#american brown ale

[auraeseer]

Perfect for the playing the Well Tempered Clavier . . .

[theamericanpin-up]

Al Buell - October 1961 Al Buell's Beauties Calendar Illustration - Brown & Bigelow Calendar Co. - American Pin-up Calendar Collection

[possible-streetwear]

Fatima Al Qadiri

[lifelovemusiq]

🎈🎉♊️🥳 [6-4-2023]

[elenichr]

Year of Lists

March Films

more awards-related stuff and then FREEDOM (what I chose to do with it is another thing but one thing I cannot be judged for is there are a LOT of movies this month, and that is positive)

must-watches in bold (these are in relation to other movies watched, and the time, not necessarily must-watches of all time)

Mighty Morphin Power Rangers: Once & Always (2023) *6ish, I guess? - does this count? It's nostalgia in an hour's worth. it's every bit as bad as you would hope. Great stuff.

American Fiction (2023) *7.5 - hell yeah. Finally, something important done in a pleasant, human, enjoyable way (see how much I sobbed during this awards season: so.many.super.sad movies - or if not sad, just.so.much, overall). Performances are out of this world; it has everything: humour, nuance, a bit of romance, a bit of sadness; it was so damn good to watch.

The Zone of Interest (2023) *6 - how do you rate this? that six is not representative of the movie at all, but here we are. Everything you've heard about this is true: it's masterful, definitely a gut punch, Sandra Hüller is having a great year; the sound(track) is out of this world. It says so much with so little. Yes, it's a movie about the Holocaust, but it's also, really, a movie about how we stand by and allow atrocities to happen. It's a movie about humanity's cruellest side: indifference - right now, and then, and always. There is much to be said here, a lot of conversation was around how Schindler's List worked as a movie, therefore, romanticised, by the movie lens, the Holocaust. I can see how The Zone of Interest tried really hard not to do that, and I can confidently say it's done so much for exposing how useless we can be in the face of tragedy, but with every day that passes, I keep thinking more and more that it hasn't escaped that movie lens. However, it does really well at asking the question of whether we can portray atrocities of this kind, and does it really make a difference when we try?

Dune: Part Two (2024) *7.5 - umm, this is so long I need to rewatch it to even have a formed opinion. In lieu of a rewatch, here are my current thoughts: it wouldn't have been half the movie it is without the soundtrack. Also currently my favourite soundtrack of all time. I could rave and rave about it. The performances were great all round. I really love that Villeneuve doesn't try to constantly capture people like the mega starts they are: see Timmy's double chin, constipated face, present in both movies, and at a close-up at that. Some scenes were visually and emotionally breathtaking but I'm not sure if this was the case because of the anticipation of seeing something loved in a book portrayed on screen. It felt busy and a bit disjointed, especially in comparison to Part 1. I so wish they'd done the romance differently. I was constantly thinking of The Bear and how well that worked there. I wish they'd let Paul and Chani's connection breathe and mature, taken us along for the ride.

Alice, Darling (2022) *6 - this gave How to Have Sex vibes. I love when a movie addresses difficult subjects (in this case, abuse) in a slice-of-life, uber real, awkward way. It dexterously looks at the outward indicators of abuse, the responsibility of friendship - some mild body horror for both symbolic and literal purposes.

The Sixth Sense (1999) *7.5 - they don't make them like this anymore. Boy, do I envy anyone who hasn't watched this and doesn't know anything about it. If you know that person, please, make them known, I want to sit them down and pop this in the cassette player (Netflix or Prime or whatever, but you know). It's only the second time I watched this because I thought there wasn't much reason to, apart from nostalgia. Surely, it's just so worthy because of the set-up. Yeah, yeah, I was wrong. I had to pause a couple of times to allow myself to digest the mastery of what this movie is when YOU DO KNOW.

Scarface (1983) *7 - what can I say? Yup, it's great. Colours are a highlight, as is Michelle Pfeiffer.

A Time to Kill (1996) *6 - disclaimer: I am going through legal dramas, I love 'em. This was fun, much more timely than I expected. Samuel L Jackson has a beautiful, beautiful speech. A man fancies a woman that is not his wife, and she is pretty, and young, and smart, and she ignites a spark in him, and she believes in what he's doing in all the ways his wife doesn't, and yet, said man doesn't cheat on said wife. Woohoo. I'm all for complexity and non-monogamy (when both, or more parties, agree to it) but it is just so beautiful to see a good marriage challenged and withstand the challenge. Bonus points for young Matthew McConaughey and infant Sandy Bullock. It's serious, it's legal fun, a bit naïve; the nineties in a two and a half hour ride.

Rush Hour; Rush Hour 2; Rush Hour 3 (1998) (2001) (2007) *6 *6 *5 - WAR UGH ... SO MUCH FUN. Yeah, they shouldn't be bunched together, yeah, a lot of it reads problematic, yeah, I wish I'd been watching them all my life. Great stuff. Don't look away at all the racist jokes, both ways, and any other way you can imagine. This is a superb example of looking at what we made for fun: there's so much to digest, learn from, appreciate. I LOVE JACKIE CHAN. When I was a kid, it was considered embarrassing to appreciate his work. I had a stupid-ass, DUH, moment of realisation watching this: oh, that 'martial arts movies are sub-par' idea? Yeah, blatant racism. It feels so good to come to this now. Side-note: Zhang Ziyi showing up in 2, what a treat. I'm not one for recycling material but can we have Rush Hour 4 please, please, please?

Blow Out (1981) *6 - another Brian de Palma, another good movie with its merits. Some of it was delicious in a movie buff way, but I was bored nonetheless. If you're into your legal, crime, journalistic slow-burners, go for it.

Decision to Leave (2022) *9 - triple bold. This is my favourite movie. It has been since I saw it in the cinema and cried in the toilets after. It is a masterpiece, Park Chan-Wook might well be my favourite director. There are not enough good things or good enough words I could say. Here's the best I can do rn: noir at its best, romance at its most complex, human nature at its barest, lyricism, depth, story for days, really unapologetic storytelling, no infantilising the audience here, crime at its most beautiful, and potentially the best ending scene cinema has ever seen. Watch this, watch The Handmaiden, watch Stoker, watch Oldboy (when I watch more of his movies, they'll be added to this). They're all in my great movies of all time (fictional) list. Side-note: WE ARE SLEEPING ON KOREAN CINEMA. We're getting there, but we're not even close. Still underrated.

Joy Ride (2023) *6 - does what it says on the tin. Also SO MUCH FUN.

[aixelsyd13]

New Year’s Day Pork & Sauerkraut II

I came to blog my recipe then through a search, discovered I posted one last year! That was in the roasting pan though, and it was a pork loin rib half. This year, I put a pork shoulder roast in the crock pot... and made some dumplings 2 ways too!

[mcmansionhell]

this house may or may not be real

on grayness in real estate

Allegedly, somewhere in Wake Forest, North Carolina, a 4 bed, 5.5 bathroom house totaling more than 6,600 square feet is for sale at a price of 2.37 million dollars. The house, allegedly, was built in 2021. Allegedly, it looks like this:

A McMansion is, in effect, the same house over and over again - it's merely dressed up in different costumes. In the 90s, the costume was Colonial; in the 2000s, it was vague forms of European (Tuscan, Mediterranean), and in the 2010s it was Tudor, dovetailed by "the farmhouse" -- a kind of Yeti Cooler simulacra of rural America peddled to the populace by Toll Brothers and HGTV.

Now, we're fully in the era of whatever this is. Whitewashed, quasi-modern, vaguely farmhouse-esque, definitely McMansion. We have reached, in a way, peak color and formal neutrality to the point where even the concept of style has no teeth. At a certain moment in its life cycle, styles in vernacular architecture reach their apex, after which they seem excessively oversaturated and ubiquitous. Soon, it's time to move on. After all, no one builds houses that look like this anymore:

(This is almost a shame because at least this house is mildly interesting.)

If we return to the basic form of both houses, they are essentially the same: a central foyer, a disguised oversized garage, and an overly complex assemblage of masses, windows, and rooflines. No one can rightfully claim that we no longer live in the age of the McMansion. The McMansion has instead simply become more charmless and dull.

When HGTV and the Gaineses premiered Fixer Upper in 2013, it seemed almost harmless. Attractive couple flips houses. Classic show form. However, Fixer Upper has since (in)famously ballooned into its own media network, a product line I'm confronted with every time I go to Target, and a general 2010s cultural hallmark not unlike the 1976 American Bicentennial - both events after which every house and its furnishings were somehow created in its image. (The patriotism, aesthetic and cultural conservatism of both are not lost on me.)

But there's one catch: Fixer Upper is over, and after the Gaineses, HGTV hasn't quite figured out where to go stylistically. With all those advertisers, partners, and eyeballs, the pressure to keep one foot stuck in the rural tweeness that sold extremely well was great. At the same time, the network (and the rest of the vernacular design media) couldn't risk wearing out its welcome. The answer came in a mix of rehashed, overly neutral modernism -- with a few pops of color, yet this part often seems omitted from its imitators -- with the prevailing "farmhouse modern" of Magnolia™ stock. The unfortunate result: mega-ultra-greige.

