#also tried malibu for the first time do not recommend it was shit

[hrtley]

AUGHHHHH super Tired. i think i deserve a Little nap!

[hawkbucks]

Bucky and Steve’s entire friendship starts when Bucky spots Steve reading a Captain America comic on the playground, promptly sits down next to him, and goes: “You like Captain America? He’s cool, but I think Winter Soldier is better.” Steve, of course, is offended that this kid has the audacity to imply someone is better than his beloved Captain, so they argue about the finer points of the Captain and the Soldier, discussing their actions at such depth that you’d forget they’re just a couple of 3rd graders with scraped knees and wild hair. At the end, they agree to come to the conclusion that the Captain and the Soldier are equally as cool. Whenever they’re able–a.k.a when Bucky saves up enough of his allowance to afford a few issues for him and Steve (because, as much as Steve protests against Bucky buying him things, Bucky knows he wants that Falcon issue)–they head down to the comic store around the corner from their school run by a kindly man named Abraham. Abraham slips them snacks sometimes: bags of chips, candy bars, etc. If they prove they’re doing good at school, they also get free books. Tables and chairs are scattered around the store, usually reserved for the game nights that the store hosts, but Abraham allows them to do their schoolwork on those tables. They try to draw out their visits as long as they can, because they just love exploring the store, and Abraham is such a good guy, you know? One day, when Steve is over at Bucky’s house and they’re watching cartoons, Steve gets an idea. He turns to Bucky and proclaims that they should open up a store together. It’ll be the best store ever! Bucky sagely nods before he runs off to grab a notebook and pencils to plan it. Their store looks as follows: 3 stories at the minimum, and there’ll be a slide leading from each floor to the one below. They’ll have cool statues to put on display, a gigantic collection to sale, and a pyrotechnics display at the cash register at Bucky’s suggestion. And they’ll make a lot of money. It’ll be the best store ever.

Unfortunately, said best store ever ends up being pushed to the back burner once they realize that opening and managing a business isn’t as easy as it sounds, especially for a couple of kids. “We’ll just do it later, when we’re grown ups,” Steve says, and Bucky agrees. They grow older. Steve turns from the shortest kid on the playground to the guy that people have to crane their necks up to talk to (Bucky teases him and says that he’s become the real life Captain America. Steve retorts that that makes Bucky the Winter Soldier), and Bucky grows his hair out, looking more and more like a hipster everyday (which he vehemently denies. “Where’s your manbun?” “I will smack you.”). Interests come and go, but they still find themselves stepping into Abraham’s shop. Abraham’s older now, grayer, but he still slides them Snickers every once in a while.   Bucky ends up enlisting in the army to help pay for his tuition while Steve goes to art school to get a degree in illustration. An incident with an IED later, and Bucky comes home with an honorable discharge and an empty left sleeve. Steve visits him as often as he can, usually filling in the gaps when Bucky’s own family isn’t over. Sometimes Natasha (a girl they befriended in middle school after she came dressed as Black Widow for Halloween) and Sam (a boy they got to know during freshman year of high school when he complimented Bucky on his prime taste in superheroes because of the Falcon button pinned to his backpack) drop in, with Natasha keeping him company by watching trashy reality TV with him and Sam listening to him vent and offering a shoulder if he ever needs one. Hell, Abraham sends him a card through Steve when he heard about what happened. (He ends up getting all of them gift baskets as thanks for being there. Sam tries to decline his at first, but the lure of raspberry tarts was too strong.) One day, Steve comes over with Indian takeout and turns on some good ol’ History Channel. “Speaking of history,” Steve says in between bites of naan, “do you remember that store we wanted to open when we were younger?” Hit with that blast from the past, Bucky nods. He doesn’t have the notebook that they used when they first came up with the idea, but he stills remembers the basics of what they put down. Like the pyrotechnics display that he wanted. Steve asks if he’s still open to the idea, and Bucky replies, around a mouthful of rogan josh, that he is. It’s… been a while since he’s gotten out of his apartment to do something other than shop for groceries, pop into the Chinese restaurant right next to the building, or visit the doctor for those couple of appointments about him possibly getting a prosthetic, courtesy of some company that’s looking to do test runs of their new line. A whole bunch of Googling and Binging and Yahoo Answers-ing and they think they might have a slight idea of how to start a business. Slight is the operative word here. Like with many things, they end up going to Abraham for help. Abraham is a godsend, answering all of their questions and offering to point his customer base their way once he closes up shop for good (Steve may or may not have gotten a bit misty-eyed hearing about Abraham’s inevitable retirement). Fast forward, and their shop is open. Steve drew up the logo (gotta put that degree to use somehow), while Bucky was the one who came up with the interior design (and no pyrotechnics displays). Natasha and Sam are hired, with both of them helping to run their social media presence. They get a decent amount of people at their grand opening despite their location being slightly out of the way, and apparently those people liked their experience because they end up getting a handful of regulars, most notably some guy named Clint that Natasha claims to know, a pair of Norwegian brothers named Thor and Loki that Sam swears are actual gods, a timid PhD student named Bruce, and a woman named Carol and her girlfriend, Maria who are the biggest Captain Marvel fangirls that they’ve ever met. Their popularity grows–especially after Abraham closes–and they soon find themselves making a healthy bit of profit. Healthy enough that they’re able to decorate their shop more (Natasha insists that they place a life-sized statute of Black Widow near the front doors) and they tack-on other things, like shirts and posters and snacks to sell. Bucky gets his prosthetic somewhere around the first month that they’ve been open. It’s a wickedly shiny silver, and Steve suggested that he place a red star sticker on his wrist (because his shoulder isn’t visible 99.9% of the time) to represent Bucky’s favorite hero, and Bucky actually does that. Sometimes people ask to touch it. He lets them. Sometimes people ask what happened. He deflects them. At some point, a guy walks in with ruffled hair and glasses and Bucky nearly chokes on the soda that he’s drinking. Sure, they’ve had their fair share of cute customers, but that guy’s cute, and he’s gonna end up making a fool of himself. It’s not like he can ask Steve to talk instead because Steve just went out on his damn lunch break. He tries not to stare at the guy as he peruses the shelves and rifles through the boxes of back issues they have set out in the middle of the floor. He tries really, really hard, taking his phone out and scrolling through whatever social media website and liking the replies to their posts. Every once in a while, he glances at the door, half-expecting Steve to walk in at any time.

