#John Miller Radio Personally

[meet-me-backstage]

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𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐨

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ☼ Rancher!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ☼ You, a headstrong—bubbly ranch-hand, form a close bond with the reserved ranch-owner, Joel Miller, through two seasons of hard work, warmth, and unspoken longing. You leave to chase your dream, but circumstance brings Joel back into your life. A storm rolls over your land, something between you stirs—unresolved and waiting to burst.

𝑭𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ☼ a no outbreak au loosely inspired by Far From The Madding Crowd but it’s set in modern day/Texas, rancher!Joel (🥵), protective!Joel, grumpy x sunshine, bad language, light angst, mention of vomit & there’s blood after an incident with a hammer, age gap (reader is in her 20s & Joel is in his 50s), kinda slowburny, unresolved feelings (until they aren’t hehe), yearrrrrning and SMUUUUT so you must be 18+ to read this story‼️

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨 ☼ 7.2K

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨 ☼ bad language, smutty thoughtssss on paper (🤭), light angst, alleged ghosting (letter edition), unresolved feelings, allusion to a pet’s death, yearning n jealousy.

A/N: The letters in this part include crossed out parts like this… they are what both reader and Joel wrote but crossed out so the other couldn’t see!!

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲! 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚 ‘𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 & 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐨’ 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭! <𝟑

⇜ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞



‘Joel,

You’ll never believe it — I made it. The ranch is mine. Mine for real. My name’s on the papers and the land — the mailbox out front too. I know you probably figured I would, after how much I ran my mouth about it, but I still wanted to tell you. You were the first person I wanted to tell.

It’s not much — two of the greenest pastures I’ve ever seen, a beat-up old house with shutters and a wraparound porch just like yours… and a barn that leans a little too much when the wind kicks up. It’s a fixer upper but it’s all I ever dreamed of, Joel.

Juno’s already taken to the place like she was born here. She chases butterflies and herds the chickens (she thinks they’ll respond the same as sheep. Spoiler: they don’t). Makes me laugh every day. She’s exactly like her pa — too clever for her own good, and loyal as anything. Looks exactly like George when he was a pup with the one floppy ear. I think she misses you both.

Think I do too.

I hope you and George are well (and lake Isabella! Oh and Clint — the sheep too! How could I forget them!)

Anyway, the chicken coop needs fixing so I’d better stop writing and start working.

— Sunshine’

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‘Sunshine (guess that name’s sticking),

Got your letter. I know you said you would write. Still — I didn’t expect it.

Thought you might have already forgotten about me.

Glad to know you made it safe, and that the land’s everything you were hoping for. Sounds like you’re keeping real busy—which don’t surprise me none.

Had to laugh a little at the image of Juno herding the chickens. I can just picture it. Bet she’s still got that same stubborn streak as you too — don’t give up easy.

Things here are alright. Same as usual. Lake Isabella’s been running lower than I’d like — think she’s missing you. But I manage. Sheep are still ornery as hell, and old George sleeps more than he works these days. Can’t say I blame him.

I won’t lie—it’s quieter around here. Bit too quiet, some days. Not used to missing the sound of someone yapping at me while I work, but here I am fixing my damn radio just to find one of them tunes you would sing to Dixie. I’ve been trying to get my pa’s old radio working — was just about to give it a go but your letter came and now I know no fucking Sabrina Carpenter or John Denver song is gonna make me miss you less finally.

Hope your land keeps thriving. You deserve that. You deserve your dream, darling — keep chasing it.

— Joel’

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‘Joel,

Built the first proper fence today, all on my own. Got blisters all over my palms, and I cursed loud enough to wake the whole county. But I did it. Dixie nearly chewed through the rope post again, Juno dug up one of my tomato plants, and the hens laid eggs in the hayloft instead of the coop... I'm figuring it out.

Speaking of the coop — I fixed it. Took me the better part of a week and two splinters I'm still digging out of my fingers, but the hens are roosting proper now. There's one that reminds me of you—serious little thing, always standing off to the side like she's making sure everyone else is behaving. I named her Judith, but I'm tempted to rename her Joel.

The evenings are the hardest part. Everything goes still out here when the sun dips behind the ridge and work is done for the day. It's quiet in the way that makes you think too much. I sit on the porch with Juno at my feet (she's getting so big already), and I keep expecting to hear your boots on the porch boards.

I wonder what you’re up to all the time.

Sometimes I wonder what you're up to—whether you're still waking up before dawn, still arguing with George over who gets to herd the sheep. I hope things are good. I hope your fences are holding up better than mine.

Did you get that radio working?

I got one for my porch.

Do you turn yours on just to fill in the silence too? What about when you miss hearing my voice? If you do miss my voice. It’s what I do when I miss hearing yours.

They’re fiddly things aren’t they?

Juno sends her love (in slobber, mostly).

— your Sunshine’

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‘Sunshine,

Read your letter four two times, then once more just to make sure I didn’t miss anything.

I let out a real belly laugh when I read about that hen of yours. Haven’t laughed like that in a long while. Not since you were here, trying to chase that lamb into the barn. You ended up flat on your ass in the mud and pretended it was “international land awareness”. George side-eyed me like I’d lost my damn mind. Think maybe I have.

He misses you. Whines more than usual, always wants to take the long trail past the lake like he's expecting you to be there, splashing about or sitting on that rock and tossing pebbles. He barks for you outside your cabin every morning, thinking you're needing a wake up call. Every time the mail comes, he runs out to the box — he knows it's from you — no one bothers to write me as often as you do. Don't know if that means something — if I mean something to you. I'm in my damn head too much. Clearly. He brings the envelopes to me like they’re some kind of treasure. I keep them like they are. They've gotta be some of the most precious things I own.

Radio’s working again. Took some fiddling alright, but I got it. Picks up this one station late at night — plays old country, mostly. There’s a hum it makes, right before the music kicks in. Caught me off guard the first time. Thought maybe you were there, talking soft about nothing and everything like you used to. Funny what your mind does when the silence is just… empty. Used to like it. I don’t anymore. I hate it.

Juno sounds hellbent on undoing half your work, but I can’t say I’m surprised. She really has got your stubborn streak. You’re fighting tooth and nail out there, and I got no doubt you’ll make something special of that land. You always had a way of making things grow, even when they didn’t want to.

Stay safe. Don’t forget to eat. Do you miss those dinner’s with me out on the porch? I miss making them for you.

— Joel’

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‘Joel,

Damn you for reminding me of that day. I still remember how smug you looked when you wrangled that lamb in like it was no big deal while I sat there soaked and sulking — still yelling like I had any pride left to salvage.

Tell George I miss him too. Just picturing him waiting by the mailbox like that… Joel, you’re gonna make me cry and I can’t afford to cry around the livestock. They’ll start expecting gourmet meals if they sense weakness. I hope you’ve been taking him down the trail still — even if I’m not there to cannonball in the lake with him.

There’s a river that runs right through the pastures — Juno loves it. She’d love lake Isabella more.

I finally got the irrigation system working with a little help from the guy at the feed store who I think was more interested in flirting than fixing, but hey, we got water. The sheep are healthy. Juno’s learning so fast — I think she’s as good at herding as George already. When she’s working the field, I catch myself thinking how proud George would be of her... and how proud you’d be if you saw me now.

I finished fixing the entire fence line myself today. Took me nearly all day — pounding in posts, pulling wire — maybe I did cuss at the sun a few times but neither of my pinkies were harmed, I promise.

Write back as soon as you get this when you can.

(Ps. Judith is nesting in my toolbox now)

— Sunshine’

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‘Sunshine,

I told George. I think he got the gist. He wagged his tail, ran three laps around the barn, and then sat by the trailhead looking ready to bolt the second I unlatched the gate. Took him down there yesterday. Water’s cold as usual, but he went in anyway. I ain’t been in the mood to swim — afraid I’ll catch myself thinking too hard about the water glinting off your skin, the sunlight on your cheeks, that pretty laugh and those perfect tits of yours that day you got me in the water. Me and Clint watched George from the shore. Didn’t help. I fell asleep after a while with my hat over my face and dreamed about you just laying right next to me anyway. Maybe spreading those thighs and getting a taste of you out in the open… right by the lake. Fuck.

Can’t say the old dog misses you any less — can’t say this old cowboy does neither — as the season’s pass. When your letter came, he carried it inside himself. Dropped it right on the porch, then stared at me as if to say: ‘well, read it, dumbass’. I did. I kept re-reading it — twenty-four times don’t know how many times, enough to make me think I already replied. That’s why it’s taken me a while to write this. Sorry, darling.

If I was standing in that pasture with you, watching Juno run and you fixing fences like it was nothing, I’d tell you plain — I’m proud as hell.

Keep writing if you’ve got the time. I’ll be waiting George’ll be waiting either way.

(Ps. Who’s this feed store guy you mentioned? Is it Troy? Please say it ain’t Troy. That boy’s way too good looking for his own good and he knows it. Way to sound like a jealous asshole Is Judith still Queen of your toolbox?)

— Joel’

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‘Joel,

Just when I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me the mailman delivered your letter. Think I gave the poor man a heart attack by the way I squealed when I saw your handwriting.

Is everything okay?

Are you okay?

If George keeps bringing my letters in like that, I might have to send him a treat basket full of bacon.

I think about that day at the lake too — all the time think it’s still my favorite memory with you of last summer. It’s also still the only way I can get off at night. Remembering how you looked, sunburned and dripping wet, hands running through your hair — wonder what they’d feel like touching all over me instead. What the fuck. He doesn’t need to know that. The pebbles under the water looked like old coins — I remember making a wish. I wish you’d kissed me. Woulda topped that day off with a cherry on top if you did it came true.

Things are coming along just fine… would you believe it if I told you the house is finally finished? Took every spare hour I had, but the porch is steady, the roof doesn’t leak, and I even got all the trim painted before the snow came in. Most days I walk through the rooms barefoot just to feel the floorboards under me, to remind myself I did all this from the ground up with my own two hands (well, kinda). I ran into some trouble with the water pressure in the kitchen sink — was gonna ask you if you could help but you’re so far away, too far away… and you’re always so busy Troy turned up in the nick of time.

He’s around a lot — the feed store guy who flirted more than he fixed? Turns out he’s not so bad with a wrench. He helped with the last stretch of plumbing, and now he keeps showing up with little things he swears the place “needs” — a bird feeder, a coat hook shaped like a horse head, a pie from his aunt. I’m starting to think he might have a crush on me.

Anyway — onto the last building job on my list; the barn. Wish me luck (I’m gonna need it).

(Ps. Judith’s got her own roost now. Top shelf of the tool shed. She’s got better real estate than I do.)

— Sunshine’

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‘Sunshine,

Now — don't go threatening my dog with bacon baskets unless you're ready to follow through. He's already spoiled as sin.

Your letters are about the only thing I look forward to these days. Was that too much? Fuck it. I’m leaving it in. I don’t reckon I’ll ever forget the way your handwriting looks — I’ll never forget you neither no matter how long it’s been. I sat with your last letter for a while before opening it. Just… held it. You ever get that way? With my letters maybe? Like if you open it too fast it’ll slip right through your fingers? Like when you slipped through mine the day you left.

Been a rough couple months. The Ranch is hanging on by a thread this Spring. Drought’s hitting hard, grass won’t grow right, and the fence line’s falling faster than I can patch it. Feels like I’m trying to hold the place together with both hands and nothing to show for it but blisters and another night of not sleeping. Ain’t nothing I can’t handle.

George — he’s slowing down. Took him near fifteen minutes to get up the back steps yesterday. His eyes are bright, but he don’t play like he used to. He’s slacking at herding too — lost a couple sheep just the other day cause he couldn’t hear me calling and his sight ain’t as good as it was. But he perks up when I say your name — or “bacon” (if that ain’t selective hearing I don’t know what is). Still whines at the trailhead by the lake. Still waits on your letters like a lovesick pup too.

As for me — I’m falling apart fine keeping busy. Fixed the barn door last week and got the south field tilled as best I could — my back’s begging me for mercy. You don’t gotta worry about me though.

You do gotta worry about this Troy fella. I remember him. The one with the shiny truck and the big mouth. He still got that slicked back hair? He’s a fucking asshole Can’t say I like him all that much — can’t say I blame him for being sweet on you neither. Maybe he sees what I should’ve held onto tighter. I don’t like the sound of him hanging around. A man brings gifts like that, it ain’t cause the house needs a coat hook. He’s trying to put down roots in something you built from scratch. I know I ain’t got a say but that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about knocking on that feed store door and letting him know he oughta tread real careful. Just… don’t let someone sweet-talk you into settling for something smaller than you deserve. You built that house. You’re building that life. You don’t need someone coasting on your hard work like it’s his own. I mean it.

Keep going. That barn’s gonna stand tall, just like the rest of what you built. If you get stuck or need someone to scare off Troy… well. You know who to call (not fucking Troy. Anyone but fucking Troy). I might not have much left here, but I still got that hammer and two good hands.

(Ps. Can’t quite make out what your wish was. Next time don’t cross it out so I can make it come true… if it ain’t too late.)

(Pps. Plenty of things I wish I’d done to you that day.)

— Joel’

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‘Joel,

I hope Georgie is feeling better after feasting on the bacon from the treat basket I sent. Did you get the Polaroid of me and Juno? Did you recognize her? I can’t believe she’s almost one already. Did you get the one of the house too? The land? The sheep? Dixie? Oh, and Judith in her toolshed condo? I tucked them all into the side so they wouldn’t fall out.

I didn’t write back right away. I pressed your letter flat against my chest and held it there a while — giggling like I was sixteen again. I figured I should cool off before saying something I couldn’t take back — but you and I both know I was never any good at keeping my mouth shut.

Your letter — what you wrote about Troy — I heard it loud and clear. I ain't letting him lay claim. Not now. Not ever. This place is mine. My blood's in the soil, my sweat's in every wall. And my heart... well. That’s with you That's another story.

You said you couldn’t make out what I’d written in that last letter. The part I crossed out. You always said I was braver than I gave myself credit for. So here goes I guess:

I wished you’d kissed me in the lake.

When I was wet-haired and laughing you looked at me like I was some answer you’d been waiting years to find (I wasn’t imagining it, was I?) and in that moment I needed you to do it more than I needed to buy my own land. I needed your hands on me so bad — maybe on my cheeks first, all soft and careful like the way you held my pinkie finger that same day… then maybe slipping down to my waist… maybe lower.

You should’ve kissed me, Joel.

I know we can’t go back in time. But that doesn’t stop me from replaying it like we can. Over and over. Trying to imagine what would’ve happened if you did. Maybe I wouldn’t be writing this from an empty bed.

Why did you splash me instead?

I’ve been so buried in this barn rebuild I barely know what day it is. I’m either on a ladder or carrying lumber and paint buckets these days so Troy offered to drop my letters in the post — I’m taking him up on that until I can catch my breath again. Don’t roll your eyes — it’s just postage, not a proposal.

(Ps. If you ever needed a reason to come by, the barn could sure use your hands… I could too. Just saying. You’re the only one I’d trust to help me finish it right.)

(Pps. Maybe then you could decide if it’s too late to make my wish come true.)

— your Sunshine’

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‘Joel,

I keep telling myself that the ranch is keeping you up to your elbows in work — that you’re probably too tired to pick up a pen and write me by the end of the day. But I ain’t gonna lie and say it hasn’t crossed my mind that maybe it’s me… maybe it was what I wrote before. I should’ve kept that stupid little wish to myself instead of spilling it all over the stupid page like an idiot who doesn’t know when to zip it.

Maybe I crossed a line.

Maybe I scared you off.

Maybe it was too much.

Maybe I was too much.

I’m sorry if I was.

I didn’t mean to throw it at you like that. You did ask. All I did was answer. What did you want me to do? Lie? I didn’t want to lie. I couldn’t lie. You always knew when I was lying. You woulda seen straight through my writing too. I’m sure of it.

You don’t have to write nothing about it.

Forget I even wrote it.

I’d rather you forget it than stop writing altogether.

I could still do with an extra pair of hands with the barn… if you’re still offering.

— still your Sunshine’

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‘Joel,

I’m not sure if you’re just real busy or if my last few letters have found their way into the bottom of a drawer somewhere — but I’ll keep writing anyway. Feels strange not to. You’ve always been the one I wanted to tell things to, even the boring stuff.

