#I wrote an article about him for work about 10 years ago

[nostarfights]

Chapter One of Made Your Mark

Pairing: sugardaddy!rockstar!Eddie Munson X fem!reader

Summary: You and Eddie meet on the sugar daddy site recommended to you by Steve.

Word Count: 2.3K

Fic Masterlist

As of today, it had been six months since you graduated from your university. Six months since your graduation where you were spoken to about new opportunities and where life can take you. Six months of companies not moving forward with you for the job you spent four years of your life getting your degree for. You’d spent four years trying to become an author and still no one wanted to publish your book. Six months of working at some fancy restaurant near your apartment that barely paid you enough to get by in life.

To say you were frustrated and wanting to give up was an understatement, you were furious. But you promised yourself that you would keep trying and trying until you got the job you worked so hard for. Which you hoped would happen soon seeing as you were getting pretty tired of the rich people who talked down to you at the restaurant where you worked as a waitress. 

You were underpaid and just tired of it all, working there and trying to get the job you wanted was more exhausting than the four years of work you put in to actually get your degree. But you were still determined nevertheless.

You’d expected a restaurant like this in such a busy area of your city to be well paying, but it turns out a little above minimum wage and very small tips is what you get working there. So, on the side you wrote articles for small magazines during your free time, which turned out to be somewhat successful. But the most you’d ever earned on one of your articles was $400, which would have to do for now until you got the job you actually wanted, not needed. 

At the current moment, the time was 10:30pm on a Saturday and you had gotten home not long ago from another busy shift at the restaurant. You were tired and your body was sore, as if you had just gone on a four hour long hike. Your hair becoming a little messy as you got settled on your couch, the belt that was once in the loops on your black dress pants now resting on the floor next to your coffee table and the first few buttons of your shirt undone. You were just about to fall asleep here, your eyelids growing more and more heavy with each passing moment, when someone knocked on your door, causing you to perk up right away. 

Not feeling the need to ask who it was on your doorstep at this hour, you simply got up then unlocked and opened the front door to your apartment. Revealing your best friend, Steve to be standing there on the other side of the door.

He softly greeted you with a hug, making you smile into his chest. “Hey, how’ve you been?” he gently asked as he rubbed your back. “Hi, Stevie.” you quietly said while you hugged him back, making a smile of his own appear on his face. “I’ve been alright, just tired and frustrated. The usual.” you answer with a shrug, quickly closing the door behind him after you leave his arms. Your answer made him frown as the two of you walked over to your couch.

You and Steve had known each other since middle school and had been very close since then. You had truly been through it all together. He hated to see that his best friend was struggling even after all you had done to get what you wanted. 

That frown is still on Steve’s face as he started to speak again, “I understand. But I have to admit, I’m tired of seeing you like this, y’know, struggling. You don’t deserve to.” he said from his spot next to you on your couch. You let a sigh escape your lips, your shoulders dropping into a more relaxed position, “I know,” you said, pausing to take a deep breath, “but there’s not much I can do except keep sending out my manuscript to more publishers. Although I will admit I don’t have much hope, it’s just been six months of rejections from every publisher I’ve send it to. I hate that it’s this hard to be successful at the job I literally got my degree for but I guess all I can do is keep trying and working.” you told him, fully conveying your frustration and exhaustion to Steve again.

He nodded in response and gently placed his hand over yours, “I get it and I agree, you should keep trying. But until you do get an acceptance from a publisher, I do have a suggestion that could get you out of working that tiring waitress gig I know you hate.” he replied, making you chuckle a little while a smirk appeared on his lips. 

You jokingly rolled your eyes at him and began to rest your head on the couch, “Oh no, what is it this time?” you jokingly said, waiting to hear what Steve had to say, no longer surprised by his antics. He nodded in response then spoke once more, “Now this is just a suggestion, so just hear me out okay?” he said, earning a nod from you in response before he speaks again, “I think that you should check out this sugar daddy site I’ve used a few times called Classy. There’s a lot of rich lonely guys on there who will literally pay you just to hang out with them. It’s not as bad as you’d think it would be.” he explained, moving his hands around while he talked.

You had to admit, it’s a decent and possible solution to your problem. But you still felt a bit suspicious about it anyway. 

You opened your mouth to speak but Steve quickly interrupted before you could even get a word out, “I know what you’re going to say but, please, just think about it.” he said, making you roll your eyes again. “Steve, I appreciate the advice I do. But you know I want to be independent, I don’t know how to feel about the idea of relying on someone else for money. But I promise to think about it and that’s all you’re getting out of me, Stevie.” you replied, ending your statement with a laugh while you point at Steve. He laughs with you, “Fine, but I still think you should do it.” he said, his hands up in the air in surrender, causing the two of you to laugh a little.

As for the rest of the night, you and Steve sat on your couch and talked a bit more about all of the things that have been going on in your lives since you last spoke to each other.

You told him about how stressful work has been and the recent articles you’ve written. How your dating life has been non-existent with how busy you’ve been. Steve told you about how stressful his own job has been. As well as how nicely past arrangements with sugar daddies have gone for him and to be picky when picking one. 

A few hours later at about 2am, after talking for a while you and Steve said your goodbyes and he headed home, promising to tell you that he made it home safe when he got there. 

Once he had left, you began to get ready for bed while you thought about Steve’s suggestion. If you’re being honest with yourself, this whole sugar daddy thing did sound a bit appealing.

But it is something you wanted to think about and talk to Steve about more before you made a decision. You just wanted to make sure that the site is safe and that you wouldn’t be putting yourself into a dangerous situation. You also wanted to really think about whether or not you are really okay with having someone, a rich man specifically, help you out financially. You almost fell asleep that night thinking about it too, but you decided to let your mind rest for now. You’d call Steve in the morning–the beginning of your day off– and talk about it more then. 

--------------------------------

Two days had passed now since Steve had brought up the idea of getting a sugar daddy to you and after a lot of talking and thinking about it, you decided to give the site a chance. But if it ended up going badly for you, you’d never use it again. And as a safety precaution, you promised to send Steve the name, phone number and photo of the guy you end up deciding to meet up with.

Your profile on the site consisted of the basic things about you one might want to know, a few of your interests and a few photos of you to go along with it. Afterward, you began to scroll through the site and the profiles of the sugar daddies on there.

Meanwhile, as you were deciding whether to go through with signing up for this site or not, Eddie was sitting on his own couch in his own home. 

At this point in his life, Eddie was one month into his band, Corroded Coffin’s one year long break from making music and touring. When the band was active, he had been completely fine with living alone, he was too busy to even have the chance to feel lonely. But now that he had absolutely nothing to do but work on his solo music, that lonely feeling had easily creeped into his life. Now his home felt empty and cold instead of comforting and warm like it usually did when he was busy. Because of touring and making music, he used to rarely be here and now he’s here all the time.

He wanted someone to spend his newfound free time with, he wanted companionship. But it’s a bit difficult for him to find love on dating apps, all of his accounts end up getting taken down not long after he makes them because people think they’re someone pretending to be him. He can’t meet anyone by just going out anymore without getting swarmed by paparazzi and fans because of his fame. So, he decided to check out a sugar daddy site called ‘Classy’ that he’s seen ads for a few times. “Maybe it could be promising?" he thought.

Nevertheless, he decided to give it a shot and created an account on the site. Like you, on his profile he included some basic information about himself, some of his interests and a few photos of himself. His bio, which he quickly typed out without really thinking about it, simply said, “37, Just looking for someone to spend time with.” Then like you he began to scroll through the site and the profiles of the sugar babies on there. 

Ten minutes into your own scrolling, you stopped on Eddie’s profile–his beauty having caught your eye–and you clicked on it right away. After looking through his profile a bit, it seems like he would be a good match for you. He’s definitely not as demanding as the other men on there. So you messaged him. You knew who he was of course and while you are shocked to see him on the site, you didn't bring either of those things up in your message, assuming that he probably just wants to be treated like any other person.

The message you ended up sending to him after deleting and retyping it a few times said, “Hey, if you’re up for it, I’d be open to discussing an arrangement that would work best for us. :)” You then, with your heart still beating a little fast, hit send and closed the website on your phone for now. 

—————————

After a bit of scrolling, Eddie really hadn’t found anyone who matched what he was looking for. But he didn’t want to give up on this yet, so he headed over to the inbox part of the site and saw that nearly a hundred messages had already appeared even though his account had only existed for less than an hour. Most of these people didn’t really interest him, mostly because they seemed to only be interested in him because of his fame, not because they want the same thing as him.

Seeing this made him want to give up for now and he’s about to close the site, mentally planning on looking at it again later when he sees your name in his inbox and the preview of what you had sent to him. But before he had properly looked at the message you sent, he was immediately drawn to look at your profile first. Your profile picture alone had him entranced, you were just so beautiful and the bits of your personality that you included on your profile only made him more entranced with you. If that was even possible. 

He then read your message, the message making him smile to know that this woman he was so drawn to was interested in the same sort of arrangement as him. He messaged you back as soon as he finished reading your message, his fingers gliding across the keyboard on his phone, “Hi. Sounds like a plan! Meet me at The Rouge for dinner on Friday at 6pm so we can properly talk about how we both want this to work. See you then. ;)” Not long after he had sent this, you checked the site and saw this message waiting for you in your inbox, your cheeks blushing at the thought of a man as handsome as him being interested in you. 

You agreed to meeting up with him for dinner right away and he responded again quite quickly like you had, this time with his number so that the two of you wouldn’t have to keep in touch through the site. You then sent him a quick message saying hi and letting him know that it was you texting him, getting a response from him moments later that simply said, “Hi :)” back, causing you to smile softly to yourself.

