#My job is to record if she appeared not the quality of the appearance

[dc-spoiler-alert]

Steph this week! 29Jan2025

- DC's Lex and the City (cameo)

[silverview]

⚠️ stage/fright notes + audio below the cut ⚠️ spoilers obviously ⚠️

do not look if you have any intention of seeing the show. this is for those who are not going to see it (or if you've already seen it & want to compare notes). i'm only sharing this because the run is sold out.

if you don't want full spoilers but just want to know about something specific (like a trigger warning etc) feel free to ask :)

first off, you can listen to my full recordings here [edit 20-01-2025: removed the link]. all i've done to these is snipped out some audience chat. they're not great quality but i think you can hear everything alright. if you want clarification on what was happening at any point, just let me know & i'll try to remember!

this ⬇ is just an overview with some personal highlights, so i'm sorry for everything i've missed out or gotten wrong.

i'm mostly refraining from commentary or analysis here, but needless to say i am shrieking and writhing on the ground about it.

the first act is a medley of bits & pieces:

it opens with a sketch set in the audience at a production of hamlet. a man (toby manley) sits down alone & fondly places a woman's scarf on the empty seat next to him. three disruptive audience members sit down near him, including one who describes the play aloud:

[edit 20-01-2025: removed the audio]

one of them's rather pudgy... the other one looks like a homosexual 👁👁

anyway, toby gets up and leaves, & reece takes his place. reece proceeds to murder the three disruptive audience members, then addresses the real audience with a polite request not to misbehave during the show.

from the audio you can't appreciate the way reece looks when he's about to finish off his last victim – towering over her, weapon in hand, while she's slumped down and staring up at him in terror, yay

the theme tune is performed live by two fantastically intense women with violins, up in the boxes, staring at each other throughout.

next, steve & reece address the audience as themselves. they explain that the theatre is supposed to be haunted by a ghost called bloody belle. reece believes in ghosts, steve doesn't, and proves it by having the crowd shout "bloody belle" three times to "summon" her

[edit 20-01-2025: removed the audio]

then bcdr is performed more or less as it appeared on tv. on "does it not tickle," len – passing behind tommy – goes for the arse instead of the arms. :|

part way through, tommy discovers a new sketch among len's things, "the kidnapping sketch" –

we see this performed sort-of by len and tommy, using their own names, (working through their own issues,) only in costume as the characters from a quiet night in. (complete with rachmaninoff.) in this segment steve (or rather len) speaks and acts like barry baggs from tlog.

instead of stealing a painting, the quiet night in guys are on a kidnapping job. they kidnap the wrong person, & we're given to understand this will be different celebrity guests depending on the night. tonight it was jim howick!

[edit 20-01-2025: removed the audio]

they make a bunch of gags about jim's work. reece's (or rather tommy's) character accidentally shoots and kills him.

then we get the end of bcdr but WITHOUT tears of laughter. (crucially.) bloody belle appears onstage & screams. end of the first act!

the second act is mostly one long piece, essentially a brand new episode about actors rehearsing a horror play.

in the horror play, reece plays an inmate at an asylum, who performs a comedy song and then gets dragged back to his cell. the song didn't record very well i'm afraid but his deranged laughter is good:

[edit 20-01-2025: removed the audio]

steve (having spent the first act in low status town) gets to play a fantastic hammy sadistic brain surgeon and rapist :) he has reece's character brought back in and strapped to a chair (obviously). then he hypnotises him and forces him to mutilate himself. it's great. normal length clip for normal reasons

[edit 20-01-2025: removed the audio]

then we spend time with the actor characters who are performing the horror play. on this level of reality, reece's character is conspiring to scare an actress away from the production using the bloody belle legend. in this section there are some fun references to the 9th circle tv show :)

at one point in this section, steve's demeanour shifts dramatically. he emotionally talks about actors seeing ghosts of loved ones onstage. he walks over and hugs reece, then exits.

reece's character's scheme is successful, but he belittles & sexually harasses his co-conspirator, who snaps his neck. fin.

when the curtain rises, reece's "corpse" has been replaced by toby manley, who gets up and joins the rest of the cast in the bows. steve addresses the audience about reece's recent death, and explains why he chose to go ahead with the play, with toby playing reece's part. he admits that during the performance, he was seeing reece, not toby.

[edit 20-01-2025: removed the audio]

this is the bit where you're gonna think i'm making it up. steve is hit on the head and killed by a falling light.

he wakes up to see reece in a beautiful white tailcoat, offering him coffee, welcoming him to the afterlife, and gloating about how ghosts are real. they bicker gently, but confess to having missed each other, and agree to haunt the theatre together. "every ghost story is really just a love story." [extremely long pause that must be heard to be believed]

[edit 20-01-2025: removed the audio]

reece points out the bcdr performance was incomplete; steve says he couldn't bear to do the song without reece. steve has a costume change to match reece (plus white top hats) so they look like they're getting married, and they perform a big heavenly afterlife version of tears of laughter with the whole cast. FIN FOR REAL. FOR REAL. IT'S REAL.

[edit 20-01-2025: removed the audio]

very VERY brief & incomplete thoughts:

len very clearly putting his real feelings about tommy into the kidnapping sketch. what that implies about reece & steve. screeching and howling

i don't think it's really implied that ghost!reece is responsible for steve's death, but it's a possibility we can't discount. "we're both here now, and that's the main thing." that's true love. maureen & david style

tumblr user bluvlet said something like "grief in this show is like the hare or the number 9." i have a half-finished vid about that idea that i'm impatient to get back to. definitely obsessing over it tonight.

they are obsessed with each other and with rehearsing their own (each other's) deaths.

[steddieas-shegoes]

stumbling into you

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'meet-cute at work' rated: M wc: 999 cw: sexual innuendo, semi-public handsy making out tags: making out, getting together, rock star Eddie Munson, modern au

a/n: let me just say getting this under 1000 words took longer than it took to write the original 1484 words it was 🙁

🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢

Steve's first day was going better than expected.

He'd admittedly lied about his skills to get this job, but how hard could it be to run errands?

A metal band in need of throat lozenges and hot tea was in the studio now.

Easy enough task to do.

When he walked into the control room, it seemed empty.

He looked back and checked the room number on the door.

"Let me help."

Steve turned to see the hottest guy he'd ever seen standing by the mixing board starting to walk over to him.

"Oh. Okay," Steve stuttered out.

"Let me grab the teas," the man said, his hand brushing against Steve's.

"I can just-" Steve let him, flushing when he smiled at him. "I could have set them on the table."

"It's okay, you've got your hands full..." he looked at the badge hanging off his lanyard. "Steve?"

"Yeah, sorry. First day."

"Really?" The man took the pack of throat lozenges from him, opening the bag and popping one in his mouth. "Welcome then. I'm sure we'll see a lot of each other over the next month or so."

"Do you record here a lot?"

"Yeah. We've got this studio booked solid for the next three weeks. Album needs to be perfect and we always get the best quality here."

"So do you sing?"

"I sing. Lead guitar, too."

"Is it a band I know?"

The man looked him over, taking in his business casual appearance, glasses slipping down his nose.

"I don't think we play anything you've listened to. Corroded Coffin?"

"My little brother listens to you! His mom never let him go to a concert though, said it would be too rough on him. He's kinda small for his age and she worries." Steve bit his lip. "Sorry, rambling."

"Cute, Stevie."

Steve blushed.

"I'm Eddie."

"Steve."

"Yeah, Stevie, I got that. You like any metal?" Eddie was clearly trying to have a real conversation with him, but Steve was drawing a blank on what the English language was.

"Never listened to any."

"You wanna listen? Something's off, but I can't put my finger on what. Maybe you could give me an idea."

"M-me?" Steve's eyes went wide.

"Yes, you," Eddie nudged him and tipped his head towards the mixing board. "C'mon, honest opinion."

"I-"

"Pleeeease?" Eddie pouted.

"Okay, but I don't really know what good is supposed to sound like," Steve agreed, walking to the board.

"Good is relative. If you think it sounds like metal music should, that's at least on the right track," Eddie pushed a couple of buttons and flipped a switch.

A surprisingly soft guitar melody filled the room, followed by a husky voice singing.

"This sounds..."

"Sounds?"

"You sound sad."

"Well, that's kind of what I was going for, so I guess that's a good thing."

The music cut off and Steve immediately wished he could hear more.

"Do you have other stuff recorded?" Steve suddenly needed to hear more of Eddie's voice.

"You wanna hear more?"

"If you want?"

Eddie flipped another switch, pressed a button, and a much faster guitar started playing, followed by heavy drums.

"This one doesn't have vocals."

Steve wouldn't listen to this regularly, but he could admit when people were talented, and it was very clear that Eddie and his band were talented.

"You're really good," Steve smiled at him.

"Thanks, sweetheart."

Eddie shut off the music and stood up.

He leaned closer to Steve, playful smirk on his face.

"You wanna go in the booth?"

"I'm not allowed."

"I'm allowed and I'm asking, so." Eddie wiggled his eyebrows, making Steve giggle.

"Okay, sure."

Once in the small booth, Steve felt overwhelmed with Eddie's presence.

His body heat was enough to make Steve sweat.

"You do all the lead vocals?" Steve asked.

"Yeah. Since day one," Eddie said from right behind him, so close his breath hit the back of Steve's neck.

Steve shivered, closing his eyes as he felt Eddie's hand rest on his lower back.

"Tell me to stop if you want me to," Eddie whispered against his shoulder.

"I don't," Steve gasped.

Eddie turned him, pushing him against the wall behind him.

"Can I kiss you?" Eddie breathed against his lips.

Steve nodded, a whimper escaping his mouth as Eddie's lips touched his.

Eddie was a soft chorus, a soft kiss.

A soft moan when Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie's neck.

Eddie's fingers gripped Steve's hips, tugging him forward so their hips met, both already half hard.

"Wait," Steve said when Eddie started kissing down his neck. "When will they be back?"

"Don't know." Eddie nipped at one of Steve's freckles. "Don't care."

Steve moaned again when Eddie's hand found the front of his pants.

"What if-"

"Don't know. Don't care."

Steve threw his head back as Eddie's hand cupped him over his pants.

"Fuck, feels good."

"How fast can you come?" Eddie's hand squeezed, almost making Steve's legs buckle.

"I-"

"Eddie! Thought you were joining us!" A voice yelled.

"Be there in a few! Just wanted to check something!" Eddie yelled back.

"You're a workaholic!"

Eddie checked through the crack in the door to make sure the person left before he turned back to Steve with a sad smile.

"I probably should join them." Eddie cupped the side of Steve's face in his hand. "Maybe after your shift we can meet up?"

"Really?"

"Really, sweetheart."

"Oh. Um, I guess. I mean, it's probably against the rules, but I can give you my number?"

"I won't let them fire you. I made the move, right?" Eddie dipped his thumb into Steve's mouth for just a second, teasing.

Eddie may have made the first move, but Steve was quick to make the next one that night, not giving Eddie a second to say hi before he was in his lap in the backseat of a hired car.

Steve's job had a lot of perks, but gaining a boyfriend was definitely the best one.

[spookymystery67]

I Wish I Could Walk In Heels

AN: Another late chapter...yay? Sorry, a lot of stuff is going down in my life and I am having a hard time getting into the headspace to write. Long story short, stress is at a all time high and I'm hotel hopping right now so I have zero alone time away from my family to actually write stuff without people snooping over my shoulder. I had this chapter pre written before shit hit the fan and though I'm iffy on the quality, I figured I just publish something for you all. Hope you all enjoy it!

-Los Iluminados, 2004-

Chapter 20:

Was this man seriously dancing? Right now?  

