#This post brought to you by the Paradise Towers comic.

[thefaeriefeatherdark]

Unalive isn't enough everyone should start saying Icehot and Build High for Happiness too.

[gridlords]

Best comics / publications of 2017

Foreword:

This last year at Gridlords we didn’t make a 2016 Best of the Year post. The four of us all had various life alterations, things pulling us in other directions and time was thin. There certainly was a heavy amount of great books in 2016 and we regret not shining light on them.

We were maybe not going to put the time in this year either, but I, “the Sean part” of Gridlords, am inspired. I perused the other lists online, at first for the general selfish reasons, i.e. "Did my little graphic novel get in anywhere?" and "Did any Gridlords books get praise?" (Our own Dylan Jones got mention is the Best American comics anthology)

Everyone's lists I saw were nearly identical: almost no self-published material on any of the lists, and even small press had almost no representation.

In the worst case I saw Vice's list. I shouldn't have even looked. It's my assumption that the comics “editor” of Vice is insecure and deflecting the reality that they are a slow reader or read little at all despite working for a magazine. It could also be that their reputation has caught up with them and they are not getting comics submitted to them so often anymore, so all that are listed are those few alumni that parted on good terms and a few superhero rags of old. I doubt they go out of their way for material past what is put under their noses for free.

Either way leave it to them to be needlessly offensive with their defensive personalities. Calling them anything else would only get them off. Boring.

This brought me to remember what it's all about for Gridlords. We like to show love for all the great artists out there doing their own thing and making wild beauty and throwing the cookie cutter out the window. We like artists who make passionate works that are personal and aren’t looking for some commercial responsibility. We at Gridlords also like to shine a light on exciting work that maybe didn’t make much noise beyond its home origin or didn’t have a print run of more than 10 and we got lucky and nabbed one.

I am not solely covering comics and never have in previous years as comics isn't solely what Gridlords is about. Some are art books, zines, and art objects and an occasional music release that if you look into it you’ll see it all makes sense. But I’ll start with comics just to correct the wrong of Vice. A side note: there are so many publications from 2017 that I wish I'd gotten my hands on that I haven’t yet. These are the best of what I got.

I implore that you copy and search for these artists for future releases and get what you can of these. Many are online via the various channels. Support those you love.

In no order

Jazz comics - Jason T. Miles (goat comics)

Marcie is still worried - Liz Yerby (self published)

Sleepy thoughts (words and drawings forced out before sleep. Never intended to be seen by other eyes) all 5 issues - Spencer Scudder (self published)

Drifter - Anna Haifisch (perfectly acceptable press)

Farmer Ned’s Comics Barn - Gerald Jablonski (FU comics)

Wet Earth - Lala Albert (Sonatina)

Tears of the Toad - Nick Norman (self published)

Journal of Smack - Andrea Lukic (I don't have issue 1 and if any of you have an extra or know where I can get one let me know :) )

Ne’er - Do - Wellers - by Mark Beyer

Cecil’s Riddles - Jason Murphy (STiLLiFE)

Easy Rider - Jaakko Pallasvuo

Wrestling - Johanna’s comics (Colorama)

Gaylord Pheonix 7&8 - Edie Fake (Perfectly Acceptable / Pegacorn Press)

Mr. Colostomy - Matthew Thurber (self published)

Locals only - Ian Sundahl (self published)

Art comic issues 4&5 - Matthew Thurber 

Super Towers - edited by Vincent Fritz (self published)

Give and take - Milena Bassen (Colorama)

The Nearest Sea - Scott Longo 

Town - Chou Yi (self Published)

Garbage Can Faerie - Wure (Bred Press)

Songy of Paradise - Gary Panter (Fantagraphics)

Freakers unltd issue 3 vol1 (Ddoogg)

Held - Spencer Scudder (self Published)

Should I enjoy my life or not - Jon Michael Frank (self published)

Tack Piano Heaven one - Christopher Adams (self published)

Spine - Noel Friebert (Bred Press)

An Exorcism - Theo Ellsworth (Kus)

Soft city - Hariton Pushwagner 

The whole year subscription from Ron Rege! Absolute delight!!! Especially reprints of Andy Remembers. (self published)

Now art books and Zines

Susias - a screen printed art anthology of Queer, Latinx, and womxn artists curated by Chloe Perkis

Cragslist Free - an art zine of cragslist free photos curated with a mindful eye by Maura Campbell Balkits

Suburban Lawns - collected print material about the band by artist Justine Reyes (a brilliant zine publisher making some if the best stuff)