[hellishattempt]

𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 - the girl in new york

cr sybbatra on twitter, sourced from pin

🢥 summary : celebrity!au gojo satoru and rumours swirling around your established relationship, 3.1k words 🢥 series includes : choso, fushiguro toji, geto suguru, gojo satoru and nanami kento, part one of five 🢥 content : celebrity!au, gn reader, angst mostly, established relationship, cheating, paps being an ass, lying, use of baby/love/darling and other pet names, song cr goes to nessa barrett, not proofread lol kinda just wrote this instead of studying for exams. don't like the ending, but i never do. 

 . . . GOJO SATORU SEEN WITH ANOTHER WOMAN AT NYFW was not the headline you wanted to wake up to. it was a lazy saturday morning, and you didn't have any plans for the day. your boyfriend, the prominent gojo satoru, was currently in new york for fashion week. you had been dating for almost a year, having met a little over six years ago at club heaven in los angeles on his birthday by pure accident. the japanese born model had been dragged to america for his twenty first birthday, and spilled his drink on you. he hasn't left the states since. he's established himself in the modeling world, and fashion week was the busiest time of year for him. being a singer / songwriter yourself, you had quite the busy schedule. your bustling schedules were part of the reason it took so long for you and satoru to get together. there was mutual pining, but you both spent so much of your time in different cities and airports, that there seemed to be no point in it. but geto made a joke that if satoru didn't bag you, then he would, and that about did it for satoru. sure, dating hasn't been easy, but you've made it work. satoru had moved in with you in your luxury apartment in the hills of los angeles, though neither of you were there often. after all, you were both a lister celebrities. everyone knew your names, especially the paparazzi. 

neither of you were big fans of the paps, satoru especially. you tried to show grace, after all, they were just trying to do their jobs. but their jobs were to be nosy and wrongfully invade your privacy. there were always headlines about you and satoru, the rumours and scandals never seemed to end, but for some reason, this one hit home. your phone read 10:01 a.m. you were in your los angeles apartment, so you were three hours behind satoru. you didn't have any notifications from him, which was weird, because he usually made a point to send you a good morning text before you woke up, no matter what timezone you were in. even if it meant satoru had to set an alarm for two a.m. so that you would wake up with a "good morning, baby," then he would set an alarm. in fact, the only notification you had was a text from shoko, with a link to the article. "have you seen this??" her text read. you clicked the link and it opened a separate page for people magazine. it took all your strength not to roll your eyes. people was your number one enemy when it came to tabloids. they always fabricated such stupid things, so you didn't think much of it at first. still, you read the article word for word. 

"gojo satoru was seen today eating lunch with fellow model, iori utahime, at new york's own per se. gojo and iori have been friends for a while now, but are they more?" you scoffed, adjusting yourself in your large bed, continuing on. "gojo and irori are currently in new york for fashion week, and were photographed outside per se for a late lunch before tonight's opener. the photos were quickly posted, and the response was a mix of emotions. in the string of photos, we see gojo and iori sharing a laugh... while holding hands? in a few, his arm was tightly wrapped around iori's waist as he escorts her out of the restaurant. a few nights prior, photos had of gojo and iori sharing drinks at an elite club on eighth had been released, where they seemed more than friendly. that same night, the took shared a taxi, stumbling into the hotel together. social media shares our reply: has gojo's partner seen this and what do they have to say about it?" the article was short and sweet, but it did the trick. the photos had been attached, as well as a slew of twitter posts. #satohime was the third trending tag on twitter. tears stung your eyes as you white-kunckled your phone in your hand.

you were torn between believing and not believing the article. you knew satoru would never cheat on you, but the evidence was right in front of you. he was out with another woman, someone he's known longer than you, holding hands and wrapping himself close to her. you'd never met utahime, but satoru always returned from fashion week, brimming with stories about her that made him laugh until his stomach cramped. you knew they were close, despite only seeing each other twice a year, they'd grown up together. you tried to tell yourself that maybe it was just a rumour, photos taken out of context. after all, it wasn't anything drastic, like a vulgar makeout video, but it still made you sick. so you did the only thing you knew hot to when it come to your emotions: you wrote a song.

. . . NEW UPLOAD : THE GIRL IN NEW YORK flashed across gojo satoru's screen. it was a youtube notification for your channel. he frown slightly at the words, wondering what you were thinking about when writing this. he was at work right now, so he silenced his phone. satoru would listen to the song on the cab ride back to his hotel. he hadn't heart about the people's magazine yet, despite it being published six hours ago. satoru had been so busy with the fashion week presentations and rehearsals, that lunch with utahime had been the first time in a few days he'd left skylight clarkson. in fact, he'd been so busy, that he'd forgotten to charge his phone the night before. it was currently charging, thanks to utahime letting him borrow hers. satoru felt bad for failing to send you a text, but surely you'd understand if it was just one time. utahime wasn't a model like satoru, instead a manager for one of the labels. fashion week in februar and september were some of the only times they saw each other anymore. every february they swore they'd try to see each other more that year, but sepember would always be the second time they saw each other that year. their schedules just didn't allow for it. and even though satoru was a major pain in the ass to utahime, she prized his friendship. they made a point to spend as much time together during fashion week as possible, hence the drinks and lunch.

when the night had finally ended, satoru was exhasted and couldn't wait to return to his hotel bed. it wasn't as good as sleeping next to you, but he could fall asleep on a bag of dirt at this point. satoru stumbled into a taxi, giving the location of his hotel, and pulled his phone from his bag. it was charged now, and your youtube notification sat prettily on his lockscreen, which was a picture of you laughing with your head thrown back. satoru fumbled in the dark of the cab to find his headphones, finally pairing them to his phone and playing the song. "bags in your hand as you kiss me, tellin' me you're gonna miss me. promised me you'll be on you best behavior." your sultry voice entered his ears as the song started slow, a gentle piano and slow guitar riff. "gave me your flight information, call me when you land, say you made it. sweet little me told you, 'go have a good time.'" the song picked up the pace, transitioning into the pre-chorus and chorus. "i didn't mean forget about me, riding in a yellow taxi. who the hell are you on your way to?" satoru was almost too tired to notice the lyrics. almost. "you said i was yours, but maybe just on the west coast, cause as soon as you left home, you got wandering eyes.

"so i guess you lied when you called me special. you're not as smart as you think you are. who the hell is she, taking you from me?" as the song continued, he was more awake with every bar. "fuck you for making me crazy, while you buy her drinks out on eighth street." were you talking about utahime? wait, did you think he had done something? satoru was so confused, consumed by your obscure lyrics. the song ended too soon for his taste, none of his questions being answered by your final line. "baby, i know about the girl in new york..." your voice faded, his headphones going silent. having reached the hotel, satoru rushed to his room, immediately opening his laptop to do some digging. his phone had been silence all day, and when satoru opened his messages app to see if you had said anything, he was instaed hit with over three hundred texts from shoko and suguru. neither sounded happy with him, while satoru still had no idea what he did. before even acknowledging their texts, he went straight to your conversation. "darling, what's going on with your new song??" he typed out quickly, then added, "not that i don't love it! just kinda confused." he watched as delivered turned to read, which resulted in those damn three dots making two additional appearances before completely disappearing. satoru let out a groan of frustration, going to google and searching your names together. the first thing that popped up was an article from people magazine. "gojo satoru seen with another woman at nyfw." the headline read. fuck, how he hated the paparazzi.

satoru skimmed the article, not pleased with what he was reading. his confusion dissipated into annoyance, both towards you and the fucking paps. you always told him to be nicer towards the media, they were just trying to their job, but these fucking rumours were getting out of hand. how dare they make you think he would ever cheat on you? satoru didn't suffer a friendship with you for five years while being enamored with you every action for one damn article about him and utahime. all of those pictures had been taken out of context. the one where they were holding hands? utahime had tripped on a sewer grate and satoru had reached out so she didn't fall flat on her face. the one with his arm around her waist? they were both completely shitfaced and barely standing on their own. the ones about them at the club and the taxi? satoru can handle a drink or two, but uta gets hammered after two drinks, so of course he was going to take her back to her hotel and make sure she got up all right. that's what friends are for. but now, thanks to the media, he's got a lying article, pissed off friends and a song tearing him to pieces written by the love of his life, who may not ever want to see him again. great, just fucking great.

he dialed your number. you declined it before the first ring. he did this four more times, with you rejecting the call instantly. on the sixth call, there was no rings, and an automated voice responded, "i'm sorry, the number you are trying to reach is not in service or temporarily disconnected. please try again later. good bye." oh my god, you fucking blocked him. irritated with you, the media and with himself for making you feel so insecure, he scrolled to his group chat with shoko and suguru. neither of them were happy with gojo. he didn't bother to read all their messages, he got the gist of it. satoru hastily responded, "i didn't fucking cheat. the article's lying. one of you need to tell them that because i'm fucking blocked." he sent the message, standing in a silent fury. a moment later, satoru threw his phone at the wall with a yell. the device bounced off, falling onto the hotel bed. there was a small dent in the wall nothing extremely noticeable, and his phone was fine. "fuck," satoru breathed, sinking into one of the chairs in his room. he held his head in his hands, mind racing with what to do. an idea formed in his frustrated mind. it was stupid, but it was something. satoru grabbed his jacket and his phone from the bed, storming out of the hotel.