You didn't know whether to be annoyed or amused as Luis, a Spanish man with dark, floppy hair, gracefully moved to the sound of music that only he could hear.

Well, you supposed everyone has their own ways of coping with traumatic and stressful situations. No matter how eccentric or slightly inappropriate they may be in said situation.

The infected, mindless, men walked toward the cell Luis was locked in, unlocking the cell to, presumably, kill him like they did the other prisoners just a few rooms over. 

Luis paused his dancing and said something in Spanish to the corpse locked in with him as the cell door was opened. 

As the infected men walked closer to Luis, who was posed and ready to fight, the robed woman quickly took action.

The lantern she held in her hands hit the infected man behind her knocking him away and unconscious. She quickly kicked and punched the others, getting rid of the current threat in record time as Luis just stood back and watched in awe.

“Clear.” The robed woman said. You walked out from your hiding spot in another nasty cell as Ada took off the disguise. It was decided that she would be the one undercover for the moment when you had only found one robe. Your job was to stay out of sight and keep an eye on Luis. You feel you did a good job, all things considered. 

“That's no way to finish a dance.” Ada said as she tossed the robe away. It landed on the corpse, covering the gruesome sight. She knew you were a little squeamish when it came to rotting bodies. And while covering it didn't help the smell, it did warm your heart to see her attempt to ease the nausea she knew you've experienced since you've walked into this room.

Luis looked a little surprised at your sudden appearances, before he smirked in response to Ada and did a little dancing maneuver. His hand landed on Ada's waist as he posed. Ada had a hand on her hip, looking unimpressed with his silly antics.

She took a cigarette out of a package of them and stuck one in his mouth. “Your favorite, I believe.”

“Excellent timing, Ada. You know how I feel about being tied up.” Luis teased as Ada spun away from him, tossing the pack of cigarettes his way. He caught them as she spun to stand by you, with your arms around her waist to catch her, completing the little dance. He looked you over.

“I didn't know you were bringing a friend. She is quite the beauty. I'm Luis.” He said, officially introducing himself to you in a charming way that, honestly, probably would have made you swoon if you weren't involved in a relationship with the goddess of a woman that was currently held within your arms.

Instead, you just raised an eyebrow at the pretty Spanish man and huffed a slightly amused laugh at the charming yet dorky smile he sent your way. “Y/n. Not surprised that our boss didn't mention I was coming along. Sorry about that.” You responded. You hugged Ada's waist a little tighter before releasing her from your grasp as you both exchanged a slight smile.

He waved you off. “Ah, the more the merrier. Pleasure to be meeting you, Señorita.” He smiled before turning back to Ada. “And yes, many thanks.” He shook the cigarette pack in his hand in gratitude. “You see, those annoying monks took everything from me.”

Ada had a look of disbelief. “Including the Amber?”

Luis laughed. “No. Cleverly hidden, just before they grabbed me.”

“Well then lead the way.” Ada urged impatiently. The sooner you grabbed the Amber, the sooner you all could leave.

“My pleasure.” Luis said, gesturing dramatically to the exit of the cell. “And here we go. This way.” He started leading the way out of the castle dungeons.

“Is it close?” Ada questioned.

“Not exactly. But it's safe.”

“No Amber, no deal. You know the terms.” Ada said. While we walked she grabbed objects placed around the castle she thought would be useful, such as herbs, as Luis led the way.

“We're good. We're good.” Luis reassured her. “What do you want with it anyway?”

“I don't know…yet.” Ada muttered.

You both had your guesses. All of them mostly suggested that what Wesker had in mind was nothing good. You hadn't decided if you were going to pull through and just give him the Amber. But with the way things were in Los Iluminados, you were both leaning towards a hard no. 

You all made your way out of the cells through a large hole in the wall, quickly ducking behind another wall for cover as you noticed a group of monks a little too close for comfort. 

They know you're here.

“We've got company. They're looking for us. But we're taking the highroad, got it?” Ada said. You nodded in agreement to the plan.

“Understood.” Luis said as you all ran out to the more open area once the coast was clear.

You quickly jogged to the rope hanging from the exit you were to take, shaking your head fondly as you heard the clacking of Ada's heels. Her shoes may gather attention at this point with the way they are echoing off the marble of the grand room. But you loved her and her impractical outfits.

Ada grabbed the rope and quickly tied it around Luis's waist, making him release a startled gasp when she tightened it too suddenly.

“Up you go Luis.” Ada said as she patted his shoulder.

He laughed and tugged at the rope, muttering something in Spanish once more.

“A little more urgency please. Any moment we could have-” You're cut off by the large doors slamming open. A giant insect creature that may have once been human, but no longer resembles one other than the way it stood, calmly walked in. Eyes glowed in your direction and its insect face moved in an eerie way that sent chills down your spine, giving you flashbacks of your unfortunate experience with those giant bugs back with Jill in Raccoon City.

“...company. Ew.” You grimaced and withheld the urge to vomit.

“Fetch the Amber. We'll meet up later.” Ada told Luis. You took out your prefered shotgun in preparation to kill the freak of nature. Or, well, not nature you supposed. Freak of a creation made by mad men.

Luis tried to resist. “No! Sorry, what kind of a man leaves two ladies to - woah!” He never got to finish as he was quickly yanked up to the exit by the rope around his waist.

The freak of man grew large, gooey, bug-like talons from its right arm to use as a weapon. The sounds alone made you feel nauseated. 

“That's disgusting.” You muttered, trying to choke back the bile rising in your throat from the thing in front of you and Ada. You could see Ada nod in agreement from your peripheral vision.

You both quickly spared a glance up to where Luis should be to see if he made it safely. He untied himself and called down to you. “Then we meet at the church. Let's not make it a funeral, eh?” He grumbled angrily as he quickly left.

You quickly took out the monks that appeared around you to allow Ada to focus on the bug creature before you. You quickly ducked from the swing of the gooey talon ax it grew as Ada took the distraction and shot it in the face, knocking it down.

You both paused as it laid there for a while, glancing at each other in disbelief. 

“There is no way it was that easy.” As if to prove your point, it quickly sat up in that inhuman manner, making creepy crawly sounds that made you shiver in disgust.

You hate bugs.

“You had to say something, didn't you?” Ada sighed as she quickly raised her gun once more.

“What? You thought it was dead? That easily?” You said as you raised your gun and backed away from the bug creation to gain some distance.

“No. But I hoped. That hope was instantly crushed when you had to open your mouth.” Ada smirked teasingly.

“Right, because the universe hates me and loves to prove me wrong. Or, right, in this case.” You sarcastically responded. 

“See? You get it.”

The creature rudely interrupted you two by throwing a gooey, pulsing substance on a nearby pillar, making Ada shove you away. 

You both quickly ducked and rolled away as the strange material exploded. Ada covered you and gasped as some drops of the burning substance hit her arm. You turned to her in concern, but she waved you off, eyeing the bug monster.

“Not bad. But not nearly good enough.” Ada whispered to the creature, taking out her pistol and making accurate headshots as it slowly walked toward you.

You made to move and help, but Ada interrupted you. “Get out of here, Y/n! Go find Luis while I handle this. I'll meet up with you soon.”

You shook your head, immediately denying her order as you shot the creature. “Hell no! If you think I am leaving you to fight that alone then you're completely mistaken.”

“Y/n! I mean it! Luis is the only one who knows where the Amber is, and if anything happens to him then we likely won't ever be getting out of this place alive. Find Luis. I'll be fine.” Ada demanded before she resumed the fight, distracting the creature long enough for you to slip out undetected.

You didn't want to leave her alone with that monstrosity. You really didn't. You've been a team for six years and had not once left each other alone to fend off such a danger. But you knew she was right. Luis is your only connection to the Amber. Losing him would mean losing the Amber. And finding that Amber is the only way Wesker would ever let you and Ada get out of here alive.

You couldn't worry about Ada now. Right now, you have to find Luis.

To the church you go.

—

Dodging and fighting off the mindless villagers had become more and more of a hassle as the night progressed. They were everywhere, throughout the castle and beyond, with weapons in hand, mindlessly muttering words in Spanish that you could not even bother trying to understand as you had one goal in your mind you needed to focus on.

You had made it to the church in record time, all things considered. With the increase in activity from the villagers, it was a miracle you had made it with only superficial wounds covering your flesh that was left bare in the bitter cold of the late autumn season. Your jacket had a few tears from the stray pitchfork and knife wielding pedestrians, but otherwise remained intact.

As you slowly and carefully turned the corner of the church, a figure suddenly appeared in front of you, making you jump in surprise. You quickly raised your dagger in preparation to attack.

“Woah, Señorita! It's only me.” Luis stated, hands up in surrender. You huffed and lowered your blade as you glared at him. An amused smirk appeared on his face as you refrain yourself from smacking the man.

“What the hell is wrong with you? I could have stabbed you! You know how many villagers are crawling around here and attacking me? I was ready to kill you!” You angrily, but quietly as to not draw attention, scolded.

“It wouldn't be the first time a pretty lady made an attempt on my life. Likely wouldn't be the last, either.” His smirk only grew as you rolled your eyes at him, resisting an amused smile of your own.

“Who did you piss off?”

He shrugged, “I was quite the ladies man in my younger days. Women just couldn't get enough of me.”

You went to respond, but a slight rustle of movement from the corner of your eye silenced you immediately. You quickly grabbed Luis's arm and shoved him to the side of the church to hide out of sight around the corner of the wall. He protested, but you shushed him and moved away, raising your pistol as you walked toward the rustling sound, ready to shoot.

You walked to the opposite side of the church to where the movement came from. You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself, then turned the corner to attack. You let out a surprised gasp that turned into a sigh of relief. A light haired wolf startled at your appearance, stared, before finally running off and through the gates of the church.

“It’s just a wolf.” You muttered to yourself as you watched the wild animal leave. You turned and made your way back to where you forced Luis to hide. 

Suddenly, you heard Luis let out a shout that turned into a stream of yelled out Spanish words that you couldn't quite understand, but suspected to be curses. You quickened your pace, but before you could turn the corner of the church you heard him shout in English.

“Don't, Señorita! Too many! Wait until she gets here to find me!”

You slowed your pace and crouched, reaching the end of the wall and peaking around the corner of the church to see just how many villagers there were.

Your eyes widened. He was right. Far too many. At least, too many in one small area for you to fight off. If they were scattered around more, you could have stood a chance. A group of around twenty or so villagers crowded around Luis, muttering angrily in Spanish as Luis vainly attempted to swat and kick to shoo them off. 

They must have been gathering for church. You couldn't understand why so many were here otherwise.

You both briefly made eye contact before he nodded to the side, urging you to hide until the coast was clear. You wanted to help, but you both understood that if you and him got caught together, then things would be that much more difficult for Ada. Neither of you wanted to make this mission take any longer than necessary.

Plus, you could only imagine how Ada would react if you got yourself kidnapped and she had to be away from you longer. You wouldn't call her a clingy girlfriend. More overprotective than anything. If you got caught, you would never live it down. And she would never let you join a mission with her ever again.

So, hide you did. You stayed out of sight of any wandering villager that checked for any more threats to them around the church. They had been far more paranoid tonight. You wondered what had happened to make them act as such.

The group of villagers dragged a cursing Luis off. You sighed and resigned yourself to sitting there somewhat impatiently. You should wait for Ada to appear before continuing on with the mission. You didn't think the villagers were going to kill him. 

Not yet, at least.

[mikeysbride]

We Are Not Going Back

The 2024 U.S. presidential election has been anything but typical or boring, especially in the last month. Once President Joe Biden made the decision to remove himself from the race against Donald Trump in favor of endorsing VP Kamala Harris, everything changed. And it changed for the better if you're a Democrat. I was upset when he first withdrew, feeling that he was basically pushed into it by the media's insistence he is too old to run despite the record he's had as President the last 4 years. But then, within minutes, it seemed, my attitude changed to one of a sense of hope I hadn't felt in a while where the election is concerned. In reality, he made the ultimate selfless decision to put the country's interests above his own, and that is a remarkable quality, especially in a politician. It shows he's the real deal.