Bathtime - art by Brie Moreno

Life is a fucking scam - an anxiety freakout zine by Karissa Sakumoto

Yung Zine volume #1 issues 1-6 2013-2015 by Kenna Jean (love these so much)

Best is man’s breath quality - book made of performance by Sara Magenheimer. (A real inspiration)

Love wins (2017 issue un-numbered. Tim Goodyear writes a letter in it that got me in tears and Jason Miles’s art is really phenomenal & life affirming here)

Sleep Walk - Yasuke Nagaoka (so beautiful)

Cafe Avatar - essay & graphic art by Sonnenzommer, Nick Butcher & Nadine Nakanishi with Perfectly Acceptable Press (super thoughtful with breathtaking print)

Reference Material - Lasse Wandschneider ( a dreamy collection of Lasse’s hand in pencil)

Eat me to become you - Jeffrey Kriksciun published with Slow Editions (one of my favorite pink art zines ever)

Vanity of Vanities, all is vanity - Adrienne Kammerer published with Color Code. (One of my new favorite glamorous artists and one of my favorite ever publications)

Visions of the Future - Stefhany Y. Lozano publushed by Colorama (I still can’t believe this is real!)

Accursed - Daria Tessler published with Perfectly Acceptable press (easily one of the most insane print productions of the year. Bells on spine/die-cut metallic ink cover/ riso multi-color madness)

Kat Rose untitled hand drawn & colored zine edition of 1 each (cutest ever)

Raw Velocity - Matt Lock published with Woodchips Books ( tattered futurism, an incredible ride)

Broken Trash Angel - x by Wure published by Justine Reyes (yes the same one who made the Suburban Lawns zine I KNoW INCREDIBLE!!!)

Nezha was here - Yusuke Nagaoka (delicious art)

Eileen Chavez - untitled comics & painting sketchbook collection. (A real dream!)

Out The Window - by Jess Scott ( million drawings in Jess’s hand busting through and occasionally lounging in windows. A real passionate inspiration to take control of one’s life)

Okay these 2 are from 2016 but are important art books!!!

Suellen Rocca - retrospective via Mathew Marks Gallary (I am madly in love with her work. So madly!)

The Drawings of Susan te Kahurangi King - published with the Institute of Contemporary Art Miami (got some words from Gary Panter about Susan’s great work)

some music that has ties to visual art I love:

MR. Wrong

https://mrwrongwitches.bandcamp.com/album/babes-in-boyland

waveform transmission

https://astralindustries.bandcamp.com/album/ai-08-v-20-29

woolen men

https://woolenmen.bandcamp.com/album/lucky-box

strategy

https://geographicnorth.bandcamp.com/album/the-infinity-file

Eric Copeland

https://ericcopeland.bandcamp.com/album/goofballs

Odwalla88

https://odwalla1221.bandcamp.com/album/lilly-23

Mega Bog

https://megabog.bandcamp.com

beat detectives

https://beat-detectives.bandcamp.com/album/nypd-records-volume-one

Baronic wall

https://baronicwall.bandcamp.com/album/paracrystaline-domains

Felicia Atkinson

https://feliciaatkinson.bandcamp.com/album/hand-in-hand

Matt Carlson

https://shelterpress.bandcamp.com/album/the-view-from-nowhere

v1984

https://v1984.bandcamp.com

vi rei

https://virei.bandcamp.com

Giant Claw

https://giantclaw.bandcamp.com/album/soft-channel

elevator teeth

https://superdarkrecords.bandcamp.com/album/elevator-teeth

Macula Dog

https://haord.bandcamp.com/album/natural-dog-ep

elrond

https://elrond.bandcamp.com/releases

Mike Cooper

https://room40.bandcamp.com/album/raft

wagon 70s Floyd life

https://colossaltapes.bandcamp.com/album/70s-floyd-lite-c36

Love

Gridlords

Sean

[believe-that-you-can-my-friend]

totallynerdstuff

replied to your post

“In the mood of writing more bughead soooo… hit me with your prompts?...”

First of all thank you so much for creating such amazing stories! I'd love to read a story involving prom/ school dance. Betty wants to go with Jughead but he's not crazy about the idea of going to a school event like that.

Hope you like it, dear!! Thank you for your lovely words and for requesting!! 

“No.”

“But, Juggie—”

“Betty, I said no.”