. . . THE SOUND OF SOMEONE POUNDING ON YOUR DOOR pulled you from delirium. groggily, you checked your phone. it was just past four am. who the hell would be at the door at four in the morning? you rolled over in bed, hoping whoever it was would go away. they didn't. they just kept beating at the wood. with a groan, you rose from the mattress. a headache slammed into you as you stood, and you had to sit back down to steady yourself. the last eighteen hours hadn't exactly been fun. after you uploaded "the girl in new york", you had turned your notifications for everything off. although, every five minutes you checked if satoru had texted you. when he finally did, you didn't know how to respond, the images from the article flashing across your mind and filling you with sickness and sadness. you had been out all day, drinking and trying to forget. after getting kicked out of two bars, you went home, where you drank more. throughout the night you emptied the contents of your stomach and eyes, vomiting and crying more than what felt humanely possible. it felt like you had barely lied down when the knocking began.

when you had mustered the strength to stagger your way to the door, you wished you had stayed in bed. a red eyed, messy haired, heaving gojo satoru stood at your door. neither of you spoke. what was there to say? he had cheated on you. you had retaliated with an exposing song. or maybe he hadn't cheated on you, and you simply misunderstood. either way, what had happened, happened. as far as you were concerned, he was here to beg for your forgiveness. you began to shut the door, but he stopped you. with a sigh, you let him in. it was his apartment, too, after all. you wobbled to the kitchen, leaning against the counter and pouring yourself a glass of water. satoru watched you in silence. "well?" you croaked out. "come to apologize? gloat?"

"baby..." he whispered, stretching his arms out to you, but retracting when you took a step back. satoru took a breath, steadying himself. "i didn't cheat," he stated plainly. "i know you think i did. but i didn't. uta is just a friend. i've never thought of her that way, and i'm never going to think of her like that. i'm not dating her, i'm dating you." his words sounded slightly reheards. he must've been practicing on his flight here. it dawned on you that it was four in the morning in los angeles, and seven a.m. in new york. satoru was missing fashion week, here, trying to fix things. a flight from nyc to la was just over six hours, so he would've had to get on a plane by one am est. he had texted you just after eight fifty p.m. pst, so eleven fifty new york time. which means almost as soon as he heard your song, he was on his way to the airport to fly to you. "please baby, you gotta believe me. those paps fucked everything up, the photos-"

"are they fake?" you cut him off. "the photos. are the fake? photoshopped or otherwise edited?"

gojo slightly squirmed, "well, no, they're not edited, but they were taken out of context." he rushed out the last part of his sentence. "please, love, just hear me out."

he looked like a disaster. satoru's normally bright irises were dim, the usual joy gone. he looked sleepless, violent violet bags forming like bruises under his red-rimmed eyes. his fluffy white hair was flat against his forehead, matted and lifeless. he was still in his work clothes, with his favorite blue jacket hanging open on his shoulders. satoru looked like he hadn't ate or slept in the last eighteen hours. maybe it was how pitiful he looked maybe it was how much you still loved him. but you nodded your head, allowing for satoru to explain. his sigh was audible, and some color returned to his eyes.

"okay, first, i love you so fucking much. i've loved you since that first night we met into the bar six years ago. if you don't forgive me tonight, or ever, i'm still going to spend the rest of my life trying to make up for the hurt that i've cause you from that stupid article. i didn't cheat on you, not with utahime or with anyone else. i spent five years trying to work up the nerve to ask you out, i'm not going to let you go easily." satoru meant every word he said, his tone convinced you of that. "second," he continued, "is that the paparazzi are always pulling things out of their asses, we know this. the first photo they talked about, the one with me and utahime at per se, where we were holding hands? her heel had got caught on a sewer grate, and uta tripped. i grabbed her hand to prevent her falling on her face, which honestly, would've been funnier." you chuckled lightly, and a smile formed on satoru's lips. from his perspective, this was going much better than he had anticipated. "the next photo with my arm around her waist, utahime was so drunk, she could barely stand. i was pretty drunk, too. we were the only ones keeping each other up. same with the pictures of us outside the club on eighth. i wasn't as drunk in that one, but she was pretty hammered. i didn't feel comfortable just sending uta off in a cab back to her hotel. something easily could've happened to her, so i went back with utahime to her hotel. nothing happened between me and her," satoru finished. quiet settled over you two again as you contemplated his words.

everything he said made sense. you wanted to believe him so badly, but you weren't there yourself. "okay," you said slowly, after what felt like an eternity to satoru.

"okay? wh-what does that mean? does... does that mean you believe me?"

you took a deep breath. "i believe you."

those three words were all he needed to hear. satoru rushed over to you, his body engulfing you in a crushing embrace. "oh, thank god," he breathed into your hair. when he pulled back, his blue eyes were shining once again. satoru almost kissed you, forgetting his exhaustion, but your hangover still gripped at you. you winced at his strength, your arms hanging limply at your side. satoru whispered out an apology, guiding you back to bed. before you both finally found the sleep you desperately needed, you mumbled, "i'm sorry about the song."

satoru laughed quietly, resting his head in the crook of your neck. "don't be, i think it's your best one yet."

[b-skarsgard]

•“Wrapping the movie was a fucking relief,” Bill Skarsgard says. Yes — the face of an entire horror franchise with his twisted portrayal of It clown Pennywise — was more than ready to set free Robert Eggers‘ Nosferatu. “Everything that he represents is so intense, I was happy to let go of the chains he had on me.”

Skarsgard first read the script for Eggers’ macabre folktale 10 years ago. The filmmaker had just released The Witch (2015) and Skarsgard believed he was sitting with someone who represented the future of cinema. “I was like, ‘Oh, my God, this is so exciting,'” the Swedish actor recalls to The Hollywood Reporter about Eggers’ interest in him for the role of the century-old villain. “The script floored me. … It was flattering but also very daunting.”

•“But I think Bill’s vampire is sexy,” Eggers adds, followed by a chorus of agreement from his cast. Says Dafoe: “He’s pure appetite.”

Appetite is a good word to capture the magnetism of Skarsgard’s portrayal. He has the bald head, the pointed ears and spindly fingers per both Murnau’s film and Werner Herzog’s Nosferatu the Vampyre from 1979. But it’s a deep, gritty, Transylvanian rasp that does a good chunk of the leg work for Eggers’ creature. “I knew that he was going to live in the shadows for so long,” Skarsgard says. “The voice was my [only] form of expression.” He worked with an opera singer to lower his voice by an entire octave. “We showed the film in Stockholm last week, with my friends and family, and some of them didn’t believe it was my voice, or they thought that it was a voice actor.” (Laughs.) “Rob and I built it together and it meant we had the freedom to create our version of it, to make it different than, you know, [in a heavy, imitative Transylvanian accent], ‘Dracula!’”

At this moment, Depp herself performs her Dracula impression for the group. They erupt laughing. “It’s very Italian,” she says. “I think it’s the last [role] in the world that I could play.”

Skarsgard begins to unpack the significance of a novella on Orlok’s back story that Eggers wrote just for him. The Count had a family and was once married, the actor says, before his director intervenes: “I don’t want the world to know his backstory. But he had a very detailed one.”

full article at the link above

[raphaellight]

Mike vs Harvey: Genius, talent and hard work

Suits does present us Mike as a genius. Fotographic memory, mind capable of analyzing enourmous number of data in a span of minutes. He is also charming and fast-witted. A perfect lawyer.

And it was made a thing thruout most of the show. Mike is the Genius, the mind like no other. It would usually be a story about a scientist curing cancer or creating new technologies and exploring cosmos if it wasn't a show about lawyers.

And yet, by the end, Mike is not THE best lawyer there is. Even in his prime, Mike Ross never topped that one guy. The one that took it upon himself to mentor him.

How is it, that the Golden Child with superhuman brain can't top this man?

There are plenty of things to unpack. Just looking for a appropiate pic of Harvey I found an article discussing how to build confidence by emulating Harvey Specter. Suits isn't exacly the deepest show, but that one thing we can all realise on this particular fictional story. Brain power is not all there is.

Don't get me wrong, I do not sign under "there is no such thing as IQ, everyone is smart" ideas and Harvey is definitelly one of the smartest fictional characters. It just shows brain power doesn't always equals competence and greater talent doesn't always mean greater succes.

While Harvey can't recite hole passages of lawyers guide book he read 10 years ago or memorize hole aggrement down to a coma in ten minutes, his experience, lessons and passion he has for his craft make him excel at things brain power alone can't equate to. He reads people like books and knows exacly how to use it to judge the best business partners for decades in advance and how to convince said people to work with him. He has experienced enough to know when he can take a risk and bold enough to do it even against his own boss opinions. Even if Mike can quote all of the American corporate law, Harvey can quote enough of it needed to win any case he needs. And he is passionate enough that everyone knows he will do anything to win any case that comes his way.

I'm not here to give definitive answer on who's better lawyer. Seems like a contradiction to everything I wrote up until now, but at the end, Harvey specializes in corporate law where as Mike, driven by his idealistic ideas and need for helping others turns more towards lawsuits against unethical corporate practices, which he excells at. In later seasons, when Mike stops being MC, he is often referred as "jury charmer" or something like that, while Harver is "the closer" that rarely brings a case to actuall court. They have slightly different styles, take on different cases and, most important, have different motivations for practicing law.

A phew years back, a friend of mine told me to "stop focusing on whether or not can I understand a field and just enter it" when I voiced my own anxiety about finishing high school and putting myself on a more specialized carrier road. In the show about top of the top, lesson we need to take away is that, we can always fill in if we are passionate and hard working enough. Talent and genius can put people only so far ahead. Even Genius like Mike Ross can't top a man that puts his hole heart into something. And remember, both of them had to look for Louis Litt advice when they delt with finance law.

[palestinegenocide]

Losing the Prophetic

Marc H. Ellis

This week Jewish theologian Marc H. Ellis died at the age of 71 following an extended illness. Marc’s work strived to define a Jewish theology of liberation. His writing and speaking over several decades influenced a countless number of people all over the world, myself included.