Then the guy (now dubbed Cutie in Bucky’s mind) comes up and he smiles at Bucky in greeting and Bucky would probably sob if that wouldn’t make him come off as a complete weirdo. Cutie hauls up a veritable stack and places it on the counter. Despair courses through Bucky’s veins when he sees the Captain America comic on top, because he could do so much better. “Mmm, I’m just getting those because my friend likes Captain America,” Cutie says and oh, shit, did he say that out loud? “I’m partial to Iron Man myself.” “Iron Man’s cool an’ all,” Bucky replies, somehow managing to keep himself from running out the front door and never looking back, “but he’s not my favorite.” Cutie’s eyes flick down to the red star sticker on his wrist. “Let me guess: Winter Soldier?” Bucky clicks his tongue. “Yup.” Cutie laughs, and it’s a really nice sound that Bucky wouldn’t mind hearing again. When he’s finished ringing Cutie up, he mentions the membership that they have going and how members have a pull list and would he like to sign up?  Mentally, he crosses his fingers that Cutie says yes because it would be a shame if he only got to see him once in his life. A damn, damn shame.

So, he should be thankful that Cutie says yes and he finds out that Cutie’s name is actually Tony and Tony just moved from Malibu and it was his friend James–whom he calls Rhodey–that recommended this place to him. (He goes through a list of James in his head, and figures that it most likely is James Rhodes, who also happens to be a member. He should send him a gift basket.)

Tony ends up leaving around the same time Steve comes back from his lunch break, and Steve must have this sort of sixth sense because he sends Bucky a knowing, amused look.

Tony drops by every 2nd and 4th Wednesday, and it’s always at 12:40 PM, give or take a few minutes. His pull list isn’t particularly long–or at least, it isn’t something that he needs to drop in twice a month for, but Bucky’s not going to complain, not when he’s able to see the way Tony’s eyes sparkle when the topic crosses over to a story arc that he’s passionate about or the way the tip of his tongue pokes out between his lips when he becomes engrossed in what he’s reading. They swap stories, with Bucky finding out that Tony used to be in the robotics club when he was in high school and how his father used to tell him that comics were all “bullshit,” so that threw him off of them for a bit. He always asks Bucky if he recommends something before he leaves, if he saw that episode of Game of Thrones, or if he’s simply feeling okay.

Tony’s visits last longer and longer and longer, until it’s basically just him and Bucky talking for hours on end, their topics ranging from comic cons to what they had for dinner last night. (Steve laments how he’s always the one stuck helping customers because he doesn’t have the heart to interrupt him and Tony when they look so concentrated on each other. He begs Bucky to just ask Tony out already because he can’t take it anymore.)

Bucky ends up asking Tony out on accident. Y’see, Tony was excitedly talking about the movie adaption of Iron Man that’s supposed to be coming out soon, and Bucky blurted out that he wouldn’t mind taking Tony out to see it, just the two of ‘em and some popcorn.

Tony says that he’d love to, and Bucky wonders if he should thank Steve for going out to lunch those few months ago.

[writingwithcolor]

LA's Asian Locations

Hello! I’m Kore, I’m Korean, Thai, and Chinese, and live in LA. I’m going to be sending some other things in, in a seperate POC Profile, but this was getting long. But if anyone ever is writing about Asians in LA(since there are… you know… a lot of Asians in LA), or just LA in generally and want to have their character visit one of parts of the city where more Asian people live, here is a small guide to most of them. 

Westside

Asian-Americans in LA have a shit ton of places you can go. To begin with is the Westside. This is the area near the Ocean, but isn’t directly on it generally. It’s called the Westside, because it’s almost the western most part of LA. On the Westside there’s Little Persia, with a lot of Persian food, and UCLA. This is specifically called Westwood, but we also call it the Westside. So hah. But because of UCLA there ends up being more East Asians around here because of UCLA, because of this, there’s a super strong East Asian presence around here with a lot of restaurants and stuff. In Mar Vista around here, there’s also a Chinese School that’s super big and popular.

Little Osaka

Then there’s Little Osaka, technically still part of the Westside, also technically called Sawtelle because it’s like three, maybe four, blocks of Sawtelle Blvd. But Little Osaka deserves a special mention of it’s own. This is the first of two Japanese areas in LA, however, Little Osaka also has a lot of Korean things, with many Korean people running Japanese stores. Little Osaka, is super popular to just mostly get food. There’s nothing actually to do here? But hey, food.

Koreatown

Next is Koreatown. So this place is almost in the heart of LA, it’s about 30 min to an hour from the Westside in terms of driving. This is half residential and half not. It’s 100% lit at night. In the heart of Koreatown we’ve got a lot of night clubs, and places to drink. On the peripherals, it’s dead at night. But there’s good food, and a lot of supermarkets. Around 60k Koreans live here alone. There are a lot more than that in LA. Around here is also Little Bangledesh. I’ve never actually been, but that’s also mostly made up of Korean people. Recently Little Bangledesh tried to take over half of Koreatown and make it into little Bangledesh, but was defeated in a vote, as Korean people really didn’t appreciate that. 