It appears I am not alone. The surge of excitement in the Democratic Party surrounding Kamala's nomination, which she'll officially accept this week, has been nothing short of amazing to watch. I have not seen anything like this since President Obama, and that says a lot. Her rallies are breaking attendance records, and even longtime Republicans are pledging to vote for her.

Of course, Kamala has already received the predictable criticism from the Trump cult about everything from her heritage to her laugh. Trump also still refuses to pronounce her name correctly, which is blatantly disrespectful but also typical behavior for him. If Kamala ("comma-la") is too hard for him to pronounce, Madame President will do just fine, I'm sure. But none if this should come as news to anyone. They have nothing else to go on, so of course they resort to the lowest rungs on the ladder when in reality, she has a stellar resume and record having served as a prosecuting attorney, District Attorney, Attorney General, Senator, and now Vice President of the United States. She is an actual prosecutor going up against Trump and his 34 felony convictions, and he's allowed to do that for the highest job in the country even though many jobs won't consider you if you have even 1 felony conviction. It's laughable really; it would be hilarious if it weren't also so sad and ridiculous. You can bet anyone of color would not be allowed the same leniency.

A few days before Kamala became the presumptive nominee, my 16-year-old daughter told me she felt apprehensive about her future if there were to be another Trump presidency. I told her that I feel the same way for myself. I actually feel that way about anyone who isn't a rich, straight white male because those are the only people Donald Trump cares about - those who look and think exactly like he does. But then, Joe passed the torch to Kamala, and it seemed the country awakened to a clearly better alternative and someone even the independents could get behind. Suddenly, there was hope that maybe, just maybe, things would be OK after all. That same daughter then came to me, just a few days after our previous conversation, and told me she is no longer fearful the way she was before. My 14-year-old daughter echoes her feelings, and the both of them have taken a greater interest in the election as a result. My teenage daughters are inspired and can see themselves in Kamala, and that is huge for them and for me.

I don't care who you are; this is historic and a big deal. It takes an incredible amount of privilege to see all this unfolding and not appreciate how significant this is in our history. Not only are we on the verge of having our first female U.S. President, but she's also Black. Not only that, but she's smart, successful, personable, and damn qualified. I can't help but think of my grandparents and how thrilled they would have been to live to see Barack Obama become President and now Kamala Harris. We came so close to a female President with Hillary Clinton in 2016, and I pray the election deniers and complacent people don't mess it up for us this time. I honestly don't think we can survive another Trump presidency and come out the same way ever again. He's already promised to be a dictator on his first day back in office and has alluded to doing away with elections...neither of which we need. And we certainly don't need him. He only wants to be President to avoid jail time, point blank. We can't let that happen.

We have a chance this November to save our democracy and keep moving forward - to make a hopeful future available to everyone and not just the rich, straight white males of the country. We can do this, and I have to believe we will. This is a test we absolutely cannot stand to fail. I understand the assignment. Do you?

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Small Potatoes (4x20)

“Well, what do you want to talk about?” she asked, swirling her wine around in her glass.

Usually, when he did this, Eddie had to tread delicately on a path someone else had already laid before him. Sometimes it was a Herculean task to get to learn little details about the women he was pursuing because it would be stuff their husbands would never ask. 

But this was different. 

It didn’t take him long to realize he’d initially misread the situation when he saw them at the clinic. Based on the look Dana Scully shot him when he tried to hold her hand at the airport, he knew he was navigating territory Fox Mulder had yet to conquer.

It didn’t make any sense to him. Such a good-looking guy, an agent of the Federal Beurow of Investigation, couldn’t get with his hot, nerdy partner? When he was watching them earlier, they seemed so into each other, like they were two people living in their own little world. It was something he usually only saw with couples in love.

“Earlier, you uh- you said you’d be Eleanor Roosevelt if you could be someone else for a day. Why her?” 

“I thought you said it couldn’t be a dead person,” she teased, giving him a pointed look.

He shot her a soft smile. “I want to hear why you chose her though.”

That wasn’t even a lie, he really did. Eddie saw through the window the way Mulder’s face contorted into something akin to revulsion when she answered, presumably in response to the First Lady’s appearance. It was the same expression Amanda had when she talked about him. Yet Dana didn't seem to judge a book by its cover.

“Well,” she started, taking a deep breath. “I think she’s an admirable woman. She has a lot of beautiful qualities that I would love to embody.”

“She continued her husband’s work after he fell ill right? Motivated him to keep going when no one else would, even going so far as to take on some of the load herself despite the criticism she received?” For the first time, he was grateful one of the women from the clinic loved watching the History Channel.

She nodded, seemingly pleased. “They were a great team.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you already embody a lot of the First Lady’s admirable qualities.”

She looked caught off guard by the compliment, but recovered quickly, a dusting of color on her cheeks the only giveaway that his assessment had an effect on her.

“You never answered your own question,” she stated into the hollow round of her wine glass.

“Hmm?”

“Who would you be?”

A small exhale of laughter escaped through his nose before he could catch himself and it didn’t go unnoticed. “What?” she pried.

Eddie raised the glass to his lips and pretended to take a sip to buy time. Who wouldn’t he rather be? He wanted to be someone who was funny, someone smart, someone who was loved — but at the end of the day, he truly did want to be Eddie Van Blundht. He just wished other people would want that too.

Sure, he wasn’t attractive in the conventional sense and maybe he didn’t have a fancy job working at the Federal Beureaw of Investigation, but he wasn’t all bad.

Setting the glass back down, he remembered something he’d seen in Mulder’s apartment and it seemed as good of an answer as any. 

“Elvis,” he answered.

“Elvis?” she deadpanned, her amusement showing itself in a slight grin.

“Have you heard the voice on that man? And his moves?”

“I would just like to state for the record that you also chose a dead person,” she remarked.

He shrugged in mock surrender. “My love for the King goes beyond the grave. But what about you? What type of music are you into?”

“Oh, um,” she paused, contemplating her answer. “I’ve always been a fan of R&B. Dennis Edwards, Stevie Wonder, Al Wilson–”

“What about Al Green?”

“Of course,” she replied with an earnest grin. “I have all his albums.”

“You should put them on!” he encouraged.

“Now?”

“Why not?” he countered, pleased when she nodded her head in acquiescence and got up.

His eyes trailed over her form as she walked across the room and he felt the familiar coil of arousal twist in his gut. This was probably the most beautiful woman he’d spoken to in a long time, and he wanted this to go well.

While she was preoccupied, Eddie took the opportunity and leaned over to top up her wine, pretending to do the same to his untouched glass. It’s not that he wanted the women to be drunk by the time he made a move, he just found that it helped blur the lines between how they expected their husbands to be and what he would do for them. They were less likely to question why their husband's kiss felt different or why he was trying something new. It was just better this way.

He grimaced as droplets of wine fell onto the papers scattering the coffee table, and he looked back to make sure she was still preoccupied before snagging a couple of tissues and blotting the liquid. 

His attention was drawn to a legal pad sitting amongst the papers. In delicate, feminine scrawl, he made out the words “Doctor Appointment - Thursday at 8:30.” His confusion only deepened when he leaned over to throw the tissues in the waste bin and saw a few others stained a different shade of red. She didn’t look sick, but then again he knew better than anyone looks could be deceiving.

He quickly moved back into place when Al Green’s voice filled the room. “I haven’t played music like this in so long,” she admitted, walking back to him with a shy expression.

Suddenly he realized this might be easier than he thought. Maybe she needed this as much as he did.

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own!

@gaycrouton

[milaisbored]

Between Blades of Sweetgrass-Chapter 1

a/n: this is my first chapter ever written so PLS PLS PLS give feedback it would be greatly appreciated. hope you enjoy!!

tw: all themes discussed in true detective s1, but heavy on alcohol abuse.

........

Lucia tapped the edge of her ballpoint pen against her notepad, the soft thump barely audible through the bumbling noise of the office. She was staring at her paperwork, struggling to find the proper wording to finish the report from her most recent case. Cops bustled around her, answering calls from their desks, speaking lowly with one another over cold coffee held in flimsy paper cups. 

She was working on a homicide, the kind of case she could tell was open and shut from the moment the file had landed on her desk. A woman, found on the floor of her apartment, two gunshot wounds to her head, the scene almost reminiscent of an execution. It had taken Lucia and her partner, Andy, only a few rounds of questioning and some brief background checks to stumble across her recently divorced, and notably violent ex-husband. 

He was a military veteran, hence the precision of the wounds, and had lost custody of their children, something which the court files seemed to express was a point of great friction between the two. Less than an hour in the box and Lucia had him singing like a bird. It was almost too easy. 

Open and shut. 

Now, Lucia was just finishing the details of the evidence logs before she could give the documents to the state prosecutor. She’d likely not have to appear in court because of his admission to the crime, just give the necessary papers over and continue on with her life. The woman would be buried, and so would her file, lost amongst a sea of manilla folders piling in the records department. 

“Flint-” her partner said, interrupting her train of thought, “Captain wants to see us in his office now.”.

Lucia looked up from her desk, her pen suspended in the air between her fingers. 

“I’m almost done with this Andy.” she gestured to her papers, “Tell him I’ll be right in.”.

Scribbling down the last sentences of her report, Lucia stood up from her chair, walking towards her captain's office. 

The room was large and airy, a light wood paneling spanning up and down the walls, covered in a variety of accolades and certifications. Lucia’s captain, Ken Quesada, was sitting in his leather padded rolly chair, the nicest in the office,  swiveling from the side to face Lucia as she entered through the door. She pulled out one of the cheap chairs from in front of his desk, sitting herself down next to Andy and draping her right leg over her left. 

“Bowman, Flint; you got the Bennet case all wrapped up?” he asked, glancing between the two of them. 

Lucia straightened her back against the seat.

“Yes sir, I finished the last of the paperwork just now. I’ll make sure to send it over to the DA’s office before I leave today.”.

“Good, that’s some nice work from y’all.” he praised, quirking his mouth into a slight smile. 

Lucia felt a rush of satisfaction run through her body from the praise; the captain didn’t often give out compliments like that. Quesada was a straight-laced, no business type of captain with an equally by-the-books appearance. He had gray hair that spanned around the base of his head, with a bald patch that had a few strands whitening around the roots. His face was worn, deep wrinkle lines etched across his face, a result of his age as well as stress; the job had a knack for wearing people down. 

“Good timin’ too, Bowman’s gonna leave this place a free man.” he puffed jovially, leaning back in his chair, “You go relax now Andy, enjoy your last few hours ‘round here. Just make sure your desk is packed up, okay?”. 

“Got it.” Andy responded, pushing back his chair as he stood up, peering back at Lucia as he exited. 

Andy had been the first person she had met at the Louisiana CID, welcoming her immediately into the office. He was quite a lot older than she was, a fatherlike quality to him that turned his gruffness into something a bit more inviting, making him a person Lucia felt not only comfortable, but enjoyed working with. She was unsure how things would be once he was gone, in well, less than two hours. 

After hearing the door close with a soft click, Quesada returned his eyes to Lucia, giving her a quick appraisal. 

“Look Flint, you’ve done some great work here so far, and are workin’ pretty well with the boys. But with Bowman gone…” he paused, wincing slightly before continuing, “Well, I don’t really know where to put you.”.

Lucia exhaled nervously, her crossed foot beginning to bounce against her leg. There were many guys in the department who worked solo, some good, and others who bordered on incompetent. She prayed to herself she wouldn’t get stuck with a dud, she didn’t know if she had the strength to deal with that.  