We were very lucky to have Marc as a writer at Mondoweiss for several years where he wrote a column called Exile and the Prophetic. That name speaks to a great theme of Marc’s work: the battle between Empire and the prophetic within contemporary Jewish life.

For Marc, the prophetic, or the challenge to power, was the true meaning of Judaism. This is a topic he and I would debate. His belief in a Jewish particularity versus my admittedly secular belief in the universality of the call to justice (which in truth he would never deny). And yet, he would insist that it was this prophetic imperative that Jews are uniquely called to wrestle with, especially in the present age with the advent and domination of Zionism. In his first column for us he wrote, “The prophetic is our indigenous. It is exploding right before our eyes.” This is the story he told through the decades of his work.

To Marc, the true core of Judaism was being sacrificed at the altar of Zionism, or as he often called it Constantinian Judaism, the toxic marriage of religion with state power. If you ever saw him speak or read his writing you are likely familiar with the vision he would recount of imagining an Apache helicopter gunship flying out of a Torah ark during a sabbath service. As you can imagine his work is more relevant today than ever.

There is one article of his that we published more than 10 years ago that I’ve thought about often over the last 8 months of the Gaza genocide. In that article, titled “Burning Children,” Marc returned to one of the great themes of his work – how American Jewish life and theology has been shaped by the experience of the Nazi Holocaust and the challenge that Jewish oppression in Palestine presents to this worldview. In the article he references Rabbi Irving Greenberg who helped shape post-Holocaust Jewish theology in the U.S. and writes:

It was in a 1974 essay that Rabbi Greenberg first wrote about the burning children of the Holocaust as a challenge for the Jewish future. I have quoted this passage often: “After the Holocaust, no statement, theological or otherwise, should be made that is not credible in the presence of the burning children.” Rabbi Greenberg’s invocation of burning children came to life in a different way for me when I visited Palestinian hospitals during the first Palestinian Uprising in 1988 and 1989. There I saw Palestinians of all ages but mostly teenagers who had been shot by Israel’s “rubber” bullets. Some were struggling for life. Others were already brain dead. I visited with the parents and siblings of the injured. Above the beds were martyr photos of the children framed by kefiyas. After I left the hospitals, I wrote a poem about my experience. I used Rabbi Greenberg’s haunting word about burning children to express my experience in the hospitals. In the poem I asked if these Palestinian children weren’t, like the children of the Holocaust, burning too. I felt the Palestinian children I saw were in many ways “our” children. We share a common humanity as starters but for Jews I knew that their “burning” was our responsibility. Though unintended by Rabbi Greenberg, his Holocaust statement has broadened to include Palestinians who are “burning,” this time at the hands of Jews. What theological statement can we make about God that makes sense to the burning children of the Holocaust – and Palestine?”

And he ended the article, written in 2014:

Chastened by history, indeed, Jews are – by the Holocaust and now by Palestine. For in Gaza right now children are burning everywhere.

I thought about Marc often this past week as we published, and imagined the discussions we would have had. How can one not mourn and rage at the unimaginable crime of burning children after reading Reem Hamadaqa’s devastating recounting of the Israeli attack that killed 14 members of her family, or in the essential reporting Tareq Hajjaj shared from the massacre in Nuseirat refugee camp. In that report, 11-year old Tawfiq Abu Youssef told Mondoweiss, “I stayed under the rubble for hours. I did not think for a moment that I might survive and see life again. I had lived through death enough while I was under the rubble. That was death.” I imagine Marc would summon these stories to demonstrate the fight against empire remains central which is why the repression we face, even in the U.S. continues to deepen.

He would also be the first to point out that the prophetic, even if weakened, refuses to submit. I know he would have responded vigorously to Anna Rajagopal’s searing indictment of the discourse over “Jewish values,” and despite the Jewish community’s overwhelming embrace of “Empire Judaism” he would raise up those charting a different path forward.

One moment I will never forget with Marc was a conversation he and I had years ago, as I was editing one of his articles. He told me, whether we knew it or not, our work at Mondoweiss was documenting the end of Jewish ethical history. I was struck then at the power of the statement and remain so today. As I reflect on Marc’s passing this is not a responsibility I take lightly.

Marc will be missed deeply and yet it has never been more clear that his legacy and work will live on. As Marc would likely say, the prophetic cannot die. In fact, Marc told us as much in his own words, “The Jewish prophetic will survive; it will continue to accompany and haunt those Jews who enable and perpetuate injustice against Palestinians.”

[dragon-swords-prophecies]

WIP Re-Intro: Herald At Dawn

Title: Herald at Dawn

Genre: Steampunk fantasy murder mystery

Status: 30k, draft 0 mostly finished

POV: Third person limited, multiple POVs

Setting: A steampunk city called Volimere, loosely based on victorian/edwardian london. Fashion is 1890s based, technology is, uh, wherever I think is coolest before the 1940s. Technically, its set in september & october of 1891, but thats largely because any later and the sleeves on women’s shirts get unmanageable. 

Universal TW/CW: Murder, corruption, legal systems being really really shit at their job, implied homophobia, cheating/affairs on spouses (past), bribery, death, implied past sexual assault, severe injury

Plot/Synopsis: 11 years ago a woman named Marisol Ekker was murdered by the wife of her son's father, Evelyn Belmont. Despite all evidence, Evelyn Belmont was acquitted and faced no punishment. Nearly a decade later, investigative reporter Alexandrina McLelland approached Marisol Ekker's son, Nathaniel Ekker--who was 12 at the time of her death--, to write an article about the corruption in the case. It is published in The Clockwork Herald, the newspaper where Alexandrina works, and exposes the dirty laundry of one of the city’s wealthiest families, the Belmonts. Soon after a string of murders begins. At first suspicions point to someone entirely unconnected with the Ekker trial or Alexandrina’s article, but as the pressure mounts (and the danger gets much closer to home), it becomes clear that the article and the deaths are far more connected than anyone initially thought.

Main Characters & Important Side Characters (Character Into links to be added):

Alexandrina "Alex" McLelland. 31, she/her, aroace. Investigative reporter at The Clockwork Herald and the narrator for this story (most of the time. sometimes there's another narrator)! Possesses a strong sense of justice and a weak sense of self preservation. Firmly believes in pockets. She wants to finish what her father started and expose the crimes of the city’s wealthy and powerful. This is, unfortunately, going rather slowly.

James Blakely. 32, he/him, gay, editor at the Herald. Alex's childhood friend, and Leo's partner. Is best described as a golden retriever with anxiety. He worries too much for his own good. James inherited editor-ship of the herald from his uncle 10 years ago, but he had been working there in various capacities since he was a teenager.

León "Leo" Rivera. 33, he/him, bisexual & bilingual. Writes the pages on politics at the Herald & is James' partner. Leo wrote the original articles on the Ekker trial 11 years ago; he used to be a court reporter. He does his best to not get hurt by his job, but sometimes he’s terrible at it (Chapter 10. Chapter 10 is when he’s really, really terrible at it. Though to be fair it is not in any way his fault). 

Nathaniel Ekker. 23, he/him, queer. Tailor, and the son of the woman whose murder was the focus of the Ekker trial. He agreed to do Alex's article on the condition it would be anonymous (and it was). He was 12 when his mother was killed by his father’s wife. His aunts raised him, and he only returned to Volimere 4 years ago t0 reopen his mother’s shop. 

Arthur Hall. 30, he/him, cishet. Investigative reporter at the Volimere Daily, and Alex's (mostly friendly) rival. Also one of her closest friends. Despite this, they have a lot of disagreements. He was supposed to co-write the article with her but ended up not doing that.

Ronald Wilks. 65, he/him, bisexual & polyamarous. Sports & Entertainment reporter at The Clockwork Herald. He used to work with Alexandrina’s father (Donovan), before Donovan died. He was not supposed to be as plot relevant as he is and I do not have a lot to say about him (yet).

Taglist maintained below the cut, ask to be added or removed!

@thelaughingstag @gr3y-heron @another-white-void @amethyst-aster @akindofmagictoo

[coochiequeens]

I don't need to convince women on radblr that TRAs hate feminists because we work to safeguard women’s spaces from creepy men. But the media downplays that TRAs hate us for defending spaces with children and minors from creepy men.

By Reduxx Team. November 10, 2023

An Australian politician who shouted down a women’s rights campaigner for speaking out against gender ideology is under investigation amid allegations of child sexual abuse. Johnathan Davis, 31, was one of the only openly-gay politicians in the Australian Capital Territory (ACT).

Davis has been the Member for the Tuggeranong seat of Brindabella, first elected to the ACT Legislative Assembly in 2020 with the ACT Greens Party. According to his political profile, which is still functional on the ACT Greens website as of the writing of this article, he was also the party spokesperson for a number of portfolios, including LGBTQIA+ Affairs, Young People, Family and Domestic Violence, and Drug Harm Reduction.

Davis was known for his vocally pro-“queer” stance, and archived versions of his now-deleted social media profiles show he identified himself as a “queer man” using “he/him” pronouns multiple times over the years.

But the ACT Greens have now referred Davis to police over serious allegations involving two teenage boys, one aged 17 and one aged 15. A complaint about Davis’ sexual conduct with the 15-year-old alleged victim was reportedly brought to the attention of Greens leader Shane Rattenbury on Monday, though some are claiming that party officials had been made aware of Davis’ behavior as long as 4 years ago.

Earlier this year, Davis was involved in the counter-rally against British women’s rights campaigner Kellie-Jay Keen, who had stopped in Canberra as part of her international Let Women Speak Tour. Keen’s rallies, which are iterations of the popular Speakers Corner talks she often hosts in the United Kingdom, seeks to encourage women to speak about how gender ideology has impacted their lives.

