#New Yorker radio hour

[annacswenson]

•

Akram Khan discussing Giselle, in conversation with Ngofeen Mputubwele on the the New Yorker Radio Hour

[garudabluffs]

What Biden Is Thinking About the 2024 Election March 1, 2024

Despite hand-wringing among Democrats about Joe Biden’s age and his discouraging poll numbers, the President’s campaign for reëlection displays an “ostentatious level of serenity,” Evan Osnos says about the election. “This is a matter of great personal importance to Joe Biden. He feels almost, viscerally, this contempt for Trump and for what Trump did to the country,” Osnos tells David Remnick, after a rare private interview at the White House. “And let’s remember, he didn’t just try to steal this election—from Biden’s perspective—he tried to steal it from him.” But threats to the President’s reëlection are many. The war in Gaza has alienated many voters from Biden, especially in Arab American communities, but the Israel-Palestinian conflict has also been felt on a global scale. “When Houthi rebels started firing rockets at ships in the Red Sea,” Osnos points out, “it had an immediate effect on global shipping, to the point that it could have, and could yet still, push inflation back up. . . . I know this is the worst cliché in journalism, but this election has an element that is beyond anything we’ve ever really dealt with before.”

Burn Book: A Tech Love Story 02/27/2024

Plus, the reporter Kara Swisher on “Burn Book,” her account of many years on the tech beat, and the moguls controlling companies she compares to “nation-states.” She had been on good terms with Elon Musk for many years, but “I don’t know what happened to him,” she says. “I’m not a psychiatrist. But I think as he got richer and richer—there are always enablers around people that make them think they hung the moon.”

LISTEN 55:36 https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/tnyradiohour/articles/what-biden-is-thinking-about-the-2024-election

[nonesuchrecords]

"For every music lover, I think there are two basic forms of pleasure: the huge satisfaction of something you love done just perfectly, and then the thrill of hearing something altogether shockingly new. When an artist does both things at once, your head comes open a little bit, which is what happened when I first heard Cécile McLorin Salvant," David Remnick, the editor of The New Yorker, says of his guest on The New Yorker Radio Hour. "She's a jazz singer for sure, someone on the level of Sarah Vaughan or Ella Fitzgerald, but her repertoire and her approach to performing are totally her own." Salvant spoke with Remnick and performed three songs with pianist Sullivan Fortner: the Funny Girl favorite "Don't Rain on My Parade," the late 16th-century John Dowland song “Can She Excuse My Wrongs," and her own “Moon Song,” from her 2022 Nonesuch debut album, Ghost Song. You can hear it all (including a shoutout to Rhiannon Giddens) here.

[fairuzfan]

Mosab Abu Toha is speaking today on the New Yorker Radio Hour at 3pm ET if you'd like to tune in.

[ridenwithbiden]

LOS ANGELES (AP) — Teri Garr, the quirky comedy actor who rose from background dancer in Elvis Presley movies to co-star of such favorites as "Young Frankenstein" and "Tootsie," has died. She was 79.

Garr died Tuesday of multiple sclerosis “surrounded by family and friends,” said publicist Heidi Schaeffer. Garr battled other health problems in recent years and underwent an operation in January 2007 to repair an aneurysm.

Admirers took to social media in her honor, with writer-director Paul Feig calling her “truly one of my comedy heroes. I couldn’t have loved her more” and screenwriter Cinco Paul saying: “Never the star, but always shining. She made everything she was in better.”

The actor, who was sometimes credited as Terri, Terry or Terry Ann during her long career, seemed destined for show business from her childhood.

Her father was Eddie Garr, a well-known vaudeville comedian; her mother was Phyllis Lind, one of the original high-kicking Rockettes at New York's Radio City Music Hall. Their daughter began dance lessons at 6 and by 14 was dancing with the San Francisco and Los Angeles ballet companies.

She was 16 when she joined the road company of "West Side Story" in Los Angeles, and as early as 1963 she began appearing in bit parts in films.

She recalled in a 1988 interview how she won the "West Side Story" role. After being dropped from her first audition, she returned a day later in different clothes and was accepted.

From there, Garr found steady work dancing in movies, and she appeared in the chorus of nine Presley films, including "Viva Las Vegas," "Roustabout" and "Clambake."

She also appeared on numerous television shows, including “Star Trek,” “Dr. Kildare” and “Batman,” and was a featured dancer on the rock ‘n’ roll music show “Shindig,” the rock concert performance T.A.M.I. and a cast member of “The Sonny and Cher Comedy Hour.”

Her big film break came as Gene Hackman’s girlfriend in 1974’s Francis Ford Coppola thriller “The Conversation.” That led to an interview with Mel Brooks, who said he would hire her for the role of Gene Wilder’s German lab assistant in 1974’s “Young Frankenstein” — if she could speak with a German accent.

“Cher had this German woman, Renata, making wigs, so I got the accent from her,” Garr once recalled.

The film established her as a talented comedy performer, with New Yorker film critic Pauline Kael proclaiming her “the funniest neurotic dizzy dame on the screen.”

Her big smile and off-center appeal helped land her roles in “Oh God!” opposite George Burns and John Denver, “Mr. Mom” (as Michael Keaton’s wife) and “Tootsie” in which she played the girlfriend who loses Dustin Hoffman to Jessica Lange and learns that he has dressed up as a woman to revive his career. (She also lost the supporting actress Oscar at that year’s Academy Awards to Lange.)

Although best known for comedy, Garr showed in such films as “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” “The Black Stallion” and “The Escape Artist” that she could handle drama equally well.

“I would like to play ‘Norma Rae’ and ‘Sophie’s Choice,’ but I never got the chance,” she once said, adding she had become typecast as a comic actor.

She had a flair for spontaneous humor, often playing David Letterman’s foil during guest appearances on NBC’s “Late Night With David Letterman” early in its run.

Her appearances became so frequent, and the pair’s good-natured bickering so convincing, that for a time rumors cropped up that they were romantically involved. Years later, Letterman credited those early appearances with helping make the show a hit.

It was also during those years that Garr began to feel “a little beeping or ticking” in her right leg. It began in 1983 and eventually spread to her right arm as well, but she felt she could live with it. By 1999 the symptoms had become so severe that she consulted a doctor. The diagnosis: multiple sclerosis.

For three years Garr didn’t reveal her illness.

“I was afraid that I wouldn’t get work,” she explained in a 2003 interview. “People hear MS and think, ‘Oh, my God, the person has two days to live.’”

After going public, she became a spokesperson for the National Multiple Sclerosis Society, making humorous speeches to gatherings in the U.S. and Canada.

“You have to find your center and roll with the punches because that’s a hard thing to do: to have people pity you,” she commented in 2005. “Just trying to explain to people that I’m OK is tiresome.”

She also continued to act, appearing on “Law & Order: Special Victims Unit,” “Greetings From Tucson,” “Life With Bonnie” and other TV shows. She also had a brief recurring role on “Friends” in the 1990s as Lisa Kudrow’s mother. After several failed romances, Garr married contractor John O’Neil in 1993. They adopted a daughter, Molly, before divorcing in 1996.

In her 2005 autobiography, “Speedbumps: Flooring It Through Hollywood,” Garr explained her decision not to discuss her age.

“My mother taught me that showbiz people never tell their real ages. She never revealed hers or my father’s,” she wrote.

She said she was born in Los Angeles, although most reference books list Lakewood, Ohio. As her father’s career waned, the family, including Teri’s two older brothers, lived with relatives in the Midwest and East.

The Garrs eventually moved back to California, settling in the San Fernando Valley, where Teri graduated from North Hollywood High School and studied speech and drama for two years at California State University, Northridge.

Garr recalled in 1988 what her father had told his children about pursuing a career in Hollywood.

“Don’t be in this business,” he told them. “It’s the lowest. It’s humiliating to people.”

Garr is survived by her daughter, Molly O’Neil, and a grandson, Tyryn.

(She was great in Martin Scorsese "After Hours" too.)

[justinsentertainmentcorner]

Tom Tapp at Deadline:

Just days after saying the movie business “is over” as a cultural force, Jerry Seinfeld is decrying the decline of comedy on television. He blames “the extreme left and P.C. crap.” In a new interview with David Remnick for the New Yorker Radio Hour, the Seinfeld creator maintained that “people always need comedy” in their lives. He observed that “it used to be that you would go home at the end of the day…People would go, ‘Oh, Cheers is on. M*A*S*H is on. Oh, Mary Tyler Moore is on. All in the Family is on.” No more, says, Seinfeld. “Where is it? Where is it? This is the result of the extreme left and P.C. crap and people worrying so much about offending other people,” he said.  “When you write a script, and it goes into four or five different hands, committees, groups – ‘Here’s our thought about this joke’ – well, that’s the end of your comedy,” he said.

This is just pathetic whining from Jerry Seinfeld.

See Also:

The Guardian: No Jerry Seinfeld, the ‘extreme left’ hasn’t killed comedy

[whitesinhistory]

Naomi Klein: Jews Must Raise Voices for Palestine, Oppose "False Idol of Zionism" - April 24, 2024

@democracynow:

Hundreds of protesters were arrested in Brooklyn on Tuesday when Jewish New Yorkers and allies gathered for what they called a "Seder in the Streets to Stop Arming Israel" on the second night of Passover. The demonstration, held one block away from the home of Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer, came just hours before the Senate overwhelmingly approved a $95 billion foreign aid package that includes about $17 billion in arms and security funding to Israel. "Too many of our people are worshiping a false idol," said award-winning author and activist Naomi Klein, one of several speakers at Tuesday's rally. "They are enraptured by it. They are drunk on it. They are profaned by it. And that false idol is called Zionism." Democracy Now! is an independent global news hour that airs on over 1,500 TV and radio stations Monday through Friday. Watch our livestream at democracynow.org Mondays to Fridays 8-9 a.m. ET. Subscribe to our Daily Email Digest: https://democracynow.org/subscribe

The US Jewish movement opposing Israeli war crimes is truly moving. God bless them.

