#and even if that’s been romanticized for obvious reasons I’m still like…ok this is nice in the context it’s cute and all

[diari0deglierrori]

I think that if you’re going to make a movie about a historical event/figure and then you make it focus mostly on a romance, ask yourself: what is this movie’s main goal and is the historical part really necessary after all or is this just about the romance

[catboylupin]

you have rly interesting takes abt wolfstar!! I was wondering if you had any head canons about the Prank like why Sirius did it and what Remus' reaction was?

hello and thank you and i’m So sorry that this has been sitting in my drafts for like Weeks at this point.... i’m physically incapable of doing anything intellectually demanding in a timely matter and this is such a hard topic because, like, i don’t know!! i’m not very well acquainted with the Fandom Mythology surrounding the Prank or the mainstream interpretation of events so i really don’t know what to make of it, especially in terms of sirius’s motivation. here are a few things that i referenced when typing this all out: meta meta/fic fic beautiful art 

the first thing that is interesting to me, and something to keep in the back of our minds when thinking about this, is that when discussing the prank in the shack during PoA, sirius says that “it served [snape] right.” 

also i think that the song hospital by the modern lovers possesses some outstanding post Prank vibes...

ok so re: sirius’s motivation. i don’t know. i think it was a combination of things. i don’t even think that sirius entirely knew why he did it, or what there was to gain. 

i guess the thing to sort out is to what extent sirius factored remus into the equation. was he not thinking about remus at all and how it would affect him and just wanted to hurt snape because he hated him, or was he like “this is for remus and remus will think it’s funny too”?

i think that he felt slightly goaded by snape because snape was being a massive asshole trying to get them expelled, and he also just did not like him at all. like, the most obvious motivation or end goal in sirius telling him is that he just wanted to scare snape so he would leave them alone and also it would be a little funny because hahaha he is a slimey wizard nazi (at age 15/16 do you think sirius would be politically advanced enough to have a ‘punching nazis’ outlook on snape? i don’t know)

and i don’t think that he ever seriously thought that remus would react well (like, how could he? sirius had to have known that remus’s worst fear ever was hurting someone). and he was literally risking the entire school finding out he was a werewolf. but maybe a small part of sirius was like “take that snape!! that’s what you get for bullying my beautiful mysterious friend!! remus will love this lol”

but i think the thing that makes the most sense is that he wasn’t thinking about remus that much and didn’t think he would react well.

and here i where you can start thinking about sirius’s upbringing and how that affected how he viewed werewolves/remus. 

i think that sirius was probably raised surrounded by some pretty intense anti-werewolf beliefs and he dealt with remus being a werewolf by 1. separating remus from the wolf and 2. kind of like romanticizing it. so much of sirius’s attraction to remus stemmed from this sort of fascination.. james was so similar to sirius and generally uncomplicated, but remus, even though he was kind of weird looking, always sort of elicited this morbid curiosity from him. and he saw remus’s lycanthropy as something he could fix, or at least help (see: the animagus thing, my personal headcanon that he was very into taking care of remus during their relationship). remus was his tragic werewolf friend. but remus never thought that sirius understood his lycanthropy the way remus wanted him to, that there was always this sort of tension, a lingering sense of “you think you’re so different from your family, but you’re not really.”  

sirius could have thought that snape actually knew about remus and wanted to make him prove that he knew, like: “sirius, i know what remus’s secret is, hint hint wink wink” “okay, if you really know then go to the shrieking shack,” like snape kind of goaded sirius into telling him, and sirius thought that he would know better. but that is just such a profoundly stupid thing for sirius to do, and i feel like putting too much blame on snape is being too generous to sirius.

leescoresbies has an interesting headcanon that the prank happened around the time sirius ran away from home and he was thus was very emotionally volatile. and so it was in part a result of sirius’s trauma/anger/joy, and i like that idea, those emotions had to have been a factor. and if you are someone that has a really hard time reconciling with sirius’s shitty behavior as a teen, that’s kind of an easy/ canon compliant way of saying “yeah, he was an asshole, but there was also this other thing going on...etc.” however, i don’t think that was the only reason, or even the main reason. i think that sirius is a deeply flawed person and thinking about the prank from the perspective of said flawed-ness makes his and remus’s relationship all the more complicated/interesting. 

and unfortunately a lot of this sort of boils down to whether or not sirius wanted to kill or seriously injure snape. those were the stakes he was dealing with in this situation. i don’t think that sirius wanted to kill him, just because that’s not really the sort of thing teenagers do, you know. and, as further evidenced by how he treated kreacher, sirius doesn’t always treat those he considers lesser than him with any sort of respect. maybe sirius just didn’t care that much about whether or not he died. he knew on an intellectual level that he was sending snape to his likely death, but maybe he just didn’t make that calculation in the moment? like sirius was so used to not facing consequences that maybe he thought things wouldn’t turn out that badly. 

i can understand, maybe, in sirius’s version of events, in his own reckless, teenage narrative, that he thought it would be okay to hurt snape. but remus? did he seriously fail to make the calculation that he would be turning him into a murderer? what sirius did was such a major, major trespass of trust/friendship in a way that is actually sort of unforgivable.

doesn’t sirius say in PoA “i’d rather die than betray my friends!” ? well, he did : / he betrayed remus..

and i think that remus would be massively upset and i don’t think he ever really completely forgave him.