Aside from war-mongering, rarely does the media manufacture consent like it does in terms of interior design. People often ask me: Why is everything so gray? How did we get here? The answer is because it is profitable. Why is it profitable? I'd like to hypothesize several reasons. The first is as I mentioned: today's total neutrality is an organic outgrowth of a previous but slightly different style, "farmhouse modern," that mixed the starkness of the vernacular farmhouse with the soft-pastel Pinterest-era rural signifiers that have for the last ten years become ubiquitous.

Second, neutrals have always been common and popular. It's the default choice if you don't have a vision for what you want to do in a space. In the 2000s, the neutrals du jour were "earth tones" - beige, sage green, brown. Before that, it was white walls with oak trim in the 80s and 90s. In the 70s, neutrals were textural: brick and wood paneling. We have remarkably short memories when it comes to stylistic evolution because in real time it feels incremental. Such is the case with neutrals.

Finally, the all-gray palette is the end logic of HGTV et al's gamified methodology of designing houses with commodification in mind: if you blow out this wall, use this color, this flooring, this cabinetry, the asking price of your house goes up. You never want to personalize too much because it's off-putting to potential buyers. After twenty years of such rhetoric, doesn't it make all the sense in the world that we've ended up with houses that are empty, soulless, and gray?

A common realtor adage is to stage the house so that potential buyers can picture their own lives in it. In other words, create a tabula rasa one can project a fantasy of consumption onto. Implied in that logic is that the buyer will then impose their will on the house. But when the staged-realtor-vision and general-mass-market aesthetic of the time merge into a single dull slurry, we get a form of ultra-neutral that seems unwelcoming if not inescapable.

To impose one's style on the perfect starkness is almost intimidating, as though one is fouling up something untouchable and superior. If neutrality makes a house sell, then personality - at all - can only be seen as a detriment. Where does such an anti-social practice lead us? Back to the house that may or may not exist.

In my travels as McMansion Hell, I've increasingly been confronted with houses full of furniture that isn't real. This is known as virtual staging and it is to house staging as ChatGPT is to press release writing or DALL-E is to illustration. As this technology improves, fake sofa tables are becoming more and more difficult to discern from the real thing. I'm still not entirely sure which of the things in these photos are genuine or rendered. To walk through this house is to question reality.

Staging ultimately pretends (sometimes successfully, sometimes not) that someone is living in this house, that you, too could live in it. Once discovered, virtual staging erases all pretensions: the house is inhabited by no one. It is generally acknowledged (though I'm not sure on the actual statistics) that a house with furniture - that is, with the pretense of living -- sells easier than a house with nothing in it, especially if that house (like this one) has almost no internal walls. Hence the goal is to make the virtual staging undiscoverable.

If you want to talk about the realtor's tabula rasa, this is its final form. Houses without people, without human involvement whatsoever.

But what makes this particular house so uncanny is that all of these things I've mentioned before: real estate listing photography, completely dull interiors and bland colors all make it easy for the virtual furniture to work so well. This is because the softness of overlit white and gray walls enables the fuzzy edges of the renderings to look natural when mixed with an overstylized reality. Even if you notice something's off in the reflections, that's enough to cause one to wonder if anything in the house is real: the floors, the fixtures, the moulding, the windows and doors.

This is where things are heading: artifice on top of artifice on top of artifice. It's cheap, it's easy. But something about it feels like a violation. When one endeavors to buy a house, one assumes what one is viewing is real. It's one thing if a realtor photoshops a goofy sunset, it's another to wonder if anything in a room can be touched with human hands. I won't know what, if any, part of this estate costing over 2 million dollars actually exists until I visit it myself. Perhaps that's the whole point - to entice potential buyers out to see for themselves. When they enter, they'll find the truth: a vast, empty space with nothing in it.

The better this rendering technology gets, the more it will rely on these totally neutral spaces because everything matches and nothing is difficult. You are picking from a catalog of greige furniture to decorate greige rooms. If you look at virtual staging in a non-neutral house it looks immediately plastic and out of place, which is why many realtors opt to either still stage using furniture or leave the place empty.

Due to the aforementioned photography reasons, I would even argue that the greigepocalypse or whatever you want to call it and virtual staging have evolved simultaneously and mutualistically. The more virtual staging becomes an industry standard, the more conditions for making it seamless and successful will become standardized as well.

After all, real staging is expensive and depends on paid labor - selecting furniture, getting workers to deliver and stage it, only to pack it back up again once the property is sold. This is a classic example of technology being used to erase entire industries. Is this a bad thing? For freelance and contract workers, yeah. For realtors? no. For real estate listings, it remains to be seen. For this blog? Absolutely. (Thankfully there is an endless supply of previously existing McMansions.)

The thing is, real estate listings no longer reflect reality. (Did they ever to begin with?) The reason we're all exasperated with greige is because none of us actually live that way and don't want to. I've never been to anyone's house that looks like the house that may or may not exist. Even my parents who have followed the trends after becoming empty nesters have plenty of color in their house. Humans like color. Most of us have lots of warmth and creativity in our houses. Compare media intended for renters and younger consumers such as Apartment Therapy with HGTV and you will find a stark difference in palate and tone.

But when it comes to actually existing houses - look at Zillow and it's greige greige greige. So who's doing this? The answer is real estate itself aided by their allies in mass media who in turn are aided by the home renovation industry. In other words, it's the people who sell home as a commodity. That desire to sell has for some time overpowered all other elements that make up a home or an apartment's interiority to the point where we've ended up in a colorless slurry of real and unreal.

Fortunately, after ten years or so, things begin to become dated. We're hitting the ten year mark of farmhouse modernism and its derivatives now. If you're getting sick of it, it's normal. The whole style is hopefully on its last leg. But unlike styles of the past, there's a real, trenchant material reason why this one is sticking around longer than usual.

Hence, maybe if we want the end of greige, we're going to have to take color back by force.

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including extra posts and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar, because media work is especially recession-vulnerable.

[takami-takami]

The Uncommitted Movement and Uncommitted Delegates have been petitioning to have just one Palestinian-American speak at the DNC for months; among a sea of speakers, including a random border patrol agent, Trump voters, and the CEO of Uber.

They were told three words and no other explanation: "It's a no."

The delegates and Palestine protesters have been working tirelessly to get the DNC to rescind this decision on the last day of the convention and apply pressure. There is only one ethnic background that is not allowed to speak at the DNC, and that is Palestinians.

Georgia State Representative Ruwa Romman is at the top of the list of Palestinian democrats that were offered— of which the Uncommitted Movement and delegates generously offered the DNC to take their pick.

In case they don't let her speak, this is her speech.

"My name is Ruwa Romman, and I’m honored to be the first Palestinian elected to public office in the great state of Georgia and the first Palestinian to ever speak at the Democratic National Convention. My story begins in a small village near Jerusalem, called Suba, where my dad’s family is from. My mom’s roots trace back to Al Khalil, or Hebron. My parents, born in Jordan, brought us to Georgia when I was eight, where I now live with my wonderful husband and our sweet pets.

Growing up, my grandfather and I shared a special bond. He was my partner in mischief—whether it was sneaking me sweets from the bodega or slipping a $20 into my pocket with that familiar wink and smile. He was my rock, but he passed away a few years ago, never seeing Suba or any part of Palestine again. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss him.

This past year has been especially hard. As we’ve been moral witnesses to the massacres in Gaza, I’ve thought of him, wondering if this was the pain he knew too well. When we watched Palestinians displaced from one end of the Gaza Strip to the other I wanted to ask him how he found the strength to walk all those miles decades ago and leave everything behind. 

But in this pain, I’ve also witnessed something profound—a beautiful, multifaith, multiracial, and multigenerational coalition rising from despair within our Democratic Party. For 320 days, we’ve stood together, demanding to enforce our laws on friend and foe alike to reach a ceasefire, end the killing of Palestinians, free all the Israeli and Palestinian hostages, and to begin the difficult work of building a path to collective peace and safety. That’s why we are here—members of this Democratic Party committed to equal rights and dignity for all. What we do here echoes around the world.

They’ll say this is how it’s always been, that nothing can change. But remember Fannie Lou Hamer—shunned for her courage, yet she paved the way for an integrated Democratic Party. Her legacy lives on, and it’s her example we follow.

But we can’t do it alone. This historic moment is full of promise, but only if we stand together. Our party’s greatest strength has always been our ability to unite. Some see that as a weakness, but it’s time we flex that strength. 

Let’s commit to each other, to electing Vice President Harris and defeating Donald Trump who uses my identity as a Palestinian as a slur. Let’s fight for the policies long overdue—from restoring access to abortions to ensuring a living wage, to demanding an end to reckless war and a ceasefire in Gaza. To those who doubt us, to the cynics and the naysayers, I say, yes we can—yes we can be a Democratic Party that prioritizes funding our schools and hospitals, not for endless wars. That fights for an America that belongs to all of us—Black, brown, and white, Jews and Palestinians, all of us, like my grandfather taught me, together."