“Think I’m gonna keep you as a floater.”.

“Floater?”. She quirked her eyebrow, unfamiliar with the term. 

“Mhm. '' he nodded his head, “To help out with casework for some of the guys when they need it.”. He said it as though it were completely self-explanatory. “As you know, we’re pretty understaffed ‘round here, and well, you could help relieve some of the stress.”.

Lucia's eyes widened slightly at the proposition, before narrowing as she realized what he was truly expecting of her. She was being asked to take others’ scrap work, do the stuff no one else felt inclined to do. She clenched her fists on the arms of the chair, nails pressing roughly into her skin. 

“And if a big one comes in, you’ll work with a detective or two to help manage the workload I s’pose. How does that sound?” he finished, looking at her to gauge her reaction. 

It seemed less like a question and more like a confirmation that she wasn’t going to fight him on the decision. 

Lucia’s face remained entirely neutral, forcing her mouth to press into a flat line. She had worked so hard to get to her position as a lead detective in homicide, and he was going to just take that away, simply because her partner was a goddamn retiree? 

She took a deep inhale, letting herself feel the anger bubble inside of her before breathing it all out into the now oppressively stuffy office air. Her hands released from their clenched position, half-moon indents scattered across her smooth palms. 

“Sounds good sir, thank you.” Lucia responded, straining to make her voice  appreciative. 

Her words sounded artificial, like she was some corporate salesman, vigorously trying to sell someone a car they didn’t need to reach their daily quota. Lucia hoped he didn’t notice. 

“Great.” Quesada looked at her, before swiftly turning around to flutter through his filing cabinets, papers crinkling as he searched it. 

Taking his silence and now diverted attention as her queue to leave, Lucia exited the office, trying her hardest not to slam the door behind her on the way out. 

Asshole, she thought to herself, looking around at the rest of the detectives who were littered around the office, each continuing on their days as usual. No one had seen or heard what had happened in the office, however Lucia couldn’t stop the intense rush of blood to her cheeks, reddening in humiliation and anger. She had walked into that office expecting a promotion or some kind of step up in responsibility, but had walked out with little more than calloused palms and a position that was embarrassingly meritless. 

When Lucia returned to her desk, Andy’s eyes trained on her, watching her carefully as she hastily began to shut the vast array of files cluttering the surface. Each one she closed only reminded her more of all the work she had been doing for the department, forms meticulously organized and thoroughly completed in her loopy handwriting. 

Andy continued to examine her, a concerned expression blooming across his tanned face. Lucia couldn’t meet his eyes, worried the water pooling in the wells of her eyes would pour out onto the papers below. She refused to draw attention to herself, biting the inside of her cheek aggressively to prevent the flow of her tears. 

The next two hours, Lucia and Andy worked on the last of their casework together, organizing forms and evidence into neat piles on the borders of their desks. All she could think of as she scrawled in the black boxes of her forms was how she had ended up in this position. Neither of the two detectives spoke, the events of the day hanging heavily in the air, a mutual agreement to not address the captain’s ruling. 

Andy didn’t need to ask Lucia what the captain said, they both knew what happened in that office: a demotion. 

She was grateful for his silence. 

………

Lucia was now sipping on a glass of whiskey, cold cubes of ice bobbing in the center of the golden liquid. She was tired, her eyes twitching every few minutes, begging her to just drive home and flop into her warm, cozy bed. 

She was at a bar, some sort of country get-up that she had been to once or twice before, on the rare occasion she was invited to after-work drinks. Resting in the seat of a long cherry-wood table, Lucia coddled her drink in her lap, allowing the chilled condensation to drip onto her pants. 

Since she had received the news from her captain, Lucia decided that she would need one, or possibly five drinks to dull her mind's racing. She would drink a whole bottle if it meant the day would fade away into the distance of her subconscious memory, hazy and unfocused. 

A floater. Even the word left a foul taste in her mouth. 

It was almost funny how easy it was for Lucia to throw away her attempts at going clean when things got hard. She had barely lasted a week, and now here she was, hoofing back whiskey like it was water. 

It didn't help her efforts to lighten her spirits that surrounding her were almost all of her work colleagues, yelling and laughing rowdily without regard for anyone else residing in the bar for the night. They were all there for Andy’s retirement party, something which Lucia wouldn’t have minded to attend as much if the good news didn’t also prelude irrevocably negative consequences for her career. 

“So Andy, you got any big plans for your first day off the job?” she slurred, a feeble attempt to veer herself away from more sulking. He was nursing a beer of his own, though evidently more sober than most of the cops around them.

“Nope.” he replied, popping the ‘p’ sound in his mouth, “I’m gonna sleep in, and have a nice cup of fresh coffee in my bed, catch up on some reading I s’pose.”.

“Coffee in bed; Bowman you’re one lucky bastard.”.

He gave Lucia a wistful look. “This’ll be you Flint, don’t wish for it all too soon. Before you know it you’ll be pushin’ sixty and wondering when the hell your skin started sagging away”. 

Lucia panned around the table, eyes passing over her coworkers who each were intoxicated to varying degrees. Some of the men were sipping their drinks slowly, surely playing the facade of a good, responsible detective, while others relished the opportunity to return to debauchery, chugging one drink after the next. It was difficult to watch them all, cheering and hollering as each round of drinks arrived at the table, shooting back beers and bourbon without a care in the world. 

“Bowman, heard you solved that Bennet murder. What’s that, three in your last month?”. Marty's voice startled Lucia out of her haze, his praise for Andy catching her attention.

A lighthearted man with an equally warm complexion, Marty had the sort of Louisiana charm she had come to expect from a lot of men around the area. He had golden hair that shone in any weather, a cheap grin, and slight twang in his voice that made everything he said sound friendlier than intended. 

“Yeah, well I couldn’t have done it without Flint here.” Andy nudged Lucia with his cold glass, “She got the confession out of that sucker without breakin’ a sweat.”. 

She gave him a small smile, appreciative of the recognition. Marty looked at her for a moment, raising his eyebrows slightly with a grin, his eyes glimmering with artificial warmth. 

“Ah, well yall’re a great team, shame he’s leavin’. Hey, being a floater ain’t too bad now.” he said, tone callous as he picked up his beer, taking a grotesquely large mouthful. Lucia’s eyes sharpened subtly at the remark, the casualty of his tone intensifying her irritation. Of course Marty knew about her new job title, everyone probably had been made aware by now. News traveled fast around the department, not even the sleek wood walling of the captain's office preventing her reduced position from being the talk of her colleagues. 

It still stung her though, to be reminded once again of her own disposability.

Lucia swiftly corrected her eyes and nodded in agreement, “It is, don’t know what I’m going to do without him.”.

The clinking of a glass rang out in the bar, drawing the attention of the detectives at the table. Lucia turned away from Geraci, to the center of the table where Detective Geraci was holding a spoon to his cup. 

“To Andy,” Geraci raised his glass, “the best goddamn detective I’ve ever worked with.”. 

The other men around the table brought their drinks up in unison, cheering for their colleague before taking large gulps of their liquor. Andy smiled, lifting his glass and pointing gently  towards Lucia.

“Thank you guys, for allowin’ me to retire in peace. I promise to play lot’s of golf, and sit on my ass as much as possible.” he finished, the table erupting in deep chuckles and here here’s. 

Lucia took a long sip of her whiskey to this, letting the smooth liquid burn as it slid down her throat. She was happy for Andy, she truly was. He was a nice man, and had been the only friendly face in the office for months, something which she appreciated more than he knew. Even she could admit it was isolating, being the only woman in the department. Apart from the secretary Cathleen, and the occasional prosecutor who dropped by, female companionship was something Lucia was not often privy to, a fact which made her companionship with Andy all the more comforting. 

Chucking the last of her drink down with a grand swig, Lucia stood up from the table, desperate to distance herself from all of the cheerfulness. She was in the mood to wallow, and being around the bunch of drunken middle-aged cops was not her idea of a good time. As she neared the bar, she could see the hunched over figure of another detective, waiting as the bartender scurried behind the counter to pour his beer. She observed the man for a moment while he sat in front of the bar, barely moving a muscle despite the frenzied atmosphere around him. 

Rust Cohle.

Lucia didn’t know him all too well; he was Marty’s partner, and seemed to be somewhat of a recluse within the office, almost participating in fewer work gatherings than her. His light brown hair shone golden from the overhead lighting of the bar, almost making him look like a spirit, a soft aura floating around him. 

Lucia reached the bar counter, leaning herself slightly over the counter beside the still man. The bartender noticed her arrival, and made his way over to her with a smile. He was older, at least older than Lucia, and had a big beard that cascaded almost past his shoulders, curling at the ends. He had a towel flipped over his shoulder, laying delicately on the white and blue plaid shirt he wore.

“Now what can I get for you miss?” he asked her amicably, hands resting on his hips. 

Lucia didn’t even have to think about it.

“Another whiskey please-on the rocks. Heaven Hill if you still have it.” she returned, sliding her glass along the counter towards the bartender's hand. “Actually make that two.”.

“Yes ma'am.” he said, picking up her glass and stepping away from the counter to retrieve the liquor bottle from one of the higher shelves. 

Lucia tilted her head down towards the marble wood surface, a quick sigh escaping her lips. She was exhausted, frustrated, and in desperate need of a cigarette. She was heavily regretting her less than a week stint of trying to go cold-turkey; she had flushed all her packs down the toilet. She would have to stop for some on the way home. 

“You normally drink this much on a work night?” a voice drawled from beside her, causing her to turn her head in surprise towards the speaker. 

Rust was tall, though it was hard to tell as he sat with his back curved over the counter top, sharp features etched deeply into his face. There was a sense of hardness in his appearance that preceded him even before he opened his mouth. 

“Depends on whether I’m celebrating or not.” she replied, threading a piece of her hair between her fingers, letting the strands glide along her skin. 

“And what’re you doing right now?”. He wasn’t looking at her, instead staring into the distance behind her, his eyes denying to make contact with hers. 

Lucia thought about the question for a moment, his words echoing in her head. She had drunk a lot, more than she had in the past few weeks combined, with her semi-consistent sobriety streak and fruitless endeavors into self-improvement. All while her coworkers cheered over their stable, nuclear lives and got drunk over rounds of cheap, flavorless beer.

“Trying to forget.” she answered coolly. 

As she said this, the bartender returned with her drinks, placing them in front of her on the counter. Lucia said a quick thank you to him, immediately sipping more of the velvety alcohol, letting it rest in her mouth, relishing in the richness of it. Swallowing the large sip, Lucia took one last glance at Cohle, her eyes tracing up his toned, ragged figure, stopping at his eyes.  

He finally looked at her, his pupils dilated, the only sign of his intoxication apart from the beer loosely held in his hands. His eyes were intense, a silvery blue that bore straight into Lucia’s sole, daring her to keep looking as she was. She felt a shiver run down her spine, warning her, urging her to avert her eyes from his, but her mind refused to back down from the challenge. 

He looked at her curiously, as if her cryptic response had surprised him a bit. She wasn’t sure why, Lucia assumed Marty and all of her other colleagues had become aware of her new work position, though none but the former had dared to bring it up to her face.

Deciding the quiet lingering between them was arguably more unsettling than the group table, Lucia pushed herself off the counter with her hands, grabbing her two drinks. She turned away from Cohle and his inquisitive gaze, striding back towards the table where most of the detectives were still sitting and chatting loudly. As she returned to her seat amongst the others, she could hear Marty starting to share an anecdote about some woman he had dated back in his high school years. His voice rang in Lucia’s ears, details of awkward sex and comically exaggerated arguments filling the air around her. 

