstanding person than the main heroine! Let that sink in! 

Wait, If Laws Don’t Apply Out In the Ocean, Then Why Did Eugene and Max Have Jurisdiction to Arrest Lady Caine in Peril on the High Seas? 

Max shoved this same rule book into Eugene’s face when Eugene rightfully questioned if it was his job to arrest the mutineers. This book said that it was not only his job, but that he was also legally required to stop any and all ‘wrongdoing’ no matter where he was at nor whether he was on duty or not. While also failing to specify what ‘wrongdoing’ entailed. 

Now that’s very problematic and ridiculous for a whole host of reasons that I’ve already covered back in my review of Peril on the High Seas, but this scene now adds a whole new layer of stupidity to the mix. 

If zero laws apply out in open waters than yes, Eugene and Max were acting out of their jurisdiction. Not only that, but the pervious dumb rule regarding their duties is also now null and void. So, Justice For Lady Caine! 

Oh, but were not done yet, cause it gets dumber. 

If laws, including marriage don't apply, then getting married while out at sea also would not apply. Thereby rendering Trevor’s plan useless, unless they got married back in Equis. Which if they did that, it would bypass the entire pointless rule book completely because Equis is not subject to Corona’s laws anyways. 

There’s not even any ‘inter-kingdom’ laws that they would be subject too because Equis isn’t a part of the seven kingdoms. Any treaty they did previously have with Corona would be something else entirely, and Trevor would be within his rights to end such an agreement.     

Also Trevor is a king. He can do whatever the fuck he wants. Same goes for Arianna.

Ummm, No You Don’t Rapunzel

Trevor can’t marry Arianna without her agreement to it. It’s already been established that she’s physically capable of taking care of herself and she’s also mature enough to make her own decisions. If she did wind up marrying him it’d be because it’s her fucking choice to and Rapunzel has zero right to interfere with that.  

There’s no one to rescue here. Rapunzel has no reason to go chasing after her mom. All this is doing is denying a grown woman agency over her own life. Why should I or anyone, root for Rapunzel here? 

You Do Know That Arianna Has More Than Just Two Choices Here, Don't Ya Show?

Arianna doesn’t have to be in any relationship. That’s also an option. While I personally like Trevor, this shouldn’t be a choice between him or Frederic. The show should be asking what Arianna, as a character, would want for her life, instead of just shoehorning her into just being a wife for someone else. 

I still don’t know what Arianna really wants in life, but I do know that being a domestic housewife and a queen does not suit her. She doesn’t actually like being tied down with commitments and responsibilities. She’s repeatedly indicated over and over again that she feels uncomfortable in her role. 

But the show reduces her into trophy to win and turns her into a damsel in distress multiple times. Then it further neuters her so that she complacently walks back into that life over and over again for no logical reason. She’s treated not as a person but as a prop.    

Really, Arianna? Are You Really Sure About That? 

These aren’t Arianna’s words. They’re Chris’s. 

Arianna has shown zero interest in Frederic up to this point. The closest they got was during that creepy boat scene where they just jumped to almost kissing for no real reason.  While before now Arianna was making actual goo-goo eyes at Trevor earlier, before Raps stepped in and broke them up.  

They actually do have things in common and had a genuine point of connection. They even almost kissed themselves until Raps started being a dick. No forced and icky conversations about their grown children needed here folks!

While I still firmly believe Arianna should just be single, the show does far more to convince me that she and Trevor should be together more so than her and Frederic. Everything about this scene on the boat feels forced and hollow because it doesn’t ring true to what was previously established. 

This just isn’t good writing. It’s the animation equivalent of a six year old smashing their Barbie dolls faces together and shouting “now kiss!”, all because a middle aged man couldn’t get over they fact people didn’t like his self insert. 

No, wait, I apologize. That’s being mean to six year olds. They usually have more interesting plots and established characterization than this.  

Hey, Remember When the Series Villainized an Orphan For Stealing This Stupid Book? 

Yeah, stealing the book was treason and the mains ruined a child’s life over it, but apparently it just doesn’t matter any more cause no one seems to give a shit about Trevor taking it. Like, yes, as the king of another kingdom, Trevor isn’t beholden to Frederic’s bullshit, but you would think that the characters would treat this as a bigger deal than what they do, given how they responded previously to it being taken.

Unless Rapunzel was just talking out of her ass back during The Alchemist Returns. That’s also quite possible.  

This Literally Has Nothing To Do With You Rapunzel 

Just because Rapunzel herself is a woman, doesn’t mean that stealing the agency of another female character isn’t misogynist. Especially when their both written by primarily men.  

Every guy who was involved with the writing of the episode, should be fucking ashamed of themselves!!! 

So What Exactly Has Trevor Done Wrong Up To This Point? 

Yes, the story board artists and voice actors do a lot of heavy lifting here to try and make Trevor seem like a creep. Arianna’s body language and tone of voice when dealing with him here will be very familiar to a lot of women, I’m sure. I know what it’s like to have a stalker and not know how to turn them down because you’ve been trained all your life to ‘be polite and nice” to people, and I’m not unique in that regard. 