[whileiamdying]

Bon Iver Is Searching for the Truth

The artist Justin Vernon discusses his new EP, “SABLE,” the dream of a happy adulthood, and his worry that he’s purposely repeating a “cycle of sorrow.”

By Amanda Petrusich October 16, 2024

Bon Iver is the alias of Justin Vernon, a singer, songwriter, and producer from Eau Claire, Wisconsin. Since 2007, when Vernon released “For Emma, Forever Ago,” his début LP as Bon Iver, he has been making formally experimental but gorgeously tender music that seems to take equal inspiration from Bruce Hornsby and the Indigo Girls, Arthur Russell and Aphex Twin. (The project name—a version of the French phrase “Bon hiver,” or “Good winter”—was borrowed from an episode of the television series “Northern Exposure,” a deep and formative work in Vernon’s life.) This week, Bon Iver will release “SABLE,” a three-song EP and the band’s first new music since 2019’s “i,i.” “SABLE,” is only a little more than twelve minutes long, but it feels revelatory, expansive, and raw. Vernon has a couple of different voices—a spectral falsetto; a deeper, throatier bellow—but it’s hard for me to think of another contemporary singer whose vocals carry quite as much pure, unmediated feeling.

Outside of Bon Iver, Vernon remains a wildly in-demand collaborator. He has a track on the newly remixed version of Charli XCX’s “brat” (he described the decision to participate as “a no-brainer,” saying “the art and the music, its aggression, its power, its pop-ness—it’s just amazing”), and he worked with Kanye West on “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy” (2010) and “Yeezus” (2013), two of the most acclaimed rap albums of the past few decades. He also appeared on Taylor Swift’s “folklore” and “evermore,” both from 2020; because of the pandemic, Vernon and Swift didn’t meet in person until long after “folklore” was released. “I wasn’t starstruck,” Vernon told me. “I was, like, ‘Wow, you’re somebody that I would have been very close friends with in high school. You’re real and you’re here.’ To see what she’s been up to, the propulsion, the expansion . . . I don’t know, it’s just unlike anything anyone’s ever seen. And yet there she was, this person who made a lot of sense to me.”

I previously spoke with Vernon at The New Yorker Festival in 2019. Earlier this month, we sat down again to record an episode of The New Yorker Radio Hour, and continued our conversation after we left the studio. This interview, a composite of both encounters, has been condensed and edited.

Justin, it’s so good to see you.

It’s great to see you, too, Amanda. I was pacing around my room today, like, “I’m anxious! Shit.” I haven’t talked to anyone about music in any official capacity since our last conversation, probably. It’s been five years. I was, like, “Oh, that’s why.” Your nervous system’s kinda keyed up, and you have to have a CBD gummy, take a breath. Walk around the block, do some push-ups.

Five years is a very civilized pace, I think, and you’ve hardly been silent during that time. But do you feel any internal or external pressure to produce work on a certain schedule?

Nope, not at all. This one really came from personal necessity. It was just time. Some of these songs have been bubbling for five years.

“SABLE,” is just twelve minutes of music, but, for me, it feels a lot bigger than that. I wanted to ask you about the grouping of these three songs, in particular. You mentioned that they were written at different times, but I hear a very legible arc—a closed circle, almost. I hear the story—and this is quite relatable, to be honest—of a person trying, and then a person failing, and then a person finding some peace with their limitations.

Are you me? [Laughs.] That feels right. They feel like an equidistant triangle, a triptych. It’s three, and it couldn’t be longer. It runs the gamut from accepting anxiety to accepting guilt to accepting hope. Those three things in a row. There’s no room for a prologue or an epilogue at that point. Because that’s it—that’s what everything is.

From a place of guilt and anxiety, how vast is the distance to hope?

My friend Erinn Springer, who made the videos for “SABLE,” was telling me that with [the track] “AWARDS SEASON,” the word for her was “almost.” Time and time again, I’ve been sitting at that feeling of almost: we’re almost there, or we’re just about to get there, I can feel or dream of a place that’s coming soon. And I guess that’s what the song is talking about—change, and how we’re always partaking in it.

This is maybe an incredibly personal question, but—

[Laughs.] That’s good.

When you get to the place of almost—the thing is in reach, you can see it, you can feel it, it’s really close—is that when you panic? Because that’s when I panic.

I think that’s when I have to push further. These songs, they’re personal, of course, but the need to share them is also very personal. These are songs with truth that I’ve located, or been a vehicle for. But they’re true. And I was, like, These have to be shared.

The public piece is complicated. It also seems possible that your relationship to fame might change; maybe you want it one year and the next year you don’t.

I remember there was this moment during the pandemic where I was, like, I could stop doing all of this. I was driving my little A.T.V. around. I needed that—knowing I could stop. But getting back on the road there’s all this excitement, and then, so quickly, the anguish and weariness and impossibility of it set back in.

Do you think you’ll pull back from touring?

I’ll share a pretty vulnerable moment. I knew that we were gonna be taking some time off. It was the beginning of our last run. I was in Duluth. My family was there. I was so happy to be with everyone, but I was really suffering under the weight of everything. I was playing “[715] CRΣΣKS”—there’s no accompaniment. It’s really a crusher to do. It burns a lot of gas. I was scanning the crowd. I was just having a tough month. I was getting ready to start saying goodbye to the last sixteen years, in a way. There were six or seven thousand people out there, and I became overwhelmed with anxiety and sadness. I got choked up and started to weep. My bandmates were all up on the stage, leaning down, because it’s too short of a song for them to leave and come back. I lock eyes with Waz [Jenn Wasner], I can see Michael Lewis looking at me. And I’m crying—like, hard. Shoulders-heaving crying. And I feel unsafe, like this is not an O.K. place for someone to be. And the crowd is going wild, you know? I’m not mad at them. I would also be cheering for encouragement. But I was thinking, They wantthis. Or this is making sense to them. It wasn’t all negative—

But it felt like there was blood in the water?

The rest of the show, I could barely function. If I could do that same touring setup and have somebody else sing the songs, that would be a little easier. But that whole night in, night out, let’s excavate Justin—I’m not built for it. When I say it like that, I think, How is anybody? But, that’s just me, I can’t.

Well, there’s so little distance in your work. I don’t know, maybe Bon Iver doesn’t need to be a road show.

When I used to go to shows, for me, they were excavations. They were explosions, they were unique. They were a band playing four new songs they made up last weekend, at an all-ages venue in Eau Claire. Or seeing Melt-Banana open for Mr. Bungle in, like, ’95—I’m watching something rip me open. And of course they were all also touring and doing the thing and everything, but just . . . I did it a lot, and I’m extremely proud of that achievement. I’m extremely proud of the team. When we were at Barclays, Yo La fuckin’ Tengo opened the show, and we played “Sh’Diah,” and Sean Carey’s doing free-jazz freakouts on drums, and Michael Lewis, my favorite living musician and improviser and soloist, he’s playing, and we are throttling free jazz to an arena that is absolutely understanding what we’re doing. And, like, check mark. Check mark! Thank God. But I can’t go to that well over and over again. It has to be something sacred—it has to renew. I come back to the name of the band. It’s a good band name, a good project name, because it’s like—good death, good winter. Things need rest. A life needs to rest at some point.

It’s funny, I used to be a cynic about things like weddings—why does it have to be a big, performative, public thing? But you realize that is sort of the profundity of it.

I put these songs out because I know there’s truth in them, and I want to share that with everybody. I think where it gets slippery is when it’s, like, “O.K., but we need to see the person who sings the song.” Lately, the song has seemed to be not enough. That’s the part that gets me a little sensitive. But that’s what art is, and that’s why I believe in art and expression so much. It does seem to be the thing that carries cultures forward, past their old haunts and problems.

I mean, I think art can be instructive as well as lifesaving. I’m certainly not the first person to suggest that. Historically, you’ve been pretty mindful. Even using the name Bon Iver puts a little air, a little space, between you and the world. But you’re in these videos. It was so lovely to see your face.

Thank you. It felt like there was a certain amount of acceptance in that. My great friend Eric Timothy Carlson, who does some of my art work, was, like, “Man, just when are you going to do your ‘Man in Black’ thing?” And I was, like, “Challenge accepted. Let’s go.” Hiding has been a valuable thing, and a way for me to express that I don’t think it’s all that important who I am—that the songs are most important.

For listeners who have been with you since “For Emma, Forever Ago,” I suspect the single, “SPEYSIDE,” might feel like a kind of return, insofar as it’s a little more stripped-down, a little less layered, than what you were doing on “22, a Million” or “i,i.” Do you think of the two poles of Bon Iver—music that’s minimally produced, versus music that’s maybe more maximally produced—as in opposition?

From “For Emma” until “i,i,” it felt like it was an arc, or an expansion—from One to All. “I,i” was very much me trying to talk about the We—the Us, outside of I. And when I got to these songs, the obvious thing was, well, people might think this is a return to something. But it really feels like a kind of raw second skin. I think about time in cylindrical, forward-moving circles. This feels like a new person, new skin. A new everything, more than a return. But I did feel like it was important to strip it down to just the bare essentials and get out of the way, to not hide with swaths of choirs. Just get it as close to the human ear as possible.