The barn’s coming along. Slowly. And stubbornly. Every beam I put up feels like an argument I’m winning. The roof’s half done, and I’ve managed not to fall off it (yet). Troy keeps showing up with his sleeves rolled and something smug on his face. There's been some talk around town lately — folks with big mouths and not much else to do, I guess it was bound to happen with the amount of time Troy spends here. I don’t know if word’s gotten all the way out to you, but he's just been helping with the barn, hanging around because I needed the hands and he's got the time… it's never been anything more than that. It's never even crossed my mind to want more than that — not when my heart's already with you at your ranch someplace else, and it's not anywhere Troy could ever reach.

It's not him I'm waiting for when the evenings get quiet and the sky turns that deep blue I know you love. He's not the one I’m awake for at ridiculous hours to write letters like this. I guess they don't really matter to you anymore (if they ever even did). Still — I needed you to read it from me, not to hear it twisted from anybody else.

— Sunshine’

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‘Joel,

The mailbox is collecting nothing but dust — either way, I thought you oughta know: the barn’s built.

Finally.

There’s a couple boards that don’t sit flush, and if you look close you’ll see where I had to patch up some mistakes, but it’s standing proud and strong and somehow still here after the first big rain. Sometimes I catch myself talking to it like it’s alive, like it knows how much I gave just to see it finished. I think you’d understand that better than most.

Today I left the back door open and just sat in the middle of the floor, watching the sun pour in.

It’s funny. I thought once it was done, I’d feel… finished, too. Like maybe I could stop chasing this vision I’ve had for myself and just enjoy it. It’s all I’ve known for as long as I can remember — this dream of having land of my own. It was all I needed. But as I was sitting there, all I could think about was how wrong empty it felt without you.

Now it feels like I built this place hoping someone else might come find a home in it with me. (You.)

Would you come see it? Bring George with you?

Juno’d love it. I would too.

It’s just us, Dixie and the livestock.

Troy’s found someone new to charm, I suppose — and I’m glad for it (you’ll be glad to know too, or not… I don’t know anymore). He still takes my letters but he don’t linger no more. Feels better that way, cleaner somehow, like maybe the land itself shook off all the things that didn’t belong. Hasn’t stopped the rumors though. You probably heard the latest ones, that we’re shacked up and married with six kids, oh, and that there was a ring in the last pie Troy brought over from his aunt’s… surely you don’t believe any of it.

If you could see the way I sit out on the porch at night with Juno at my feet (she insists on taking that gingham blanket you wrapped her up in for me everywhere she goes even though she’s way too big for it now). She leaves a little space for George and I leave a space beside me for you in case the two of you might appear and watch the stars with us like we never left you both behind. Maybe then you’d know that no matter what gets spread outside our gates, our hearts are where I’m afraid they’ve always been — Juno’s with her old pa and mine with you.

You can forget I ever wrote this too… please don’t.

(Ps. The barn’s got a good corner stall. Big enough for a brute like Clint, or a man if he needed a place to lay low for a while.)

(Pps. I’m afraid Judith has moved into the spare lodging and she likes screaming real loud in the morning. She also likes pecking Troy’s boots so hard he trips and falls every time — and she’s been laying eggs like a machine… Might be the only girl on this land who’s got her shit together.)

— always your Sunshine’

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‘Joel,

I've stopped waiting by the mailbox, mostly. Told myself I wouldn't keep count of the days since your last letter, but I have. It's been one hundred and eighty-two. I don't even know if you still live at the same place, if my words are just sitting in some pile you never open. If you’ve grown tired of me.

You said once you didn’t mind the sound of my voice — even when it wouldn't quit… you also said once that you cared about me but you can’t be bothered to answer any of my damn letters?

You’re so full of shit. Asshole.

It's been hard not hearing from you. I would only think about you when the work got quiet, or when I was sore at the end of a long day. But now it's all the time. Like missing you is something I do alongside breathing.

Why did you stop writing?

Was what I wrote really that bad?

Was it cause I told you I was gonna leave someday?

Was it cause you never let yourself need anything that could walk away from you?

Was it cause you don’t feel the same and didn’t have the guts to write it?

I spent so long believing you were just quiet. That maybe you couldn't find the words. That maybe the silence meant something tender. But now I'm thinking it was just silence. I’m a big girl, I can handle getting hit with rejection… but you know I can’t handle empty silence. You know how much I hate it.

All I’m asking for is a few lines from you. Just something so I know you’re still alive, that you haven’t forgotten me entirely.

(Ps. The ranch is growing. I bought another few acres to the south — orchard land. I think I'm gonna try peaches.)

— still your Sunshine’

༺ 🐑 ༻

‘Joel,

This’ll be the last letter, I think. Even a chatterbox like me can only keep talking to silence for so long before I start to feel like I’m going crazy.

My house — my barn — my land… it looks how I always dreamed it would. It’s the kind of place I used to draw in my notebooks when I was little, the kind of place I thought maybe only existed in stories. It’s everything I told you I needed. I just didn’t realize it at the time, that I needed you too. Not until now.

Juno’s keeping watch, sitting at the edge of the porch like she owns the place, ears perked and eyes sharp, even though she knows there’s nothing dangerous out here but her own loneliness. Mine too.

We can’t keep waiting on you to answer like this. She’s got sheep to herd. I’ve got land to maintain, livestock to look after, peaches and flowers to pick. I can’t even swim in the river anymore without thinking about how much I needed you to kiss me in lake Isabella. I think part of me's still floating there, waiting for you to pull me closer, a warm hand on my hip, sun in your eyes, asking if it's okay before you do it. You could’ve just done it and I would’ve let you… but you didn’t.

I’m sitting here with my pen hovering over this page, trying to find the right way to prove I’ve meant every word I’ve written you without making things worse than I already have.

I love

Fuck

Am I really gonna write this

Fuck it

You’re not gonna read it anyway

I love you, Joel Miller.

Always did.

Probably always will. But I need to stop reaching for something that doesn’t wanna hold me.

I hope you’re happy. I hope you’re safe and I hope that George is still wagging his tail for bacon strips, wherever you are.

Goodby

(Ps. If you ever do find yourself missing me… you know the way.)

— Sunshine’

༺ 🐑 ༻

The vastness of your ranch spread out before you in a way that still took your breath away. The land had tested you, challenged you, and at times, nearly broken you. But as the golden hour approached, you feel as though you're being cradled in its arms — being held steady after years of uncertainty.

The wind has teeth this evening.

Not the kind that rips or howls—but the low, gnawing kind that seeps through the seams of your coat and catches in the crooks of your bones. An early spring in Texas didn't always bring storm or rain, but it brought chill, and it hung over the land like a veil. The sun is pale in a sky the color of pewter, and the frost hadn't yet burned off the tall grass. Each blade shimmers like glass.

Juno, your constant — your loyal companion, moves through the grass beside you, her sleek black and white coat contrasting with the vibrant green earth. She's as part of the land as the other animals you'd been devoting your life to. The sheep, now grazing peacefully at the far end of the pasture, look content in their solitude.

Your work for the day had been done—crops tended to, your milk cow, Betty, given her evening grain, Dixie fed and brushed—both of them in their stalls for the night. You decide it's time to gather the sheep, to urge them into their own shelter beside the barn. You click your tongue, and Juno's ears perk up. She immediately turns her focus to the herd, running off to them with graceful precision like the prodigy she is.

“Easy, girl!” You call out, grinning. The sheep bunch together, docile under Juno's movements. You jog to keep up, the sweet scent of trampled grass and wildflowers filling your nostrils, and a laugh escapes you — loud and careless. “Good girl! That's it, Juno! Get 'em! Go 'round!” you holler, cupping your gloved hands around your mouth.

Juno barks once as she swoops around the herd. She veers left and then right, rounding up the sheep with an energy oozing pure mischief. The flock bawl and stumble in confusion, a few ewes trying to make a break for it — but Juno is faster. She flies behind them, crouched low, her body taut with excitement.

You watch her with pride swelling in your chest — she is full-grown now, all lean muscle and boundless spirit, though she still has the same spark she did as a pup. The sheep bleat in protest but Juno is persistent and you know exactly where she got that from — she's a chip off of old George's block. She races, expertly rounding them up into one bumpy mass.

“Okay now you're just showin' off, aren't you, Junebug?” you tease, hands on your hips.

She barks again, then waits.

You whistle — the command to settle.

Juno freezes, mostly, her tail sways in the grass.

“Not bad for a couple'a rookies, huh?” Juno woofs in agreement.

You saunter closer to the flock, planning to lead them through the wooden gate into their pen... but Juno's ears prick — and without warning, she snaps her head up, nose twitching furiously. The sheep shift uneasily, sensing the change in her energy.

“Juno.” You steadily step towards the sprightly dog.

She gives a soft whine, her attention drawn somewhere else.

“Juno.” You take another careful step. Your confidence falters as she continues to ignore you. It isn't the first time she's gotten distracted and you know she'll bolt if you're not cautious, but usually it doesn't take much more than one call of her name to coax her back into the task at hand. “Juno?”

Her head snaps in your direction and for a second you think you've broken her out of her trance, but she looks... uncertain. In a flash she is gone, streaking away from you and toward the far edge of the field, faster than you'd ever seen her move.

“Hey!” You shout, losing your composure instantly, “Juno, no! Get back here!”

She doesn't even glance back.

You don't hesitate to tear after her, dodging through the sheep, their wool brushing your legs. Your heart is pounding in sync with your boots hitting the ground — legs pumping with urgency. You vault the fence without thinking, boots hitting the ground with a frosty crack. The sheep are scattered behind you now, but you don't look back.

You are running blind, your scarf flying off your neck as you fly past the Bur Oak tree that Betty and Dixie like to doze under in the next pasture.

“Wait up! Juno!” Your voice echoes, lost in the expanse of the land. The dog’s shape is reduced to a small dot as she beelines for the tree line framing the wide river, toward the far edge of the ranch. She zooms past your ranch-house, the toolshed, the cabin, the coop and, lastly, where your land gives way to open country.

The main road is up ahead, the dusty gravel ribbon of it, and beyond it, the county highway — large vehicles barreling by without a care in the world.

A fear slams into you, hot and blinding — the image of a speeding truck, the sound of screeching brakes, the sickening thud of impact.

“Goddammit, Juno! STOP!” you scream, your voice raw with terror. You stumble harder, faster, reckless with the thought of her — your girl — running headlong into danger.

She skids to a halt.

Abrupt, frantic, paws digging into the dirt, throwing up a spray of dust around her.

You freeze mid-stride, nearly tripping over your own feet as you struggle to see what had made her stop so suddenly... all you're sure of is that it definitely wasn't because you'd desperately demanded for her to.

That's when you see the end of the invisible string that Juno had been nudging you to follow all along.

A flash of movement — a figure with a horse in tow walking up the path leading to the heart of the ranch from your front gate.

They're nothing more than a silhouette against the late sun, the light blinding and harsh, turning them into dark shadows cut from the sky.

Juno narrows the distance between her and them by a few yards, barking wildly — not in fear, not in warning, but in pure joy.

She throws herself at the figure, her whole body quivering, tail a white blur of motion.

The man —

He stiffly drops to one knee, the weight of his duffel bag on one shoulder and guitar case on the other had clearly been hurting him by the way he slumps them onto the ground. His hand comes up, offering it for Juno to sniff before burying it into her fur, holding onto her like a man drowning in a river would hold onto a branch.

Your lungs seize, useless in your chest.

You'd expected to see a coyote, a stray dog, a trespasser... not him.

Not Joel.

Not after two years of no written reply from him.

You'd told yourself a hundred times you were over it. Over him. That he was a chapter closed and done with. But seeing him now — clutching Juno to his chest like she's the only good thing left in the world, and her looking up at him like she'd been waiting her whole life to see him again — you realize you never stopped carrying those seasons you spent working together in your heart.

After pawing at his chest and licking his chin Juno drops back down to the ground, spinning in a tight circle before darting around him — sniffing behind his legs, then trotting to the left, nose to the wind. She lets out a quick bark, as if she'd forgotten something.

And then she whimpers. A puzzled, soft little sound. She stares up at him, then behind him again. Searching.

She's looking for George.

She circles him again, nose twitching, paws scuffing the dirt. She looks around him, examining his shadow like it's supposed to have one more set of paws beside it. She lets out another whine, even softer this time, her tail slowing. Then she sits right in front of him, head tilted, brow creased in that funny, thoughtful way dogs do when they can't quite understand where something's gone.

Joel doesn't speak. He just shakes his head.

No words. Just that tiny shake. A quiet answer.

Your throat tightens.

You feel it in your ribs — a dull ache. George had been there at the start. That cranky old Border Collie had been Joel’s second shadow, always watchful, always ready. You used to joke that George was the one in charge. That Joel was just his hands.

The idea of him gone — the space between Joel and Clint empty? You can’t fathom it.

Joel stands up with a grunt you can't quite hear and Juno noses at Joel's boot, giving one last huff before curling herself close to his leg again. She leans into him, pressing her face into the fabric of his jeans, trying to comfort him. Joel's hand comes down to rest on her head, comforting her in return.

He hasn't seen you yet. You're too far away and the brim of his cowboy hat is blocking a majority of his sight. Or maybe he has seen you and can't bring himself to look.

Slowly—so slowly—you pace forward, the frozen grass crackling underfoot, the cold biting high along your cheekbones until you're on the path Joel'd been walking up. You wrap your arms around yourself, partly for warmth, partly to stop yourself from shaking apart, panicking and running the other direction. You'd done this many times, usually to meet the postman, Troy or to check the road for deliveries.

The scrape of your boots alerts Joel and Juno as soon as you’re no more than three steps away from them.

Joel stares at you, his face blank—his mind struggling to process seeing you in the flesh.

The dog gives you a look as if to say: “it’s about time you joined us.”

Joel shifts awkwardly, lowering his eyes. He pulls his hat off and holds it to his chest, clutching it tightly in both hands. His hair is longer now, curling out at the edges, falling messily over his ears and shirt-collar —streaked with more silver. A gust of cold wind stirs it, and he doesn’t move to fix it.

He looks older.

That's the first thing that strikes you — not in a cruel way, just... truthful. The years had carved themselves into him — deliberate and unrelenting. The Joel standing at your gate isn't the same man who had handed you a puppy and asked you to stay with him four years ago. He'd been worn down — broken and weathered in that quiet, tragic way only time and loss could manage.

His frame is still broad, still unmistakably strong, but there's a leaner edge to it — a kind of hollowness at the shoulders — something vital had been carved out of him and never filled back in. His clothes are simple and dust-covered: faded jeans that cling to the muscle of his thighs, a worn green and black button-down, threadbare at the cuffs, scuffed boots that are white at the toes — creased with every step it took to get here — and a canvas jacket. You know it well. You'd stitched that shoulder, back when it had caught a nail after he'd insisted on fixing a fence post on a particularly cold night at his ranch. You sat on a stool outside your lodging with the jacket slung over your lap and a needle in hand — your fingers trembled so much — they were practically blue it was that freezing. Joel came walking down to your cabin from his ranch-house with two steaming mugs of hot cocoa, handed you one and sat on a tree stump opposite you without a word. It was unexpected. It was also the night you realized you didn't mind the quiet… as long as you shared it with Joel.

He looks like he hasn't done a single thing for the benefit of his own health, sure, but he's as ruggedly handsome as he was that night.

“Joel,” you manage to utter, your voice so small you barely hear it yourself. “What’re you—”

“Land’s somethin’ special.” His sad, sunken eyes skim past you, scanning over your ranch. “If anyone was gonna make somethin’ of it, it’d be you.”

You don’t respond. You just watch him with your mouth ajar—the way he keeps his shoulders stiff, the way he refuses to even meet your eyes.

“Always knew you deserved better than what my old shithole of a ranch was offerin’ for a life.”

Your fingers curl at your sides. You want to grab him, shake him, tell him you would’ve built this place with him if he’d only showed up. Tell him you never needed better — you needed him. “Joel—” you start, but he cuts you off, voice too casual to match the exhaustion in his facial features.

“You don’t gotta fuss over me, alright?” He finally glances your way, offering the ghost of a smile. “I ain’t here for a pity party. Just… figured I’d stop by. See it for myself.”

