#and richard becomes more and more sympathetic and more in touch with his humanity as he loses his power

[nastasya--filippovna]

reblogging again with @aq2003 's tags bcs they're literary fire

I know that Richard2Shakespeare is played as an obnoxious little twink for political and drama reasons (you’re telling me a queer coded this tragedy etc) and to let the actors chew the scenery a bit, and the indecisiveness is a tragic flaw that sets him apart from the clear penetrating masculinity of eg Bolingbroke etc etc. it’s great that there is a whole play about “the deserved downfall of cunty little maximalist who changes his Starbucks order 3 times with a huge line behind him.” However, I have forgotten what I was great revelation I was going to write here, so here are some richard2shakespeares I found while trying to remember

[wheelersdealer]

RABBIT HOLE

Summary: You hate Steve, Steve hates you, you may have fooled around once or twice but whatever -- he’s found himself oddly protective when he sees some prick picking on you and you’re not sure how you feel about sympathetic! King Steve.

Pairing: King!Steve x Queen!Reader Warnings: Profanity, Small Sexual Themes, Harassment A/n: This is a continuation of my “Her Majesty” story you can find on my blog! Also, new fic format so I can give gif creators direct credit! Just click the picture and you’ll be sent there! Also, all gifs I use are reblogged prior to posting an imagine.

Steve Harrington has fallen down a rabbit hole. Of both physical and figurative means but this fic is PG-13, so —

The subtle touches you share and the gentle, but seductive glares you shoot his way in class and in the hall…it’s all built up to be something greater. No, it isn’t love, it's certainly not love because how can a King love the Queen attempting to raid his castle, and he doesn’t want to date you but…it’s hard to explain.

Here! Just now —

His eyes are drawn away from practice. He works with Tommy and some other boys in shooting hoops, mostly numb from their bickering and his spot-on shooting despite the crick in his wrist (totally not related to you).

Hey, at least he lands.

But then his eyes land on you, standing in the alley between Hawkins High’s two buildings. It’s the perfect view, the sun hitting your face just right. Just well enough to capture your furrowed brows and a glare so strong he can realize now that the ones you give him are nowhere near malicious.

And then he sees a guy.

And then Steve gets hit the head.

He hisses and groans as the ball collides with his skull, but still, he’s focused on you and this guy. He’s not just a regular teenage boy no he’s-he’s a guy. Like, a man, a dude.

“Harrington!” Tommy scoffs, picking up the ball and holding it between his ribs and arm.

Steve rolls his eyes at them, but still feels inclined to stay and play or at least try to explain. He decides not to, instead, his focus still on you as he rubs his temples to ease the thumping in his brain and tries to steady his legs as they’ve become a bit numb from standing motionless for so long.

“Where the hell are you going?” Tommy scoffs. The guys around them aren’t exactly in their group and Tommy has felt a need to prove himself to them the entire game through ‘trash talk,’ ‘smack talk,’ (yes, different things according to Tommy), and showing them just how confident he is to bully none other than ‘King Steve Harrington’ on the court.

“Can it Tommy, will you?” Steve spits back at him.

He limps off toward you and in the corner of your eye, he’s nothing but a grey speck that invades your sight.

You’re stiff with your arms crossed over your stomach. Clearly, it’s meant more to hug yourself than to be all calm and casual, with Steve able to see from this far away just how tight you’re holding your own arms.

Your shoulders are up, your chin is closer to your chest, and you have your feet pointing away from this situation…

So you can…run, perhaps?

“HEY!” Steve shouts the moment he worries why you would worry about having too. He claps his hands and that’s what draws you to him. His voice is a bit too hoarse and husky from basketball to recognize immediately.

You roll your eyes allow him a chance to speak. You take a few steps back from this guy, and Steve clearly sees that you consider him as an opening.

His heart flutters at the honor. Just a little bit.

Steve plants himself in front of this guy and spits, “Can I help you?” He picked up that tone of voice from his ‘Take me to your manager!’ mama.

You peak over Steve’s shoulder and watch the guy babble. You’ve allowed yourself to be more open about your vulnerability, hugging yourself directly and keeping your head down but you still manage to scold the guy with sharp eyes behind your brows.

Steve can see that he definitely looks familiar…But then again there’s a lot of quaffed and blonde-haired douchebags that have roamed not only the halls of Hawkins High but the halls of every high school in America, really.

He looks like he’s in college but he still wears his Hawkins varsity jacket.

Steve gets caught in his eyes, squinting and trying to decipher this dude’s face.

“Get lost,” the guy spits, trying to step past Steve to get to you.

“Um, yeah,” Steve hisses, “I don’t think so.”

“This is none of your business.”

Steve pants and crosses his arms. “Well doesn’t seem like it’d be much of some deadbeat college kid’s business either, so…?” The guy clenches his jaw. “Beat it.”

You cautiously walk up to Steve and you two watch the guy leave. He keeps looking back just about ready to kill both of you but his fury is so satisfying you can’t help but smile mischievously and give him a little wave goodbye.