Right outside of here is Wilshire Korean School, which is a bilingual private school that has Korean School on Saturdays. This is one of maybe… three? Proper Korean schools in LA, most people just home teach their kids Korean. There are two supermarkets here. Galleria and HMart, both of them in Plaza sort of places. Galleria’s has better food, and probably better shopping. But HMart is the OG Asian supermarket and is near two really awesome desert places. One of them you can get a sweet bread, shaped like a fish, filled with ice cream and either red bean, custard, or nutella, and the other one you can get patbingsoo at, or Korean shaved ice.

Little Tokyo

There’s also Little Tokyo. Which I don’t think I’ve ever been to, odd, since I’ve lived in LA my whole life. But I mostly keep to Koreatown and the Westside too.

Chinatown(s)

Okay now for the Chinatowns. So there’s technically one, and that’s in the middle of LA. But let me tell you, that’s not Chinatown. It was, once upon a time, however, a lot of Chinese people moved out of there and to either Alhambra, or Montery Park. So we’ve got Old Chinatown, New Chinatown, and Chinatown. Now I can’t remember whether Montery Park or Alhambra is Old or New, but these are both out a bit a ways from the Chinatown in the middle of LA. 

In that Chinatown, all the festivals are thrown. It’s also tiny. Alhambra is a lot more laid out than Montery, which is super laid out. But Montery Park, and Alhambra, have got great food. Also no social lives, but great great food. There’s a supermarket here, when you leave the heart of Chinatown, and walk for maybe 10 minutes, that’s probably the biggest Thai supermarket I’ve ever seen. I mean… You can buy so much coconut sugar here. It's insane.

Thaitown

There’s also Thaitown!! Which is closer to Koreatown than both Old and New Chinatown. This is where you can get a lot of Thai Food, and products. There’s not a lot to do here, and it’s mostly disappearing. But food. Really though, this place is super duper duper boring.

Little India

There’s Little India as well. It’s maybe three streets at most.

Little Saigon

Little Saigon is the heart and soul of the Vietnamese diaspora in LA. It’s beautiful, and actually really awesome. Unlike Thaitown though, you can get good Vietnamese food outside of it. They’ve got streetfood (illegal in LA technically), and a super duper ginourmous market that’s bigger than the biggest HMart that I’ve ever see. It’s so… big.

Everything else isn’t of much note, I’m not going to lie. I hope you’ve enjoyed this guide! I enjoyed writing it for sure.

More PoC Profiles here

Commentary

I’m assuming much of the above is confined to Los Angeles (City) proper. Because much of the Asian population in LA moves pretty fluidly between cities, here are my additions for LA County as a whole (including some key LA landmarks that were left out).

Torrance, Gardena and parts of Culver City: Home to the largest Nikkei and Japanese expat population in LA. This used to be the homebase for Toyota America until they moved their HQ close to their factories in Texas. However, many other Japanese companies still use this region for their American homebases, and as such the biggest Japanese grocery chains (Nijiya, Tokyo Central and Mitsuwa) all operate their largest Californian stores here. This region also has sizable Korean, SE Asian and S. Asian communities. One of LA’s more popular Indian grocers (Samosa House) is based in Culver City. Asahi Gakuen, a Japanese Saturday language school designed to help Japanese American kids keep up with the Japanese national curriculum, is also based here.

San Gabriel Valley aka 626: This includes not only Alhambra, Montebello and Monterey Park, but also Arcadia, Covina, West Covina, San Gabriel, Duarte, El Monte, Commerce, Asuza and Chino). It’s a pretty big, diverse place home to a large number of diaspora in various waves from Taiwan, mainland China, Hong Kong, Vietnam, Thailand, Malaysia and South Asia. The annual 626 Night Market (a street food fair) is held near the Santa Anita racetracks. When I was a kid, most of my lion dance jobs for the Lunar New Year were in Old Chinatown, but they have all since moved here. The diversity in cuisine is incredible. To get a sense of just how many different types of food there are out here, I recommend reading old reviews by the late, great Jonathan Gold from the LA Times.

Glendale and Pasadena: Large Armenian and Persian communities. Lots of very good bakeries, restaurants and also Armenian evangelical churches.

Artesia and Norwalk: Little India, basically, but there are also large Vietnamese and Filipino communities. Pioneer Blvd. in Artesia in particular has many Indian, Pakistani and Bangladeshi grocers, restaurants and clothing shops.

All of the cities I have mentioned have things like language schools, religion and culture centers, grocers, restaurants, etc. specific to the communities I’ve described above.

Religion (Major landmarks):

Hinduism: Venkateswara Temple - Malibu; Shri Swaminarayan Mandir Temple - Chino Hills;

Buddhism: Zen Center Los Angeles - Koreatown; Koyasan Betsuin - Little Tokyo; Nishi Honganji - Little Tokyo; Higashi Honganji - Little Tokyo; Zenshuji Soto Mission - Little Tokyo; Guan Di temple - Old Chinatown

Taoism: Thien Hau Temple - Old Chinatown

Shintoism: Konko Church - Boyle Heights, Gardena, Whittier

There are also many gurdwaras and mosques spread out throughout LA County (North Hollywood in particular for LA proper), but I’m not saying where they are because humanity is terrible.

Addendums for Little Tokyo:

Japanese American Museum: Covers the history of Japanese Americans in the US, internment during WWII and Little Tokyo. Also provides assistance to families looking to review historical, declassified records about interned relatives.