“Bullshit,” you scoff.

“‘Scuse me?”

“You heard me — if you wanted to see it that bad why didn’t you stop by two years ago?”

He ducks his head, ashamed, and nervously fiddles with the brim of the hat you named the “grumpy man’s crown” upon your first week of working with him, when you couldn’t get more than five words out of him… you feel like you’re back to square one all over again.

Without thinking, you reach out and grab his arm — solid under your fingers, tense with hesitation. His skin burns hot through the fabric of his jacket. He stiffens, surprised, but doesn’t pull away. You hook your spare hand around the strap of his duffel bag and grab the battered guitar case from where it’s slumped against his boot, completely ignoring his grumbled protests about doing his carrying for him. You tug at him — not gentle — dragging him toward the house with a strength you didn’t know you had.

Joel lets you, weakly whistling for Clint to follow.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ⇝

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 (𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞) 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆!!!!! 𝐈𝐭'𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 <𝟑

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ‘𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 & 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐨’ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ↯

𝑂𝑓 𝐷𝑢𝑠𝑡, 𝐷𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠 ＆ 𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑜

@dugiioh @monicasblues @millennialeldar @julesispunk @notyouraveragemochii @homophobicclownmoviestan

𝐽𝑜𝑒𝑙 𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑟

༺ 🐑 ༻

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

Mission Parameters - 1/?

Written in conjuction with @bloodgulchblog's Touchstone way back last December when we both started throwing MillerChief (we can't keep calling it Milf) ideas around. Not quite ready to post in its entirety but I wanted to share a chunk for Potluck2024

To the dozens of you who now care about/ know who Miller is, thank you for playing in this space with us.

-

Spartans aren’t machines.

It’s a truth, a hard one that he’s having a difficult time internalizing. He understands on some level, but John’s never been one to include himself in any sort of kindness. Knowing something is one thing, believing it is harder. Especially when he wasn’t made to believe. He was made into a tool in order to spare others. He was made into a symbol to inspire them, to encourage more sacrifices that he thought they’d be spared from. They believe in him, even though he fails - even though he’s an imperfect paradox. He knows it is his burden to bear. John had not been happy to learn about the generations after him. Another bitter pill to swallow. Another truth; the UNSC, the UEG, and ONI would do everything in their power to maintain and grow their grip on survival and victory. That was a truth he knew and believed. He had had his part in that, in saving humanity he told himself, but now it was looking like that part may be over.

The IIIs surprised him, but they were familiar, having lived the majority of their lives as Spartans. They moved like Spartans, walked and talked like Spartans, were off-kilter amongst civilians like Spartans. The IVs were a different beast altogether- still Spartans, but with all the lived experiences of Helljumpers, SpecOps, and even some civilian types. Prodigies and geniuses. Spartans who chose to become a weapon-and-person. Ones who grew up hearing stories of him and decided they wanted it too- wanted to do their duty, not called upon to serve but vying for a chance to prove themselves or get even with the Covenant. Eager to become a number. Giving anything and everything to hit back.

It rankled some part of him that John tried his best not to listen to. The IIs did what had to be done. Wasn’t it supposed to stop with them? He wouldn’t wish the process on anyone, but the new hands jumped at the opportunity. They were still Spartans, but what did that mean now? Why were they still needed? And what was he supposed to do when he was outnumbered in a sea of the next model? Some of them were born after he’d put on the armor. Most of them had only ever known war, only ever seen humanity pushed to the brink. The ones he worked with were good people, but there was something sinister about the whole thing. They didn’t see him as an equal, he was a benchmark, a standard, and an unreachable one at that. The lucky one despite him hating that word. But the IVs didn’t know. He wasn’t a man or a tool to them. He was the Master Chief, the Spartan, the touchstone of the entire program-turned-branch. Their eyes glazed with propaganda and their words greased with blood. He wasn’t sure whose.

John didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. Recent events have had everyone worried about John. His team is worried. Commander Palmer and Captain Lasky are worried. Admiral Hood is worried, but at least John doesn’t have to look him in the eye as often as the others. He and Blue Team have been effectively grounded and put under close watch after disobeying orders. Everyone’s worried about the Master Chief and his insubordination. A handful are worried about John 117, but there’s one person still alive who’s worried about John in the most mundane of ways.

The babysitter. One Spartan Jared Miller. The guy on the radio telling them things they already know. Except that’s not true. Truthfully- again John had to acknowledge the truths staring him in the face- truthfully, having a handler had been… interesting. Blue Team had shared looks when they were told that they were going to test out handlers to see who’d be a good fit for them. The Blue Team, legends in the field who had been in active combat longer than most of their current peers had been alive. Getting a handler for them seemed like blasphemy. But having an eye in the sky watching their backs and giving them real time updates that didn’t cost them breaking cover or silence was…nice. Nice things didn’t happen to Blue Team. Spartans weren’t given support- they were the support. They were the boots on the ground and more often than not, the fodder that threw itself on the wheels to stop the war machine from devouring humanity. Now the tools were supposed to be people and have an entire network of handlers and techs and medical crew to care for and maintain them?

John had woken up to a changed galaxy.

Under orders Kelly-087, Fred-104, Linda-058, and John-117 ran drill after drill, exercise after exercise, and every simulation the War Games AI had with the few Spartan handlers stationed on the Infinity. That’s why John even knows Miller exists; Blue Team running the gamut of exercises with each Spartan mission handler to find the best fit. They don’t need one, never had, but what it meant to be a Spartan had changed while he was away. It’s still changing, growing around and past him. John isn’t entirely sure how he feels about it. Spartans existing and being promoted in the public eye, receiving preferential treatment, being looked after and support more than he’s ever known in his entire career. It was all so uncomfortable. John had thought he’d gotten used to being uncomfortable.

Spartans were evolving and he had to get with the times in order to not be left behind. More than that, John didn’t want to be a liability to his team. He just got them back and didn’t want to lose them again. A small dark part of him wonders if they would be better off without him. An aging Spartan who had run its course and should disappear quietly rather than drag out this misery in some kind of spectacle. John was tired of being an example.

John thought Miller was doing a good job, he just needed the confidence that came with experience. He was a fine handler for Blue Team after John had slipped his leash and gone off on his own, showing some unlikable non-Spartan characteristics. After Biko. Spartan IIs didn’t get grounded, but times had changed and there was a whole branch for them now. No more operating in shadows and being more myth than fact. The brass had been unhappy at the Master Chief going AWOL, Commander Palmer had been unhappy at them going against orders and making a mess for her, and Captain Lasky had been unhappy that John had decided to run away rather than deal with his failures. John was unhappy about that as well and it was why he was here, doing this.

A self-assigned mission, to figure out and help if he could.

Miller had a hard time not getting trapped in his own head. It's something John's seen in a lot of good soldiers over the years. Many good people he’s worked with struggle with shouldering the decisions they’ve made, the things they’ve seen.. John’s no exception. Miller's… just more obvious about it.

Miller pouts, he worries, he frets. It seems like anytime John looks at the man there's some kind of doubt clouding his face. Miller sticks out among the uniform sea of techsuits and buzz cuts because it’s the one un-Spartan thing the UNSC hasn’t seemed to iron out of him yet. He’s visibly nervous all the time. It's why John approached him.

Jared Miller seemed to be the one Spartan on the ship with more obvious problems than him. John wanted to find out why. Miller was a puzzle of anxiety, almost too tightly wound for a Spartan. But then John had seen him work, listened to him deliver intel and direct his own team. Spartan Miller was a fine handler, detail-oriented, mission-focused, and quick to respond to out-of-control scenarios. He just needed confidence both on and off comms, for his own good and the good of the fireteams under his leadership.

And John was going to help him. A handful of people had always told him he needed a hobby. John didn’t know what to do with himself, so he was focusing on someone else. It helped put things into perspective in a way. The IVs confused him, in some ways more than the civilian contractors and scientists that moved easily amongst the Spartans. More than the team of techs who insisted on his care and maintenance rather than letting him do what he’s always done. The entire culture of warships had shifted while he was asleep. John was a remnant of an older age haunting the new hires. There weren’t supposed to be Spartans after his class – his family. They had been called upon to serve-taken, to endure, so that there wouldn’t be a need anymore. So to quell the storm of thoughts he got anytime he left his quarters, John decided to study Miller. Fred said he was going to give the guy complexes, but John had thought about his time since waking up and running. He could learn, and maybe he could teach.

The fact that there were two generations of Spartans after the IIs weighed on John, but it was another thing he was going to have to learn to live with. The fact that there were 300 Spartan milling about on the Infinity was mind-boggling, and he would just have to adjust. With the ship now in drydock, many of the crew were taking the rare chance to stretch their legs and go planet-side. John was not. He was avoiding his team and avoiding the looks he got. He was having a harder time adjusting than he would ever care to admit, or even think. He was finding ways to keep moving even if Blue Team’s wings were clipped. John was entertaining something with the one person who was more anxious than him and who worried about John for the wrong reasons.

He needed to stop lying to himself. They weren’t the wrong reasons, but it was a novel sensation to have someone worry about his well-being in such a mundane way. Blue Team is worried John is going to work himself to death or snap, Command is worried about that too and doing damage control to whatever next mistake he makes. Miller is worried about John’s feelings while they dance around each other in this game of almost flirting and calling bluffs. It’s a game of chicken but with what John thinks are what normal stakes look like.

[burningthrucelluloid]

Christmas Carol-cember Day 3

When you name a cartoon character “Scrooge McDuck,” you’re pretty much guaranteed to have that person play Ebenezer Scrooge.

If you aren’t? Then what are you even doing when this golden opportunity is literally gift wrapped for you? It’s like making a character named “Spider-Man" and he has nothing to do with arachnids. Wasted opportunity.

This 1983 short film truly was a testament to the animation team at the Disney Company, especially for a time when the higher ups were strongly considering shutting down the animation department after a slew of films distributed by the company that weren’t major financial draws. Even more impressive to consider this short film was conceived by the late Disney Legend Burny Mattinson, who passed away last year after a 70-year career at the Walt Disney Company. He started out working as an in-betweener and character animator for 30 years until he grew bold and sent a pitch to Disney’s former CEO, Ron Miller. Miller, according to Burny, tried to strong-arm him over the pitch but Burny held his ground until Miller finally relented, admitted he actually liked the pitch and immediately approved the project.

While the short was originally intended to be released on Christmas 1982, an animator strike delayed the short from it’s Christmas release, forcing Disney to show the short before a re-release of 1977’s “The Rescuers.” Funny enough, the last Mickey Mouse cartoon released in theaters was 30 years prior under RKO Radio Pictures. The short was critically received upon release, even garnering Mattinson an Academy Award nomination. As a result, Mattinson found himself a co-director on a feature film for “The Great Mouse Detective,” bringing along two character animators he had worked alongside.

But the story of John Musker and Ron Clements and their success within the Disney Company is a story for another day.

Naturally since this is an animated short film, many story beats from the original story had to be dropped. Although Scrooge’s nephew remains in the story, his connection to Scrooge’s sister Fran is not present. Nor is the iconic moment of the Ghost of Christmas Present showing “Want” and “Ignorance" to Scrooge as he warns they are the children of Mankind.

But I suppose that’s the tricky thing with adaptation. How much to keep vs how much not to keep.

I was about to ask why Fred was even here until I learned that Burny Mattinson’s dream project was to have the “Big Five” of Disney here. Mickey Mouse, Minnie Mouse, Donald Duck, Goofy and Pete. While many of the original voice actors had passed on, Clarence Nash was still alive though he had to limit performing the Donald Duck voice as it strained his voice. A rumor that may or may not be true tells that the voice directors brought Nash in and worried if he could still do the voice until someone spilled coffee on Nash’s arm. As the story goes, Nash cursed out in the Donald voice and the voice directors supposedly just said “yup, he’s still got it.”

He died two years later, marking this short the last time one of the surviving original Disney voices would perform their characters for a new animated short.

But of course, this is about performances of Scrooge. How does this one measure, especially when it’s animated and has more to do in a short time?

Alan Young as Scrooge McDuck is, to put it best, just a perfect combination of what you want out of the character of Ebenezer Scrooge.

His Scottish drawl and delivery of his lines makes his Scrooge feel genuine.

Someone that is cold, but clearly able to comprehend sympathy.

It also helps that Alan Young makes Scrooge’s greed hilariously lacking in self-reflection; my favorite line being “In his (Marley) will, he left me enough money to pay for his tombstone. Yet I have him buried at sea!” 

It’s a funny take but Young captures the greed that befits the Scrooge character, but also demonstrates the humanity that is clearly inherent. Such as the remorse when he reflects on losing Isabelle or the dawning realization that his penny-pinching causes direct harm to Tiny Tim. Heck, that sequence of Scrooge seeing Mickey Mouse shed a tear before laying Tim’s crutch against his tiny grave, all done without words, is beautifully done. Huge props to Mattinson and his animation team for pulling that off.

Even more praise is deserved with the sequence that has become something of an image of nightmares for some kids who saw this: Pete tossing Scrooge into an open grave as smoke and fire bellows out from below while Scrooge pleads for a second chance, complete with Will Ryan’s cackle at Scrooge’s terror.

Even if it kind is lifted from another Christmas Carol movie, but we’ll get to that one in due time.

Revisiting this short film after all these years and reading up on the passion that the late Burny Mattinson had to make this labor of love at a time when the Disney Company shut down the short films department as a cost-saving measure and was considering doing the same to the animation department as well, really allowed me to appreciate this cartoon more than I did as a kid.

The reunion of many Disney characters who were most likely forgotten by that time (Willie the Giant or Ratty and Moley come to mind) and given exposure to an new audience while also introducing a new generation to a voice for Scrooge McDuck who would ingratiate himself with the character until his death in 2016.

As far as adaptations of the Charles Dickens story go, this one is perfectly suitable for all age groups and I would easily recommend it for parents who want to introduce their children to the Dickens story without necessarily traumatizing them.

It’s the right balance of Christmas cheer and scares to get them into the story.

“Mickey’s Christmas Carol” is available for streaming on Disney+.

Next time? We return to television with a Scrooge not from England, but from America...

[fanficfanattic]

Will you share your Jamie Tartt playlist? 👀

Buckle up boys! Hold on to your butts! Other ways to say brace yourselves!