You chuckle and Steve jumps and looks at you.

“You okay?” He breathes, voice laced with worry.

But it sounds too caring and too enthusiastic. He reels it back a couple notches and puts on a face of apathy. He repeats, “You okay?” Like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

And suddenly now that it’s over and done with and you have a chance to think over all the drama, you deflate.

“Thanks, Harrington,” you mutter and pat his arm before walking off.

Now Steve feels like a douchebag.

He curses himself and grabs your wrist only to realize when you violently yank it away that that sort of interaction might not be the most welcomed right now.

“Sorry — Y/n, are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” You insist and try to walk away.

Steve jogs after you. He has an eagle eye on all of your surroundings and when he finally spots the guy, he almost walks into a light pole. But he’s Steve Harrington so he’s able to play it off in all of his kingly glory.

He mumbles to himself. “Who was that guy anyway?”

You both stop walking and watch him get into his car. Steve looks down to your arms, still so tightly crossed over your chest.

You grimace.

“Chad.”

Everything comes back to Steve in a flash before his eyes.

‘Chad’ was, and is the biggest douchebag to have roamed the halls of Hawkins high in all of human history. So much so Steve has never been sure if Chad was ever his real name because it fits too close for comfort.

(He may not be in the realm of Billy Hargrove who is soon to come, who you’ll one day learn carries all sorts of douche-baggage, and he certainly isn’t in the realm of Tommy H. who is completely riding on his high school career to save him from minimum wage, but never in his years of being ‘King Steve’ has Steve ever seen such an undeserving candidate pulled straight from a Slasher Fic about pretty popular people destined to get slashed.)

Chad never got that title because, despite his popularity, he was an all-around douchebag nobody cared to hand the crown to.

Hell, in contrast to you, Steve would say you’re a princess (the connotation being he’s come to see you as quite sweet), but he knows you’re really a Queen (the connotation being that you are still willing to rip his eyes out of his skull at a moment’s notice during this very, very complicated but consensual relationship).

Never-mind what he’s just seen. He can’t help but think, “Why Chad?”

“I mean seriously Y/n — Chad Kokovsky? That guy is like,” he rolls his eyes, “the biggest douchenozzle to roam the Earth. Okay? Even I can’t stand him.”

Douchenozzle. That’s creative —

You scoff, never having been so offended.

“Not like I asked him to come here, dumbass!” You gently push on his chest then start heading back inside. Steve hisses at your strength and follows with a hand to his chest. “I ran into him at Dairy Queen and he decided to be all creepy.”

“Woah Woah Woah—“ Steve jogs to get in front of you. He holds your arms and looks you in the eyes.

Yours flicker from his own to his hands on your shoulders and he promptly takes his hands away and puts them on his hips.

“He followed you?

You whimper and stomp your foot, wanting this conversation to be over.

“Y/n, he followed you?”

“I guess! But it’s no big deal since he told me he’s like, starting school back up again soon. He’s like on break now. Besides like, isn’t that just something you all do?”

Steve Harrington…has never been so offended…in his life.

“No!” He curses under his breath. “Jesus Y/n, has this happened enough times for you to think it’s normal, cause it’s not normal!”

You bite into your lip and look down at the ground.

Steve can see Tommy embarrassing the absolute shit out of himself just some distance away.

He runs his hand through his hair and comes up with a solution: “Any time you have a problem with a guy, you come to me, alright?”

You step away from him. “Why?”

“B-because—“

“HARRINGTON! HURRY UP!”

Steve grabs your arm gently this time and pushes you closer to the school and under the shade.

“Because,” he lowers his voice even more, “I’m King Steve, Y/n. The hell they gonna do when I tell them off?”

“And I’m ‘Queen Y/n’ so clearly, what about it?”

Steve leans in closer. There’s a smirk tugging at his lips. “Gotta stick together, right? Whole castle goes down without its Queen, right?” You squint. “That’s chess…right?”

You chuckle and shake your head at the ground. “That is chess, Harrington, you are right!”

“See?!”

You look around, suddenly paranoid yourself. “I’m not getting you involved in all of my shit, Harrington. I appreciate the offer, but you can forget it. I’m not jeopardizing my crown since it’s the one thing I get for dealing with this shit.”

“Psh! How much ‘shit’ can you possibly have?”

You raise one brow. Steve suddenly feels butterflies in his stomach just imagining what’s about to come out of your mouth.

You explain but won’t look into his eyes for any of it.

Deep breath—

“So clearly Chad’s kind of obsessed with me for the time being. Richard Mackey and his goons, you know, the ones who sit—“

“On the west end of the cafeteria with the funny glasses, yeah yeah—“

“Yeah. Deborah Sheppard told them a bunch of weird-ass shit so he could woo me,” Steve’s face scrunches up in disgust, “And I don’t want to be the mean bitch who tells off the ‘nerdy’ group so I have to tiptoe around that. Sandy, Sue, Sammy, and Kelly decided to go be dumbasses and got involved with a bunch of college guys and they had a fling over the summer but now none of them want anything to do with it so I’ve been trying to get them off their backs for a while now. Kathy and Deborah H—“ You gasp an overdramatic, cartoon gasp, and clutch Steve’s arm. “Oh, I forgot! And—!”

