#Ghosts of My life

[absurdlakefront]

Rather than the old recoiling from the ‘new’ in fear and incomprehension, those whose expectations were formed in an earlier era are more likely to be startled by the sheer persistence of recognisable forms. Nowhere is this clearer than in popular music culture. It was through the mutations of popular music that many of those of us who grew up in the 1960s, 70s and 80s learned to measure the passage of cultural time. But faced with 21st-century music, it is the very sense of future shock which has disappeared.

This is quickly established by performing a simple thought experiment. Imagine any record released in the past couple of years being beamed back in time to, say, 1995 and played on the radio. It’s hard to think that it will produce any jolt in the listeners. On the contrary, what would be likely to shock our 1995 audience would be the very recognisability of the sounds: would music really have changed so little in the next 17 years? Contrast this with the rapid turnover of styles between the 1960s and the 90s: play a jungle record from 1993 to someone in 1989 and it would have sounded like something so new that it would have challenged them to rethink what music was, or could be

"The slow cancelation of the future has been accompanied by a deflation of expectations."

The shock today isn't how much has changed--it's how little.

[venenoparatres]

FANTASMAS EN LA DISCOTHEQUE, PT. 1

En el disco “Dime precioso” de Álex Anwandter una pista de baile se abre, una bola de disco baja del techo, el estéreo suena a todo dar, pero algo falla, una cinta suena desperfecta, la conexión eléctrica falla. La música que ambienta la fiesta ochentera tiene la cinta gastada de tanto tocar el cassette. Es una fiesta espectral, no pasada, no futura, tan presente como el instante que existe y se va inmediatamente, como el segundo que acaba de pasar. La voz que abre “Perdido” es la de un fantasma que tiñe de negro las luces de neón de la disco, y su letra, amenaza con caer en la oscuridad para siempre, arruinando la fiesta para siempre. La voz oscurecida y la distorsión del sonido perturban ese sonido ochentero pulcro que ha dominado las listas de éxito anglo contemporáneas.

En “París, tal vez”, Álex busca a un amante que se fue, lo evoca, no tiene idea de su paradero, como el momento parece perdido en el tiempo. Un fantasma de lujuria que traspasa y se confunde con el instrumental, inubicable, inrastreable. Existe algo siniestro en esta recapitulación del pasado, en esas postales retro que parecen darles la razón a los fetichistas de la nostalgia; pero ¿cómo puede alguien que no vivió la época, advertir sobre los peligros de remontarse ciegamente a los momentos muertos? Hay un efecto específico de ralentización al final de “Tu nueva obsesión” y al principio de “QTDE” que captura esta idea perfectamente: el momento se siente glitcheado, perturbado, y, sin embargo, bailamos y cantamos.

Su disco anterior “El diablo en el cuerpo” conjura una fantasía similar, un synthpop ochentero con más refinaciones técnicas que su sucesor, un sentido del ritmo más fijo y controlado. Pero los espectros ya están presentes: en “Pueblo fantasma” Álex evoca el vacío emocional del rechazo por el círculo familiar, un desierto antes florido por amor. Pero el pueblo fantasma es también el tiempo en que ocurrió esta revolución musical y cultural, la pista de baile a la que entramos es un eco, una repetición de las que cuatro décadas atrás poblaban las ciudades. El futuro de una vida juntos, tan imaginable como invisible, no-presente, impenetrable, atrapado entre la desesperanza y el optimismo, y en un punto medio, el letargo, la depresión.

Temáticamente, Álex también abandona las postales brillantes ochenteras a su propia manera; en “No me molesta”, el brillo del éxito o la cúspide es rechazado, lo importante es la diversión y lo auténtico. El deseo por lo humano es el foco, “Ave del campo” y “Gaucho”, emociones exaltadas y genuina pasión. Pero también los fantasmas del pasado tienen sentimientos humanos, susurran o gritan por comprensión, amor, entendimiento. Las fotos en que están atrapados pueden ser contestadas desde el futuro, evocar imágenes y transportarse a los sonidos de entonces para completar el ritual, romper la maldición y arreglar los errores de la línea temporal.