Nihonmura Plaza: main setting for festivals for Tanabata, Obon and New Years. Has a nifty looking traditional Japanese fire tower

Kinokuniya: LA branch of a major Japanese bookstore chain

Addendums for Koreatown:

Dawooljung/ Korean Pavilion: A gazebo and open space across the street from the Seoul International Park and the Koreatown Community Center

Schools for Eastern Medicine/ Acupuncture: There are at least 2 schools in Koreatown for Eastern/ Chinese/ Alternative medicine that quite a few Asian Americans who run their own clinics have trained at.

LA is so big and so diverse that there’s no one way to really capture how much of Asia is represented here. I know our county registrar and DMV offers information in Armenian, Chinese, Cambodian/Khmer, Farsi, Korean, Tagalog/Filipino, Vietnamese, Hindi/ Urdu, and Japanese because at least 5% of the voting population speaks each of those languages. I’d love to see further additions from other Asian Los Angelenos.

- Marika.

[theworstbob]

the thing journal, 6.11.2017 - 6.17.2017

capsule reviews of the pop culture i took in last week. this week: venice, witness, 1989, gilded, punch-drunk love, sucker, bloody bloody andrew jackson, gone now, boomiverse, melodrama, before sunrise, pinata, whiplash

1) Venice, by Anderson .Paak: Paak might be really close to Greatest Living Songwriter status. Like, Malibu and Yes Lawd! are both undeniable classics, but this is ALSO so solid, solid enough that I feel like, if we get someone in the room with Paak to say, "Hey, dude, maybe don't put a bad butt pun in this one?" Paak could be running the world. Every second of this album is wonderful. Like, .Paak makes songs that make an indoor kid like me wish he was at the beach, that's like the only thing I can say about this album. .Paak' great. I don't have enough words to describe what makes him great.

2) Witness, by Benjamin Booker: ...So, this is the last thing I'm writing? And this was a nice, bluesy rock album that made a Sunday morning slightly doper. I liked it, it was nice, listen to it if you like nice rock albums.

3) 1989, by Tay Tay: I sure do have a lot to say about this album that wasn't said two and a half years ago! I liked it. The first five songs are as good as any five songs on any album that's ever been, and then the rest of this album... Exists? Like there's no way I'm going to call an album with "Shake it Off" and "Bad Blood" on it a classic, and after hearing Lana del Rey songs I can't get behind the Lana del Rey impression that is "Wildest Dreams," like it was already an enh song but knowing it was ripping off an enh thing gives it a firm "no," but any album with "Style" and "Blank Space" and "Style" deserves plaudits, and the album does pick up with the last two tracks, which are up there with the first five tracks as the best stuff Tay Tay has ever done. End of the day, though, To Pimp a Butterfly still should have won Album of the Year, and if at the end of 2014 Catch-Up 1989 is still in the top ten for 2014 (#9 as I write this), I'd be stunned.

4) Gilded, by Jade Jackson: This? was somehow recommended to me by Amazon because I enjoy the music of Paramore. I cannot claim to have heard the Paramore in this. I heard a pretty decent if slow-moving country album! That was a fun surprise! One of my favorite things about country music in 2017 is how, like, we typically associate rebellion with punk and rap, y'know? Loud music that moves fast and is always shouting. And rebellion in country is sitting with just an acoustic guitar and singing sad songs about small towns. Like, a lot of country music is about what a small town home town dirt road party it is to be in the sticks, so the outlaws have to slow it down and reflect on whether they're truly happy where they are. So like, this album has incredibly little in common with Paramore from a music standpoint, but they share an attitude which has to manifest itself differently because of their respective genres. Basically, I'm incredibly down with this album.

5) Punch-Drunk Love, dir. Paul Thomas Anderson: hey. hey guys. did you guys know about this paul thomas anderson dude. he's pretty great. like, everything about that scene where he asks the woman out, the warehouse collapsing, the calls from the phone sex scammer, his sister haranguing him, the woman not knowing how to respond to this, him clearly not knowing how to handle the situation, the pudding the so much pudding, the score building as everything falls apart, it's so fucking good. i remember, when i was 12, this movie had like two whole shelves at hollywood video, and when my dad and my family were looking at this movie, we were like "we love little nicky! but this might be more serious? and poor innocent caralin," and i just, i wonder what a younger me would have thought about this film. i wonder how i would have reacted to this, if we actually had pulled the trigger on punch-drunk love before i was anywhere near ready to handle it.

6) Sucker, by Charli XCX: hahaha i need to do theme weeks or something like i'm supposed to think about a paul thomas anderson joint and then try to come up with a decent opinion about a fine, just a tich below great pop album. i should've eased myself into this, it should've gone punch drunk love, the kimbra album i added to provide the bridge from film master class to pop, and THEN charli xcx. i mean, i enjoyed this a lot, i had a solid, solid bus ride, but like i just need to structure the sequencing of thing journal better. like, maybe don't put the slap-hitting second baseman after the cleanup hitter, but the jason kubel type in the fifth spot, the chunky dude who kinda sucks at baseball but hits dingers more often than not. gotta think about my lineup, guys!

7) Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson, wr. Michael Friedman: Well, this was good stupid fun. I think "Ten Little Indians" is a standout track, so clear a standout that it honestly belongs in a better work. It's a distillation of Native American history that doesn't seem to have any place in a musical recasting one of the shittiest presidents as a vain, morose emokid rock star, but then again, I listen to soundtracks and don't watch the shows, so fuck do I know about context. So, yeah, I dug "Ten Little Indians," and then everything else was fine and silly and took itself just unseriously that it never felt like American Psycho. Theatre in general isn't a good home for irony, but at least here, the sarcasm wasn't subtle, it was waving a giant flag the whole time saying "THIS IS DEF JOKES."