“Jesus Y/n—“

You smile smugly. “Getting tired yet?”

Steve licks his lips and runs his hand down the side of his face. He sighs and shrugs. “Sure, why not. Me, and you,” he pokes himself in the chest then keeps his finger against yours, “Can solve all of these problems, superficial and not, alright? I mean,” he chuckles, “King and Queen gotta look out for their kingdom, don’t they?”

You chuckle. “You really ready for that Harrington? No offense but I thought your expertise only ranges in picking up chicks and being complicit around Tommy.”

There’s a moment of silence as Steve realizes that is his range of expertise. (And his hair.)

“C’mon,” He mumbles through closed lips.

You look and he has his hand out. You shake it, looking into his eyes till the moment you separate.

You turn and (Jesus, again—) Steve grabs your arm and with a quick tug, you’re twirled back right in front of him.

So close…

Your chest is against his, your knee between his thighs. His look of triumph and excitement about this new partnership has vanished. His eyes are malicious, but his lips frown.

And his voice is low. “Come get me if any of those guys start bothering you…yeah?”

You suck your lips in and nod weakly.

Steve lets go and gives you a gentle push.

Suddenly your walk isn’t as confident as before. It’s modest.

You look over your shoulder just before you reach the door and Steve’s still staring at you, that pitiful, worried look taking over his features.

He snaps out of his gaze, tries to quickly look somewhere that isn’t you.

Damn.

He fell hard.

(Message me if you would like to be tagged whenever I post a Steve imagine!)

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[doomonfilm]

Thoughts : Ganja & Hess (1973)

I’m not sure how it got by me when Spike Lee released Da Sweet Blood of Jesus, but I was somehow unaware of the fact that the film was a remake of the Bill Gunn underground classic Ganja & Hess, which I’d heard of but had not had the pleasure of seeing.  With Black History Month approaching, and a plan in place to use my timeline to voice examples of unjust killings, I decided to use the DOOMonFILM - FIlm Discussion Group as a platform to celebrate Black creatives.  On the same day that I shared an article about Bill Gunn to the page, the I Saw What You Did podcast covered him as well, and I took that as a sign to finally dive into his catalog, with Ganja & Hess being the obvious entry point.

Dr. Hess Green (Duane Jones) is the personal doctor for George Meda (Bill Gunn), a man with a vampiric addiction to human blood that must be satisfied in order for him to survive.  After contemplating a failed suicide, George Meda decides to attack Hess in his sleep, stabbing him with a ceremonial dagger that passes the vampirism forward to Hess before finally succeeding in killing himself.  For a brief time, Hess attempts to feed on the blood he is able to find and obtain from victims without drawing attention to himself, but one day, Ganja Meda (Marlene Clark), the estranged wife of George, returns home.  Ganja and Hess quickly form a romantic bond, and eventually Ganja discovers George’s body, but rather than be fearful, her relationship with Hess deepens, and the two are eventually married.  For a time, they share their exploits, but eventually the pair is forced to make tough personal decisions that directly impact their relationship.

For a vampire film made in the heart of the exploitation (and blaxploitation era), Ganja & Hess is surprisingly high-brow, intellectual and poetic in its approach.  Rather than linger on scenes of vampires creeping in the shadows, glamourizing themselves and hammering home their bloodlust to the point of being ridiculous, the film treats its vampiric characters as sympathetic victims, similar to someone with a drug addiction that fuels their actions and desires.  To that end, when Hess becomes the new victim, we are forced to share in his torture and despair, rather than find entertainment in his potential adventures and folly.  When served up Ganja on a silver platter, he would rather retreat in shame to curb his addiction to blood rather than use her as a source of food, even when Ganja chooses to display the less favorable aspects of her character.  Ganja & Hess also takes a brief stint to focus on Black identity, among all of the other topics it handles, with the same amount of grace and subtle touch as said topics... Ganja’s reflections on Black womanhood and child-raising particularly stand out as a powerful moment.

The way that Bill Gunn mixes the ideas of faith and fear are poignant to say the least, and the inclusion of both the church and religious art provides an interesting source of emotional subtext for the film.  This point is driven further home with the inclusion of different African visions and music that fade in and out of the film’s “consciousness”.  Even the George Meda character (played by Gunn) speaks of his failed suicide attempt as “the murderer releasing the victim”, as if to inform us that his soul is a prisoner in the body of a vampire.  Ganja & Hess is also presented as a love story more so than a horror film, which is interesting in of itself as the romance spawns from the dark recesses of George Meda and Dr. Hess Green’s conflict, as well as George and Ganja’s fractured relationship.  Once the sparks begin to fly between our titular characters, the moments of love are given the same attention and presentation as the moments of fear, making the relationship portions and the vampiric portions feel like parallel films rather than an intertwined narrative, and further driving home Dr. Hess’s hold on humanity in the face of his tortured existence, with the only true connecting thread being Ganja’s acceptance of Hess’s condition (and the way she aides him in his survival)... it is this singular connecting thread, however, that eventually pulls the two stories together into a shared journey.