[sophaeros]

arctic monkeys for q magazine, june 2011 (x) (x)

ARCTIC MONKEYS: Inside Alex Turner's Head

Words Sylvia Patterson Portrait John Wright

The day Arctic Monkeys moved into their six bedroom, Spanish-style villa in the Hollywood Hills, where the first-floor balcony looked over the patio swimming pool, they knew exactly what to do.

"From the balcony, you could get on t'roof and jump in't pool," chirps the Monkeys' most gregarious member, drummer Matt Helders, in his homely Yorkshire way. "We looked at it and said, That's definitely gonna happen. So by the end, we did a couple of 'em. Somersaults in t'pool, from the roof. At night time."

In January 2011, as Sheffield and the rest of Britain endured its bitterest winter in a century, Arctic Monkeys capered among the palm trees, eschewing hotels for a millionaire's Hollywood homestead as they recorded and mixed their fourth studio album, Suck It and See.

The four Monkeys, alongside producer James Ford and engineer James Brown, lived what they called the "American man thing": watched Super Bowl on giant TVs, played ping-pong, hired two Mustangs, cooked cartoon Tom And Jerry-sized steaks on barbecues on Sundays, had girlfriends over to visit, all cooking and drinking around the colossal outdoor kitchen area featuring a fridge and two dishwashers. Living atop the Hills, they could see the Pacific Ocean beyond by day, the infinite glittering lights of downtown LA by night.

Every day, en route to Sound City Studios, they'd travel in a seven-seater four-by-four through the mountains, via bohemian 60s enclave Laurel Canyon, blaring out the tunes: The Stones Roses, The Cramps, the Misfits' Hollywood Babylon. For the sometime teenage art-punk renegades whose guitarist, Jamie Cook, was once ejected from London's Met Bar for refusing to pay €22 for two beers, the comedy rock'n'roll life still feels, however, absolutely nothing like reality.

NICK O'MALLEY: "It were really as if we were on holiday. When we came back it's the most post-holiday blues I've ever had!"

JAMIE COOK: "It's hard to comment on that. It were just really good fun."

MATT HELDERS: "We always said, As soon as things like that feel normal, we're in trouble. But it's just funny. You might think it would get more and more serious as you get older but it's getting funnier. We've done four albums now and I'm still only 24, I'm still immature to an extent. So who cares?"

Alex? Al? Are you there?

ALEX TURNER: "Yeah, it were good times. But we were in the studio most of the time. So there's no real wild Hollywood stories. Hmn. Yeah."

Wednesday, 16 March 2011, Strongroom Bar, Shoreditch, East London, 11am. Alex Turner, 25, slips entirely alone into an empty art-crowd brasserie looking like an indie girl's indie dream boy: mop-top bouffant hair which coils, in curlicues, directly into his cheekbones, army-green waist-length jacket, baggy-arsed skinny jeans, black cord zip-up cardigan, simple gold chain, supermoon sized chocolate-brown eyes.

Almost six years after I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor became the indie-punk anthem of a generation (from the first of Arctic Monkeys' three Number 1 albums), and nothing prepares you for the curious phenomenon of Alex Turner "in conversation". Unlike so many of the Monkeys frenetic early songs, he operates in slow motion, seemingly underwater, carrying a protective shell on his back, perhaps indie rock's very own diamond-backed terrapin. The most celebrated young wordsmith in rock'n roll today talks fulsomely, in fact, only in shapeless, curling sentences punctuated with "maybe... hmn.. yeah", an anecdotal wilderness sketching pictures as vague as a cloud. He is, though, simultaneously adorable: amenable, gentle, graceful, and as Northern as a 70s grandpa who literally greets you with "ey oop?".

"People think I'm a miserable bastard," he notes, cheerfully, "but it's just the way me face falls." Still profoundly private, if not as hermetically sealed as a vacuum-packed length of Frankfurter, his fante-shy reticence extends not only to his personal life (his four-year relationship with It-girl/TV presenter Alexa Chung, whom he never mentions) but to insider details generally. Take the Monkeys’ Hollywood high jinks documented above: not one word of it was described by Turner. Before Q was informed by his other Monkey bandmates, Turner’s anecdotal aversion unfolded like this:

Describe the lovely villa you were in. AT: "Well... we certainly had a... good view."

Of what? AT: "Well, we were up quite high."

The downtown LA lights going on forever? AT: "I dunno. It was definitely that thing of getting a bit of sort of sunshine. Is it vitamin D? If you can get vitamin D on your record, you've got a bit of a head start. So we'd get up and drive to the studio."

What were you driving? AT: "Nothing... spectacular. But yeah, we'd drive up the studio, spend all day there and sort of, y know, get back. To be honest... we had limited time. So we spent as much time as possible kind of getting into it, like, in the studio.

So your favourite adventures were what? AT: "Well, they were really… minimal. We were working out there!"

Any nightclubs or anything, perhaps? AT: "You really want the goss 'ere, don't you?"

Yes, please. AT: "I could make some up. Nah!"

And this was on the second time of asking. It's perhaps obvious: Alex Turner, one of the most prolific songwriters of his generation (four Monkeys albums and two EPs in five years, The Last Shadow Puppets side-project, a bewitching acoustic soundtrack for his actor/video director friend Richard Ayoade's feature-length debut Submarine), is dedicated only to the cause – of being the best he can possibly be. He simply remembers the songs much more than the somersaults.

Throughout 2009, Arctic Monkeys toured third album Humbug – the record mostly made in the Californian desert with Queens Of The Stone Age man-monolith Josh Homme – across the planet. While hardly some cranium-blistering opus, its heavier sonic meanderings considerably slowed the Arctic Monkeys' live sets and on 23 August 2009, Q watched them headline the Lowlands Festival, Holland and witnessed a hitherto unthinkable sight – swathes of perplexed Monkeys fans trudging away from the stage. With the sludge rock mood matching their cascading dude-rock hair it seemed obvious: they'd smoked way too much outrageously strong weed in the desert.

"Heheheh, yeah," responds Turner, unperturbed. "That's your theory. You probably weren't alone."

Back in the Strongroom Bar, Turner's arm is now nonchalantly draped along the back of a beaten-up brown leather sofa. He ponders his band's somewhat contrary reputation…

"I think starting the headline set at Reading with a cover of a Nick Cave tune perhaps was a bit contrary. D'youknowhat Imean?! But to be honest, that summer, at those festivals, we had a great time. And I know some fans enjoyed those sets 10 times more. And you can't just do, y’know, another Mardy Bum or whatever. Because how could you, really?"

With Humbug, notes Turner, "I went into corners I hadn't before, because I needed to see what were there," but by spring 2010 he wanted their fourth album to be "more song-based" and less lyrically "removed". He was "organised this time", studied "the good songwriters" (from Nick Cave, The Byrds and Leonard Cohen to country colossi Johnny Cash and Patsy Cline), discovered "the other three strings" on his guitar, and wrote 12 songs through the spring and summer of 2010, mostly in the fourth-floor New York flat he shared with Chung before the couple moved back to London late last summer (the New York MTV show It's On With Alexa Chung was cancelled after two seasons). The result: major-key melodies, harmonised singing and classic song structures.

At the same time he revisited the opposite extreme: bands such as Black Sabbath and The Stooges ("we wanted a few wig-outs as well"); he was also still heavily influenced by the oil-thick grinder rock of Josh Homme, who is clearly now a permanent Monkeys hero. After four months' rehearsals in London, on 8 January the Monkeys relocated to LA for five swift weeks of production and Homme came to visit, singing backing vocals on All My Own Stunts. Tequila was involved.

"Tequila is probably me favourite," manages Turner, by way of an anecdote. "But it takes a certain climate... It's not the same... in the rain. Yeah. [Looks to be contemplating a lyric] Tequila in the rain."

Vocally, he developed the caramel richness first unveiled on The Last Shadow Puppets' Scott Walker-esque The Age Of The Understatement, finding a crooner's vibrato. "Everything before was so tight,” he notes, clutching his neck. "Probably just through nerves. That's just not there any more." Suck It and See contains at least four of the most glittering, sing-along, world-class pop songs (and obvious singles) of Arctic Monkeys' career: the towering, clanging She's Thunderstorms, the summertime stunner The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala, the heavenly harmonised title track and the Echo & The Bunnymen-esque jangly pop of closer That's Where You're Wrong.

Elsewhere, in typically contrary "fashion", there's preposterous head-banger bedlam (Brick By Brick, the rollicking faux-heavy rock download they released in March "just for fun", featuring vocals by Helders; Don't Sit Down 'Cause I've Moved Your Chair, and Library Pictures). News arrives that the first single proper will be Don't Sit Down 'Cause I've Moved Your Chair. Q is perplexed. Brilliantly titled, certainly, but arriving after Brick By Brick, the new album will appear to the planet as some comedy pastiche metal album for 12-year-old boys.

You've got all these colossal, summery, indie-pop classics and you've gone for... The Chair? AT: [Laughing uproariously] "The Chair! I'm now calling it The Chair, that's cool. Well for once it weren't even our suggestion. It was Laurence's (Bell, Domino label boss). And I were, Fucking too right! He's awesome. It'd be good to get a bit of fucking rock'n'roll out there, won't it? It's riffs. It's loud. It's funny."

If you don't release The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala as a single I'm going round Domino to kick Laurence's "awesome" butt. AT: "I think it'll be the next one!"