But here’s the thing, it’s not set up properly. There’s nothing backing this sudden shift in the characters’ dynamic. Up till now Trevor has been a perfect gentlemen. Sure he was over the top as always, and you could call it an act when regarding his politeness to Frederic, but he seemed to genuinely respect and admire Arianna and clearly desires genuine affection in return from her. Why would he suddenly stop behaving in a way that worked for him and start talking over her instead? 

Also why wouldn’t Arianna just tell him no to begin with if that’s what she wants? She had no trouble speaking her mind before now. But that begs the question why she wouldn’t return his feelings as well, because as stated above, she clearly showed interest in him previously. 

This is So Fucking Forced

Yeah, okay, you’re daughter has no reason to be here to begin with, disrespected your wishes, and attacked Trevor first. At this point I’d argue he has a right to retaliate. Especially since, if Rapunzel was allowed to board, you know she’d just attack him again, because she knows no other way to resolve conflicts other than to hit people very hard.  

Arianna’s actions here only make sense if she’s kept in the dark about what an awful human being her daughter really is. That’s poor writing. 

Also, having a woman just punch people while denying them actually agency and choice within the plot is not ‘girl power.’ It’s fucking misogyny!

How Does Doing the Bare Minimum, and Just Showing Basic Human Decency Count As ‘True Love’? 

What was she suppose to do? Let him drown? I mean I wouldn’t, and I despise the man. Not to mention anyone else could have done the same thing. They’re all right there. If Lance had jumped to the rescue would Trevor have proclaim them lovers too? 

Trevor Is Still the Better Man Here

Here he is rescuing Rapunzel even after she treated him like shit. 

Best. King. Period. 

This Still Doesn’t Redeem Frederic 

So through out the episode Frederic has inexpiably shown an obsession for eggs. He now collects them even though this was never an established trait before now. But whatever. He’s just been through something traumatic and looking for something to ground himself.  Far be it from me to make fun of someone else’s special interest. If you like to collet eggs than good for you. Go live your life to fullest. 

That’s more respectful than how the show handles it, as everyone dismiss his interest and it’s treated like a joke through out the episode. Only to have said obsession save the day. But this isn’t here to teach the others about respecting other people’s hobbies, oh no, it’s here to try and give Frederic a big hero moment so you’ll cheer for him. 

Except one nice thing does not erase his past actions! I don’t care what your hobby is, if you deliberately try to cause grievous harm to people you’re and asshole! And you will continue to be an asshole until you can admit what you’ve done wrong and try your best to make up for it. 

I Hope You Made Back Up Copies of The Tunnel Maps 

A bunch of people are more upset over this development than I am, because it is a historical artifact and preserving the past is important. But the only story function the book held was a map to the tunnels, and said tunnels were never utilized properly through out the entire show. 

To this day people still don’t understand that they’re meant connect the island to Old Corona or that Herz Der Sonne is the one who built them into order to invade Saporia because the show is so bad at its world building. And come season three, they’re all but irrelevant anyways. Such a wasted concept. 

Once Again the Whole ‘Memory Loss’ Subplot Is a Copout 

Ok that’s not how the spell worked previously, but that’s not what I’m taking issue with here. 

If the whole point behind the amnesia plot twist was to sweep Frederic’s awfulness under the rug, then I expect his past actions to be addressed once he’s regained his memories. They are not. 

This episodes reverses the very thing that the season was trying to achieve and just hopes the audience is too stupid/attention deficient to notice. Well guess what, we noticed and we’re far smarter than you Chris. 

Conclusion

I don’t understand the point of this episode. It shoots everything season three is trying to do in the foot. It screws up the timeline, makes Rapunzel even more of an irredeemable dickhead while preventing her from learning yet another needed lesson, undermines Arianna as a character once again, and it puts Frederic back in the crosshairs of the audience’s scrutiny. 

Oh and look, it’s written by the same guy who wrote Rapunzel’s Return. Why am I not surprised.  

Anyways another one down and only 15 more to go. You can support my continued marathon by dropping a tip in my ko-fi if you wish. I’m currently back to job hunting yet again and anything you can give is appreciated. 

https://ko-fi.com/rachelbethhines

[thesinglesjukebox]

LIL NAS X - OLD TOWN ROAD

[6.73]

We're gonna bluuuurb til we can't no more...

