#Jim’s childish enjoyment of the world

[daydreamerdrew]

Marvel Comics (1939) #1

[bookaddict24-7]

I said at the beginning of the year that I would share my reviews more on my blog instead of just on Instagram and Goodreads. I’ve been reading a lot so far this year, so my reviews will be delayed on here. I’ll hopefully post five (mini-ish) reviews per week!

Friend me on Goodreads here to read my reviews in real-time!

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26. The Wide Window by Lemony Snicket--⭐���⭐️⭐️⭐️

“This book was DARK. Those eels? No, thanks. I feel really bad for these kids. If this were a true story, I would be writing an essay on just how badly adults failed them. But it’s great that they have each other. I’ll hopefully be reading the next book in February!”

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27. Beneath the Sugar Sky by Seanan McGuire--⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

“This one, despite the language and a few scenes, felt a lot younger than the other two. I think it’s because one of the characters is super childish, although she is very similar to a character from book one. I did enjoy visiting another world and seeing how the rules change in each one. Also, we met one character in this one that I definitely want to read more of in the future! This was my least favourite one so far, but hopefully I’ll like the next one better!”

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28. We Are Okay by Nina LaCour--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

“I finally picked this one up and it was as heartbreaking as I was expecting it to be. This was such a great exploration of grief and how it affects us all differently. The MC actually mentioned something near the end that broke my heart because it gave us a sense of how a certain level of hope is enough to pause our moments of grief—whether it’s for the best or not. When you go into this, bring some tissues.”

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29. The Year of the Witching by Alexis Henderson--⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

“This book wasn't at all what I was expecting and honestly, that's fine! I didn't read the synopsis and guessed the story beforehand based on the cover, aha. I think the premise is intriguing, but I wish there had been a better exploration of the magic. I think there was a lot of potential in this one, but seeing that it's the first book in a series eases that frustration. Also, can we talk about how there's a scene near the end that happens and is barely talked about? I was waiting for scenes like that earlier in the book because the antagonists were awful. I did like the exploration of the toxicity behind cults. There's a strange sense of satisfaction when the leaders of said cults are proved wrong. Overall, this was enjoyable if you like some spookiness in your books and if you like the subtlest of romances because the main focus of the book isn't about who the MC will end up with. Also, I know that this is shelved in Fantasy, but this felt more like a YA fantasy novel, so keep that in mind when you jump into it.”

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30. Death Masks by Jim Butcher--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

“Okay, this one is my favourite so far! I loved the intro and the humour is something that always pulls me back to this series! I love Harry and he’s really growing on me. I also loved that this one gave him a sense of closure—like he can finally move on to something better in his life (romantically.) I love how elaborate this series is and how it’s shaping up to be. Can’t wait for the next book!”

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Have you read any of these books? Would you recommend them? 

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Happy reading!

[bobdylanrevisited]

Good As I Been To You

Released: 3 November 1992

Rating: 7/10

Following a difficult decade, Bob continued to tour and increasingly introduced standard folk covers to his nightly set list. He eventually recorded them and released two albums of these traditional tunes within a year, which helped to restore some of his musical and critical reputation after his embarrassing nursery rhyme disaster. This first album is fairly good despite the ghastly cover artwork. It harks back to his debut record, and every track is simply just Bob with his harmonica and guitar. As the whole album is made up of covers, I’ll just sum up Bob’s performance rather then delving into the history of these ballads.

1. Frankie & Albert - The first thing that stands out is Bob’s guitar playing, which is skilled and sounds great. It creates a brilliant folky atmosphere, and coupled with his weathered voice, it takes you back in time to decades before. It certainly doesn’t sound like this record is from the 1990s.

2. Jim Jones - I love Bob’s story telling here. It can be a little whiny and won’t be for everyone, but it’s the most impassioned he’s sounded for a while.

3. Blackjack Davey - This is probably the best song on the album, I love everything about it. The guitar sounds quite moody and is perfect for the subject of the song, as is Bob’s effortless delivery.

4. Canadee-i-o - Bob’s singing is fantastic here, it’s less nasal than on other songs and he gives an incredible performance.

5. Sittin’ On Top Of The World - That harmonica sound is just unbeatable. The rest of the song is your standard folk tune, which is not bad by any stretch of the imagination, but the mouth organ elevates it.

6. Little Maggie - Another great example of Bob’s skills on the fret board and love of tradition.

7. Hard Times - Whilst I love the more relaxed playing here, I must admit that Bob’s not in his best voice.

8. Step It Up And Go - A faster number, I’m not particularly a fan of this one, due to an unoriginal tune and fairly boring/novelty lyrics.

9. Tomorrow Night - This slow song is beautiful, Bob sounds woeful and desperate for his lover. The simple guitar elevates his voice and the lyrics, whilst the song also benefits again from some haunting harmonica.

10. Arthur McBride - A folk standard covered with no thrills and dedication, it sounds great.

11. You’re Gonna Quit Me - Another track where Bob sounds fantastic and several years younger than he was. I also love the tune and the lyrics on this one.

12. Diamond Joe - Much like the rest of the record, this is an enjoyable interpretation of a traditional ballad, the guitar and voice fit perfectly.

13. Froggie Went A Courtin’ - The album closes with the only song is actively dislike. My disdain isn’t due to the vocals or music, which are fine and performed well, but the lyrics are childish and actually irritate me. It’s a low note to end on and feels very out of place with the tracks above.

Verdict: This is a very decent folk album, not mind blowing or life changing, but it is a good example that Bob was still connected to his roots, and could still play and sing with the best of the troubadours. The simple and relaxed sound is very welcome after the overly complex releases that proceeded it, and it is a nice album to relax to as you are swept in the music of a time now forgotten. Less than a year later, Bob put out the second part of his folk revival duology, which would be darker, grittier and slightly more enjoyable.

[lcdid]

sound system music tastes

i just realized no one made this. weve been busy an were sick when we answered that please forgive us /lh

everyones music taste, along with playlists, under th cut

andromeda: listens mostly t indie music. alt-j, dissolve by absofacto, probly more it hasnt rmembered. playlist

apollo: similar taste. a little all over th place, but just needs t be guided. into one million lovers by th growlers and gorillaz. playlist

azrael: classic rock (mostly 70s) and indie music as well. most of his songs are depressin but its okay. music has guided everythin skeks done since skeks been host. playlist

boober: i dunno how t describe his taste but its very cohesive. ummm. bluegrass and songs about strife. he really likes the o brother where art thou soundtrack an i bet hed listen t country if it was sad enough. playlist

bowie: caramelladansen and probly nightcore. that kinda shit

coyle: th only band coyle listens to is studio killers. good for him.

ezra: mostly listens to old metal. likes loud things in his ears t distract from th world around im. playlist

gabriel: favourite song is 40 winks by griffinilla. yes th pony song. probly similar tastes t andromeda

jacob: lots of slow guitar, sometimes haunting. favourite song is soldier, poet, king by the oh hellos. playlist

jamison: favourite band is icp. slow rap, basically. things you cn play overwatch to. also some sad jams. go unironic juggalo go. playlist

janus: only song hes really liked is fallin (temptation) by grandson. make of that what you will

jim: favourite song is hollow log by beck because of that fucking video of th frog. also a grateful dead enjoyer. playlist

koshka: m*lanie m*rtinez enjoyer. trauma music

mako: listens mostly t hard metal. g*regrind an so on. but also enjoys vocaloid music and th minecraft soundtrack. playlist

mokey: mitski listener. slightly resistant t listenin t bands with a male lead.

the outcast: sorry buddy. listens to comus and nothin else. favourite song is diana. massive tw for comuss content

the pathfinder: ocean man by ween

pink: lo-fi music. ykwim? by yot club and let go by ark patrol. cant listen t music thats too loud cuz itll irritate im. playlist

roger: i dunno how t explain rogers taste aside from boy in love. playlist

rose: like 2015 homestuck songs. imogen heap, regina spektor. also cosmo sheldrake? playlist

scott: i dunno how t explain this either. 2017 animatic animation meme music. billie eilish and kikuo. playlist

the chamberlain: a little hellish. ranges from “orchestral pieces from a bloody suite” t “song that is just about b/ds/m”. playlist

the scientist: very 2015 emo kid music. seether specially, an black hole sun. might be int steampunk. playlist

sketch: listens mostly t funk. also somewhat of a grateful dead enjoyer. favourite album is awaken, my love! by childish gambino. playlist

waters: prefers music with lots of bass. kind of a snob. very impartial towards his own music. playlist

our safe bands are glass animals and pink floyd!

[revchainsaw]

Sonic: The Hedgehog (2020)

Sonic: The Hedgehog (2020)

Greeting my flock of film freaks and welcome again to the Cult of Cult. Todays offering is a bit more of the mainstream blockbuster variety, but as films based on Video Games are still actually quite niche and vastly underestimated I think we should open our hearts to Sonic: The Hedgehog and hope that we find it a pleasing tithe to the cult. I am your beloved minster, The Reverend Chainsaw, and welcome to today’s service.

The Message

I must confess to the congregation that I was drinking mighty heavily of the lord’s Tennessee sour mash when I was taking in this movie. That said, I think that this is a great movie to have a drink with and I mean that in the best possible way. 

Sonic: The Hedgehog is of course based on the Sega video game franchise and stars Ben Schwartz as the titular blue rat. Schwartz brings his brand of high energy enthusiastic comedy to the voice role. While Schwartz is particularly on brand for Schwartz, is he on brand for Sonic? I’m not entirely sure, but I’m also not entirely sure I was ever in love with the old ways. I am not an avid fan or consumer of Sonic media and perhaps that means I am in a poor position to say. I am most familiar with the Sega games and Sonic cartoons from the 90s, and from what I have grasped the more recent entries with their more anime centric and high lore plots still owe quite a bit to the attitude era of the 90s. Sonic was a hero but he was also a bit of a cross between Mickey Mouse, the Flash, and Bart Simpson. As an angsty 90s boy I wanted to eat chili dogs and go very fast that was very appealing to me, but I’m not so sure it would be appealing to a vast audience of older millennials, or even todays kids. And though I think it would be a fair criticism to say that Ben Schwartz is playing sonic as basically the superhero version of his Dewey Duck from the VERY VERY good DuckTales reboot, I don’t think that it’s necessarily a bad thing. 

Dewey Duck the Hedgehog is a small mammal (also not a rodent, I wanted to say rodent and apparently hedgehogs are not rodents, just googled it) from an alien planet where his adoptive mother, an owl named Long Claw, fears that he will be hunted for his special powers, which I think is just super speed but it might be other things. In line with these concerns after an attack by pursuers Longclaw gives Sonic the Moses treatment and floats the special blue boy down the metaphorical river. Unlike Moses, however, Sonic is not found by ultra rich ultra powerful extra special people but is instead alone. Sonic lives alone in exile outside a small American town as a sort of local cryptid.

Thus begins a charming adventure. Through a poor decision to use his powers while working out some personal issues, Sonic inadvertantly draws the attention of the U.S Government and their nasty big brain baddy Dr. Robotnik. Sonic recruits a small town police officer with big city dreams to assist him in finding his magic rings so that he might flee from earth to an uninhabited mushroom kingdom. 

Now about these two human characters. Officer Everyman is played by cyclops from the X-men franchise. The actors name escapes me and so does the characters, and while, yes, I just looked up if hedgehogs were rodents, I will not be looking up this information. I like the review better this way. It makes me laugh. And while I don’t remember his name, I do remember that he used to live In Mt. Juliet, TN.  Anyway, what you should know about Officer Goodguy is that he drives a Toyota Tacoma!

That Toyota Tacoma is also continuously abused by the mad machinations of our films biggest draw: Jim Carey as Dr. Robotnik. If we were to pitch a Sonic movie, I don’t think anyone would jump to Jim Carey as the must have for the role, but after seeing this film, boy was it the best choice. The way he chews the scenery and plays off the rest of the cast and situations is just so much fun to watch. It’s fantastic to see Jim Carey back in a larger than life role. The Decision to play Jim Carey as the kind of condescending nerd who has taken their lack of social skills and leaned in as opposed to working on themselves was a brilliant choice. We’ve all known that kind of guy who tries to play the misanthrope just because they are too egotistical to recognize their flaws. Here Dr. Robotnik has given up on human connection in favor of subordination. His intellect is his only value, and thus he demands everyone around him acknowledge intellect as the only quality that matters as he has. It was a great choice.

From the point the chase begins the film becomes a road trip flick, and despite the fact that Sonic could supposedly cover the distance required in the blink of an eye we watch the ins and outs of our heroes relationship as they learn what home, and being a hero mean to them. By the climax it is pretty by the numbers, Sonic has come to feel at home on Earth and now that he has friends who care for him they can begin to make a world from which neither will have to flee; and of course, they beat the bad guy. FOR NOW. we are treated to an even crazier Dr. Robotnik stranded in the Fungus Dimension bent on revenge.

The Benediction

Now for all things Holy and Profane in this film, please rise for the Benediction.

Best Scandal: Sonic the Cosmic Horror

The original look of this film was mired in dread when the early footage and trailers dropped revealing a hideously uncanny hedgehog monster in the form of sonic. The memes are amazing, the toys are unsettling, there’s still plenty of Quasimodo Sonic stuff out there floating on the web and I suggest that you search it out, the laughter is good for your heart. Also if anyone wants to send me any creepy sonic merch I’ll take it. 

Thanks to the work of online fans and internet harassments, the studio felt it was going to lose money on the project and reeled back the release allowing for the design department to give us a more cartoony but less frightening alien monster. I mean he’s a cartoon, it’s okay for him to look like a cartoon. 

Best Scene: Noodle Dance

It’s hard to choose, and it feels a bit biased, but there are a few scenes with Dr. Robotnik that are just what make the movie more than a forgettable IP adaptation. Not that Ben Schwartz wasn’t doing great as the character but I feel Sonic as a whole would be lost in the milieu of CG spectacles and Super Hero Origin stories that we are bombarded with every year if not for Jim Carey’s performances; and even with them Sonic: The Hedgehog is not completely out of those woods. That said, I think Dr. Robotnik’s Alone Time Dance Party has to be the stand out sequence in my memory. I can’t really speak to what makes it so enjoyable, but damn if it isn’t just the best scene in the movie.