The record's title, meanwhile, could've been more enigmatically original than the un-loved phrase Suck It and See. The band, struggling with ideas due to the opposing sonic moods, invented an inspiration-conjuring ruse: to think of new names for effects pedals in the style of Tom Wolfe, Turner being long enamoured with the American author's legendarily psychedelic books The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test and The Kandy-Kolored Tangerine-Flake Streamline Baby, "cos that just sounds awesome".

"There's the Big Muff pedal," he elaborates, "That’s the classic. I've got the Valve Slapper. And there's the Tube Screamer. So we came up with the Thunder Suckle Fuzz Canyon. And… wait till I assemble it in me mind… em… it'll come to me… The Blonde-O-Sonic Shimmer Trap. So we were going for summat like that."

A wasted opportunity?

"Nah. Because some of those things ended up in the lyrics anyway. Suck It and See was just easier."

Alex Turner, rock'n'roll's premier descriptive art-poet, still writes his lyrics long-hand in spiral-bound notebooks. "Writing lyrics is a craft that I've practised a bit now," he avers. "In me notebook it looks like sums. Theories. There's words and arrows going everywhere. There's always a few possibilities and I write the word 'OR' in a square."

For our most celebrated colloquial sketch-writer of the everyday observation (all betting pencils, boy slags and ice-cream van aggravations) the more successful he becomes, the less he orbits the ordinary. "I'm not struggling with that, to be honest," he decides. "In fact I'm enjoying writing lyrics much more than I did. Stories. Describing a picture. Um. There's quite a bit of weather and time in this one. Which is probably not reassuring. 'Oh God, he's writing about the weather.' Maybe leave that out!"

There are also some direct, funny, romantic observations: "That's not a skirt, girl, that's a sawn-off shotgun/And I only hope you've got it aimed at me..." (from the title track).

Some of your romantic quips, now, must be about Alexa. AT: "Right. Yeah. Definitely. Well... there's always been that side to our songs, when we weren't writing about... the fucking taxi rank. It's kind of inevitably... people you're with." [At the mention of Chung's name, Turner is visibly aggrieved, head sliding into his neck, terrapin-esque indeed.]

It must have been very grounding being in a proper relationship through all this madness. Because if you weren't, girls would be jumping all over your head. AT: "Em. Hmn. Well, of course that helps you to... I don't really know.. what the other way would be."

Does Alexa wonder if the lyrics are about her? AT: "Oh there's none of that. Yeah, no, there's no looking over the shoulder."

She must be curious, at least. "Maybe."

Did you ever watch Popworld? AT: [Nervous laughter] "Em! Now and again."

Did you ever see the episode where she helps Paul McCartney write a song about shoes? AT: "Ah, yeah I think so, maybe I did see that."

Well, if I was you, I'd have been thinking, "She's the one for me." AT: "Well. Yeah... maybe that would've... sealed the deal! Hmn. But maybe that wasn't when i got the ray of light. When was? Nah [buries head in hands]. I might have to go for a cigarette..."

Q can't torture him any more and joins him for a snout. Turner smokes Camels from a crumpled, sad, soft-pack and resembles a teenager again. As early song You Probably Couldn't See For The Lights But You Were Staring Straight At Me says, "Never tenser/Could all go a bit Frank Spencer…”

In January 2006, when Arctic Monkeys' Number 1 album Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not became the fastest-selling debut in UK history, inadvertently redefining the concept of autonomy and further imploding the decimated music industry (& wasn't their idea to be "the MySpace band", it was their fans': the Monkeys merely kick-started viral marketing by giving away demos at gigs), the 19- and 20-year-old Monkeys were terrible at fame. They weren't so much insurrectionary teenage upstarts as teenage innocents culturally traumatised by the peak-era fame democracy.

To their generation (born in the mid-'80s) fame was now synonymous with some-twat-off-the-telly a world of foaming tabloid hysteria where renown and celebrity meant, in fact, you were talentless. Hence their interview diffidence and receiving awards via videos dressed up as the Wizard OfOz and the Village People. Which only, ironically, made them even more celebrated and famous. (“That were a product of us just trying to hold onto the reins," thinks Turner today. "Being uncooperative.")

Q meets The Other Three one morning at 11am, in the well-appointed, empty bar of the Bethnal Green, Bast London hotel they're staying in (all three live in Sheffield, with their girlfriends, in their own homes). First to arrive is the industrious, sensible and cheerful Helders, crunching into a hangover-curing green apple. He has recovered from last year's boxing accident at the gym, which left his broken arm requiring a fitted plate. Now impressively purple-scarred, the break felt "interesting" and the doctor couldn't resist the one-armed drummer jest: "D'you like Def Leppard?"

Currently enjoying an enduring bromance with Diddy, he still doesn't feel famous, "it just doesn't feel that real, there's no paparazzi waiting for me to trip up." He and Turner, during the four-month rehearsals last year, became an accomplished roast dinner cooking duo for the band. "I reckon we could have us our own cookbook," he beams. "Pictures of us stirring, with a whisk."

O'Malley, an agreeable, twinkly-eyed 25-year-old with a strikingly deep voice and a winningly huge smile, is still coyly embarrassed by the interview process. A replacement for the departed original bass player Andy Nicholson in May 2006, he went from Asda shelf-filler to Glastonbury headliner in 13 months and still finds the Monkeys "a massive adventure". His life in Sheffield is profoundly normal – he's delighted that his new home since last October has an open-hearth fireplace: "Me parents had electric bars." He has also discovered cooking. “I’m just a pretty shit-hot housewife, most of the time," he smiles. "I cook stews, fish combinations, curries, chillies. I made a beef pho noodle soup the other day, Vietnamese, I surprised meself, had some mates round for that."

Recently, at his dad's 50th birthday bash, the party band, made up of family and friends, insisted he join them onstage "for ...The Dancefloor. So I were up there [mimes playing bass, all sheepish] and it were the wrong pitch, they didn't know the words or 'owt, going, Makin eyes... er..." He has no extra-curricular musical ambitions. "I'm happy just playing bass," he smiles. "I've never had the skill of doing songs meself. It'd be shit!"

Cook, 25, is still spectacularly embarrassed by the interview process. He perches upright, with a fixed nervous smile, newly shorn of the beard and ponytail he sported in LA: "Rockin' a pone, yeah, because I could get away with it." With his classic preppy haircut and dapper green military coat (from London's swish department store, Liberty), he looks like a handsome '40s film star. (Turner deems Cook "the band heartbreaker" and had a word with him post-LA: "I said to him, Come on, mate, you've got to get that beard shaved off. Get the girls back into us. Shift some posters.")

His life in Sheffield is also profoundly normal. He still plays Sunday League football with his local pub team, The Pack Horse FC (position, left back), remains in his long-term relationship with page-three-model-turned-make-up-artist Katie Downes and "potters about" at home, refusing to describe said home, "cos I'll get burgled".

A tiler by trade, he always vowed, should the Monkeys sign a deal, that he'd throw his trowel in a Sheffield river on his last day of work. "I never did fling me trowel," he confirms. "Probably still in me shed." He's never considered what his band represents to his generation. "I'd go insane thinking about it, I'm pretty good at not thinking about it… Oh God. I'm terrible at this!"

Back in the Strongroom Bar, Alex Turner is cloudily describing his everyday life. "I just keep meself to meself," he confounds. He mostly stays indoors and his perfect night in with Alexa is "watching loads of Sopranos. And doing roast dinners".

No longer spindle-limbed, he attends a gym and has handsomely well-defined arms – "You have to look after yourself."

Suddenly, Crying Lightning from Humbug rumbles over the bar stereo. "Wow. How about that? I was quite happy the other morning cos Brick By Brick were on the round-up goals on Soccer AM. It's still exciting when that happens. It was like Brick By Brick is real."

He spends his days writing music, "listening to records", and recommends Blues Run The Game by doomed '60s minstrel Jackson C Frank ("who's that lass?... Laura Marling, she did a cover recently), a simple, acoustic, deep and regretful stunner about missing someone on the road.

Lyrically, he cites as an example of greatness the Nick Cave B-side Little Empty Boat [from ‘97 single Into My Arms ], a comically sinister paean to a sexual power struggle: "Your knowledge is impressive and your argument is good/But I am the resurrection babe and you're standing on my foot."

"I need a hobby," he suddenly decides. "I'd like to learn another language." Since his mum is a German teacher (his dad teaches music), surely he can speak some German? "I know how to ask somebody if they've had fun at Christmas." Go on, then. "Nah!"

Where Turner's creative gifts stem from remains a contemporary rock'n'roll mystery; he became a fledgling songwriter at 16, after the gift of a guitar at Christmas from his parents. An only child, did his folks, perhaps, foresee artistic greatness? "I doubt it!" he balks. "Cos I didn't. I wasn't... a show kid." Like the others, he doesn't analyse the past, or the future.

"You can't constantly be thinking about what's happened," he reasons, "it's just about getting on with it." The elaborate pinky ring he now constantly wears, however, a silver, gold and ruby metal-goth corker featuring the words DEATH RAMPS is a permanent reminder of he and his best friends’ past. The Death Ramps is not only a Monkeys pseudonym and B-side to Teddy Picker, but a place they used to ride their bikes in Sheffield as kids.