when did this happen? 5th or 6th year? i think that by this time remus would kind of be relegated to a state of melodramatic, shame-ridden misery that came along with being sort of in love with sirius. and so the prank really tore him apart, because of course it would. remus was so used to being defined by his lycanthropy, used to facing discrimination, and his friends were his one refuge from that. but then sirius who he loved used him basically as a means to an end. what sirius did was incredibly exploitative— he exploited remus’s marginalized identity for personal gain without thinking about how it would affect him. and i think that remus really did care about him enough to want to forgive him. he probably felt like he had to forgive him (his friends were too important for him to lose, and, importantly, there was probably this feeling of “i am a werewolf and therefore i need to be extraordinarily forgiving in order to be perceived as non threatening, and this is just how the world treats people like me and i can’t and shouldn’t fight back”). and those are just such deeply fucked up feelings to feel towards a friend, especially one you admire and have a major soul crushing crush on.

i think that there was a period of time after the fact when they weren’t really talking, remus was very rightfully upset, everyone was angry at sirius... i think that sirius apologized, but sort of begrudgingly. because twenty years later he still thought that snape got what he deserved. 

at times i think that remus was someone who saw his relationships as very transactional. and initially he felt in debt to the other marauders because of the animagus thing and just because they were his friends. and, as dear @direwolf-summer said in this post, the prank changed the dynamic between remus and sirius: remus was no longer the one in debt, sirius was. and that is such an interesting point. remus starts demanding more from him and he finally feels that, even though sirius was really popular and closer to james or whatever, they were on even standing. this is how he was able to be more forward about his feelings— sirius stopped being this precious object who demanded endless patience in order to retain as a friend (or so he thought, this is remus’s insecurity showing). he stopped feeling so bad about having a crush on sirius. he’d be like “fuck you sirius. i’m in love with you. deal with it and you have to be nice about it in order to repay your debts.” like  he wouldn’t say that out loud but it would be in his internal monologue and he would kinda hint at it. 

there’s that line in eclipse and transit where remus says: “You say one thing and do another and half the time you don’t even try to say it, it’s like, I don’t know, like you’re daring me to leave. And everything—every single thing Sirius, it all comes back to January of sixth year, whether you’ll ever admit it or not. Or whether you even realize it” and i think it’s fitting. during fights remus probably would bring it up, and sirius would fail to understand why remus never got over it. like, sirius: “i apologized i was 15!!” and remus: “this is bigger than just that, what you did was emblematic of your flaws as a person and how even though you understand me more than almost anyone else you still don’t understand me completely and it frustrates me!!! and also i feel like you never fully understood that what you did was extraordinary fucked up.”

and i think that remus was so in love with sirius that he did forgive him, or otherwise allowed his love and affection to forget about it. but it was always bubbling under the surface...and that’s why their relationship was sort of volatile, that’s why he was so willing to believe that sirius was the spy (as in, “he betrayed me, why wouldn’t he have betrayed james and lily?”)

now i’m remembering when, in one of the snape’s memory /pensieve / flashback scenes in OotP, sirius says “i wish it was the full moon” and remus says, darkly, “you might.” now, we don’t know if that scene takes place before or after the Prank (before probably? idk), but i feel like it further compounds the extent to which sirius seems woefully unaware that remus is a werewolf and it’s not something he can separate from himself and that lycanthropy impacts every facet of his life. sirius came to understand it as just some fun thing to do every month. his sort of ignorance towards other people’s needs and experiences is also further evidenced by how he treated harry like he was james. sirius has a pretty good track record of taking other people’s pain and making into something for him to enjoy. and he doesn’t do so in a way that is entirely selfish either, i think he really thought he was helping harry and remus. maybe it all goes back to his family and childhood trauma or something (doesn’t everything? “it all started one afternoon in the 1960s..”)

[wearemozzerians]

Here’s today's full interview with Morrissey Official by 

Chrissy Iley for The Sunday Times:

I'm inside Morrissey’s hotel room at the Sunset Marquis, West Hollywood. It smells incensy, instantly exotic with a dangerous edge rather like the man himself. He’s in LA because he’s performing at the Hollywood Bowl and because Friday, November 10 has been declared Morrissey Day by the mayor of Los Angeles. He lived near here until a few years ago, but now he’s just visiting. Where does he live now? A sigh. “I’m in a different place all the time. I’m not sure why everyone wants to know where I live, what that says about me. It means my credit card is permanently blocked for security reasons. They think I’m an anonymous person if I’m never in the same place. I never ask people where they live, but they always ask me as if it would reveal anything about me. I’m here now, as you can see.” Because he’s performing. “Well … I don’t perform. I’m occasionally on a stage, but I don’t ever perform.” How very Morrissey. It’s as if he never wants to be really seen — except by tens of thousands every time he is on a stage, or when he makes one of his trademark outrageous comments, whether that’s about politics, or last week, defending Harvey Weinstein and Kevin Spacey (more of that later). He no longer lives in the house next to Johnny Depp? “No, he bought it to put his argumentative relatives in when they came to stay and since then I have been homeless. I just move around the world, which is a fascinating way to live. People say, ‘But surely you need your own kitchen.’ But I’ve managed for many years doing without.” Does he cook? “Yes I do, and it’s a very nice idea to have a kitchen ...” But room service will provide? “It tries, but it’s difficult sometimes. We don’t like to wait do we, really, for anything?” Does he travel light? “I have a sickening volume of possessions. They’re all stored away in different parts of the world waiting for that moment when I stop and buy a house and relax.” Does he ever relax? “No.” This is a moment where I want to tell him about the first time I heard his voice. So soul-curdling and deep-reaching when he sang How Soon Is Now? The Smiths are remembered by their fans with a huge amount of romanticism. It seems that they were around for ever, but in fact it was only five years — 1982 to 1987 — and four studio albums. But so many songs, such poetry that spoke for a generation about love and loss and waiting. Post Smiths, there was a series of solo albums, starting with Viva Hate, some of which were less loved. There was a dark autobiography in 2013 and a strange foray into novel writing — List of the Lost was reviewed as “turgid” and received the Bad Sex Award in 2015 for a scene describing a “giggling snowball of full-figured copulation”. But now Morrissey is back, as unconventional as ever. And with the release of the new album, Low in High School, he is on the radio, the television, that voice strangely more fluid and insistent than ever. Some of his views must jangle with his new generation of younger fans. He has said that he thought Brexit was magnificent, and the new single Jacky’s Only Happy When She’s Up on the Stage ends with a haunting chorus of “exit exit”, which some people have translated as “Brexit Brexit”. He denies it. “No, it’s not a Brexit song. There’s no Brexit in it,” he insists. “The line is, ‘All the audience head for the exit when she’s on stage’, so it’s nothing to do with Brexit. People just rush to stupid conclusions and create facts and create their own truths and slaughter the issue.” But he did say Brexit was magnificent, right? “I thought it was a fascinating strike for democracy, because the people said the opposite to Westminster, and that was extraordinary. David Cameron didn’t imagine the result could be as it was, but at least he did the honourable thing and slid away. The unfortunate thing is that politicians only speak to other politicians. They don’t speak to the people, so on that day their bubble burst. And now I don’t think Brexit has taken place, or even will, because Westminster don’t want it. It’s not that difficult. They’re just finding a way to not make it Brexit.” Is it true that he banned David Cameron from ever listening to a Morrissey-penned song? “No, that was never true, but these are the things I have to live with.” Big sigh. “I didn’t say it and it’s nice if everybody listens. It really is.” There’s nobody he wants to ban? “Well, only the obvious — the obvious international pest.” The orange one? “Yes.” “He’s beyond salvation. Beyond any help. The biggest security threat to America and the world. He’s like a two-year-old constantly reaching for something, damaging it and then moving on to something else and destroying it.” Indeed, the next day when I go to his show at the Hollywood Bowl, one of the backdrops is Morrissey holding a toddler with Trump’s head superimposed. A tiny tyrant. It goes down well. Morrissey is still mesmerising on stage as he lashes and whips his microphone cable. He gives us the songs that still speak to us even though they’re decades old. This audience — a diverse collection: black, white, brown; young, old and very young; men, women, gay, straight — seems to be with him all the way. No one minds that on Morrissey’s orders the only food sold is vegetarian. I’ve been to that same stadium many times and seen artists of similar years with pretentious trousers and hair plugs. I’ve seen them sing their old songs to a crowd of middle-aged spread. This concert was not like that. Though I could have done without the bit where the 58-year-old threw his jacket into the crowd and flaunted his unworked-out torso. But it was unselfconsciously done. On the sofa in his hotel room we sip bottled water and he asks me if I would like anything more dangerous. I suggest a coffee. He shrugs in despair. “That’s not what I meant.” The new album has created a buzz. “It feels good. People always want their latest offspring to be the cutest, I believe,” he says. He doesn’t have children. He has songs. Does he have a particular track that’s more important than the others? “No. I mean if you gave birth to quads you wouldn’t say which quad is the best one, would you? You would love all your quads equally for different reasons.” I tell him I’ve got four cats. “There. I rest my case. I bet you don’t pick one out and say you’re the one I love and boot the others in the linen cupboard.” We chat about how Russell Brand’s cat is called Morrissey. “Yes, and he’s still alive. I don’t mean Russell — I mean the cat. He is getting on now: I do mean Russell. I don’t mean the cat.” I read that Brand named the cat Morrissey because he’s an awkward bugger. He grins. “There you go. You should have guessed that one straight away.” But however difficult he can be — for instance, during the preparation of this article he spends four days saying he will do a photo shoot and then doesn’t — he is having a moment in the spotlight. “It’s certainly a moment that might annoy many people, but here I am and I offer no apologies and no excuses.” Hmm. The first single on the album, Spent the Day in Bed, has had more airplay in America than any Morrissey track ever. “I don’t spend the day in bed often but people love their beds,” he says. He advises several times that people