Best Character: Silicon Valley Dr. Robotnik

Do I even need to say it? It’s Dr. Robotnik. I’m not a fan of this villain from any other media. I always found Dr. Robotniks look unappealing, I’m not a huge fan of his powers, or using robot henchman. it always struck me as pretty boring how Sonic didn’t have a cool rogues gallery (i’m talking about 90s sonic) the way Mario did. However, they did something with the design, characterization, and performance that just made him such a fun villain. Also, my friend Jacksons mom said I looked like him and it didn’t hurt my feelings so.

Best Actor: Jim Carey

Jim Carey. It really seems like he’s all I’m talking about in this movie. Once again, I think Ben Schwartz did great and Sonic IS basically Dewey Duck in this movie. Dewey Duck is my favorite part of the rebooted DuckTales series, BUT he is just outmaneuvered by Jim Carey in this role. I think it’s a compliment enough to say that Ben Schwartz was even able to keep up with his energy, let alone play his quicker perkier foil. 

Worst Scene: Toyota Tacoma Commercial

Sonic: the Hedgehog’s worst scene would probably have to be the forced friend fight between Sonic and Officer Wachowski  during the car chase. It’s an overproduced weightless car chase scene with a contrived buddy cop controversy meant to force apart our heroes so that they can ultimately grow a little and come back together later in the movie. Not that I mind a movie like this to be so by the numbers, but it just felt like two of the blandest things on this movies plate being forced into one scene. I do like the idea of giving me the crap part of the dish in one flavorless generic bite, but that still doesn’t save it from being the worst scene in the movie. 

That Toyota Tacoma took a beating though.

Worst Feature: Nothing Ventured/ Nothing Earned

I’m sure many fans would feel that the worst feature of the film is that it isn’t loyal to any previous lore laden version of the character, (probably the one they like the most). In the portrayals of both Sonic and Dr. Robotnik there were decisions made that drastically differed from the ways they have been portrayed before. Sonic is naïve and idealistic, a bit childish, Dr. Robotnik is driven by a lot of insecurity. Where are the Chaos Crystals and my original character Grindy the Wolf Cub?

But I think that these are over all positive choices in a film that otherwise chose to play it incredibly safe. In their cautious approach to appeal to the widest possible audience the film makers gave us a pleasant and appealing cartoon romp but we are left with little to hold on to. The worst feature of Sonic: The Hedgehog is it’s safety.

Summary:

Sonic: The Hedgehog is often touted as “the first good video game movie”. A label that I disagree with wholeheartedly. It is certainly a good video game movie, but it’s not the first, and it is not by leaps and bounds better than other video game movies as a whole. It’s a sub genre that gets a ton of disrespect, and in a world where the biggest criticism levied against the Super Mario Bros is that it’s not a faithful adaptation, I don’t understand how Sonic the Buddy Cop/ Road Trip comedy is escaping that attitude.

All that said, I had a good time with this movie. But it felt like playing on the playground as a toddler. You have fun and then you leave and you don’t really remember what you played or who with. I’ll think about Jim Carey and Dewey Duck, but I had a hard time hating or loving anything this movie did in any strong way. I usually feel that a movie that is “bad” or “corny” or “shlocky” is always better than a movie that is generic, or pointless, or boring. Sonics pleasantness and cheerful energy just barely save it from being another Transformers franchise. I get that origin stories are hard, so I’m eagerly awaiting the next installment, and hopefully it’s going to do something that sets it apart. Probably not. 

Overall Grade: C

James Marsden! I just remembered!

[bowieandqueen11]

i have bad cramps right now and it will hurt to walk every now and then so can i request roger helping his s/o with getting dressed and going anywhere ?? and if they’re headed out him just constantly checking up on her ?? i really need fluff lmao

I’m so sorry darling I hate cramps they’re the worst!! But the best medicine is loads of fluff!!

You groan slightly, grunting awake as you shift against the cold cotton sheets that burn against your skin, your insides feeling like they’re being licked by thin streams of fire. You flinch, your eyes closing against the harsh beams of spring sunlight that fall through the half-closed Venetian blinds and hit your pupils as bright as the great stream of stars that flow through the darkest air. You sigh helplessly as you feel the cramps begin to rumble in your abdomen, flinching in on yourself as they stab like sharp spears piercing your skin, your head beginning to pound with the pain.

Curling into the fetus position, not even tempted to try and step out of the bed and into the bathroom, you don’t see Roger run in, sliding on the hard oak floor and tripping over his feet onto the bed, wearing nothing but light blue pyjama buttons and carrying a fuzzy dinosaur hot water bottle. He leans over you, his upside down head popping into your vision as your eyes flutter open, his mouth wide in a warm smile and eyes beaming as his hair falls down in straw straggles like a flying cherub. His strong arms begin to rub against your shoulders as he plops down against his feathery pillows, his bare skin coming to rest against your back as he kisses your neck, whispering a hoarse, ‘good morning, love. You were groaning a lot in your sleep last night so, for once in my life, I’m going to take care of you like you take care of me so well.’

The muscles of his chest twitch against your back as he shifts slightly, one slender arm dancing over your waist to rest against your abdomen, drawing soothing circles into your skin, grinning whenever you moaned in relief as his hands worked magic, before replacing it with the furry hot water bottle. He grabs your hand, his fingers gently tugging on yours as he gazes out the window, his blue eyes shining like sun beans reflecting off the calm azure ocean as he watches two thrushes hop off the branches of the nearby oak tree, their steps rustling the leaves gently before they fly off into the marshmallow clouds floating by like toy steam boats. He smiles contently, gazing down at you with such love as he strokes the stray hair out of your face, his free hand entangling in the curls as he gently runs his fingertips through your hair, finding childish enjoyment in playing with the strands that run between your fingers. 

He kisses the tip of your ear, his breath hot as it trembles out into the air, saying ‘we don’t have to meet Brian today if you’re not up for it, love’. You half-heatedly shake your head, making Roger shake his in peals of laughter, before he gently pulls you up into his welcoming chest, his skin hard and cool as you melt into his embrace. He leaves you setting at the edge of the bed, collapsed against the heat of the water bottle as your feet lightly swing over the side as he changes into a striped black shirt and denim shirts, shaking his hips cheekily and turning back to throw you over dramatic winks and waggling eyebrows as he pulls the shirt over the rippling muscles of his shoulders. He steps forward to raise you up gently, his hands grasping underneath your elbows as his fingers then go down to dance against the edge of your pyjama shirt, failing to pull it over your head and instead giggling as it becomes entangled in your arms. 

You huff in slight amusement as he falls down onto one knee with a plop, looking up at you for confirmation before tugging over your trousers, lifting your heels one at a time, as softly as melting butter and tossing them onto the bed. He spends the next ten minutes picking out an outfit for you, flashing you amused looks as you groan at some of his fashion matching disasters before sweeping you into his arms and trying to dress you without losing skin contact. It was a long twenty minutes before he finally managed it, running to the bedside table to grab his keys and fumble them into the back pocket of his jeans before winking at you, holding out one arm which you gladly entwined with your own.

You spent a mellow afternoon with Brian and Roger, with John on holiday in Bali and Freddie in Germany with Jim, lying in the park underneath the setting sun, the orange hues of the spring day lighting up the sky. As the sun behind the fleeting grey clouds, the warmth of dusk began to settle in your bones as Roger wrapped one arm around your shoulder, his sunglasses askew as he threw his head back, laughter erupting from his cherry lips at a silly story Brian had just told. The charcoal-black rocks circled around small stream of water by Brian’s side makes him look fairy-like, the water shimmering confidently against his broad back, as swans floated by gracefully, thin blades of grass crunching underneath his bottom as he mooched on the picnic blanket, sipping a small glass of orange juice. He leans back against the willow tree, his curls shaking as he looks knowingly at Roger and smiles. Roger gazes down at you, his eyes crinkling as he drinks you in, his heart thumping as his hand caresses up and down your palm, worry flecking his eyes from time to time as he checks you’re alright. As you smile up at him, comfortable in his arms and feeling at peace with the world as the wind brushes against your face, distracting you momentarily from the pain in your stomach, you sigh out and let the sounds of nature, the ripples of water and slight chirps of crickets surround you, knowing you would be safe in Roger’s clinging arms. 

[empathicstars]

Nothing More Important

  It’d been a long, grueling, impossible fifty hours. Longer and more grueling and more impossible, believably, than Neoma’d expected it to be. After all, how difficult was it to find a singular officer in a world where identification was required for everything one did?

  Apparently, difficult. She’d been awake and running around the base since 2100 hours on, uh... --... how many days ago was it? One, two? It was hard to keep track. All Neoma could remember any longer was the pounding of her feet on pavement, of the crisp air that felt drier and drier the longer she was out in it, of the feeling of brick beneath her fingers and metal against her arms as she climbed and scaled the impressive base in search. The teams by her side had switched off five separate times, and more than once someone had attempted to relieve her.

  But she’d made a promise. She told them she’d bring her back.

  And she would.

  Doctors marveled at how she was passing each examination they ran on her in attempts to force her to take her leave. She didn’t seem to be tired, and any scrapes or bruises were beyond minor. What she’d told Jim just before he drifted to sleep was true: she didn’t get sore. But that didn’t mean that spending fifty hours wide awake, soothing every officer she came into contact with, and walking the length of one of the Federation’s biggest bases multiple times over was enjoyable or restful for her. ( That didn’t mean that part of her wasn’t still shaking from an encounter with a limp body in a river, that her disagreements with all of those close to her wasn’t burning a coldness somewhere hard in the back of her throat. )

  Ah, Jim… Fuck. When he learned about this disaster, she was sure he’d staunchly refuse to ever sleep again. And after all her hard work. Ancestors. It felt like all of her effort with everyone was coming up to nothing, now. Encouraging Reg out of his shell, building and mending a relationship with John, her friendship with Luci, Jim… ancestors, she was tired.

  Part of her wondered, briefly, if she could convince Spock to keep all of this on the down low from him -- especially now that it was over. But she didn’t have to know him very well at all to know that that wasn’t an option.

  But at least it was over. At least it wasn’t like waking up on Corvid.

  At least this was a nightmare that would end.

  After checking every Federation and non-Federation ship, the Institute, all of Yorktown… after climbing every building, sliding under every tree, dipping herself deep into water and barging in through every library… Neoma had decided, on a whim, to check for Liana on incoming ships, and was rather floored when it worked. An Aella -- not Liana -- Moore was on a non-Federation supply ship, heading back to Yorktown, and Neoma was going to be there when she docked. It only took a few calls to the captain of that ship to put together the pieces. Liana’d beamed on from a civilian transporter, rather than a Starfleet-specific one -- a transporter that dealt with such a large volume of use that it had no choice but to delete profiles of those who passed through it -- to his ship. She’d been on the base and had been trying to find another ship to lead her elsewhere. It was only a half a day, it seemed, before she’d buckled internally, admitted to him that she’d snuck aboard his ship before shields went up, and requested to take the next return trip with him. He’d agreed, and now she was less than twenty minutes from docking.

  And so, here Neoma stood. Waiting for her. In a bustle of laughing, chattering people, moving swiftly and gleefully throughout a shuttle bay. Her pole collapsed at the magnetic belt on her side, her arms crossed, her hair pulled back into a fishtail braid that she thought maybe looked alright whenever she’d done it. She tugged at the tie to let it free from its mess, let her hair fall around her, catch briefly in the wind.

  For a moment, it was almost too easy to believe that Liana wouldn’t show up, after all. That the information had been a farce. That she’d reported Liana’s recovery prematurely, and she’d have to resume activities again. That this was a break, and not the end.

  But relief touched some distant part of her when she spotted a thin figure walking through the crowds. Dressed in a long white dress, a single book clutched to her chest, as though it’d protect her from the reality she was about to face. Ancestors, Liana looked about as shitty as Neoma felt. Black hollows beneath her eyes, pale, paper-thin skin, body bent in on itself. She stared at the floor with the same guilty expression Meeth wore when he knew he’d done something wrong.

  The same expression her girls had had…

  Neoma breathed out. Released the fifty hours that’d passed -- released the memory of Amila and Naith pouting -- and focused on the start of this hour, focused on the face of this girl.  

  The security officer reached out, palm up, and waited until the kid’d walked to her side to drape her arm around her shoulders. She felt Liana stiffen beneath the contact of the half-hug, but Neoma still leaned forward to distribute a kiss in her hair.

  “Welcome back, Liana.”

  Liana’s head tilted up so painfully slowly -- and when their eyes met, everything in the kid’s face was open, childish, shocked. She was round, and gentle, and small, and… Ancestors, she looked like she was about eleven years old. “H… i.”

  Neoma squeezed her with one arm. “You really gave us a fright, you know.”

  “I… I did?”

  The confusion would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so heartbreaking. Maybe still would’ve been if Neoma hadn’t spent the better part of these past few days fighting that fright.

  She smiled, instead of answering -- tapped her with her thumb and began leading her away from the ships. “Where were you off to?” Conversational. Light.

 Liana stared back down, once again. Felt a little bit closer to Neoma than she had moments before. “I don’t…” Nearly choked. “I do not know. Just… away. As far away as possible.”

  “Well,” with humor in her teeth, “you know, if you want to go far away, the Enterprise is a great place to do it.”

  Liana’s lips flattened, and she ducked her head further, but it somehow read almost as a small smile might.

  They walked for a bit in silence, and, wow -- how good silence could sound. How good walking could feel! But what sounded even better, y’know, was conversation. Especially conversation that mattered. So…

  “I hear you don’t want to be a Betazoid. You don’t want to be an empath. That right?”

  She jolted, as though something horrific had been found out. “Y… yes.”

  “Why not?”

  The sounds of the crowd from the bay were beginning to disperse. It made her pause sound even louder. “I… I want to be normal. I want to be… like everyone else.”

  Ha. “You are like everyone else.”

  “No.” Her voice was dark, steady, so suddenly it was surprising. It was too much like the Aella Neoma’d met one time in a communications bay. “I am apart from them, and they from me.”