Can you talk a little about where and when you wrote “SPEYSIDE”?

The “SPEYSIDE” story is that I was in Key West. I had been living alone in the woods by myself, in Wisconsin, and it was getting dangerous. My parents had always gone down there, and I was, like, “You know what? I could just escape.” I went for three or four weeks. My brother and sister-in-law also came, and then we were, like, “Oh, this is so fun, we’ll stay another month.” It didn’t matter. They were just working from home. This was January, February of 2021, and I was reflecting a lot. The song came out mostly in its entirety. I was thinking about guilt and people in my life where I was just, like, “Oh, my God, I really did not do that right. I did not act the right way.” It just came rolling out, with help from rum. I would go out to the pier, and I would look back at Key West, and I’d see it as this island. I didn’t want to name the song “Key West,” although it would have been appropriate. Speyside is a region in Scotland, and it’s a whiskey. That’s the story with the song title. It was my little nod to southern Florida.

So, I have this running text thread with a close friend of mine where we text each other the loneliest things we can think of. We’ve been doing this for years. And so, every six months or so, I’ll get a text from him that will just say, —“Rental car shuttle, pre-dawn . . .”—

[Groans.]

Or “Horse, stuck in the mud.” A recurring character on our text thread is the pedal steel guitar.

Oh, man.

So the text will just be, “Pedal steel solo, Buck Owens, ‘Together Again.’ Apocalyptic!”

[Laughing.] That’s apocalyptic-sad right there!

There’s pedal steel on two of these three new songs. I’m curious about your relationship to the instrument.

Well, it’s a very good question, because it’s the most beautiful musical instrument that humans have constructed, for sure. It really is. It’s an impossibility, and truly an American invention. It mimics the voice, but there’s nothing else that slides between chords like that. They’ve been trying to make keyboards in this century that mimic that, and there’s just nothing like it. Greg Leisz is one of my favorite musicians to ever live, and I was very, very lucky to get to record him again. A very formative record for me was Bill Frisell’s “Good Dog, Happy Man.” That was the first time I ever heard Greg play. There’s a song on there called “That Was Then”—my high-school friends and I—we’re very, very, very close—we all have it as a tattoo. The moment in which we felt the most alive and together was this little seven-, eight-second passage where Greg played this pedal steel line. It’s the pinnacle of music to me. And so to get him on “SABLE,” is just amazing. He’s a master, right? And he’s so funny, and we get along so well, but even he’ll sit there and be, like, “Oh, shit, how does this go?” It’s just so many strings and pedals. But he’s always searching.

I don’t want to ask you too much about the lyrics, because there’s often an opacity and an obliqueness to your writing that I find incredibly beautiful; in a way, I’m not that interested in the literal meaning. So, feel free to fib your way through this part. But I did want to ask about the title. “Sable” is a synonym for “black.” It’s a piece of clothing that widows sometimes wear. It’s a river in Michigan that my fly-fishing friends tell me is holy water for trout. It’s also a weasel, though that maybe feels less relevant.

Yeah, that cutie!

You use it as a noun in “AWARDS SEASON”: “But I’m a sable / and honey, us the fable.” Can you talk a little bit about what the word means to you?

It’s such a good question. For years and years, it’s just been there. There’s an outtake from the second record, I think, where I used it in a lyric. I don’t know what it is, but it’s true. I wrote it and I knew it was true, and I still didn’t know what it meant. I was, like, “Be O.K. with that.” But then I looked it up. Sable. Mourning. Deepest black. Also, place name. But what isit? For me, I think when I’m speaking that line, what it refers to is being the darkness. There have been times in my career where it has felt like I’m repeating a cycle of heartache. I was getting a lot of positive feedback for being heartbroken. And I wondered, maybe I’m pressing the bruise. Maybe I’m unknowingly steering this ship into the rocks over and over again, because . . . you know, I’m not, like, famous-on-the-street, People-magazine famous. But there have been a lot of accolades for me and my heartache. So it’s me asking the question: I’m a sable, I’ve been a sable. Am I repeating this cycle of sorrow? Or is this just how sorrow goes, and this is how everyone feels? That’s kind of what it means to me.

I hear joy and wonder in the work, too. But you’re right, that heartache is a part of the story of the Bon Iver. I think it’s easy to be dismissive and say, “Well, that’s a toxic notion, that artists need to suffer to make work.” But pain is generative, in a way.

That’s a really good way to say it.

When we’re grieving, when we’re hurting—I mean, grief is also an expression of love. I hate to say all of this, it seems like a terrible idea to perpetuate, but—

I think it’s either the most surface or the deepest thing. And, like we said before, grief can only come from the highest joys, the greatest things in life, you know? There were some things that I really needed to find out about myself in these songs. And so, in that regard, it’s been worth it, because I needed these songs to find out how I felt, and to really, actually say how I’ve been feeling.

I think of you as a person who considers language kind of pliable. And not just language but punctuation, too. You’ve made up some words. My favorite Bon Iver neologism is “fuckified.” It’s almost Shakespearean! Where does that playfulness come from?

When you said punctuation, my first thought was, I just did it wrong. But, no, it’s just expression. One of my best friends growing up—we’re still really close—we get into semantic arguments sometimes. He’ll say, “Justin, you can’t say something is super unique, or really unique. It’s either unique or it’s not.”

Your friend should get a job at The New Yorker.

Shout out to Keil! It’s the “SABLE,” thing. I didn’t really know what it was. And the “fuckified” in “10 d E A T h b R E a s T ⚄ ⚄”—you just have to kind of let it out as an expression. You brought up the opacity of my lyrics. It really feels like I’ve sort of found this new narrative structure in these songs, where it’s a little more clear what’s been going on, and I’m kind of just saying it, versus dancing around it.

The stories feel really close. Your voice feels really close. It’s a little like having you in the room.

I wanted it to be like that. To be right in your ear, you know?

“AWARDS SEASON” opens with the line “I can handle much more than I can handle”—that line flays me every time I hear it. I think it’s possible to perhaps understand those words as a person admitting to being overwhelmed. But, to me, it mostly sounds like someone discovering that they’re stronger than they thought they were. We’re lucky to learn that about ourselves in really tough moments, that we are actually pretty—

Resilient. And then there’s the spot where you know you gotta turn around and go back, because the mechanism isn’t working anymore. The metaphor I’ve always used is that it’s like running an engine with no oil. You are doing long-term damage. It takes a long time to re-oil, to reset the machine. My dad and I watched the Buster Douglas–Mike Tyson fight when I was growing up. Douglas’s mom had just passed but he still beat Tyson in Tokyo. Douglas would say you just have to “Suck it up.” My dad always says that. When I’m feeling like I’m not gonna make it, I remember my dad saying that to me. I don’t know—there’s times to suck it up and move on and get through it, and then there’s times where you gotta take a knee, and say, “You know what? I’m not strong enough for this, and I can’t do this alone.”

As you were saying that—“suck it up”—I was thinking, is that good advice? I think sometimes it is, right? And then, often, it is not, and it’s more complicated, and you need to ask for help and take care of yourself. But there are moments where we have to test ourselves a little bit, see what we can bear, what we can handle.

Yeah, right?

That Midwestern stoicism runs deep in the Vernon men.

Yeah, it does.

Speaking of healing: you’ve discussed the utility of psychedelic drugs in your life, in terms of managing anxiety or enabling creativity. I suffered abig loss two years ago, and there were times when the immensity of my grief felt truly insurmountable, to the extent that I wanted to manually reset my brain, to restore my capacity for happiness or lightness. There’s evidence suggesting that psychedelic therapies can be quite useful for grief. I’m still sort of figuring out if it makes sense for me. But I’m curious how that stuff fits into your life these days.

Well, these days, not much. It’s not in my life anymore, really. I once thought about pot, it’s sort of like going to the bowling alley and putting those bumpers up. It’s, like, “This rules. Every ball, I hit pins. Every idea I have has got legs.” After a number of years, that feeling gets really addictive. Mushrooms, LSD—there were times where it was very, very therapeutic. I think I look at it like opening a door. It has certainly stirred deeper pits of empathy and understanding and oneness with human beings and the world. Those were ideas I already had, but now solidified—that we are each other, and hurting one another is not going to get us anywhere but down. But the metaphor about it opening a door . . . you have to close a door. If you leave that door open too long, the snow’s gonna come in and you’re gonna get fried. I don’t look back with many regrets, although I do look back with accountability and a sense of reckoning.

Looking at your discography, I presume a kind of hunger in you for collaboration. You once said, “Power has come to me, but it’s not fun to wield by yourself, and it’s not as useful if it’s just your vision.” What appeals to you about resisting the auteur path?

I love this question. I believe in the power of the individual—don’t get me wrong—but I’ve always just found that it distracts from the point. Why do we like a song? Is it because of who’s singing it to us? Or is it the song? And I just think it’s the song. For me, it is. For me, it’s about the song and what the music does. It can be very distracting when it becomes, “Oh, I love Bon Iver so much. I want more Bon Iver. I want to see Bon Iver. I want to get his autograph.” I’m sensitive to it, and the attention can be overwhelming. I’m also uncomfortable with it because it distracts from the point that music delivered me to myself.