A childlike pout adorned the blonde’s luscious pink lips as she dropped her back on her leather seat at Pop’s, the action filling the silence with an icky squish sound. The conversation was pretty much going on and on like that since she had entered the small dinner and sat next to her beloved boyfriend, who these past days wasn’t so beloved but seemed to drive her to the wall with his stubbornness and his nonexistent desire of earning any social skills. At this point Betty was either gonna give up or smother his ridiculously handsome face with that laptop of his, that had his attention the whole hour she was trying to change his mind.

Topic of conversation: Riverdale High’s 20s decade dance. The whole school was filled with a gazillion of posters and excitement was pouring from every corridor of their high school, as this themed dance was a first time thing and very much anticipated. Needless to say, the Jones boy was grumpy and easily irritable this whole week that the preparations had reached their zenith. He didn’t quite get the big deal; it was just another event added to their long list of pep-rallies and jubilees, this being even worse, because it demanded attire from some too far gone golden era. Yeah, Jughead, wasn’t going to attend that.

However, the blonde bubbly beauty that prided in calling his girlfriend was indeed a total stereotypical teenage girl when coming to being all dolled up for such events. He knew of course that she had a soft spot for ruffle dresses and shimmery bobby pins but he didn’t quite expect the shine, genuine shine, her lovely eyes radiated once the theme of the dance had been announced. From that day on, she was constantly bombarding him with subtle hints at first but when she lost her patience and boldly asked him, earning a simple yet fierce negative answer in return, the blonde menace had tried on him every trick of her sweetness and seduction 101, in hopes to have him putty in her hands as always. It was indeed a hell week for Jughead.

“Juggie…” she tried again, her voice cotton candy sweet and soft, and rubbed herself deliciously on her boy’s side, letting her fingers dance over the strands of hair that were left uncovered from his crown-like beanie at the back of his neck, knowing that this was one of his favorite touches of affection. Jughead closed his eyes momentarily, still facing the screen, and bit his lip not to scoff or, worst, give in. She wanted desperately to make him break, he knew that much, but he had taken a vow that this time, he wouldn’t let her have her way.

“C’mon all our friends will be there and it’ll be so much fun!” the excitement in her tone was genuine and her smile bright. “You can put in use those suspenders that you always have falling over your sides too.” Betty giggled, fiddling playfully with the said item, only for Jughead to lightly slap her hand away without sparing her a glance. “Plus I’m sure there’ll be tons of finger food lying around.” She was starting to lose hope again but decided to play the food card as a last minute’s resource.  He didn’t even flinch and that brought back the pout on her lips.

“You said so yourself; finger food. That’s not even real food.” Jughead mused with no interest at all, continuing with his typing. He knew that if he stopped, he would be forced to look into her eyes and, boom, that would be his undoing and, button line, self-inclined torture. “Plus, I’m sure spiked punch will be the only dominant thing around and seriously, discourteous jocks with more alcohol in their system than blood sugar is not my idea of fun, sorry.” He ranted in his usual apathetic manor, pressing a full-stop hard in coordination with the end of his sentence to underline his point of ‘yes, I’m standing my ground here’, before casually taking a sip of his coffee.

Betty was just there shaking her head in a ridiculous manner at how unoriginal he sounded, having untangled herself from him from the moment he started his rebellious statements, and she curled her arms over her chest stubbornly.

“Why are you making it this hard?” she exclaimed in frustration.

“Because, obviously, I don’t feel like going. And you keep bugging me two days now!” he snapped back in an equal upset tone.

“I’m bugging you?” her perfect ponytail bounced with the sharp turn of her head to face him, eyes narrowed and their color a tad deeper with temper, and Jughead flinched because his choice of words was bad but, sue him, he couldn’t hold himself back sometimes. “Well, you are bugging me with this whole douche behavior of yours and your far-fetched bull—beliefs!” she changed the word last minute, because she was Betty Cooper and cursing wasn’t really in her comfort zone, face fuming now from suppressed anger and hands bawled in fists against the inside of her arms.

Jughead opened his mouth to say something but hopefully thought first and closed it, sizing Betty’s fiery stare, knowing that if she pushed her more this wouldn’t end well and, contrary to what she believed, he really didn’t wanna fight with her for something as ridiculous as a stupid school dance. Betty sighed a ‘whatever’ and dropped back against her seat again, forcing her eyes at a family of five that were seated two booths in front of them to the left, not really in the mood of talking to him more.