  “Apart?” Neoma’d never been fantastic at clamping at her humor -- and now was no exception. A hard laugh, rough and grainy and loud erupted from her.

  “W-- what is so funny?” Ah, there she was, again -- the petulant child annoyed with the humor she didn’t understand. ( So much like Amila. So much it burned. ) “That is not funny.”  

  “Ha… you really have no idea, huh?”

  “Of course I do not. That -- that is why I asked.”

  “No, no… I meant…” Okay. Stop smiling. Serious Neoma time. “Everyone’s been in a frenzy looking for you. Spock, Reg, John. Casper. ’Ve had to tie almost all of them back from going out to look for you.”

  “What? No -- no, you are -- you are lying.”

  “What’s the point in lying, Liana? Already got you here.”

  She paused. Perhaps, Neoma supposed, to consider that maybe it was true. “R… really?”

  “Really really. Do you know how many times I had to wrangle Spock into submission?”

  “The -- the commander?”

  “Unless there’s two of ‘em.”

  “But -- no! W… why would he…? No. He… he must be like this with everyone.”

  Neoma was able to temper her amusement back to a chuckle, this time. “Nah. He told me you two were close.”

  “What?” She was watching her, now.

  “Yup. He gave me a lot of invaluable information about where to look for you, too. I don’t think any of them’s gotten a lick of sleep since your disappearing act.”

  “I… oh, I…” Her shock fell into something else. Something small and sad, plain enough for even Neoma to get. “I did not mean to worry them. I did not know they would realize my absence. I -- I just wanted… to be free.”

  Free, huh? Neoma sighed -- probably came out more like a huff. Either way, the noise was low, rueful. She didn’t get it. Ties were the best part of life. Hadn’t she just said something like that in the comms a few days ago? Having a spot to call your own, and a sky you knew… that was precious. But…

  “Well, my girls wanted to see the stars. They wanted to be free so, so bad. But you don’t have to run away to see the stars. You’re… already in Starfleet.”

  “But I…” A frustrated breath from her. “I do not want to be.”

  “Why not?”

  “I… I do not like it! It is scary, and dangerous. I do not want to live on a ship. I… I do not want to be what she was.”

  “Ancestors, kid.” It came out before she could stop it. That she was so vehemently said. “She who?”

  Liana’s voice fell low, quiet and stripped and now anything but the acid she’d once tasted. “Aella.”

  Oh. Fuck. Well, okay. “Why are you separating them?”

  “What?”

  “You and her. Who you were and who you are. You’re the same people.”

  “N-- no! No!”

  Another one? Really? “Sorry, but… yeah.” Neoma recognized the wiggling -- like an animal wanting to be put down -- and so she stopped, turned to face her. Wherever they were now, it was quieter. Less clattering, less people. Neoma pressed both her palms into Liana’s shoulders, watched her shrink, slightly. “Listen to me.” She waited until her gaze lifted, even if was only minute at first. “I used to live beneath a volcano. I’d sleep with a burlap sack over my face, and wake to watch the guar. I hadn’t been ten miles from where I lived. I hated fighting. I just wanted to watch my guar in peace. Fabric like this…” She rubbed at Liana’s shoulders. “I’d never even seen it before. It was a whole different world. And now look at me. I’m a security officer out in space. Lightyears away from where I raised those guar. On ground that isn’t really ground. On a planet that’s not really a planet. Using technology, every day, when the most expensive thing I used to own was… I don’t know. Maybe my staff. And if you’d asked me then where I’d be now… I’d never see it. I’d never see this.”

  “Then how did you get here?” By now, Liana was staring at her. Her eyes were large, glassy, fixed. Neoma felt the weight of her attention keyed into every single word. “Why are you here?”

  “Things changed. Lot of things changed. And I got new perspective. And... I guess that’s what happened to you, too. No, you don’t know why you’d want to live on a ship, or be in Starfleet. No, it doesn’t make sense to you. But you don’t remember the perspective that made you want to be here. So of course you’re confused. Of course you’re lost. But what… what if you could rediscover that perspective? What if you could learn more about yourself?”

  The eyes staring back at her were brimming with tears, now. She opened her mouth twice -- two false-starts -- before she found her voice.

  “I… I am scared something would happen to me. To who I am. John tells me he has a Haliaan waiting to heal me… but I do not believe it will heal me. I believe it will kill me.”

  “Kill you?”

  “Who I am…” Her palm raised from her side, and she stared at it, pressed fingertips against it. “I will be gone. Another person will take her place.”

  “No. Hey, look at me. No. Same person. Just new perspective. Okay? And it’s not gonna be like a…” She lifted a hand, only for as long as it took her to snap. “... you know? You may get the perspective and decide… hey. I still want to go to the Institute. I still want to leave Starfleet. And then you can. But then you’ll know, too. And something like sensing someone’s emotions won’t set you off so much that you disappear.”

  Eyelashes fluttered, and a tear fell to Liana’s cheek. Neoma moved to wipe at it with the back of her hand. The kid’s eyes shuddered closed from the contact.

  “I’m not gonna make you stay in Starfleet, okay? It’s your life. But… if you’re going to leave, I’m gonna make you say goodbye.”

  It was supposed to sound almost jesting, that last sentence, but… Liana wasn’t opening her eyes. Wasn’t relaxing again. Fuck. Neoma’d not fucked up, had she?

  Neoma was grasping at new words to throw Liana’s way when she spoke again, in a voice so quiet it was almost drowned out by the nothing around them.

  “They… really missed me? They really… worried about me?”

  “Really, really.”

  Liana’s lips thinned, and she stared down at her hand again. Edged a foot a bit against the ground. “Then… then I should at least try. For them.” Tentatively… “After all… there… is nothing more important than family, yes?”

  When Neoma laughed this time, she felt it -- felt the joy, the relief, the end of a nightmare. And this time, when she pulled Liana into a hug, she felt a warmth in her belly that would’ve made it nearly impossible not to.

  “That’s exactly right, kiddo.”

[neomacaught]

Nothing More Important

   It’d been a long, grueling, impossible fifty hours. Longer and more grueling and more impossible, believably, than Neoma’d expected it to be. After all, how difficult was it to find a singular officer in a world where identification was required for everything one did?

   Apparently, difficult. She’d been awake and running around the base since 2100 hours on, uh... --... how many days ago was it? One, two? It was hard to keep track. All Neoma could remember any longer was the pounding of her feet on pavement, of the crisp air that felt drier and drier the longer she was out in it, of the feeling of brick beneath her fingers and metal against her arms as she climbed and scaled the impressive base in search. The teams by her side had switched off five separate times, and more than once someone had attempted to relieve her. 

   But she’d made a promise. She told them she’d bring her back.

   And she would.

   Doctors marveled at how she was passing each examination they ran on her in attempts to force her to take her leave. She didn’t seem to be tired, and any scrapes or bruises were beyond minor. What she’d told Jim just before he drifted to sleep was true: she didn’t get sore. But that didn’t mean that spending fifty hours wide awake, soothing every officer she came into contact with, and walking the length of one of the Federation’s biggest bases multiple times over was enjoyable or restful for her. ( That didn’t mean that part of her wasn’t still shaking from an encounter with a limp body in a river, that her disagreements with all of those close to her wasn’t burning a coldness somewhere hard in the back of her throat. ) 

   Ah, Jim… Fuck. When he learned about this disaster, she was sure he’d staunchly refuse to ever sleep again. And after all her hard work. Ancestors. It felt like all of her effort with everyone was coming up to nothing, now. Encouraging Reg out of his shell, building and mending a relationship with John, her friendship with Luci, Jim… ancestors, she was tired.

   Part of her wondered, briefly, if she could convince Spock to keep all of this on the down low from him -- especially now that it was over. But she didn’t have to know him very well at all to know that that wasn’t an option. 

   But at least it was over. At least it wasn’t like waking up on Corvid. 

   At least this was a nightmare that would end.

   After checking every Federation and non-Federation ship, the Institute, all of Yorktown… after climbing every building, sliding under every tree, dipping herself deep into water and barging in through every library… Neoma had decided, on a whim, to check for Liana on incoming ships, and was rather floored when it worked. An Aella -- not Liana -- Moore was on a non-Federation supply ship, heading back to Yorktown, and Neoma was going to be there when she docked. It only took a few calls to the captain of that ship to put together the pieces. Liana’d beamed on from a civilian transporter, rather than a Starfleet-specific one -- a transporter that dealt with such a large volume of use that it had no choice but to delete profiles of those who passed through it -- to his ship. She’d been on the base and had been trying to find another ship to lead her elsewhere. It was only a half a day, it seemed, before she’d buckled internally, admitted to him that she’d snuck aboard his ship before shields went up, and requested to take the next return trip with him. He’d agreed, and now she was less than twenty minutes from docking. 

   And so, here Neoma stood. Waiting for her. In a bustle of laughing, chattering people, moving swiftly and gleefully throughout a shuttle bay. Her pole collapsed at the magnetic belt on her side, her arms crossed, her hair pulled back into a fishtail braid that she thought maybe looked alright whenever she’d done it. She tugged at the tie to let it free from its mess, let her hair fall around her, catch briefly in the wind. 

   For a moment, it was almost too easy to believe that Liana wouldn’t show up, after all. That the information had been a farce. That she’d reported Liana’s recovery prematurely, and she’d have to resume activities again. That this was a break, and not the end. 

   But relief touched some distant part of her when she spotted a thin figure walking through the crowds. Dressed in a long white dress, a single book clutched to her chest, as though it’d protect her from the reality she was about to face. Ancestors, Liana looked about as shitty as Neoma felt. Black hollows beneath her eyes, pale, paper-thin skin, body bent in on itself. She stared at the floor with the same guilty expression Meeth wore when he knew he’d done something wrong.

   The same expression her girls had had… 

   Neoma breathed out. Released the fifty hours that’d passed -- released the memory of Amila and Naith pouting -- and focused on the start of this hour, focused on the face of this girl.  

   The security officer reached out, palm up, and waited until the kid’d walked to her side to drape her arm around her shoulders. She felt Liana stiffen beneath the contact of the half-hug, but Neoma still leaned forward to distribute a kiss in her hair. 

   “Welcome back, Liana.” 

   Liana’s head tilted up so painfully slowly -- and when their eyes met, everything in the kid’s face was open, childish, shocked. She was round, and gentle, and small, and… Ancestors, she looked like she was about eleven years old. “H… i.” 

   Neoma squeezed her with one arm. “You really gave us a fright, you know.” 

   “I… I did?” 

   The confusion would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so heartbreaking. Maybe still would’ve been if Neoma hadn’t spent the better part of these past few days fighting that fright. 

   She smiled, instead of answering -- tapped her with her thumb and began leading her away from the ships. “Where were you off to?” Conversational. Light. 

  Liana stared back down, once again. Felt a little bit closer to Neoma than she had moments before. “I don’t…” Nearly choked. “I do not know. Just… away. As far away as possible.” 

   “Well,” with humor in her teeth, “you know, if you want to go far away, the Enterprise is a great place to do it.” 

   Liana’s lips flattened, and she ducked her head further, but it somehow read almost as a small smile might. 

   They walked for a bit in silence, and, wow -- how good silence could sound. How good walking could feel! But what sounded even better, y’know, was conversation. Especially conversation that mattered. So… 

   “I hear you don’t want to be a Betazoid. You don’t want to be an empath. That right?” 

   She jolted, as though something horrific had been found out. “Y… yes.” 

   “Why not?” 

   The sounds of the crowd from the bay were beginning to disperse. It made her pause sound even louder. “I… I want to be normal. I want to be… like everyone else.” 

   Ha. “You are like everyone else.” 

   “No.” Her voice was dark, steady, so suddenly it was surprising. It was too much like the Aella Neoma’d met one time in a communications bay. “I am apart from them, and they from me.” 

   “Apart?” Neoma’d never been fantastic at clamping at her humor -- and now was no exception. A hard laugh, rough and grainy and loud erupted from her.

   “W-- what is so funny?” Ah, there she was, again -- the petulant child annoyed with the humor she didn’t understand. ( So much like Amila. So much it burned. ) “That is not funny.”  

   “Ha… you really have no idea, huh?” 

   “Of course I do not. That -- that is why I asked.” 

   “No, no… I meant…” Okay. Stop smiling. Serious Neoma time. “Everyone’s been in a frenzy looking for you. Spock, Reg, John. Casper. ’Ve had to tie almost all of them back from going out to look for you.” 

   “What? No -- no, you are -- you are lying.” 

   “What’s the point in lying, Liana? Already got you here.” 

   She paused. Perhaps, Neoma supposed, to consider that maybe it was true. “R… really?” 

   “Really really. Do you know how many times I had to wrangle Spock into submission?” 

   “The -- the commander?” 

   “Unless there’s two of ‘em.” 

   “But -- no! W… why would he…? No. He… he must be like this with everyone.” 

   Neoma was able to temper her amusement back to a chuckle, this time. “Nah. He told me you two were close.” 

   “What?” She was watching her, now.

   “Yup. He gave me a lot of invaluable information about where to look for you, too. I don’t think any of them’s gotten a lick of sleep since your disappearing act.” 

   “I… oh, I…” Her shock fell into something else. Something small and sad, plain enough for even Neoma to get. “I did not mean to worry them. I did not know they would realize my absence. I -- I just wanted… to be free.” 

   Free, huh? Neoma sighed -- probably came out more like a huff. Either way, the noise was low, rueful. She didn’t get it. Ties were the best part of life. Hadn’t she just said something like that in the comms a few days ago? Having a spot to call your own, and a sky you knew… that was precious. But… 

   “Well, my girls wanted to see the stars. They wanted to be free so, so bad. But you don’t have to run away to see the stars. You’re… already in Starfleet.” 

   “But I…” A frustrated breath from her. “I do not want to be.” 

   “Why not?” 

   “I… I do not like it! It is scary, and dangerous. I do not want to live on a ship. I… I do not want to be what she was.” 

   “Ancestors, kid.” It came out before she could stop it. That she was so vehemently said. “She who?” 