But I can also say when I first heard “Hello in There,” by John Prine, I was twelve years old, and I saw a universe of human joy and pain and love and life and death, all in three minutes. And of course I’m gonna be, like, “What was that?” And it’s useful, right, to have a name or whatever. But I’ve also found that in moments where I’ve thought, Oh, maybe I am really good at this, or really special, or I’ve got some sort of gift—really I’ve just rigged up a huge antenna to catch things. I have gotten better at crafting songs. But I just don’t need to dwell on it, and it’s not going to make the songs any more true or less true.

I wonder if what you’re talking about, the emphasis that we place on performers and performance, I wonder if it’s because—this is a very funny thing for me to say as a music critic—no one understands songwriting? Even songwriters! A lot of people speak of the process as almost this sort of divine channelling, wherein a sound or an idea or a melody comes to them, and they’re just receiving and recording it. It’s easier to be, like, there’s a guy up there and he’s singing and he has a voice and I also have a voice, that makes sense. But this other thing, where does the signal come from?

I mean, that’s the big question, right? Why are we worried about what happens when we die? What are we trying to find out? What is this mystery that we all seem to agree is there?

And music, in particular—neurologists are always studying it, trying to understand why it works on us—there’s no clear evolutionary advantage or reason for people to be absolutely devastated or buoyed by music. But we are, and we always have been. Maybe there’s a little bit of God in it.

Having been atheist and an agnostic at different times in my life, growing up Lutheran and then studying world religion in college, I was cynical, almost angry that when we use the word “God,” we’re so often misusing it. But I’ve been saying the word again lately, because I’m sick and tired of saying “synchronicity and coincidence.” And I just don’t know what else to call it. I’ve had friends who are deeply, deeply religious, and they talk about what God means to them. I’ve been a little more open to it. I’m certainly not a theist. But I like the word “God” and I’m back to using it.

The performance piece of it and the writing-recording piece of it—I’m not a musician, but they almost feel diametrically opposed to me. It’s weird that anyone can do both.

Nobody ever says that, but I agree. I’ve always looked at ’em like they’re the masculine and the feminine. They are a yin and yang. Masculine is live.

It’s power.

Yeah, it’s out. The record is so timeless and concave, or whatever the metaphors are. I actually mixed the EP. These are my performances. These are the moments that I wanted to create. I’m not going to think about how to instantly re-create them [onstage]. I’ve been working on this song for five years. I’m not gonna do that to myself. I’m not gonna do that to these songs. I really worked hard on getting the guitar to sound like it’s in your head on “SPEYSIDE.” I’m gonna let that breathe for a second, before I get out there and go “Woooooo!”

To return to collaboration: it forces you to be incredibly honest and vulnerable. Things that are hard for me—things that are hard for a lot of people. You have to have a line of communication open that allows you to be really frank about what’s working. How has that been for you? Have there been moments where your vision has not aligned with someone else’s? Have you ever had to scream, “Get out of my studio!”?

Twice. You know who you are. . . . [Laughs.] I think there are just times when you have to communicate. You mentioned Midwestern stoicism. I just learned that saying how you feel is really important. I’m, like, forty-three years old. [Laughs.]

Can you teach me?

Oh, God, it’s really hard. You just have to do it. It sucks. But saying, “Oh, just try it again,” is a way of saying, “That wasn’t it.” And then sometimes you’re, like, “Well, it’s never going to be it,” and then you don’t really have to say anything. So I never had to practice being super honest. I would just be, like, “Well, I’m not going to use that,” or “I’m going to redo that later,” or “I’ll edit it.” “I’ll chop it up later,” is what they say. But, yeah, of course, some of my longtime collaborators, like Rob Moose, we just have a language that we’ve built over the years. It’s pretty easy for us to find what each other wants. And we’re both very good at giving space to the other. Like, “O.K., I’m not sure what you mean, but let’s explore that.” Rob’s one of my favorite collaborators, if not my favorite. Musically, what I’ve gotten to achieve with him is just kind of wild.

You and I are around the same age—twenty-nine.

[Laughs.] Yep . . .

And I wonder what this era of life—some people, not me, but some people might call it middle age—has felt like for you.

Kind of like graduating from a master’s program or something. Feeling a little old, a little aged out, a little like Chris Farley at the bottom of the hill in “Black Sheep” saying, “What in the hell was that all about?” Like I said, I think I’ve been reckoning a lot with times I haven’t been so great, or times I haven’t been able to be a good brother or family member. While I feel a little weary, I feel very young in another way, in the sense that I get a chance now not only to look back but to look forward. Kind of a refresh. Not a restart—these are forty-three-year-old bones. But I’m taking care of my body more. I’m taking care of my mental health more. And if I look back and see a lot of suffering in my past it’s because I wasn’t treating myself correctly. Certainly, I’ve had everything I’ve needed to be flourishing, to be a kind and loving person. But when I look back, I see a lot of confusion, anxiety, and despair. So I’ve gotten to this point now—and these songs have really helped me open that door, or whatever the metaphor is—to start a new journey and to be alive and present and grateful from now on, as much as I can be.

In one’s early forties, there’s often that feeling of, Oh, this isn’t quite what I thought was going to happen.

“Nothing’s really happened like I thought it would.” My best friend Trevor always refers to it as “the memory of the future.” When we were young, if our childhood was good, we project ourselves into a happy adulthood. You start to put pieces together, you start moving the furniture around. And then when you actually get there you realize you’ve been trying to steer toward that so hard that you kind of missed some shit, and it’s never gonna be like how it was. . . .

Sometimes we end up chasing these ideas from our childhoods, and they guide us for the rest of our lives, for better or worse.

I feel like we are barely driving. I look at it like you’re yanking on the wheel. You’re down below, by the gas and brakes. But that’s all we’ve got.

I can’t tell if that makes me feel helpless, or if it makes me feel empowered. Helpless in the sense of, “I’m not in control of this.” But it’s also freeing in the sense of, “I’m not in control of this.” Right?

Exactly. That is a freedom.

_The idea that life just follows some twisted path, like a river—

That’s been one of my favorite metaphors for life. The Daoist concept of the way of the water. Life is like a river, and if you don’t stay in the flow you’re gonna get stuck. You might get pulled under, you might be on shore or in a bend for too long. Or you can go down the river and drown, or flourish, or get to the Holy Land, or whatever. . . .

Who knows!

It’s multiple choice. Actually, it’s not multiple choice at all. Actually, not choice at all. Multiple possibilities.

“SABLE,” starts in a place of contrition, which is part of the process of becoming hopeful. But it ends in a moment of radical possibility.

Mm-hmm. It does. It’s that “almost” word again. It’s, like, we’re right almost there. Almost.

Maybe now the Almost feels less scary.

We’ve been through some things.

You made most of “i,i” at Sonic Ranch, in Texas, but “SABLE,” was recorded at April Base, your studio in Eau Claire. Do you work differently there than in other places?

Yeah. It’s been a big reflection point. It just so happened that April Base went under an intense renovation process right at the beginning of 2019, and that’s when we moved most of the stuff to Texas and set up there for almost a couple months. But then, when the record was done and we went on that tour, by that time, it was 2020. And then the pandemic happened and the studio was empty, so I had to move into this small house on the property and live there by myself. I kind of set up a makeshift studio. It was really a good experience, because I hadn’t set up my own gear in a long time.

The ritual of untangling the cables, plugging things in . . .

Oh, man, there was a point where I was, like, “I need to switch the screen so it’s over there.” It took me three days to untangle the cables. And I was, like, “This is good for me! This is really good for me.” But to answer your question about being out there: I think, for years—during the psychedelic mind-opening years, especially—everything was expanding quickly. Then, at a certain point, it started to feel a little stagnant. My social life, my creative and collaborative life . . . there was a circle and everything was inside of it. I hadn’t met a lot of new friends. I hadn’t really been in other studios. And so I think there’s been a little bit of action in the last couple years of, like, let me get out of here a little more.

And now you’re spending time in California. How does that feel?

Necessary.

All that sunshine.

I mean, holy hell. I am Wisconsin, through and through. But if I’m just there then what is April Base for? And what’s my love of Wisconsin for if I don’t have to come back to it? Also, it’s a little lonely out there. A lot of my family and my oldest friends have all moved away. And so I also haven’t had a lot of opportunity to meet new friends that weren’t somehow connected to the past—

Or to your work.

Or to my work. In L.A., it was just, “Hi, my name is Justin.” “Hi, my name is So-and-So.” “Do you want to be friends?” “This is great.” And I almost started crying when I realized—this is my first new friend, based on normal circumstances, in sixteen or seventeen years. That’s been a very positive thing. There’s a little anonymity for me, walking around. A lot of anonymity in Los Angeles, in particular. So it’s been very positive and challenging, in the best ways.

What you’re saying about making new friends in midlife—I get it, there’s a giddiness to it. It’s nice to meet new people now because we’re always changing, and here’s this newest, freshest iteration of you, and you get to present that to someone, instead of them inheriting a bunch of ideas.

You don’t have to open your book and be, “Who am I again? This is how I am? These are the things I believe in? Let me just make sure I get all that. . . .” You can just be. ♦

[x-populuxe]

First-lines-of-fic meme! I was tagged by @destinationtoast. 😘

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

So...I have published ten fics total, and rather than posting the first lines of every single one of them, I’m going to mix this up and do my five most recent as well as my five current WIPs, because I have somehow become a person with five substantially written WIPs, I cry. (This is clearly an attempt at public accountability, help lol).

All fics are X-Men, of course, and unless otherwise marked, Charles/Erik:

Published!