To Build a Home (feat. Patrick Watson) by The Cinematic Orchestra

I'll Be Good by Jaymes Young

Sorrow by Bad Religion

The Greatest by Sia

Love I'm Given by Ellie Goulding

Runaway by AURORA

Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths

Move by Oliver Tree

High Hopes by Panic! At the Disco

Outrunning Karma by Alec Benjamin

Home by Cavetown

The Perfect Space by The Avett Brothers

A Better Son/Daughter by Rilo Kiley

False Confidence by Noah Kahan

Legend by The Score

The Competition by Kimya Dawson

In the Blood by John Mayer

Winner by Walgrove

Icarus by Bastille

Sympathy by The Goo Goo Dolls

Take Yours, I’ll Take Mine by Matthew Mole

People Help the People by Birdy

Daylight by David Kushner

Cough it Out by The Front Bottoms

Sober by P!nk

The Cave by Mumford & Sons

Tear It Up by Queen

Waves by Dean Lewis

Soldier by Ingrid Michaelson

We Don't Believe What's On TV by Twenty One Pilots

Blood In the Cut by K.Flay

Chameleon/Comedian by Kathleen Edwards

Water (feat. Rostam) by Ra Ra Riot

All is Soft Inside by AURORA

Pieces (feat. Noah Kahan) by Matoma

Dog Days Are Over by Florence + the Machine

Rise up With Fists!! by Jenny Lewis & The Watson Twins

Gone, Gone, Gone by Phillip Phillips

HandClap by Fitz and The Tantrums

Hi Ren by Ren

I Don't Belong In This Club by Why Don't We & Macklemore

Skinny Love by Birdy

Raising Hell (feat. Big Freedia) by Kesha

Go Places by The New Pornographers

The Night Starts Here by Stars

Ghost by Ella Henderson

Here We Go by WILD

If I Be Wrong by Wolf Larsen

Part of Me by Noah Kahan

We're Going to Be Friends

The White Stripes

Bitch by Meredith Brooks

Samson by Regina Spektor

Let's go to Hell by Tai Verdes

Raise Hell by Brandi Carlile

Power Over Me by Dermot Kennedy

Don't Tell the Boys by Petey

Sober Up (feat. Rivers Cuomo) by AJR

O.N.E. By Yeasayer

Locked Up by Ingrid Michaelson

Like a Stone by Audioslave

Leave the Light On by Overcoats

Tough (feat. Noah Kahan) by Quinn XCII

touch tank by quinnie

Warrior by AURORA

Too Sweet by Hozier

I'Il Think of You by Kurt Hugo Schneider

Into the Ocean by Blue October

Star Fire by Sleeping Wolf

Happier (Stripped) by Marshmello & Bastille

Knievel by Tommy Lefroy

Walk Me Home by P!nk

Brat (Humor Me) by Deore

Am I Wrong by Love Spit Love

Someday by One Republic

7 Years by Lukas Graham

Stick Season by Noah Kahan

Like a Prayer by Madonna

Little Bit by Lykke Li

Bruises by Lewis Capaldi

Don't Carry It All by The Decemberists

Freaking Out by The Wrecks

Will Do by TV on the Radio

The Dirt by Tor Miller

Hope of Morning by Icon for Hire

Smile by Mikky Ekko

The District Sleeps Alone Tonight by The Postal Service

Blood Brothers by Ingrid Michaelson

All My Friends by The Revivalists

Fuck Authority by Pennywise

Crazier Things by Chelsea Cutler & Noah Kahan

Kiss With a Fist by Florence + the Machine

Unstoppable by Sia

Can't Go to Hell by Sin Shake Sin

World's Smallest Violin by AJR

All I Know So Far by P!nk

Knocking at the Door by Arkells

Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons

The Seed by AURORA

Wine, Women and Song by Harvey Danger

The Cult of Dionysus by The Orion Experience

All You Wanted by Michelle Branch

Young Blood by The Naked and Famous

Truth No. 2 by The Chicks

Homesick by Noah Kahan

Family Line by Conan Gray

The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives

Heroes Never Die by NateWantsToBattle

My Number Tegan and Sara

Masterpiece by Big Thief

Til It Happens To You by Lady Gaga

I Don't Wanna Live Forever (Cups Version) by Kurt Hugo Schneider

Sit Down by James

Robots by Dan Mangan

Windowsill by Arcade Fire

Be OK by Ingrid Michaelson

Bite the Hand by boygenius

The Top (Bonus Track) by Primo the Alien

MEAN! (Remix) [feat. Noah Kahan] by Madeline The Person

Home We'll Go (Take My Hand) by Steve Aoki & Walk Off the Earth

From The Bottom Of My Heart by The Wallflowers

FourFiveSeconds by Rihanna and Kanye West and Paul McCartney

I Am the Resurrection by The Stone Roses

Chrome Plated Heart by Melissa Etheridge

Precious Love by James Morrison

Bones (feat. One Republic) by Galantis

Let's Go (feat. Icona Pop) by Tiesto

Unbelievers by Vampire Weekend

So What by P!nk

I Don't Feel Like Dancin' by Scissor Sisters

Creature Fear by Bon Iver

Brother by The Rural Alberta Advantage

Save Me by Noah Kahan

High and Dry by Radiohead

Power by Little Mix

Dirty Paws by Of Monsters and Men

The Boy Does Nothing by Alesha Dixon

Set You Free (Edit) by N-Trance

Stronger by Britney Spears

First Things First by Neon Trees

Kings & Queens by Ava Max

Welcome Home, Son by Radical Face

Capsize by FRENSHIP & Emily Warren

We Were Kings by Ryan Star

Come Undone by Duran Duran

Young Folks by Peter Bjorn and John

Pride by Noah Kahan & mxmtoon

Everywhere by Michelle Branch

Blow Me (One Last Kiss) by P!nk

Dust Bowl Dance by Mumford & Sons

Bad Blood by Bastille

Blue Monday by New Order

Make Believe by The FAIM

Midnight Show by The Killers

Can't Fight the Moonlight by LeAnn Rimes

Ophelia by The Lumineers

Shaky Ground by Freedom Fry

Grounds for Divorce by Elbow

Heaven and Hell by Let's Play Dead

Survivor by The Score

Ready Now by dodie

Young Blood by Noah Kahan

Ain’t No Reason by Brett Dennen

King by Years & Years

Bulletproof by La Roux

Beating Heart Cadavers by Acollective

How to Rest by The Crane Wives

Santa Monica by Everclear

Beds Are Burning by Midnight Oil

Get Some by Lykke Li

Sky Full of Song by Florence + the Machine

Beautiful Trauma by P!nk

Parachute (Serban Ghenea Mix) by Ingrid Michaelson

Down to the Bottom by Dorothy

YES MOM by Tessa Violet

Numb Little Bug by Em Beihold

Rise Up by Andra Day

Maps by Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Hurt Somebody by Noah Kahan

[padraicratigan]

Excerpts from On Animation: The Director’s Perspective – John Musker, Ron Clements and Rob Minkoff

On Animation: The Director’s Perspective is a two volume collection of interviews with animated film directors. Included are interviews with John Musker, Ron Clements, two of the directors for The Great Mouse Detective, and Rob Minkoff, the supervising animator for Olivia.

John Musker

Bill: With all that animosity in the studio, how did you move on to direct Basil of Baker Street, or I should say The Great Mouse Detective?

John: At this point, Ron Clements had shown the book Basil of Baker Street, about a mouse Sherlock Holmes, to Joe Hale, and he liked it as a possible feature. It was decided that the malcontents on Black Cauldron should leave Black Cauldron to the other directors and form a small unit to work on Basil. Thus, Ron Clements, who was unhappy over the way the story of Cauldron was being adapted, was assigned to Basil along with me as director and veterans Pete Young, Vance Gerry, and writer Steve Hulett. And Ron Miller himself was going to personally produce it. This was Ron’s way of mentoring us I think. As I tried to shape the tone of the movie, I wanted to do more than put a mouse in a deerstalker cap. My tastes in British comedy at the time were heavily influenced by Monty Python and also The Goon Show (British absurdist radio satire with Peter Sellers and Spike Milligan that the Pythons themselves had grown up on). And that was part of what colored my initial version of Basil. Basil was very “John Cleese.” He was manic (and depressive), abrupt, smart, and lacked social graces. Instead of the violin, he played the tuba, a mouse-sized tuba. The homely Dr. Dawson was kind of an unwitting ladies’ man. The opening of the film was a Citizen Kane parody where the story was told in flashback by a wheelchair-bound Dawson, now residing in a home for shell-shocked veterans of the Afghan war. It was boarded by the great Joe Ranft, who gave it many of his idiosyncratically funny and heartfelt touches. After about six months, we finally showed it to Ron Miller. We had sequences on storyboards, nothing on reels. Ron absolutely hated it! He thought it was too “out there.”

Bill: So you made the wrong choice?

John: Yeah, once again. He basically said, “Start over.” For me, that was difficult. I didn’t want to do that. I wanted out. But I backed off and let it move in a more traditional Disney direction. Vance Gerry did wonderful work bringing more charm and warmth to the story, the look, and the characters. That was Ron Miller’s ultimate criticism of my version: “This is Disney! Where’s the warmth?” He had a point. My version lacked that. Joe Ranft did a classic drawing based on Ron Miller’s reaction where Ron looks sort of like Frankenstein and roars, “WHERE’S THE GODDAMN WARMTH?” I still have that drawing, 30 years later, pinned up in my room. It’s a good reminder. In the final film of Basil, I was able to still inject some of the edge that I thought was in Doyle’s own writing of Holmes, some of the Cleesian persona I thought amusing, but the film was tempered by the warmth Vance added. At this same time, Brad Bird, who had a falling out of his own a few years before and had exited the studio, was developing with Jerry Rees an animated feature based on Will Eisner’s classic noir detective strip, The Spirit. I loved The Spirit, had envisioned making a version of it myself one day. In my spare time, I helped Brad get the project going, as did Glen Keane and others. I did animation, storyboarded a couple of long sequences, and was ready to jump ship and relocate to northern California with Brad and Jerry if it got funding. Word of this got back to management. Burny Mattinson was elevated to codirector partly because of my lack of firm commitment to seeing Basil through.

Bill: Then the sudden appearance of Eisner …

John: Sudden is right. But first, there were the threats of a takeover of Disney. Ron Miller was ousted and Michael Eisner and Frank Wells were brought in. And Roy Disney, who had earlier left Disney unhappy with Ron Miller’s direction of the studio, orchestrated Michael’s hire and returned to Disney himself. But we wondered, does anybody realize Ron Miller was actually producing Basil and now we are producer-less? We were like kids in a classroom who were the only ones that knew the teacher was never coming back. It was strange. For a moment, there was no supervision, no leader to look to. We were all in limbo. Shortly thereafter, we learned that we actually had to pitch the movie to Michael Eisner. Although we had been working on it for three years, it was very possible that it might get shelved in the wink of an eye.

Bill: Three years?

John: Three years in boards … I think we had a few reels. Ron was very distracted by the takeover attempts, and we were moving in slow motion. So we pitched Basil on beat boards to Michael Eisner, and he says, “OK, I see you got the comedy and the adventure. But what’s going to make us cry? You need something to make us cry.” He starts talking in a way that I never heard Ron Miller talk. He then calls in Jeffrey Katzenberg, and we show him everything that we have. This is our first meeting with him. Jeffrey looks at our bar room sequence, one where a plaintive woman mouse sings a Victorian ditty that gets a bit bawdy. Jeffrey’s response: “Why can’t we have Michael Jackson do a song for it?” We were totally thrown. Michael Jackson? Victorian England? It was then we realized that we were not in Kansas anymore.

Bill: Thinking outside the box.

John: There was no box. In hindsight, Jeffrey’s thought was not so wacky. It was risky in a kind of cool way (although hiring the biggest pop star on the planet to do a song isn’t entirely daring), but it was another universe than the Disney we had been working for. So they greenlit the movie, but cut the budget in half and gave us half the time. We had to knock a year off production and do the movie for ten million dollars, which was a tight squeeze budget-wise even then. Our roles also got shuffled around. Burny Mattinson was now producing the film, and Ron and Dave Michener became codirectors. I wasn’t the sole director anymore. I answered to Burny now. It wasn’t necessarily an ideal situation for me. Fortunately, Burny was very supportive, collaborative, and generous all in all. He was open to ideas, and had some fun ideas of his own that sent the movie off in a better direction. And in the meantime, Brad never did get The Spirit off the ground.

Bill: Is this when you and Ron began to work together as a team?

John: I think our teamwork was forged on Black Cauldron, as it were, ironically enough. We discovered we shared much of the same tastes in storytelling and writing. This was further amplified as we collaborated on Basil. I had always known Ron as an animator. He was a low-key guy with a good head on his shoulders. During the Bluth days, as much as Don tried to entice him, or anyone else for that matter, he was the guy that said, “Don’t drink the Kool-Aid.” No matter what, he would question something if it didn’t look or feel right. And on Black Cauldron, we learned that we had similar ideas about how to adapt a book into a film and how to take a character from the page to the big screen.

Bill: But you ended up finishing The Great Mouse Detective.

John: We did. To us, though, it was always Basil of Baker Street. That’s what we called it.

Bill: And it did OK at the box office, right?

John: Well … it got really good reviews. The studio was excited. But both Jeffrey Katzenberg and Michael Eisner were disappointed with how much money it made. People liked it. It was Glen Keane’s first chance to really design and develop a character, which he did with the villain Ratigan. It was a step in the right direction, especially after Black Cauldron.

Bill: And it set you on track to helm The Little Mermaid.

John: It did. Ron was the one that pitched The Little Mermaid. He found the original Anderson story in a book of fairy tales he read in a bookstore in North Hollywood, the Paperback Shack. He was in search of ideas for features to pitch at a “Gong Show,” a meeting with Jeffrey and Michael designed to unearth new ideas for films, a vehicle they had used at Paramount. Upon reading Mermaid, Ron loved the story’s visual qualities. In terms of animation, it had great potential, and he wondered, “Why has this never been made into a film?” Then he got to the tragic ending, and said, “Now I know.” Ron wrote a two-page outline of his version. After some delay, Michael and Jeffrey liked it enough to put it into development as a feature. It ultimately languished, waiting for Michael Cristofer, a fine actor and writer of Witches of Eastwick and writer-director of Gia, and a person whose tastes ran toward the dark side, to write Little Mermaid. He never quite got going on it, so Ron asked me if I would be interested in writing it with him, the two of us having collaborated amicably on Basil and Cauldron, if he could get Peter Schneider, who really ran feature animation for Jeffrey and Roy, to agree. Ron’s pitch to Peter was we’re here, we’re cheap, we’re rarin’ to go, whaddya got to lose? Peter said OK.

---

Bill: With all this consistent collaboration, what would be an example of something that’s all yours?

John: Well, the caricatures I draw reflect a point of view that’s all mine. I also made this three-minute film piece for Joe Ranft’s funeral, a tribute to a great friend and an exceptional talent and human being who died too young. I drew and edited the whole piece. I was encouraged to post it on YouTube on Joe’s subsequent birthday, which I did. People can track that down to maybe get a little feeling for what Joe was like, and what he meant to me and the people around him. It pleased me that the people who knew and loved Joe could see him in that little film. In general, it pleases me when something you labor over seems to resonate with an audience. They see themselves in it and connect to the emotions.

Bill: I think you’ve succeeded. Mermaid, for example, was such a success. The audience just kept coming back to see it.

John: Yeah. I don’t think Michael Eisner initially saw animation as something that could be financially successful. Black Cauldron, which was their intro to Disney features, had cost a lot of money and not done well. I think Michael was quoted in one of the early press pieces as saying Disney needed to continue making animated films because of Disney’s legacy, but they weren’t expected to make money. When someone remarked how expensive an animated film was to produce, I think he was actually quoted as saying, “These are expensive to make, but we have to do it. It’s sort of our thing. It’s our obligation almost.” I don’t think Eisner initially saw animation as a big source of revenue. He just wanted it to break even. Jeffrey, who had not grown up around animation at all, saw it, I think, as a challenge to make it financially successful. Although Basil wasn’t particularly successful financially (so much so that a disappointed Jeffrey told us he thought the ticket prices for animated films might have to be raised to make them profitable), Spielberg and Don Bluth produced An American Tail, and it did better at the box office. It was very much made for a family audience. Even I went to see it on opening night, but it was sold out! I couldn’t believe it. Ultimately, its success helped us convince Jeffrey to put more production value into The Little Mermaid. Mermaid was definitely a surprise, even for Jeffrey. It expanded the traditional audience for animated films. It even became a kind of date movie for teens and adults. Of course, there was Roger Rabbit too, which came out before Mermaid. But Howard and Alan’s music for Mermaid was so infectious, smart, and fun that animation became kind of cool. And that gave us momentum. It moved the production of new animated films forward. Obviously, not everything hinged upon the success of Mermaid. But Rescuers Down Under and Beauty and the Beast were in development in various stages, and the success of our movie gave momentum to them and other upcoming projects (as well as increasing expectations for them, both creatively and financially). As Mermaid was winding down, but before it was released, the studio actually wanted Ron and I to take over Beauty and the Beast from the original director, Dick Purdum. He was a talented British-based animator who had been saddled with an early draft of the script that Jeffrey loved. He was told not to change a word. When Jeffrey disliked the reels that emerged from the “perfect” script, there was an emergency confab in Florida during the Mermaid press junket. It was there that Howard pitched his version of the story, which handled the characters and the tone (as well as plot elements) considerably differently. He pitched the villain Gaston being a hunter rather than a fop, and his Belle was an imaginative, independent lover of books out of step with her provincial neighbors. He thought the mute, enchanted household objects, which had once been human servants, should not only speak, but should sing and dance. And new directors Kirk Wise and Gary Trousedale and their great story team of Roger Allers, Brenda Chapman, Chris Sanders, et al., brought their own ideas to the project and brought it all to spectacular life (and we had nothing to do with it!).

---

Bill: What was one of the toughest moments in making Aladdin?