She tuned his voice out, her eyes moving helplessly across the bar to Cohle again, who was still sitting down, back towards her, now talking to another detective. He had barely sat at the table since they had arrived, though she couldn’t blame him for his disinterest in the festivity around her. It could be dull to listen to different renditions of the same stories, each one leading to the same point of humor. 

It was all quite exhausting. 

A thunderous round of laughter shook Lucia out of her alcohol induced daze, her head pounding from the sudden noise. Though she didn’t know what Marty could have possibly said to make them laugh so hard, Lucia split her mouth into a grin, heaving her chest to imitate the deep bellied chuckle of amusement she had perfected over time. As she sat there, eyes crinkled in perfectly replicated contentedness, she wondered whether this is how people would remember her. 

Would they refer to their own memories of Lucia, when she revealed her gleaming teeth for a picturesque smile and a starkly normal giggle, and say how much they loved her? So much of her time in the CID she had pretended; to love room temperature beer and ball games and sex jokes that always bordered on being too far for her comfort. Maybe in a way, she had become that person to her colleagues. Lucia’s mother had always reminded her that getting ahead in life meant being able to understand the individual expectations people had for her, and by result, how to use them to her advantage. She would chastise Lucia after she bombed her first job interview, and again after she failed to get a call after her first date, the same phrase each time.

“No person wants true honesty, they want the illusion of who they think you truly are.”. 

She hadn’t really understood what her mother had meant until now. 

When the laughter faded into the vacantly musty air of the bar, Lucia closed her mouth too, expression returning to neutrality, muscles slack from the alcohol. 

“Flint?” Andy’s voice snapped Lucia out of her daze. 

“Yeah?”. Her voice was croaky and uneven, tainted by the hours she had been drinking. She wondered if she looked as disheveled as she felt. Her first drink was empty now, the second a quarter full. 

A look of concern fell over his face, "You okay?”.

The question was simple enough, however when Lucia reached her hand up to brush her hair out of the way she was greeted with droplets of water pooling at the crevices of her eyes. She bit back her tears, forcing her face into neutrality. 

“I’ll be fine.”. She just needed to get out of here, to be away from the claustrophobic atmosphere of the bar, and the other detectives, who were now obnoxiously singing along to old Willy Nelson songs. “I better get going, work tomorrow and all.” she excused herself, standing up in her chair abruptly. She picked up her keys, taking a final sip of her drink.

Before leaving the table, Lucia paused for a moment, resting her hand lightly on Andy’s shoulder before looking at him once more. 

“You have a nice night Andy.”. 

Andy didn’t respond, simply patting her hand lightly with two taps, before letting Lucia remove it from his arm, an affectionate smile blooming across his face. 

“Bowman! Geraci thinks he can be you in pool, you gonna fight him on that?” another voice interjected, Andy returning his focus to the men in front of him.

Lucia made her way outside the dimly-lit bar, trying her best to keep steady on her feet. When she opened the door of the bar to the Louisiana night sky, a rush of warm sticky air ran over her, goosebumps forming along her skin. Her head was fuzzy, muscles loosening with each step she took into the gravel covered parking lot. 

This reminded her of the time in eleventh grade when Lucia had gotten so miserably drunk at a friends party that she decided to try and crawl home, legs refusing to perform a walking motion. For what felt like eternity, Lucia scratched her hands along rough, stony roads, willing her body to keep moving. Her brother had found her, straggling on the side of a street like an injured buck, and drove her home to her very unhappy parents. 

The drive to her home was quiet, a welcome intervention from the noisiness of the bar, giving Lucia’s head a moment to recenter itself and deliberate whether she was going to stop by the corner store on the way home. The lights along the highway melted into one another, creating strings of white along the dark skyline. 

The decision making didn’t last too long, and ten minutes later, Lucia was buying herself a pack of Camels and a fluorescent pink lighter at the convenience store counter, barely stumbling out the door before placing the cigarette in her mouth and holding up a shaky flame to it.

Inhaling severely, Lucia felt the smoke enter into her mouth, the bitter taste filling her lungs before puffing it out with a great sigh. 

God I missed this, she tilted her head back in satisfaction.

She was drunk, her head light and airy upon her shoulders. Tapping her foot gently against the concrete ground, Lucia thought about New York, the apartment she used to call home, her old friends, the job she had loved, and all else that she had left behind for Louisiana. She had moved from the city back to Louisiana a few months earlier.  It had been worth it at the time; duty calls, and so did a mother bed-ridden with a cancer so insidious it had crept its way all the way down to her pancreas. She never had a chance against the disease. 

Lucia remembered standing in a brown, rusting phone booth outside of her old office, tears streaming down her face as they told her the diagnosis. Stage four, she only had a few weeks to live. Lucia had hung up before they could tell her how sorry they were for her loss.

As she stood outside the store smoking, Lucia’s body itched for more alcohol, a need for release spreading throughout her body. When she hobbled back into her car, she pulled out an unopened bottle of gin from the passenger compartment, wrapped in a sparkly silver film. It had been a gift from the people in the apartment neighboring her own, housewarming they had told her happily. 

Lucia opened the cap with a firm snap, bringing the bottle up to her lips roughly and letting the clear liquid flow along her tongue, swallowing it with a gulp. She felt the warmth of the gin invade her senses, everything becoming softer, more fluid. 

She got restless with alcohol, a desire to do something that she’d probably regret in the morning becoming more appealing by each sip of the gin she took. 

She turned the keys in the ignition, the engine growling to a start. The last thing Lucia remembered was the harsh glow of neon lights in the distance, rays of fuchsia beaming into the barren black sky.

[all-things-normaler]

Can you give us more of your Norma/Normaler headcanons? Theyre fun ♡

Aw man, these couple of days have been low on me, so I've been a little dry in a general aspect, but we'll see.

The Onceler likes to surprise Norma with random tunes, thus he starts to do his very best to learn what are Norma's favorite songs for him to play to her! Oftentimes he asks her cautiously to not have suspicions, but after a while of doing it repeatedly successfully surprising the girl, Norma figured out on her own his strategy. Still! That doesn't mean she doesn't like it!

Can't put my finger on why, but those two seem to be the type to roll over hills and play with kites and that be their idea of a date.

This is my Norma and I apply the same qualities I have on her. Norma suffers of strawberry legs. They're dots that appear sometimes on your legs, thighs, buttocks, etc. Norma has them on her thighs and they look like freckles in a way! She hates them, but Onceler finds them endearing and compares them to his own freckles!

Norma misses Onceler's freckles when the winter comes. In case you didn't know, freckles tend to appear the most in higher heat temperatures!

Despite the clumsy appearance, The Onceler has had a lengthy record of injuries back at the barn and in his previous job. Therefore he knows how to treat them rather good on his own. He once used a thneed to help Norma with a nasty bruise with a lot of things in his med kit and he wrapped it around her leg like a gauze!

People who knew Helen would never believe that she grew up from parents that had not the best care for hygiene. Onceler was a farm boy, Norma was always falling and tripping on the ground. He was dirty from pastry flour, she was accidentally with hamburger grease stains on her uniform's skirt. Helen grew up in a restrictively clean environment than these two did (but of course, Normaler's had actual air.) ending up in a woman with a extreme dislike for stains and dirt.

Norma didn't give birth to her child alone. She was surrounded by friends. Normaler's relationship got so BAD by the end of Onceler's career that they were distanced enough for people to doubt their unity together. Norma decided to lie that they broke up years ago for the greater good of her daughter. Norma didn't want for Helen to go through undeserved judgement from lousy decisions of her father. But allegations were always there by the end of the day.

Onceler always wanted to be a father in a way to honor his own. We know how this ends.

Norma never wanted to repeat the same steps of her mother. Being a single mother with her child, but here she was, using the same lies her mother used to tell her about her father now to Helen.

Call it genetic trauma from Onceler, but Helen has a ridiculous distaste for tomatoes! Even if her idea of tomatoes were a gelatinous thing, just hearing the word alone made her gag.

[fraeuleintaka]

New English voice clips in the Investigations Collection

This is the 70th post in the Ace Attorney Investigations Collection Countdown: 11 days left until release!

Today's topic: all the new English voice clips in the Investigations Collection!

[MASSIVE spoilers for Investigations 2 in the video and under the cut]

Similar to all the remaining official English names people also got a hold of the new English voice clips for the characters. This mostly includes the I2 characters, of course, but one character from I1, Calisto Yew, also received a new voice clip. The fandom has been criticizing the quality of her "Objection!" for years, and I agree that it definitely sounds off compared to the quality of the others, but I still wouldn't have expected them to go to the effort of re-recording it so this is a nice surprise. As for the other characters, the fan translation did a truly amazing job with voicing them despite their limited means being entirely driven by passion for the game so it's going to be hard for the official localisation to beat them despite their higher professional production value. Since I already talked about Justine's (Verity's) new voice in a previous countdown post she isn't included in the list and all the other I1 characters keep their old voice clips unsurprisingly. (Shi-Long's is still one of my favourites.)

Sebastian Debeste (Eustace Winner): Like his name I absolutely adore Sebastian's "Objection!" in the fan translation. It's haughty, it's pretentious and it's high-pitched in a way that fits him perfectly. You can hear he's trying hard to come across as competent and imposing but it just as obviously doesn't work. His official voice is maybe a little bit deeper but not by much so I still think it suits him really well, it sounds as young as he should be. It doesn't sound nearly as pretentious as his fan one (though it has some of it), losing some of its personality you could argue and on one hand I agree. That's one of the major reasons why I find his voice in the fan translation so charming. On the other hand, if they ever wanted to have him appear in a later game after his fantastic character arc Investigations 3 with Sebastian and Miles as duo protagonists when, they wouldn't be able to keep the voice clip the same if it did sound as pretentious and I'd argue that it might already make the confrontation in court a tiny little bit more epic. (Maybe hopefully compensating a little for the less epic name?) So both voices have their advantages and I honestly love both, they're both amazing.

Blaise Debeste (Excelsius Winner): As might have been expected Blaise loses his demon voice that he had in the fan translation. His official voice is still authoritative and commanding but it doesn't even match von Karma's "Objection!" in scariness-factor which I'm sad about because Blaise is arguably far worse and should have a similarly scary "Objection!". I like its almost military-like clearness, it does fit his general vibe, so it's still a good voice clip for him but I honestly prefer his fan voice. That deep demonic sound is so full of personality and fits him perfectly and in comparison his official voice sounds far less unique. It could fit any authoritative figure. Maybe they wanted it to sound less evil on the surface because Blaise has this kind of playful attitude but even then I'd argue that he's so obviously not nice that it's a better move to match his voice clip to how scary he can be when he gets serious which his fan voice does amazingly.

Raymond Shields (Eddie Fender): I'm honestly shocked by how similar Ray's two voices sound. They're both very casual and he almost mumbles a little in both which fits his laid-back attitude well. His fan voice is deeper but his official one isn't too high either so I don't mind that. The sound quality of the official one is obviously clearer and better so in that regard it sounds better as well but disregarding that I'd say both are about equal for me.

Gregory Edgeworth: Gregory's fan voice is significantly deeper than his official one and that's also my biggest issue with the latter. Admittedly, his fan voice sounds strangely choked and the sound quality is meh too but his new one is just way too high. I can accept the "Hold it!", "Take that!" and "Eureka!", those are fine, I like them, but his "Objection!" sounds far too young for a man who's mostly defined as being the father and the mentor of two of the main characters. Sure, he's still in his thirties when he dies so he is still young but he should sound mature enough to be a somewhat wise mentor and father figure (as that is how Miles and Ray see him) and not like he just walked out of college. Therefore, despite its issues I still prefer Gregory's fan voice over his official one. I'm honestly not sure what they were thinking with it.