During the Canberra rally, Keen’s side was persistently interrupted by hundreds of trans activist protestors, who shouted down speakers and held signs bearing threatening slogans.

At one heated point during the rally, former Greens Senator Abigail Thorpe aggressively rushed Keen while draped in an Aboriginal flag. Thorpe was quickly taken down by Keen’s security, and later claimed she was ‘pulverized’ by police. She also stated that Keen, who she referred to as a “filth being,” should not be allowed to speak on Aboriginal land.

Following news of Davis’ resignation, many women’s rights campaigners took to X (formerly Twitter) to express their lack of surprise.

“That’s exactly what this is about – women asking for basic rights and child safeguarding and these men are using the ‘gender’ movement to discredit us. Their motives are clear – now when are other women going to see it,” one user said.

“I take it ‘guilt by association’ doesn’t apply here then? That all these trans aren’t pedophile too? Or is that just neo-nazis and women’s rallies? Funny how the media works,” another wrote, referring to a separate incident in which those who attended Keen’s Melbourne rally were accused of being “nazis” due to the unrelated appearance of neo-Nazis in the area at the time of her event.

While ACT Greens leader Shane Rattenbury has insisted he has seen no evidence of criminal wrongdoing, he has admitted that the allegations, if proven true, would be legally actionable.

[grandhotelabyss]

“I have a Ph.D. that is essentially what a B.A. used to be, and a B.A. that is essentially what a high-school diploma used to be” How did this decline happen? I’ve been grappling with it as I finish my own bachelors, and have increasingly come to realise how worthless most of my education (barring a few god courses) has been. And I’ve spent fifteen-odd years in which I had maximum brain plasticity just being conned, and now it feels like it’ll take at least fifteen more years of hard dedicated effort to get to what still feels like a basic level of understanding.

And after that, I can barely share it with anyone because no one else even realises they’ve been scammed, let alone cares enough to put in the effort to fix it. Like that post you linked that starts with “I think the most depressing fact about humanity is that during the 2000s most of the world was handed essentially free access to the entirety of knowledge and that didn’t trigger a golden age”, I agree with a lot of points in the article but it’s also that no one my age (and frankly no more than one or two of my fifteen or so professors from the last four years, indicating to me that the rit goes way further back) gives a single shit — it doesn’t even rise to the level of nihilism (to misquote Lebowski, “at east it’s an ethos!), or even apathy, it’s just this fucking void. lol but I still love to learn so I’m okay for now

Paradoxically, too much information is as good as no information. You'll learn more history from one book than from an overwhelming set of shelves. I think Pound said somewhere you'd be better educated if you knew 10 great books well than 1000 books casually, or something like that. (He also said culture is what's left when you forget what you've read. I think that's exactly right. Then again one can't agree with everything Pound said.) Another one-word answer is "democratization." Serious education was once reserved for what was at least notionally an all-male aristocracy of clerics or warriors. Once you start letting people like me or George Eliot in on it—genetically speaking, I should be farming the stony hills of Abruzzo like my great-grandfather, and she should have been rearing the children of a Midlands estate manager like her father, and neither of us should ever have learned the name Spinoza—then it's probably inevitable that the curriculum is going to change in its temper and emphases. The loss of ancient languages and of any coherent historical narrative at all is regrettable, but we know many other things—things they, the old elites, didn't know at all, even if we're weak on our Latin and Roman history, o tempora, o mores!

The ultra-left communist Loren Goldner, whose website Break Their Haughty Power I used to like to peruse years ago when I should have been learning Latin and Roman history out of a book, died this year. (I found him because he would place ads for his wonderfully eccentric self-published book Herman Melville: Between Charlemagne and the Antemosaic Cosmic Man in the back of The Nation or Harper's or suchlike circa 2004.) In 1995—1995!—he wrote an essay called "The Online World Is Also On Fire: How the Sixties Marginalized Literature in American Culture (and Why Literature Mainly Deserved It)." There he wrote, and here I'll end, though in another mood I'd disagree with this vociferously, that what has displaced centralized traditional learning is a dispersal of micropolitical erudition, history as the breaking of the vessels:

The 60’s were a vast return of the repressed, something like Aschenbach’s dream at the end of Death in Venice, whose repercussions have by no means played themselves out. There was a vast stretching of the culture’s sensibilities, which pre-empted the traditional role of art in that stretching, precisely because much of it originated in the art world of the previous avant-garde The result has been an explosion of books on subjects unimaginable 30 years ago. Take the works of the gay historian John Boswell on medieval Christianity and homosexuality; they are almost literally inconceivable without the Stonewall riots. One could find hundreds of similar books, of uneven quality, on the history of every one of the cultural taboos shattered by the 60’s. Again, one can be more or less enthusiastic about the intellectual climate unleashed by “cultural studies”, but they are just one example of the kind of opening of the “doors of perception” that has occurred, with which few novels compete. The idea that novels convey to us an irreplaceable feel for daily life is unfortunately confined to the times and places in which novels were written, which is pretty limited historically and geographically. In an hour in a high-quality bookstore one can find massive studies of Shi’ite theology and its impact on Iranian history, the social history of Memphis in late antiquity, Amazonian shamanic medicine, Jewish mysticism in 13th century Barcelona, the impact of alchemy on the history of science in the West, the 16th and 17th century utopian millennia in the New World, the role of transported radical political convicts in the formation of 17th century Jamaica, Ifa divination, 17th century Andean resistance to Spanish colonialism, 18th century Aleppo, the architecture of Barabudur, and T’ang aesthetics, (and these are just subjects that leap to mind) and about which next to nothing was widely available prior to the 60’s. Lionel Trilling never heard of such things, and that’s too bad for Lionel Trilling, and the cramped reality he represented. The novel and poetry are not merely competing with on-line reality, they are competing with the growing discovery of realms of history more fantastic than anything that could have been made up.

[nanamicide]

ur not being annoying at all! gimme some : 🎁 💕 🌻 📗 💭 💡 📚 🤖 💛 💌 🎨 (dont have to do them all, just do the ones you wanna!)

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

This needs to be heavily edited but this is from a sukufushi fic I've been veryyyy slowly working on:

Sukuna's heart stops as he catches sight of the person so delicately playing this score. 

It's hardly even been a second since he's laid his eyes on him, but every cell in his body is already starving for more of him. 

Sukuna swallows thickly, carefully taking in the scene unfolding before him. Long, coordinated fingers dance across the piano, hitting the keys with a grace Sukuna would have never imagined to be humanly possible. The pianist’s body moves to the rhythm of the [adjective] tune, dark strands of hair gently swaying across his forehead as [something more movement]. 

Their gazes finally meet, and Sukuna knows he's done for. His heart loudly thumps against his ribcage, threatening to burst through as green eyes further capture him into the moment they're sharing, driving him deeper into the shadows the pianist is painting with the [adjective] sound of his music. Sukuna feels as though he's lost in a sea of darkness, the glint in the pianist’s eyes [something akin to a lighthouse making him feel safe]. He lets the [adjective] chords (of the score? Of the music? Of the piece? Idk) crash against him like tidal waves, making him drift further from the shore.

💕 What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

That's a difficult one, but probably sweetest blossoms, which I wrote for my friend Asa. I'm usually not into historical AUs but she requested one, and I surprisingly had a lot of fun writing it and look back on the process pretty fondly.

🌻 How often do you read your own fics?

Never tbh (unless proofreading to edit counts). If I read my own fics I would probably end up deleting them out of self doubt so I just let them sit there on ao3 for people to enjoy lmao

📗 Do you want to write something outside of fanfiction? If so, what about?

Not really, unless non-fiction books or articles about my professional field count.

💭 What inspires you and your writing?

It's mostly the media I consume that inspires me, whether it's music or anime/manga I'm watching/reading. Sometimes I'm also inspired by some stuff that happens to me irl or situations I'm in (there's a particular wip I'm working on that comes to mind when I say this, and if you end up reading it and know enough about me you'll probably catch it whenever I post that, lol).

💡How many WIPs do you currently have?

10 that I know for sure I'm not gonna end up scrapping. More if you count the ones that are on the fence, but I don't wanna go there 🤪

📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?

For Barakamon, I recommend ahknee (@misocucumber) always, especially this fic.

Other fics that have really stuck with me are run the red out by saltwreath for inuokko, the proper care of lilacs by teasomnia for sukufushi, anything by ietjesiobhan for haikyuu. And there was this one fake dating kuroken fic that I read a while ago, in which Kuroo and Kenma broke up years ago but never told anyone and get invited to kagehina's wedding and decide to pretend they're still dating for the occasion, but I can't remember the author or title and I don't have time to look for it rn, but that one stuck with me for a long time.

There are so many I'd like to recommend, I should really start coming up with rec lists.

🤖 Are non-fandom friends aware that you write fanfic?

Only my partner and a handful of online friends (i met them in anime circles i guess they could count as fandom friends as well, but they're not into it like that so idk)

💛 What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing?

That it doesn't need to be perfect on the first try, and that a draft is just that—a draft. You can always come back to edit it later and improve the things you don't like; that doesn't make you a bad writer or untalented, everyone does that.

💌 Is there a favorite trope you like to write?

Mutual pining with 2 idiots who think the other would never be into them

🎨 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

I honestly don't have a preference, if someone were to make fanart of my work I'd be eternally grateful regardless of the fic or scene the artist would pick!

[atariaction]

Kay’s 2023 Wrapped

Well, that about wraps it up for 2023, which means it’s time for my letter summarizing the computer history work that I did in the past year. I’ve been writing these letters since 2016, making this my eighth annual letter. I wish I had started this tradition in 1996, the year that my computer history efforts began when I launched the Digital Antic Project, which grew into Classic Computer Magazine Archive.