John: We had a screening for Aladdin, the famous Black Friday screening. Ninety minutes of story reels, our first pass. On Basil, Jeffrey had shut the reels off after ten minutes when he wasn’t engaged and refused to watch the rest until we had a more compelling opening. These reels of Aladdin he watched in their entirety. At the end, his only comment was, “That’s a lotta movie,” and off he went. Ron and I lunched at El Torito, a little uncertain what to make of Jeffrey’s reaction, but cautiously thinking the screening seemed to go OK. After lunch we went to see Don Ernst who was our producer. “Any further word from Jeffrey?” we asked. “He hated it!” Don replied. What!? When we asked Jeffrey later why he hadn’t shut off the projector as he had on Basil, he said, “I got too much respect for you guys to do that. But I gotta tell ya, I was so bored I spent the entire screening working on the guest list for my wife’s surprise party!” So on Good Friday, even though the studio was closed, we came in to meet with Jeffrey. He said, “Listen guys, Steven Spielberg just made Empire of the Sun. The script, however, didn’t work. He went out, he shot it, edited it together. And guess what? It still didn’t work! But had anybody told him the script didn’t work? No! Because he is Steven Spielberg. Guys, I’m here to tell you, and I think of you as the Steven Spielbergs of animation, you just made Empire of the Sun.”

---

Bill: The Genie gets so much attention, but the animation for the magic carpet was even more amazing.

John: Randy Cartwright animated the carpet. It was the first time, I think, that we used texture mapping. Neither Ron nor I is particularly technologically adept, but we were trying to stretch the boundaries, just like we did on Great Mouse Detective. If someone had an idea how to use technology in a cool way, we were open to trying. On Great Mouse, it was Mike Peraza and Phil Nibbelink who kept saying, “Wouldn’t it be cool if …,” which led to the interior of Big Ben being done on the computer. On Mermaid, Tina Price pushed us to make Eric’s ship a CG [computer graphics] model (which it is only in that first scene coming out of the fog). Tina was also involved in “roto-ing” Randy’s hand-drawn animation of the carpet and warping the intricately patterned carpet texture to fit the acting and movements that Randy created. Still, we had to sell this to Jeffrey. We loved getting this intricate pattern on the carpet, but according to the accountants, it was going to cost a lot of money to do this. Jeffrey was incredulous: “I’m paying all that dough for a bunch of squiggles?” He didn’t get it. But we fought for it and he gave in. I was very happy about that victory. Randy really “was” the carpet, or vice versa. I remember Randy acting out the scene as the carpet sadly slumps away after Aladdin dismisses it in the cave. I still see Randy doing it when I watch the carpet do that in the movie.

---

Bill: If you could go back in time what advice you give yourself about directing your first feature?

John: If I could go back in time to Great Mouse Detective, the first feature I directed on really (I don’t think I can count Black Cauldron …) and advise myself about it, I’d caution myself to remember that the audience has a lot of material to absorb about characters, their problems, the world they live in, and the rules by which that world operates, in a very short amount of time. So extra care must be spent to make sure all that information gets communicated clearly and entertainingly. At times, the younger “me” might try, like younger animators sometimes do, to put too much into too little time, thus making it harder for the audience to jump aboard. I’d also remind myself to leave breathing room so there is a variety of pace, let some things should play out more slowly to give contrast in the film, which helps keep the audience engaged. And I’d remind myself how lucky I am to be doing this.

Ron Clements

Bill: Pastels, right? After all, no Photoshop back then!

Ron: Pastels, magic markers … and a hot press. I learned how to work a hot press. I shot a lot of slides. For every piece of artwork you did, you had to shoot a slide. And it would all end up on camera. I was still very interested in animation, though. I even brought in my Super 8 films and suggested we could do some commercials. In those days, everyone thought animation was a very expensive business, that without a bunch of fantastic equipment you couldn’t do it. My little Super 8 films proved otherwise, so I convinced them. Soon I was making little animated commercials. They even built an animation stand for me, which they let me use on my own after hours. When I was 18, I made a 15-minute animated short called Shades of Sherlock Holmes. It was in color. I did all the animation, cels, backgrounds, voices, and soundtrack.

Bill: Did you have pegs?

Ron: I had pegs … just two pegs. I did it with a two-peg system. They were just little wooden dowels. I punched the paper and cels with a regular paper puncher.

Bill: You made it yourself?

Ron: I made the cells. I painted them. I did everything.

---

Bill: Do you remember your first tests?

Ron: My first test did not go that well. Eric Larson suggested that I do something with Sherlock Holmes, since my film featured that character. But my design was not at all a Disney-type design. I was frozen for three weeks. I was actually working on a walk cycle for three weeks. In the fourth week, I added a Watson character, who was a little King Hubbert–ish. I had more fun with him. But it was close. They saw a little spark with what I did in that last week, so I got to stay. That was enough for me to relax and start to feel more comfortable. Then I did much better on my second test, a test with the rabbit character from Winnie the Pooh. They liked that test. Before I knew it, eight weeks had passed. If you could make it through that, they hired you. That was the official start of my Disney career. I was an in-betweener at Disney working on Winnie the Pooh and Tigger Too, a featurette at that time. And even though I was officially employed at Disney, I still did personal tests in my spare time. I had a fairly ambitious idea to do one with Cruella De Vil. It went over really well. Frank Thomas and Ollie Johnston came into my room after they saw it and sort of bowed to me. That was probably the biggest thrill of my entire career. Suddenly, everyone at the studio knew who I was. It was definitely a transformative moment. At the same time, I was still scared. That test went over so well. But honestly, I still didn’t really know what I was doing. Frank asked me to work with him. He wanted to be my mentor. I had originally thought about working under Milt Kahl. But I soon learned that Milt didn’t really mentor anybody. You dealt only with his assistant, Stan Green. Working with Frank was a fantastic opportunity. He was a brilliant animator, actor, entertainer … just an incredibly smart, talented guy. I learned a lot from Frank as I became an animator on the Rescuers. Back then, there were only a few books on the animation process, such as the Preston Blair book, and Frank and Ollie wrote an amazing book after they retired. But animation is something you learn best from working with someone. You can get the ideas and concepts from a book. But in the end, you need a mentor, someone who can teach you how to do it, how to become an actor with a pencil. For me, that was Frank.

---

Bill: When did you begin to work with John Musker?

Ron: Despite being one of the young rebellious CalArts guys, the studio made John a director on Black Cauldron. It was the idea of Tom Wilhite, a young executive who was open to new ideas. The older directors didn’t like that at all. After Frank and Ollie left, Don Bluth was running the show. But he clashed with the CalArts guys. They had different ideas and were not afraid to express them. Brad Bird was particularly outspoken. A schism developed quickly. Finally, Don Bluth and his people quit. The studio was then left with a bunch of talented, but unruly young talent, which could be quite scary for a fairly conservative company. Ron Miller, Walt’s son-in-law, who was now running things, thought the answer was to bring us all together on Black Cauldron under a group of older guys just promoted to director. But I don’t think that was a great experience for many of us. There was now a new schism between the younger and older guys. So John was pushed into the role of director and was also working on the story. That’s when we started to work together. I was also assigned to work on the story. That was my first time working with storyboards, and John and I had very strong ideas about the overall momentum of the narrative. But I think the older directors just wanted us to board the sequences and let them worry about the overall story.

Bill: Is this when you and John bonded?

Ron: Pretty much. We had similar ideas. Unfortunately, most of those ideas were not shared by the other directors. Eventually they put us in a room to work on stuff that was never going to be used in the movie. It was “additional story,” that is, story never intended to be used. That was a bad experience for both of us, but we discovered we did have a lot in common. We were almost the same age. We were both raised Catholic, and we were both from the Midwest. We both were even cartoonists for our school papers. John was also an incredible caricaturist. And caricature was what helped to eventually land me at Hanna-Barbera and then Disney. It was easy to be friends. Anyway, we were both put on probation on Black Cauldron.

Bill: They took you off the picture?

Ron: No, we were on the picture. But we wouldn’t be for long, if we didn’t change our attitude. It was that kind of probation. But it didn’t matter in the end. Joe Hale was the producer on Black Cauldron. He was very sympathetic to our group, but ultimately he had to choose between us and them. He chose the older guys. I guess it was a good thing, because there was no project slated for development after Black Cauldron. Since I’ve always been a big Sherlock Holmes fan, I had come across this book called Basil of Baker Street, which was about a mouse Sherlock Holmes. I thought it was perfect for a movie adaptation. But I was working on the Rescuers at the time and didn’t pursue it. Well, now seemed like the perfect time to pitch the idea. I brought it to Joe first, and he brought it to Ron Miller. Ron not only wanted to make the movie, but he also saw an opportunity to put all these young disgruntled people to work on an alternative project to Cauldron. So John became the director and I worked on the story. Later, Burny Mattinson was brought on to keep us from going too radical. Basil developed slowly over the next year and a half. Then everything changed overnight. Saul Steinberg, who was a corporate raider, was trying to take over Disney. Evidently, if he succeeded, he was going to dismantle the company and make a huge profit. All of us working on Basil had no idea what was going to happen. It was a precarious time. Finally, Roy Disney and the Brass brothers came in and saved the company at the last minute. And Ron Miller left. Bill: So, Eisner and Katzenberg came in.

Ron: Sweeping changes. For a time, they didn’t even know we existed. We were such a small group, and Ron Miller had been our producer. We used to joke about whether we should tell anybody we existed. A lot of stuff happened at this time. There are a lot of stories.

Bill: We should stay focused on your personal experiences.

Ron: We had to pitch Basil all over again to Michael Eisner and Jeffrey Katzenberg. It was weird. We had worked on this film for a long time. Suddenly, we had to pitch it as if it were a new idea. Well, they liked it. It was greenlit. But Michael reduced the budget and gave us a strict time frame. We had ten million to spend, and we had to finish in about a year. So, we did.

Bill: You did Basil in a year?

Ron: We did. But we had previously worked on the film for over two years, so we had lots of boards, reels, and the cast. We jumped straight into production.

Bill: Basil himself is a manic-depressive. How different was he on the screen from what you guys originally envisioned? Didn’t they ask you to tone it down a little?

Ron: We had to tone it down. That’s why Burny Mattinson was put on the picture. Basil was indeed manic and eccentric. And we pushed that even more early on. Burny carefully pulled us back, allowing for some eccentricity and quirkiness, but nothing too extreme. The film was done very fast. Fortunately, it was animals wearing clothes, which is probably the easiest kind of animation to do. Everything turned out for the best, I think. Black Cauldron was costly and took four years to make. We finished Basil in a year, it was cheap, and it did better at the box office.

Bill: Don’t forget to mention the name.

Ron: Well, we did hate the title change. To us, it was always Basil of Baker Street. But there was a marketing issue. Eisner and Katzenberg had come to Disney from Paramount, which soon released Young Sherlock Holmes. Big names were associated with that film: Steven Spielberg, Chris Columbus, Barry Levinson. I think Basil was greenlit because they were still riding high on that movie. When it finally came out and didn’t do that well, Eisner and Katzenberg were worried about any association with Sherlock Holmes. So the title was changed to The Great Mouse Detective. We hated that name.

Bill: What about the secret memo?

Ron: I don’t think it’s a secret now that Ed Gombert wrote that memo. He was a very talented story guy at the time. Peter Schneider was newly installed as the head of production, and the fake memo was attributed to him. It basically said, “Not only are we going to change the title of Basil of Baker Street to The Great Mouse Detective, but we have also decided to go back and change the titles of all previous Disney films. From this point on, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs will be Seven Little Men Help a Girl; Pinocchio will be The Little Wooden Boy Who Became Real; Cinderella will be The Girl with the See-Through Shoes.” I think he changed all the titles except the Aristocats. Peter was incensed! They wanted to fire whoever wrote that memo. Eventually, it died down and nobody got fired. But that memo has a life of its own. It was eventually the basis for a Jeopardy! question, and the LA Times wrote an article about it.

Bill: Were you and John the sole codirectors of Great Mouse?

Ron: No. Burny and Dave Michener were also directors. John and I were sequence directors. And as for me becoming a director, I should backtrack and say that it was due to Ron Miller leaving. He was the original producer. When he left, Burny became the producer. But he didn’t feel he had time to both produce and direct, so they were looking for another director. I asked Burny to consider me, and he went with that. I guess that was my big break.

Bill: Did you and John do sequences together?

Ron: No, and we still work that way. We split a movie into sequences and then divide them up. We don’t actually work on the same sequences. That’s always been part of our process. There was also no screenplay on that movie. Most of the Disney movies didn’t have one at that time. We did our own writing for the sequences that we boarded. Somehow, we were able to maintain consistency. We both did a lot of writing on Basil. And that reminds me of the “Gong Show,” which was something Eisner brought with him from Paramount. Occasionally, they would gather a lot of the creative people at Paramount to generate new material by simply pitching ideas freely. This was called the Gong Show because the response required a simple gut reaction, yes or no. So we had to do this too. A bunch of us had two weeks to each come up with five ideas to pitch. As I was looking around for ideas, I found this book of fairy tales that included The Little Mermaid. I’d heard of it, but never read it. It didn’t take long to discover that Hans Christian Anderson’s writing was very visual, almost cinematic. It leapt off the page. There was so much potential, I was curious why it hadn’t been made into a movie yet. But as I read further, I could see why. It’s a story that starts out sad, and then it gets sadder and sadder. Then she dies in the end. Depressing, but it intrigued me. A few days later, I had an idea. I thought of making the witch a villain and putting this sort of ticking clock in the story. I wanted this ironic twist where the prince falls in love with her voice, but she gives up the voice. And I had a way to give it a happy ending. I got so excited that I couldn’t sleep. I wrote up two page treatments on five different ideas, but I thought Mermaid was the best. Two weeks later, when we gathered, Michael asked us to pitch our best idea, not all five. When I said The Little Mermaid, they immediately said, “No. That’s too close to Splash.” Nevertheless, they said they would read all the two page treatments. I was very disappointed. Then, two days later, Jeffrey Katzenberg said that he and Michael saw potential in The Little Mermaid. They wanted to put it into development. And for a while I was sort of in charge of that.

Bill: Was John involved with it?

Ron: John was not involved at this point. They were focused on finding a writer. Initially, they wanted Michael Christopher, the Pulitzer Prize–winning writer on the Witches of Eastwick. He was interested, but then backed off because he felt his take would be too dark. That’s when I went to John and suggested that we collaborate on the screenplay. We pitched the idea to Peter Schneider and he agreed. The Great Mouse Detective was also coming to an end, so both of us were looking for a new project. At the same time Jeffrey Katzenberg, prompted by David Geffen, was trying to lure Howard Ashman to Disney. They showed Howard a number of things in development, both live action and animation, and he was most interested in writing the songs for Mermaid. We met him in New York with a 12-page treatment and, for two days, we went over it, figuring out how and what songs could be worked into the story. And Howard a great idea. Howard went on to direct the musical “Smile” in New York while John and I returned to California and wrote the script.

Rob Minkoff

Bill: How long did you stay at CalArts?

Rob: I was there for three years. At the end of my second year at CalArts something kind of devastating happened. Disney didn’t hire anyone. That was a huge blow to the students. In my first year they hired nine people! That got us excited about our future prospects—then, suddenly, nothing. Worse still, rumor had it Disney didn’t like our films. Apparently, they were too dark.

Bill: Your sophomore film?

Rob: Yeah. It was kind of a Hansel and Gretel story. This devious candymaker invites two kids into his store in order to turn them into candy. He literally is going to pick them up and toss them into the candy-making machine. Well, I suppose it was a little dark. But we can probably thank Tim Burton for that! In our first year they showed Tim’s pencil test, and it was amazing. This little film essentially displayed every major concept that Tim is now known for. It was called Stalk of the Celery Monster. That film had a profound effect on us.

Bill: Did that influence your third-year film?