8) Gone Now, by Bleachers 9) Melodrama, by Lorde See, if I were a decent listener, I might have tried following up Gone Now with Melodrama. These reviews aren't being indexed in chronological order; I listened to Boomiverse before I gave Melodrama a spin, and looking back, I should've saved Gone Now for Friday to do a Jack Antonoff Power Block. I wonder if my opinion on these albums is colored by the interview I read where Jack Antonoff says he originally imagines all his songs for female voices, he writes his songs for women, then pitches them an octace down should they become Bleachers songs. And I found both Strange Desire and Gone Now to not really resonate with me, neither album really hitting me in the way an entity such as Bleachers should hit me. Bleachers is fun, '80s-inspired pop music -- I love that! But there's this weird disconnect I feel between the voice and the music, and I can't tell if that's a conclusion I arrived at on my own or if it was informed by that article, because while I didn't like Gone Now, I really loved Melodrama. Lorde and Antonoff work perfectly together, her voice gives life to a lot of things I heard but wasn't enthralled by on Gone Now, and they had a vision for this album -- songs have part twos! There's a reprise! ("Liability" is DOPE in the context of this album, y'all) -- which they executed sublimely. It's a complete, cohesive album that feels so much bigger than 11 songs, so full of weird ideas, and while I'm not sure how the mainstream is gonna react, I thought this was dope as hell, "dope as hell" being the highest praise my limited vocabulary has to offer.

10) Boomiverse, by Big Boi: One benefit of being just a dude on tumblr chronicling his experiences is that I didn't have to listen to and write a thinkpiece about a 70-minute Lil Yachty album. I only have to experience Lil Yachty through his features on other people's songs, do not have to contend with the totality of his vision. But, it is disappointing that professional music people DO have to write extended thinkpieces about Lil Yachty, when those words and thoughts and energies would have been far better spent on this album. This album is just good. There's no frills, minimal use of the obligatory Atlanta trap beat, clever rhymes, only occasional misogyny, and maybe the most jubilant rap track of 2017, "All Night." I honestly can't remember the last time I heard a hip-hop joint as joyous as "All Night." So much of my favorite hip-hop of the last few years hasn't been happy, and not even the justifiable "shit's fucked up" unhappy, the "sadness is the only valiid emotion" unhappy, and "All Night" is a statement that darkness is nothing without light.

11) Before Sunrise, dir. Richard Linklater: "Hey! I've been up since 1 AM, and it is presently 4:30! I'm going to put on this quet movie about a quiet night in Vienna so I can watch Before Sunrise before sunrise, LOL!" Yeah so I fell asleep during this one, team. Not long enough to feel like I missed a lot, not long enough for this film to lose its impact, but enough to feel like I failed this film. What I was able to see was great. It was like someone shot a podcast in Vienna, and that sounds like an insult, but I'm into movies that are just two people talking to each other, and I'd be into a podcast where two strangers try to fall in love in two hours, two people bullshitting about love and relationships and the future while wondering if they could be happy with the other person outside of the podcast. It didn't feel at all tempered knowing there's a sequel in the queue. Like, knowing these two people see each other again is disappointing, only in the sense that I don't get to live with the ending for 10 years before learning about the sequel, but at the same time, the characters don't know they're going to see each other again, and that last goodbye at the train is so heart-wrenching, the way she disappears behind the wall and the guy just follows her, trying to stay as close to her as possible.

12) Pinata, by Freddie Gibbs & Madlib: I will let nature review this album for me: I live in a garden level apartment, and outside my bedroom window, where I stationed my new computer, there's a bucket beneath the gutter in which water rests. Squirrels will occasionally come through, take a sip, and bounce. But as I was listening to this album, I saw that the squirrel was lingering outside my window. I assumed it was responding well to the vibrations created by Freddie Gibbs' pleasant, deep-voiced flow and the low-key production, and that it was enjoying the things it was feeling. This is music squirrels can enjoy, man, what more do you want. And then a Danny Brown feature came on, and that squirrel RAN, man. Like, I get it? I wouldn't expect a squirrel to respond well to Danny Brown, but I still feel that squirrel is missing out.

13) Whiplash, dir. Damien Chazelle: When I listen to music, I've found I connect to the drumming more than anything but the lyrics. Part of the reason I still listen to pop/punk is because literally every single pop/punk drummer is amazing, drumming so so fast every time. I also watch sports and speedrun streams, and one of the things that fascinates me is the maniacal drive to be great, this obsessive need to push yourself to some limit most would find unnecessary. So of COURSE I'm into a film which would marry the two, and which had the performance of a lifetime from JK Simmons, JK Simmons deserving all the plaudits he got for playing Malcom Tucker's long-lost American twin. I think Miles Teller was cat perfectly for the scenes where he's with JK Simmons, an arrogant nothing-boy who can convey talent and cluelessness, but Miles Teller is such a zero that the scenes with his family and girlfriend, where we're supposed to say "no nice boy don't isolate yourself from your loved ones to drum so good," just felt like "god shut the fuck up you whiny jerk." The film also didn't really address a couple of questions I thought might be relevant to the JK Simmons character. Does music still retain its meaning if you obsess over it to the extent that Fletcher does, do people still respond to his performances on an emotional level, or do they appreciate it on a purely technical level? There's that dinner scene, where someone in Miles Teller's family asks, "How can you have a music competition? Isn't it subjective?" and Miles Teller says, "No," but it never explores the idea of what chasing the parts of music which can be judged objective does to the music. The other question is, what right does Fletcher have to the next Charlie Parker? How does this white dude think he can own jazz? But I've spent more words finding what's problematic about the film than I did on what I liked, which is usually the sign of a great film, one I wanted to spend a lot of words thinking about.