The film soundtrack oscillates between deep soul, Christian-based music and songs that emulate spirituals to great effect, pulling us down into the murky depths of our main characters with each new music cue.  Portraying all of the characters in the film as educated Black men, women and children rather than disadvantaged and impoverished potential victims is a breath of fresh air, and Hess is given the chance to display his humanity even in the wake of his tragedy.  The editing and pacing of the film have a “slice of life” feel that is unique to the “genre” (if you want to label the film as a traditional “horror” or “vampire” film in the first place), which in turn, brings a sort of narrative expansion to the idea of the vampire that seems to have been in itself expanded upon, especially in the modern era of the vampire-loving movie-going public.  The sex scenes and moments of sensuality are handled in possibly the most tasteful, artistic manner I have seen scenes of that nature ever handled.  The cinematography implements a voyeuristic, fly on the wall approach, as flash and flare would distract from the methodical, grounded approach taken by Gunn (although artistic insert shots are occasionally sprinkled throughout).

Duane Jones carries himself in a very dignified manner, partly as if to portray the stereotypical associations that come with a vampire, but also seemingly as a ploy to keep his humanity (and his lofty position as a doctor) front and center, rather than be defined by his tragedy.  Marlene Clark could easily have stepped in as the femme fatale, but she instead opts for a more grounded, well-rounded characterization, warts and all, which humanizes her amongst a world filled with chameleon-like “monsters”.  Bill Gunn is the closest thing to a traditional vampire presentation, letting a charismatic intellectual vibe fuel his brief stint in the film.  Supporting roles by Candece Tarpley, Leonard Jackson, Sam Waymon, Richard Harrow, John Hoffmeister, Betty Barney and Mabel King round out the cast.

For a film that was supposed to be a cash-grab follow-up to Blackula, Ganja & Hess is anything but that.  The film stands as possibly one of the most gorgeous and powerful pieces of art to come out of the Blaxploitation era (though the film in itself is not necessarily a Blaxploitation film), and as mentioned previously, it has seemingly served as at best a direct influence, and at worst, an unknown indirect influence on the entire span of vampire films that followed.  It was also interesting hearing lots of soundtrack moments and little sound snippets that I have heard sampled in endless songs, which I did not expect, but wholly enjoyed.

[amelink66world]

Love of my Life

Heyy guyss!! It's been long. This is the next chapter. If you missed the previous one, it's right below this one XD Enjoyyy!!

Miserable

Link called Jo, his best friend and present drinking buddy for some company. As the saying goes misery loves company. Link thought angrily, But I don't like misery! He was having a hard time trying to process the events of the day. What happened so suddenly? What drove her to leave me? Like I said, that woman is a mystery!

Since Jo was down with the flu, she forced Alex to keep Link company as she didn't want her best friend to suffer alone. She knew how hurt he was as he had gradually started falling for Amelia. I need to talk to her. I know she must've had her own reasons but still. That man is my childhood friend. I can't see him so hurt. Argghh.

At Joe's Bar, Link was seated at a secluded booth in the corner with Alex venting out his feelings. He was listening to the man intently trying to comprehend what to say to make him feel better. I'm married to a very manipulative woman! She always makes me do these things. What shall I do now? As far as he knew Amelia, he knew she'd come around. You just had to give her some space. She had already been through enough.

" I think Amelia dumped me," Link said with sadness hitched in his voice, sipping his drink.

" Wait. You think ? ", Alex wanted to laugh at the situation. " What does that even mean?", he said whilst chuckling.

Link was not at all surprised by the other man's reaction. He knew how Alex was. He always found comedy in every situation. He felt like laughing along with him given his current situation. " I'm not exactly sure," he said uncertainly. " Forget it. You say. What I heard, is it true? About you getting fired along with Richard and Meredith? ", Link asked inquisitively.

Alex just rolled his eyes, silently nodding with a scowl. Link took that as an affirmation.

Link grimaced, " What did you do, man? I mean, all three of you got fired." Link had a hint of mirth in his eyes.

         " Ahh, it was not a big deal. Mer just did something crappy and Webber and I were just the partners in crime," Alex tries to be diplomatic but a slight raise of Link's left eyebrow prompted him to spill the truth. " Okay fine. Mer just had to go and try to impersonate  Mother Teresa and obviously she committed insurance fraud. We just seemed to know about it and didn't report her considering she's my person," Alex shrugged. " Byt some son of a bitch found out and spilled his guts out to Bailey. You know how Bailey gets. She hulked out and fired all of us in front of Mama Avery", he said with simple shrug.