"Up in the woods near where we lived," he nods. "Just little hills. But when you're eight years old they're death ramps." The ring was custom made by a friend of his, who runs top-end rock'n'roll jewellery emporium The Great Frog near London's Carnaby Street. Ask Turner why he thinks the chase between his writing and speaking eloquence is quite so mesmerisingly vast and he attempts a theory.

"Well, writing isn't the same as speaking," he muses. "Not for me. I seem to struggle more and more with... conversation. Talking onstage... I can't do it any more. Hmn. I'll have to work on that."

The ever-helpful Helders has a better theory.

"Since he's been writing songs," he ponders, “It seems like he’s always thinking about that. So even when he’s talking to you now, he’s thinking about the next thing that rhymes with a word. Even when he’s driving. We joke he’s a bad driver, his focus is never 100 per cent on what he’s doing. Which is good for us cos it means he’s got another 12 songs up his sleeve. I think music must be the easiest way for him to be concise and get everything out. Otherwise his head would explode.”

The Shoreditch.com photo studios, 18 March. Alex Turner, today, is more ethereally distracted than ever, transfixed by the studio iPod, playing Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, a version of I’d Rather Go Blind. Occasionally, he’ll completely lose his conversational thread, “Um. I’ve dropped a stitch.”

The first to arrive for Q’s photoshoot, he greets his incoming bandmates with enormous hugs (and also hugs them goodbye). Today, Q feels it’s pointless poking its pickaxe of serious enquiry further into Turner’s vacuum-packed soul and wonders if he’ll play, instead, a daft game. It’s called Popworld Questions, as first posed by someone he knows rather well.

“Oh, OK. Let’s do it,” he blinks, now perched in an empty dressing room. He then vigorously shakes his head, “Um…I’ve gotta snap back into it.”

Here, then, are some genuine “Alexa Chung on Popworld” questions (2006-2007), as originally posed to Matt Willis, Amy Winehouse, Robbie Williams, Pussycat Dolls, Kaiser Chiefs and Diddy.

Why do indie bands wear such tight jeans? AT: “Um. I supposed they do. They haven’t always. When we first were playing I was definitely in flares. You need to be quite tall to get the full effect, though. So, that's why this indie band wears such tight jeans, cos we've not got the legs for flares."

What makes you tick in the sexy department? AT: "Wow. Pass. What do I find most attractive in a woman? Something in the head? That's definitely a requirement. Well... Hmn. I'm struggling."

Tell us about all the lovely groupies. AT: "No!"

If dogs had human hands instead of paws, would you consider trying to teach them to play the piano? AT: "Absolutely. I'd teach Hey Jude."

How many plums d'you think you can comfortably fit in one hand? AT: "They're not very big. [Holds small, pale, girly hand up for inspection] It's a shame. Probably three. Diddy only managed two? Maybe not then. I can carry a lot of glasses at once, though. If they're small ones I can do four."

Are you cool? AT: "Not as much as I'd like to be. There's this clip where Clint Eastwood is on a talkshow and he gets asked, Everybody thinks of you as defining cool, what d'you think about that? And he gets his cigs out, takes one out, flicks it into his mouth, lights it and says, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Here, Turner locates his Camels soft-pack and attempts to do a Clint Eastwood. He flicks one upwards towards his mouth. And misses. Flicks another. And misses. "Third time lucky?" He misses. "I'll get it the next time." And succeeds. "Hey. Fourth time. Don't put that in! So there you go. I'm four steps away from where I wanna be."

Thank you very much for joining me here on Popworld, here's my clammy hand again. There it is, let it slip, hmmn. You can let go now. AT: "OK! Were you a Popworld fan, then? It was funny. Cool. What were we talking about, before?"

Blimey, Alex. What must you be like when you're completely stoned out of your head? AT: "Stoned? What d'you mean, cos I seem like that anyway? Yeah. A lot of people... tell me I'm a bit... dreamy. But I like the idea of that. Of being somewhere else."

Two days earlier, Turner had contemplated what he wanted from all this, in the end. Many seconds later he gave his deceptively ambitious answer.

"I just wanna write better songs," he decided. "And better lyrics. I just definitely wanna be good at it. Hmn. Yeah.”

—

RUFUS BLACK: AKA Matt Helders, on his ongoing bromance with Diddy

Matt Helders has known preposterous rap titan Diddy since they met in Miami in 2008. “He goes, Arctic Monkeys! Then he said summat about a B-side and I was like, He's not lying! I just thought, This is funny, I'm gonna go with this for a while." Last October Diddy texted Helders, suggesting he play drums with his Diddy Dirty Money band on Friday Night With Jonathan Ross, to give his own drummer a day off. “I were bowling with me girifriend at the time. In Sheffield, on a Sunday." On the day of recording, says Helder, "We had a musical director. That were one of the maddest times of my life. Next day Diddy said, Why don't you just stay? Come along with me. So I went everywhere with him." Diddy had "a convoy of cars" and made sure Helders was always in his. "He'd stop his car and go, Where's Matt? You're coming with me! So I'd get in his car. Just me, him, his security, driver." Diddy, by now, had given him a pseudonym - Rufus Black. "He kept saying, I don't wanna fuck up your image. And I'm, I don't think it's gonna do me any harm!" He stayed in Diddy's spectacularly expensive hotel. Some weeks later, Helders almost returned to the Dirty Money drumstool for a gig in Glasgow. "But we were rehearsing in London. I were like, I might come, how are you getting there? And he were like, Jet. Jump on t’jet with me. But I had to stay in Bethnal Green instead.”

Love’s young dream: Diddy (left) with Helders

[nimrochan]

No disrespect, and I want to say that jewish people should absolutely be safe and feel welcome and happy everywhere in the world. But how can you talk positively about moving to Israel, paying taxes to a government, that has been confirmed to have killed 13.000 children? Do you not see an issue with moving to a state that has been determined by the ICJ to be committing a genocide right now?

Thank you for your question. I’ll do my best to answer this as an Israeli-American with a more inside perspective than most people who haven’t been in the area.

Incoming novel.

First off, I encourage you to read my pinned post.

Second, I believe Israel is a tiny country that as being held to an impossible standard. The situation there is very unique and I ask you to not compare it to others.

(I promise I’m going somewhere with this) in the past ten years, half a million Syrians and half a million Yemenis died in civil war in what I think are actual genocides. Millions more are refugees. China forcibly puts its Muslim citizens in “re-education” camps, another form of cruelty and cultural genocide. There are other genocides actually happening in Congo and Darfur and other places. There are humanitarian crises in Arab countries regarding the horrific treatments of women. And in North Korea, the situation has always been dire - it contains a concentration camp the size of Rhodes island.

This leads me to ask- why is the hate for Israel so widespread and deep? I’ve never seen protests addressing these aforementioned issues so passionately. I almost NEVER see them addressed on social media. I have never seen Russian, Chinese, Afghani people etc in places OUTSIDE of their countries being harassed to the extent that Jews and Israelites are. Jews outside of Israel have been harassed and attacked, some have even been murdered. Our synagogues and graveyards have been vandalized. Thousands, maybe tens of thousands of people openly march for our deaths rather than to condemn terrorism or condemn far more horrible governments. I can only come to the conclusion that it’s antisemitism. It’s not a coincidence that the only Jewish country in the world a) has such a microscope over it, b) is one of the most terrorized countries in the world, and c) has so much widely-accepted misinformation regarding it. Including the whole “white colonizer” narrative - most Israelis are brown.

The UN has a history of not accepting Israel as a country and disregarding the years of constant terrorism against it. It has not acknowledged 10/07. The voters of the ICJ include Bashar Al Assad who is the president of Syria. Yes that same Syria that kills its own people. Another voter is from China. Same China with countless human rights violations. Another voter whose name escapes me now made motions to deny humanitarian crises in other Arab countries. So between the UN and the ICJ voters, the parties are extremely biased and ignore far worse issues. So I am not going to take them seriously. I hope you ask yourself what else may have skewed your perspective on the war, if such big international organizations are demonstrably biased.

Genocide is done with intent. In the last 50 years, the Palestinian population has grown FASTER than the world’s Jewish population. I can tell you first hand, as someone with many family members who have served in the IDF, and who knows how strong the Israeli military is - genocide is not, has never been, and will never be the intention of Israel. If it WANTED to commit genocide, I guarantee you that absolutely far more Palestinians would have been slaughtered and I would tear up my passport in that case.

When the LEADERS of a county cross a border into ANOTHER country, unprovoked, and personally slaughter and rape thousands of civilians, that is genocide and that is declaring war. It’s a very small scale genocide, but technically it is. If you read the charter of Gaza, it actually states the goal of killing all Jews. Hamas killed the maximum number of Israelis that was in their power at the time. Including people that my own family were close to.

Growing up in Israel, among some Arabs, I can tell you that no one EVER taught me to hate Arabs. In fact they taught us Arabic in school along with English. All street signs are in English, Hebrew, and Arabic. Meanwhile across the border, their government put guns in kids’ hands and teach them that Jews are pigs. And I don’t think they’re considerate enough to put any of their public signs in Hebrew.