   Liana’s voice fell low, quiet and stripped and now anything but the acid she’d once tasted. “Aella.”

   Oh. Fuck. Well, okay. “Why are you separating them?” 

   “What?” 

   “You and her. Who you were and who you are. You’re the same people.” 

   “N-- no! No!” 

   Another one? Really? “Sorry, but… yeah.” Neoma recognized the wiggling -- like an animal wanting to be put down -- and so she stopped, turned to face her. Wherever they were now, it was quieter. Less clattering, less people. Neoma pressed both her palms into Liana’s shoulders, watched her shrink, slightly. “Listen to me.” She waited until her gaze lifted, even if was only minute at first. “I used to live beneath a volcano. I’d sleep with a burlap sack over my face, and wake to watch the guar. I hadn’t been ten miles from where I lived. I hated fighting. I just wanted to watch my guar in peace. Fabric like this…” She rubbed at Liana’s shoulders. “I’d never even seen it before. It was a whole different world. And now look at me. I’m a security officer out in space. Lightyears away from where I raised those guar. On ground that isn’t really ground. On a planet that’s not really a planet. Using technology, every day, when the most expensive thing I used to own was… I don’t know. Maybe my staff. And if you’d asked me then where I’d be now… I’d never see it. I’d never see this.” 

   “Then how did you get here?” By now, Liana was staring at her. Her eyes were large, glassy, fixed. Neoma felt the weight of her attention keyed into every single word. “Why are you here?” 

   “Things changed. Lot of things changed. And I got new perspective. And... I guess that’s what happened to you, too. No, you don’t know why you’d want to live on a ship, or be in Starfleet. No, it doesn’t make sense to you. But you don’t remember the perspective that made you want to be here. So of course you’re confused. Of course you’re lost. But what… what if you could rediscover that perspective? What if you could learn more about yourself?” 

   The eyes staring back at her were brimming with tears, now. She opened her mouth twice -- two false-starts -- before she found her voice.

   “I… I am scared something would happen to me. To who I am. John tells me he has a Haliaan waiting to heal me… but I do not believe it will heal me. I believe it will kill me.” 

   “Kill you?” 

   “Who I am…” Her palm raised from her side, and she stared at it, pressed fingertips against it. “I will be gone. Another person will take her place.” 

   “No. Hey, look at me. No. Same person. Just new perspective. Okay? And it’s not gonna be like a…” She lifted a hand, only for as long as it took her to snap. “... you know? You may get the perspective and decide… hey. I still want to go to the Institute. I still want to leave Starfleet. And then you can. But then you’ll know, too. And something like sensing someone’s emotions won’t set you off so much that you disappear.” 

   Eyelashes fluttered, and a tear fell to Liana’s cheek. Neoma moved to wipe at it with the back of her hand. The kid’s eyes shuddered closed from the contact. 

   “I’m not gonna make you stay in Starfleet, okay? It’s your life. But… if you’re going to leave, I’m gonna make you say goodbye.” 

   It was supposed to sound almost jesting, that last sentence, but… Liana wasn’t opening her eyes. Wasn’t relaxing again. Fuck. Neoma’d not fucked up, had she?

   Neoma was grasping at new words to throw Liana’s way when she spoke again, in a voice so quiet it was almost drowned out by the nothing around them. 

   “They… really missed me? They really… worried about me?” 

   “Really, really.” 

   Liana’s lips thinned, and she stared down at her hand again. Edged a foot a bit against the ground. “Then… then I should at least try. For them.” Tentatively… “After all… there… is nothing more important than family, yes?” 

   When Neoma laughed this time, she felt it -- felt the joy, the relief, the end of a nightmare. And this time, when she pulled Liana into a hug, she felt a warmth in her belly that would’ve made it nearly impossible not to. 

   “That’s exactly right, kiddo.” 

[stedes-black-bonnet]

My Baby Does Me: Chapter 30

POV: John Deacon x reader

Notes: life, guys; sorry this took longer than expected.

Warnings: Swearing? Bad driving?

Abstract: The Apartment, Some Like It Hot, The Seven Year Itch, Sabrina...

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

Jim Hutton had always wanted to drive Roger’s Alfa Romeo. But, when the cards were down on the table, who didn’t? Jim wouldn’t have described himself as a gear-head. He might have said he was a good Catholic boy from Ireland who had a perchance for good bar-tending skills, barber-y, and cater-waitering. He wasn’t into cars as a hobby, and for Jim there was a clear class divide between people who drove cars for necessity and people who collected cars. Collecting cars was something people with money did. For fun. Purely for fun; this wasn’t always a concept Jim easily wrapped his head around: spending money for fun. And, until Freddie, Jim had never been in possession of having enough money to really peruse the finer things in life. A car for Jim had always been a means to get to and from work and never as an instrument of enjoyment. And Freddie, generous to a fault, never ceased to shower Jim with everything he had been denied or had denied himself through strict duty of survival. Roger, who maybe had seven cars all told (that Jim knew about), had names for each of them, claimed they all had personalities, different capabilities, and loyalties, saw cars companions.

“Roger?” Jim said, living his best life, top down, having really opened up the goddess in red. They were doing about 80 mph.

Roger moaned. His blond hair was whipping in the breeze, his head hung over the side of his door; he had already vomited once. His blazer had been abandoned. Come to think of it, he was feeling abandoned himself. Abandoned by his own abilities of perception and common sense. He kept thinking about Deacy. What he had said. And why. And that he’d give anything to fix it; he’d give anything to fix Deacy, and had. He had been the one to see her body, after all. And he’d do it again, if the choice came his way again. He was always willing to torture himself at the expense of others. And boy, he had really outdone himself this time. He knew exactly the right words to say to destroy his best friend, and he had said them, without a second thought, without caring, with the desire to harm. It hadn’t been his finest moment. I mean, he had dazzled; the audience had been captivated, and he had always loved that unique feeling, the feeling of holding a group of people in the palm of his hand. It was a rush like no other. It was one thing to do it how Freddie did it, with his vocals and his acrobatics, but it was an entirely different enterprise to do it with the tone of your voice, the flick of a wrist, and a well placed designer suit. So, in a very real sense, it had been one of his finer moments, but in an entirely different sense, it had been his worst. What have I done? He couldn’t dance around it any longer.

“Hey, Roger?!” Jim repeated, ready to perform, trying his hardest to reach Roger.

“Not again...” Roger sighed.

Doing his best John Travolta, Jim said,  “Why it could be Greased Lightnin’!”

“Jim, no; not again, mate; I’m begging you.” Roger said, swallowing hard. “If you sing that song again, I’ll throw up on you--I swear. I’m putting my foot down.”

“Rog—it’s my prime jive.”

“Never. Ever. Say that again.” He wasn’t finding the humor in any of it.

This was their fifth or sixth time around the roundabout. And there was no end in sight. Jim could keep this carousel going all night. He had nowhere else he’d rather be, and nothing else better to do in this moment than to bring Roger back from whatever precipice he was currently gazing into. The void was calling Roger’s name, and it would be quite simply over Jim’s dead body for Roger to reach it.

“Can we please get off this thing?” Roger shouted over the sounds of skidding rubber. “I think you’ve made your point.”

“You know very well I’m not taking us off until you laugh--a real, honest to God laugh. Those were the rules. I can play games, too.” Jim, grinning, kept driving. He hoped he was also driving his point home. He wasn’t so sure, though. And he was terrible at playing games, but that’s what Freddie loved most about him. He was pure, well-lived, hard-worked, and entirely devoted to people.

“I don’t think you’re understanding my predicament here.” Roger moved with gravity and speed, leaning into Jim, leaning out of his mind.

“Oh, I understand it perfectly; you’re the one that isn’t understanding it.”

“What do you mean by that?” Roger hated it when someone presumed to know him better than he knew himself.

“You’re being a child for starters.” Jim said, checking for cops.

“A child?!” His voice was higher than usual; this was a good sign; it meant Roger knew he was being a child, but was trying to hide it from everyone--including, and most importantly, from himself.

“Yes.” Jim confirmed. “Causing all this drama because you fell in love and couldn’t handle it.”

“But Jim--!”

“But Jim nothing. Childish! That’s the most childish thing I’ve ever heard; causing a scene worthy of Billy Wilder in the restaurant back there; breaking my heart and breaking poor Johnny’s, too. Not to mention the meat grinder you’ve put your own through. And for what?” Jim was shaking his head, irritated beyond belief; he took the goddess in red up to 85 mph. “Love is a gift, you fucking idiot.”

“Jim, listen--!” Roger was holding on for dear life in more ways than one.

“No, you listen here Roger Meddows Taylor; grow the fuck up. And stop telling me what to do or say; if I want to sing every God-blessed song from Grease, I bloody well will.”

“But--!”

“I solve my problems and the see the light!”

Roger groaned loudly and melodramatically; this was, perhaps, for a singer himself, the most perfect torture to endure. Jim’s voice wasn’t perhaps the best suited to belt the Frankie Valli hit, but he was enthusiastic and determined, which was really half the battle when singing any song. A talented singer, though, Jim was not. Not that it would ever stop him. Nor should it. Freddie always told him it didn’t matter how he sounded, but what he felt. Jim always held that in his heart, and applied it confidently throughout his life.

“We’ve got a lovin’ thing, we gotta feed it right.”

“Jim, you’re killing me.” Roger didn’t want to see the light; color was light after all, only reflected light; he didn’t want to see the truth, he didn’t want to feed his love, he didn’t want Lydia. Not really. Maybe. Fine, he wanted her. He loved her. But. Well. The unavoidable fact here. The one undisputed fact traipsing through his mind was this: What if Lydia ended up like Veronica? What if she died? Terribly? Suddenly? And Without rhyme or reason? It could happen to anyone. It had to Deacy, and it had completely ruined him. For years. What if Lydia died like Veronica had?

This fear was keen, deep-set, and so ingrained at this point it had driven him to a life of perpetual bachelorhood and luxurious cad-ing around. It was perhaps so hidden in his heart and mind he didn’t even know it was there until now.

“No--you’re killing yourself; love is a gift, and it won’t be wasted on you if you accept it.” Jim took a deep breath and continued, as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “There ain’t no danger we can go too far; we start believing now that we can be what we are. Grease is the word!”

Laughing, Roger said, “I will give you this car if you stop singing.” He had laughed. It was the sound of thin ice breaking in early March. It was the sound of coffee. The sound of velvet.

Jim immediately switched gears and slowed the goddess in red. The laugh had been genuine and light; accidentally won when Roger had least expected it. Roger hated losing. Usually to a fault. Something about this didn’t entirely feel like losing, though. He still wasn’t sure he liked it. Jim did seem rather proud of himself, very smiling, very pleased, maybe a little too pleased.

“I’ve always wanted this car; thank you, Roger.”

“I was joking.” Roger smiled at Jim. “I was joking! There’s no way I’m giving you her.”

“Oh, I think this will be fine payment for saving your life, reuniting you with Lydia, and helping you fix this mess with the band.” Jim wasn’t giving an inch.

“I don’t deserve your help.”

“Not more of that; I can open her up again if you’re going to just slip back into that bollocks.” His eyebrows danced, hand on the gear shaft, ready to pounce.

“No, no!” Roger yelled. “I just mean...I don’t know what I mean.”

Roger was a loquacious kind of fellow. He wasn’t often in the position of not knowing how to express himself or what to say. Words were failing him, like the colors had. Like he had failed himself. What if he said it out loud? What would happen? If he gave song to his fear? What would go down? Would Jim understand? Probably. Would the world end? Probably not? Roger wasn’t sure he could trust logic anymore; he wasn’t seeing colors, and logic couldn’t explain that. Maybe there were some things that logic couldn’t explain. The heart has reasons the mind knows not. Some French dude said that once, and Roger really felt those words. He hoped he lived by them. He wanted to live by them. He used to think if he could trust anything, it would be his heart, and recently, he had really failed himself on this account. He had been doing anything and everything to not listen to it. And now, he had to find his way back to it, if he could.

“Let me do for you what you did for Johnny once.” Jim said. He let the words hang in the air for a bit, because they were important; Roger needed to remember he was oddly noble and desperately loyal. Or that he had been. And that he could be again. Jim hadn’t been lying before: when he had first been introduced to the band and met Roger, he had been somewhat disappointed by this seemingly vacuous and vainglorious blond trash. Over time, Jim saw how much of it was an act of sorts; yes, Roger was emotional, yes he was volatile, yes he said what was on his mind no matter what it was; but, Roger was also the most caring person he had ever met, the most perceptive, and the most unwilling to admit he was a good person.

“Y/N tried to save you, too. In her own way, I’m guessing. But she tried. She stood up for Deacy and for you.”

“About that--How did she know?” Roger asked. His heart rate had increased just thinking about what you had said. “She scared the shit out of me; I’m not ashamed to admit it. She was the last person I was expecting to punch me out. But she did, and with more than her fists. There’s no way Deacy told her about Veronica already. Just no fucking way, mate.”

Taking the deep breath of truth-telling, Jim admitted, “I told her.”

He finally turned off the roundabout and headed towards Garden Lodge. He slowed drastically so he could safely look at Roger’s reaction. Trying to gauge anything flashing on Roger’s face wasn’t the easiest task while driving, or while he was in his current condition. His blue eyes were streaming with tears, whether from wind, his excess of emotions, or from being sick--it was hard to tell. Jim didn’t like to speculate, but he had a feeling it was all three. “Someone had to tell her. And I don’t regret doing it, just as I don’t regret wanting to punch you out earlier, just as I don’t regret coming after you, and saving you now. Though the hell I’m going to take for all it isn’t something I’m looking forward to reckoning with.”

Roger nodded, taking it all in. “I would have told her myself if…” he couldn’t find the words any more than he could find the colors. All he could see was Veronica’s blue Mercedes-Benz. That one had come back; maybe the others could too?

“You would have yourself if you hadn’t been burying your head up your arse?”

“Something like that, yes.”

“So...the colors?” Jim asked, trying to peel the onion that was Roger’s psyche.

“I don’t know, Jim.”

Jim loudly rolled his eyes. “I don’t buy that. The conditions were clear: you need to level with me, Roger.”