Jughead sighed, not quite liking the tense silence between them. He knew that maybe he was overreacting a little, sure a dance wouldn’t hurt him that much, but he was getting cold feet even at the idea of his slouchy posture amongst his hypervating classmates. Jughead didn’t like the spotlight, or even the sidelines of it for that matter, and the cold sweat and damp palms that were a friend of his at such occasions were something he deeply wanted to avoid. Especially if Betty Cooper would be standing next to him, with a beauty straight out of a Parisian catwalk.

“Is it that bad that I want to dance with my boyfriend and not go with Kevin once again, like a pathetic excuse of an arm-candy?” she wasn’t really done yet, even though she was trying to behave civilized but the nervous trembling of the foot of her left leg that was resting against her other betrayed her. In Betty’s books, Jughead was being downright unfair and mean.

“Why are you trying to change me all of a sudden?” he grimaced in frustration, snapping the words and nearly interrupting her. Betty scoffed at that, still looking away. “I thought you knew who I was and loved me because and in spite of that.”

“I’m just asking for one night for you to be with me and let me have this!” she groaned because now she was really fed up.

It was Jughead’s time now to think she was being unfair. He always let her have everything; he wasn’t backing up, period. “No.” he blurred and turned back to his laptop, Betty leaving a long childish groan in frustration.

If Kevin and Veronica hadn’t walked up to them at that moment she was going to smother him for sure.

“Hey you two lovebirds!” Veronica sing-sung but her face dropped in a pout once seeing them all frowny and pissed. “Oh no, trouble in paradise already?” she faked sadness to tease them, while sliding along with Kevin to the seat across them.

Betty dropped her palms to the table with sound, making the two teenagers jump and round their eyes at her whereas Jughead just raised a brow, his cockiness aggravating her more.

“You two! Up!” the blonde ordered her friends with her pointer, the duo across her shooting up from their seats in horror. “Jughead here” she colored his name with all the venom she could gather up and the boy in question looked up at her with his signature challenging look “needs to have some alone time to think. He doesn’t really thinks straight lately as it seems.” She mused in a stuck up, bitchy voice that Jughead didn’t know Betty Cooper even possessed and that came to hate immediately.

“Fine!” he challenged back, faking ignorance and drumming his bony fingers on the table. He wasn’t backing up, end of story.

“Fine!” she snapped back furious, knitted brows and all, dragging a surprised Veronica by the elbow to another table, the girl making faces of pain, certain that Betty’s hold was minutes away from stopping her blood flow.

Kevin just stood there with a dumbfounded smile, the comic fight of his friends truly a sight to see.

“Kevin, if you don’t want a pretty mean stain of tabasco sauce on your cashmere teal colored sweater, I advise you to keep moving.” Betty’s threatening stare and fuming whisper made the said boy round his eyes terrified and hug himself defensively, Kevin sending a brief apologetic look to Jughead, before sprinting to join the two girlfriends.

Betty’s turned back was the only view Jughead had for the rest of the evening.

If somebody didn’t know any better, they would have been sure until now that Betty Cooper was part of the buffet décor. Since the time the blonde beauty had set foot on Riverdale’s school gym, escorted of course by no other than a smiley Kevin Keller, it seemed that she had grown roots at the side of the long rectangle table, feeling like a fish out of the water in the sea of pretty dresses and patterned tuxedos.

Riverdale High was alight to say the least. The large gym was transformed successfully in what 20s dance clubs were supposed to look back in the day with yellow twinkle lights and fake chandeliers and velvet curtains and even a faux champagne tower right in the middle of the finger food filled buffet. The chaperons had opted for soda to be running down the stocked in a tower crystal glasses, a very much more appropriate choice of drink for the young people around, but still the vibe was right and Betty was impressed. If only Betty had somebody to share her excitement with.

Her long, thick eyelashes, thanks to her miracle mascara, fanned her rosy cheeks as she blinked, taking it the sight in front of her. Teenagers were crowding the makeshift dance floor at the center of the gym, swaying as best as they could to the rhythm Josie and the Pussycats were setting and trying to mimick any dance move they had seen in numerous 20s movies. The three girls on the stage, dressed in matching silver dresses, were playing 20s inspired covers of famous modern songs and all the high schoolers were ecstatic to say the least.

Betty didn’t quite expect to feel this lonely and unwanted in a room full of people. As she watched her classmates dance and have the night of their lives, she could feel the lump in her throat getting bigger and bigger but she had promised herself that she wouldn’t cry because, really, her pricey make-up deserved better than being wasted over some stupid Jughead Jones. Yes, duh, end of story, not even a tear to be shred, I see you Betty Cooper!