Katie Gill: The problem with "Old Town Road" is that it's more interesting as a thinkpiece than an actual song. The song charting, then being excluded, from the Billboard Country Music charts opens so many questions that can't be answered in one sitting. Is this a further example of the well-documented racism in country music? Or is this just a freak accident hick-hop song that vaulted it's way out of the depths of subgenre hell? Is a twangy voice and references to horses enough to make a song "country"? Does the presence of Billy Ray Cyrus in a remix that dropped on Friday legitimize the song's credentials or just make them worse? Where was all this controversy when "Meant To Be," an honest-to-god pop song, was holding steady on the charts? There are so many questions and so many points of conversation that spring out from this song, that it's a pity "Old Town Road" itself is just okay. Everything about it screams "filler track for the SoundCloud page," from the length to the trap beats to the aggressively mediocre lyrics. The song didn't even chart on it's own merits: it charted because it's used in a TikTok meme! This is like if "We Are Number One" or "No Mercy" made their way to the top of the iTunes charts and people decided to have a conversation about the limits of genre based on those charting. I'm a little annoyed, because the conversation around "Old Town Road" is something that country music should be having... but just not around "Old Town Road." [5]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: There are essays upon essays to be written about "Old Town Road" as a prism for the racial divides that have served as undergirding for the modern American genre system since the 1930s division between "hillbilly" and "race" records. It's the perfect hunk of think-piece fodder: a simple core question -- is it country? -- that can spiral out to all corners of culture until the song itself is obscured. So let's focus on the song, instead. Because beyond all world-historical significance, "Old Town Road" fucking bangs. It's all in the bait and switch of that intro -- banjos and horns plunking away until Lil Nas X's triumphant "YEAAAH" (second this decade only to Fetty Wap) drops and the beat comes in. It's a joke until it's not -- maybe you came in from the Red Dead Redemption 2 video, or from a friend of yours talking about the hilarious country trap song, or from the artist's own Twitter, which is more Meech On Mars than Meek Mill, but no matter the source, you'll find that "Old Town Road" has its way of looping into your brain, all drawls and boasts and banjos. It's meme rap, but much like prior iterations of this joke ("Like a Farmer"), Lil Nas X fully and deeply commits -- he doesn't drop the pretense for a single line, keeping the track short enough to not outlive its welcome while still exploring its weird conceit to its fullest. Yet even in its jokey vibe there's some actual pathos -- no matter how put on, the lonesome cowboy sorrow of Lil Nas X's declaration that he'll "ride till [he] can't no more" feels genuine. "Old Town Road" is everything at once, the implosion of late teens culture into one undeniable moment. [10]

David Moore: So here's a true gem of a novelty song -- a phrase I use with both intention and respect; I grew up in a Dementoid household -- that could launch a thousand thinkpieces about hip-hop, country, class, the object and subject of jokes, whether to call something a joke at all, you name it. But what I keep returning to is the economy of it, its simplicity, how there is so much in so little, the way that someone on the outside can grok things inaccessible to the insiders, maybe by accident or by studious observation and a fresh perspective, the way music can be a multiverse, characters from one world complicating or clarifying or confusing the limits of another in a mutually provocative way. I'm not a backstory guy, which is to say I'm not a research guy, which is to say I'm either intuitive or lazy or both, so I don't have any clue where this came from, but I know magic when I hear it, I know what it sounds like when you discover, or simply stumble into by accident, the path beyond the bounds of territory you presumed exhausted, territory that can always get bigger, always invite whole new parties to the party. It's a real party party; you can get in. [10]

Katherine St Asaph: "Old Town Road" is the "Starships" of 2019: a song that objectively is not great, but will be called great for the understandable reason that liking or disliking it now unavoidably entails choosing the right or wrong side. This tends to lead to hand-waving freakoutery about critics not talking about the music, man, but once The Discourse is out in the world, it becomes a real and critical part of the song's existence; not talking about Billboard punting "Old Town Road" would be like talking about "Not Ready to Make Nice" as an workaday country song. The problem is not quite as simple as "the Billboard charts don't want black artists," an argument with historical precedent but now doomed to fail: clearly, people like Kane Brown and Darius Rucker and Mickey Guyton (who's left off lists like this, somehow) have hits. It's more about respectability politics. Traditionalists hate the idea of memes, social media, and perceived line-cutting, all of which means they'll hate a song born not of the Nashville and former-fraternity-bro scene, but via TikTok and stan Twitter. But what they really, really hate is rap and anything that sounds like a gateway to rap; like if they tolerate this Cardi B will be next. Country radio, for the past decade or two, has been pop radio with all the blatant rap signifiers removed; its songs aren't about cowboys or horses but suburban WASP life. Of course, double standards abound. Talking about lean is out; talking about bingeing beer is fine. "Bull riding and boobies" isn't OK because it's from a guy called Lil Nas X -- I honestly think people would whine less if this exact song was credited to "Montero Hill" -- but "I got a girl, her name's Sheila, she goes batshit on tequila" is OK because it's from a guy called Jake Owen, and "Look What God Gave Her" is OK because it hides its ogling of boobies behind plausibly deniable God talk. Fortunately "Old Town Road" is better than "Starships" -- the NIN sample is inspired, and the hook is evocative and sticky. (It fucks with authenticity politics, too -- Lil Nas X wrote his own song, but the big corporate country artists often don't.) Its main problem is that it's slight: a meme that doesn't overstay past the punchline, a song that never quite gets to song size. [5]