Roger knew Jim was right.

He took a breath, trying to steady himself, and he started leveling.

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

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[thespoonplayer]

(DJ) Spoon’s Review of 2018

This year I haven’t listened to much music at all, at least not in comparison to previous years and I certainly haven’t been to many gigs. I’m sure this won’t last but this year I’ve been busier at work so less likely to plug in, I’ve stuck to the radio in the car just to keep up with how messy Brexit really is (ooer a bit of politics) and my runs have been 100% fueled by podcasts so music has just taken a backseat. However, I couldn’t let the year go past without some kind of list...so here is a pot pourri of my favourite discoveries of 2018.

1. Podcasts

Seeing as these have been so important this year I’ll start here...and cheat slightly by bigging up some oldies, but good enough to bang on about again.

Old favourites : Running Commentary (Comedians Paul Tonkinson and Rob Deering take you on their runs and chat sometimes about running, but always about life, kids, comedy and anything that pops into their heads), Adam Buxton (always entertaining ramble chat from Dr Buckles whoever is on, I’ve learnt stuff and I’ve laughed a lot), My Dad Wrote a Porno (Sheer filth as ever but genuinely caused me to LOL during my runs, wondering if people can hear that I’m listening to chat about vaginal lids).

New entries : Off Menu (Ed Gamble and James Acaster opened their genie run fantasy restaurant a month ago and it has quickly become one of my favourite podcasts ever. Eclectic guests pick their fantasy 3 course meals, simple premise and it works. The Scroobius Pip episode was a perfect clash of two excellent pods), Blank (another late entry into 2018 from Jim Daly and Giles Paley-Phillips ostensibly about blank moments in life but just rammed with infotaining chat from ‘non standard’ guests including a jaw dropping episode with Michael Rosen and fun with Gary Lineker and Susie Dent), Poddin’ on the Ritz (sadly now finished with maybe its only series) this pod recorded backstage at Young Frankenstein by Hadley Fraser and the sublime Ross Noble made me laugh more than any other in 2018, it might be about musicals but their search for Kenneth Branagh’s snowglobes and Lesley Joseph adoration was a joy.

2. Board games

They say a family that plays together, stays together. Well we are together more than you can imagine. We’ve played over 220 games this year! Here are our favourite new games into our collection:

The game of the year is Azul, a seemingly simple tile grab and place game, building up a mosaic prettier than anyone else, is full of strategy and a little (but not too much) shafting of others. If you really want to shaft your fellow players though then pick up Unstable Unicorns, a card game where you aim to grow your stable of unicorns, whilst stopping others filling theirs. SO many different cards, tactics and ways to mess it up, you will swear at some point. Discovered in the excellent new board game cafe The Dice Box in Leamington, we bought Meeple Circus before we left, it’s that much fun. Rehearse and perform the best tiny wooden meeple circus performance, accompanied by a bespoke playlist. Stack the acrobats, balance the lions and raise the bar. Another board game cafe, Chance & Counters in Bristol introduced us to the frantic game of Klask, a cross between air hockey, pool and table football. Slide the magnets around to flick a ball into your opponents hole, avoid the magnetic biscuits and don’t KLASK! When is a game not a game? another game of the year has been played a lot in our house, and it’s The Mind. 100 cards numbered 1-100, no words between players and a tense task to lay cards in ascending order. Simple? yes? possible? nope! but it’s sure to cause fun and arguments. The final two of MY favourite sadly aren’t quite as loved by my family, but I’ll get them there. Sagrada is a similar game to Azul with you attempting to build a beautiful stained glass window with coloured dice. More variations and thinking needed than Azul which adds to the challenge. And finally and lovely chess like 2 player game which transports you to the sun dappled Greek island of Santorini. Take the powers of a god and build the traditional blue domed white houses of the island whilst trying to stop your opponent climbing onto a roof. A lot of ‘aha, you’ve stopped me’ moments.

3. TV

It’s been a long old year at work, and in the world of parenting so we’ve found ourselves flopped on the settee many evenings just soaking up great drama, comedy and chilling ;o)

We are very late to the party with Suits but that means we have 8 series to wade through! Really neat writing, bants and relationships between characters, a ‘don’t worry they will always win’ calmness about it and you get to see the Queen in her knickers...ish. Another Netflix treat this year was Magic for Humans with Justin Willman, a hugely likeable and funny magician pulling off tricks that constantly make me smirk with a huge dollop of WTF? amazing. A huge recommendation. A late entry to my TV highlights of 2018 is from the warped warped mind of Charlie Brooker...of course with Bandersnatch. An interactive choose your own adventure TV ‘event’ (I know) that had us hooked for the full 90 minutes (only if you want to see how much bloodshed you can invoke!). Completely on the other end of the spectrum was the sublime and minimalistic Mortimer and Whitehouse: Gone Fishing. I don’t like fishing and why would I find two old mates just teasing each other for half an hour entertaining? No idea but it was beautiful. Like Radio 4, comforting and perfect. Then a few suspenseful dramas that got us on the edge of the settee, Killing Eve (quirky AF), Bodyguard (did they really kill Keely Hawes that early?) and Informer (bleak bleak bleak) and sweaty bullocks in ‘should be in the next section really’ Bird Box (made Informer seem like a giggle fest).

4. Films

Really haven’t been to the cinema much in the last 12 months and only once to see a ‘grown up’ film I think but kid’s films are SO good at the moment that’s ok. A few stand out films for me were:

Ralph Breaks the Internet, much better than the first one, lots of #lolz internet jokes and more than a little heart. Wrap me up in a duvet and give me a hot cocoa and Paddington 2 any day, tears at the end. A little more sighing but just as much emotion in Christopher Robin, not sure why Eeyore had an American accent but the characters were spot on and nicely faithful to the original concepts. The one time I did venture out for an adult (it’s a 12 so almost ;o) and saw Ready Player One I was delighted, yeah it might not be a) as good as or b) anything like the book but a visual treat and an enjoyable romp.

5. Books

I read A LOT, until my Kindle donks me on the head in bed anyway...literally a tiny selection of books that have kept me awake. 

The Secret Lives of Colour - Kassia St Clair. They say never judge a book by its cover. Well that didn’t work...I bought this purely because it is a beautiful package, the hardback a lot more pleasing imho. Simply 2 coloured pages about how each colour was discovered, invented and introduced throughout history. I never really gave it a thought that colours were...made. Weird and fascinating.

This Is Going to Hurt - Adam Kay. A hilarious ‘secret’ diary of a junior doctor that horrifies at the same time. I think we all knew it was a hard life but bloody hell, if you didn’t love the NHS before you will after this. A thoroughly enjoyable and insightful story of Adam’s journey through medicine. And that ending...wooof.

Moose Allain - I Wonder What I’m Thinking About. I love Moose, I love his colour-me-advent calendars, I love his tweet threads that show the best in Twitter, I love his cartoons and this book is all of those wrapped up in one. And a certain Mr Spoon is to thank for the publication, find me in the back of Unbound funders! An inspiring book for anyone who loves art, creativity and childish humour.

Factfulness : Ten Reasons We’re Wrong About the World - Hans Rosling. A brilliantly clever and educational book about why the world is NOT as shit as it might seem some times. It’s all backed up by real data and lovely lovely graphs!

Lee Child and Ian Rankin. A highlight of the year is the next Reacher and Rebus novels and these two didn’t disappoint. Rebus’ latest adventure Past Tense, is a self-contained story that could introduce anyone to the man machine that is Jack Reacher. Rebus however is back, retired but won’t lie down, in In A House of Lies, an old case comes back to haunt him and will this finally be his downfall? I doubt it!

6. Music

As mentioned, I haven’t ‘been into music’ as much in 2018 for various reasons but I’ve still enjoyed some great new discoveries:

Barns Courtney - The Attractions of Youth, discovered via the use of Glitter and Gold for the theme tune of Netflix’s Safe. An album of ‘cheesy, commercially viable blues and folk rock’ apparently. I just liked the visceral nature of some of the tracks and it always fired me up at work on slow days.

Isaac Gracie - Isaac Gracie, a rare listened to recommendation from my wife. Isaac is everything I claim to like, fragile thin sensitive boys with acoustic guitars....and I do very much with this. Painful screeched out tales of heartbreak. Sublime.

R.E.M. - Live at the BBC, 104 rare and live tracks from arguably one of the best bands ever. Some of the tracks I haven’t heard since my bootleg cassette buying days at Sheffield Uni, when the world was in black and white. Not all tracks are of the greatest audio quality but bliss for a fanboy like me.

Creep Show - Mr Dynamite, a spin off project for Mr John Grant and even from the eclectic crooner this is an odd one. Glitchy electronica with vocoders all over the place. Weird and very Marmite.

Public Service Broadcasting - Every Valley and everything else. The latest offering from the other PSB was a trip through the miner’s crisis and Thatcher years. Bleak? yup but fascinating snippets of well, public service broadcasting and guest stars including the obligatory Welsh rockers the Manics. This album is perfect by itself but it ‘forced’ me to go back and really discover all the PSB albums. The Live at Brixton release is a huge recommendation, I wish I was there.

Rex Orange County - Apricot Princess, maybe I just added this in to seem cool as Rex, aka Alexander O’Conner, was ‘one to watch in 2018′ from the BBC. A multi-instrumentalist that dabbles with hippity hop, R&B and piano pop. The first track alone contains about three musical styles if you wait. 

7. Food & Drink

I run, because I really like food. And thankfully I’ve run a lot in 2018 so I got to enjoy a lot.

I was introduced to the weird fermented tea monstrosity that is kombucha by my sister-in-law. Vinegar tasting drink that may or may not help your gut that grows in your living room. WTAF? However, health benefits aside the LA Brewery Strawberry and Black Pepper drink is something, alongside my pilgrimage to Leon, worth going to London for. I’ve heard it’s also for sale in Solihull but I don’t often travel that far beyond my class ;o) I’d say, try it...but I suspect 9/10 people with hate the flavour. 

I suspect 10/10 people that try the Aldi Black Forest Mince Pies would love them, but you won’t get a chance as I’ve bought them ALL. Aldi are a bugger for getting you hooked then never restocking. I only managed 10 boxes in 2018 and we’ve rationed well so have 12 left to get us through the bleak January weather. Cherries, Dark Chocolate, Chocolate pastry and a smidge of mincemeat. Perfect!

There are many ingredient delivery services available and I’ve only tried Gousto but I don’t know why you’d go anywhere else. 33 recipes tried and 32 of them I’d have again, with the one not so good one was still far better than anything I’d cook by myself. So easy, so tasty and if you want to try it I can give you a big discount that will help us buy another box, a tad expensive without a discount but worth a treat every so often.

Genuinely I traveled to London just to visit Max’s Sandwich Shop...kinda. It was certainly the deciding factor in a day out at the Summer Exhibition (see below). I downloaded the Kindle version of this book when it was promoted in an email, I bought some Scampi Fries and made a Fish Finger sandwich, I crumbled up some Ginger Nuts into a Mascarpone and Jam sandwich and I made a Fried Egg, Shoestring Fried and Gammon sandwich then I NEEDED to go and see how it’s really done. Amazing over the top sandwiches in a rough little hipster cafe in Stroud Green (no me neither and it’s a long walk from the tube!). So good I had to a) buy the hard copy of the book and b) carry half the sandwich home as even I couldn’t manage it all...not with deep fried macaroni balls filling me up ;o)

8. Places

A family that plays together, stays together as a great man once said. And we don’t just play inside, we love adventures so adventures we had.

I’d never been to the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition, as it’s in that there London which often seems hundreds of miles away...but I’m so glad that I visited this year. A trip with a good friend with neither of us knowing quite what to expect. We saw, and laughed, and marveled at, paintings, sculptures, videos, photos, models, and weirdness by Banksy next to Joe Lycett next to Grayson Perry next to Harry Hill, next to me mate Lorsen Camps from Coventry. The SA allows ANYONE to submit artwork for consideration and anyone can be accepted. I think this has to become a yearly visit, awesome.

My parents have been wanting to take our kids, and their big kid, to The Forbidden Corner in North Yorkshire for a few years now...and I’m so happy we finally got round to going. Started as a folly to entertain his children this huge labyrinthine site is crammed with strange sculptures, mazes, tricks and squirting fountains. Many hours were spent squeezing through holes, getting lost and getting wet. Beautifully eccentric.

A family holiday to Brittany meant we could visit the loopy city (it’s their phrase!) of Nantes and more importantly Les Machines d’Ile. Ostensibly the workshop of  a group of engineers and artists that make huge animatronic machines and animals...that you can ride on! Needs to be seen to be believed, the Elephant brings out the big kid in everyone...and we can’t wait to go back in a few years when they’ve built a huge forest over the river with ride on caterpillars and dragonfly. Incredible. The city itself is dotted with crazy art and interactive pieces encouraging play, I know a city closer to home that should be the UK Loopy City of Culture!

Luckily Tilly is a Harry Potter obsessive AND it was her birthday last year so it gave us the excuse we didn’t need to visit the Warner Brothers Harry Potter Studio Tour. Wow, just wow. The incredible detail in everything made for the film, the engineering, the amount of artists involved and the presentation of the exhibition blew us away. I’ve enjoyed everything in this list but this maybe was the most magical in the best way.

Many many amazing experiences warrant a mention, but I just don’t have enough words, include Talking Birds - Walk with Me, Print Manufactory Darkroom Workshop, Ludic Rooms Random String Festival, Go Karting with Tilly, some dancing balloons in Broadgate, Godiva Festival with Tony Christie et al, Bristol Gromit trail, Disc Golfing with my girls, Edinburgh Fringe with Dick and Dom and with another wonderful dick from Coventry starring in Bon Jovi musical We’ve Got Each Other, Pandas! at Edinburgh Zoo, Matilda the Musical with Tilly at last, running the Coventry Mile with the girls’ school, Dippy the Dinosaur in Brum, Wicksteed Park (amazing family fun theme park like what they used to be), Cycling on Stratford Greenway in the sun, Autotesting at MotoFest, Bourton-on-the-Water (it’s just a shame 3 million other people know about this gorgeous village), Giant Pac Man in the city centre, Pork Pie making with a good friend, CET several times, Novelty Automation in London and being on The One Show, a couple of Hope & Social gigs and much much much more fun with my wonderful fam and friends. Roll on 2019!