You can see pictures online of Hamas dressing up their kids as child soldiers.

I don’t know if you ever saw the footage of Hamas driving around Gaza with dead bodies after the 10/07 attack and many Gazan civilians celebrating and dancing with their kids and handing out candies, mutilating the bodies further. Look up Shani Louk.

While a handful of Israelis are openly racist (just like there are racists everywhere else on the planet), you will NEVER see something this horrific on Israeli streets. NEVER.

Obviously, not all Gazan civilians are this heinous and nobody should be punished for where they were born (and anti-Israelis are lost on the irony of calling all Israelis kid-murdering genocide-lovers who deserved what happened to them including rape and infantacide). But I want you to ask yourself, If this was My country, how would they respond? I don’t think Israel is responding WORSE than America or other strong countries would. Again that leads me to ask why the hate is out of proportion even for their strong response.

The Ministry of Health in Gaza reports that about 30-40K casualties by Israel. Now that organization is run by… Hamas. But okay, I’m willing to believe that number. I’m willing to believe that that number is double. And I’m extremely saddened by innocent Gazans suffering because of the carelessness and evil of their leaders. But let’s look at the number for now.

Israel reports that about 17,000 of the people killed in Gaza are Hamas militants. That leaves a civilian-combatant ratio of 1:1.2 - 1:2. That’s… average for war. For a dense urban area like Gaza? That is LOW. That does not fit the definition of genocide. It is war, and it sucks, but it’s not genocide.

As for children dying - We do not yet know exactly the number of children who are militants. A baby is counted as a child, but so are the 15-17 year old child soldiers that Hamas recruits. So now the line is blurring.

Not to mention, Hamas has been caught altering birth dates on records of dead Gazans to bring their ages down. Some 18-year-olds are falsely reported as being 17 at death to falsely increase the numbers of killed children on paper.

To go a little off topic, Al Jazeera has also been caught numerous times censoring Gazans criticizing Hamas and reporting biased news. Heck they even reported the rape and murder of my people as “a necessary step.” Look up Howidy Hamza, a Palestinian reporter who talks about Hamas. Hamas is unbelievably cruel to their own people. Yet protests in the US and around the world praise them.

Let’s go back to Israel being the most terrorized country in the world behind Somalia. Do you know what’s going on in Somalia? Of course probably not - another crisis largely ignored by the world because it’s not as exciting or interesting.

Again I grew up in Israel. In the 90’s there was a rash of suicide bombings on buses by the PLO, so I remember avoiding buses as a child out of fear. I also remember waiting in line with my family to get free gas masks because Saddam Hussein once threatened biological warfare on us. Fun times.

I went back to visit in 2015 - this time, a trend of Palestinian civilians in Israel randomly stabbing Jews or running over them or throwing rocks at them. Some Palestinian teens threw rocks into traffic and killed a 2-year old.

And in the past 20 years at least, Hamas and OTHER parties have been sending rockets into Israel. Into civilian areas. Do you think that’s normal? Do you think it’s normal to have apps to alert you to rockets and to have so many bomb shelters? Have you ever spoken to a relative overseas and heard rockets in the background while on the phone with them?

Do you know how many hundreds of thousands of us would be dead if it weren’t for the iron dome?

EDITED TO ADD: Israel responds to rocket fire to destroy the source, because the iron dome is not perfect and CONTINUED firing eventually harms Israeli civilians. Yes, Hamas makes sure to fire rockets from Gazan civilian areas. Another note I want to bring up - I don’t know how many Gazans are displaced currently, I have a hard time finding a nonbiased source, but I would guess around 750K - 1.2 million. If they are displaced RATHER then killed, that’s another contradiction to calling this war a genocide.

Do you know why Gaza has received billions of dollars in aid over the years - enough to turn it into a living paradise - only for Hamas to use it to build underground tunnels and rockets for the purpose of attacking a country that has NEVER in its history attacked first or started any wars? (Yes, believe it or not, Israel has never STARTED a war since its inception).

The other problem with Gaza is Hamas intentionally having military targets under densely populated areas. When Israel warns civilians to leave, via leaflets or alerts, many times Hamas threatens them to stay and become martyrs. On top of it, they dress as civilians and recruit children, and fire rockets from refugee camps and apartment buildings and schools and hospitals. This is neither legal nor ethical warfare.

Israel does not, has never put military targets near civilian, nor does the IDF recruit children or dress as civilians. That’s a bare minimum.

I won’t deny that members of the IDF have done shitty things, just like the American army and other armies around the world have probably done, but if I had to choose between the country with the military that wants me dead and Israel… yeah. At least rape and other torture are ILLEGAL for the IDF. Meanwhile Hamas continues to freely rape hostages as I type this. Because they make the laws there.

Yes Israel cares more about its own citizens than foreign citizens like Gaza, but again, that’s no more evil than other normal countries.

To address another stereotype about Israel being a racist and apartheid state - there are two million Arab Israelis living peacefully there. There are Arab countries who hold peace treaties with Israel.

So you tell me in your ask, Jews should be safe and welcomed around the world. The sentiment is appreciated, but this is not the case with reality, sadly. There is NO population of 2 million Jews in any other middle eastern country. Many of us left for Israel due to severe oppression. There are no more Jews in Yemen for example. My grandfather left for Israel from his home in Lebanon because some officials wanted him dead. Why? For committing the crime of smuggling Jews through Lebanon to escape the Holocaust.

My grandparents on my mother’s side escaped post-war Poland because of violent lingering antisemitism.

They would have had NOWHERE to go without Israel.

And we are NOT safe outside of Israel or even in Israel because of the intense hatred. We have been scapegoats for society’s problems for thousands of years and I don’t see it improving any time soon.

How can I talk positively about Israel? It’s the most liberal and progressive country in the Middle East. It’s the only country where it’s legal and safe to be openly gay for example, and it’s the only country there that holds annual pride.

It’s a middle eastern country where I, as a secular woman, can dress how I want, marry who I want, get abortions if I needed, own property, own money, have a prestigious job, and *checks notes* drive.

It’s also the only Jewish country in the world. It’s the place I’ve felt the safest and happiest, surrounded by my own people and family and sometimes I wish my parents and I never left, because I am personally feeling the antisemitism when I march peacefully and get nasty comments, or when I lose long time close friends left and right for being a “genocidal Zionist”, or when I see antisemitic graffiti and signs everywhere I walk.

My taxes in Israel would pay for hospitals that treat people from all around the world including Palestinian children for free. It would pay for the iron dome that keeps my family safe.

My taxes in America have been used to oppress women, and for horrific military actions, etc. and America itself is LITERALLY built on colonial genocide and the backs of slaves. Slightly related, most of North Africa was colonized by Arabs who ran a larger slave trade than the US. I’ve never learned that in school! I’ve never seen anyone talk about that! I’ve never seen Americans or Arabs in other countries get attacked for these things (to be fair, I’m very aware of the racism Arabs and Muslims did feel in the US after 9/11 and I absolutely condemn it).

This same America also lifted sanctions on Iran, allowing it to spare money to give to Hamas to buy weapons and slaughter my people to start this fucking war.

So you ask why I’m saving money to eventually move to Israel from America? I hope I’ve answered as thoroughly as I can. You can go ahead and fact check me through non- biased media. And go ahead and look up “list of terrorist attacks on Israel” while you’re at it too. I’d rather face rockets than continue to live in a country that lets antisemitism (and mass shootings for that matter) run rampant.

[theamericanpin-up]

Al Buell - April 1961 Al Buell's Beauties Calendar Illustration - Brown & Bigelow Calendar Co. - American Pin-up Calendar Collection

[possible-streetwear]

Fatima Al Qadiri

[sc0ttstre3t]

queen of disaster

ballerina!reader x glasses!spencer reid

summary: you are a principal dancer for the american ballet theatre. currently, you are playing juliet in the company's production of romeo & juliet. unbeknownst to you, a certain genius is sitting in the audience, in complete awe.

warnings: ballet inaccuracies? idk. barely proofread. just complete fluff.

After solving an especially difficult case, the team had been forced to allowed to take some time off. Spencer has mostly spent it reading in the confines of his apartment, but has finally decided to take a trip. New York, somewhere he's only been for cases, wouldn't usually seem appealing, but after he found out that a production of Romeo & Juliet was currently showing at one of the best ballet companies in the world, he booked a ticket.

The show has been going well, quick paced and entertaining, with strong dancers bounding across the stage every second. Spencer's eyes are moving back and forth, trying to take in every movement.

And then it all slows down.

You appear on stage, dressed in a white and gold dress, dancing across the stage. Your arms and legs strong, yet delicate and youthful, you are the perfect Juliet. For the first time in forever, Spencer's mind is blank. He has never felt this way before. He's been captured by you, and your movements, and the emotion on your face. As a man of reason, Spencer knows love at first sight isn't real. What he is experiencing is simply infatuation, a projection he placed upon you as soon as he saw you. But that can't be right. This, all of this is real. You're real, and in front of him, and Spencer couldn't be more confused.