Some kind of 20s retro cover of Beyoncé’s Crazy In Love was being blasted from the speakers and more and more teenagers kept joining the crowd of sweaty bodies at the dancefloor. Right at the center of it Cheryl Blossom’s red tresses, wavy and pinned to one side by a feathery sapphire hairclip, were bouncing along with the sequins of her same colored dress and some meters away was Veronica, gorgeous and confident Veronica, sporting a black feather boa around her neck, over her usual pearls, and a black form fitting flapper dress, low on her cleavage and short on her thighs with million sparkling tassels decorating it whole and offering a seductive peak-a-boo of her lean legs with every twirl she took like a true flapper girl out of a black and white movie. Betty really wanted to know if she could pull off a look like that but she knew Alice Cooper would kill her before she would, something that made her sigh. In front of her was Archie, both of them dancing crazily and smiling bright like the chandelier above them. Betty felt a tug of jealousy at the sight of them, not because they had come together or because they might have been here as more than friends, but because they got to spend the night with the person they wanted, having just fun. She was allowed to want to have fun with her own boy, wasn’t she?

Feeling the lump again choking her neck, the blonde dame dropped her eyes to the floor and started picking on her dress, the dress she had chosen nearly a month ago and was so excited over wearing, because she had a feeling he would have loved it on her. It was a silk dusty pink – her color – aerie dress with draped short sleeves, shear on her torso with some seductive white lace peaking from inside, tightening deliciously on her waist with a sequined thin line and then flowing over her tanned legs up until the top of her knees, almost invisible sequins giving the skirt of the dress a delightful grace that was so Betty Cooper. A same colored sequined headband was around her forehead with a dusty pink feather decorating the left side of her head, staying true to the flapper fashion, and her hair was in small curls this time, pinned just under her ears to look short and bod-like. Her look was concluding a loose pearl necklace lying in a knot under her modest but seductive cleavage and some dusty gold, pep-toed Mary Jane heels, decorated with tasteful shapes of glitter and tiny pearls.

But he wasn’t here to see any of that, he was stubborn and a basic jerk and Betty felt so beyond frustrated at him and so beyond sad. Even Reggie was there, swinging awkwardly with Tea Miller and whispering to her ear things that Betty knew for sure were sickening but at least he was there, he was present and presentable enough, not disappeared in thin air, without even caring to call her or text her two days now. Two days!

“Alright, gentlemen. Now grab your gals and show them some loving, won’t you?” Josie addressed with a soft voice and a sweet smirk, once the song ended and the girls behind her begun playing a slow one.

The teens at the center of the gym formed pairs and the lights dimmed a little, as the first notes of another cover, appropriate for the era, echoed in the room and Josie started singing the lyrics of Stay With Me by Sam Smith. Betty just huffed and straightened down her skirt with venom, refusing to watch anymore and turning her back to the crowd. And as she kept staring the bleachers and the lump in her throat grew impossible to ignore and she kept fiddling with her stupid headband and fighting with the urge to burst into heavy tears, she felt a presence behind her along with a polite clearing of throat.

“Excuse me, miss. Would you like to offer me this dance?” the soft voice she came to love addressed her and she turned in a blink, silk and sequins twirling graciously around her knees.

She was at a loss of words. There in front of her, dressed in a black double breasted suit, was her idiot of her boyfriend, in all his vintage glory. White, almost invisible, lines were running down his perfectly ironed black tux, Jughead staying loyal to his favorite color, and a white dress shirt was peaking from inside along with a patterned black and pink tie, coordinating with the dusty pink of her dress. His hair was in its usual waves, a tad tamer now though, and he had even traded his beloved beanie for a black fedora, looking like a true gentleman straight out of a detective novel. Damn, he looked something so much more than handsome.

“Wow.” Jughead breathed, soft blue eyes scanning her up and down and shining in boyish awe. “It’s the first time my imagination fails me this miserably.” He smirked back at her, honestly finding her stunning beauty not even matching his wildest expectations.

“What are you doing here?” Betty snapped out of her own awestruck state regarding his looks and asked, not remembering that she was supposed to be angry at him, very angry. “I thought this wasn’t your idea of fun or that it would a waste of a perfect Saturday night—” she went on to quote him annoyed but he cut her off.

“I’m standing here sweating in a way too warm woolen suit, hinting that I was a jerk and subtly asking you to forgive me. Dance with me, please.” He offered again, serious now and a tad pleading, offering his hand for her to take.