[reelblog]

Reel Review: Christopher Robin

Reel Review: Christopher Robin

By Nelson Nantanapibul

Director: Marc Forster

Starring: Ewan McGregor, Hayley Atwell, Bronte Carmichael, Mark Gatiss, Jim Cummings, Brad Garrett, Nick Mohammed, Peter Capaldi, Sophie Okonedo, Sara Sheen, Toby Jones

I’ve been a long time Winnie the Pooh fan since I was a kid and the trailers for this film grabbed me from the start. A grown up Christopher Robin reconnecting to a happier time in his childhood. I really did like this film and its message and it comes at a time when I have been re-evaluating my own life and considering what I find to be of most importance in it.

The film starts off with a young Christopher Robin having to say good-bye to his friends in the 100 acre woods because his father is shipping him off to boarding school so he’ll be “prepared” to grow up to be a contributing member of society. There is a montage of his life in the intervening years as he deals with death, war and a family of his own.

Minor spoiler ahead...the film shows Christopher going off to fight in World War II. The scene of him at war is brief but may be a bit intense for younger viewers. I am a little surprised it was included in the film but I think it was meant in part to illustrate the loss of innocence that we all face as we grow up in an imperfect society filled with many trials and tribulations. Life and death, work and the routines of our daily existence impact us in ways we do not always realize because the effects happen gradually and over time.

There will be many comparisons between this film and Paddington Bear for obvious reasons. Paddington Bear was filled with a lot more slapstick type comedy while the comedy in this film is a bit more subdued in nature. Though one important similarity is that both films have a lot of heart and are good natured fun.

Christopher ever since leaving the 100 acre woods has been conditioned to let go of “childish” things and to essentially be a cog in the wheel of society. He has forgotten how to have fun, how to enjoy life. Which I can relate to in so many ways. Robin has forgotten how to live in the moment to enjoy the right now. He is always so focused on what is to come and where he is going that he has forgotten from whence he came and to be present where he is needed the most. Which is something that I have struggled with.

This film reminds us that we need childish things in our lives. That we should not be beholden or loyal to a company or to a business that cares not for its workers but only on the bottom line. Loyalty should be reserved for your family and friends who have earned it and are loyal in return.

There is a reason that what was once was old is new again in terms of fashion, merchandising and in film and television. Many of us long for a happier time in our lives as if we can never find that happiness again. But this film tells us that we can be happy in the here in and now if only we give ourselves permission to. We need time for laughter, enjoyment and to be with the ones that we love and not take them for granted.

Pooh teaches Robin to not lose himself and to not lose what he truly cares about by exhibiting a misguided sense of duty and responsibility. We are responsible to those who love us and care for us and want what’s best for us. Live a little, laugh a little and cry a little which this film made me do.

[magneticmaguk]

Fancy Dress is For Children, Stop Wearing it in Nightclubs

Funny, isn't it, how the fears and anxieties you develop in early childhood follow you until the day you die? Well, it's less funny than utterly, abjectly, life-ruiningly awful really, but you get the point.

The things that rationally or otherwise take you out of the blissful amniotic bubble of your first few years and thrust you unknowingly and unwittingly into the pain and horror of life after the age of about six or so don't just vanish or dissipate; they fester and rot and keep you awake night after night.

Now, I know, you're reading a dance music website rather than a peer-reviewed psychoanalytical journal, but bear with me, because I'm about to join the dots between psychosocial development and clubbing.

Ever since I can remember, and who knows what pre-remembrance memories have been repressed deep into recesses of my unconscious, I've found the concept of fancy dress parties terrifying. Part of that fear, I assume anyway, stems from a moment in time that arrives when I least expect it, broadcast in crystal clear Ultra HD. I am at a fifth birthday party, dressed as a pirate. The party is taking place at the house of a childhood friend who lived on a farm. On that farm in a barn. We are playing hide and seek and I'm hiding from the seeker in that barn. The air smells like grass and fire and broken engines and I am grasping my plastic cutlass, eyes tightly shut, heart pounding. No one has come to find me yet, and so I explore the barn, taking tentative steps into the darkness. Here in the dark, my hand rests on something. That something is, to all intents and purposes, a severed head. I am shuddering and screaming and I want to be found right this second because as soon as I am found I can ask to go home, to get out of this pirate outfit, to thrust my head under the warm water of the bath, and let this day end.

Of course it wasn't actually a body-less skull. The thing that had inspired such world-changing fear was, in fact, one of those heads that hairdressers train on. Nevertheless, over two decades on, the very thought of fancy dress sends me back to that primal encounter, an encounter which left an indelible mark on my person: I will always associate the act of dressing up with a supreme sense of terror.

Yet recently this irrational fear has mingled with the horrors of the real world. In an attempt to stand out in a market that's saturated beyond belief, promoters and venue owners have to think of innovative ways to sell their club nights. With actual innovation being quite difficult to come by, we've seen a resurgence across clubland of legitimized, actual fancy dress parties.

Now, obvious point here but dressing up is an inherent part of the clubbing experience. Even the uniform that we attach to the Oceanas of this world (the striped shirt, bootcut jeans, and school shoes look) is a means of using a wardrobe for the purpose of reinvention. Nightlife lets us pretend we really are more than our jobs, whether or not that's the case in reality, and that pretence is usually rooted in a sartorial basis. In a thousand different ways, most of us find ourselves dressing up to let our hair down, weekend after weekend.

There is, however, a massive difference between dressing up and dressing up. The italicized version is an abomination, a dullards way of disguising their own lack of, well, anything. The chances are that any party you attend after the age of say, eleven, where the majority of the room are in some form of costume, whether it's Super Mario or Mario from Big Brother 9, Jean-Claude Juncker or Jean-Claude Van Damme, will be terrible. There are a variety of reasons for that.

The first is that fancy dress is a perfect signifier is the epitome of forced fun. As soon as a nightclub has to tell you to have fun any chance of actually having fun evaporates into the air, atomising alongside the stilton-scented vape-smoke.

"YOU," these clubs and festivals scream through tannoys disguised as pineapples, buoys, or medical waste wheelie bins, "ARE GOING TO HAVE THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE."

How—you shout back over the deafening din of a Patrick Topping set and the yammer of a thousand blokes dressed as Borat howling "YEAH MATE JUST NEAR THE FRONT MATE," into their phones—how are you going to ensure that I get my money's worth from another dismal day party thrown in an unusual London location that just as usual happens to be in a convention centre with a decent sized smoking area.

"WELL," the disembodied voices yell back, "YOU'VE GOT TO LEAVE THE VENUE AND COME BACK DRESSED AS EITHER FREDDIE MERCURY, CARMEN MIRANDA, OR THE ALLEGED WHO WANTS TO BE A MILLIONAIRE CHEAT, MAJOR CHARLES INGRAM."

I don't want to dress up as Charles Ingram or Carmen Miranda or Freddie Mercury, and I cannot begin to imagine why anyone

would

. Surely, I reason from up here in my ivory tower, being at a festival or in a club is enough fun as it is, without needing to constantly be reminded of the FUN FUN FUN FUN FUN FUN FUN FUN FUN I'm missing out on from not donning a silly wig and a pair of cowboy boots and shooting myself in the face with tequila on Snapchat. And surely I'm right. This is fun designed by committee, fun for people who need perpetual pointers as to what fun actually is.

The rise of the fancy dress party hints at a broader sociological phenomenon that's threatening to see an entire generation obsessed with negating reality via a dismal return to an imagined childhood, a sea of people doomed to a life of shitting themselves in front of old episodes of Tracey Beaker as they run their furry tongues round the sites where their now-disintegrated teeth once where—a truly devastating descent into infantilism.

Believe it or not, there is a time where childish things need to be put away, and not just printed onto a onesie or whatever the fuck it is students wear these days. Fancy dress is one such thing. Think about it: what kind of self-respecting adult actually engages with fancy dress? It'll either be some red-faced systems analyst who likes to have his own tie stuffed down his gob by a matron at that creepy school dinners place just off Oxford Street, a bloke in a panda-suit giggling his way through Rochdale town centre en route to meet the region's five other fur-fanatics, or two lads in flares shaking a leg down the front at of Magic Door.

Each of those iterations says the same thing about the costume-wearer: I am pained by the idea of existing in the present and thus willing do anything and everything I can to return to the womb. A nightclub, with all its illusions about inclusion and warmth and communality is enough of a womb, thanks.

There is also a more serious point here, that of cultural appropriation. When elrow, for example, throw another Bollywood themed party, what do they actually want from it? Honestly, what is the intention? Is it, as I suspect they'd claim, nothing more than a harmless bit of fun, no worse than, say, wearing a string of onions and a beret or a matador's cape and a pair of castanets? A cheeky wink at the world and it's many cultural variances, all of which are allegedly ripe for repurposing as a costume for an unimaginative business studies student desperate for an excuse to do a few bumps of a Sunday afternoon in mid-summer.

Well, no, it isn't really, is it? It's rank cultural imperialism masquerading as banter, a modern update on an office joker donning an afro wig and doing his best Jim Davidson impression. The idea that having a good time, or creating a "fun loving vibe" or however else these parties sell themselves to potential media partners, is permission to run riot over cultural identities is a self-evident fallacy. How do we tally the sight of white dancers dressed "Bollywood" gear with the idea of inclusion that we so often come back to when we try and justify clubbing as anything more than an enjoyable diversion from work? We can't. There is no way to do so.

And that's the problem with fancy dress in general: in a perverse way it imbues going out with a sense of genuine importance. You might not think that as you slide into a Danny Zuko style leather jacket ahead of another day party, but it's true. You've made a financial and emotional investment that didn't need to be made. You've fallen into a trap set for you by wily promoters. You've lined their pockets yet again. Oh, and you look like a twat. Sorry.

[baburaja97-blog]

New Post has been published on Vin Zite

New Post has been published on https://vinzite.com/the-most-beautiful-woman-in-the-world-award/

The Most Beautiful Woman in the World Award

My adoration for women is actually a rather innocent one if I am allowed to judge myself. I will be more than happy to outline my criteria that define my own judgment because it’s not righteous to be one’s, own judge. But, I think I will let my results speak for themselves.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for most exotic beauty, goes to Jennifer Connelly. I cannot get her hair out my head from the movie Blood Diamond. Of course, she’s in the bushes in West Africa following the story of conflict diamonds and doesn’t have time to set up an appointment with a hairdresser. But when someone can be that gorgeous even under those circumstances, that’s what drives me wild. Forget the fact that I’ve been in love with her since I first saw her in Labyrinth and I’ve followed her career throughout some of my most favorite movies including House of Sand and Fog, Dark Water, and He’s Just Not That Into You. Jennifer Connelly steals away with the most beautiful woman in the world for most exotic beauty.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for being an unexpected hottie, goes to Jenna Fischer. I started watching The Office when it first came out in 2005 and I noticed the cute receptionist behind the desk. I loved the way she flirted with Jim and dealt with Michael. I was actually rooting for Jim and now he finally is with her, with a child and the whole nine yards. But then, I saw her on the cover of Shape in November 2009. It seriously was one of those Wow moments. Who in the world is that? The hottest little hottie to grace the cover of Shape, and I had no idea that the cool, cute receptionist from The Office was that gorgeous. Jenna Fischer takes by a landslide the most beautiful woman in the world for being an unexpected hottie.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for absolute adorability, goes to Jennifer Aniston. Bursting onto the scene in Friends, she caught everyone’s attention with her rich-girl innocence and her amazing beauty. The Rachel hairdo became a national hit. Millions of girls tuned in every week just to see what she was wearing. Even though she couldn’t miss no matter what she wore, she had some of the most famous outfits including the green dress in TOW No One’s Ready, the yellow dress in TOW All The Kissing, and the black dress in TOW Monica’s Thunder. Rachel Green owned that show and Jennifer Aniston went on to star in such favorites as Office Space, Along Came Polly, and The Break-Up. Jennifer Aniston sweeps the votes for the most beautiful woman in the world for absolute adorability.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for pure loveliness, goes to Angela Kinsey. Another unexpected beauty comes from The Office in the form of Angela Martin. She plays the straight-laced accountant who can’t stand inappropriate behavior, excessive indulgence or frivolous activities. However, she goes on to have an affair with both Dwight and Andy at the same time showing us that she too is human and not above temptation. But then, I saw Angela Kinsey sport a turquoise blouse with black shorts, high heels, and straight blonde hair. That’s when I realized how perfectly gorgeous she really was. That was just the first of many enjoyable other-thanThe Office sightings including the red bikini top and cut off shorts on a day at the beach with her daughter, the blue dress at the premiere of “Meskada” after party, and a slew of red carpet outfits that knock me dead every time I see her. Angel Kinsey blasts the competition away for the most beautiful woman in the world for pure loveliness.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for the stunning angel, goes to Emily Procter. Of course, I first noticed her as Calleigh Duquesne in CSI: Miami, a beautiful detective who was nice to everyone, but stern at times when the situation called for it. The first episode I watched was when a new officer was being introduced to the force and one of his first duties was as an observer of everything Calleigh was doing. She explained a few things to get him up to speed and then she welcomed him to the Miami-Dade Police Department. Her eyes stayed fixed for what seemed like the eternity and she flashed that smile that would haunt me for years. Emily Procter triumphs as the most beautiful woman in the world for the stunning angel.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for sheer elegance, goes to Sasha Alexander. She hit the scene in her first memorable performance as Gretchen, Pacey’s older sister, in the wildly conflicted, overly dramatic, idealistic world of Dawson’s Creek. She and Dawson share a romance that is encumbered with too much thinking and not enough spontaneity, even though once in awhile you see sparks of an actual relationship in there somewhere. She immediately became one of the actresses who holds the status, “If she is in it, I will watch it.” Hence, my attention turned to NCIS when I saw her pure gorgeousness grace the show as the big sister type to the team. Obviously, I was heartbroken when she was murdered by Ari. But, Rizzoli & Isles have become the balm that soothes all nails. Sasha Alexander gallops away with the most beautiful woman in the world for sheer elegance.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for unmatched brilliance, goes to Beth Riesgraf. Repelling into my life as Parker in Leverage, she is a bit naïve about certain facts of life even though she is remarkably skilled in cracking safes, scaling buildings and gaining entrance whether legally or illegally. It’s the stern look that comes across her face when she is thinking about something as deep as she can, but her smile is mesmerizing. You melt when you see her fifty gorgeous expressions. Where has she been all my life? She pulls off beautifully the rock and rolls blonde, the straight hair formal and the runway yellow dress with the designer pocketbook to match. Beth Riesgraf lifts the most beautiful woman in the world for unmatched brilliance.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for stealing the show, goes to Natalie Portman. Of course, she had been in Anywhere But Here and Beautiful Girls along with a slew of other huge hits. But, I didn’t sit up and notice her until a pregnant girl with no shoes is abandoned at America’s department store in Where the Heart Is. Adopted by a crazy couple, she grew from a childish teenager into a professional lady who finally learns how to trust her heart again. From then on, I have not been able to take my eyes off of her. She rocks the innocent look in Sesame Street while dominating sexy in such works as Black Swan and No Strings Attached. Natalie Portman is hands down the most beautiful woman in the world for stealing the show.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for total whiplash head turner, goes to Katherine Heigl. When you see her smile from the side in that infamous “sucker” scene in The Ugly Truth, your heart passionately screams, “I want to be in that guy’s shoes.” She’s down to earth playful, seriously red carpet hot and even pulls off the bad hair day with beauty most runway models would die to embody. I think I love her most when she’s facing her own mortality in Grey’s Anatomy “Good Morning” or facing someone else’s “Dream a Little Dream.” It’s in those deadly serious moments that you find her true beauty glowing from within. Katherine Heigl rules the most beautiful woman in the world for total whiplash head turner.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for dripping hot sexy, goes to Charlize Theron. When she caught my attention in The Devil’s Advocate, I thought to myself that someone would literally have to be daft to drift away from her into a meaningless marriage. But, that was written into the script. Just look at how she rocked Mighty Joe Young, Reindeer Games, The Italian Job, and Hancock. She even made a serial killer seem likable in Monster. But to really understand the jaw-dropping, massive coronary, stand-there-with-nothing-to-say pure sexiness Charlize exudes, all you have to do is witness her raw armor as she walks down the hallway leaving layers of clothing behind in the renowned Dior J’Adore commercial. Charlize Theron demands the most beautiful woman in the world for dripping hot sexy.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for pure enchantment, goes to Christi Paul. The CNN’s Headline News anchor as well as for In Session on truTV. She is the ultimate girl next door with the prom queen beauty. But, there were some Miss America aspirations that could have come true as witnessed by her climb from Miss Mansfield to Miss Greater Cleveland as she worked her way up to running for Miss Ohio in 1993. WDTV was smart to hire her as broadcast journalism just seems to be in her blood. And now you know where I get my news spoon fed from the everyday. Christi Paul wears the most beautiful woman in the world crown for pure enchantment.