My goal this year was to publish six interviews on Antic: The Atari 8-Bit Podcast. I published just one. (It was a good one, with Rodrigo Castro about Atari in Chile. Why not six? My Internet Archive work and, simply, a lack of momentum on interviews. Once the process is going, it’s going! But getting that engine re-started is hard.) My goal for 2024 is to publish 15 interviews, which I fully expect to actually do. Between us over the years, Randy Kindig and I have published 436 interview episodes on Antic. Our collective goal is to reach 500 by the end of 2025. So to keep my end of the bargain, that means I’ll publish 15 interviews in 2024.

Scanning, though! I turned all sorts of rare paper material into easily-searchable digital material at Internet Archive. I scanned a lot of Atari newsletters, including many from Hughes El Segundo Employees Association Atari Computer Enthusiasts, South Bay Atari Computer Enthusiasts, and West LA Atari Users Group.

In other scanning news — let’s talk about MicroTimes. MicroTimes was a California-focused computer magazine that was published from 1984 through 1999. It was there in the thick of it, published in the state that brought us Silicon Valley. I wrote for MicroTimes for a few years starting in 1992. So I am especially proud of this: 41 issues of MicroTimes magazinewere added to Internet Archive in 2023, bringing the collection to 62 issues. Here’s the long-story-short summary of 10 years of effort: I made this happen. I willed it to happen. More issues will be added in 2024.

I also added two more books to the collection of Russ Walter’s Secret Guide To Computers at Internet Archive. The newest additions are hard-to-find editions from 1976, about BASIC programming and computer applications.

My Scantastix project (if you don’t know what that is, here’s a short article describing it) did some great work: we scanned 321 items totaling 22,577 pages. The scans include some rare Microsoft material, even rarer pamphlets and manuals for Compucorp computers (have you ever heard of them? The computer that came with them is on its way to Vintage Computer Federation) and so many Apple II manuals. Check out all the latest additions here.

Also, a weird scanning side-quest happened this year: My friend Cabel Sasser handed me a pile of more than 50 DAK catalogs, which I scanned for him, then he wrote a blog post about them that blew up the Internet for a few days. It’s a fun read.

Once again, I processed and edited videos of the presentations at Vintage Computer Festival West 2023and VCF East 2023. And I helmed a project to rescue audio from VCF West 2003. These were recordings that were made of talks twenty years ago, then the tapes were lost, then found, then given to me, then it turned out that the tapes were recorded terribly. It took a small team of people to get any sound at all from those tapes then turned into something listenable. They include the voices of C. H. Ting, Jef Raskin, John Ellenby, and Gary Starkweather, who have all passed since these were recorded.

When I interview a programmer, I ask the person if they have any source code. I interviewed Jay Jaeger, creator of the Atari Program Exchange version of Space War, in 2016. At the time he said he had the source code… somewhere. I contacted him from time to time to ask about that source code. (I have a “nag list” of people that I contact from time to time to ask them about some material or other.) Patience and persistence paid off. Just a few days ago, in December 2023, he found the assembly language source code and sent it to me to share.

A bit of personal archiving: I write for Juiced.GS magazine, which focuses on the Apple II. I uploaded all of the articles I've written for Juiced to Internet Archive, spanning 2015–2022. There are some interviews, some product reviews, and some nice little reminisces about the old days of microcomputers. (I released them under a Creative Commons license, so if you want to republish an article in a non-commercial computer club newsletter or something like that, go for it. My agreement with the magazine says that they get exclusive rights to articles for a year. So my 2023 articles will be shared online a year from now. In the mean time, it’s a good magazine: if you like Apple II, subscribe!)

My work at Internet Archive as the curator of the Digital Library of Amateur Radio & Communications is certainly one of the reasons I’ve had less time and energy for computer archiving. 2023 was my first full calendar year in this role. I hit my one-year anniversary in August! But there’s sometimes a nice overlap between the two efforts. For instance, in 2023 I archived several ham radio related programs for Atari computers and a few for DOS machines and even a handful for CP/M that were rescued from 8-inch floppy disks.

There’s something else, something that I’ve been teasing for years. In my 2018 letter I wrote “There’s a particular archiving project happening in 2019 that is really big and really important for microcomputer history. I’m not ready to talk about it, but hold your breath and cross your fingers.” Then at the end of 2019 I wrote: “That project depends on the help of one person who has been battling ongoing health issues. It is still very much at the front of my mind, and *crosses fingers* will move ahead this year.” It didn’t, and it couldn’t, but with patience and persistence, it’s finally happening. It’s already started, and I can’t wait to have something amazing to show you in 2024. Keep holding your breath and crossing your fingers just a little while longer.

If you support my archiving work on Patreon, thank you! Also please consider making a tax-deductible donation to Internet Archive, the non-profit online library that hosts all of my scans and interviews.

I hope we all have a pleasant and productive 2024. May your patience and persistence pay dividends.

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

Wife Guys

In the Before Times, before I left the old blog, I read this article about Wife Guys, and there's no way I can find it now, but I wrote a post attached to the article, which was written about a small group of celebrity men who built an image at least partially on how much they loved and adored their wives. So I wrote this as an agreement/response. Back then...like last September when I could still tolerate a blog with 1500ish followers:

This isn’t just a Celebrity Straight Man trend. This has been going on with Regular Joe Straight Men for at least the same amount of time, at least since social media has been common in people’s lives. About 10 years ago when J and I were still on Facebook, what I think was the leading Performative Social Media of the time, we had contact with some folks we’d have normally naturally faded away from: elementary school classmates and co-workers from previous jobs…you know. Before social media, not in a necessarily callous way, but in just a That’s Life sort of way, we’d have naturally not thought much about those people, particularly in our everyday lives, but because of Facebook (and now Instagram, Twitter, etc.), these people WERE in our everyday lives to a degree. (This isn’t a post about social media control, but yeah, I know you can block and unfollow people or choose not to friend them, or whatever…but here in Anonymousland it’s different than places where people know that your first grade classmate you ate lunch with or the person who worked at the desk next to you for 5 years ignored or blocked you with intention…that’s a different post). So we got to see men perform I Love My Wife a lot on Facebook. And we got to see the wives feed this too.

Wife Guy: Look at my gorgeous wife! <photo of her playing with kids, patting a dog, from a long time ago, carrying groceries, flipping him the bird, whatever>

Wife Guy: My wife made the best dinner tonight! <photo of hamburger helper or crockpot chili or something...not that there's anything wrong with eating that stuff or making that stuff...maybe it's his favorite and that's a valid favorite and celebrating everyday shit is what I'm all about, but the point is...the dinner doesn't matter...what matters is MY WIFE>

Wife Herself: Look at what Wife Guy got me for my birthday/our anniversary/something! <photo of jewelry, a big floral arrangement, fancy dinner out, concert tickets, a fucking car, whatever...again, the point isn't the shit she got, it's that I'm Married To Wife Guy Who Loves His Wife>

I admit I posted stuff on Facebook when I was still there that was positive about J too, just like I do here. But J’s not a social media guy. Shit, he’s not even a very verbal guy, usually. And like…friends of mine who knew J and I were happy; saw us in person being happy…started to doubt J’s love for me because he wasn’t being a Wife Guy on Facebook. I don’t want to generalize in reverse here. I’m sure some of these Celebrity Wife Guys and Facebook Regular Joe Wife Guys did/do love their wives for real. I gush about J all the time and that’s real for me. I love him and I tell him to his face all the time but sometimes that’s not enough for me and I get on here and write about it for other people and then I make up imaginary people and project J and me onto them. Like…I’m A Lot Sometimes, and I get that. I’m a sappy romantic. I eat this shit up! I really do. I literally run on it! No joke. So maybe there are some guys out there like me. Fair. Not trying to be a generalizing asshole here, I promise. And maybe there’s a part of me who wants to believe these dudes are sincere because I am, because I like sincerity, because I’m a hopeful optimist, because I AM that sappy romantic who runs on this kind of stuff (when it’s real), because who doesn’t want it to be true, right? But in my personal experience and what this article brings up about the Celebrity Guys Who Do This Shit? Wife Guys actually seem like they are the ones who maybe don’t even like their wives. And they are trying to convince other people in their lives, the general public (if they’re famous), or even THEMSELVES that they do for some kind of credit or gain. Hell, the celeb dudes are getting money and talk show bookings and formal publishing contracts and shit from it but even the Regular Joe Wife Guys are getting Credits. Feminist Man Credits. My Wife’s Family and Friends Adore Me Credits. I’m Making Other Husbands Look Bad Credits. And they are cashing them in. Believe me. But of the guys we know who did it? Divorced, divorced, divorced, divorced now. 4/4 divorced. J though? Who never posts shit about me? We’re still going strong headed into our 20th year together. The real shit is…most hetero guys who are married *and don’t make a goddam fuss about it for public (whatever your definition of public is) consumption* DO love their wives (and families/kids/etc.). J does. My best guy friends do. They don’t usually talk about it all the time though. Most of them are too busy actually loving their wives to talk about it all the time, I’m pretty sure.

[versussystem2]

TM GAME TOURNAMENT MAGAZINE ANNOUNCEMENT 03

Announcement 02 Recaps Announcement 02 is posted up on October 10, 2024 (7 days ago). I recaps about the time while living with my father. Also, the church members and nurses who visited him in our house. Then, I continue writing about when he pass away on 2020. Also, how his passing away have effected my life.