Betty gave him a look under her eyelashes, then glanced at his outstretched arm and then back at him and huffed in slight defense, before dropping her white tulle glove clad palm over his, letting him walk her to the dancefloor.

They swayed for a couple of seconds in silence with him roaming his fingertips ever so lightly over the rich part of her back her beautiful dress left bare, causing goosebumps to rise on her spine. Betty loved having him this close, breathing in his scent, like sandalwood and fresh air, and having his lean torso pressed against her. She had missed him terribly and she was seconds away from admitting it.

He bet her to it. “I missed you.” Jughead whispered to her ear, blonde curls tickling the side of his cheek, smirking once feeling her shiver lightly at his fingers and his tone of voice. “Bets, I’m so sorry.” He whispered again, dropping his hand to her waist to bring her even closer and Betty winced at the lose of his amazing fingers against her spine, before feeling even more lightheaded from their proximity.

She ordered herself to stay calm, even though that was impossible around him, and arrange her thoughts. “You are acting like an immature jerk, you don’t call, you don’t text…What do you want me to say?” her voice was a whisper too and her eyes were closed, relishing in the way he deliciously swayed against her, despite the fact that she was still mad. A little now but still.

“I know I’m sorry. I was just drowning in self-pity and that makes me a coward.” He confessed, swaying them to the beat as best as he could; he wasn’t much of a dancer but his mom had him once or twice when he was little twirling with her around the kitchen mist laughter and making pancakes. “And you know first-hand how much unknown scares me.”

Betty sighed. She knew that and she did find a unique beauty to the way he experienced things with her; first kisses, first dates, first touches. Jughead was timid and careful when it came to first time experiences. And that was never a drawback for her; she wouldn’t have him any other way.

“I guess I shouldn’t have pushed you that much too.” Betty admitted shyly, fingers picking with the material of his suit on his shoulder before her hand dropped to caress down his back in affection, telling him that she wasn’t that mad anymore. “But still, you shouldn’t have disappeared. I thought that maybe…” the words died on her shiny lip glossed lips, not even daring to say it out loud.

“What?” he pulled back to look at her, the first time that their eyes connected since they had hit the dance floor, Jughead feeling a little weak in the knees at how absolutely breathtaking she looked. “Don’t even say it, Betty, you know that I would never do that to you.” He said fiercely, seeing her drop her eyes between them. “I’m crazy in love with you; that hasn’t changed since now and that won’t change for years to come.”  He confessed with certainty and she couldn’t do anything else but reach up and kiss him. Long, deep, fiercely on his chapped lips.

“Let’s not talk about this anymore ok?” she offered, caressing from his palm all the way to his shoulder in order for her arms to lace behind his neck and her forehead to rest against his. “I love you and you’re here; that’s all that matters.” She whispered against his lips and sighed blissfully.

Jughead kissed her again, loving having her taste on his mouth again, sweet and sexy mixed up in a perfect combination. “So that’s what the roaring 20s looked like, huh?” he changed the subject as she wished.

“Well, I guess that’s a close representation.” Betty formed a cute grimace of a smile. “But everything looks so amazing!” she squealed in a true girl fashion, making him chuckle.

“You look amazing.” He complimented her with a charming smile. “Can you wear this dress like every day?” Jughead fisted the soft material on her hips, loving how it felt over her curves and itching to take his time pealing it off her body until it was just a silk mess on the floor.

Betty giggled, cheeks turning even rosier than before. “I’m sorry but I can’t really appear in cheer practice sparkling like a disco ball.” He winced in dislike and she pecked his lips with an amused smile. “Thank you though. And you look so good yourself. So dapper!” she colored the adjective with a hum of appreciation, eyeing his torso with delight.

“Well… I might have had a little help from Ronnie.” Jughead admitted with a boyish shrug.

“That little traitor!” Betty exclaimed with narrowed eyes. “I knew she was up to something; she was always glued to her phone texting!” she scoffed in disbelief, her still narrowed eyes coming in contact with the brunette from across the room who gave them a thumps up and a pleasing smile.

“We owe her actually. She put some much needed sense into me.” he sighed, thankful for their friend and her really inspirational pep-talks slash lectures .

“Then, good for her.” Betty nodded pleased. “And good for you cos I was seconds away from marching into Archie’s garage and breaking that stubborn head of yours!” she smiled amused and flicked his hat, making it drop lightly to one side.

“Now that” Jughead momentarily took his hands off her waist to straighten up his fedora, as the song ended and an upbeat one began “was not really polite, Ms. Cooper.”