1. “to put the world between us” (25K words, actor AU)

The drive should take two hours, but Erik manages it in ninety minutes, using his powers to floor the gas pedal as he scrambles the occasional police scanner. When he whips into the hotel parking lot in a spray of gravel, Emma’s mental greeting is half is half warm, half weary.

2. “Unlived Histories (The Double Vision Remix)” (18K words, remix, time travel)

Erik didn’t know it then, but everything started to change on Charles’s sixteenth birthday.

3. “Correspondence” (13K words, part of a canon-divergent series set in 1963)

When Charles wakes, he stretches out his mind and then his arm, groping at the opposite side of the bed. Erik isn’t there, though the sheets are still warm.

4. “What We Inherit” (20K words, David & Charles, father-son bonding)

David first starts to suspect that something’s up when his father gets a phone call very early on Tuesday morning.

5. “the way it travels in and keeps emitting light” (29K words, accident and recovery, enemies to friends to lovers)

Erik lets himself into Raven’s building on Friday evening, waving a hand as the locks click open. As he rides the converted freight elevator up to the top floor, he sinks his powers into all those sturdy old pulleys and gears—one thing on the long list of reasons he prefers Raven’s apartment to his own.

WIPs!

(obviously these are not set in stone)

1. The “Charles bailing Erik out of jail” fic I am currently writing for @ikeracity for Fandom Trumps Hate! (Ike you get a sneak peek lol) (ps I'm legit obsessed with writing this fic rn, thank you again for your prompt):

 “One phone call” is only a thing in the movies—but the cops don’t give you unlimited phone calls, either. This turns out to be a problem when all your friends were either arrested alongside you or are completely fucking worthless.

2. Multiverse/time travel fic that begins 8 months after the events of XMFC:

They’re moving quickly through the woods that surround the facility when Emma slows and makes a clicking sound with her tongue. Erik holds out his arms to halt the rest of the group.

3. Sequel to “What We Inherit,” still about David & Charles, but also with some (semi-hostile) cherik as well:

It’s a beautiful late-summer day, with a bright blue sky stretching above the sandy dunes that extend from the house out towards the Atlantic.

But David can’t see any of that right now, because he’s sitting in his bedroom, reading a book.

4. Media AU (trust me, this first line makes sense in context lol):

DAVID REMNICK: This is The New Yorker Radio Hour. I’m David Remnick.

5. Big Billions AU I started writing in early 2020 🥲 that I’ve finally picked up again this year:

Crowds, the common wisdom goes, are one of the truest tests of a telepath’s strength and skill. Never mind that there’s far more to telepathy than brute force and blunt shielding—with a packed train or a busy bar or a stadium full of revelers, it’s easier to see just how effectively a person can block out other minds.

This is a fun exercise, especially to look at patterns! Tagging @rozf, @gerec, @ikeracity, @midrashic, @joshriku, @arcanewinter, @jackyjango, + anyone else who wants to do this! (If anyone else wants to put their WIP opening lines out there, join me!!!!)

[odinsblog]

A ban of the Chinese social-media app TikTok, first floated by the Trump Administration, is now gaining real traction in Washington.

Lawmakers of both parties fear the app could be manipulated by Chinese authorities to gain insight into American users and become an effective tool for propaganda against the United States. “Tiktok arrived in Americans’ lives in about 2018 . . . and in some ways it coincided with the same period of collapse in the U.S.-China relationship,” the staff writer Evan Osnos tells David Remnick.

“If you’re a member of Congress, you look at TikTok and you say, ‘This is the clearest emblem of my concern about China, and this is something I can talk about and touch.’ ” Remnick also talks with the journalist Chris Stokel-Walker—who has written extensively about TikTok and argued against a ban—regarding the global political backlash against the app. “I think we should be suspicious of all social media, but I don’t think that TikTok is the attack vector that we think it is,” he says. “This is exactly the same as any other platform.”

👉🏿 https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-new-yorker-radio-hour/id1050430296

[brightlotusmoon]

_

The era of the epic album:

As rock, folk, and country music grew in popularity so did the ambitions of its best practitioners to make impressive albums. In the mid-60s, after the artistic and commercial success of Bob Dylan’s Bringing It All Back Home, musicians began to respond to and compete with each other to make epic music. With Brian Wilson and The Beach Boys’ symphonic Pet Sounds, “pop” had entered the era of the album. By the late 60s, rock musicians who wanted to be thought of as bold, innovative, and artistic were concentrating on long-playing records, at a time when the singles market was hitting a plateau.

Just after the watershed year of 1967 – when stunning albums by The Beatles (Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band) and Jefferson Airplane (Surrealistic Pillow) were released – more and more bands jumped on the album bandwagon, realizing that the format gave them the space and time to create different and challenging sounds. The days of record labels wanting a constant production line of three-minute singles were disappearing. By 1968, singles were being outsold by albums for the first time, helped by the increase in production quality of high-fidelity stereo sound and the idea of the album as an artistic whole. The time spent making long-players changed from hours to weeks, or even months.

This also came at a time when journalism began to give rock music more considered attention. In February 1966, a student called Paul Williams launched the magazine Crawdaddy!, devoted to rock’n’roll music criticism. The masthead boasted that it was “the first magazine to take rock and roll seriously.” The following year, Rolling Stone was launched.

The birth of FM radio:

Another important turning point in the rise of the album had been a mid-60s edict from the Federal Communications Commission, which ruled that jointly owned AM and FM stations had to present different programming. Suddenly, the FM band opened up to rock records, aimed at listeners who were likely to be more mature than AM listeners. Some stations – including WOR-FM in New York – began allowing DJs to play long excerpts of albums. Stations across America were soon doing the same, and within a decade FM had overtaken AM in listenership in the US. It was also during this period that AOR (album-oriented radio) grew in popularity, with playlists built on rock albums.

This suited the rise of the concept album by serious progressive-rock musicians. Prog rock fans were mainly male and many felt that they were effectively aficionados of a new type of epic music, made by pioneers and artisans. The prog musicians believed they were trailblazers – in a time when rock music was evolving and improving. Carl Palmer, the drummer for Emerson, Lake & Palmer, said they were making “music that had more quality,” while Jon Anderson of Yes thought that the changing times marked the progression of rock into a “higher art form.” Perhaps this was the ultimate manifestation of “pop” becoming “rock.”

The avant-garde explosion:

Lyrics in many 70s albums were more ambitious than the pop songs of the 50s and 60s. Similes, metaphors, and allegory began to spring up, with Emerson, Lake & Palmer emboldened to use the allegory of a “weaponized armadillo” in one track. Rock bands, sparked perhaps by Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, seemed to be matching the avant-garde explosion in the bebop era: there was a belief in making albums more unified in theme but more disparate in sound.

In a June 2017 issue of The New Yorker, Kelefa Sanneh summed up the persistent popularity of this new genre by saying, “The prog-rock pioneers embraced extravagance: odd instruments and fantastical lyrics, complex compositions and abstruse concept albums, flashy solos and flashier live shows. Concert-goers could savor a new electronic keyboard called a Mellotron, a singer dressed as a bat-like alien commander, an allusion to a John Keats poem, and a philosophical allegory about humankind’s demise – all in a single song (“Watcher Of The Skies”) by Genesis.”

Genesis were one of the bands leading the way in terms of epic music...

_

[aaronburrsexdungeon]

Hamilton Hauntings

"There is a plaque at 82 Jane Street says that Hamilton died in that home. Bayard’s house was actually a block further north of the plaque. More details at the end.

Around the time that Hamilton became a smash hit, it was reported that paranormal activity really got stirred up at 71 Jane Street (which is across the street and a few houses east from plaque). The New Yorker Radio Hour sent Becky Cooper to a séance that attempted to raise Hamilton’s spirit. Since Joe Hamilton (no relation) bought the house in 1994, she and her family have experienced weird noises and crashes that were so loud to the point where they had to wear ear plugs. When Joe was remodeling the house, she was told to leave the plans out so that Hamilton could see them. Usually, you hear a lot of activity happening during the remodeling of a home. But in Joe’s case, she left the plans out and things were fine. Irene Connors, who owned the house before, believes that Alexander Hamilton’s ghost resided in her home. She actually saw a man with knee-length trousers, he was slim and wore a white powdered wig. She reportedly saw his face a few times."

[garudabluffs]

A Rise in Antisemitism Nov. 17, 2023

The State Department’s Special Envoy to Monitor and Combat Antisemitism, the historian Deborah Lipstadt, says the prejudice is coming “from all ends of the political spectrum, and in between.” It threatens not only Jews, she says, but the stability of democracies. Lipstadt and David Remnick discuss how antisemitic sentiments may overlap in complicated ways with political opposition to Israel, including anti-Zionism.  Plus, The New Yorker’s ideas editor speaks with Geoffrey Hinton, the computer scientist known as the godfather of A.I. Hinton pioneered neural networks, the artificial brains that power ChatGPT, for example.  Hinton is now sounding the alarm that the technology is or will soon be smarter than humans, and has the potential to make goals for itself that may not align with the goals we want for it.

LISTEN 16:19 https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/tnyradiohour/articles/a-rise-in-antisemitism-and-a-conversation-with-the-ai-pioneer-geoffrey-hinton

[wendyeve24]

Up To Heaven and Down To Hell

Chapter 4: Slow Ride

(The only warnings for this chapter is smut and mentions of Nate Jacobs near the end of this chapter. I also included some authors notes at the very end. I hope you enjoy!)