Thomas Inskeep: Sampling Nine Inch Nails' "34 Ghosts IV" to (help) create a western motif is hands-down brilliant, so huge thumbs-up for that. Lyrically, this is pretty empty, a bunch of western clichés strung together -- but then again, the same can be said of plenty of Big & Rich songs. Split the score down the middle, accordingly. [5]

Scott Mildenhall: But surely this is how country music should sound? Lil Nas X has performed alchemy in combining two generic styles into something inspiring, flipping the meaning of "pony and trap" on its head. The mechanical sound of trap is rusted into the mechanical sound of fixing a combine, or at least pretending that is something you might do, and such performance is fun for all the family. Well, unless you're an American farming family tired of stereotypes anyway. [7]

Stephen Eisermann: Non country (trap) beat with subtle country instrumentation? Sounds like much of country radio, only way better! [7]

Nortey Dowuona: A burning, humming bass girds under sticklike banjos as Lil Nas X rides into town to water his horse and head back out onto the open road. [5]

Alex Clifton: I spent the weekend re-enacting this scene from Easy A with this song, so it's safe to say I like it. I especially love the "horse"/"Porsche" line, which is unexpected and amazing. [7]

Alfred Soto: The usual genre conversations threaten to smother analysis. If Lil Nas X can use trap drums, then why can't Sam Hunt use loops? Silly. (Chief Justice Charles Evans Hughes: "The Constitution is what the judges say it is"). The Kanye allusion ("Y'all can't tell me nuthin'") works extra-diagetically. An assemblage of modest, discrete charms held together by a solid performance at its center -- nothing more. I await the Future-Frank Liddell collab. [5]

Edward Okulicz: It's affectionate and actually quite deferential in its treatment of its parent genres. Crossovers like this have been hinted at, and gestured towards in the other direction quite a bit of late (country artists affecting hip-hop, less so the latter), and the two genres have more in common than the caricatures of the sorts of people who are supposed to listen to them do. Of course, I mean those genres as they exist today, and not in the warped imaginations of purists. You can see why kids have latched on, and it's easy to snarl at Big Chart for sticking their oar in. The kids are right; artists control the means of production and radio and chart compilers can accept that they aren't the tastemakers, and attempts to force their tastes down other people's throats will lead to a backlash. This is not a brilliant song but it's a picture of one of many potential musical futures and, at two minutes, the perfect length too. The right response is to smile, and "Old Town Road" makes it easy to smile -- it's an earworm. Sure, it doesn't give me the same immediate feeling of fuck!!! this is the best that I got when I first heard that version of Bubba Sparxxx's "Comin' Round" but country music survived "Honey, I'm Good" and it will survive this. It might well thrive. [6]

Joshua Copperman: I recently found out that I have a moderate Vitamin D deficiency, but looking up the song everyone was talking about and hearing this basically confirmed that I should go outside more often. There are definitely things to talk about: it's the logical conclusion to "I listen to everything except country and rap" jokes when the inverse has taken over the Hot 100, and it's a song that's set to hit number one because everyone is incredulous that it exists at all -- with a Billy Ray Cyrus remix to boot. The conversations about what makes a song "country" are all fascinating, but it's hard to fully enjoy pieces about something that, as an actual song, is so fundamentally empty. The Nine Inch Nails sample is interesting, but like everything else, more intriguing in theory than execution. This will wind up on every site's "best of 2019" lists, and then in ten years people will snark on how a song with "My life is a movie/Bullridin' and boobies" was so critically acclaimed. As a meme/discourse lightning rod, it's an [8], as a how-to guide for late-2010s fame, it's a [10], but there's little appeal in a vacuum. Adding a bonus point, because music has never existed in a vacuum anyway. [5]

Taylor Alatorre: Remember when the internet was still described as a realm of lawless and limitless potential, when open source could be touted as revolutionary praxis and "free flow of information" was a sacred utterance? Now one of the key political questions is whether private companies should be doing more to banish online rulebreakers or whether the federal government should step in to delimit what those rules are. Whichever side ends up winning, it's clear that the wide open spaces of the Frontier Internet are rapidly facing enclosure. Montero Hill learned this the hard way when his @nasmaraj account was suspended by Twitter as part of its crackdown against spam-based virality. While Tweetdeckers are nobody's martyrs, it's a minor tragedy every time an account with that many followers and that much influence gets shunted off to the broken-link stacks of the Wayback Machine. Rules must be laid down, but their enforcement always entails loss -- the bittersweet triumph of civilization over nature that forms the backbone of every classic Western. Maybe Hill/nasmaraj/Lil Nas X had this loss in mind when writing the jauntily defiant lyrics of "Old Town Road." Maybe he was just riding the microtrends of the moment like he was before. Still, this particular microtrend -- the reappropriation of cowboy imagery by non-white Americans -- feels too weighty to be reduced to mere aesthetics. Turner's Frontier Thesis may have been racially blinkered to the extreme, but the myths and yearnings it spawned can never die; they just get democratized. So it makes sense that young Americans, even those who don't know who John Wayne is, would subconsciously reach out for the rural, the rustic, the rugged and free, just as we feel the global frontiers closing all around us. Our foreign policy elites hold endless panel talks about "maintaining power projection" and "winning the AI race," but most normal people don't care about that stuff. We're all secretly waiting for China to take over like in our cyberpunk stories, so we can drop all the pressures of being the Indispensable Nation and just feast off our legacy like post-imperial Britain. And what is that legacy? It's rock, it's country, it's hip hop, it's "Wrangler on my booty," it's all the vulgar mongrelisms that force our post-ironic white nationalists to adopt Old Europe as their lodestar. In short, it's "Old Town Road." We're gonna ride this horse 'til we can't no more, we're gonna reify these myths 'til we can't no more, because when the empire is gone, the myths are all we have. (Oh, and the Billy Ray remix is a [10]. Obviously.) [9]