shouldn’t stay in bed and watch the news because it is so depressing. He should know: Morrissey has spent much of his life depressed. Surely that’s where quite a few of the hits came from. “Years ago I sang a song called Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now, and it’s like an old school uniform. People insist I wear it, but I’m really not that miserable. I’m not an unhappy person. Not in the least. I’m certainly very surprised and very pleased to still be here.” I’m wondering if his new resolution to appreciate life had anything to do with it nearly being taken away. He is in remission from oesophagus cancer. “I’d had quite a few scares and was on a lot of extreme medication. I lost a lot of hair. You can be as healthy as possible, but something will always get you in the end. I thought, here we go. Just accept it, but I’ve done very well. I’m not on any medication now.” And his hair is back — greying — and the Morrissey superquiff is perhaps not as super as it once was. “It’s real. A lot of people my age don’t have hair. They don’t have teeth, so I feel quite blessed.” Following his diagnosis in 2014, he “had a lot of scrapings, but they weren’t all painful”. Wasn’t he worried a procedure involving the scraping of his oesophagus would affect his voice? “No, incredibly,” he laughs. “In fact my voice is better, absolutely better than it was. I had to give up 150 things, from red wine and beyond, but that was OK because I don’t really like red wine. When you sit before a doctor and they use the c-word you hear it but you don’t hear it. You just say, ‘Ah, yes,’ as if it’s something you hear every day. Your mind goes into this funny little somewhere and you say, ‘Ah, yes,’ as if you knew it all along.” I’m not sure that’s how most of us would react, but then he’s always been one of these people who seem to be able to dislocate himself from his own being. “Giving up red wine was meaningless to me anyway.” Doesn’t he drink alcohol? “Just not red wine.” He also has a dislike of mushrooms. “Oh they are horrific, fungus — truffles make me cry. I say to people, ‘What are you doing eating fungus?’ Truffles shock me and the smell. Ewwww. Garlic is also horrific.” Morrissey’s superfood of choice is potatoes. “I’ve never had a curry and I’ve never had a coffee. I’ve never wanted one and I’ve never been handed one. I have Ceylon tea, very, very weak with an alternative milk. Cashew milk is beautiful. Dairy farms all over England are collapsing. Non-dairy milk is now 51% of the market, which is fantastic.” Thirty-two years ago, when he first sang Meat Is Murder, veganism was rare. A vegan diet was difficult to maintain. Now, vegan food is in supermarkets. “What about champagne?” he says. I’m not sure if he’s offering to crack open a bottle, but I hate champagne. “I’ve never met anybody that hated champagne,” he says. I’ve never met anybody that hasn’t drunk coffee or eaten curry, I ripost. “I don’t like any food where the following day you can still taste it or you smell of it or your clothes smell of it. I’m very, very bland as far as food is concerned,” he says. It is as if the psyche of Morrissey is so piquant, he needs to balance it with food that tastes of nothing. Not only has he never had an onion bhaji — “I’ve never had an onion. That would make me cry. It’s just too eye-crossing. I’m strictly bread and potatoes.” Not for the first time, the conversation drifts back to politics. Does he think Trump will be impeached? “It’s a long time coming and there have been multiple reasons and it hasn’t happened. It’s a shocking reflection on American politics. I understand people wanting somebody who is nonpolitical, who is not part of a system. But not him. They thought that he was something he absolutely is not. Surely people realise it now. Everything he says is divisive. It’s meant to be. It’s meant to distract you.” He is similarly disparaging about Theresa May. “She won’t answer questions put to her. She’s not leadership [material]. She can barely get to the end of her own sentence. Her face quakes. She’s hanging on by the skin of her teeth. She has negotiations about negotiations about negotiations about the EU. I’m not a Conservative, but I can see she’s actually blocking the Conservative Party from moving on and becoming strong. But as we know, politicians do not care about public opinion. And she wants to bring back fox hunting.” This is not only “cruel and disgraceful”, but signifies that May is “out of step and not of the modern world”. Morrissey loves talking about politics, there’s always an opinion. But then he says: “I’m nonpolitical. I always have been. I’ve never voted in my life.” At the last election there was a story going round that Morrissey voted Ukip. In fact, at a concert earlier this year, he appeared to support Anne-Marie Waters, an outspoken Ukip politician with anti-Muslim views, claiming the party’s leadership contest had been rigged against her. He is the most political nonpolitical person on the planet. He’s shy, except in front of thousands. He writes about love, but only admits to one proper relationship — with Jake Walters, a boxer from east London. They lived together from 1994 to 1996. When he was in the Smiths he declared himself celibate and said he hated sex. After Walters, he discussed having a baby with Tina Dehghani, a friend whom he met while living in Los Angeles, and in his autobiography he refers to a relationship with an Italian whom he calls Gelato. He’s said in the past he’s only attracted to people who aren’t interested in him. He’s never been on a date. He only writes about wanting to be loved. Many contradictions. “Well, I’m human. I’m not interested in being part of anything. I don’t see a party that speaks to me and I haven’t ever. My vote is very precious. I won’t use it just to get rid of somebody I don’t like because they’re all absolutely the same.” Does he think Jeremy Corbyn is the same? “He has had many opportunities to take a strike against Theresa May and he has resisted. It’s hard to believe that this is the best England can produce at this stage of the game. We survived Thatcher by the skin of our teeth, and somehow we’re all still alive and we are presented with Theresa May and Jeremy Corbyn.” I laugh, and he corrects me: “It’s a tragedy. The UK is in a state of cultural tragedy, dominated by political correctness. Nobody tells the truth about anything. If you tell the truth in England, you’ll lose your job.” This is not a rule, however, Morrissey feels applies to him. I ask him about the behaviour of Harvey Weinstein and Kevin Spacey who are both accused of multiple cases of sexual misdemeanours. He is in no mood to condemn them. “You must be careful as far as ‘sexual harassment’ is concerned, because often it can be just a pathetic attempt at courtship.” Most people wouldn’t see the kind of behaviours these sexual predators are accused of as in any way “courtship”. But Morrissey is undeterred. As this interview went to press it emerged that he’d told the German magazine Der Spiegel that the claims against Kevin Spacey — one of which alleges a sexual relationship with a 14-year-old boy — were “ridiculous” and argued, as he did with me, that definitions of harassment and assault have become too broad. “Kevin Spacey was 26, boy 14. One wonders where the boy’s parents were,” Morrissey said. “One wonders if the boy did not know what would happen.” On Weinstein, he said to Der Spiegel that some of the movie mogul’s alleged victims: “play along”. “Afterwards, they feel embarrassed or disliked. And then they turn it around and say, ‘I was attacked, I was surprised.’ But if everything went well, and if it had given them a great career, they would not talk about it.” He added: “I hate rape. I hate attacks. I hate sexual situations that are forced on someone. But in many cases one looks at the circumstances and thinks that the person who is considered a victim is merely disappointed.” Our conversation covers similar ground. When I ask him about these sexual attacks he says: “I’m sure it’s horrific, but we have to keep everything in proportion. Do you not agree? I have never been sexually harassed, I might add.” Perhaps that is why he seems so unsympathetic. Morrissey’s sexuality has always been a point of some discussion. Is it still true, I ask, that he doesn’t identify as heterosexual, homosexual or bisexual but, as he puts it, “humoursexual”? “No, humasexual as in we’re all humans.” Oh, I thought it was only about sleeping with people that you had a laugh with. “That would dramatically limit things, but certainly I think we are obsessed with labels, obsessed with knowing where we stand with other people, what we can expect them to do, and it doesn’t make any difference really.” Just like veganism, he insists, being sexually fluid and gender fluid is now much more accepted. “It’s extraordinary. People seem to be very relaxed by it.” But when Morrissey announced his humasexuality in 2013, he was a lonely voice. “Yes, I was. I spearheaded the movement. I know no other way, so nothing has changed for me, but the rest of the world leaps on. I am pleased because I want people to be happy. There is an expiration date on our lives on this planet. You have to be yourself and hopefully get some happiness from it. It seems everybody, in every respect of their lives, is coming out of their cupboard saying this is the person I’d like to be. I want to wear these clothes, not those that have been imposed on me. As long as nobody’s harmed, I think it’s good.” Is it true that he’s never been on a date? “Yes, I’ve never been on a traditional date. I’m not that kind of person.” No one’s ever said I’d like to take you to dinner? “No, never. But I’m happy with my vocation.” What does he mean by vocation? “I’m very interested in the singing voice. I’m very interested in making a difference in music, not simply being successful.” Isn’t it possible to do that and have a date? “No. I’ve never found it to be so.” It’s one or the other? “Well, life leads me. Does it lead you? Are you successful at the cost of something else?” I’m quite shocked by his question. I suggest that it’s not valid because I’m not really successful. He says, “Well you’re not working at KFC, are you?”and laughs a conspiratorial laugh. He’s interested in the way journalism has changed. “The Guardian, you can’t even meet them halfway. They are like The Sun in 1972. So obstinate. They don’t want to talk to you. They want to correct you. You can’t simply say, ‘This is how I feel,’ because they’ll say, ‘How you feel is wrong.’ And they’ll say, ‘He’s racist. He should be shot, he should be drowned.’ It’s very difficult to sit down with somebody and simply convey your feelings. In a democracy you should be able to give your opinion about anything. We must have debate, but that doesn’t happen any more. Free speech has died. Isn’t modern journalism about exposing people? When I was young I saw a documentary accidentally about the abattoir and I fell into an almost lifelong depression. I couldn’t believe I lived in a society that allowed this. The abattoir is no different to Auschwitz.” The tack back to animals reminds me he was once voted Britain’s second most important cultural icon by the audience of BBC 2’s The Culture Show, after David Attenborough. “It was beautiful but I don’t know about Attenborough’s regard for animals,” he says. “He often uses terms like ‘seafood’ and there’s no such thing as seafood. It’s sea life, and he talks about ‘wildlife’ and it’s free life. Animals are not wild simply because we pathetic humans haven’t shoved them in a cage, so his terminology is often up the pole.” I tell him one of my favourite songs on the album is Israel. It’s a romantic hymn to the country. How did that come about? “I have made many trips there and I was given the keys to Tel Aviv by the mayor. Everybody was so very nice to me and I’m aware that there’s a constant backlash against the country that I could never quite understand. I feel people are judging the country by its government, which you shouldn’t do. You can’t blame the people for the rulership. Israel is beautiful.” Steven Patrick Morrissey was born and raised in Manchester. A lapsed Catholic, he went to a religious school. Manchester in the 1960s and 1970s was damp, somewhere he wanted to escape from. Part of that escape was through television — and soap operas. He was once offered a part in EastEnders, but turned it down. “I was invited to be Dot Cotton’s other son, a mysterious son no one had ever spoken about, who returns to the Square, doesn’t get involved with anybody and doesn’t immediately have sex with anybody as most characters who come into the Square do.” So basically he’d have played himself. “Yes. I didn’t do it.” Is it too late? “For many things, yes … I was also offered a part in Emmerdale. I was to play an intruder in jodhpurs — which I’d longed to be, of course, I had waited years to be an intruder in jodhpurs — an intruder at Home Farm, but I refused to wear the jodhpurs. As they say, it’s nice to be asked.” He has no ambitions to act, his time occupied with the new album and a tour that will include China, Australia and Europe. China has one of the worst records for human and animal rights in the world, I point out. “You can’t simply fold your arms and say I’m not going to China because of the cat and dog trade, which is absolutely tearful, but hopefully your presence can make a difference,” he says. His only problem with not living anywhere is he has no animal companion. “My best friends have been cats. I had one cat for 23 years and one for 22. They just walked into the house, one when I was a small child and one when I was slightly older. I won’t say they were like children, because I don’t know any children that are actually nice. They were black-and-white and called Buster and Tibby. Tibby had been kicked in the face so he had to be fed by hand. He couldn’t eat from a plate. He required a lot of patience but he cured himself and became a healthy, incredibly happy cat. They certainly enriched my life.” It’s been hours now. Morrissey is too polite to end our meeting and I feel if I don’t end it I may never leave. For me, meeting Morrissey is like meeting a battered, black-and-white alley cat. Sure, he’s not to everyone’s taste. But that is the highest compliment I could ever give — although Morrissey is the only one who could recognise it as such.