Lexi and Fezco were looking forward to their honeymoon, though they certainly weren't looking forward to such a long flight. The flight from Kentucky to The Poconos was approximately 6 hours. It wasn't too bad, but Lexi wasn't too pleased... especially since she had never even been on a plane before.

"You alright, ma?" Fezco asked as he rubbed his wife's back as she utilized the barf bag the stewardess had given her.

"No... it's such a wonderful time for me to find out I get motion sickness in the air..." Lexi said shakily.

"I'm sorry Lex, is there anything I can do?"

"No. There's nothing you can do. It's official... I've found Hell and it turns out it's in the sky." Lexi said weakly before her stomach churned again as they hit turbulence.

"Aw baby. I guess we in Hell together then." Fez said, still trying his best to cheer her up.

"I don't know, have you been throwing your guts up for the past five hours? If not, you don't understand my pain." She whined before more bile spewed out of her mouth and into the bag.

"It's alright Lexi." He comforted as he patted her back.

"I think this is it. I'm gonna die on a plane from puking so much." Lexi said.

"You ain't gonna die, ma. We only got less than an hour left, after we get off the plane I'll get you whatever you need for your stomach and then we'll take a cab to Penn Hills, check in and then relax for the rest of the night."

"Really?"

"Yeah Lex. Of course. Have I ever lied to you?" Fezco asked.

"Yes."

"Huh? When?"

"Before our flight. You said that flights are fun and relaxing, but it's been the complete opposite for me."

"Well baby... everybody's different." Fez said with a shrug before chuckling.

"Ugh." Lexi groaned again before her head was once again in the barf bag a second later.

Less than an hour left? Ha! She felt like she was on the world's longest flight that just wouldn't end.

Eventually, they arrived that night to the snow covered Poconos. They got their luggage, Lexi took an Alka Seltzer at the airport, the couple hailed a cab and were soon headed to Penn Hills.

Lexi was feeling a bit better, though she was exhausted. She took a nap for a while in the cab before waking up and looking out of the window of the cab and admired the snowy scenery.

"It's really beautiful here." She said with a smile.

"Yeah it is. Glad I dressed warm, shit... or else my ass would be frozen with all this snow falling." Fez said, his black fur coat thickly wrapped around him.

"Yeah it is pretty cold here. I hope the room is nice and warm." Lexi said as she shivered a little bit in her yellow hip length trench coat.

"C'mere baby." Fez said as he wrapped his arms around her after seeing her shiver.

"Mmm Fez... you're so warm... like a... like a bear." She said before chuckling.

"I just want my wife to be warm. Tell you what, when we get to Boston after our honeymoon, imma buy you a fur coat, ma."

Lexi's eyes widened in shock. She had never had a fur before, only rich people wore them... but she was married to a rich man now, so she supposed it would be fine.

"A-Are you sure?" Lexi asked.

"Hell yeah. I want my baby to have some nice shit. You get whatever you want Lexi. Besides, winters in Boston get fucking cold... colder than how cold it is here. You lucky I ain't a New Yorker, cause their winters are even worse." Fez said.

"Oh, I didn't know that..."

"Yeah."

The Cab driver's radio started playing Born To Be Wild by Steppenwolf.

"So, Fez?"

"Yeah baby?"

"After I clean myself up a bit... I was wondering if you wanted to help warm me up?" She asked as she drew circles with her index finger onto his fur coat covered chest.

Fez grinned at her.

"Of course I do Lex, you gonna be begging me for some ice to cool you down afterwards, ma." He said before kissing her.

Lexi couldn't help but giggle into the kiss after she heard him speak.

Eventually the cab arrived at Penn Hills and after checking in at the front desk, Fezco and Lexi were walking with their suitcases to their cozy cabin suite.

"I wish it wasn't such a long way to walk, I'm freezing." Lexi said.

"I know ma, we're almost there." Fez replied.

Sure enough they were a few feet away from their cabin, and they quickly rushed over to it.

Fezco got out the key and unlocked the door, carrying the suitcases in and he also turned the lights on as Lexi stepped inside, closing the door behind her and locking it.

"Oh thank God! Look! There's a fireplace!" Lexi pointed out as she gazed at it.

"Yeah. Lemme get that going." Fezco grabbed a few matches from his pants pocket that he had mostly used to light his cigarettes, and he lit a match and threw it onto the logs that were already in the fireplace. He then stoked the burgeoning flames with a nearby fire poker before setting it down.

The room was already starting to warm up, just what Lexi had wanted. It felt really nice. It looked really nice too.

The couple explored the room a bit.

The closet was spacious, the bathroom was huge and even had a heart-shaped bathtub complete with a mirror above it and halfway surrounding it. The bed was circular and had pedestals that held up a mirror above it. The room's ambience was very romantic and it made Lexi grin.

"Oh Fez, this place is absolutely perfect." She said happily as she hugged him.

"I'm glad you like it baby. Now, what do you say we play some music, get undressed, take a relaxing bath and see where all that takes us?" He suggested.

"You're a mind reader Fezco O'Neill." Lexi said with a chuckle as she kissed his cheek.

Fez went over to the radio in the room and started turning the dial to get some music playing in the room while Lexi took her clothes off and went over to the tub that she was busy filling up with water and Avon Bubble Bath.

Fez took off his clothes as well and finally found a good radio station that was starting to play Ready For Love by Bad Company.

Fez helped Lexi into the bathtub and he himself got in as well. They held each other in their warm bubbly bathtub and Lexi sighed contentedly.

"I'm so happy." Lexi said as she gazed up at Fez.

"I'm glad, baby. There's so much more we're gonna do together on this trip." He replied as he started to scrub her back.

She sighed a contented sigh and after he was done cleaning her, she did the same for him.

"How about we get out now? We don't wanna get all pruned up." Lexi suggested as she looked at Fez.

"Of course, ma. Though you'd still be sexy even if you were all pruned up." Fez said.

Lexi giggled before Fez picked her up out of the tub suddenly, causing her laughter to increase as he chuckled.

They dried each other off and made their way to the circular bed, and laid down on it while talking to each other.

"That fight you got into at the luncheon..." Lexi started.

"I know Lex. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so wild and embarrass you, ma. But that motherfucker said some real unsavory shit about you and I had to kick his ass."

"I understand Fez. Thank you for defending me. And for the record you didn't embarrass me. You managed to show me how you defend someone that you... that you..." Lexi trailed off.

"Care about? Yeah. It's alright ma, you can say it. Cause it's true. I care about you Lexi."

Lexi was almost speechless before she spoke up as if on impulse.

"I care about you too Fez."

Fez smiled before kissing his wife.

Lexi kissed him back, but within her head she couldn't stop thinking about how hot Fez looked as he beat the crap out of Nate and Aaron. She then got an idea.

"Oh!" She cried out suddenly as she sat up.

"What? What is it ma? Did I hurt you?" Fez asked frantically as he also sat up.

"No Fez. I'm fine. But... I think my bracelet fell off in the lobby. I just noticed."

"Oh, want me to go and get it for you?" He asked.

"Can you?"

"Yeah sure, anything for you Lex. Lemme put my clothes back on and I'll go look for it in the lobby, it ain't far."

"Thank you Fez."

"You're welcome, and when I get back... we gon' finish what we were about to start baby. Imma need you to warm me up after I get out of the cold." He said with a smirk after he got up and started putting his boxers on, his pants, his shirt and sweater back on before stepping into his shoes and putting his fur coat back on.

"Oh I certainly will... hurry back baby." Lexi replied as she leaned in for a kiss, that Fez lovingly laid on her lips.

"Stay right there sexy, don't move an inch while I'm gone." Fez said with a smile before he left the room.

Lexi went over to the window, peeking through the pink curtains and watching her husband walk to the lobby, the snow crunching under his shoes as he walked away from their cabin.

Lexi knew she didn't lose a bracelet, she hadn't worn any bracelets that day. As her husband disappeared out of sight, she knew she had to work fast.

She went over to her suitcase and pulled out the blue gift bag that Rue had given her at the luncheon. She took the contents out of it and looked at herself in the nearby mirror that surrounded the heart-shaped tub.

"Alright... now, how do I put this on?" She wondered aloud as she held up the bra that would show her nipples and the crotchless panties.

After a bit of trial and error, she figured it out. Her nipples on display, out of the bra's cups. She had gently played with her own nipples curiously, which only made them perkier. Her pussy and bare lower lips were on display in between to scant pieces of white lacy fabric. It looked as if her pussy was playing peekaboo, and upon looking at herself in the mirror it made her blush and giggle. She turned around and looked at herself a bit more, even her asshole was on display, and that made her blush even more.

Lexi admired herself in the mirror and grinned before she spanked her own ass teasingly and hiding the gift bag back in her suitcase.

"Great job Rue and Maddy." She muttered to herself with a grin.

Her mind wandered to Fez, she knew he'd be back at any minute... but... the image in her mind of him using all of his strength to beat up the Jacobs Brothers at the luncheon... it flooded her mind.

Lexi sat on the circular bed and laid down before she started to touch herself. She groped her tits before licking her fingers and rubbing her clit and inserting her fingers into her pussy. She felt her own wetness as she threw her head back and moaned.

She couldn't help but pick up the pace a bit before moaning again.

"Fezco! Yes!" She cried out, full on fucking herself with her fingers, before tapping her own clit with her wet fingers, making herself shiver with arousal.

"Fuck..." She said, her whole being was taken over by arousal, lust and need for her big strong husband.