[aslightstep]

Hmmm, what about 4 with Thor/Tony?

I’m laughing at clouds so dark up above/The sun’s in my heart and I’m ready for love!

Oh god I got weirdly literal with this. Song is:

Singin’ In the Rain

Besides Tony, Thor was the only Avenger who could fly.

Welllll, he wasn’t sure Thor flew so much as flung his hammer in a direction and held on. Then he sort of…hovered.

The point was, they were the eyes in the sky for their team. That sort of thing formed bonds, especially when Thor was actually an even bigger troll than Tony and liked to fly high in the air after battles and pretend he couldn’t hear Cap’s orders. “There is so much interference, Captain!” he called, and Tony smothered his snickers because he designed the damn comm units and specifically took cloud cover and massive amounts of electricity into mind. 

Cap sighed heavily and Thor turned to Tony with a grin. “Man of Iron, your suit is mighty indeed. But might is not everything.”

“I’m not sure what you’re implying there, but it sure isn’t about me, Mighty Thor.”

“Ha!” Thor boomed. “If your suit is as quick as your wit, I challenge you. A race! To the death!”

“No, Thor,” Cap commanded, managing that perfect mix of dead-inside and amused that Tony would give at least five thousand dollars to be able to replicate.

Thor frowned, silent, until Clint came to his rescue. “To the utter shame of the loser and eternal bragging rights to the winner?”

“I like it!” Thor announced, then pointed his hammer at Tony. “Do you accept my challenge, Man of Iron?”

“I’m pretty sure I can’t refuse,” Tony said wryly. It had been tough, trying to fit in with the team, even after their collective near-death bonding exercise that was the Chitauri attack, but this felt like what he would do with Rhodey. Like friendship. Maybe this team stuff wasn’t so bad.

Somehow, Tony lost, and the team razzed him for weeks. This team stuff was the worst.

Tony and Thor’s post-fight races got to be a regular occurrence, both trying to even the score as Tony would claim two wins, then Thor would have a hot streak. The city even called to recommend a designated ‘track’ situated between buildings that didn’t mind sudden fly-bys by missile-launching metal suits and large men wielding magic power tools. Fury complained once or twice, but it was good PR and, as Cap pointed out, Iron Man and Thor always got straight to work whenever the race was finished.

But sometimes, when it was late at night, and the quiet of the workshop got too loud, Tony would suit up to go flying. He used to go alone out in Malibu but now…now he had Thor.

“Hey,” he whispered the first time he woke Thor up for it. “Sorry about waking you up, and feel free to say no, but um. I can’t think. Or sleep. So. I’m gonna go flying. Do you want to come with?”

Thor had stared at him for a very long time, not even bleary-eyed even though Tony had heard him snoring, and then he nodded, retrieving Mjolnir. 

The first few times they didn’t even speak, just lazily drifted above and around the city. One night, though, Thor came for Tony instead of the other way around.

“I miss my home,” Thor confessed, and Tony twisted in the suit so it was facing him, face scrunching up in confusion.

“You go home all the time,” he said, and Thor shook his head.

“My brother is imprisoned, my mother heartbroken, and my father fading. I can never go home again.”

And Tony understood that. Going back their family mansion after his parents and Jarvis died, going into SI after Obie’s betrayal, going into the Malibu house with Pepper gone. They were just buildings now. It hurt, to realize Thor felt that pain, too. “Well, no matter what happens, big guy, you’ve always got a place with us.”

Thor nodded after a long pause, then smiled at Tony, and it was like the sun had dawned early. Tony damn near ran into a building. Thor laughed himself hoarse and they talked all through the night.

“Tony, I have seen kids at the zoo with more manners,” Natasha intoned dryly as the team watched Tony press himself against the windows.

“Um, do those kids own said zoo? No. These are my windows. Literally mine, I built them in the lab. Fucking Armortex, bulletproof my ass…” Tony muttered to himself, remembering his headfirst dive through the previous set. “Anyway, my manners, Romanov, are still in tact.”

“You’re leaving handprints,” Steve pointed out. “And you’re making me anxious.”

“You’re always anxious, you mother hen,” Tony said. “Besides, Thor’s coming in tonight.”

“We know,” the whole group said. Bruce continued with “You’ve only mentioned it a million times.”

“Eighty four, to be precise,” JARVIS added, and Tony groaned.

“Oh God, I hate you all.” Turning around, he saw all of them wearing a variation of a smirk. He pouted, feeling oddly defensive. “What? I like Thor.”

“We know,” they repeated as one, and Tony turned just so he could bang his head against the glass.

Thor indeed touched down thirty minutes later and they all gathered outside to greet him. Tony tried not to look too excited - the shit-eating grin Clint kept throwing him really helped keep that in check - but when Thor turned to him, Mjolnir swinging and an easy smile on his face to ask for a flight, Tony felt his face split into a wide, uncontrollable grin.

“Have him home before nine,” Steve commanded Thor with mock-severity. Thor gave a solemn bow in response. Tony rolled his eyes, heading over to the assembly line waiting for him.

“J, they don’t respect me,” he whined as the suit assembled.

“No, sir,” the AI said, sounding fond. “I think they do more than that.”

Thor wasn’t the same when he came back after Frigga and Loki’s deaths. He stayed indoors, for the most part, and kept to himself. Tony tried, but he just wasn’t very good at helping out. Every time he tried to talk to Thor he was met with silence. The god never looked up, never smiled. Tony knew about grief, knew he needed space but he thought…

It didn’t matter, he told himself as he kept to his lab. Clearly he was handling this wrong. Thor didn’t need a chatty engineer in his ear, not when he was going through so much.