“Oh, really?” Betty dropped her own hands to her hips, challenging smirk intact. “And what are you gonna do about it, Mr. Jones?”

Jughead chuckled, a kind of chuckle that went straight into Betty’s stomach to create a tingling feeling there. “Oh, you’d better hold on tight, doll, cos I’m about to sweep you off your feet!” he exclaimed in a sexy manner and he twirled her under his arm to the beat, before catching her waist and dipping her to the ground, her girly squeal of surprise getting silenced by his demanding lips on hers, Betty’s leg shooting up in reflex to his actions like the kissing scenes in any 20s movie classic, the two of them pulling back with wide grins and shiny happy eyes.

That night Jughead crossed ‘first time having fun’ off his long list of things that Betty Cooper had brought for the first time into his world.

(That was cheesy I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself :P Also, if anyone is wondering about the songs, Beyonce’s Crazy In Love cover is from Swing Republic and Sam Smith’s Stay With Me from Postmodern Jukebox. Thanks for reading!!)

[aion-rsa]

How Doctor Who Was Quietly Revolutionised By Its Least Popular Season

https://ift.tt/3q4tiPv

In 2014, when Doctor Who Magazine asked its readers to rank the show’s first 50 years, out of 241 options, Season 24 stories ‘Time and the Rani’ came 239th, ‘Paradise Towers’ 230th, ‘Delta and the Bannermen’ 217th, with ‘Dragonfire’ thought best of in 215th place. This was largely a repeat of its 2009 poll, although then readers rated ‘Delta and the Bannermen’ above ‘Dragonfire’. Season 24 was also ranked bottom in a GQ article ranking every series of Doctor Who – a combination of words I never thought I’d write.

Season 24 of Doctor Who went into production just as its 23rd season, the 14-episode ‘The Trial of a Time-Lord’ was finishing up on TV. By late 1986, producer John Nathan-Turner was expecting to be moved onto another show and had lost both his script-editor and the show’s most prolific writer (the former quitting after long-simmering tensions erupted behind the scenes, and the latter passing away during the making of the series). 

A surprised Nathan-Turner was given 13 months to hire a new script editor and produce 14 episodes under a BBC edict that Doctor Who had to become lighter and funnier (not dissimilar to the instructions producer Graham Williams found himself under in the Seventies). He also ended up having to cast a new Doctor, after Colin Baker was sacked and didn’t want to return for one story just to regenerate. Sylvester McCoy was formally cast at the end of February and started filming ‘Time and the Rani’ in April.

‘Time in the Rani’ was written by husband-and-wife duo Pip and Jane Baker (UK readers may remember their early-Nineties CBBC show Watt on Earth), who were given the job because there were no scripts either ready to go or in development. Nathan-Turner knew they could write quickly after they’d completed the final episode of ‘Trial of a Time Lord’ at extremely short notice earlier in the year.

The Bakers’ writing style was to produce frothy and campy nonsense and then act as if they’d just written The Seventh Seal. ‘Time and the Rani’ contains continuity references such as costume shout outs to past Doctors, a returning villain and references to the Lord President of Gallifrey. It’s set on an alien planet and makes no attempt to engage with contemporary life either directly or allegorically, and is happy to be adventure for adventure’s sake. It’s not a last hurrah for that style of story, but is a strong argument for why it had to be stop being the House Style after five years (though, to be fair to it, it has some nice ideas in it and the scene with the Doctor chatting away to the universe’s geniuses is great).

New Script Editor Andrew Cartmel wasn’t a fan of ‘Time and the Rani’ but arrived too late in the day to have much impact on it. He was able to influence writer Stephen Wyatt away from a story steeped in continuity and towards what became ‘Paradise Towers’. This was based on a combination of the novel High Rise by J.G. Ballard, Wyatt’s real-life experience in London’s East End, and Cartmel’s fondness for Alan Moore comics. Not only is it the first story for years to not refer to other Doctor Who stories and doesn’t feature the TARDIS interior but it is, in stark contrast to ‘Time and the Rani’, clearly about something real.

What ‘Paradise Towers’ did, which few Doctor Who stories had done before, was sympathetically reflect a working class setting by depicting people trapped in a block of flats by the whims of an aloof architect. In doing so, it didn’t go for realism. The show has rarely been in a position to, and here the budget and imposed tone meant it couldn’t. What it does have is a coherent approach: everything is big, be it the cleaning robots, the performances or the costuming.