Horace Knightley (Bronco Knight): Knightley sounds extremely different in both versions. His fan voice is very casual and confident to the point of overconfident which fits his general attitude and defining character trait (thinking himself better than he is and underappreciated for it) really well. His official voice is also confident but in a different way, it's slower, more serious and has a clearer pronunciation. The latter definitely fits better with what you'd expect from a bodyguard of a president and it's not like he doesn't take his job seriously, he just seriously thinks he could do everything better than the others. Honestly, I can see both character interpretations really well, the casual cocky attitude and the more serious overconfidence. It will likely depend on how Knightley's written in the official localisation; in the fan translation he also talked in a really cocky way so his voice clip fit that to a T; but if his official localisation gives him a more serious attitude, his new voice clip would reflect that better.

Calisto Yew: There's surprisingly not much to say about Yew's new voice clip. It's a very similar kind of "Objection!" to her old one but with a much clearer audio and without that strange warped mumbling. It's basically a direct improvement without changing the interpretation of the character at all so there's no argument to be made about which of the two sounds obviously better.

Now I only need to find a way to get the German voice clips for the collection so I can talk about them as well...

Simon Keyes (Simeon Saint): Simon's two voices are, again, surprisingly similar. Both sound very confident and self-assured, with good reason. His fan voice is a bit more arrogant although without being pretentious, it's just the unapologetic kind of confidence you have when you know you're brilliant and can back up everything you say. Meanwhile, his official voice sounds more relaxed and nonchalant like nothing can faze him and your contradiction is almost too obvious to have to point it out, it's almost a little playful in a way. I really like both interpretations, they're both fitting for different reasons. Simon is arrogant but he's not as defined by it as other major AA villains, he is nonchalant and almost playful for a good part of the confrontation manipulating Miles and Co. and making fun of them but then he also takes the actual subject matter, his revenge and his justification, extremely seriously. I honestly can't decide between the two, they're both great voice clips for the best antagonist in the series.

[legion1227]

Scrubs Review

The fall-off was such a shame.

For the record, I watched the first four seasons in 2022, but in 2023, I watched the remainder. So this is mostly focused on seasons 5-8. Season 9 is essentially a spin-off that I had no interest in revisiting.

I first watched the entirety of Scrubs well over ten years ago, back when it was still on Netflix. At the time, as a pre-teen, I thought it was one of the most hilarious shows with iconic characters.

My opinion has changed for the most part. It's a humorous show with some truly funny moments, but I don't find it that funny anymore. The show feels carried immensely by stellar character work, but the jokes themselves don't do much for me. It elicited a fair amount of chuckles, but I don't think it's outrageously hilarious, gut-busting, or in any sense of the word. Scrubs has a good cast who have great chemistry with one another and some decent gags or jokes throughout, and the show falls off a little after season 5.

If you don't know, Scrubs was a sitcom that aired from 2001-2010, originally airing on NBC for the first seven seasons before switching to ABC for the last two. For multiple years, it followed Zach Braff as JD navigated his job at a hospital. With its first season, JD's comedic ventures with his surgeon best friend Turk, on again off again girlfriend and fellow doctor Elliot, were delightful to follow for about five seasons. With season six, the storylines explored with the characters, as well as their fellow peers and superiors, felt stale. Still, most characters were likable enough to provide a fun time throughout the show's run. JD's romantic escapade with a character not named Elliot started off engaging, but I don't like how their relationship ended as she ended up hiding and lying to him about her pregnancy. Fellow main cast member Dr. Cox, who I considered a favorite during my first watch of the show, also felt stale with his same schtick. His character is a sarcastic ass whose jokes consist of going on long tangents that demean whomever he speaks to, and that was enjoyable for literally five seasons. Then there's another main cast member, The Janitor. Referred to as the Janitor because no one ever figured out his real name, and it's never revealed, The Janitor is an oddball who revels in pranking JD and being generally weird.

He's okay. He's got some funny one-liners from time to time, but I don't find him that funny. Honestly, that's how I would describe the whole cast and their comedic chops. Except for Sam Lloyd. Sam Lloyd played a depressing and poor-quality lawyer named Ted. He was my favorite character. Ted has the best lines and is the best character in the show. It's a shame he was merely a supporting character and not a part of the main cast, but that makes his appearances all the more endearing. Rest in peace to a GOAT.

The last two seasons are especially hurt in quality because they ran during the 2007-2008 writers' strike. My support goes to the writers part of the WGA wholeheartedly because, without talented writers at the helm, you get lopsided or decreasing quality of TV shows. Season 7 lacked as many episodes as the previous seasons, season 8 episodes aired out of order, telling a story that made little sense on a week-to-week basis, and the entire cast lacked substantial character development. There are still a handful of good episodes within the last few seasons, but they are notably poorer in quality than the first five.

Here are my final thoughts. If you haven't seen Scrubs before, I would recommend watching the first three episodes. If you like what you see, continue going forward. The first five seasons are a legitimately enticing bit of storytelling that fits for comfort watching as these goofy or quirky doctors go about their day-to-day. It has some comedic jokes, and maybe you'll find it funnier than me. The best thing about the show for those five years is the stories they tell, the characterizations, performances, and overall arcs and acting. But there is a dip in quality after season 5, be aware. And tread lightly if you want to risk watching season 9. From what I remember from my first watch, it was intended to be a spinoff of the first eight seasons, half the original cast is gone, and the newcomers kinda suck. If anything, just stop after season 8.

Overall, seasons 1-5 of Scrubs are a 4/5. Seasons 6-8 are 3.5/5.

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary449

12/16-17/24

monday - tuesday

going to read i think...

i prepared chicken today, also, happy about that. hungry right now but whatever. my sleep is super fucked up, as well. i've also been listening to a ton of oomori seiko today, i watched this live video of her:

i love her presence, i love how she throws her voice around, it is so cool and emotive and moves me so much, right now, i really really really really like it... wow, whoa, i'm so so so so so late to it too. i listened to all of her zettai shoujo record, and loved it, full of really good songs, i found this one very special:

such a special messy thing...

umm, oh, here, the selfies from the 15th:

very lazy outfit i suppose... very lazy me too, since the mirror has gone uncleaned. i need to clean tomorrow. i'm #crazy i guess i feel like i have too much to do every day, it feels like making sure i eat is a job now too? maybe that's bad.

oh here's a quote i neglected to post from the violent bear it away last time i did that, just opening the book now and seeing this:

"the prophet i raise up out of this boy will burn your eyes clean. the sentence was like a challenge renewed."

anyway, before i read, i want to say i watched the 1960 film jigoku today, and it had a lot of the bizarre sexual politics i think i've been talking about here recently, though not with as much to complicate or maybe arrest me so deeply as horrors of malformed men, that's not say i didn't still love it beyond that horrific aspect which seems to go uninterrogated in the text, or maybe it is a little, but mostly it seems reside mostly in the realm of the buddhist vision of things, not to say it sides with anything at all, it feels critical of that vision maybe, but it's mostly about having the vision at all, feeling cursed, i guess that's the primary thing, everything feels pointless and cursed, running from fate, for why, who knows, punished by enma, judged, returned from pain to experience it again, over and over, the wheel of karma appearing at the end, trapped by desire, maybe, but in that thinking, you know, there is some transcendence possible still, a second birth, a way to save oneself, but it's a beautiful film, despite what feels false to me, that second birth and transcendent notion, or maybe it isn't convinced of that, its position, if any is taken, on buddhism, feels blurry, that's probably intentional. but primarily it's about the unfolding of images at the end, the grimness, how lurid and nightmarish it is, here's some of the images of this film:

there's some thoughts coming to me now, about the images, nothing super complex i guess, just that the film desires your confusion, its editing is weird, the fades happen weird, what you think are fades aren't really, the scenes shift in lighting, even before hell appears, everything is a dream already, it feels sealed, i thought maybe the protagonist was living through hell and reliving his sins eternally, which wasn't how imagined it, but really it was this sense that he'd been thrown down a path, that was being articulated there. there is no way out, in buddhist thinking there is a way out of the punishment, your karma is righted, something like that at least, i'm not sure though, there's a really great sequence, of two parties, both doomed, as the film cuts between the two, this celebration without knowledge of the fate that you sense, given the grimness of everything before, the curious weight and this jubilation seems to be directed at that fate almost, celebrating their burning and tortures, meeting that reality with a kind of equal energy, a lust for everything, even terrible parts, so there is this odd decadent quality to the film, which is where its poetry and beauty comes from, for instance the man being tortured and totally flayed, his organs out, the woman with her head removed from her torso, those are beautiful images, there's a circus-freak aspect to the whole hell sequence which brought to mind wang saen suk's hell garden, which felt very interesting, in a way it feels like a furthering of those visions, or an altered way of seeing them.

reading now, quotes follow below:

"rayber felt that once he could look the child in the eye, he would have confidence in his ability to resist the morbid impulse to baptize him."

"the boy's eyes narrowed so that the lake must have been reduced to the width of a knife-blade in his sight."

"that there kind," she said, looking at him fiercely as if he had profaned the holy."

"she had intended to say, "whose boy are you?" but she said nothing, her mouth opening on a vanished sentence. his eyes as they turned and looked down at her were the color of the lake just before dark when the last daylight has faded and the moon has not risen yet and just for an instant she thought she saw something fleeting across the surface of them, a lost light that came from nowhere and vanished into nothing. for some moments they stared at each other without issue. finally, convinced she had not seen it, she muttered, "whatever devil's work you mean to do, don't do it here." he continued to look down at her. "you can't just say no," he said. "you got to do no. you got to show it. you got to show you mean it by doing it. you got to show you're not going to do one thing by doing another. you got to make an end of it. one way or another." "don't you do nothing here," she said, wondering what he would do here."

short chapter today and not so much i feel i need to quote, lots of great little nuggets in the writing, as always, i am quite taken with the passage where his eyes squint and he must be seeing the lake as the width of a knife's blade. and i really love the section where he says you have to "do no," i really love that, i feel it deeply, the violent refusal, the act of denial an affirmation, instead of stillness, an activity to equal something, i also love the "don't do nothing here," as it's kind of a beautiful and oddly poetic response to someone saying they must do no. and him compelling her to refuse his action, to refuse his devil's work, it's so interesting. i also love the description of his eyes as that super dark twilight, where a light from nowhere comes and vanishes and she feels she must have imagined that. i wonder if this chapter is going to mark a point where we spend more time with tarwater, or if it's going to be close to rayber still. i would be pleased with both, but this is an odd little chapter, the setting shifts here, they're going out on a boat, i wonder if tarwater will baptize bishop then, he also tied bishop's shoes this chapter which is a big moment, it's the kindest he's been to bishop so far, so bothered by him still, the boy accomplished getting tarwater to do so by becoming an obstacle...

here's something else i read today:

a friend sent me this, i've not very familiar with takemoto novala, she asked if i knew him, i said i didn't, but maybe i've heard his name before? seems familiar. anyhow, i'm glad she brought it to attention, this story was fun, mostly, but really i'm excited to read through his little things about fashion and stuff, here's one i liked about hello kitty, this person was really doing such a great service in translating his stuff:

kitty white... wow, never knew that.

now it is freaking 7:02 am... what a coinkydink, that's the vegas area code. i need to sleep, no matter the case, i will say reading flannery o'connor to seiko is compelling, her yowling really works over her writing. continually thinking about her having the ability to write about the lake turning to the width of a knife-blade as tarwater squints at it... perfectly violent imagery, she's a great great great writer... everything she did, a perfect step in a kind of ballet.

oh a final note about jigoku, before i sign off, i found it rather... german expressionist at times, especially that actor who played tamura, what a crazy guy, he really leans into that, he's so talented at being corpse-like and haunted... i found him attractive as well, equally ancient and cursed as he was a figure of urban malaise, something oddly literary about his libidinal power, a violent thrashing between past/right now, i loved his performance, he drew attention to himself in this lovely way.

i gotsa sleep though,

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[beckleysbooks]

The Debate 

I don’t remember Mr. Henderson, my Speech teacher and our high school’s Debate Coach, teaching us to debate in the manner in which we witnessed earlier this month, in the 2024 Presidential Debate between Vice President Kamala Harris and Former President Donald Trump. My fear is that the latest presidential debate will be remembered for all of the wrong reasons. And, it’s not like our country is devoid of up and coming, as well as very skilled debaters. First to my mind comes my niece, whom I fondly call “Kaiser”. She is so sweet, at first impression, you’d agree that butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. During Kaiser’s high school years and now at university, there have been quite a few debate opponents who have misread that beautiful smile she wears. I’m told a number of Kaiser’s debate opponents have trembled at the mention of her name; she is that good at debating! I’m convinced that It is because she is always overly prepared and totally focused on scoring on the merits of her given subject. That’s the “speech and debate” I was taught. 