Rob: Well, before that, and after Disney chose not to hire anyone, Dan Jeup came in and announced that three people had been selected to do an internship. I was one of them. We got to do a summer internship with Eric Larson in the summer of 1982. This happened to coincide with the animation strike. No one was in the building because they were all out on the street picketing. That made the experience very strange. We actually had to cross a picket line to get inside the building. We weren’t scabs because we weren’t employed per se. We were just interns. But the nice thing was that we had Eric all to ourselves. He literally had nothing to do but teach us. At this time I also met Don Hahn, Ron Rocha, and Burny Mattinson, who wasn’t picketing because he was a director. Mostly the place was empty, and that gave us an opportunity to do something we couldn’t have done otherwise. We went into everybody’s office and looked at their stuff. We looked at Ed Gombert’s boards, Vance Gerry’s boards for The Great Mouse Detective, which at the time was called Basil of Baker Street. We saw boards hat Tim Burton had done for The Black Cauldron. One day we got very bold. We decided to march upstairs and meet Ron Miller. He had Walt Disney’s old office, and we just wanted to step into that room. So we went up to Lucille … Lucille was Ron’s assistant, right?

---

Bill: Was this the very early stages of Roger Rabbit?

Rob: Yeah, before Steven Spielberg and Robert Zemeckis were involved. Daryl Van Citters, Chris Buck, and Mike Giaimo had been working on it. They even shot a live-action test with Mike Gabriel as the detective. I was basically hanging out with these guys in the beginning. Joe Ranft had introduced me to them. I’d met Joe my first year at CalArts. He’d come back from Disney to give advice and critique the animation tests for some of the students. It was totally informal. Just something Joe wanted to do. We became very close after that. What an amazing talent and all-around human being he was. It was such a tragedy to lose him so young. I still think of him quite often. Anyway, I’d finally gotten a job at Disney and my first assignment was inbetweening on The Black Cauldron under Phil Nibbelink. It was a pretty tough job, except that Phil had all the cute girls working as his inbetweeners.

Bill: How long did that go on?

Rob: For about six months. To keep my sanity, I would take drawing breaks. I would stop inbetweening, pull out a fresh piece of paper, and draw something for fun. Then I would go back to inbetweening. After a while, I acquired a large stack of drawings, which sort of helped me later. There was a small group working on Basil of Baker Street—The Great Mouse Detective, that is. They were thinking about bringing in a new face for some character design work. Brian McEntee recommended me to John Musker. Eventually, John called and asked me to come to his office. He also told me to bring drawings. I reached into my desk, grabbed the stack, and walked upstairs to his office. About a week later Ed Hansen, who was running the animation department, called and said they wanted me as a character designer on the film.

Bill: So John saved you, huh?

Rob: Yes, he did. But it was only supposed to be for a limited time. Ed made it clear that as soon as I was finished it was back to inbetweening! They didn’t want me to get too comfortable! I didn’t care. I was just happy to get out for a while. But then the good thing was I never went back to inbetweening. Somehow I managed to stay on the movie.

Bill: What was it like, working on your first big production as a designer?

Rob: Basil had quite a history by the time I arrived. John and Ron had been developing the movie. It was edgy, adult, and very smart. Heavily influenced by Monty Python’s absurdist humor, which I loved! This was the vision I saw when I peeked at the boards during my internship. When they pitched it to Ron Miller, he basically made them start all over again. Joe Ranft had the funniest drawing of Ron Miller at the time. It didn’t look anything like him, but it was Ron as a giant blue man with blood vessels popping out of his head. The caption read, “WHERE IS THE GODDAMN WARMTH?!” So, Burny was brought in as producer, and Dave Michener also came on board as a director. We had three directors. The entire tone and feel of the movie changed. Ron Miller wanted it to be more “Disney.” But if you look back at Walt’s films, there was some incredibly interesting, dynamic, and scary stuff in those movies. Needless to say, everyone was frustrated. But that didn’t stop me from appreciating the opportunity I had. I got to be a character designer. This was my chance to move forward. Eventually, they assigned me to work on some animation, which pushed me into the role of animator. Then someone said, “You should be an animation supervisor.” I replied, “Sure. That sounds great!”

Bill: This was all on The Great Mouse Detective?

Rob: Yeah, it didn’t take the ten years that Bob McCray and Jack Hanna said it would. But any kind of sudden advancement was met with skepticism by the senior staff. That’s not an easy position for anyone to be in, but Disney was changing. There was a new generation of people that wanted something else, something better. And the frustration was often visible. I remember hearing a story about Brad Bird kicking a Sparkletts bottle down the hallway. But that’s how everybody felt.

Bill: But Brad had already left Disney before you’d got there.

Rob: Yes. But soon after starting, I began hearing that Brad Bird and Jerry Rees were going to make an animated movie, based on Will Eisner’s The Spirit, in Northern California. Brett Newton came to me and said, “Have you heard about this thing that Jerry and Brad are doing? It’s gonna cause a huge revolution in animation! They’re gonna hire everybody who’s any good out of Disney who wants to leave and go work on a movie that’s gonna break all the rules and be the salvation of animation.” Of course I thought it sounded fantastic. He put me in touch with Brad and Jerry, and I soon arranged a meeting up in Northern California. Unfortunately, things weren’t as bustling as Brett had claimed. It was very quiet there. It was just Brad and Jerry. They showed me the test, which I think John Musker and possibly Glen Keane had worked on. It was amazing stuff. But I didn’t get the feeling that production was going to take off anytime soon. And it never did. Eventually, I did end up working for both of them, Brad on Family Dog and Jerry on The Brave Little Toaster. I was still technically an animator at Disney, but I indulged in a little creative freelance work for them. I guess it helped with the frustration I felt at the time.

Bill: Didn’t you briefly leave Disney to work with Jerry Rees?

Rob: I did. I went to see Don Hahn, who was then kind of managing the animation department at Disney. I said, “I’ve got this opportunity to do designs on this Jerry Rees project.” Don was very gracious and understanding. I was very nervous about leaving. I had wanted to work at Disney for so long, and they took me in. But it wasn’t quite the place the literature promised. Don said, “If you want to go, go. It’s okay. You can come back anytime.” So I took a deep breath and left Disney even though there was no guarantee I would be taken back. The door could have been closed forever.

Bill: Did you go to Taiwan?

Rob: No, I didn’t. I spent about five weeks with Jerry up in Hollywood but going to Taiwan just didn’t feel right. So I went back to Don, who said, “If you want to come back, it’s totally fine.” I immediately jumped at my chance to go back.

Bill: Is this when the takeover occurred?

Rob: It was around that time. I remember when I first heard Ron Miller was leaving. I was in John Musker’s sweatbox watching some animation tests with him and Ron Clements. Steve Hulett walked in with the press release that Ron Miller had resigned. I remember being somewhat excited about the possibilities, but Ron Clements had a dour expression and said quite gravely, “It can always get worse!” And soon after, I was there when John and Ron had to pitch The Great Mouse Detective to the new head of Disney, Michael Eisner. I had no idea what was going to happen. They had the opportunity to kill it, if they wanted. In fact, I’d heard that they’d considered shutting down animation entirely but Roy Disney wouldn’t let them.

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Due to feeling intense brainrot for this new The Thing au me and Rufus made I'm gonna make a kinda. intro? post to it? basically listing off the characters with basic descriptions and the whole. premise of the au. You will listen to me ramble. no you don't have a choice. /lhj

BASICALLY. the au is a crossover between TMC and John Carpenter's The Thing (1982), and is about the main TMC cast working at an antarctic research station before being attacked and picked off one by one by an alien entity that mimics organic material. It follows most of the same events as the movie does, though has quite a few differences from the source material that we'll. discuss later. In the meantime, here's the main cast:

Mark Heathcliff (34): Already touched on this dude's main deal in another post but i'll add some things here. He's the head mechanic of the station, and is quiet, and a bit of a loner. He's a recovering (or attempting to recover) alcoholic that is estranged from his family due to such, and only maintains contact with his sister, Sarah. He sometimes lets his emotions get to him, though he knows how to act in serious situations.

Sarah Heathcliff (21): A college student studying electronics, and was invited to the research facility by Mark because she was thinking of working there one day. Still has some grudges against Mark, as their relationship isn't perfect, but she still cares about him and Mark still cares about her. Becomes friends with Evelin.

Evelin Miller (22): The helicopter pilot and technician of the group. Also a bit of a loner, but helps around the facility whenever needed. Hangs out with Dave sometimes.

Cesar Torres (35): The dog Handler of the group, and thus spends a lot of time with the dogs. Is friends with Mark, though their friendship is. rocky, even if they're trying to fix things between each other. He's a bit more social than Mark, though isn't super energetic either. Overall, the voice of reason.

Dave Lee (46): The Biologist of the group. Is pretty friendly towards his coworkers, albeit awkward at times. Also has an interest in tech, even if it isn't his main profession. Though, he tends to make rash decisions when stressed.

Thatcher Davis (45): One of the station commanders. Overall: very tired and stressed. all the time. DEFINITELY has cabin fever. Overall pretty blunt, and occasionally rude, though he almost never means it in malice that's just how he sounds-

Ruth Weaver (46): The second Station commander, as well as a physician/medic. Quiet and calm in stressful situations most of the time, and is overall just there to help.

Jonah Marshall (23): The radio operator and cook of the group. Overall pretty positive and jokes a lot, though gets stressed and frustrated easily, along with being a bit of a coward at times.

Adam Murray (23(?)): A man who doesn't remember who he is after waking up in a Norwegian research base in the arctic. He doesn't remember much of anything from his past, and is unsure why he's so cold, or why he was found with blood on him.

Gabriel (30): The station commander and medic of the Norwegian research facility. Found Adam and took him in to be treated for frostbite. they seem nice, though something about their stare is. unnerving. They have a few coworkers as well (though they don't have proper names or personalities/occupations yet. Though one of them goes by Six, and is. oddly quiet.)

[newmusicweekly]

MARC Radio Flips WHHZ/Gainesville to ''Rock It 100.5''

Progressive and vintage Rock music arrived on the Gainesville, FL area airwaves Tuesday with the launch of "Rock It 100.5 FM" on WHHZ. According to parent MARC Radio Group, the station will fast become known for playing both familiar and underplayed hard rock music that's been missing from the Gainesville playlists for decades. "Rock It 100.5 is fueled by rock" said MARC Radio's Scott Miller. "If you like the Foo Fighters, Pearl Jam, Nirvana, the Stone Temple Pilots, you've found your new radio station. We'll introduce our listeners to groups like Disturbed, Pretty Reckless and Cage the Elephant." Miller said that the catchphrase "fueled by rock" was inspired by Fueled by Ramen, the Gainesville record company founded in 1996 by University of Florida student John Janick, whose diet at that time consisted of instant ramen noodles. The company has grown exponentially and is now part of New York City-based 300 Elektra Entertainment. Rock It 100.5 FM's format features engaging personalities who know how to rock a mic, added Miller. It replaces The Buzz, which had a more typical Classic Rock music format. Based in Gainesville, FL, the station is programmed to reach primarily male listeners ages 18-49 in Alachua County and surrounding communities. Read the full article

[pathbend-blog]

Father John Misty

The Other John

John Mulaney

We didn't haut hit that 🔔 Bumummumumum

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And It Isn't K Word Though?

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Guess America Just Gives Yo'll The Heavens Then?

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And Sylvan Esso Migraine/Seizure Playlist doesn't help with that

Gross

You let me Deal With the Dips and Framestores please

Those Terrorlovers, America Betraying, Nothing Dog Kickers get up to the Myst

I got to go and Get some AC and Rugby

It ain't never coming true Eddie

What did she do to your Brain with that little one so charming giggling?

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I saw Hottie You Let Just Yelling at you like you was nothing.

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BBC Radio 1

Washington Post

Dallas Observer

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You didn't Get That Legal In Berlin

ReddobearSnoopyyoudontgettoruinhisname

NARC

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Save the cheerleader. Save the world Hearos

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Didn't we kind of always know that? Did we kind of always know all of this. That's the fascinating scientific part I'm whispering

BBC Radio 1

BBC Radio 6 Music

Washington Post

United Nations

I am To Understand that since I got the Internet, rare for my kind but Texas was Progressive then

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Washington Post

Reddit

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You understand how it worked and is working today?

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Washington Post

Zola Jesus

BBC Radio 6 Music

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It was still never yours ever

bandcampoakland

United Nations

Joe Biden

The Onion

No I was very kind about the dogs Charlie

You need to stop lying about me on anything on any level

I didn't think the magistrate. I just really liked that guy

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Like you were the Attorneys General

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You expect the American people to believe you didn't know that was going on

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How expensive that is

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And we've been warning about that when We was at the FDA, meaning the spirit of the American people and freedom

For quite a while now

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Washington Post

KQED Arts

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Chuck Palahniuk

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Washington Post

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Phoebe Bridgers

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FBIJobs

Washington Post

Dallas Observer

Is How I feel about it.

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@thenationmagazine-blog

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Anyway, they're trying to Dan quail her. I don't know if that's a good political strategy

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And then we can talk about whether your mall was nicer

Chuck Palahniuk

NBC News

Phoebe Bridgers

Kamala Harris

Donald J. Trump

?

Vatican News

BBC Radio 1

There have been many seasons and it never worked out

Caesar says

[chrisryanspeaks]

Steve Miller Steve Miller to release deluxe 50th anniversary Joker album; shares unreleased "Joker Suite"

STEVE MILLER CELEBRATES 50TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE JOKER J50: THE EVOLUTION OF THE JOKER BOX SET RELEASED BY SAILOR/CAPITOL/UME SEPTEMBER 15, 2023 MILLER’S CREATIVE JOURNEY TOWARDS LANDMARK EIGHTH STUDIO ALBUM CHRONICLED WITH 27 NEVER-BEFORE-HEARD RECORDINGS INCLUDING EIGHT PREVIOUSLY UNRELEASED SONGS AND COMMENTARY FROM MILLER HIMSELF “THE JOKER SUITE,” SHOWCASING THE 5X RIAA PLATINUM-CERTIFIED, #1 HIT TITLE TRACK, WITH THE PREVIOUSLY UNRELEASED “LIDI” AND “TRAVELIN’,” PREMIERES TODAY – LISTEN J50: THE EVOLUTION OF THE JOKER  ALBUM TRAILER STREAMING NOW - WATCH PRE-ORDERS AVAILABLE NOW Steve Miller is honoring the 50th anniversary of his chart-topping, Platinum eighth studio album, The Joker, with a new box set chronicling the artistic journey that led to its creation. J50: The Evolution of The Joker showcases Miller’s process as he expands and reimagines his craft, ultimately finding a strikingly original new sound that brought him to a wider audience than ever before and set the stage for even greater successes to come. Curated by Miller himself, J50 dives deep into the creative process of writing and assembling The Jokerand amplifies its enduring magic by chronologically placing the original album tracks alongside 27 previously unreleased recordings from Miller’s personal archive – including songwriting tapes made by Miller on his TEAC 4-track in hotel rooms on the road and at live performances, plus studio outtakes and rehearsals – as well as six audio commentary tracks from Miller and exclusive liner notes from both Miller and legendary journalist Anthony DeCurtis.  J50: The Evolution of The Joker arrives via Universal on 2xCD, 3xLP + 7”, as well as digital download and all DSPs and streaming services on Friday, September 15. The vinyl version includes a reproduction of a vintage The Joker iron-on and a limited-edition lithograph. Pre-orders are available now. J50: The Evolution of The Joker is highlighted by “The Joker Suite,” an extended piece showcasing the musical path to the album’s 5x RIAA Platinum-certified (5 million sales in the US alone), worldwide #1 hit title track, “The Joker,” with the previously unreleased “Lidi” and “Travelin’,” available today at all DSPs and streaming services. Read More: The Joker was originally released worldwide in October 1973 and quickly became a hit in the United States crossing over from FM underground radio to the AM pop radio of the day. Shortly thereafter, the song went to number 1, first in the States and the rest of the world followed. This mainstream breakthrough success was certainly fueled by dramatic shifts in both the lineup and Miller’s own approach to songcraft. J50: The Evolution of The Joker brings together the original album alongside unreleased recordings, thereby illustrating Miller’s creative process. The collection kicks off with beautiful acoustic live renditions of “Children of the Future,” “Brave New World,” and “Space Cowboy,” recorded while on the road in 1972. Miller had long nurtured his still-growing audience with constant touring, routinely visiting hundreds of cities each year. Backed by Dickie Thompson on keyboards, Gerald Johnson on bass, and John King on drums, the lineup marked Steve Miller Band’s first iteration as a quartet. Fueled in part by Thompson’s B3 organ and electric Hohner clavinet, the band developed a distinctive new sound, blending Miller’s signature psychedelic blues with a focused songcraft that expertly merged his many inspirations and influences into something wholly original and all his own. Their lengthy sets were highlighted by covers of R&B gems like Young Jessie’s “Mary Lou” and The Clovers’ “Your Cash Ain’t Nothin’ But Trash,” both of which would be featured on The Joker. Energized by his band’s nightly workouts, Miller spent his late-night hours recording on a TEAC 4-track tape machine in hotel rooms across the nation, working on new songs largely on 12-string guitar. In July 1973, the band hit Capitol Record’s Studio B in Los Angeles and quickly got to work, recording, mixing, and mastering the album in just 17 days with Miller producing. “The most important rule that every kid out there who wants to make a record should remember is: When you go into the studio, be ready to do the whole performance the first time you do it, because that’s going to be the best time you do it,” Miller says. “The whole thing is to capture the first performance. That’s a lot of what The Joker’s about. It was all first takes, and first takes are always better than perfect takes. “To make a hit record, I thought it was best to have five hooks,” he continues. “Not one, not two, not three, not four, but five, if you really wanted to deliver a hit. Like if you take ‘The Joker.’ ‘Some people call me the Space Cowboy.’ What the hell was that? Then it continues and it gets your attention again: the slide guitar, the chorus, the harmony, the wolf whistle. It all adds up. All of these things are just elements of writing. You learn those elements, and you’re always playing with them.” Miller’s new songs, from the album-opening “Sugar Babe” and longtime live favorite “Shu Ba Da Du Ma Ma Ma Ma,” to the easygoing blues shuffle, “The Lovin’ Cup” (extended by a driving, live acoustic version of Robert Johnson’s “Come On In My Kitchen,” with foot-stomping percussive accompaniment) and the devastating, slow-burn “Evil,” the latter recorded on stage at Boston, MA’s Aquarius Theater. “Something To Believe In” closes The Joker on a warm, reassuring romantic pop lullaby. “Like clear water in a mountain stream,” he sings, “l will come to you in your dreams/Like pictures reflected in a mountain lake/I will be with you when you wake.” Released as a single in October 1973, “The Joker” proved, in Miller’s words, “a real, no kidding, non-stop hit,” played on virtually every radio station around the world. “The Joker” rose to #1 on Billboard’s “Hot 100” while also reaching the top 20 in many countries around the world. In September 1990, more than a decade later, "The Joker" made history by returning to the US, UK, and European charts after being featured in a popular TV commercial for Levi’s – the longest-ever gap between transatlantic chart-toppers. With its title track seemingly everywhere (as well as its indelible masked album cover by famed photographer Norman Seeff), The Joker album was quickly certified platinum by the RIAA – Miller’s first up to that time. Not only was The Joker significant in its own artistic right, but it also positioned Miller for the next, vitally important stage of his career, when he would become one of the biggest hitmakers and most definitive artists of the 70s. Today, Steve Miller’s releases combine for more than 75 million in sales as well as five billion streams. He has multiple #1s and five Top 10 Billboard Hot 100 songs which have spent 226 weeks collectively on the chart. Miller also has four Top 10 albums on the Billboard 200, which have collectively spent 528 weeks on that chart. Read the full article