Painful Truth Recaps On 2004 my sister, Hong Lieng Lam pass away. I'm trying very hard to deny that bringing up her name would create more arguments to my life. By 2004, I have been a Mission Bay High School (MBHS) Journalism reporter for 3 years from 2001 to that point of time, 2004. So, reporting News and writing articles had been a routine in my life. Nevertheless, a week before she pass away, she slap me in the face in front of the whole family. The reason is because I told her secret to our parents, Chung Wun Lam and Sok Nghim Hoi. My reason is I was being pressured by obligated to my reporter position, so I thought I need to reveal her secret to our parents. The argument is it is a hard life lesson for me. Example: A life lesson in exchange for a life of my sister. On 2009, Lieng's death is happening again. This time is me. This mean I supposed to kill myself. Or, I would wish I have killed myself. Example: I could only think of 100s of ways why I should kill myself. I can't think of anyway why I don't kill myself. Coincidentally, on that same year, 2009, an International Student who have transferred from Asia to USA to enrolled in the Design Institute of San Diego (DISD). Have created a miracle in my life. The miracle is people in my life would make fun of me for not able to be around the female. Yet, I was able to go on a dinner with this International Student. She is female. I'm denying about maybe I'm about to die like Lieng. So, a dinner with this International Student is like my last meal. During that dinner, I told her the memory I still have before I die. In a way, a chance for me to talk about the memory I can't let go. More or less, I would argues that I'm telling her the memory I can't let go, because I'm going to die. Nevertheless, because of the argument I can't be around the female. I thought that dinner going to be a disaster. But, it turn out to be manageable. Toward the end of that dinner, as we were getting ready to leave the restaurant. She asked me, "What is wrong with you?". “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” Eleanor Roosevelt. I need to kill myself. The dinner going to be a disaster. Was all my thoughts. The argument is no one would believe this very high chance would happen to me. Because of this argument to be truthful to me is to tell me that I'm already dead.

Announcement 03 Begin I want to deny about the conspiracy on Lieng and that International Student. But, I vibe the argument that bringing up their names and/or talking about them. Would create arguments to my life. The goal is to try not to dwell on the past. And, stay with the schedule. In other words, I was giving myself a break in Announcement 02 by letting myself talk about the regrets I had when living with my father. In the self-recording video I made talking about my schedule. I wanted to have all the works I have done in my workshop as "AROWRA" to stay on top of my management. Arowra Development: I'm writing the Arowra Series Stories. And, I'm developing the "Arowra: Spiral of Conspiracy" Game Development. Video Game Walkthrough: I'm creating the Soul Calibur 4 & 5 Walkthroughs. After Soul Calibur, I'm creating the Silent Hill 2 & 3 Walkthroughs. For months of time from March 2024 to August 2024, I try to keep my schedule at "Arowra Development" and "Video Game Walkthrough" Like I wrote in Announcement 01:

It is very difficult for me to prove why I have "No Feedback No Follower".

My fundraising can't make any funds in more than 6 months from September 2023 to present, October 2024.

Both of my cell-phones is not working. The people in my surrounding have not lended me a cell-phone.

Because of #1-3, I would argues that I need to do something about the situation I'm in. So, I pushed myself to come up with a new schedule. At the same time, I have to stop self-rushing myself and self-criticizing myself. In addition, I want to argues that the adversities I'm facing is not the "Last Resort". Example: The pressures in my life make me see that the problems in my life seem like only creating more problems. The following is the new schedule: I'm going to begin writing the TM Game Tournament magazine using the history and commitment I have in the TCG & CCG from 1999 to present, 2024. Including the "Arowra Game Development". I'm going to finish up the Dark Souls walkthrough. Which I started on 2015. Through the 9 years from 2015 to present, 2024. I would argues if I puts pressures on myself and rushed myself to hurry and finish up the walkthrough. Then, it would effected the walkthrough. So, when I felt that I'm putting too much pressures on myself on the walkthrough. Then, I would stay away from the walkthrough by creating a new schedule. In other words, during the 9 years, I didn't consistently playing Dark Souls for all 9 years of time.

The following are Dark Souls Character Creation timeline: 2015 Jo: I created Jo as the first character on early 2015. The build is to focus on Vitality for HP. Endurance for Stamina and Equipment Load. High enough Faith to learn Miracles. The Miracles I was focusing on are the Great Lightning Spear and Great Magic Barrier. Seiori Phan & Sarah Phan: I created Seiori Phan as the second character on mid 2015. Weeks later, I created Sarah Phan as the third character. The plan is have both of the characters at the same time to able to have a chance to try out all the weapons available in Dark Souls. Seiori's build focus on Intelligence and Dexterity. Have high Intelligence to learn all the available sorcery spells. Have fairly high Dexterity for the combined effects of Intelligence and Dexterity. As for Sarah, high enough Strength to use all the available weapons that require Strength. In addition, she will also learn all the available Pyromancy. Jo, Seiori, and Sarah would able to learn all the available weapons. Including Sorcery and Pyromancy. The exception is not all the Miracles. The stopping point is after the dinner and talk with my father on December 2015. In the talk, he told me he still sees me as his son. 2019 Alyssa Recford: On 2019, I created Alyssa Recford as the fourth character. The focus is on 1 primary attribute, Dexterity. Instead have to self-pressured myself to learn all the weapons like on 2015. After weeks of time, I was looking for reasons to come to a stopping point. The reason I found was the Sunlight Medal could only be acquired Online. So, I used that reason to come to a stopping point. 2023 I decided it is time to finish up the Dark Souls walkthrough. I decided 3 characters for 3 primary attributes, Intelligence, Dexterity, and Strength. Alessa: Alessa will be the Dexterity character. Alicia: Alicia will be the Intelligence character. Quelaag: Quelaag will be the Strength character. When I started having problems making funds in my fundraising, so I decided to come a stopping point. Present, 2024 Today as I'm writing this announcement, for the last weeks, I continues where I left on Alessa, Alicia, and Quelaag. I have about 18 hours of video walkthrough for each of the 3 characters. A total of 54 hours video walkthrough.

To Be Continue Like I wrote in Announcement 01 & 02, in my current situation, I felt like I'm being rushed all over the places. Also, like I wrote in Announcement 01 & 02, I want to gives myself a chance to stop rushing myself. I will continue writing more announcement. Check back for more announcement.

[phlistopher]

Change of Blood

I wrote a humor column in college for the Hofstra Chronicle under the pseudonym Silence Doless, a nod to Benjamin Franklin I didn't come up with.

I was very proud of this work at the time. It's all very Hofstra specific, and the mid 2000s. Against my better judgement, I've decided to republish the series here.

This is the seventh cringe article, originally printed December 7th, 2007. Commentary at the end.

Last week I challenged University President Stuart Rabinowitz to a duel. The rules were simple: no lasers, no cheating and no wimping out. I waited patiently at the designated place and time, yet Rabinowitz failed to show, thus breaking two of the agreed-upon rules. I’m sure he would have broken all three if it were possible to fight with lasers while cheating and chickening out. This could have been because I said the meeting place was at the quad, and apparently there’s more than one on campus (why didn’t anyone inform me of this?! I’m looking at you, editors). That, or maybe our president is a lily-livered, yellow-bellied, pants-wetting wiener. Whatever the case may be, I hereby decide that his conduct was dishonorable. As punishment, I shall ignore him for the rest of the column.

Have you ever wanted to be something, or someone, you’re not? Have you ever thought, “Oh, if I was only this other person or had these certain attributes, everything would work out for me”? Perhaps you imagine yourself as a famous actor, thinking, “Wow, if only I was Danny DeVito my life would be great!”

Personally, I’ve always wanted to be Native American. Why, you may ask? Because it’s badass. Think of the perks. You could walk to the front of any line in the country and if anyone gives you guff just say, “I was here first!” Guaranteed to work every time. Also, you can have a lot of fun with scalping puns outside concert venues. And by “a lot of fun” I mean “have a lot of people pissed at you.” If this happens, just scalp them (by which I mean sell them a ticket…to an Atlanta Braves game! The fans will do the rest).

Native American culture is also very rich, heavily emphasizing a symbiosis with nature which has been all but lost in today’s hyper-developed society. With all these benefits, there must be a catch, right? I mean, why wouldn’t you want to become Native American?

The truth is, there is no catch. The hard part is actually changing your ethnicity. Hard, yes, but impossible? Quite possibly. But I for one am not ready to give up. What is the most essential element of ethnic identity? That’s right, blood. If blood denotes brotherhood, motherhood, sisterhood and Hepatitis C, it can damn well denote ethnicity-hood. All the clichés about blood being thicker than water affirm that this is true.

So in light of this, I propose a startling new medical operation to swap the ethnicities of two people through blood transfusions. With said blood transfusions you could exchange blood with a person of the desired ethnicity; in this case a Native American. If your doctor had a high powered compressor you could transfer large quantities of blood at a time, making it possible to become as much as half Cherokee in a single visit! Of course, you’d have to find a full-blooded Cherokee willing to become half “Crazy blood-lusting whacko wannabe.” But this is in the future, my friends. This is a future where everyone can be whatever, and whomever they want (especially Danny DeVito), whenever they want (especially 10 years ago).

Critics may argue that this is nonsense. “Why can’t people just be satisfied with who they are?” they may ask, “Besides, the technology for blood transfusions is still decades away.”

Sometimes I think they’re right. Sometimes I think, “We’re all 99.9 percent the same genetic material, what’s the difference anyway?” Then I realize that that is just the Apes talking, who would have us believe that we share 98 percent of our genetics with them. Convincing us of this would enable them to infiltrate our society, posing as Rogaine test patients (or Robin Williams) and from there, take over the world giving them free reign to finally achieve their ultimate goal: sinking the Statue of Liberty into the beach.