Jonathan Bradley: People suppose that genre exists to delineate a set of sounds, and while it does do that, it depends even more on its ability to build, define, and speak for communities. The question of whether "Old Town Road" is a country song or not is in some ways easily resolved: country music showed no interest in Lil Nas X -- or at least not until Billy Ray Cyrus noticed an opportune moment to complicate expectations and grab headlines -- and so Lil Nas X's song was not country. Even taking into account its sound and subject matter, his hit is best understood as a burlesque on country music, one that parodies and exaggerates the genre's motifs and themes for heightened effect. The kids on TikTok, who turned the long-gone lonesome blues of the song's tumbleweed hook into viral content, understand this intuitively: they use the incongruity that clarifies at the beat drop as an opportunity to engage in caricature and costume. And while Lil Nas X, a huckster and a trendspotter before he was a pop star, has been happy to embrace the yee-haw mantle that has been bestowed upon him, his song is a familiar rap exercise in play and extended metaphor. The Shop Boyz did much the same thing with "Party Like a Rock Star" and it would be obtuse to suppose that was a rock song. And yet, as the country historian Bill C. Malone has written, country since its inception has attracted fans "because of its presumed Southern traits, whether romantically or negatively expressed"; there has always been a bit of schtick to this sound. I wondered when we reviewed Trixie Mattel whether country is, on some level, intrinsically camp, and it's tough to declare definitively that Lil Nas X's bold hick strokes are that much more stylized than Jake Owen's performance of small town ordinariness. And just as a country music based on cohesive community rather than sound has found itself broad enough to encompass northern hair metal, Auto-Tuned club stomps, and Ludacris, the gate-keeping involved in keeping Lil Nas X out begins to look suspicious. After all, the first song to debut on Billboard's Most Played Juke Box Folk Records chart, the predecessor to today's Hot Country Songs, was "Pistol Packin' Mama," a hillbilly goof by the decidedly uncountry combination of Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters. As Malone has written, "While the commercial fraternity thought mainly of profits, the recording men, radio executives, publicists, promoters, ad men, sponsors, and booking agents who dealt with folk music also readily manipulated public perceptions in order to sell their products." One of the ways they did that was to tap into already mythological figures of American individualism like the cowboy, who is, after all, a creature of the west and not the South. "The respective visions of cowboy and western life drew far more from popular culture and myth ... than they did from reality," Malone writes of the early country singers who embraced cowboy personae; in some ways Lil Nas X's purloining of meme interest in that same culture places him within a rich country heritage. After all, when in popular entertainment has shameless self-promotion not been part of the aspirant's trade? It does matter how cultural communities react to the music made in their name, but when certain people are adjudicated not fit for club membership, it is worth asking why. Country's culture, I said recently, is "one that's implicitly but not definitely Southern, implicitly but not definitely rural, and implicitly but not definitely white," and it's easy to see how Lil Nas X doesn't fit into that. Country music's racism isn't unique to the genre -- the historical hegemonies of punk and indie rock are at least as determinedly white -- but it is particularly visible. Country is racist like the South is racist like America is racist. Lil Nas X disrupts that settlement, helping us imagine a country music that genuinely encompasses the music of the American South -- a genre that has space for "This is How We Roll" and Miranda Lambert, Lil Boosie and Young Thug, "Formation" and Juvenile, and perhaps even Norteño and banda sounds. That would be, however, not only a far different country music to what we know today, but the music of a far different America. [7]