Once upon a time, orators were national celebrities and folks would walk or ride a horse for over an hour just to hear their speeches. These “meetings” were social events, where attendees also learned firsthand of national events. Take for instance, The Great Triumvirate – Webster, Clay & Calhoun – from the mid 19th century.  

Daniel Webster - “The Godlike Daniel” - had a quality of voice and a “huge chest that could power his miraculous instrument”. Webster was invited to the 50th commemoration of the Battle of Bunker Hill held in Boston on June 17, 1825 where he was sharing the podium with Lafayette. Undaunted by the ceremony, Webster stirred the twenty thousand strong crowd with the closing lines “Let our object be our country, our whole country and nothing but our country.” There was little doubt that this orator would become Senator Webster and he didn’t disappoint what was now a national audience with what historians refer to as his “2nd reply to Hayne”, a two-day speech that resonated in the halls of Congress. “Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and inseparable” is still remembered today as the call to action from this Webster speech.  

By 1850, Webster had been joined by Henry Clay from Kentucky. As this pair strove for unity in the country with a number of “Compromise” pieces of legislation, which were all preceded by extraordinary oratory. Daniel Webster is renown for his contribution, “The Constitution and The Union”, which was a three- and half-hour delivery on March 7th.  It is recorded that Webster’s eyes appeared like two balls of fire addressing the topic of secession with great drops of perspiration beaded on his face. 

As good an orator as Daniel Webster was, it is generally agreed that Henry Clay was the better speaker and debater. Clay will forever be remembered as “The Compromiser” for his diligent work in Washington to stitch together the Compromise of 1830 and 1850. It was this latter piece of legislation that drew the last bit of energy from him before his death. His senatorial address, “The Compromise of 1850” lasted over four- and three-quarter hours over two days, allowing the statesman to rest and recharge. I read Robert Remini’s book, “Henry Clay – Stateman for the Union” prior to my visiting his estate, “Ashlands”, in Lexington. It was so poignant to me in my visiting that the mansion had been reconstructed from the rubble found in the outhouse pits on site. The curators have done a superb job of restoration and I could sense Clay’s personality through touring each room. The estimable man who early in his congressional career was clearly frustrated with the “despotic actions” of President Andrew Jackson and spent three days in the senate gallery debating how the President required a censure for his placing “the very existence of liberty and the government in peril. To most observers, Clay’s extemporaneous remarks were falling on the deaf ears of the Vice President, Martin Van Buren, who was quietly reading a book whilst presiding over the chamber during this time. Clay with his voice in full throttle of sarcasm dared Van Buren to address his concerns with the President right that minute. It is recorded that the Vice President summoned another senator to take his speaker’s chair and then stepped onto the floor heading directly toward Clay. A fully packed gallery anxiously awaited a dust up between two of the most prominent politicians in the country. Vice President Van Buren bowed to Henry Clay, and instead of challenging the statesman, asked in a mocking voice if the Senator would “allow me to be indebted to you for another pinch of your aromatic Maccoboy”. Remini writes, “Dumfounded, Clay simply waved his hand toward the gold snuff box he kept on his desk. Van Buren sampled it and then leisurely returned to the chair of the presiding officer.”  

The one common thread with each of these debating forums of years past is the sheer length of their address, nearly all of them measured in hours and audiences who sat through their duration. My publicist keeps reminding me that my reels posted on today’s social media must be kept to 15 seconds. I guess this is progress, eh? 

As the icons of Webster and Clay were fading from the national scene, there was a senator from Illinois, who was there to carry on their legacy. His name was Stephen Douglas, The Little Giant, who was goaded into sharing the stage with an upstart rail splitter from the newly formed Republican party, and thus began the concept of a “debate” for public office. Abraham Lincoln in an effort to rebut the sitting senator, simply showed up in every town after Douglas had delivered his address. Lincoln stated, “it is in fact a concluding speech on him.” Annoyed by Lincoln’s campaigning, Douglas begrudgingly offered to share the stage with the theretofore unknown candidate for Illinois senate seat in 1858. Douglas chose seven venues, prominent points in each congressional district, where he and Lincoln would debate. They agreed that each candidate would begin alternatively with the person going first having one hour to make his case, then the opponent being given ninety minutes in rebuttal before the opening candidate would close the debate with an half hour wrap up. From this foray into political debates came the “Freeport Doctrine” named after the Lincoln/Douglas debate in Freeport, Illinois. The main issue during the campaign was “slavery extension”, which had divided the nation into two hostile camps and threatened the continued existence of the Union. Lincoln in his allotted time in Freeport asked Douglas to reconcile the candidate’s support of “popular sovereignty” with the recently released Dred Scott decision where free slaves would lose their “free” status if taken across state lines. Douglas’ feeble reply was basically, don’t establish these laws in your local communities that protect slave owner’s property. Douglas’ stance on this main issue split the Democrat Party. Douglas narrowly defeated Lincoln in 1858 but lost his stature as a national figure. Meanwhile, a post-debate “bounce” saw Lincoln acclaimed as an eloquent spokesman for his party, one who saw a dominant run by the Republicans from 1860-1884. 

One cannot have a discourse on presidential debates and not mention the first debating contest broadcast on television. Four dates were agreed to by the candidates, Vice President Richard Nixon and Senator John Kennedy. The first debate aired on CBS in Chicago on September 26, 1960 with Howard K. Smith as the moderator. Following were debates in Washington D.C. on October 7th with Frank McGee from NBC moderating, the October 13th debate where Nixon was in Los Angeles and Kennedy showed up in ABC studios in New York City, and the last debate held in New York City again on October 21st. History only focuses on that first televised debate. As a candidate, Kennedy was trailing by a wide margin in the public’s opinion. He was “untested” and very young at 43 years of age. Kennedy not only thoroughly researched the potential debate topics, over 100 memorized answers from index cards, but left no stone unturned by visiting the CBS studio in advance for the lighting conditions and temperature etc. Meanwhile, the seasoned politico, Nixon arrived on the debating scene after multiple stops on the campaign trail for that late September day. Nixon refused make up to hide his 5 o’clock shadow, wore a gray suit that simply blended into the backdrop, which only accentuated his tired and pale appearance and sweaty brows. Historians are reluctant to state that this one debate turned the campaign on its head for both candidates, but Kennedy won the race by only .2% of the vote, or with about 118,000 votes to spare. 

Nationally televised debates can impact a candidate’s chances of winning the oval office, and that’s why they have been a staple of each election year since 1976. What an incredible opportunity to address the voting public, especially if the candidates can effectively articulate their plan going forward. The bygone days of the orator who spell bounds an entire nation may never return. However, issues that deeply divide our country seem to be the one constant over time and throughout our history. Webster’s words, “Let our object be our country, our whole country and nothing but our country” if taken up as a battle cry today, could go a long way toward the healing of our nation, where once again, we could honestly pledge to one another that this is “one country, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all”. 

[culttvblog]

Armchair Theatre: A Bit of a Lift

Content warnings: suicide and rape. This post gives away an essential plot point.

This is a 1973 episode of Armchair Theatre, and as far as I can tell is a favourite of the fans. It is therefore naturally my solemn duty to do a hatchet job on it. Of course my oft-repeated policy is that rubbish won't appear here, and this is still quality drama, despite being deeply flawed in a couple of ways. The main ways in which this is quality drama are in dialogue which literally sparkles, brilliant characterisation and a plot which does actually hang together.

The plot is relatively simple: it's about a man and a woman who meet for the first time at a mutual friend's wedding and decide to book into a hotel for a quickie. At the hotel the man (Alec) goes for a bath, forgets which room they were in, and goes into the room of a second man (Frank), who has gone to the hotel to kill himself, who promises to go to the desk and find out what room he is in, which he does. Then the second man goes to their room, sleeps with the woman (Penelope) and feels so much better about himself. It ends with Frank and Penelope exchanging addresses and he's not going to kill himself any more.

You will of course readily see that this is exactly the sort of thing which would have had Mary Whitehouse up in arms, and strangely I have not found any record of her complaining about it. I think it might not be as famous as it could be (I think it's on the first volume of the DVD releases of Armchair Theatre) because of the problems I'll come to.

It's racy, for a start. As a depiction of planning of casual sex between a man and a woman who have just met it's superb. It's almost a situation comedy, in this respect, the situation being the wedding crossing with the suicide.

It also deals with the planning of the suicide in a completely matter of fact way. We see a fascinating scene of the man recording a record of his suicide note to post to his ex-wife. He does this in a machine where you put a coin in and sit in it like a photo booth. You record your record while the light is on and it gives it to you. It's absolutely fascinating. It's a striking contrast between the preparations for his suicide and the wedding reception taking place at the same time, before Alec and Penlope book into the same hotel as Frank.

And so we come to the problems with this play.

The first is the one that when Frank finds out the number of the room in which Penelope is waiting for Alec, he goes in and finds that she's fallen asleep because Alec has been so long. He then sleeps with her and Penelope is so sleepy that she still thinks she's with Alec. This of course sours the previous happy preparations for consensual sex because she isn't consenting to sex with Frank, and in fact is being raped. There is a lot of discussion online about whether this is related to changing mores, and frankly I have limited patience for this. Making yourself happy by nonconsensual sex with a woman who is expecting someone else has always been serial killer territory, even in the seventies. The fact that she apparently comes round to this idea and gets his address (personally I'd have wanted it to give to Hilda Handcuffs) just means that she's being treated as an object in the middle of a light drama bout making a suicidal man feel better about himself. This is proper screwed.

I'm slightly sceptical about the fact of Penelope confusing the two men because they don't look like each other at all and are built quite differently, no matter how sleepy she was. Would she seriously not open her eyes - the room isn't dark? But of course this problem of credibility fades into insignificance in comparison to the slight matter of rape.

Finally, and this may just be me nit picking. There's something horribly wrong with the wedding, which is that the organist plays Wagner's Bridal March far too fast and the bride charges down the aisle like she's a dog after a rabbit. This was bugging me so much that I began to wonder whether it was me, and started looking for recordings online. I was delighted to see that I was right about this and in fact have found a video of how to do it perfectly. It appears at the end of this post largely because if you can find a husband who looks like that at you and talks to you in front of the Archbishop as if there's nobody else there, you want to keep hold of him. I do say that this blog aims to be instructive as well as entertaining!

So to summarise A Bit of a Lift is a deeply flawed play which is still worth watching, if you can deal with its subject matter, for its brilliant dialogue. I just think that probably not including suicide and making all sexual activity consensual would have made it into a perfect light comedy.