The Sunday Times Magazine - Interview by Chrissy Iley:https://t.co/0rq4KHtItW 

We Are Mozzerians.

[kopfkinoes]

I honestly, genuinely, don't like the way most of the Poldark fandom treats Elizabeth. I don't think it's a fair treatment. I've seen Heida Reed saying it is Ross fans who hate Elizabeth and think Ross can do no wrong but that's not what I've seen in the fandom. It is always Demelza stans that shit on Elizabeth. I've seen Elizabeth be called all manner of stuff. From "bitch" to "cow" and "whore". That's honestly unfair and messed up. I've seen people say "Yeah, we're not supposed to say nice things about Elizabeth just because of feminism." and no, that's not the reason, but you don't treat male characters who've done much worse with even a fraction of the hatred you have reserved for Elizabeth. I've never seen any actual hate for George, a guy who's done pretty much nothing but really, really, REALLY bad things for 5 seasons straight.

I've seen people blame Elizabeth for sleeping with Ross. Yes, it was wrong of her to sleep with a man she knew was married. But Ross does get half the blame in that, he had a responsibility towards Demelza too. People say that Elizabeh is awful for doing that to Demelza as they were "best friends" and like....where? They were never best friends, they were never even that close, they were polite and nice to each other. They couldn't realistically be friends. And that's fine. Not all women will be friends in this world. I know people think it sucks that they're not friends because of a man but that's the way things are sometimes. If Ross weren't involved, Demelza and Elizabeth wouldn't even have met. I think it's obvious that Elizabeth had traditionalist opinions about how the interaction between social classes should be.

Ross and Elizabeth had been in love with each other for years and years. They were never able to truly act upon those feelings because of events outside their control and because of misunderstandings. I do believe at some point they just became resigned that what could have been never was and that's it, life goes on, but I hate when people go "Ross never really loved Elizabeth, he just wanted to fuck her" because it just feels so petty. His love for Elizabeth doesn't negate the fact that Demelza is the love of his life. Their love for each other doesn't make cheating ok, OBVIOUSLY, but that's what makes this story interesting, the fact that it's complex and that, if you keep an open mind, you will see the perspective of characters you don't like that much. You may not agree with their perspective, sure, but at least you'll understant they're not demons because if the choices they made.

People are saying Ross is an idiot for "idealizing" Elizabeth, the problem being not the action itself, but the recipient of the idealization, who should be Demelza. Yeah, as if Demelza doesn't idealize Ross herself. As if Verity doesn't idealize Andrew. As if Drake doesn't idealize Morwenna and she him. As if George and Francis didn't both idealize Elizabeth/see her as a trophy. As if Dwight and Caroline didn't idealize each other. As if Elizabeth didn't idealize Ross. Literally every single couple in this series is guilty of romanticizing each other and seeing the other through rose-coloured glasses at times.

Yet many people change their tune when Elizabeth dies and then it becomes "Elizabeth died as a direct result of Ross raping her." If you believe Ross raped Elizabeth, then it's really gross to consider it adultery and "sleeping with a married man". For the record, I don't think it was rape, I agree the scene wasn't written in the best way but it is a scene written by a man in the 1950s. I do think, however, that a raped, brutalized woman wouldn't be anxiously waiting for her rapist to leave his wife and come back to propose to her. She wouldn't be hurt and see it as abandonment when he doesn't show up.

I haven't seen any hate thrown at Hugh Armitage and he's basically a male Elizabeth, with the exception of the years long pining. He is rich and more conventionally attractive than Ross (this is obviously subjective, just as in the case of the women, but the story will want us believing so, consider the "the more handsome swan" commentary). He can sit around and draw and write poetry while Ross is working the fields and mine and helping peasants. The same way Elizabeth can sit around and play the harp and spin while Demelza is cooking and baking and washing and cleaning and working on a farm.

Elizabeth is seen as ungrateful and selfish because Demelza nursed her and Francis and Geoffrey Charles when they were ill with diphtheria, leading to Demelza becoming sick and almost dying and Julia becoming sick and actually dying. But Ross saves Hugh's life in France too (risking his own life and that of several other men in the process, most of them having familes who depended on them) and Hugh goes on to sleep with Demelza. And yet nobody calls Hugh a whore, far as I've seen. I've only ever seen one person say it was "not noble" of him to sleep with Demelza after Ross saved his life.

Both Ross and Demelza considered abandoning their family and starting a new life with Elizabeth and Hugh respectively but I've only seen Ross get salt for this while it's ok with Demelza because "Ross doesn't appreciate the work she does for him and he doesn't love her enough." Again, no, that's a very biased way to look at things which probably comes out of either identifying with Demelza a lot or of having her as favourite character and only seeing things as a sort of wish-fulfilling fantasy. These two converge at some point.