Iris Xie: Yeet haw! Aside from the great pleasure I've had in showing this to my friends, (Me, two weeks ago: "Have you heard this country trap song???" My friends, this week: "Iris, that song you're talking about now has Billy Ray Cyrus on it??") and either slinging back and forth memey references, engaging in discussions on the state of white supremacy in the music industry while also debating about the song's merit, or hearing my friends start singing "can't nobody tell me nothing..." very quietly at any moment and I can't help but join in -- it's all been very fun. Aside from making plans to play "Old Town Road" on my next country road drive to Costco, something that's occurred to me is that this is a song boosted by the status and calamity of its metanarrative. We could always use more discussions of the double standards that Black and POC artists face in the industry when it comes to genres and participating in it, and I'm honestly glad Lil Nas X just made something that was fun and made sense to him, even if "Old Town Road" doesn't stray too much from the conventions of both trap and country, resulting in a well-balanced mashup that sounds more safe than surprising to me, but is serene in its confidence nevertheless. On the flipside of that genre-mashing, Miley wishes and is probably very jealous of her father now for hopping onto this train, lest we forget about all of her cultural appropriation attempts. But for the song itself, those long, relaxed drawls and the imagery of riding a horse to the trap beat -- why not? We live in weird times now, Black people's contributions to country music were erased, and it's kind of a relaxing song. Also, I'm a fan of the "Can't nobody tell me nothing" lyric, which has become an unintentionally defiant line in the face of all the backlash, resulting in a message to rally around. Now excuse me, as I text my friends that "I'm gonna take my horse down to the old town road." [8]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[feliicityrampant]

here’s the first part of a mchanzo fantasy/witch au. it’s ~2800 words. i have a lot of ideas about it so i hope i finish it. it’s not edited much tho. consider it an interest inquiry?

(untitled as of now)

“Do you believe in true love?” Old Mina says, her stout figure blocking out the sun.

Jesse is ten years old, crouched in the bed of her garden with dirt trapped deep under his finger nails. Everyone in the village says Old Mina is a nasty hag who can’t be trusted. Jesse doesn’t understand why he’s being punished this way, why he’s been sent up to weed her garden over a little fist fight.

The adults don’t think the kids in the village hear the stuff they say about Old Mina. They think they’re all scared of her just because she’s mean. But Jesse’s not stupid and neither are the others and they all know. Old Mina is powerful. She’s the strongest witch in the valley, even stronger than the coven leader. Worse than that, though, she’s selfish, and she likes to play games. Nobody wants to be unlucky enough to catch her attention.

So Jesse squints up at Old Mina, her features barely visible when she’s back-lit so heavily by the lowering sun, and he does his best to squash the urge to run. He’s not a coward. And, even if he was, he wouldn’t want her smelling his fear.

“Of course I don’t,” Jesse says mulishly. “That’s girl stuff.” He reaches up and pulls his hat snugger on his head, seeking comfort in the familiar feel of the rough leather.

Old Mina laughs. “Let me see that hand of yours, boy,” she says, and snatches it quick as lightning off the brim of his hat.

She hunches even further, her long nails digging into his palm as she examines it roughly. Jesse is thankful he’s been out working in the sun for the last hour. It’s a convenient excuse for the sweat gathering under her critical gaze. He doesn’t dare move, even to wipe his brow or ease his aching knees.

“You should believe in true love,” Old Mina concludes after what seems like forever. She drops his hand and smiles nastily down at him. “Yours is going to kill you.”

Jesse goes home trembling that evening. When his mother asks him what’s wrong he just shakes his head and goes to bed without dinner. He sleeps fitfully that night and his dreams are disturbed.

It’s a long time before Jesse works up the nerve to talk to Old Mina, not just about what she said, but about other things as well. He’s twelve when he’s brave enough and really has the desire. But by that time, he’s been banished, exiled from the valley, and it’s already too late.

--

Jesse has stopped for a drink in a small nothing of a town out in the foothills of the Black Tip Mountains when he hears about the Shimada.

The mountains are half a day’s journey south and the nearest town on the other side is another day’s journey from the highest part of the pass. It’d be easier and faster with a horse or a mule, but beasts don’t like him much. So he’s having a drink and contemplating his options, staring out through the bar windows at the peaks, dark like ink stains against the blue afternoon sky. He’ll stay in town the night, he thinks, and take off in the morning. Make it through the worst of the trip tomorrow and camp out at the bottom of the pass on the other side. The weather’s been good so far, but at this time of April it’s hard to know what’s coming unless you’ve Seen it.

“…heard about Paulina,” Jesse overhears, mostly by mistake. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“We weren’t very close, but I appreciate it,” another voice says. “I’m just glad we found her in the end. It would’ve been worse for my aunt and uncle, the not knowing.”

“She went missing up on the pass, right?” the first voice asks. “That’s difficult terrain to search. How was she found, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Jesse slides his eyes away from the window and tracks the conversation to its source – two middle aged men at a table in the corner. Their hands are calloused and their clothes are rough. His best guess is that they work at one of the mills along the river. Lumber is the town’s primary economy.

“One of the Shimada found her,” one of them is saying. “Seems like there was a block on the pass and she tried to bushwhack around it. She got lost off the path and there was a mudslide. It carried her halfway down the Prince, into the shadow of the King.”

The three mountains that make up the Black Tips are the Black Prince, the Black King, and the Black Queen. The Prince is the smallest and the only one safe enough to traverse for most of the year. But there’s always bad luck. The man’s companion hums, sympathetic.