[gbhbl]

Album Review: Helevorn - Espectres (Meuse Music Records)

Balearic atmospheric doom metal, Helevorn, will release their 5th full length album titled Espectres on the 13th of September via Meuse Music Records. It’s been 5 years five years since Helevorn release their acclaimed album, Aamamata. An album that received rave reviews from fans and critics alike for it’s heavily atmospheric gloom and it’s elegant and classy delivery. Helevorn originally formed…

[ghosted-jazz]

I hope they got that microwave in the break room

Bonus version with different outfit colours:

[hansoeii]

Ghosts! 👻

[handsometimr]

mr shu takumi i have the funniest idea

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

We all know the semi-canonical ‘all the Robins know to hide/duck inside of Batman’s cape, even as adults’ thing.

We also know that Danny ‘is LITERALLY a ghost’ Fenton sucks at remembering his own intangibility while ALSO forgetting to look ahead of him.

All I’m saying is, Danny Fenton (or Phantom, if you’d really like) would absolutely SLAM into Batman on accident while running on roof tops and Bruce ‘Brooding Instinct’ Wayne doesn’t even think twice about letting the kid hide and scanning around for danger before there’s a record scratch of ‘wait who tf is this?’ kicks in.

[happyheidi]

don’t invite me unless these are the plans

[datcravat]

It seems there's a new lawyer in town!!!

[aftg4rd]

🧼: “D’ya think I cuid take my gear off first, Si?”

💀: “Negative.”

[captainadwen]

Damian Wayne vs the World

Sixteen year old Damian Wayne is on the hunt for a younger sibling. Being more discerning than Bruce 'child collector' Wayne, Damian's firm criteria for Batman's latest adoption problem includes but is not limited to: black haired, blue-eyed, tolerable humor, not evil, and most importantly - younger than Damian.

Lucky for him, fourteen year old newbie vigilante Danny Fenton is the perfect fit. Now, to fulfill his end of their deal, Damian must defeat the evil government organization hunting Danny in order to gain a baby brother.

Or, @livinghalfway your post made my brain go !! but in such a different way I figured it was better to make a separate post, hope you don't mind/enjoy still

~~

Damian Wayne re-entered Tim Drake's life like a gnat revealing itself in a closed bedroom space. Tim was in t-shirt and a boxers, maneuvering ramen into his mouth with one hand and scribbling out an epiphany on a murder case with another, when Damian's demonic dulcet voice echoed down from the ceiling. "Drake," said Damian, judgemental, "You live like this?"

Tim nearly choked on his ramen, because the day Damian doesn't attempt to murder him - however doubtfully accidental this incident might be - is the day Darkseid decides to be friends with the Justice League. "Fucking knock," Tim coughed out. "And get out. No one invited you in."

"Put better traps if you don't want me here," said Damian, dropping from the ceiling where he'd crawled in on wall-clamps.

"This is my apartment," said Tim. "It's called courtesy."

Damian sniffed. He padded around to Tim's desk and frowns at his cases, then said, with no further lead up, "I need your assistance."

"No," said Tim.

"You did not even listen to my request."

"Don't need to," said Tim. "Answer's still no. Door is that way. Bye."

"Father says mutually assisting each other is beneficial," said Damian.

"Father," said Tim sarcastically, "blamed me for you exploding a glitter bomb in the batcave two weeks ago."

"That is your fault for not being able to provide evidence to the contrary in an appropriately efficient manner," said Damian. He squinted down at Tim. "And he apologized. Eventually."

"I would not have glittered the batcomputer," said Tim. "Do you know how much of a pain in the ass it is to backup those servers? No, because you don't like tech work, you just profit off it."

"Blaming me for Father's mistake," said Damian, "Most mature of you. But we must put our differences aside. I have selected a new family member and I need you to dismantle a government organization."

That drew Tim up short. He blinked down at his ramen as though it might explain Damian's words to him, but the ramen remained disappointingly uninformative. "Repeat that," said Tim, gesturing with his chopsticks. "Slower, and with more detail."

Damian pulled out his phone and sent him an email. Silence surrounded them in the brief moment it took Tim to set aside his chopsticks and open the email. The subject line was titled 'New Baby Brother', which birthed all sorts of horrifying nightmares of Damian Part 2: Demon Child Boogaloo. The teen in the inserted picture, however, was reassuringly not in possession of Damian's bone structure.