She then decided that she wanted him to bring her to orgasm... not that playing with herself wasn't fun... but it wasn't the same.

Lexi sat up and sucked her own fingers before getting up and turning the radio off and getting out a vinyl record that she wanted to play.

She put it on and cranked up the volume before looking out of the window from behind the curtains... Fez was a few feet away from the cabin door.

Lexi smiled and closed the curtains back before kneeling on the bed sensually as Crazy On You by Heart blasted throughout the room.

Fez unlocked the door and came in. He saw his wife on the bed and he almost stopped in his tracks.

"Welcome back Fez." Lexi greeted with a smile.

"Oh, so you a fuckin' minx now, is that it? I had a feeling that bracelet thing was bullshit... and turns out I was right, but you just needed me to get the fuck out because you wanted to dress up for me... shit... you look fuckin' amazing Lexi O'Neill." Fez said as he closed the door and locked it.

He immediately started to strip off his clothes.

"You know who really looked fucking amazing... no, really fucking sexy... you did... when you were kicking ass at the luncheon. I was so turned on seeing that... that I... I did something naughty while you were out."

Fez was now naked as he approached the bed.

"Oh? And what'd you do baby?"

"I touched myself. I thought of you and how strong and sexy you are and I touched myself."

Fez was almost breathless.

"Ooh baby... you more naughty than I thought you were." He said as he started to stroke his cock as he got closer to her.

"Yeah, and Fez?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm in charge tonight. So... I want you on your back... open your mouth. I saw how strong your arms and hands are... but I wanna see how strong your tongue is." Lexi said in a low and sensual voice.

Fezco only felt his cock twitch and get harder as he gazed at his wife, the music definitely matching her current wanton behavior... and he loved it.

"Your wish is my command, baby." He said obediently with a smile as he laid down on the bed on his back, his mouth open as Lexi crawled up to his face and took a seat, moaning as she felt his tongue lapping at her wet folds.

"Oh honey!" Lexi cried out as she slid herself against his tongue.

Fez ate as if he were a man eating his last meal and as if he were a man on a mission.

Lexi brought herself on and off of her husband's tongue as she threw her head back, moaning loudly.

Fezco kept at it until Lexi started to shiver with arousal before she finally came, her toes curling as she met her release.

"Fez!"

He took a few more licks before sliding out from underneath her pussy.

"Oh baby, that was so fuckin' hot. You real fearless Lex."

"Thank you Fez." She said breathlessly before he kissed her.

"No need to thank me baby... now, let's see how many times you can orgasm like that in one night." He said with a smirk as he got on top of her.

Before the night was over, Lexi's sexy underwear had been thrown somewhere across the room, the mirrors surrounding and above the bed had fogged up and Fez was sure that his wife could definitely be pregnant at this point... if not now then definitely after he made his last few thrusts of the night.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum!"

"Yes! Oh Fez yes! Fill me up!" Lexi begged as she felt her billionth orgasm of that night happen to her.

Fez groaned loudly as he thrust himself deeply into Lexi, feeling his seed shoot out from his cock once again that night.

Lexi had her fingers between her legs, rubbing her clit as he took his last few thrusts and she had her last orgasm of the night and came hard as soon as she felt the tip of his cock hit her cervix.

"Ah! Shit! Lexi! Fuck!" Fez cried out as he felt himself finally go limp inside of her after he came. He stayed inside of her however as he caught his breath.

"Oh my god! Fez..." Lexi trailed off breathlessly as she laid there, her legs still spread but her knees up to her shoulders.

Fez turned them both over onto their side facing one another because he didn't want to pull out.

"That was absolutely-"

"Fucking amazing." Fez finished her sentence, and she didn't even mind at that point.

"Yeah. Uh why are you not pulling out of me yet?" She asked as she gazed at him in the dark. Their only light source at that particular part of the night was the still raging fireplace.

"I just came inside of you so damn much if I pull out now our whole cabin is gonna be flooded with cum. Besides, you still want a baby... don't you?" He asked as he brushed a sweaty strand of hair from her forehead.

Lexi giggled before crinkling her nose in disgust at the image of the entire cabin being flooded with her husband's cum. Upon hearing his question, she smiled and nodded.

"Yes, I do still want a baby. And honestly... you came inside of me so much I'm sure at least one of those times has gotten me pregnant already." Lexi said as she gently and lovingly placed her palm onto Fez's cheek.

He smiled at her lovingly and planted a kiss on her palm.

"If not, we still have oh... seven more days to make sure I'll be going home with you to Boston carrying your baby in me, Fezco."

"And if not, well... I ain't ever made no babies in Boston before, but if I don't knock you up here in the Poconos... well shit... there's a first time for everything, ma."

"We'll see baby, we'll see..." Lexi said before drifting off to sleep, sweaty and naked but content in her husband's arms.

Fez followed her to sleep immediately afterwards, the warm feeling of her against him and him still being buried inside of her along with the calming crackle of the fireplace, put him to sleep.

The next few days of their honeymoon... they hardly left their cabin... it was just too cold outside for either of them. They would leave their cabin on the fifth day of their honeymoon to do a few activities that Penn Hills had to offer during the day, like indoor roller skating...

"Oh come on Fez! It's easy, it's like walking but on skates!"

"I swear to God, if I fall and bust my ass with these things on my feet..."

"It's okay! Come on baby!" Lexi encouraged Fez as he clumsily skated towards her.

"That's it! You're doing great!"

"Lexi, I think imma fall!" Fez said with a freaked out look.

"No you're not gonna fall, you're doing great."

"Nah, I feel fucking lopsided. This don't feel right. I'm gonna go roll my ass back to those benches."

"Oh come on Fez! At least try to rollerskate? For me?" Lexi begged with a smile.

"Fine... I can never say no to my girl." He replied as he skated towards her.

"See you've got it! Now just pick up speed." She instructed.

"Shit... okay." He started picking up a bit of speed with his rollerblades before he slipped and fell back on his own ass.

"Fuck!"

Lexi couldn't help but laugh a bit before skating over to him and trying to help him up.

"Shit! My ass hurts and you're laughing!? Oh Hell nah, c'mere Lex." He said jokingly, taking faux offense to her laughter before he pulled her down with him.

"No! Fez no! Oh we were both doing so well but you just had to take me down with you!" She said between hard laughs as she now sat in his lap.

Fez couldn't help himself but laugh too. The situation was hilarious because now they'd have to crawl their way back to the benches... and that's exactly what they did.

"I can't believe I had to crawl back to the benches with you, Fez!"

"Yeah well, believe it because you made me try skating out in the first place." He teased.

"Alright alright, I guess I deserved that." Lexi replied as they both finally reached the benches and sat down, taking their skates off.

You Make Loving Fun by Fleetwood Mac played over the speakers of the rollerskating venue, the music was echoing quite a bit but it still managed to set a romantic mood.

Lexi leaned against him, staring out at the somewhat busy rollerskating venue.

"I don't think I've ever been this happy." She admitted to him.

Fez smiled at her before kissing her forehead.

"I'm so fucking glad to make you happy, ma. Shit, after seeing how your sister treats you and how your mom ain't really payin' you no attention, you really deserve someone in your life to make you happy... and I'm glad that I'm that person Lexi."

Lexi grinned at him, her eyes had a sad look in them.

"I... I don't know how to thank you Fez... I've always been that person in the background letting life go on as everyone focuses on Cassie, even I focused on her a lot. She's... difficult. And I was just... so tired, but you... you're giving me life again, you're... revitalizing me. And I love that and... I wanna do the exact same for you, I wanna be your solace because Fezco I-"

"I love you too Lexi."

Lexi was speechless yet again.

He loves her, and she loves him... she was absolutely floating right now.

"Fez, oh my god. I love you so much." Lexi replied as she smiled tearfully as she sniffled.

"Aw, ma... why're you cryin' huh?"

"These are happy tears." Lexi answered with a chuckle as Fez pulled her in for a hug before kissing her.

They stayed like that for a while, before coming up for air.

"Hey... you wanna get some lunch?" He asked.

"Yeah. Let's go." She replied with a nod as they picked up their shoes from the roller rink clerk, put them back on and went over to the dining room of the resort where the smell of burgers, hot dogs, sandwiches, deli meats, fish, shrimp, cheeses, soups, fries, and fresh ice cream sundaes wafted into the air and into their nostrils.

"So, are you still worried about your sister?" Fez asked as he got a tray for himself and Lexi and started to get a burger and fries.

"Of course I am. She's just the type that you worry about because she's just so-"

"Fragile?"

"No... stupid." Lexi answered as she got a fruit cup, a sandwich, a shrimp cocktail and a bowl of minestrone soup.

Fez couldn't help himself but laugh.

"Woah Lex. You callin' your big sister stupid?"

"Yeah, I am. Because it's true. She's not the brightest bulb in the pack, Fez. Not only that but she's very dramatic, as you yourself saw."

"Yeah. Are you... glad you're away from all of that or...?"

"Of course I'm glad I'm away from all of that. I've had to put up with her forever, and as the years passed she just got... worse. Honestly if I hadn't married you, I'd have probably runaway from home."

"Well baby, you're my wife now. Ain't no running away from home for you." He said reassuringly with a smile before she grinned at him.

"I know, and if you're home I'm not running away." She replied as they both sat down and dug into their lunch happily.

They had a quickie in their heart-shaped bathtub a few hours after arriving back into their room, and Fez had a surprise for Lexi.

He told her to wear something fancy, and she put on her best dress, it was a black dress with slightly puffy sleeves.