“Still,” Paulina’s cousin continues, “the Shimada said she didn’t suffer much. She probably died within the first few moments of the mudslide.” He pauses to take a drink. “He didn’t charge. It was good of him.”

Jesse turns back to his own drink. He should probably reevaluate his plans to cross the pass, anyway, if there’s been mudslides and blocked roads. Normally that would annoy him, but it seems like there are things of interest out here in the middle of nowhere after all. He catches the attention of the bartender who’s wiping down the counter not far from Jesse and motions him over.

“The Shimada,” he says, “they a coven?”

“A coven?” the bartender repeats. “Not really. There’s only the two of them and they don’t have ancestral roots. They’re witches though, and they Keep like a coven does.”

“Hm,” Jesse says, and scratches at his stubble.

Covens are land-bound. It’s important for them to stay as families, tied to the earth where they’ve spilled ritual blood for generations. It’s part of why Jesse’s banishment hurt so much. He’s heard here and there of covens who weren’t land-bound – even been part of one for a short time – but they tend to be migratory, binding to other things, like rivers, or otherwise just going where and doing as they please. It’s weird to hear of one without ancestral roots doing something like Keeping.

Covens that live in or near towns and villages have a bond with the people who live there because those people in turn have a bond with the land. They Keep them, do magic for them, heal their sick and tend their crops, usually in exchange for payment of some kind. Jesse’s coven had been modest and the village it Kept even more so. They worked for food and livestock for the most part. But there were covens in cities and mining towns who were wealthy beyond description.

“Where can I find them?” Jesse asks.

The bartender eyes him a little doubtfully but nods his head toward the river. “Upstream about ten miles or so,” he says. “They have a place right on the river. It’s probably not worth your time, though. Plenty of folks like you have come through here in the past looking for them but they turn ‘em all away. Don’t like big magic, or so I’ve heard.”

Folks like me? Jesse thinks. Big magic?

“Well I won’t bother them none,” Jesse says with a smile, the kind that makes most people trust him, never mind his rough appearances. “I’m just curious, ‘sall.”

Unless they’re as good at tracking as that little conversation has led him to believe. But he keeps that thought to himself.

Jesse cracks his back as he stands and grabs his hat off the counter. He places it on his head, tips it gratefully to the bartender, and leaves a bit more than he owes next to his empty glass.

--

The Shimada residence is certainly upstream about ten miles or so, emphasis on the “or so”, but there’s no clear path and the forest grows thicker and thicker the further from town he gets. He tries to imagine the townspeople making this trip for anything less than a dire emergency but finds it difficult. (Then again, it sounds like they make a habit of crossing the pass, so maybe they’re hardier than they seem.) By the time Jesse emerges out of the woods into the clearing where the small house sits, the sun is getting low and the golden light of dusk is spilling through the trees in intervals, like shards of warm glass.

The building itself is sturdy and old fashioned, with a woven grass roof and dark cedar paneled walls. The whole building is raised slightly, surrounded by an open porch, and the door – made of paper and that same cedar – appears to slide open. Jesse steps up onto the porch and puzzles at the door slightly before deciding to rap lightly on the wood frame. The door jostles a little but the sound isn’t very loud.

When no response comes, Jesse carefully slides his head into the entrance hall. “Excuse me,” he calls. “Is anyone home?”

For a moment, there’s nothing, and then a door slides open down the hall and a man steps out. He’s tall and dark skinned, with no hair and a series of nine dots on his forehead. He’s wearing a yukata and it’s only because the sleeves are rolled and tied up past his elbows that Jesse can tell that he’s not a human at all. There, barely noticeable, are the thin seams along the joints that indicate that this is a construct.

Jesse blinks, caught off guard. It’s been a long time since he’s seen an animated construct in working condition, let alone one in the shape of a human. They’re difficult to make and almost universally disliked. It’s off putting to see one, especially out here, and especially with folks who claim not to like “big magic.”

“Hello,” the construct says. “Forgive me for not coming sooner – we just sat down to dinner.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to intrude,” Jesse says, eyeing the construct a bit at his phrasing. Constructs can’t eat. “I can come back another time.”

“Ah,” the construct says. “That won’t be necessary. Have you eaten? There’s plenty of food.”

“That’s mighty kind of you,” Jesse grins, not bothering to try to conceal his growling stomach. “Food sounds great. You folks are hard to find.”

He kicks off his shoes in the concrete entrance hall and steps up onto the straw mats of the main hallway. He feels a bit self-conscious – his socks have holes in them and he’s been travelling in them for a long time. They’re probably not much of a step up from his shoes.

The construct leads him back down the hallway to the open doorway and gestures for Jesse to enter. It’s a large, airy room, with more sliding doors that have been pushed open to reveal the porch and, beyond it, the river, which it seems like the house juts out over by a little bit. In the center of the room is a low table surrounded by cushions. Two men are sitting there, eating what looks like a hot pot of some kind.