Robin Meade certainly shares the title of pure enchantment along with Christi Paul. With her adorable laugh and the new style she has brought to the news, I stay on top of what’s going on in the world today and it’s easy to figure out why. Plus, Robin’s song Welcome Home is a touching tribute to the troops who are fighting overseas and that means a lot to a veteran like me. But, the reason why I step out of protocol and share a title between these two gorgeous anchors from CNN is because their lives are so totally similar. Robin Meade was born in Ohio in 1969. However, she went on to become Miss Ohio in 1992 and was one of the top ten finalists in the 1993 Miss America Beauty Pageant. They both are married with children and living in Georgia. So, I tap Robin Meade to share the most beautiful woman in the world for pure enchantment with Christi Paul. It’s the most beautiful woman in the world for crying out loud! I’m sure they don’t have a problem sharing it.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for knocking my socks off entirely, goes to Scarlett Johansson. With only one exception, the mysterious skip in 2000, Scarlett has at the very least brought us something new every year since her inception in 1994 with North. Among my favorites are Lost in Translation, The Perfect Score, and In Good Company just to name a few. But, it’s when she plays the parts in such movies as He’s Just Not That Into You that you see her amazing sensuousness. Her wonderful laugh, the elegant look over her shoulder, even her ability to be innocent while entrenched in raw passion makes me fall in love with her over and over again. Scarlett Johansson epitomizes the most beautiful woman in the world for knocking my socks off entirely.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for endearing fascination, goes to Julie Bowen. Catching my attention in Ed, I immediately hung on her every scene. I cursed the director and the other actors who were stealing our precious time away from me. But then, she became the love interest in Happy Gilmore and Adam Sandler’s daydreams are nothing short of ingenious. She is the reason I became a fan of Boston Legal just like she’s the reason I watch Modern Family now. Her soft brown eyes can flash intense every once in awhile. But, her smile! It’s the kind of smile that radiates and it is very contagious. Julie Bowen exhibits utter greatness of the most beautiful woman in the world for endearing fascination.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for being drop dead gorgeous, goes to Diane Lane. She cannot be touched! Since 1979, she has touched my heart and I wasn’t even aware of how deeply then. But, I caught on when she exploded on the screen in Streets of Fire. That was the making of history. An all-time favorite of mine, I have enjoyed her in such greats as Chaplin, A Walk on the Moon and Under the Tuscan Sun. But, she brings it home in works like Jack, Judge Dred, and The Perfect Storm where she’s not the lead but she steals each scene. She’s class and elegance and everything you can say about a princess. A genuine model of all that is beautiful in the world, Diane Lane easily exemplifies the most beautiful woman in the world for being drop dead gorgeous.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for everlasting magnificence, goes to Ashley Judd. So powerful in her back story, she left her mother and sister while they were still on the road performing. She went off on her own to do her own thing and what a gift she has given us! She’s in a long line of favorites to cherish such as Double Jeopardy, High Crimes, and Where the Heart Is. She could easily become a cult classic with roles like Eye of the Beholder, Twisted, and Bug. She has the allure to bring fans from the outskirts into the mainstream because she can be pleasantly charming even when her character might be suffering from alcoholism, is mentally disturbed or grossly psychotic. Her beauty requires absolutely no makeup as she rocks the red carpet in dresses and skirts that she makes look good while trumping the beauty of all the celebrities who flock to take their pictures with her. Ashley Judd simply is the world’s most beautiful woman in the world for everlasting magnificence.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for redeeming grace, goes to Dana Delany. A routine Dana photo shoot can produce such great shots as the purple blouse with sexy hair in her eyes, the blue dress from Desperate Housewives, and the black shirt staring into the camera from Kidnapped. Truly amazing how effortlessly she makes it all look. I won’t mention her age, which is by far the most phenomenal feature about her beauty. My heart skipped a beat when she leaned against the tree in Tombstone. I’ve watched every ounce I could find of her since, watching old reruns of China Beach, Wild Palms and Sweet Surrender. Checking out Multiple Touches of Sarcasm, A Beautiful Life and even Route 30. But now, I will be able to get my weekly Dana dosage in Body of Proof. I can’t imagine this world without her! Dana Delany deserves the most beautiful woman in the world for redeeming grace.

As you can see, these ladies are not ranked from one to three as being the most beautiful woman in the world. They are simply the most beautiful woman in the world. They cannot be put in any kind of order at all. Furthermore, it was very difficult to narrow my choices down to just these three. But, I did it! I finally narrowed my choices down to only those whom I absolutely consider being the most beautiful woman in the world.

This panel acknowledges the fact that there is indeed a very beautiful woman in the world missing from this year’s choices. There are quite a few in fact including but not limited to farmer’s daughters, nuns, librarians, teachers, ex-girlfriends, sisters and my daughter, who are not included for legal reasons concerning my being on the panel, being its only panel member and to avoid any allegations of bias. It is only due to a sheer mental meltdown after making my selection that the rest of the most beautiful women in the world were not included.

[netmaddy-blog]

The Most Beautiful Woman in the World Award

New Post has been published on https://netmaddy.com/the-most-beautiful-woman-in-the-world-award/

The Most Beautiful Woman in the World Award

My adoration for women is actually a rather innocent one if I am allowed to judge myself. I will be more than happy to outline my criteria that define my own judgment, because it’s not righteous to be one’s own judge. But, I think I will let my results speak for themselves.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for most exotic beauty, goes to Jennifer Connelly. I cannot get her hair out my head from the movie Blood Diamond. Of course, she’s in the bushes in West Africa following the story of conflict diamonds and doesn’t have time to setup an appointment with a hairdresser. But when someone can be that gorgeous even under those circumstances, that’s what drives me wild. Forget the fact that I’ve been in love with her since I first saw her in Labyrinth and I’ve followed her career throughout some of my most favorite movies including House of Sand and Fog, Dark Water, and He’s Just Not That Into You. Jennifer Connelly steals away with the most beautiful woman in the world for most exotic beauty.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for being an unexpected hottie, goes to Jenna Fischer. I started watching The Office when it first came out in 2005 and I noticed the cute receptionist behind the desk. I loved the way she flirted with Jim and dealt with Michael. I was actually rooting for Jim and now he finally is with her, with a child and the whole nine yards. But then, I saw her on the cover of Shape in November 2009. It seriously was one of those Wow moments. Who in the world is that? The hottest little hottie to grace the cover of Shape, and I had no idea that the cool, cute receptionist from The Office was that gorgeous. Jenna Fischer takes by a landslide the most beautiful woman in the world for being an unexpected hottie.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for absolute adorability, goes to Jennifer Aniston. Bursting onto the scene in Friends, she caught everyone’s attention with her rich-girl innocence and her amazing beauty. The Rachel hairdo became a national hit. Millions of girls tuned in every week just to see what she was wearing. Even though she couldn’t miss no matter what she wore, she had some of the most famous outfits including the green dress in TOW No One’s Ready, the yellow dress in TOW All The Kissing, and the black dress in TOW Monica’s Thunder. Rachel Green owned that show and Jennifer Aniston went on to star in such favorites as Office Space, Along Came Polly, and The Break-Up. Jennifer Aniston sweeps the votes for the most beautiful woman in the world for absolute adorability.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for pure loveliness, goes to Angela Kinsey. Another unexpected beauty comes from The Office in the form of Angela Martin. She plays the straight-laced accountant who can’t stand inappropriate behavior, excessive indulgence or frivolous activities. However, she goes on to have an affair with both Dwight and Andy at the same time showing us that she too is human and not above temptation. But then, I saw Angela Kinsey sport a turquoise blouse with black shorts, high heels and straight blonde hair. That’s when I realized how perfectly gorgeous she really was. That was just the first of many enjoyable other-thanThe Office sightings including the red bikini top and cut off shorts on a day at the beach with her daughter, the blue dress at the premiere of “Meskada” after party, and a slew of red carpet outfits that knock me dead every time I see her. Angel Kinsey blasts the competition away for the most beautiful woman in the world for pure loveliness.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for stunning angel, goes to Emily Procter. Of course, I first noticed her as Calleigh Duquesne in CSI: Miami, a beautiful detective who was nice to everyone, but stern at times when the situation called for it. The first episode I watched was when a new officer was being introduced to the force and one of his first duties was as an observer of everything Calleigh was doing. She explained a few things to get him up to speed and then she welcomed him to the Miami Dade Police Department. Her eyes stayed fixed for what seemed like eternity and she flashed that smile that would haunt me for years. Emily Procter triumphs as the most beautiful woman in the world for stunning angel.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for sheer elegance, goes to Sasha Alexander. She hit the scene in her first memorable performance as Gretchen, Pacey’s older sister, in the wildly conflicted, overly dramatic, idealistic world of Dawson’s Creek. She and Dawson share a romance that is encumbered with too much thinking and not enough spontaneity, even though once in awhile you see sparks of an actual relationship in there somewhere. She immediately became one of the actresses who holds the status, “If she is in it, I will watch it.” Hence, my attention turned to NCIS when I saw her pure gorgeousness grace the show as the big sister type to the team. Obviously, I was heartbroken when she was murdered by Ari. But, Rizzoli & Isles have become the balm that soothes all ails. Sasha Alexander gallops away with the most beautiful woman in the world for sheer elegance.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for unmatched brilliance, goes to Beth Riesgraf. Repelling into my life as Parker in Leverage, she is a bit naïve about certain facts of life even though she is remarkably skilled in cracking safes, scaling buildings and gaining entrance whether legally or illegally. It’s the stern look that comes across her face when she is thinking about something as deep as she can, but her smile is mesmerizing. You melt when you see her fifty gorgeous expressions. Where has she been all my life? She pulls off beautifully the rock and roll blonde, the straight hair formal and the runway yellow dress with designer pocketbook to match. Beth Riesgraf lifts the most beautiful woman in the world for unmatched brilliance.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for stealing the show, goes to Natalie Portman. Of course, she had been in Anywhere But Here and Beautiful Girls along with a slew of other huge hits. But, I didn’t sit up and notice her until a pregnant girl with no shoes is abandoned at America’s department store in Where the Heart Is. Adopted by a crazy couple, she grew from a childish teenager into a professional lady who finally learns how to trust her heart again. From then on, I have not been able to take my eyes off of her. She rocks the innocent look in Sesame Street while dominating sexy in such works as Black Swan and No Strings Attached. Natalie Portman is hands down the most beautiful woman in the world for stealing the show.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for total whiplash head turner, goes to Katherine Heigl. When you see her smile from the side in that infamous “sucker” scene in The Ugly Truth, your heart passionately screams, “I want to be in that guy’s shoes.” She’s down to earth playful, seriously red carpet hot and even pulls off the bad hair day with beauty most runway models would die to embody. I think I love her most when she’s facing her own mortality in Grey’s Anatomy “Good Mourning” or facing someone else’s in “Dream a Little Dream.” It’s in those deadly serious moments that you find her true beauty glowing from within. Katherine Heigl rules the most beautiful woman in the world for total whiplash head turner.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for dripping hot sexy, goes to Charlize Theron. When she caught my attention in The Devil’s Advocate, I thought to myself that someone would literally have to be daft to drift away from her into a meaningless marriage. But, that was written into the script. Just look at how she rocked Mighty Joe Young, Reindeer Games, The Italian Job and Hancock. She even made a serial killer seem likable in Monster. But to really understand the jaw dropping, massive coronary, stand-there-with-nothing-to-say pure sexiness Charlize exudes, all you have to do is witness her raw amour as she walks down the hallway leaving layers of clothing behind in the renowned Dior J’Adore commercial. Charlize Theron demands the most beautiful woman in the world for dripping hot sexy.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for pure enchantment, goes to Christi Paul. The CNN’s Headline News anchor as well as for In Session on truTV. She is the ultimate girl next door with the prom queen beauty. But, there were some Miss America aspirations that could have come true as witnessed by her climb from Miss Mansfield to Miss Greater Cleveland as she worked her way up to running for Miss Ohio in 1993. WDTV was smart to hire her as broadcast journalism just seems to be in her blood. And now you know where I get my news spoon fed from everyday. Christi Paul wears the most beautiful woman in the world crown for pure enchantment.