Before she left the bathroom she could hear music. She left the bathroom and found the room to be dark but lit by candlelight and the fireplace, rose petals on the floor, a table for two near the window, a bottle of champagne in the small ice bucket, two champagne glasses, two seats across from each other and menus sitting on the table.

Lexi gasped. It was so beautiful and so romantic.

Fez stood up, wearing a fresh suit with a grin on his face as Stand By Me by Ben E. King played on the record player in their cabin.

"We got only two more days, so I thought why not surprise my baby with a romantic dinner." He said with a grin and a shrug.

"Oh Fez. It's beautiful, I love it. Oh I love you." She said as she approached him and hugged him before kissing him.

After the kiss was broken, he pulled her chair out for her and she sat down, he sat across from her. He reached over and held her hand, looking into her eyes.

"You know, if we weren't already married I'd have proposed to you already... probably with a fancy dinner like this." He said.

"That's so sweet, and I definitely would have said yes."

"And I'd have passed out if you said yes." He joked.

It took a few moments but the champagne cork finally popped and they drank a bit before ordering their food over the rotary phone in their cabin after looking at the menu.

"Wanna dance?" Lexi asked.

"Aw Lex, you know I'm not a good dancer."

"Baby, it's just us here. No one else... literally."

"Alright." Fez stood up and took Lexi's hand. She stood up and they both danced together, he held her in his arms and they simply let the romantic sound of Stand By Me overtake them as they swayed along to the sound of the orchestra in the song.

For Lexi, this was like a dream... a dream she didn't know she had needed to live out until now.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. It was the resort waiter with their food.

"Good evening Mr. and Mrs. O'Neill. I'm Sam and I'll be your waiter for this evening. I have your dinner orders on this here tray. I have the lobster thermidor with a cobb salad... and I have the garlic butter lamb chops with glazed carrots. And for dessert, courtesy of Penn Hills, our bakers made this decadent German Black Forest cake for you." The waiter said as he entered the room.

"Oh wow that sounds delicious. Thank you." Fez said before handing him a generous tip.

"Yes, thank you." Lexi said with a smile as the plates of food were laid out onto the table.

Sam chuckled before grinning nervously.

"Oh no, thank you." He said as he looked at the two hundred dollar bills he had been given as he left the room, closing the door behind him.

"He must not get tipped well, huh?" Lexi said.

"Yeah probably cause he's a weird dude. I ain't ever seen a weird grin like that before."

Lexi giggled before digging into her lobster thermidor as Fez dug into his lamb chops.

After dinner and dessert, Lexi and Fez couldn't keep their hands off of each other and ended up making love that night on into the morning until sleep overcame them for a brief moment before the rotary phone in their room rang.

"I got it ma, go back to sleep." Fez said before he picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Mr. O'Neill?"

"Yeah, who's calling?"

"It's BB from the front desk here in Penn Hills, we're connecting a long distance call from Hawaii from a Ms. Maddy Perez. Would you like to take the call? It'll cost $3.00."

"Yeah I'll take the call."

"Perfect, I'm patching you over now."

The phone rang on the other line and Fez gently shook Lexi awake.

"Lex, wake up."

"Huh? What is it Fez? And please don't wake me up for sex, I'm exhausted." Lexi whined.

"No baby, Maddy is calling from Hawaii. It's a long distance call."

Upon hearing that, Lexi sat up in bed with a surprised look on her face.

"What?"

Then the line connected.

"Hello? Are you guys there? I fucking hate long distance calls, this shit is gonna cost me three bucks." Maddy complained.

"Maddy, hey! Yeah we're here, we can hear you." Fez replied.

"Great, is Lexi there?"

"Yeah she right here. You wanna talk to her?"

"Hey Maddy!" Lexi said.

"Hey! Uh I wanted to talk to both of you guys if that's okay."

"Yeah Mad, go ahead." Lexi replied.

"Great! So, you know how we're all here in Hawaii to convince Cassie to get the fuck away from Nate? Well... he convinced her to end their honeymoon early so they can go to Cincinnati so he can get her settled into his huge swanky fucking mansion." Maddy said angrily.

"What!? W-Wait! Are you telling us that you, Ethan and Kat are there in Hawaii but Cassie and Nate left their own honeymoon early?" Lexi asked.

"That's exactly what I'm fucking saying. I tried to get through to her the second day she was here and she straight up ignored me! I don't know what kind of weird shit he pulled on her but she's completely shut everyone out! I tried my damn hardest with her, so did Ethan and so did Kat! Hell, even Rue and Jules called all the way from Kentucky to try to get your sister away from him and she still wouldn't listen! Then come to find out, I didn't see them at all the next few days, so y'know I thought okay they must be fucking in their hotel room, but I go to the hotel front desk to ask about the Jacobs reservation just last night... and you won't fucking believe what the front desk lady told me!"

"What'd she tell you?" Fez asked.

"That Cassie and Nate left the second night they were here!"

"What the fuck!?" Lexi yelled.

"They fucking left that night you were trying to help Cassie!? Why the fuck would they only have a two day honeymoon? What kinda sense does that make?" Fez asked in a bewildered tone.

"Control. He's fucking controlling her. They fucked off back to Cincinnati and he's probably got her dressed up like his very own sex doll in his mansion."

Lexi shook her head and got out of bed. This was all too much.

"I swear to God imma beat his smarmy ass to a pulp." Fez said.

"Fez... no. That's not needed in a situation like this... it'll only make her want to be with him further... actually, it might have caused her to end her own honeymoon with him early." Maddy said.

"Shit... you're right. He's such a goddamn weirdo!"

"Right? Well listen, I gotta go before this place charges me an arm and a leg for being on the phone long distance. Kat, Ethan and I are flying back today, check out time is in... shit! A few minutes! I gotta go, but I hope you both have a great rest of your honeymoon, and I'll see you both soon!" Maddy exclaimed.

"Alright, see you soon! Lex is in the bathroom but she'll see you all soon too!"

"Sounds good! Bye!" Maddy said before hanging up.

Fez hung up the phone and got out of bed, knocking on the bathroom door.

"Baby? You good in there?"

He then heard a retching noise and a few minutes later the door opened after the toilet flushed.

"You okay?"

"Yeah... I'm fine. That was all just... too much. That and... I think I might have a touch of food poisoning."

"Aw baby, want me to get you some Pepto-Bismol? Some Tums? Some ginger-ale? You got the bubble guts?" He asked concerned.

"No, I'll be fine... I think... Fezco... I think in order to calm my nerves... we might need to-"

"Go home? Visit your sister maybe? See how she's doing?"

"Yeah. But... I wanna go to Boston first. And get settled in with you. I'm sure that'll take my mind off of things." Lexi suggested.

Fezco nodded, he understood.

"Alright. I'll call the front desk and tell them that we're checking out a day early. Imma definitely recommend this place to people though, but for the summer... cause winters here are cold as shit." He said as he started calling the front desk as Lexi popped an Alka Seltzer with water to settle her stomach.

"You doing okay baby?" Fez asked.

"I'll do better once we're on land and not airborne." Lexi said weakly.

"Yeah I know, next time we'll drive. I promise." Fez said as he rubbed his wife's arm.

"We'd better." Lexi replied to her husband before throwing up in the barf bag again.

The pilot then spoke up on the intercom.

"Hello, this is your pilot speaking. We are currently ten minutes away from Boston folks, and we hope everyone has had a great flight so far... and we hope that the woman tossing her cookies in seat 23A will feel better once we land. Anyways, thank you for flying Pan-Am!"

Lexi groaned into the bag, wanting to hide as Fez rubbed her back comfortingly. She couldn't wait to get to Boston...

(A/N: Also a few interesting things about this chapter: - Penn Hills Resort in the Poconos was a real honeymoon resort that unfortunately got abandoned in the 2010s and has been subjected to vandalism, a murderer squatting there and a huge fire that unfortunately burned quite a few of the buildings belonging to the once popular resort. You can view pictures of the abandoned Penn Hills resort online, along with the history of Penn Hills and it's sad demise into the annals of history and you can see their old 70s and 80s commercials on YouTube as well. I highly recommend googling Penn Hills and reading up on it's history.

- Pan-Am the airlines that Fez and Lexi use in this chapter was extremely popular in the 70s but unfortunately went on the decline by the time the 80s came around and ended up shutting down a bit later on. Go Google Pan-Am Airways, they’re pretty iconic in retro America so I also highly recommend googling Pan-Am Airways and their history since this may not be the last time we see Pan-Am Airways showing up in this fic.

- To all my younger readers (I myself am a young writer in my 20s), no one not even myself will remember a time where you had to pay per hour on a long distance call on a rotary phone or a payphone, but it was the norm back in the 70s. In some places I read that it would cost at least $2.00 an hour or it could even cost 75 cents per hour. I saw an article where someone in the 70s complained about the price to call long distance and said they also "Needed money for gas." (Which I totally don't blame them!) Another fun fact, there was a gas shortage in the 70s, so go figure!

- And last but not least, this chapter was difficult to write simply because of the fact that there's not a lot of stuff about the fun things that went on during the heyday of Penn Hills when it was still in operation. Instead nowadays, you'll find a bunch of pictures of a sad and empty vandalized resort that hasn't seen customers for nearly a decade or more.)

[so-much-for-subtlety]

I’m simultaneously watching gay porn, and listening to new yorker radio hour interview with Salman Rushdie which feels like the *least* Super Bowl Sunday type activity I could be doing.