So we have a Doctor Who story that isn’t aiming at its usual audience (Considering it had lost viewers this is clearly sensible) and is trying to overcome its restrictions by putting on a pantomime about social structures featuring cannibals and killer robots. Criticising it for lacking a realism it could never achieve is harsh.   

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Season 24 follows ‘Paradise Towers’ with a story set in a holiday camp and then in a shopping centre. Being Doctor Who, the shopping centre is in space and run by an intergalactic criminal, and the holiday camp becomes the battleground for an attempted genocide (“Now, let me try and get this right. Are you telling me that you are not the Happy Hearts Holiday Club from Bolton, but instead are spacemen in fear of an attack from some other spacemen?”) set to the backdrop of the space race and the coming of rock and roll. Again, it seems to be courting an audience other than organised fandom for the first time in five years, using recognisable aspects of contemporary life and mashing them up with fresh takes on Doctor Who staples.

While the tone is cartoonish, the satire of a building, designed by a celebrated architect, that actively harms its residents is clearly pointed. In fact, because the tone is cartoonish, it gets away with more. Over the past few series Doctor Who had been very ‘LOOK how NASTY this is. LOOK. It’s HORRIBLE’, whereas Season 24 knowingly presented things that were both silly and horrible simultaneously, revelling in the dissonance. This is one of the many ways in which the Seventh Doctor era prefigures Russell T. Davies’ approach. The survivors of ‘Paradise Towers’ coming together to fight their attackers feels very RTD.

In fact, given that ‘Survival’ is often heralded as a mirror image of ‘Rose’, it’s worth noting how Season 24 combines the recognisable with the fantastical in the same way we’d see Autons in shopping centres or plumbers and burger vans in space during Series 1. The Doctor was part of this too. McCoy was instructed to play the role like Patrick Troughton, but specifically Troughton’s lighter moments. Ultimately McCoy would gravitate towards how Troughton fully played the Doctor in the Sixties, but here he’s mostly being silly and avuncular. Indeed McCoy was clowning more than the role demanded.

What this allows, though, is for the Doctor to engage more with the people in these stories. In an extremely Troughton-esque move, the Doctor happily mixes and enthuses with the tourists in ‘Delta and the Bannermen’. In one scene he’s following an alien princess but stops to check on the sound of someone crying. He leaves a Doctor Who story to step into the real world, sitting in people’s bedrooms holding a guitar and making wistful observations about love. And he belongs. This Doctor fits in this world, and this version of the Seventh Doctor lingers even amidst the Winging-It-Chess-Playing manipulations of later series. It expands what the character is capable of in a positive way.

I’m not going to claim here that Season 24 as a whole should be thought of amongst the very best of Doctor Who, but it’s important to address how much it achieved in difficult circumstances. Despite the rushed production it managed to take Doctor Who from the lows of cancellation and its flawed return and point it in the direction of Seasons 25 and 26. Beyond this we have the New Adventures and the show’s return in 2005, all going further with ideas brought into the show in the late Eighties. I am going to claim that ‘Paradise Towers’ is great and ‘Delta and the Bannermen’ is charming in a delirious way. ‘Dragonfire’ is the only real dud of the new approach, being somewhat plodding and incoherent. What Season 24’s unpopularity demonstrates is that fans are far more willing to overlook a poverty of ideas over a poverty of appearance.

Once I’ve put my flameproof hat on, I’m going to say ‘Terror of the Zygons’ is a great example of a very well-made story that is ultimately just a fun yarn with some particularly egregious examples of ‘Activate the Unnecessarily Slow Dipping Mechanism’ type monsters. It’s not about anything. It’s just a blast. ‘Paradise Towers’ is furious and inventive, witty and (in Doctor Who terms) novel. It just looks like someone asked CBBC to adapt a 2000AD strip, and this is too much for some fans.

The show’s reach exceeded its grasp, however. Doctor Who had been temporarily cancelled and then returned diminished. It had become harder to disguise the lack of budget. This was a period of recovery and transition, and so the ambitions of the scripts (the caretakers being older men and Pex being a Stallone-esque slab of a man) were beyond Doctor Who in the late Eighties. If ‘Paradise Towers’ had been made in 2007, Richard Briers would certainly have taken it more seriously. Equally, given his influences, Cartmel’s Doctor Who would make a great series of comics.

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You don’t have to enjoy it, but you should acknowledge that without Season 24 Doctor Who would be a much duller place.

The Doctor Who Season 24 Blu-ray box set is released on June 21st.

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