I've seen people blame Elizabeth for wanting to maintain a comfortable lifestyle. Like, yeah, money is an important thing in this series, just like it is in real life. Nobody wants to be poor, like we see how Ross and Demelza struggled with their poverty, we've seen how the common people would do everything to have a normal life. And of course you could say, "yeah, but those people are just trying to live a life, not to be rich". I can guarantee to you that if anyone would have the opportunity to be rich in this world, they'd take it. At least 99% of people would. But regardless, sure, it's because Elizabeth had been used to that kind of life. The Chynoweths might have been impoverished but I'm sure their life was still a far cry from the lives of the peasants. Her life with Francis offered her nothing. Not material comfort and not emotional comfort either. Caroline likewise comes from a privileged upbringing and held the poor in genuine contempt and yet I've not seen people criticize her for it. Fuck's sake, in the books even Demelza says that people should mingle with those of their own class most. Like, these views are all the product of their upbringing, of their times, nobody is immune to that.

I'm not going to fight people on this because I don't think there's a point. People don't change their opinions and I'm not trying to make them change their opinions. You can dislike whatever character you dislike, nobody can stop you. I just think a broader view is necessary, otherwise you sound hypocritical.

[when-we-were-immortal]

Chapter one

I was out of breath after ten minutes. After fifteen, I wanted to die and avoid the humiliation at the end. But as much as  I wanted to vanish from the surface of the earth, I knew that there was absolutely no rescue for me. Some people had already passed me by while I was fighting for my breath. I was wondering how the hell is it possible for them to talk while running. Witchcraft! I was nearly dead.

Just to point it out – it’s not like there were some athletic kids at my school. There were regular kids. The athletic one, sure, but also those for who sport was limited to bikes and skateboards.  And there were some other people who avoided sport like fire and considered a walk to and from school quite acceptable sport activity. The one of them was me – a bit too skinny boy with embarrassingly long members which made me highly uncoordinated. I still perceived myself as a ‘new kid’, although it’d been two years since I had moved here.

I truly and utterly hated P. E. The only bright side of this situation was the fact that it was the last running test this term. The last one I had to pass in order to enter the last year of this school. Mr. Kenda, apparently to make the running more bearable, had decided to let us run in the park – instead of running in a circle for forty minutes like hamsters. I may have been even grateful, but as far as my opinion goes, the roots and the rocks under my feet caused hazard to my life. When my sight started to get blurred, due to the obvious near heart attack, I caught myself on a root – of course.

So, I was laying there, trying to ignore pain in my knees. It was an early autumn, so the amount of leaves somehow amortized my fall and constituted a nice supplement for a mattress. I wanted to stay there for a little longer. The sun was getting through the almost leafless branches and was warming my back. I might as well stay there for a while.

“You should work on your coordination, mate.”

The sound of his voice killed all the romanticism of the moment. I tried to get up. The knees were bleeding pretty badly.

He was sitting on some rotten log; close enough to see the path and runners but, at the same time, far enough not to be seen. He was wearing some sweatpants and a hoodie, so he wasn’t some random creep, I thought. I was trying to recall his name from the depths of my brain, but it was no use. He must have noticed my inner tournament.

“Matthew” he pointed his finger at his chest.

“Ow” I replied.

His face made the thing. It’s difficult to even describe it properly. He seemed offended for a few seconds. So what? It’s not like it was my responsibility to know each and every guy at school; and if that hurt his feeling it wasn’t my problem.

“You should have this checked” he said after a while.

“No, I should not. I just have to finish this without killing myself.”

He smirked. The perspective of another twenty minutes of running was hellish. I looked at Matthew and then it hit me.

“Why aren’t you running?”

“Well” he smiled. There was something strange in that smile.

“Well what?” I asked.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he was looking at me as if he was looking for something. It made me feel uncomfortable.

“What are you staring at?”

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Depends on a secret. Not really keen on criminal matters.”

He smirked again and I felt as if I had passed some sort of a test. Suddenly, he just turned and walked into the forest. I wasn’t even sure what he wanted me to do. Should I have followed? Plus – the fact that I wasn’t able to put him anywhere close to the mental blue prints of the school made the decision even more complicated.

“Well, you can start running any time, don’t mind me.”

So bloody unfair. To choose between running, which I loathed, and the dubious invitation into the forest – tricky.

“I promised you will pass the exam” he was almost invisible among the trees.

“Wait!”

So I followed. What else could I have done?

We were walking through the forest for about ten minutes. To tell the truth, I wasn’t entirely sure where we were. I didn’t ask, though. If I had been stupid enough to follow some dude I didn’t even know, it was my own fault. However, when the, I dare to call it ‘path’, started to disappear, I felt a bit unsure. Matthew did not speak. He was way ahead of me and I felt like a small puppy trying to catch up.

“Where are we going exactly?” I asked finally. The cold air made my skin shiver a bit.

“You will see.”

And I did. From the place where we had arrived, I was able to see the running route. There were people running and breathing heavily. Nobody saw us, though. We were standing at a cliff from which we were unseen.

“From here it’s about 300 meters till the finish line. Far enough to get all sweaty and get the right heartbeat.”

I looked at him with admiration. He was my saviour.

“How did you know? And how do you know that teacher won’t noticed?”