After the show, Spencer finds his way to the lobby with the rest of the attendees, brain still hazy about what has just happened to him. It doesn't make sense. He only saw you for a few hours, playing someone entirely different than who you really were. He doesn't know your name, or who you really are as a person. How could he…

Oh.

There you are again.

Standing with other dancers, giggling and talking. Still in your costume, but much more relaxed. Just as angelic as you were on stage, if not more. Everything stills once again, you the only focus of his attention.

Spencer walks to you, his feet moving without his own realization. Wading through the crowd, before you finally end up face to face.

You turn to him, eyebrows furrowed for a moment, before you really see him.

Gosh.

You hesitate, before putting on your best smile when he doesn't speak. "Hi."

That seems to wake him up. "Oh, hi. Sorry to bother you, I'm Dr. Spencer…" He trails off. Seeing you close up seems to rattle him. He blinks. "Not doctor, you don't have to…just Spencer."

"Nice to meet you, Spencer." You fail to hide the amusement in your words. You take a second to observe him. He's undoubtedly gorgeous. Golden brown eyes, and perfectly parted hair, his round glasses perched on his nose. His outfit is unusual for his age, a sweater vest and dark brown dress pants, complete with a pair of purple converse. A weird mix of grandpa-esque and youthful. A perfect one. Suddenly, you're hyper aware of your slightly melted makeup and the sweat on your back. You look down at his fiddling fingers, tapping back and forth as if to level his nerves somehow. You apprehensively bring out a hand, quietly introducing yourself as you do.

Spencer intakes a tiny breath. "Oh, sorry, I don't really shake hands, it's um, it's a germ thing." He readjusts his glasses as he speaks, and you grin despite yourself, you can't help but find his awkward nervousness endearing.

"Oh, sorry. That's alright." Your voice breathy and light. You nod along with your words to reassure him.

He looks down for a second, attempting to hide the red creeping up his cheeks. "No need to be sorry, I just…I wanted to say that you were amazing up there. I mean, you definitely already know that considering that only a very small percentage of ballet dancers become professional, let alone at a prestigious company like the American Ballet Theatre, and you play Juliet, the female lead role, but um, i just-"

"Spencer." You cut him off, and he finally brings his eyes back to your lingering gaze.

"Yeah?" He looks completely out of place, nerves jumbled and chest heaving. Him being nervous almost calms you down--it's confirmation that you both feel the same way.

You softly smile up at him. "It's okay. Thank you for saying that, it um, it means a lot."

"Yeah, yeah, of course. I mean it, you were…brilliant." He returns your smile. Thinks to himself that you must be the sun.

Now it's your turn to blush. You bite your inner cheek, resisting a bigger smile. For a second, you both just look at each other. Eyes wide, cheeks pink. Silent, but not uncomfortable.

"Listen, I um, I should go get changed." You speak quietly, as if saying one thing will wake you up from this fairytale of a dream.

"Oh." He visibly deflates. "It was…it was really nice to meet you."

"No! I mean, I can talk to you after, if you don't have anything else to do, I shouldn't assume…"

Spencer's grin reappears. "No, I don't have anything planned." He adjusts his glasses again, excitement rising with your words.

You nod, heart fluttering as you speak. "I'll meet you back out here?"

"Yeah, yeah I'll wait." He awkwardly waves as you walk away.

You tentatively look back, making sure he's still there, only to see that dopey grin still plastered on his face.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Thinking

The way we represent the world influences the degree of success we experience in our lives.

Example 1: If we represent yellow traffic lights as the time to hit the accelerator, then the world might give us tickets, scares, or accidents.

Example 2: If we represent our diet as a way to maximize refined sugar intake, then we might wind up experiencing heart disease.

Mental representations and intelligence go hand in hand.

Some mental representations are more intelligent, because they are more adaptive and support outcomes such as well-being, safety, and success.

Concepts

The information we sense and perceive is continuously organized and reorganized into concepts that belong to categories.

Most concepts cannot be strictly defined but are organized around the best examples or prototypes, which have the properties most common in the category or might be considered the ideal example of a category.

Concepts - are at the core of intelligent behavior.

We expect people to be able to know what to do in new situations and when confronting new objects.

Example: If you go into a new classroom and see chairs, a blackboard, a projector, and a screen, you know what these things are and how they will be used. You’ll sit on one of the chairs and expect the instructor to write on the blackboard or project something onto the screen. You’ll do this even if you have never seen any of these particular objects before, because you have concepts of classrooms, chairs, projectors, and so forth that tell you what they are and what you’re supposed to do with them.

Categories

Objects fall into many different categories, but there is usually a hierarchy to help us organize our mental representations.

A concept at the superordinate level of categories is at the top of a taxonomy and it has a high degree of generality (e.g., animal, fruit).

A concept at the basic level categories is found at the generic level which contains the most salient differences (e.g., dog, apple).

A concept at the subordinate level of categories is specific and has little generality (e.g., Labrador retriever, Gala).

We use category hierarchies to help us organize and group different concepts.

Brown (1958) noted that children use basic level categories when first learning language and superordinates are especially difficult for children to fully acquire.

People are faster at identifying objects as members of basic-level categories (Rosch et al., 1976).

Recent research suggests that there are different ways to learn and represent concepts and that they are accomplished by different neural systems.

Using our earlier example of a classroom, if someone tells you a new fact about the projector, like it uses a halogen bulb, you are likely to extend this fact to other projectors you encounter.

In short, concepts allow you to extend what you have learned about a limited number of objects to a potentially infinite set of events and possibilities.

Categorization & Culture

There are some universal categories like emotions, facial expressions, shape and color but culture can shape how we organize information.

Chiu (1972) was the first to examine cultural differences in categorization using Chinese and American children:

Participants were presented with 3 pictures (e.g., a tire, a car, and a bus), and were asked to group the 2 pictures they thought best belonged together.

Participants were also asked to explain their choices (e.g., “Because they are both large”).

Results showed that the Chinese children have a greater tendency to categorize by identifying relationships among the pictures but American children were more likely to categorize by identifying similarities among pictures.

Later research reported no cultural differences in categorization between Western and East Asian participants.

However, among similarity categorizations the East Asian participants were more likely to make decisions on holistic aspects of the images and Western participants were more like to make decisions based on individual components of the images (Norenzayan, Smith, Jun Kim, and Nisbett, 2002).

Cultural differences in categorizing were also found by Unworth, Sears and Pexman (2005) across 3 experiments; however, when the experiment task was timed there were differences in category selection.

These results suggest that the nature (timed or untimed) of the categorization task determines the extent to which cultural differences are observed.

The results of these categorization studies seem to support the differences in thinking between individualist and collectivist cultures.

Western cultures are more individualist and engage in more analytic thinking and East Asian cultures engage in more holistic thinking (Choi, Nisbett, & Smith, 1997; Masuda & Nisbett, 2001; Nisbett et al., 2001; Peng & Nisbett, 1999).

Holistic & Analytical Thinking

Holistic thought - characterized by a focus on context and environmental factors so categorizing by relationships can be explained with referencing how objects relate to their environment.

Analytic thought - characterized by the separation of an object from its context so categorizing by similarity means that objects can be separated into different groups.

A major limitation with these studies is the emphasis on East Asian, specifically the use of Chinese participants and Western cultures.

There have been no within culture replications using participants from other non-Asian collectivist cultures.

Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[kemetic-dreams]

Jamil Abdullah al-Amin (born Hubert Gerold Brown; October 4, 1943), is an American human rights activist, Muslim cleric, African separatist, and convicted murderer who was the fifth chairman of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) in the 1960s. Best known as H. Rap Brown, he served as the Black Panther Party's minister of justice during a short-lived (six months) alliance between SNCC and the Black Panther Party.

He is perhaps known for his proclamations during that period, such as that "violence is as American as cherry pie", and that "If America don't come around, we're gonna burn it down." He is also known for his autobiography, Die Nigger Die! He is currently serving a life sentence for murder following the shooting of two Fulton County, Georgia, sheriff's deputies in 2000.

Brown's activism in the civil rights movement included involvement with the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC). Brown was introduced into SNCC by his older brother Ed. He first visited Cambridge, Maryland with Cleveland Sellers in the summer of 1963, during the period of Gloria Richardson's leadership in the local movement. He witnessed the first riot between whites and blacks in the city over civil rights issues, and was impressed by the local civil rights movement's willingness to use armed self-defense against racial attacks.

Brown later organized for SNCC during the 1964 Mississippi Freedom Summer, while transferring to Howard University for his studies. Representing Howard's SNCC chapter, Brown attended a contentious civil rights meeting at the White House with President Lyndon B. Johnson during the Selma crisis of 1965 as Alabama activists attempted to march for voting rights.

Major federal civil rights legislation was passed in 1964 and 1965, including the Voting Rights Act, to establish federal oversight and enforcement of rights. In 1966, Brown organized in Greene County, Alabama to achieve African voter registration and implementation of the recently passed Voting Rights Act.

Elected SNCC chairman in 1967, Brown continued Stokely Carmichael's fiery support for "Black Power" and urban rebellions in the Northern ghettos.