I would be extremely mad at those damn dirty Apes if I didn’t want to be one so bad. Man, if I was a gorilla I’d kick Rabinowitz’s ass! Those dishonorable walls won’t hide you from my 12 pound fists, shorty!

And now I’ve broken my own ignoring rules. That’s okay, at least I didn’t wimp out.

As the person who wrote this, even I have to say this is really hard to follow. Plus, even more importantly, it’s not clear enough that I’m the butt of the joke with becoming Native American, and the whole thing is again just sweaty and gross. Why am I republishing these?

[the-invisible-queer]

https://www.vulture.com/article/jolene-covers-ranked-dolly-parton.html

Personally I think that #4 should be #1, but that's just my own personal soft spot for Brandi Carlile

LET'S GET INTO IT! That article had 37 covers. I chose 14 based on the artists I was familiar with but I'm only doing top 13 because my 14th spot was underwhelming.

Also I shortened it a bit because I wrote SO MUCH. Might save the longer ramblings for a post on my blog.

13. Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Performance

LET ME START BY SAYING I am a fan of all the ladies included in this version, however it felt like there were too many cooks in the kitchen and EYE wasn't a fan.

If they just had the ladies and eliminated the men maybe I'd have enjoyed it better because honestly the men didn't add as much as the ladies.

12. Pentatonix ft. Dolly Parton

Brandi Carlisle and Pink both have my consent. That's all. Thank you.

If Brandi has a solo cover I would rank it higher honestly. Might break top 5 for me.

I adore Pentatonix so much. Scott killed it with his vocals, as he always does! I love all of their covers and having Dolly with them was iconic. Dolly's voice with Scott, Mitch and Kristen's was *chef's kiss*

11. Olivia Newton-John ft. Dolly Parton

FIRST OF ALL REST IN PEACE TO THE QUEEN!

I listened to this cover when it first came out and I loved it then and I love it now revisiting it. Their voiced work SO well together. They both aged so gracefully as did their voices. Both so fucking talented for no reason.

10. Postmodern Jukebox ft. Maris

Maris' voice is incredible and serves this cover WELL! I love PMH so much - if you follow me on IG you'd see I post their covers to my story often. I am so in love with Scott Bradlee's skill in arranging all of these covers so beautifully. The paino in this cover is amazing. We stan PMJ in this household.

9. Trixie Mattel

This was an IG live (I believe) so it's not the best quality, but that doesn't change that it is an incredible cover. DROP THE STUDIO VERSION, TRIXIE! The acoustic simplicity of it goes a long way. We stan Trixie Matel hardcore in this household.

8. Kelly Clarkson

Kelly Clarkson could sing anything and I'll be listening til the end of TIME! Despite the simplicity of the cover, her vocals still deliver a phenomenal performance. I would kill for her to release a studio version!

7. Reba McEntire (1989 live cover)

WE STAN REBA IN THIS HOUSEHOLD! Her voice is so pretty in this cover. I gotta start listening to her again. I love the vibe of this cover. I love her. I'm tell y'all I'm gonna get back into country music this year and I am so serious about it.

6. Beyonce

THE QUEEN POPPED OFF ON THIS VERSION! I just wanna know who pissed off Beyonce - we ride at dawn. Her vocals are INCREDIBLE, but it's Beyonce, did we expect anything less. She really said TRY ME BITCH!

And we haven't heard from Jolene since, now have we?

5. Chiquis, Becky G

FUCK ME UP!!!!!! EVERYTHING about this cover has me in a chokehold. Thank the gods for Latinas. BECKY G OWNS MY ASS! The lyrics (in Spanish might I add), the cumbia vibessss! UGH! Be still my queer Latine heart.

4. Maneskin with Dolly Parton

First of all I gotta admit that I am SO biased because Damiano's voice is one of my favorite voices of all time. Like top 3 favorite voices period. And if you listen to this cover, you will understand why. I have been holding off on listening to this cover because I didn't vibe with MA's last album and some of their more recent music. But after finally listening to this cover, they are welcome to win me back.

ALSO THOM'S GUITAR! I wish I had the vocabulary to talk about music. I just know when Thom plays guitar my brain goes dumb - in a good way because he's so fucking good.

3. Miley Cyrus

I know she did a more recent version with Jimmy Fallon, but I can't fucking stand him so I spared myself. Plus Miley has always been incredible so it doesn't matter if the cover was last year or ten years ago. It'd be top tier either way.

She is so fucking good for NO reason. Her voice! FUCK ME UP, MILEYYYYYYYY! I have no coherent thoughts about this cover other than it is s-tier, which is why it's top 3.

2. The White Stripes

Jack White is one of my favorite songwriters of all time and overall artists of all time. I KNOW my Spotify no longer reflects that, but he is the first name that pops into my head when someone asks me who my favorite artist is.

This has been one of my favorite covers of "Jolene" for YEARS and held the #1 spot until the current #1 spot dropped. Jack's vocals are rough and raw. The cover does a great job paying homage to the original, but Jack and Meg still made it THEIR OWN!

I honestly love it so fucking much. As someone who usually HATES covers, this is one of my top covers in general.

1. Lil Nas X

This is hands down my favorite cover of the song since it dropped. I worship the ground Lil Nas X walks on. We do not deserve him. We are blessed to just exist in the same timeline as the same time as him.

The vibes of this cover. The way he sings it lower than most people do. It gives me goosebumps. It's just so fucking good for no reason.

The performance of this cover is unmatched. He sounds so worn out. Like he's done fighting. This is his last desperate attempt to keep his man.

WE MOTHERFUCKING STAN!

[tilbageidanmark]

Movies I watched this Week # 142 (Year 3/Week 38):

“Wasson?…”

Mark Kermore just resigned from his post as The Observor's film critic after 10 years, and in his last article he listed his top films from 2013 until now. His most favourite? Bait, which he called “the defining British film of the decade”, by new Cornish filmmaker Mark Jenkin. It is indeed a visually-different, experimental-like masterpiece, shot in splotchy black & white, like a grainy, monochrome Tarkovsky. 100% on Rotten Tomatoes. 8/10. I'll watch his recent film 'Enys Men' next (even though I don't usually care for 'British Folk Horror').

🍿

2 about the monstrous Margaret Thatcher:

🍿 Meantime, my 9th beloved film by British mensch Mike Leigh, another story about the plight of a lower working class family, living in a dystopian Clockwork Orange tenement. Uncomfortable viewing about dreary, miserable lives, mired in poverty and hopelessness during the 1979 "Revolution". With teenager Tim Roth, young Alfred Molina, and psychotic skinhead Gary Oldman. Tragic And heartbreaking. 7/10.

🍿 El Conde, my second by Chilean Pablo Larrain (after 'Spencer'). A black comedy horror metaphor that tried to humanize Augusto Pinochet, by making him a blood-sucking vampire. Like 'Jojo Rabbit', it caused me nothing but distress, especially now on the 50th anniversary of Pinochet cruel coup. It opened with the most unpleasant voiceover, which turned out to be Margaret Thatcher, the other despicable puppet master from that time, here playing the fascist's mother. He went for Magical Realism, but he was no Gabriel García Márquez. 4/10.

🍿

The quiet girl, my 3rd or 4th re-watch of this tender, magnificent gem, one of my most cherished films from 2022. An illustration of Care vs. Neglect. My mom told me about this beautiful story she was reading, and which was the basis for this film, and I was delighted to introduce her to this sublime masterpiece, which we watched together. 10/10.

🍿

First watch! Charlie Chaplin's 1915 silent movie The tramp, the first time he introduced his signature character proper. Filmed in Niles, California, which is today Fremont, and then was a budding film town.

🍿

Objector, a very Israeli 2019 documentary about a young woman who refuses to serve in the army, becomes a conscientious objector, and even serves 110 days in a military prison. As an ex-Israeli and as a guy unwilling to join the army in 1970, this affair was specifically very relevant to me. My hatred for the Israeli occupation is immense, and the story told here was desperately tragic and heartbreaking. Unfortunately, as a movie, it wasn’t very good, probably because the director was inexperienced. That most of the characters spoke English among themselves was another big drawback.

🍿

I never heard about comic genius ventriloquist Nina Conti (Tom Conti's daughter) until finding her on r/nextfuckinglevel. Watching a bunch of her YouTube clips, this pretty, sexy, hilarious comic is superbly creative. In 2012, she wrote and directed a personal documentary, Her master’s Voice. In it she travels to an odd international ventriloquist convention in Kentucky (Photo Above). But it's mostly a tribute to a man, Ken Campbell, who just died. He's the one who had introduced her to the puppets years ago but he also was her lover, when she was in her twenties, and he was in his sixties. Brilliant. 9/10.

🍿

Another re-watch of occasional random 'Mad Men' episode, Signal 30 from S5 E5. That's the one with the dripping faucet in Pete's kitchen, and the visit to the whorehouse, which ends in a fiasco. Co-written by Frank Pierce (who also directed 'Conspiracy'). Another example of the superb ensemble drama, featuring dozens of complex characters. "A thing like that"... 9/10.

🍿

Jeff who lives at home, my second film directed by the Duplass Brothers, the "other" writer-director brother-duo. And this too is an "indie" comedy-drama about two brothers at odds with each other. What a different and how much better film it would have been, if indeed The Coens were the ones doing it. 3/10.

🍿

2012, a Roland Emmerich's big budget disaster extravaganza from 2009, about the end of the world. CGI science fiction popcorn is usually not my gig, but I stuck out and watched all 158 minutes of it. Who pays to see these kind of mindless garbage movies? 1/10.

🍿

Throw-back to the "Art project”:  

Ahed Tamimi Adora.

Ventriloquist Adora.

🍿  

(My complete movie list is here)