“What are you doing?”

Tony very manfully did not scream but he also didn’t reprimand Butterfingers when he went rolling towards Clint, fire extinguisher in hand while he waited for his heartrate to go back to a normal level. When it did, he called the robot off from where it had cornered Clint against a workbench and a wall. “What’s up, Birdbrain?”

“You. Down here. Thor’s upstairs. He just lost his brother and mom, man. What are you doing?”

Tony grimaced. “I didn’t want to crowd him, Barton. I was kinda all over him.”

“Yeah? That was good for him, Tony. He was getting better. Now you’re never around and he’s just sad, all the time.” Tony looked down, doubtful and guilty, and Clint sighed. “You don’t have to talk, Tony. Knowing you, you’ve been babbling about absolutely nothing and half the reason you’re hiding down here is because you just remembered all the crazy shit you said. Just you being there will help him.”

“Why?” Tony asked, hating how whiny he came out. Clint looked at him like he was a moron and inexplicably he began to blush. He whirled away, ostensibly to put down his tools but mostly just to hide. “Okay. Okay. I’ll…I’ll go up in a few.”

He found Thor out on the terrace, staring up at the sky. Rainclouds had formed, although if they were natural or a manifestation of the thunder god’s grief, he wasn’t sure.

He came out suited up, and pulled Thor to his feet. “Come on, up,” he said. “We’re going flying. It’ll be good for you.”

The god followed him into the air, only hesitated a little. It was a good sign.

“I am so sorry,” Tony said when several minutes had passed. “I can’t say it enough. No one can.”

“No,” Thor agreed quietly. He had no comms so Tony was flying close to him. Close enough to touch.

Not letting himself think twice, Tony took Thor’s hand in his. “Follow me?” he asked, and Thor turned his head to look at him, even though he couldn’t see through the mask.

He dropped the hammer, letting himself hang in Tony’s grip. “Anywhere,” the god swore, and Tony swallowed hard before blasting upwards, through the air, the rain, through the clouds, until they came up on the other side, where the sun was filtering through. Below the world was gray, but up here it was bright, and quiet, and peaceful. They stayed there, hand in hand, for a very long time.

The tower was more quiet than he had ever heard it, the only sound the rain falling hard against the windows. There was glass everywhere, strewn across the floor with robot parts, even though it had been weeks by now.

What had he been thinking?

He’d wanted to protect everyone and he’d nearly killed them all with Ultron. No one had protested his leaving the Avengers and Thor-

Thor was gone. 

He sipped another glass of whiskey and quietly designed a cleaning bot in his mind, content to fall asleep there in the ruins like he had the past three nights when a knock came at the window.

He bolted upright, gauntlet forming around his hand, but when he saw who was there he froze.

Thor said something, frowning when he got no response. Well, yeah, buddy. No JARVIS, and FRIDAY wasn’t installed yet. Wearily, Tony walked to the window, pulled the latch, and heaved it open. “You’re back,” he said dully.

“You were not at the compound” was Thor’s response. He looked worried, his eyes halting at the circles under Tony’s eyes before roving down the rest of his frame.

“I told you.”

“Yes, but I thought-” Thor stumbled, looking frustrated with himself. “They miss you. I missed you.”

“Did you.”

Thor frowned, then raised his hand and ever so carefully placed it on one side of Tony’s neck. “I hurt you, I should not have. It was unkind of me, and you are-”

“How many licks did Ultron get in at you?” Tony interrupted, brushing Thor’s hand off, even though it had hurt. “We’re even.”

“Tony,” Thor said seriously, stepping closer. “Hear me. I am sorry.”

Tony wanted to protest, shake it off like he had Rhodey’s worry and Cap’s one thousand phone calls and texts and Bruce’s prominent absence. But this was Thor. He couldn’t do that. They didn’t do that. Instead he found himself curling forward into the god, head against his chest as strong arms wrapped around him.

“You’re forgiven, Point Break. One hundred percent,” he said into the chestplate. “’M sorry, too. I’m so sorry.”

Thor hushed him, running a hand through his hair before pulling back and lifting Tony’s head by the chin. “Fly with me?”

“The suit’s a mess. Haven’t built a new one.”

“I will not let you fall,” Thor promised.

They flew up through the clouds to the sun waiting above. Cautiously, Tony felt out for Thor’s hand, but the god grinned and tugged him in close. They hovered there, holding each other as sunlight filtered through the cirrus clouds above them. Tony felt lighter than he had in weeks.

“Wish we weren’t seven thousand feet in the air and I didn’t suffer from reduced lung capacity,” he grumbled, and he felt Thor’s chest rumble as he laughed.

“Pray tell, Man of Iron, why is that?”

“Don’t be coy,” Tony said snottily. “We are literally slow dancing on a cloud right now. You know how bad I wanna kiss you?” 

Thor grinned widely, bumping his forehead against the faceplate. “I have an idea. But wait the storm out up here with me, Tony. I wish to kiss you in the sun.”

“Sap,” Tony accused, laying his head back on Thor’s shoulder. He could wait a little longer.

[sandjsbeachbumbonanza]

Day 126 – Cape Point tour with Mansur and his tall tales

We had our early breakfast on the deck. Today started as a foggy day, but still pleasant. The hotel tracked down some avocado for J and we had a few raspberries this morning, so the day was off to a good start.

We met Mansur in reception shortly after 9am. (As usual, we were 10 minutes late.) We headed off on our Cape tour. The drive around the western Cape is beautiful. We highly recommend it. S says it looks like parts of the Pacific Coast highway in California. Indeed, Camps Bay is considered to be Malibu and the adjacent bay is considered to be Beverly Hills.