The man on the left is lounging back, looking at Jesse with open curiosity. He has bright green hair and an open expression – though Jesse knows better than most that looks can be deceiving. He’s wearing a yukata nearly as blindingly bright as his hair, blue and covered in green foliage, hanging open at the chest and thighs probably a bit further than propriety dictates, though Jesse doesn’t have enough familiarity with the garment to say one way or the other. His only point of comparison is the construct and the man on the right.

The man on the right is distinctly more subdued. He sits upright with his legs crossed and a look of displeasure on his face. His black hair is held up in a tight ponytail and his dark yukata is immaculate. Only one thing sets him apart as extraordinary – two coils of bright blue that encircled his neck.

At first Jesse thinks they’re tattoos of some kind, but then they begin to shift, slithering silently across the man’s skin with a kind of languid grace. Two heads appear out of the man’s yukata and begin hissing quietly in his ear. Snakes, Jesse realizes. Familiars, by the looks of them. The man glances at them for a moment, and then back at Jesse. His expression of displeasure does not change.

Although Jesse had eagerly followed the construct at the promise of food, he now again feels as though he’s intruding, and can’t bring himself to sit down at the small table and join what is clearly a modest family dinner. He instead removes his hat and presses it over his heart.

“My apologies for coming at such a late hour,” he says. “Jesse McCree, at your service.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the man on the left says with a grin. “Visitors are always welcome when there’s nothing happening. I can’t even eat when I’m bored.”

The man on the right snorts in an inelegant way apropos to his appearances and the construct hums as though it wants to voice an opinion. Which is impossible. Constructs don’t have opinions.

“I’m Genji,” the man on the left continues, ignoring them. “This is my brother Hanzo. And this is Zenyatta.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, McCree,” the construct, Zenyatta, says.

“Jesse’s fine,” Jesse says. “And the pleasure is mine.”

“Sit down, sit down,” Genji says, patting a free cushion. “Where are you from, Jesse?”

“Uh, here and there,” Jesse says, sinking down onto the cushion as directed. His knees and back ache a bit at sitting on the floor like this. He doesn’t see how the two men who look to be about his age can manage it so casually. Particularly Hanzo, who has a distinguished swath of grey behind his ears. “I’m more interested in y’all, if I’m being honest. Haven’t heard of a coven Keeping without ancestral roots before.”

“That’s none of your business,” Hanzo says peevishly. He sets down his bowl and chopsticks with a click and focuses a glare on Jesse. “If you intend to interrupt our supper, Mr. McCree, you could at least do us the favor of being forthright. What do you want?”

Jesse definitely feels like he can’t eat now, no matter how hungry he is, but the construct – Zenyatta, he reminds himself – has already knelt across from him and is passing him a bowl filled with broth and noodles and mushrooms and beef.

“Don’t be such a buzzkill, Hanzo,” Genji whines. “Can’t you see something interesting when it’s sitting in front of you? How’d you lose your eye, Jesse?”

Jesse reaches up to touch his eyepatch, startled at having it so directly called out. He’s saved the discomfort of having to answer, however.

“Genji,” Zenyatta admonishes in a sharp tone.

“Oops,” Genji says, looking cowed. “Sorry. But it is interesting.”

“Nothing good ever came of interesting,” Hanzo says. “Mr. McCree, please don’t waste my time.”

“It’s just Jesse, if you don’t mind,” Jesse says, although it’s painfully clear that Hanzo does, in fact, mind. “But I heard in town that y’all were good at finding people and I was hoping you could help me track down a comrade of mine.”

“Is she pretty?” Genji asks.

Jesse laughs. “He’s, uh, old, and kind of scruffy, and…doesn’t really want to be found. I’ve been looking for him for about a year now. Heard he might be down near the coast but that’s all I know and it’s just a rumor.”

“That’s far,” Genji says, but his eyes slide over to Hanzo almost at once.

Hanzo can do it, Jesse thinks with a jolt of sudden hope. It’s just a matter of whether or not he wants to.

“I really would appreciate any kind of help y’all can give me,” Jesse appeals. “He’s something like a father to me, y’see, and he’s not exactly. He’s sick. He needs me and he won’t admit it.”

Hanzo sighs and looks out at the river. One of his snakes raises its head and begins hissing again.

“What’s his name?” Hanzo asks.

“Gabriel Reyes.”

If the name means anything to them, they don’t show it.

Hanzo considers a little more. The snakes hiss a little more. It’s eerie. Jesse wishes he could understand what they’re saying.

“What will you pay me?” Hanzo asks.

“Well I don’t have much…”

“That much is obvious.”

“…but we can do an exchange, if you like,” Jesse finishes, unperturbed. “I’m no good at scrying or anything, but I’m a witch in my own right.”

“Oh?” Genji says, leaning forward. “What can you do?”

Jesse eyes them warily and drums his fingers nervously against his thigh. He can feel Hanzo’s eyes burning into the side of his face. He clears his throat.

“I can talk to the dead.”