During the summer of 1967, Brown toured the nation, calling for violent resistance to the government, which he called "The Fourth Reich". "Negroes should organize themselves", he told a rally in Washington, D.C., and "carry on guerilla warfare in all the cities." They should, "make the Viet Cong look like Sunday school teachers." He declared, "I say to America, Fuck it! Freedom or death!"

In this period, Cambridge, Maryland had an active civil rights movement, led by Gloria Richardson. In July 1967 Brown spoke in the city, saying "It's time for Cambridge to explode, baby. Black folks built America, and if America don't come around, we're going to burn America down." Gunfire reportedly broke out later, and both Brown and a police officer were wounded. A fire started that night and by the next day, 17 buildings were destroyed by an expanding fire "in a two-block area of Pine Street, the center of African-American commerce, culture and community." Brown was charged with inciting a riot, due to his speech.

Brown was also charged with carrying a gun across state lines. A secret 1967 FBI memo had called for "neutralizing" Brown. He became a target of the agency's COINTELPRO program, which was intended to disrupt and disqualify civil rights leaders. The federal charges against him were never proven.

He was defended in the gun violation case by civil rights advocates Murphy Bell of Baton Rouge, the self-described "radical lawyer" William Kunstler, and Howard Moore Jr., general counsel for SNCC. Feminist attorney Flo Kennedy also assisted Brown and led his defense committee, winning support for him from some chapters of the National Organization for Women.

The Cambridge fire was among incidents investigated by the 1967 Kerner Commission. But their investigative documents were not published with their 1968 report. Historian Dr. Peter Levy studied these papers in researching his book Civil War on Race Street: The Civil Rights Movement in Cambridge, Maryland (2003). He argues there was no riot in Cambridge. Brown was documented as completing his speech in Cambridge at 10 pm July 24, then walking a woman home. He was shot by a deputy sheriff allegedly without provocation. Brown was hastily treated for his injuries and secretly taken by supporters out of Cambridge.

Later that night a small fire broke out, but the police chief and fire company did not respond for two hours. In discussing his book, Levy has said that the fire's spread and ultimate destructive cost appeared to be due not to a riot, but to the deliberate inaction of the Cambridge police and fire departments, which had hostile relations with the African community. In a later book, Levy notes that Brice Kinnamon, head of the Cambridge police department, said that the city had no racial problems, and that Brown was the "sole" cause of the disorder, and it was "a well-planned Communist attempt to overthrow the government."

While being held for trial, Brown continued his high-profile activism. He accepted a request from the Student Afro-American Society of Columbia University to help represent and co-organize the April 1968 Columbia protests against university expansion into Harlem park land in order to build a gymnasium.

He also contributed writing from jail to the radical magazine Black Mask, which was edited and published by the New York activist group Up Against the Wall Motherfucker. In his 1968 article titled "H. Rap Brown From Prison: Lasima Tushinde Mbilashika", Brown writes of going on a hunger strike and his willingness to give up his life in order to achieve change.

Brown's trial was originally to take place in Cambridge, but there was a change of venue and the trial was moved to Bel Air, Maryland, to start in March 1970. On March 9, 1970, two SNCC officials, Ralph Featherstone and William ("Che") Payne, died on U.S. Route 1 south of Bel Air, when a bomb on the front floorboard of their car exploded, killing both occupants. The bomb's origin is disputed: some say the bomb was planted in an assassination attempt, and others say Payne was carrying it to the courthouse where Brown was to be tried. The next night, the Cambridge courthouse was bombed

Brown disappeared for 18 months. He was posted on the Federal Bureau of Investigation's Ten Most Wanted List. He was arrested after a reported shootout with officers in New York City following an alleged attempted robbery of a bar there. He was convicted of robbery and served five years (1971–76) in Attica Prison in western New York state. While in prison, Brown converted to Islam. He formally changed his name from Hubert Gerold Brown to Jamil Abdullah al-Amin.

After his release, he moved to Atlanta, Georgia, where he opened a grocery store. He became an imam, a Muslim spiritual leader, in the National Ummah, one of the nation's largest African Muslim groups. He also was a community activist in Atlanta's West End neighborhood. He preached against drugs and gambling. It has since been suggested that al-Amin changed his life again when he became affiliated with the "Dar ul-Islam Movement"

On May 31, 1999, al-Amin was pulled over while driving in Marietta, Georgia by police officer Johnny Mack for a suspected stolen vehicle. During a search, al-Amin was found to have in his pocket a police badge. He also had a bill of sale in his pocket, explaining his possession of the stolen car, and he claimed that he had been issued an honorary police badge by Mayor John Jackson, a statement which Jackson verified. Despite this, al-Amin was charged with speeding, auto theft and impersonating a police officer.

On March 16, 2000, in Fulton County, Georgia, Sheriff's deputies Ricky Kinchen and Aldranon English went to al-Amin's home to execute an arrest warrant for failing to appear in court over the charges. After determining that the home was unoccupied, the deputies drove away and were shortly passed by a black Mercedes headed for the house. Kinchen (the more senior deputy) noted the suspect vehicle, turned the patrol car around, and drove up to the Mercedes, stopping nose to nose. English approached the Mercedes and told the single occupant to show his hands. The occupant opened fire with a .223 rifle. English ran between the two cars while returning fire from his handgun, and was hit four times. Kinchen was shot with the rifle and a 9 mm handgun.

The next day, Kinchen died of his wounds at Grady Memorial Hospital. English survived his wounds. He identified al-Amin as the shooter from six photos he was shown while recovering in the hospital[citation needed] Another source said English identified him shortly before going into surgery for his wounds.

After the shootout, al-Amin fled Atlanta, going to White Hall, Alabama. He was tracked down by U.S. Marshals who started with a blood trail at the shooting site, and arrested by law enforcement officers after a four-day manhunt. Al-Amin was wearing body armor at the time of his arrest. He showed no wounds. Officers found a 9 mm handgun near his arrest site. Firearms identification testing showed that this was used to shoot Kinchen and English, but al-Amin's fingerprints were not found on the weapon. Later, al-Amin's black Mercedes was found with bullet holes in it.

His lawyers argued he was innocent of the shooting. Defense attorneys noted that al-Amin's fingerprints were not found on the murder weapon, and he was not wounded in the shooting, as one of the deputies said the shooter was. A trail of blood found at the scene was tested and did not belong to al-Amin or either of the deputies. A test by the state concluded that it was animal blood, but these results have been disputed because there was no clear chain of custody to verify the sample and testing process. Deputy English had said that the killer's eyes were gray, but al-Amin's are brown.

At al-Amin's trial, prosecutors noted that he had never provided an alibi for his whereabouts at the time of the shootout, nor any explanation for fleeing the state afterward. He also did not explain why the weapons used in the shootout were found near him during his arrest.

On March 9, 2002, nearly two years after the shootings, al-Amin was convicted of 13 criminal charges, including Kinchen's murder and aggravated assault in shooting English. Four days later, he was sentenced to life in prison without possibility of parole (LWOP).He was sent to Georgia State Prison, the state's maximum-security facility near Reidsville, Georgia.

Otis Jackson, a man incarcerated for unrelated charges, claimed that he committed the Fulton County shootings, and confessed this two years before al-Amin was convicted of the same crime. The court did not consider Jackson's statement as evidence. Jackson's statements corroborated details from 911 calls following the shooting, including a bleeding man seen limping from the scene: Jackson said he knocked on doors to solicit a ride while suffering from wounds sustained in the firefight with deputies Kinchen and English. Jackson recanted his statement two days after making it, but later confessed again in a sworn affidavit, stating that he had only recanted after prison guards threatened him for being a "cop killer".��Prosecutors refuted Jackson's testimony, claiming he couldn't have shot the deputies as he was wearing an ankle tag for house confinement that would have showed his location. Al-Amin's lawyers allege that the tag was faulty.

Al-Amin appealed his conviction on the basis of a racial conspiracy against him, despite both Fulton County deputies being black. In May 2004, the Supreme Court of Georgia unanimously ruled to uphold al-Amin's conviction.

In August 2007, al-Amin was transferred to federal custody, as Georgia officials decided he was too high-profile for the Georgia prison system to handle. He was first held in a holdover facility in the USP Atlanta; two weeks later he was moved to a federal transfer facility in Oklahoma, pending assignment to a federal penitentiary.

On October 21, 2007, al-Amin was transferred to ADX Florence, a supermax prison in Florence, Colorado. He has been under an unofficial gag order, prevented from having any interviews with writers, journalists or biographers.

On July 18, 2014, having been diagnosed with multiple myeloma, al-Amin was transferred to Butner Federal Medical Center in North Carolina. As of March 2018, he is incarcerated at the United States Penitentiary, Tucson.

Al-Amin sought retrial through the 11th Circuit Court of Appeals. Investigative journalist, Hamzah Raza, has written more about Otis Jackson's confession to the deputy shootings in 2000, and said that this evidence should have been considered by the court. It had the potential of exonerating al-Amin. However, the 11th Circuit Court of Appeals rejected his appeal on July 31, 2019.

In April 2020, the U.S. Supreme Court declined to hear an appeal from al-Amin. His family and supporters continue to petition for a new trial.

[aixelsyd13]

New Year's Day Pork & Sauerkraut

New Year’s Day Pork & Sauerkraut