There was one particularly beautiful windy section of road called Chapman’s Peak Drive. It even has an ‘open air’ tunnel, which is exposed on the bay side. There is no railing protecting drivers from going off the cliff and we saw many motorcycles trying to do this at speed. It has 114 curves in 9km. Our guide, Mansur, made up a bunch of legend or plain malarkey, which a subsequent Google search proved to be a rather tall tale indeed. We will be taking everything he says going forward with a grain of salt, including his assertion that he knows a lot about wine even though he’s never tasted it. Everyone here at the hotel has multiple roles. Ever the investigator, J now thinks Mansur is the Fixer. He’s the guy who sorts shit out if there’s a problem. He will know how to ‘grease’ the local wheels. And he also does not know the word for “yes”. His version of “yes” is “that is correct”.

Our first stop on our tour was the penguin colony. It was really funny to see them up close. We even saw one building a nest. He kept walking over to a pile of sticks, picking one up with his beak and taking it back to another location where he was building the nest. This behaviour went on for the entire time we were watching him. On one trip, he got a little close to another penguin’s nest and got nipped in the bum for his insolence (see video above). These African penguins couple up and mate for life. J thought they were very cute and she liked seeing some of the couples snuggling together and playing with their chicks. S got into a staring contest with one of the penguins (see picture below).

Our next stop was Cape Point, a famous lighthouse. We learned about some of the area’s WWI and WWII history. Apparently there was a South African military presence in the area, not to protect the coast, but the water route from the US/UK to North Africa and Asia past the German U-boats as the Mediterranean was blocked. Apparently some of the first radar technology was developed and used here to spot U-boat conning towers and women were manning the radar stations. You could either walk up to the point or take a funicular. J was very excited to take the funicular. We met a large, jovial chap from Johannesburg who was quite perplexed to understand how we managed to travel to Cape Town during COVID. He was even more perplexed when we told him all the other places we had been.

The final stop on the tour was the Cape of Good Hope, which is the most south-westerly point in Africa. S enjoyed seeing Cape Rock, which is featured in the earliest Cape Town stamps from the mid-1800s. We saw some ostriches feeding near the ocean and a bunch of fishermen fishing. We learned that you have to catch and release the fish because you are not allowed to take fish out of the national park. Thankfully we didn’t, as we were stopped by the fish police on our way out of the park to see if we had any contraband fish onboard.

Mansur then took us to lunch at the Harbour House restaurant in Kauk Bay. On the way there, we passed by a small village called Fish Hoek. Mansur, in his usual way, told us a colourful story about Fish Hoek, that upon further fact checking, can only partially be confirmed. Mansur said Fish Hoek is best known for two things. First, it has the first police station ever to be robbed in South Africa. Apparently, annoyed by the lack of responsiveness by the police, two drunken chaps entered the police station and stole all the ammunition while the police slept. Allegedly they turned the ammunition in to the police station in the neighbouring town. All the police were fired and a wall was built around the station to protect it from future robberies. Second, this beach is known for three famous great white shark attacks. However, this doesn’t prevent people from visiting this beach, which remains quite popular. Mansur also mentioned that until very recently, the village was dry as people didn’t want the fishermen from the neighbouring towns to come into town to drink. This is also an embellishment. There were establishments that could sell alcohol, but they just recently opened their first bottle store. Maybe Mansur does this to spice things up as he’s been a guide at this hotel for 10 years and the truth is generally not as interesting as fiction.

The Harbour House restaurant overlooks the water. We were given a prime table overlooking the waves, which were crashing on some boulders. Every now and then a large wave would come in and the spray was quite impressive. Mansur informed us that on two prior occasions, in big storms, waves had actually crashed over the restaurant (which is more than 30 feet above the shoreline). Again, take this with a grain of salt. The only piece of useful information he gave us was that the seafood platter for 1 is actually big enough for 2 people. S says that as we didn’t order it, even this piece of information was of questionable utility. The seafood here was pretty good. S had oysters and sashimi. Each piece of sashimi was the size of three normal pieces of sashimi, so S had to cut them up. J was underwhelmed by the portion size of her very delicious mussels, particularly since she had been told that South African portions are generous. What a tease. See photo below.

After lunch, we headed back to the hotel. Today’s front desk manager, James, declined to move aperitivo hour up to 6pm and strictly opened the bar at 7pm. We believe this was because there are now other guests staying here. However, they only passed through the bar to get to their room with their sleeping toddler. James chatted with us and said we were the first foreign guests to stay here since December. Apparently also the locals who stay here don’t generally come to the bar, so aperitivo hour has been very quiet until we showed up. We think the staff are just being nice, but they have said they enjoy entertaining us and having some life in the bar. The canapés were great once again. We started with the Chenin Blanc but apparently they ran out at some point and tried to pawn a Sauvignon Blanc off on J. She was having none of it. She asked James to make a note on her guest file so that no one would ever give her Sauvignon Blanc again. After our canapés, James asked us if we were ready for our shrimp and crayfish cocktail. We were a bit surprised as we hadn’t ordered them. However, they were quite tasty. You get three large shrimp and one chunk of lobster tail. J liked the cocktail sauce as is, but S wanted to add Worcestershire. S also thinks it needs more horse radish. James also helpfully explained to J that South Africans call their lobster ‘crayfish’. J now understood why there was a grilled crayfish on the menu at Harbour House. We are looking forward to round two of the shrimp and ‘crayfish’ cocktail. For all we know, it’s already been ordered for us and will show up tonight during aperitivo hour.