Robin Meade certainly shares the title of pure enchantment along with Christi Paul. With her adorable laugh and the new style she has brought to the news, I stay on top of what’s going on in the world today and it’s easy to figure out why. Plus, Robin’s song Welcome Home is a touching tribute to the troops who are fighting overseas and that means a lot to a veteran like me. But, the reason why I step out of protocol and share a title between these two gorgeous anchors from CNN is because their lives are so totally similar. Robin Meade was born in Ohio in 1969. However, she went on to become Miss Ohio in 1992 and was one of the top ten finalists in the 1993 Miss America Beauty Pageant. They both are married with children and living in Georgia. So, I tap Robin Meade to share the most beautiful woman in the world for pure enchantment with Christi Paul. It’s the most beautiful woman in the world for crying out loud! I’m sure they don’t have a problem sharing it.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for knocking my socks off entirely, goes to Scarlett Johansson. With only one exception, the mysterious skip in 2000, Scarlett has at the very least brought us something new every year since her inception in 1994 with North. Among my favorites are Lost in Translation, The Perfect Score, and In Good Company just to name a few. But, it’s when she plays the parts in such movies as He’s Just Not That Into You that you see her amazing sensuousness. Her wonderful laugh, the elegant look over her shoulder, even her ability to be innocent while entrenched in raw passion makes me fall in love with her over and over again. Scarlett Johansson epitomizes the most beautiful woman in the world for knocking my socks off entirely.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for endearing fascination, goes to Julie Bowen. Catching my attention in Ed, I immediately hung on her every scene. I cursed the director and the other actors who were stealing our precious time away from me. But then, she became the love interest in Happy Gilmore and Adam Sandler’s daydreams are nothing short of ingenious. She is the reason I became a fan of Boston Legal just like she’s the reason I watch Modern Family now. Her soft brown eyes can flash intense every once in awhile. But, her smile! It’s the kind of smile that radiates and it is very contagious. Julie Bowen exhibits utter greatness of the most beautiful woman in the world for endearing fascination.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for being drop dead gorgeous, goes to Diane Lane. She cannot be touched! Since 1979, she has touched my heart and I wasn’t even aware of how deeply then. But, I caught on when she exploded on the screen in Streets of Fire. That was the making of history. An all-time favorite of mine, I have enjoyed her in such greats as Chaplin, A Walk on the Moon and Under the Tuscan Sun. But, she brings it home in works like Jack, Judge Dred, and The Perfect Storm where she’s not the lead but she steals each scene. She’s class and elegance and everything you can say about a princess. A genuine model of all that is beautiful in the world, Diane Lane easily exemplifies the most beautiful woman in the world for being drop dead gorgeous.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for everlasting magnificence, goes to Ashley Judd. So powerful in her back story, she left her mother and sister while they were still on the road performing. She went off on her own to do her own thing and what a gift she has given us! She’s in a long line of favorites to cherish such as Double Jeopardy, High Crimes, and Where the Heart Is. She could easily become a cult classic with roles like Eye of the Beholder, Twisted and Bug. She has the allure to bring fans from the outskirts into the mainstream because she can be pleasantly charming even when her character might be suffering from alcoholism, is mentally disturbed or grossly psychotic. Her beauty requires absolutely no makeup as she rocks the red carpet in dresses and skirts that she makes look good, while trumping the beauty of all the celebrities who flock to take their pictures with her. Ashley Judd simply is the world’s most beautiful woman in the world for everlasting magnificence.

The most beautiful woman in the world, for redeeming grace, goes to Dana Delany. A routine Dana photo shoot can produce such great shots as the purple blouse with sexy hair in her eyes, the blue dress from Desperate Housewives, and the black shirt staring into the camera from Kidnapped. Truly amazing how effortlessly she makes it all look. I won’t mention her age, which is by far the most phenomenal feature about her beauty. My heart skipped a beat when she leaned against the tree in Tombstone. I’ve watched every ounce I could find of her since, catching old reruns of China Beach, Wild Palms and Sweet Surrender. Checking out Multiple Sarcasms, A Beautiful Life and even Route 30. But now, I will be able to get my weekly Dana dosage in Body of Proof. I can’t imagine this world without her! Dana Delany deserves most beautiful woman in the world for redeeming grace.

As you can see, these ladies are not ranked from one to three as being the most beautiful woman in the world. They are simply the most beautiful woman in the world. They cannot be put in any kind of order at all. Furthermore, it was very difficult to narrow my choices down to just these three. But, I did it! I finally narrowed my choices down to only those whom I absolutely consider to be the most beautiful woman in the world.

This panel acknowledges the fact that there is indeed a very beautiful woman in the world missing from this year’s choices. There are quite a few in fact including but not limited to farmer’s daughters, nuns, librarians, teachers, ex-girlfriends, sisters and my daughter, who are not included for legal reasons concerning my being on the panel, being its only panel member and to avoid any allegations of bias. It is only due to a sheer mental meltdown after making my selection that the rest of the most beautiful women in the world were not included.

[theomegakitty]

VSWID and Character Comedy

Playlist link:  https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLlRceUcRZcK1zbWYtY6BZHQg4sE3_macD

Disclaimer: I’ve never met or spoken with Jim Sterling in any capacity. This is just an opinion/analysis I need to get off my chest.  

     I’ve seen most episodes of Jim Sterling’s brilliant series ‘The Video Game Show What I Done’ at least a half-dozen times, and the only reason that doesn’t apply to them all is because the ‘Nioh’ episode is too new for me to have repeat-watched as many times as the others. If life had many instances where jokes from this show could be fittingly quoted I would be the first one quoting them. Any time I watch an episode I marvel at the timing, technique, and invention displayed throughout it. It’s clear that Sterling has been honing his abilities over years and hundreds of scripted videos, and VSWID (as I will refer to it from now on) may be my second-for-second favorite work of his. If you’re willing to go along with the crude yet ultimately harmless sense of humor it’s a riotous, deceptively well-crafted series that takes less time to watch than an episode of ‘Twin Peaks’ and is just as bizarre.

     Yet I feel alone in this opinion. Maybe alone is a strong word, but the dislike bars on these videos are always proportionately higher than they are on the less controversial Jimquisitions, sometimes much more so, and dissenting comments are less comprised of the random fury that a lot of highly viewed (relatively speaking) videos get than they are made up of confusion and even frustration, questioning if the series is “centered around a private joke [they’re] not privy to” or feeling the joke just didn’t click, despite them noticing the “sarcasm” at play. And that’s cool. A series as intentionally malformed as this one is going to leave some people stumped, especially when done by someone who frequently comments on the business of video games. When he makes a joke involving ‘Overwatch’ it makes sense to assume that the joke is directed at ‘Overwatch’ itself, since criticisms have been made by Sterling toward the game’s loot crate system and other elements of the game and its business practices. It’s a logical way of thinking, but it’s not one I agree with. The joke of VSWID is not at the video games it is focusing on. The reason VSWID works is not because it’s satire, as some believe it is, but because of Rory Fingers.

    Rory Fingers is the fictional host of VSWID as played by Sterling. Rory, as a character, is difficult to summarize because of the dimensions present in the writing. At first glance Rory is rambling and unprofessional. He’ll stumble through a poor a capella version of Vampire Killer from ‘Castlevania’ for over forty seconds before being rudely interrupted by the death of Simon Belmont onscreen. His videos are slapdash (the zoomed in screen cutting off the score counter in ‘Mega Man’), his gameplay footage is terrible - he rarely understands anything about the games he plays - and his puns capping off videos/segments are given such half-hearted delivery that it’s as if he came up with them on the spot and isn’t sure if he should say them. This is to say nothing of how he gets names wrong and twists words around (Robot Nick is an example of both), but the main takeaway here is that Rory is not very good at making videos. That alone is probably enough to hang a video on. After all, many of us have tried our hand at making Let’s Plays or other types of videos without realizing how feigned our charisma is and how little polish the video itself has, and that can be easily parodied, which is what he frequently does. In the aforementioned Vampire Killer gag the joke runs longer than you expect it to, and it veers dangerously close to anti-humor before the end of the bit and the end of the player character’s life are connected. He was singing until he died, and by having that clear, motivated end point the joke hits. That’s Sterling’s attention to the principles of comedy but there’s more to Rory than parody. He’s a character, not a punching bag, and Sterling understands that the bar must be raised beyond concocted incompetence in order to keep the viewer watching for more than a single video. That’s why the dark side of VSWID is so crucial to its working as a series rather than a one-off.

     Rory is unwell. He throws tantrums, has to take “yellow pills for a year” to calm him down, and has a life coach - allegedly not assigned to him by the state. The videos imply much but only state the essentials, leaving the viewer to make up stories or piece together exactly what happened to, say, go from clarinet lessons to “many many scorpions so many scorpions”. The point is completely separate from the topic he was initially talking about (that being the requirement to pay for Skyrim DLC). It’s there for two reasons, the first being that implanting disturbing imagery in a semi-innocent way is a good way to get a reactionary laugh but its primary function is the second reason, which is to provide the viewer with understanding of how Rory sees the world around him. The incest joke in the ‘Doom’ video works as shock humor but what makes it land is that Rory genuinely seems like the kind of character who would believe that wanting to do “deep-kissing” with his mother is just another part of being a person. Him making the connection between violence in Street Fighter and his father’s violent assault (which I won’t spoil) is funny because the act itself is ludicrous but also because the connection makes sense in Rory’s head. But shock humor can become tiresome if not grounded in an attempt at empathy, which is why the third dimension to Rory’s character (the first being incompetence and the second being his disturbed nature) is the most important reason for why the show works as well as it does: Rory is an innocent .

    Whenever Rory does something wrong I’ve never felt it was out of ulterior motives or actual malice. If it were the character would sour the whole show. Instead, Rory is a creature of childlike instinct. He throws chicken legs at people when he’s “sad” (a perfect word choice to convey how simple and blunt the character is) and gets mad when his grandparents give him socks instead of video games for Christmas. None of this comes from a place of hatred, just a place of childish selfishness. He hurts others without realizing it because he hasn’t developed the empathy that Sterling’s adult voice (and therefore supposed adult age of the character) would suggest. And yet, though he speaks from a current perspective of PS4s and emulators, he still speaks as though he’s a child, despite the ‘Street Fighter II’ video stating that he’s been playing the game since at least 1998*. The way he both resents and idolizes his brother’s ability at video games. The way he’s seemingly cared after by others. The way he makes jokes that everyone on Earth has made with zero sense of irony (from the character, not Sterling). His penis is a constant source of enjoyment and he doesn’t care who knows it, and though that’s true of a good number of people the character’s obliviousness of that taboo (however mild) indicates Rory’s lack of understanding of the world around him. He’s Norman Bates with Open Broadcast Software and a microphone, and the unfiltered nature of the internet means he’s free to say whatever he wants without consequence.

     Rory reminds me of Mr. Plinkett, which considering Sterling has used RedLetterMedia content in his videos is not an unfair comparison to make. Both are disturbed personalities let loose via internet critique, but I think I prefer Sterling’s approach. Because Rory is (unwittingly) just as much as a victim as those affected by his condition Sterling invites the viewer to laugh at his behavior while finding his affliction pitiable. Plinkett, meanwhile, is disturbed without there being a point of empathetic entry for the viewer. He does such terrible things (and the RLM guys show enough disturbing imagery) that the viewer can’t understand his plight and the gag comes off as mean-spirited as a result**. He’s just too much of a monster. Conversely, Rory’s actions are unwitting, meaning that when Sterling asks the viewer to laugh at how pathetic this character is we are able to because Rory, though a victim, is a little shit. 

     And we’ve all been little shits at some point, right? We’ve all done stuff in our childhood that we’ve regretted, despite it being because we were kids, so Sterling uses that truth (at least for me) to invite us to laugh at ourselves. Though maybe not to the extent of Rory we’ve treated family members and friends like garbage at one point or another, and Sterling uses that fact as a jumping off point to create a character who is this inclination heightened to the point of ridiculousness. Because none of us are perfect, especially when we’re kids. Rory simply never grew out of that mindset because the world around him was so sickening, so he retreats into his comfort zone online and posts videos with the delusion of competence. If you’re reading this then maybe there’s some part of that idea that rings true, and Sterling understands that. We need to find humor in our natural awfulness lest we forget about it and pretend it doesn’t exist. VSWID is a show about an uninformed, disturbed, child-like, easily upset manchild who vents his frustrations through Youtube. Even if that’s not you then it’s likely you know someone like that. And, let’s be honest, that person is kinda funny. But Rory is a creation all his own, and Sterling knows that by heightening the awfulness to absurd levels it becomes easy to laugh at human folly. I can’t wait for the next episode.

* I realize that this may just be a continuity error or something. I still think it’s worth commenting on.

** I love RedLetterMedia to death and I’ve seen the Plinkett videos several times, but the story segments of those particular videos are my least favourite RLM content and I skip them when I can. Just wanted to clarify before people call me a hater.