Link's eyes bulged out. Is this thing normal for him? How is he so casual? Weird. Jo surely met her match. Link all but shook his head in disbelief and started laughing suddenly. Alex gave him a strange look before joining him laughing at the ridiculousness of their situation. They hung out for two more hours at the bar, drinking and talking before bidding farewell.

Link was feeling miserable and alone. This was the first night in a long time that he didn't spend with Amelia. He missed her already and hadn't even been a day! He knew he was entering dangerous territory before falling for her. Now that the damage was already done, he was feeling helpless. He tried to go off to sleep but couldn't. He lay on his bed staring at the ceiling before exhaustion and alcohol took their effect.

           He didn't know how to act around Amelia when he'd come across her so he resorted to what best suited him to do. He avoided her. He made sure they were never in the same room or even the same hallway. If he saw her coming out of a patient's room in the hallway, he would sharply turn 180 degrees and move in the opposite direction before she saw him. He knew Amelia's shift timings and when she'd be at the coffee cart. So he always ordered his coffee at a completely different timing at the cart just to not cross paths with her. He just hoped she wouldn't notice him. He even paged Koracick whenever he needed a neuro consult. He prayed to God like hell that Koracick was not busy at the time so that Amelia would not answer his page.

He just didn't understand this one thing though. Why does she keep calling and texting me? She even asks people around about my whereabouts. She broke up with me. So why this now? He ignored her texts and calls. It had been a whole week. It was getting unbearable for Link. He just couldn't shake this feeling of loneliness away. Obviously Jo kept him company as soon as she recovered from the flu. She tried her best to cheer him up. She brought him doughnuts and soup from his favourite place to his apartment almost everyday. But nothing seemed to work. Even Nico tried cheering him up by bringing extremely interesting ortho cases. Knowing his fellow, this was as far as he could go to cheer him up. He even went out of his way to invite him for drinks but he quickly declined as he was just not in the mood.

He knew what he wanted. What he needed. AMELIA. But that option was not available. He should often find himself lingering outside her lab or office just staring at her. He terribly missed her and longed her touch. He would stand outside and look her way. He would stare at her face just get a small glimpse of her ocean blue eyes. Her nose. Her lips. He just wanted to grab her and smash his lips with hers. As soon as these thoughts plagued his mind, he would leave quickly. People around him were starting to get worried for him. He knew this but he just couldn't figure out how to tell them that he was okay and didn't need them to get concerned.

He tried to ask how Amelia was doing from Maggie when he had a surgery scheduled with her. Maggie just looked at him sympathetically and gave him a small answer. " You need to ask Amelia that herself. Don't avoid her please. She's not accustomed with being on this end of the avoidance game generally. She's having a hard time, Link. You should please talk to her." He listened to her with a guarded expression trying to comprehend the piece of information. She's miserable too? Just like me? Shall I talk to her? Will she take me back? He quickly shook his head to rid himself of these thoughts. NO. I WON'T approach her. She broke up with me. She hurt me. She has to come to me. I'm a human too. Arrgh. It's all so complicated.

Meanwhile with Amelia, she was completely in shock. She was at a standstill. Where the hell is Link? He's neither picking up my calls nor answering my texts. Why is he avoiding me ??!! I know I told him I needed time but that didn't mean I broke up with him, damn it. I just meant we needed to go slow. Ugghh. MEN!! They are so crazy sometimes. Ughh I'll strangle him the next time I see him, provided I see him at all!!! What the hell?

           Amelia knew what he was trying to do. Does he really think he'd be able to beat me at my own game? I'm an expert in the avoidance game. He won't be able to avoid me for long. And seriously he thinks I haven't spotted him running away from me or him hiding in the on-call room the second he sees me? I have seen him every single time! I just don't understand why he's doing this.  Amelia knew things would get awkward between them for a while after their talk but not this awkward.

She tried convincing herself of the otherwise but quickly gave up. She couldn't help but miss him terribly. She got attached him to an indescribable level. He had become a part of her routine. Her day was never complete without seeing him. She missed his touch. His smile. His eyes. His kiss. Oh, his kiss! She felt crying at the mere thought of him. She had never felt like this with anyone in her entire life. She was a completely different person around him. Like Meredith used to say, her demeanor took a 180 degree turn from dark and twisty to bright and shiny in Link's company. She was liking this change. He was good for her. IS. Is good for her.

              She desperately tried approaching him but always stopped in her tracks. What would she say to him? How would she console him? She knew for a fact that she would jump his bones if he even came at a 5 foot radius near her. She craved his touch, his body. He was the best that she had ever had. She loved the way he always held her, stroked her hair and peppered his face with kisses after the amazing,  amazing sex. There was a certain level of gentleness with him that she never knew she was capable of having. Her mind had started picturing him in her future. That's why she had needed some space before she went all in which she was pretty sure she was.