“He is sitting in his small portable chair, reading football magazines. He’s never run with the students. Believe me. He won’t notice anything. I’m not even sure, if he notice somebody missing, to be honest.”

Two girls passed our hideout half running half walking. My knee were in a mess and soared like hell.

“They will heal soon” he said following my look.

“I know. I’m used to having wounds on me.”

He stirred suddenly and looked at me with his eyes reduced to tiny cracks.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing” he replied with defensive arms movement but in his voice was no defensiveness whatsoever.

“What are… Oh, are you crazy!? I am not hurting myself! I meant that I’m a bit uncoordinated , as you already noticed.”

“Ow.”

He didn’t say anything else but took out a hair pin from the pocket of his sweatpants, twisted his hair, which I didn’t believed was long enough to be twisted, and pined it up. He disappeared a few minutes later.

I followed, trying not to fall down from the cliff. After several, ungraceful jumps, I was back on the track ready to finish the run.

When I appeared from behind the last turn, I saw the teacher and a few students who were sitting on the ground resting. I didn’t have to fake to be tired. I was tired, sweaty, and close to cry.

“Sam!” the voice of the teacher priced the air. I hold my breath. Matthew was long gone.

“Yes?” I replied cursing in my head.

“You are bleeding. What happened?”

“Noting, just…”

“Oh son, one day, you will not come back from the run” he smiled. “Go see the nurse.”

People were starting to stare. I hated when they stare.

“Sam! Nurse now!”

“Yes.”

I moved relieved.

“Sam! Wait!” the teacher's voice stopped my in place.

“Shit” I muttered.

I turned with my best poker face.

“Yes?”

Play it cool, kid. Just play it cool.

“Take her with you.”

The girl was standing next to the teacher half-bended. I couldn’t see her face as her dark curls covered it.

“Just make sure she gets there. I have to wait for others. Allison, are you OK with that?”

Mr. Kenda smiled again but with less brightness. I realized that he was old. Old and tired. It was the look my mother sometimes had on her face when she went back from work. In those moments she seemed to be even smaller that she really was. It always made me uneasy for some reason.

“Yes, yes” the voice from among the hair replied.

Allison was walking next to me in silence. From time to time, I heard some noises coming from within the curls. The school wasn’t far away but we still had to go through the park and cross the main road. The path was full of yellow and red leaves. It was  beautiful.

The sweat on my body started to cool me down. I felt shivers again. I dreamt about my bed and a shower. The day had been too long for me already.

“Shit…” the voice came from my companion. “You got to be kidding me!” she stopped and started to breath loudly. “Fuck! Go away, go away…”

I wasn’t sure if she meant me or not. Just in case, I moved away a little bit.

“Should I go…” I stuttered. “Maybe call somebody…” she got me scared.

She raised her head and I saw her face, dark skin with surprisingly large numbers of freckles on her nose and cheeks.

“No, no. Just wait a minute. It will be gone soon.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“What do you think?” she answered still keeping her palms against her belly.

She didn’t seem angry, just amused – if she could even feel amused while being in pain.

“Let’s just pretend I didn’t ask” I murmured.

“You should have taken some drugs.”

Matthew appeared from nowhere. His hair was still pined up. He was looking at Allison with concern.

“No shit, Sherlock!” she answered and moved towards the school. “I can’t take them just in case. They are too strong. Common, move. The faster we go the faster I will get my magic dust.”

“I have heard that physical exercises help to reduce the muscle tension and pain” I looked at Matthew with my eyes wide open. Not only did he appeared from nowhere but also he joined the conversation about female days as if he was an expert on it. I did not talk about female days, I did not talk about anything that was even slightly connected with intimate topics as I knew my face turned red then. It was extremely embarrassing. I got the redness from my father although he had his beard and long hair to hide, I had nothing to protect myself.

“I bet it was some guy” she answered stopping my steam of thoughts “who made that up to justify why women at their periods shouldn’t avoid their household duties. Fucking assholes.” Ow yes, she was pissed now.

“Well that was what I have heard” he said almost merrily.

I was listening to their conversation not having the slightest need to join in.

“So you have heard wrong” she barked.

I think in that moment, she would have bitten him if he had been close enough.

“I’ve also heard that a hot water bottle helps a lot…”

I wished I had been at school, in the locker room. Safe and alone.

“It does, when you have at least twenty minutes to lie down with it.”

I saw him smiling. He seamed to be impressed with her. A small fluffy thing cringed in my chest. The shock it gave me made me look at me chest with pure amazement. What was that?

“Ow look! We are here!” he exclaimed a bit too loudly.

“Hallelujah!” she sighted. “Are you coming, Sam?” she asked using my name for the first time.

I looked at my knees. It was simply ridiculous. My legs, apart from being too long and skinny, were covered with numerous scars. And I didn’t even do sport…

“I’m coming…” I sighed.

We ended up in the informatory. Matthew disappeared as gracefully as before. Allison got her magic dust and after several minutes she seemed more relaxed, although her skin was still pale. The nurse cleaned my knees – I was trying not to make a sound.

“Don’t let it get wet today” the nurse said. “And don’t cover it with anything. Let it breath.”

“O.K.”

Let is breath.

I glanced at Allison still sitting in the room. She was looking out of the window with unfocused eyes. She smiled suddenly as if remembering something and then the smile was gone replaced with frown brows. I looked again at my chest. It was empty. Nothing was there any more. No strange feeling. I frown.