[audiofuzz]

Steve Miller Steve Miller to release deluxe 50th anniversary Joker album; shares unreleased "Joker Suite"

STEVE MILLER CELEBRATES 50TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE JOKER J50: THE EVOLUTION OF THE JOKER BOX SET RELEASED BY SAILOR/CAPITOL/UME SEPTEMBER 15, 2023 MILLER’S CREATIVE JOURNEY TOWARDS LANDMARK EIGHTH STUDIO ALBUM CHRONICLED WITH 27 NEVER-BEFORE-HEARD RECORDINGS INCLUDING EIGHT PREVIOUSLY UNRELEASED SONGS AND COMMENTARY FROM MILLER HIMSELF “THE JOKER SUITE,” SHOWCASING THE 5X RIAA PLATINUM-CERTIFIED, #1 HIT TITLE TRACK, WITH THE PREVIOUSLY UNRELEASED “LIDI” AND “TRAVELIN’,” PREMIERES TODAY – LISTEN J50: THE EVOLUTION OF THE JOKER  ALBUM TRAILER STREAMING NOW - WATCH PRE-ORDERS AVAILABLE NOW Steve Miller is honoring the 50th anniversary of his chart-topping, Platinum eighth studio album, The Joker, with a new box set chronicling the artistic journey that led to its creation. J50: The Evolution of The Joker showcases Miller’s process as he expands and reimagines his craft, ultimately finding a strikingly original new sound that brought him to a wider audience than ever before and set the stage for even greater successes to come. Curated by Miller himself, J50 dives deep into the creative process of writing and assembling The Jokerand amplifies its enduring magic by chronologically placing the original album tracks alongside 27 previously unreleased recordings from Miller’s personal archive – including songwriting tapes made by Miller on his TEAC 4-track in hotel rooms on the road and at live performances, plus studio outtakes and rehearsals – as well as six audio commentary tracks from Miller and exclusive liner notes from both Miller and legendary journalist Anthony DeCurtis.  J50: The Evolution of The Joker arrives via Universal on 2xCD, 3xLP + 7”, as well as digital download and all DSPs and streaming services on Friday, September 15. The vinyl version includes a reproduction of a vintage The Joker iron-on and a limited-edition lithograph. Pre-orders are available now. J50: The Evolution of The Joker is highlighted by “The Joker Suite,” an extended piece showcasing the musical path to the album’s 5x RIAA Platinum-certified (5 million sales in the US alone), worldwide #1 hit title track, “The Joker,” with the previously unreleased “Lidi” and “Travelin’,” available today at all DSPs and streaming services. Read More: The Joker was originally released worldwide in October 1973 and quickly became a hit in the United States crossing over from FM underground radio to the AM pop radio of the day. Shortly thereafter, the song went to number 1, first in the States and the rest of the world followed. This mainstream breakthrough success was certainly fueled by dramatic shifts in both the lineup and Miller’s own approach to songcraft. J50: The Evolution of The Joker brings together the original album alongside unreleased recordings, thereby illustrating Miller’s creative process. The collection kicks off with beautiful acoustic live renditions of “Children of the Future,” “Brave New World,” and “Space Cowboy,” recorded while on the road in 1972. Miller had long nurtured his still-growing audience with constant touring, routinely visiting hundreds of cities each year. Backed by Dickie Thompson on keyboards, Gerald Johnson on bass, and John King on drums, the lineup marked Steve Miller Band’s first iteration as a quartet. Fueled in part by Thompson’s B3 organ and electric Hohner clavinet, the band developed a distinctive new sound, blending Miller’s signature psychedelic blues with a focused songcraft that expertly merged his many inspirations and influences into something wholly original and all his own. Their lengthy sets were highlighted by covers of R&B gems like Young Jessie’s “Mary Lou” and The Clovers’ “Your Cash Ain’t Nothin’ But Trash,” both of which would be featured on The Joker. Energized by his band’s nightly workouts, Miller spent his late-night hours recording on a TEAC 4-track tape machine in hotel rooms across the nation, working on new songs largely on 12-string guitar. In July 1973, the band hit Capitol Record’s Studio B in Los Angeles and quickly got to work, recording, mixing, and mastering the album in just 17 days with Miller producing. “The most important rule that every kid out there who wants to make a record should remember is: When you go into the studio, be ready to do the whole performance the first time you do it, because that’s going to be the best time you do it,” Miller says. “The whole thing is to capture the first performance. That’s a lot of what The Joker’s about. It was all first takes, and first takes are always better than perfect takes. “To make a hit record, I thought it was best to have five hooks,” he continues. “Not one, not two, not three, not four, but five, if you really wanted to deliver a hit. Like if you take ‘The Joker.’ ‘Some people call me the Space Cowboy.’ What the hell was that? Then it continues and it gets your attention again: the slide guitar, the chorus, the harmony, the wolf whistle. It all adds up. All of these things are just elements of writing. You learn those elements, and you’re always playing with them.” Miller’s new songs, from the album-opening “Sugar Babe” and longtime live favorite “Shu Ba Da Du Ma Ma Ma Ma,” to the easygoing blues shuffle, “The Lovin’ Cup” (extended by a driving, live acoustic version of Robert Johnson’s “Come On In My Kitchen,” with foot-stomping percussive accompaniment) and the devastating, slow-burn “Evil,” the latter recorded on stage at Boston, MA’s Aquarius Theater. “Something To Believe In” closes The Joker on a warm, reassuring romantic pop lullaby. “Like clear water in a mountain stream,” he sings, “l will come to you in your dreams/Like pictures reflected in a mountain lake/I will be with you when you wake.” Released as a single in October 1973, “The Joker” proved, in Miller’s words, “a real, no kidding, non-stop hit,” played on virtually every radio station around the world. “The Joker” rose to #1 on Billboard’s “Hot 100” while also reaching the top 20 in many countries around the world. In September 1990, more than a decade later, "The Joker" made history by returning to the US, UK, and European charts after being featured in a popular TV commercial for Levi’s – the longest-ever gap between transatlantic chart-toppers. With its title track seemingly everywhere (as well as its indelible masked album cover by famed photographer Norman Seeff), The Joker album was quickly certified platinum by the RIAA – Miller’s first up to that time. Not only was The Joker significant in its own artistic right, but it also positioned Miller for the next, vitally important stage of his career, when he would become one of the biggest hitmakers and most definitive artists of the 70s. Today, Steve Miller’s releases combine for more than 75 million in sales as well as five billion streams. He has multiple #1s and five Top 10 Billboard Hot 100 songs which have spent 226 weeks collectively on the chart. Miller also has four Top 10 albums on the Billboard 200, which have collectively spent 528 weeks on that chart. Read the full article

[thejohnmillerprogram]

The John Miller Program w/Ashly Russell 11/5/19 Tonight The John Miller Program with Ashly Russell returns for the gamers.. It all about Postal 4 that was just released on Steam.

[sometimesrosy]

The 100 rewatch 2023 ep 1.07 Live Blog

Contents Under Pressure.

The clarke/raven/finn love triangle is so soapy. blech.

Oh. Storm is here. Raven is trying to reach the Ark Station. But through a hurricane so that's hard. Clarke is being so supportive and reassuring. (that's a real relationship. Princess Mechanic forever.)

Kane is listing Abby's crimes. All punishable by death. Kane is trying to ignore the radio signals. The council voted to save Abby. Kane is bitchy saying those flashes AREN'T evidence of the kids' survival and Abby gets kicked off the council.

THAT is a signal from Raven Reyes. OH it's station wide. LOL. Everyone in the Ark hears Raven saying The 100 are alive. Ha ha. The signal is coming from earth. Kane looks gutted.

Ah it's ClLARKE on the radio. Abby's voice cracks. Ope she just lets dropped the fact that they aren't alone and Finn got stabbed by a grounder. oops. Jaha asks about Wells. No sorry. Wells is dead. :(

Bitch. You sent him down there. Don't get all pissy Jaha.

Abby is breaking up. THERES A HURRICANE BABY. A huge one. Does that cover the entire south east? Monty's moonshine is used as treatment. Monty and Jasper and Bellamy are out in the storm. No they're back. They are dragging Lincoln. "Intel."

"This is not who we are," Clarke says.

"It is now," Bellamy says. And he's right actually. But it's not really a good thing.

Clarke the medic. Abby guiding her. That's nice. Oop. Tying Lincoln up. And here's Miller. Is this the first time we seeMiller?

Octavia is defnding Lincoln. He hit Lincoln for Finn and Jasper and John and Roma. Who are dead. Yes O he speaks English and Bellamy things he'll understand.

Jaha is morose an looking at memories of Wells. Again. You sent them down there. I have never liked Jaha since he said the kids were disposable. Sorry.

Oh what was that lady's name. Diana. Thanks Jaha. She's divisive. Her people are the workers. She used to be the Chancellor. My people. Your people. Sigh. "you've activated project exodus. congratulations. you will forever be remembered as the man who brought us back to the ground."

Well. No actually. He won't. There's no one to remember him for bringing the ark home. Because they are all dead and/or sucked up into a sparkly purple alien.

I missed all Diana's maneuvering because I was thinking about how pointless it all turned out to be. Stupid season 7.

Yeah yeah. Finn will die if she moves the knife a millimeter in the wrong direction.

Oh. he wakes up as she tries to take the knife out. Yipes. I bet the grounders were not as careful taking the spear out of Jasper's chest. Wait what happened? They all got knocked off their asses but the knife is out of his chest. And he's not dead yet. But he's giving Clarke the lovey dovey eyes right in front of Raven and that is just icky.

Bell trying to get Linocln to talk. Miller finds his antidotes. "Who knows with these people." Listen. Bellamy could EASILY have been Pike. I will forever declare that Clarke's influence kept him from being like that.

Finds Lincoln's journal with a drawing of O and hatchmarks of the 100 live and dead.

Abby wants to talk with Clarke. Clarke doesn't want to talke to her. She goes up to talk to Bellamy. Tells his goon to "get the hell out of my way." "If he didn't hate us before, he does now."

Relax princess. You know the narrative never puts the weight on that term that the fandom did.

Bellamy thinks they're fighting a way and Clarke things they're not soldiers. Bellamy thinks they can't win if they don't fight. Because Lincoln is intimidating.

Finn is seizing but i gotta say I don't care. The stakes mean nothing because we know he's fine in the end. Except for being an awful person who ends up murderous. So like. That does not draw me into the narrative in retrospect.

Kane walking through the people and having all of them being angry at him does, however, have narrative and character resonance. Surprisingly. Wow. Watching Kane alter his character before our eyes. Jaha is finally doing the right thing and telling the Ark the truth. General assembly. Oh wait. This is section 17 where everyone died. Kane came to the culling site to wallow in his guilt. "If I had waited a day, two days, they'd still be alive."

He knows it was him. He was so sure. He swore an oath to protect them and instead he killed them. (ACAB)

"Pull yourself together Kane, and then get your ass to the mess hall." Okay I don't hate Jaha ALL the time. He's like a midrange fav character for me. I suppose I like him better than Jasper (sorry Jasper fans.) If I look at it that way. L was a midrange fave, too. There are lots of characters I hated more.

Clarke has figured out that the knife was poisoned. They say he doesn't understand her but he does. She's trying to force him. Now she's begging. B is going to torture him to get the antidote. O wants to say this is not who we are. Ironic considering who she became. I do not like the character development of O through the whole series. Honestly. She mostly got worse. Seeing her now and she was way better in s1 even being a bratty kid.

Now they're hitting him. No. We do not like torture. Bellay. You do not like hitting him. Clarke begging again. But he won't so B has to hit him again. Aww. B touches Clarke's shoulder to get her out of the way.

This ep is pretty good honeslty.

Jaha telling the truth. He lied about the 100. Earth is survivable. The Ark is dying. He says the culling gifted the rest of them the time they need to go to the earth. But the people still think he's lying to cover up the culling. The dude says all those people died for nothing. But he literally just said that they gave them time to find a way to get to the ground. The dude is like you don't know how we feel.

I LOST MY SON!!!!

Jaha offers the open seat to Diana Sydney. What? No election? Bad idea. She's a scum bucket.

Back to the torture. Pain is not going to make Lincoln tell the antidote. Sorry Clarke. B is not hapy. Oh no. I forgot he shoved that thing through his hand. Yikes. He tries to get Clarke to leave. Ugh. Bad. That's bad. Ugh.

Oh i forgot about this. Raven without any compunctions. Shocks him with live wires. He screams for the first time.

Oh wow. Is this necessary???

Raven crying because "He's all I have!!" O slices herself with the knife. "HE won't let me die."

B is dying. Not literally. Emotionally. HIS SISTER.

But fucking Lincoln tells her which bottle is the antidote. She won't let B touch her.

This shit is FUCKED UP. Wow.

Finn has been given the antidote. Now Clarke is crying over Finn. "I can't do this without you." UGGGGGGGHHH. I'm gonna throw up.

Oh is the hurrican passing already? Nah. That doesn't happen that quickly. It was like three hours tops and probably less.

Ugh. Clarke is being a total bitch with Aabby. "Dad's dead because of you. You turned him in. I know it. WElls told me everything before he.... He let me believe he did it so I'd hate him instead of you."