Amelia had tried talking to Jo about Link but she avoided the topic and refused to divulge any information she had of him. She was getting horribly frustrated. What is the matter with everyone around here?! In this whole madness there was no one she could talk to. Meredith, Alex and Richard were fired. Ohhh, now I get it. So that's why they weren't answering my page to the on-call room. And how stupid of them! She just couldn't even contemplate how poorly this situation was handled. Even Bailey acted out of rage and lost all her logic. Had it been me...ooh,I'm getting off the topic. Back toh the matter at hand, Tom is dealing with a breakup too. I warned him. He should've listened to me about Teddy being Owen's tumor. It was just inevitable. People should listen to me more. Definitely the smartest sister I am of the Lady Chief Trifecta. Huh. Owen just had a baby and he was definitely not an option. She desperately wanted to talk to Maggie. She was her favourite human being apart from a few more. But even Maggie was unavailable. She was dealing with her own breakup with Jackson. That was another man she wanted to strangle. That asshole! How could he treat my sister...my SISTER like that??!!

            Men and their beautiful minds! She was done with this gender now. Bunch of assholes. Stupid, brainless, pathetic creatures. She noticed that she was cursing a lot nowadays. It's all Link's fault. It's his fault I'm angry all the time. His fault I'm so aggressive. And definitely his fault I'm so damn horny! She just knew one thing. Men were a bunch of idiots. She thought about calling her ex-resident and dear friend Stephanie but she was currently in Italy and she didn't want to disrupt her "world tour".

Her sharp mind was quick to notice that she was not getting paged for any ortho cases since the past week. How weird, isn't it? Of course, thought indignantly. The only ortho consult she was getting was of the Jai who was heroically saved by his wife. It was also kinda the only opportunity she was getting of seeing Link. She noticed that he was withdrawn and somewhat cold (?) whenever she entered Jai's room to examine him.

             There was absolutely no interaction between the two and it left a bitter taste in her mouth. It just didn't suit well with Amelia. And Link too.

He buried himself in work trying to cope with the sadness. He was fully invested in his recent patient, Jai. He came in in horrible shape. He had to perform at least three surgeries on him in a span of four days. He even thought that the best way for Jai to survive was if he amputated his leg. Not to sound smug or anything, he was as usual a miracle worker and saved his leg. His wife was in pretty bad shape too. He arm was completely shredded and it had taken him a few hours to fix the damage. He had his hands full with these two. They were priving to be a good distraction for him. But it was not enough. Whenever he was not with his patients, he was thinking about Amelia.

God was not at all in his side. The neurosurgeon on Jai's case was of course none other than Amelia. It was torturous for him to be in the same room as her for extended periods of time without doing the things that he wanted to do to her in their present situation. He had a hard time keeping his distance in the patient room but was thankful that Javkson and Nico were there with him on the case. Till now, he hadn't had any surgery with her which he was extremely thankful for. It would be disastrous, he was pretty sure.

Amelia on the other hand tried to cope with grief in the only way she knew apart from crying, dark, dark humor. Her colleagues were pretty disturbed by the comments she was making but they had to agree, it they were pretty funny! She kept making jokes and made fun of the situations. I'm weirdly behaving like Alex. Bleh. Not my finest moments at all.

             Amelia just wanted to clear the misunderstanding with Link. If only he wouldn't run for the hills at the mere sight of me! She only needed two minutes with him to make everything better. Of course, they weren't getting any chance to even get locked up in an OR for extended period of time, all thanks to LINK !! Just this once she wanted some divine intervention to make everything better but it was futile. Now that she wanted Almighty God to listen, He was actively ignoring me. What is it with people ignoring me? Even God is ignoring me. Wow. Great. Just great. What the hell, man? Is this how people feel when I am the one doing all the ignoring? It's a horrible feeling indeed, she chuckled darkly.

Her prayers were finally answered after the whole week had passed when Jai needed a nerve graft repair which required the assistance of all the lead surgeons on the case, Avery, Link and Amelia. Of course, Nico would be there too as he was Link's fellow. Not that it mattered to Amelia who was there with Link and her in the OR. She was simply glad that she finally got the opportunity to spend time with Link in a locked OR where he couldn't evade from her clutches and clear all the stupid misunderstandings he had in his stupid mind. Amelia looked up and smiled. She sent a small silent Thank You to whoever it was above who loved playing tricks with her and interfering in her business. But this time she was actually happy with the interference, she laughed silently.

As soon as the OR board was updated and their names were written on the board, there were quite different reactions arising out of the surgeons on Jai's case.

Amelia...YESSS!!!

Link...NOOOO!!!

Nico...SHITT!!! WHY ME ??!!

        (He was obviously aware about their situation and knew how cold the situation in the OR was going to get.)

Jackson...HUH?  Cool surgery. But why do these people have weird looks on their face?

The surgery proved to be quite interesting and entertaining for everybody involved, that's for sure.

Author's Note:

Heyyy guys!! First of all, I just want to apologize to all the male readers. I'm so so soooo sorry for badmouthing MEN !! 🙈😂 It was just how I thought Amelia would think. Again, I'm really sorry. But people have to agree with me here, men do act pretty stupid some of the times. Hahahaha.