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Image credit: IMDb

[ear-worthy]

Seraphina Speaks Podcast: For Children Who Think...And Adults Who Should

There is a man I met in Illinois who records and distributes a podcast for the residents of his assisted living home. He is 91 years old and discusses life from the perspective of people in their 80s and 90s. The podcast is amateurish, beset by sound quality issues, and utterly charming.

This podcast exemplifies the innate beauty of podcasting as a media format because it can be tailored for any audience, no matter how old, or how young

Two weeks after that visit, I received a message from a Seraphina Malina-Derben complimenting my work. I found her message refreshing for two reasons. First, I receive many more "you are horrible" type of messages. Second, Seraphina is an 11-year-old student from Westminster, England in the United Kingdom. 

After checking her profile, I discovered that 11-year-old Seraphina is a podcaster and has a podcast -- Seraphina Speaks:For Children Who Think -- that she's been recording since she was seven years old. Her first episode was released in April 2020.

After recovering from the pleasant shock of such precociousness, I set about listening to 15 episodes of Seraphina Speaks. They're short, running from five to 15 minutes.

Here's their well-written promotional message:

"This award-winning family-friendly show inspires tweens and early teens to examine social norms and ordinary, everyday things. Everything from happiness, being a tween, chores, school, Race, toys, & more."

"Your host Seraphina Malina-Derben (currently 11 years old) started the show aged seven, as a small girl with big questions. Now older, she continues to query life’s basic situations. She brings thoughtful and fun conversation and is joined by her trusty triplet brothers plus different correspondents each episode. In 15-20 minute episodes, she reviews other family focused podcasts, with frequent guest appearances from hosts of these shows. Seraphina Speaks is listened to globally across schools, by children, and within families as conversation starters."

Some of my favorite Seraphina episodes include:

June 21, 2020 -- Seraphina starts by telling us her favorite cakes -- chocolate filling with chocolate chips inside and Victorian sponge cake. Then she discusses the wisdom of the familiar maxim, "You can't have your cake and eat it, too." Her seven-year-old sage advice on eating cake so it doesn't go to waste is spectacularly logical and childlike in its inherent wisdom.

October 10, 2020 -- Seraphina discusses farts and goes beyond the prototypical schoolboy fascination with passing gas. Seraphina gets down to business and explains what we should know about farts. She tells her listeners that the average human farts 14 times a day (Has she met my Uncle Dave?), the word "farts" comes from an Old English word, which means to break wind, and holding in farts can cause bloating. Also, her mother doesn't like the word "fart" and prefers the euphemism "wiffie." I prefer "puffy" as a more descriptive word. 

November 14, 2020 -- On this episode, Seraphina discusses racism and does it with more acumen and sensitivity than most U.S. Republican elected officials. She interviews George Floyd's uncle, Selwyn Jones, and I defy you not to hold in a tear.

In that episode, Seraphina asked, "How do we get rid of racism?" Then, she articulates a sensible solution that has evaded many adults. Her answer? "By talking about racism, of course," she insists.

The U.S. is going into an election this November with two over-the-hill men running. That's nuts. How about if we voted for an 11-year-old like Seraphina? I think she'd do a better job than Sleepy Joe and Dumb Donald.

We asked Seraphina how she got into podcasting? 

Seraphina answered: "Mama is a long-time podcaster, and I used to sit in on her interviews. I thought why can't I do that as it sounds like fun. All the tech kit was already available, so that helped. I was six at the time and started podcasting at seven." Seraphina continued: ""Mama is producer of Seraphina Speaks. We talk about content, scripting, etc. Marie is our editor and has worked on podcasts with Mama since 2018. She does sound. We've been careful to not go too much on Instagram, as I didn't want to do that. So Substack is where I feel comfortable, although I'm younger than the age that writers are supposed to be. Mama and I do the Substack."

Seraphina's recent episodes on body odor (odour, as the English spell it) pass the smell test for intelligent and sensitive ways to handle people with body odor. As Seraphina explains, tweens and teens have bodies that are changing radically, and those changes can precipitate alterations in body odor. Ever been around middle school boys? 

Her advice on telling someone they smell is: "Be gentle but don't mince your words. Be kind, be truthful, and make sure they know you care about them."

How is it possible that an 11-year-old girl from England offers better advice on life skills than many adults?  After listening to those episodes, if Seraphina is indicative of the generation that will one day rule the world, I feel comforted that she is only one of many who are socially aware, embrace diversity and inclusion, empathize with those who are disadvantaged, and determined to make the world a better place for all.

To me, Seraphina is another Greta Thunberg, the Swedish activist.

Asked about her future, Seraphina says: "I want to make a difference. I'm testing the water about how I will do that. It will involve my voice and has to be something I enjoy. That means something in the media that challenges the way the world is.  I may have to take a break to take exams when I'm older, but at the moment I don't have plans to stop. I'm a podcaster who loves podcasting."

Seraphina was named a young social impact hero for this thought leadership podcast.

Finally, read just two of the reviews listeners posted about Seraphina's podcast. I think they're priceless."I’m 11, and I’m using my mother’s account. I like how you explain things so that even if I knew nothing about the topic, I would still understand what you’re saying. I really enjoy when you say something is hard to pronounce. It makes me smile and you feel relatable!"

"We could listen to this podcast just to hear Seraphina talk—her voice is soothing and melodic. But more than the tone of her voice, Seraphina shares such interesting information on a variety of topics. Highly recommend!"

Check out Seraphina Speaks:For Children Who Think. What you may find is that children in this generation are smarter than we think, and have a more balanced, reasonable, and solutions-oriented view of the world than the adults that currently run it.

If I had a crystal ball, I'd predict that in the future, Seraphina will be either the most popular podcaster in the world, a future Prime Minister, or an influential social activist.

[prnews-press]

Marianne Schwab, Former National Network TV Talk Show Producer, Exposes Five Mistakes High-Level Entrepreneurs Make with Talk Show Interviews

Getting invited to appear as a guest on a TV talk show can be a valuable opportunity for experts, authors, and high-level entrepreneurs to share their message with a broad audience and establish credibility. However, it’s essential to be aware of the challenges that come with securing and preparing for such appearances on television and how to avoid common mistakes that could derail a media interview. The media landscape is constantly evolving, and it can be challenging to keep up with the latest trends, preferences, and best practices. Marianne Schwab, a former national network TV Talk Show Producer, understands the good, the bad, and the ugly from what can go right to what can go terribly wrong and she shares her insights on some the biggest mistakes high level entrepreneurs make when they get talk show interview opportunities. Mistake #1 – Not understanding that it’s all about the media hook and story angle. Anyone who wants to be a guest on a talk show needs to understand what producers want and it’s really pretty simple. According to Marianne, a media hook will be the number one reason a producer will look at a pitch to decide if an expert will make a good guest. “The media hook is really about how producers will promote the segment or title it on their website so viewers click to watch it online. For example, one of my clients is a Canine Caterer and she launched a cook book for dogs that also had two pages of toxic foods to avoid giving your dog. Our media hook was, ‘Toxic Mistakes Dog Owners Make.’ This is the sort of hook that you can almost hear the host of the show say, like ‘Coming up next,’ or ‘Stay tuned.’ That’s the type of media hook producers love.” Mistake #2 – Not understanding the amount of preparation needed before the interview. TV talk shows can be intimidating even if an expert has lots of YouTube videos or Facebook Live experience. Marianne has prepared clients for hundreds of interviews, “Without the right preparation and coaching, it can be challenging to come across as confident, articulate, and engaging on camera. For the newbie talk show guest, they often think once they’ve booked the interview, all they have do is show up and answer questions, but that is a recipe for disaster. You don’t show up for the World Series and treat the game like a batting practice. If you want to hit a home run with your interview, you need to dial in your message so you can maximize your three minute interview and then prepare it so you come off authentic and confident and this can take between five to ten hours.” Mistake #3 – Not understanding what to look for when hiring a publicist. Hiring a publicist is the best way to fast track getting television interviews, but not all publicists specialize in broadcast or have those contacts. Marianne advises, “You want to work with a publicist who specializes in broadcast P.R. and has media connections with producers. Also, look at their track record for clients they’ve booked on talk show programs. Since I’m a former national network talk show producer, I can guarantee that my clients will get on network quality local talk shows since I have strong relationships with producers all over the country.” So look for publicists with talk show media connections because ultimately, producers work with trusted professionals. Mistake #4 – Not understanding that the first talk show interviews will be a local talk shows. Even if an author has had a bestselling book, it’s no guarantee they’ll land an interview on a national talk show. In fact, it’s unlikely, according to Marianne, “As a producer for national talk shows, I always wanted to see that guests had been on other talk shows and that meant local talk shows. I knew if they could do well on those shows, they’d be great on my show since my job was literally on the line if I booked a bad guest. Local talk shows on network affiliates are an excellent training ground for experts and high level entrepreneurs to master on camera media appearances while building credibility as a go-to on-camera expert.” Mistake #5 – Not understanding that talk shows are about publicity and NOT marketing or advertising. One of the most difficult things to understand about talk show interviews is that they are not marketing or advertising platforms so the approach has to be informational in nature with a soft call to action. Marianne shares, ” No amount of advertising can get you the credibility that appearing as a guest in the editorial framework of a talk show because at the end of the day, advertising is saying that you’re good, but public relations is getting someone else, in essence, to say it for you. Anytime you’re interviewed, you’re not just perceived as an expert, but you’re elevated to an authority in your industry.” High level entrepreneurs often look for a direct ROI from talk show appearances, but successful public relations is not measured in the same way that a successful marketing campaign is measured. Overall, getting on a TV talk show and leveraging it correctly, can give an entrepreneur the instant know, like, and trust factor with potential clients or customers that can ultimately seal the deal on purchasing decisions. Marianne Schwab has worked as a producer for over 25 years in New York and Los Angeles. She is currently the Executive Producer of CMP Media Cafe where she works with clients to develop compelling media hooks and story angles that get them TV and radio interviews in today’s complicated media environment. She shares tips on Instagram and has created an online training that shares her insider secrets to promoting a business on TV talk shows and details the types of guests producers love to book as guests. Read the full article

[venomnectar]

I think I realized what was so off to me about the Makima train scene in the anime, I'm sure I'm not the only person who noticed this however so if I sound like a broke record pls ignore me lol

It wasn't until after looking at this panel that I realized how big she looks. Like when comparing Makima's height to the man on the right, she almost looks taller than him. Her coat makes her shoulders and chest appear much broader, too, and the expression on her face reminds me of the expression my cats would make after they dropped a dead animal at my feet.

She doesn't even look mad. She looks like she wants to eat this guy. Very unnerving, to say the least! I know I'm not alone when I say this is one of my favorite panels of Makima because it really captures her aura.

Now to the anime (apologies for the low quality image)! Here we can see a difference in height between Makima and the man to the right, who we can't even see the top of his head because it's out of the shot while Makima is in full view from the torso up. We can also see that the coat doesn't really make her look any wider, and it looks like it's a better fit for her. As for her expression, it reminds me of the look a teacher would make if they were going to scold a student.

That being said, I think it was still a very good scene, and I still really enjoyed this episode a lot. I would say I enjoyed the temple scene in the anime more than I did when I read it.

Here I thought she was using different hand gestures like Aki to summon the fox devil, but in the anime, she was straight up smushing her hands together like she was crushing her victims. (Don't even get me started on how much I loved the animation for that gahh).

Overall, I would say mappa is doing a very good job with this adaptation, and even when they don't exactly "capture" the vibes from the manga, they make up for it with the music, lighting, voice acting, etc.

Again, this is just my own opinions and observations, so if you disagree, I respect that! I'd love to hear what other people thought of this scene (especially anime only fans) so uuhh thank you for reading my rambles if you got this far!