"That was never supposed to happen. Jaha was supposed to talk him out of it."

She was used to preferential treatment because Jaha had a crush on her. But he didn't offer that preferrential treatment to her husband. I'm going with season 1. And season 1 had Jaha with a thing for Abby. Even if they didn't go anywhere with it. Maybe Jaha gave it up when Wells died. But that is a narrative motivation in season 1.

Clarke takes the spike out of LIncoln's hand and tries to treat him but he won't let her. God he's stubborn. And he lets Octavia do it. Sorry Lincoln you're being creepy with the teenager. You are NOT a teenager. This is a kid man.

And O is being spiteful because O does that best. But she's so sweet to lincoln about him saving her life. and fair he did. but he was willing to sacrifice ALL of the other kids. Now he speaks english does he?

I was not expecting to not like Lincoln. This is weird. Stop looking at her like that. Ew it's creepy. I was caught up in the narrative before which makes this a romeo and juliet story. But they were both kids and LINCOLN is and has always been an adult. wtf.

UGh now finn is looking at Clarke like she's the love of his life. And CLARKE says "She needs you finn."And she wakes up Raven and says he's asking for her. Which he isn't.

Must I say it again. Dump the limp hair biscuit and hook up with Raven. PRINCESS MECHANIC RULES.

Bellamy and Clarke. Who we are and who we need to be to survive are two very different things.

I DO NOT LIKE THIS FAMOUS BELLAMY QUOTE> IT's just the ends justify the means and I DO NOT AGREE.

"It's not being in charge, is it?"

Ugh Diana Sydney swearing in. HOw many eps before she betrays everyone?

OH THE BAD NEWS. We're going to the ground. NOT ALL OF US. 2237 people on the ark. Room for 700 in the dropships. They're on the titanic and there aren't enough lifeboats.

All right. That was a jam packed episode. And I have to say I liked it a lot. It didn't have any big resolutions. I suppose the knife came out of Finn. But it was a lot of character development.

Kane has his complete personality switch and goes back to his childhood spiritual center.

Abby learns that Clarke knows she told on her dad.

Jaha finds out Wells is dead and begins to slowly lose it.

O defends Lincoln and sacrifices herself to save him and Finn trusting Lincoln and the Romeon and Juliet thing starts.

Bellamy pushes himself to be this emotionless torturer because he thinks it's who he needs to be.

Clarke essentially gives up Finn in favore of Raven. Poor judgement. She should give up fin FOR Raven and both of them should dump him and sneak off to the bunker together. I am not apologizing. Bellarke isn't ready yet. They should be future ex girlfriends.

Miller takes over as Bellamy's lieutenant.

Diana Sydney, one of my least favorite characters, despite my kind of being on her side with the class issues on the ark, shows up and is giving power without any sort of vote at all.

The exodus is set up. Oh i can't wait til they get to the ground.

LOTS of character development. Lot of action.

Man if I could write this instead of them, things would be different. Wells would survive. Raven and Clarke would hook up and support each other for a while. When that broke up, amicably, Bellamy and Wells would be waiting in the wings. Yes. Raven and Wells. She never had a guy worthy of her and he never had a chance to be who he could have been. I would have LOVED to hear them argue. It would be enemies to lovers, because he was Jaha's son and a pompous ass and she was a cocky bastard who has no respect. AWESOME.

sigh. well anyway.

What did y'all think of the ep? I'm not editing this post. We die like teenagers in the apocalypses.

[muzaktomyears]

OKAY so i finally finished the Craig Brown book and this chapter was one of my favourites, what an amazing portrait of fannishness:

In Reseda, California, sixteen-year-old Pam Miller was so besotted with the new arrivals that within the privacy of her schoolgirl diary she turned herself into a Liverpudlian. On 10 February 1964 she wrote: 'Paul you are gear. Really Fab. Say chum, why are you so marvellous, luv? The most bloomin' idiot on earth is me, cause I'm wild over you chap'.

From then on she posted Paul a poem every day, sealed with a kiss. As February rolled into March, her diary entries grew more intimate:

2 March 1964: It is 2:21 am at Paul's house. He's sleeping. I'm glad. I wish I could see him sleeping, I really do. I wish I could be with him sleeping (just kidding). I hope he read my poem before he closed his beautiful brown eyes.

Pam was perhaps rather more forward than other Beatles fans of her age. One of her particular treasures was a bubble-gum card of Paul - a photograph of him playing his guitar on a hotel bed, with his legs apart. She studied it close-up: 'You could actually see the shape of balls being crushed by the tightness of his trousers. I carried that card around with me in a little gold box with cotton covering it like it was a precious jewel'.

Virtually every day, on her local radio station KRLA the disc jockey Dave Hull, 'the Hullabalooer', would deliver an update on the state of Paul's relationship with his new girlfriend. Pam listened with growing resentment of the young lady she came to call 'the creepy freckle-faced bow-wow, Jane Asher', or simply 'Pig-Face'.

Pam covered her bedroom with Beatles merchandise. Her three best friends were also Beatles fans. Each her her own favourite. Stevie loved Ringo: 'I've got to meet Ringo or my whole life will be completely empty. Oh, I'm suffering so. He's my love and I love him. Oh, God, please don't let my Ringo be taken away!'

Linda loved John. Together, Pam and Linda would be Paul and John. They spoke to each other in Liverpudlian accents, pretending to go to parties and to eat in expensive restaurants. Pam had a reel-to-reel tape recorder, and would make up little plays, taking all the parts herself. In all of them, Jane Asher would die. But in her letters to Paul, she was the soul of tact:

Dear Paul, Your fans will always love you. Personally, I will never stop. Since hearing about your engagement to Jane Asher, I'll have to love you in another way, all of my own.

Pam's friend Kathy was in love with George. It so happened that Kathy's father had a pal who worked at the Hollywood Bowl, where the Beatles were due to play in August. Luckily, this pal managed to wangle them four tickets. Pam framed hers, hung it on her bedroom wall and started counting down. In her diary entry for 3 June she wrote: 'There's an actual day this year that is called August 23rd! It comes in 83 days!!'

With twenty-one days to go, the four girls went to see A Hard Day's Night. It was everything Pamela hoped it would be. 'The Beatles are the greatest actors alive,' she told her diary.

On 23 August she wrote: 'Day Of All!! Tonight I saw Paul. I actually looked at his lean slender body and unique too-long legs. I saw his dimples and his pearly white teeth. I saw his wavy, yet straight lengthy hair. I saw his doe-like eyes... and they saw me. Maybe it's fate that brought him to our sunny shores... for I am here too'.

One Two Three Four: The Beatles in Time, Craig Brown (2020)

[lulu2992]

The sins and virtues of Collapse

Part 5: Jacob

Although he’s not perfect and a few mistakes were made regarding Jacob, the oldest Seed brother is less out of character than Faith and John.

The main problem, in my opinion, is the way the “Miller incident” is treated. In the vision in “Providence”, Jacob seems haunted by what happened and what he did. While he did suffer from PTSD and had, according to The Book of Joseph, “hundreds” of traumatic memories that would sometimes “surge up at any moment, tormenting him day and night”, I don’t think Miller’s sacrifice was the right one to focus on. In Far Cry 5, Jacob barely expresses guilt over what happened that day because, just like Joseph sacrificing his daughter or John being “taught” about the power of yes by his parents, and even though what he went through was undoubtedly traumatic, he believes what happened simply had to happen and that what he did had to be done. Just like Joseph, he’s rationalized it and now sees it as a test, one that he passed brilliantly. Just like John, he derived his entire ideology from his trauma. It changed him and taught him everything he preaches and believes in: that the weak have to be sacrificed so the strong can live because they deserve to, that war brings the best out of people, etc. Of course, like his siblings, his reaction to this traumatic event could be interpreted as a defense mechanism, and I believe there’s truth in this. But the point is, I don’t think what he did to Miller (incorrectly described as his friend in the DLC, which probably explains a lot) is what would torment him the most precisely because it shaped the man he was and his entire philosophy. It’s also strange he uses his music box (which weirdly sounds like a radio) to calm himself down considering it was just a conditioning tool in Far Cry 5. The song didn’t seem to have a pacifying effect on him.

The other problem is that Collapse makes it seem like the “weak vs strong” theory isn’t something Jacob’s life taught him but rather an idea Joseph insidiously planted in his mind when he was at his weakest. In “Divine Justice”, in the recording of the day they were reunited, Joseph tells him he doesn’t belong “among the weak” and that he knows “what needs to be done”, to which Jacob replies, “Sir yes sir”, like he never really had a personal ideology and only obeyed Joseph’s commands. But Jacob had his own strong beliefs and wouldn’t hesitate to “fight” Joseph. He was loyal and he loved his brother, but he was far from submissive.

In Collapse, Jacob states that he never believed he would survive anyway and that he joined Joseph simply because he “hated this fucking country”. He was indeed ready and prepared to die for Joseph but he had a vision, a mission he wished to accomplish before the Collapse: he wanted to protect his family, to build and train an army, and he tried to do it using what war taught him. He also says he never believed Joseph talked to God, which reinforces the idea that he wasn’t there because he had faith in his brother’s message. In Far Cry 5, he simply said he didn’t know if Joseph could really hear God, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t a believer. In the DLC, Jacob also says Joseph has always been afraid of him, and I have no idea where this comes from.

When Jacob blames Joseph for his death and accuses him of using him to save himself, of being happy when he died, and of planning his death, we can conclude that it’s simply Joseph’s guilt tormenting him and that Jacob would never have actually said such things. Similarly, when Jacob kills Joseph in “Providence”, it could be the Voice manipulating him. On the contrary, it was great to hear Joseph call him “My fighter”, admire his strength and courage, and promise he will make sure that he didn’t die in vain. And Jacob sounding almost sorry for asking for Joseph’s help in “The Book of Joseph” was poignant in the best way possible. Still, he didn’t join Eden’s Gate because he had nothing better to do or because Joseph forced him to... In Collapse, it feels like Jacob was just a soldier, a follower. In Far Cry 5, as broken as he was, he was a leader.

[thequarries]

1

prologue

The night was normal for Murphy. Just some studying, music, and procrastination. Nothing was out of the ordinary.

The cassette player from across Murphy’s bed played his favorite mix: rock, specifically Bowie, along with some other random songs mixed in for good measure. Their mix tapes were his favorite way to decompress at the end of a long day: nothing but boring, slow homework, sprinkled with some amazing tunes to help soothe the pain.

“Murphy!” It was his mom, calling out from the living room. “Come here for a second!”

They rolled their eyes, turning the knob of their bedroom door.

“Have you seen this?” she pointed at the TV. “Isn’t he in your grade?”

Murphy studied the television. It was turned on to the news, like always, talking about a new missing persons report: John Airstroth, and now Frankie Miller.

John was in Murphy’s year, but they didn’t interact at all. John was popular, a little bit of a douche bag. Even Winnie didn’t interact with him, and she interacted with everybody. I guess Winnie has standards now. However, Murphy failed to recognize Frankie. According to the broadcast, she was only two years younger than them, a freshman, but Frankie’s face escaped Murphy.

“Yeah, we never talked though.” John’s picture seemed to stare directly at Murphy.

“And now this other girl—it’s like 1983 all over again.”

“I doubt it’s like 1983. Frankie and John were close,”—a lie—“so maybe they just ran away together. Kids talk about that all time at Hawkins High.”

His mom looked at Murphy. “There’s a new curfew—I expect you to follow it. Don’t go out alone after sunset and please either call me directly after school or come straight home.”

A curfew?? What am I, seven years old? “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

Murphy turned and sprinted back to his room.

“I’m going to the grocery store!” their mom yelled out.

“Okay!”

They crawled up on their bed, fishing for the pencil they were using for their homework which was lost somewhere in the blankets. Where had it gone…

As he was looking, he became lost in thought: I wonder where John is. Is he okay? What about Frankie? And finally, the most dreaded thought: is this going to be like 1983 all over again? Whatever. It doesn’t matter. What matters is what Mrs. Kennedy is going to do to your grade if you don’t get this paper done.

The cassette came to a sudden stop, leaving the room quiet. Murphy couldn’t lie to themselves: it was a little unnerving. The stillness of the house, as he was the only one home at that point. Here he was, listening to David Bowie, when John or Frankie could be dead, in the trunk of a car within a mile’s radius of him. Whatever. Whatever whatever. Just flip the tape.

Their hands were shaking as they pressed the eject button on their cassette player, their body becoming increasingly riddled with unrest the longer the room was silent. The only sound being produced, or rather the only sound Murphy could hear, was sound that Murphy caused. They shoved the cassette into the player, going hitting play before noticing something odd about the player.

They put their ear closer to the speaker, trying to see if they were imagining it. But, horrifically, they realized they were not: a light sound of static quietly hummed on the radio, as well as the faintest sounds of someone breathing heavily. The room felt even quieter.

Murphy perked their head back up, pressing the play button. The speaker went silent, and then: music. Finally.

Sighing with relief, Murphy continued his scavenger hunt for the pencil, lost somewhere in the bed. This happens every fucking time.

Suddenly, the cylindrical shape found its way into his hand. Gotcha. 

In all this searching, Murphy hadn’t realized the fact that music had stopped again. Did he mess up the tape? Did he forget which orientation to put it in? Did–

The cassette player started blasting sound, before immediately stopping, then again and again. “There–man–ing–the–y–h–like–” the radio was almost talking. The static and breathing started to come back. The lights flickered.

Murphy slowly stepped off the bed, taking his fate in his own hands: for all he knew there could be someone under their bed, waiting for the right moment, an intruder in the house, something hiding in plain sight.

The lights started flickering more violently. His heart dropped.

As he slowly bent down to pick up the cassette player he noticed smoke coming from the back. The plastic was extremely hot. The player was totaled.

His pencil falling from the bed. A slight sound, loud enough to cause shock waves. Terrified, Murphy started to slowly turn around.

The wall. It was moving. It was contorting into something human–but something that was anything but human, with thin bony arms and an angled face and the wall–it was almost as if the wall was stretching, some sort of plastic or clay conforming to the hands. Murphy screamed as the lights slowly started to turn a sinister irony-red color, a disembodied shade of rose.

Murphy ran, heart pounding in his ears. It felt like all of the blood of his body was rushing to his head, bleeding out of his eardrums, staining his ears. But he didn’t care. He ran, all the way through the hallway, to the outside of his house. To the street past his driveway.

He watched in pure untainted terror as the house’s lights completely shut off, with loud ear piercing noises of screeching coming from inside. For the first time that night, Murphy was completely still. Solely concentrating on the house.

Another scream. The lights flickered back on. He stood, watching the windows for the skinny figure he saw before, listening for the slightest sound of anything from the house. Nothing.

Before reentering, Murphy grabbed the axe from the backyard shed. They tightened their grip around the cold wooden base, as they slowly opened the front door of their house.

Everything was untouched. Even Murphy’s room, rather than his fried cassette player. It was almost as if nothing had happened at all.

As expected, Murphy did not finish their history paper that night.

chapter 2

[dannymillerfansite]

‘I’m a Celebrity’ champ joins lifesaving campaign

Ask us why Danny Miller is brushing up on his survival skills through Three Ways to Save a Life

Actor and ‘I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here’ reigning champ - Danny Miller - has become the 14,000th person from Greater Manchester to learn first aid skills as part of a major campaign with St John Ambulance and BBC Radio Manchester.

Following the fifth anniversary of the Manchester Arena bombing, the two organisations have been bringing essential first aid skills across Greater Manchester to the public and local organisations, through a mix of public training sessions and on-demand training.

The Three Ways to Save a Life campaign has now trained just over 14,000 people since it launched in May.

The Emmerdale star who was crowned I’m A Celebrity’s ‘King of The Castle’ in 2021, was joined by his wife Steph at St John Ambulance’s training centre in Stockport where they were taught vital live-saving techniques, 

Commenting on the campaign, Stockport born Danny Miller said:  “I’ve always been keen to broaden my knowledge of first aid, so it was fantastic to get involved with this brilliant campaign by St John Ambulance and BBC Manchester.

“I had previously done some first aid training, but I really wanted to improve my skills since my son Albert was born – particularly around choking. And to also be on hand in day-to-day life, should anyone need help in an emergency and to be able to assist until professional medical support arrives.”