By the way, some people will be glad to know that this chapter was not that long. I just couldn't write sad AmeLink. Sad AmeLink is not my cup of tea.😅

Anyway, do comment. I would love to hear your thoughts about the chapter! And thank you to all my readers for showering my story with love! ❤

We'll see happy AmeLink for many more chapters to come! Yayyy. Until then.

[musingsonbooks]

The Lip - Review

Melody Janie lives in a caravan above Bones Break on the coast of Cornwall, doing her best to keep her family's Cafy clean and ready to reopen. As a Cornish person myself, I've always loved books that explore my county and The Lip has blown all other stories out of the water. It's a harrowing, heart-wrenching story with as many twists as a Greek Tragedy and somehow three times as engaging. I finished it in under a night, I couldn't put the book down. The pacing is phenomenal, Carroll reveals the plot in carefully measured steps that had me on the edge of my seat the whole time and the characters are fantastically human and real.

Central is Melody Janie. At first I didn't like her, I found her abrasive, arrogant, a little self absorbed. To me, she represented the typical pro-Cornish local - I've met plenty of them in my time. Her vitriol against emmets, her desire to protect her land, her adoration for the Cornish countryside was all familiar and parts of her rubbed up against me like sandpaper, but I kept going. I kept going because I wanted to know more, and the more I read, the more sympathetic I became.

Melody Janie has her reasons to be bitter. She's little more than a child struggling to get by. Every day she faces new challenges. Each hill is harder to climb than the last. As you get to know her, you begin to understand why she's so angry and you begin to first sympathise and then empathise with her. Carroll does an excellent job at humanising Melody Janie and her troubles, making her a character you just long to save.

And then there's the mysterious stranger. Melody Janie doesn't like an emmet coming onto her land, and yet it's his presence that drives the story and forces Melody Janie to come to terms with her past and what will become of her future. Richard is an intriguing character, one who I always wanted to know more about. I had theories about him; none of them turned out to be true.

Finally, there's Esther. Esther was one of my favourite characters in the story, her steady kindness was one that immediately drew me in. She offered out the hand I wished I could, her friendship a key to resolving the plot. Carroll carefully weaved an intricate story of female friendship that so often falls flat in novels, one that consists of supporting and helping each other.

There's so much in The Lip to unpack. The detailed and graphic descriptions of the landscape really drag you into Melody Janie's world, you learn to love the Cornish Coast as much as Melody Janie does; you want to protect it from those who'd wish it harm. When reading Carroll's descriptions I could easily picture the cliffs and paths he was describing, they made me want to go out walking myself, just like Melody Janie. And the landscape isn't just a pretty description, it's almost a character itself its so alive and important - it's been a long time since I read a book where the landscape was quite so important to the story.

All in all, The Lip is a wonderful exploration of mental illness, grief, and rural poverty set on the North Cornwall coast. I love how the book explores the darker side of Cornwall that tourists rarely see, it's a struggle that's close to my heart. More and more, people are forced to rely on tourist trade, summer jobs, and holidaymakers in order to scrape by. The violence, and the struggle to afford skyrocketing costs of living in an overwhelmingly poor county are rarely touched on in novels about Cornwall where daily life is often romanticised by writers. Carroll does none of that, he doesn't shy away from tragedy and The Lip is all the better for it.

A fantastic read and I can't wait to see what comes next from Charlie Carroll.

(Also posted to Goodreads)

[philippmichelreichold]

Home

Analog Science Fiction Science Fact is the oldest surviving Science Fiction magazine. As Analog's  (then Astounding's) editor,   John W. Campbell ushered and nourished the  Golden Age of Science  Fiction. Campbell insisted on science in Science Fiction.  Today, Analog still  contains hard science stories and has a regular Science Fact feature. I had not read Analog in years, and am absolutely thrilled with my first issue in far too long. In a world where I feel I would be better off without a television, It's refreshing to find drama and suspense that does not reek of violence, and comedy and humor that is not redolent with obscenity/profanity. At a time when the Discovery Channel has reached new lows in pseudo science, it is encouraging to read science popularizations that are actually based in science. The underlying motif to this issue is doing the right thing. In Buddhist terms-- Right Action. Of course, reasonable beings may disagree as to what Right Action might be in a given situation. And sometimes one learns after the fact that one's action was not the best choice after all.

Rejiggering the Thingamajig by

Eric James Stone

is a

wonderful story

about doing what's right. Never thought I'd read a story where a Buddhist T. rex was the protagonist. Bokeerk is a wonderful character, and her companion for her mission, a sentient gun, is a delight. The gun reminded me of the talking bullets in

Who framed Roger Rabbit

or Yosemite Sam. To get home to her children's imminent hatching, she must follow the Eightfold path. Neptune�s TreasureBy Richard A. Lovett is an AI story.   Floyd has an AI living in his head name of Brittney. Reminiscent of the movie

All of Me

, only set in

Neptune

space and without Steve Martin and Lilly Tomlin. Floyd and Brittney have serious personal/autonomy issues. The science of the story is wonderful-- mass drivers and recovery vessels. And space bicycles as well. Also spracht Strattman

Thus Spake the Aliens

by H. G. Stratmann is a story about saving the world, complete with large red Doomsday-cutoff-switch-button. These aliens are in the same business as Clarke's

Others

with a more up close and personal approach. And they are quite implacable about weeding if the need arises. To say the story is rich in allusions to other works would be a vast understatement. The connection between the title of the story and of Richard Strauss's song, widely acclaimed for its use in

2001

, could not be an accident.