He did have black hair and blue eyes. "Who am I looking at?" asked Tim.

"Daniel Fenton," said Damian. "He is fourteen years old, enjoys puns, and has recently awakened 'ghost powers' that allow him to transform into the vigilante Phantom to fight other ghosts."

"Is he also an orphan with a tragic backstory?"

"No," said Damian, and Tim relaxed. "But that will not be an issue. We can share custody if they cannot be removed from the picture."

"Jesus H, kid."

"I am joking, of course," said Damian blandly. "Murder is wrong."

"Ha ha," said Tim. "If he has parents already he's not joining our menagerie."

"He will," said Damian, with a smug upwards tilt of his lips. "He and I have a deal."

"So you're coercing him in addition to stalking him. Anything else you want to share with the class?"

Damian considered this query with a serious frown, which was how Tim knew this was not a flight of fancy or a very early midlife crisis (although with their lifestyle and Damian already having died before...).

"He has," said Damian after a moment, "a rogue that calls himself 'The Master of all Technology' and is a technopath." This was clearly meant to be of interest to Tim, and not to be a stereotype, but it kind of was.

"Great." Tim turned his attention back to the email the demon child sent him. He scanned through it quickly. There was apparently a secret and evil government organization dedicated to the investigation and extermination of 'ghosts' and other paranormal creatures in the world. Their latest efforts were focused on the town of Amity Park, Illinois, which was 'infested with ectoplasmic pests'. Their words, not Damian's. (It was specified in the email.)

"Okay," Tim drummed his fingers against his desk. "Before I help you defeat this secret evil government organization so that," he opened the email attachment with a contract on it and squinted at the legalese, "this poor newbie teen you've harassed into signing this joins the family in exchange."

"I did not harass him," Damian huffed. "It was a gentleman's agreement."

"Does he know that?"

"I am not a politician, Drake. I thoroughly explained the terms and legalities before presenting any contract. Now ask your question."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because," said Damian, tone implying 'you are stupid and haven't noticed something obvious, idiot'. "Father has begun saying he misses the noise around the manor and looking wistfully at old pictures."

"We still live there though?" said Tim. Damian looked flatly at him. "Sometimes."

"If you lived there frequently enough," said Damian, "you would already know Father is having...empty nest syndrome." Damian sounded disgusted. "I refuse to tolerate whatever inadequate and incompetent child he will find."

"So instead you found an incompetent and inadequate child for him?"

"Don't be stupid, Drake," said Damian. "I would not have chosen someone inadequate. Daniel is merely lacking formal training. Father can rectify this. It will keep him occupied for at least the next two to four years, which gives me enough time to find another black-haired, blue-eyed, tolerable child I approve of to be his successor and my second younger sibling." Damian paused. "Or until one of you procreates and gives him a grandchild."

"You're really serious about this," Tim whispered in horrified awe.

"I am serious about everything I do," said Damian. "Now, you will help me defeat this evil government organization so that our new sibling joins us."

"Okay," said Tim, but his mind snagged on a minor, throwaway detail, so utterly in odds with Damian 'Demonic Jealous Child' Al Ghul it surely came from another person - "Did you just call this kid your successor?"

[bricreative]

I’m the ghost in the back of your head

(WIP)

[reds-skull]

My mom named one of the street cats she feeds Tommy, so I thought to myself, "what if..."

[lilybug-02]

What's everyone yappin' about? (Small Update: Only 3 pages a week from now on!)

Bug Fact: Chitin is the key structural component of all arthropod exoskeletons. It can be as flexible as a wing or as hard as a clam shell.

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[potato-lord-but-not]

some incredibly stupid holy ghosts memes in honor of this comment from my last holy ghosts art. we got him boys

[gothghostiie]

something babysitter!reader waiting for price to drive them home while he's on video call with one of his friends, the little one in his lap, tapping around on the screen; until it somehow does something to make the screen go weird. he chuckles and shows you, inevitably holding the camera right onto you for a moment and showing you before turning it back on him. all you hear from the phone now is a curious hum. "who's the lil' tulip on the couch?"