The key to the story is a problem that is not often addressed, or more to the point-- it's largely ignored. There is a dead line for establishment of a real presence in space-- the point at which we exhaust cheap, abundant sources of energy. Somewhere before we reach that point is the point where a struggle ensues for control of those energy sources that remain. Whether or not civilization survives that struggle will have little impact on  what happens next. No alternative, renewable source will be able to fill the gap that will be left with the depletion of fossil fuels. Nuclear power will remain expensive, dangerous, and will only postpone the collapse. Fusion will remain as elusive as a will-o'-the-wisp for some time. We have gigatons of Hydrogen, but fusion's most

promising process

relies  not on Hydrogen but Lithium. Even if a Lithium-to-Tritium  plant started working tomorrow, we have no way of foreseeing the consequences of eliminating any particular element from the biosphere and would need to work with highly radioactive Tritium.  

Unless Stratman's aliens show up soon to terraform Mars and Venus, and  hand us the keys to the secrets of the Universe, tough times are ahead of us. We will have to use less energy per person or reduce the number of people using energy. We would eventually return to subsistence farming with limited manufacturing powered by wind and solar power-- essentially back to the 17th century. Perhaps the answer to the

Fermi-Hart paradox

 is that no civilization has been able to solve the energy crisis and overcome the energy gap. (It takes a huge amount of energy to go from planet to planet. Witness the huge fuel tanks of the Saturn V's needed to send

Apollo

to the moon.) Even if one used  

the Orion nuclear pulse drive

to establish a local system space program, the unavailability of cheap, abundant energy would make it difficult to maintain the necessary level of technology. Once nuclear fuel became the mainstay of the economy, space exploration could be sacrificed as having a lower priority than meeting needs back home. Perhaps we are not the first civilization to see the stars not quite in our grasp and then to watch them slip away forever.  The Possession of Paavo Deshin

Kristine Kathryn Rusch

has a profile in this issue of Analog. I'm impressed by the thoroughness of her stories. Rusch builds her characters in a believable and sympathetic manner that leaves me yearning for more.

Possession

is one of her

Retrieval Artist

� stories. Retrieval artists are bounty hunters in a convoluted universe, and  Miles Flint is among the very best. Paavo was adopted after his birth parents fled to evade some outstanding alein warrants. But his birth parents have made sure they can keep in touch, naturally.  

Paavo's birth parents are Disappeareds-- essentially outlaws in the old sense of the word. Flint is hired by not one but two clients to locate the birth parents. His adoptive parents are well to do, powerful, and tainted by underworld connections. And they adore Paavo as if he were born to them. Maybe more so.  Rusch make quite plain her view on the subject of birth parents that re-enter a child's life wreaking havoc as they assert their rights. She equates them with terrorists, while Paavo's adoptive father is in his eyes, regardless of how others see him, the ideal and epitome of fatherhood.

(Uncle Orson review of the Retrieval Artist stories.)

Shame by  

Mike Resnick

&

Lezli Robyn

is a fairly straight forward example of what not to do. Given the colonists's mindset and attitude toward Satan, their actions should not have been unexpected. Perhaps that's the real shame of the story-- that as atrocious as the colonists's appear to the author and to his moral authority figure, given human nature they were unsurprising.

Simple Giftsby

Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff

is a story about the stereotypically greedy corporation out to profit on the simplicity's and naivety of the primitive, non tech natives. What could be more innocuous than a race that closely resembles (in appearance) the

Who's of Whoville

. The ethnologist and linguist sent to learn about the alien's language and culture implore the company to slow down on making a deal with the aliens and are disregarded as obstructionists. The outcome is inevitable, but the suspense building makes it all worthwhile. On Rickety Thistlewaite by  

Michael F. Flynn

is about the prison that is public service. Making oneself indispensable can be very rewarding and satisfying. Then it becomes an obligation not taken lightly by those who depend on you. As Harry Mudd exclaims to the

Enterprise

command team in

I, Mudd

. . . . A War of StarsDavid L. Clements writes a crisp and interesting story about questioning values and making choices. The concept of intelligence housed in celestial bodies-- the cores of planets and stars-- is reminiscent of

Rogue Star

in the

Star Child Trilogy

by Frederik Pohl and Jack Williamson. I would have hoped though that anyone advanced enough to use stars as weapons would also be advanced enough to not do so. Perhaps I'm just excessively naive.  

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[dweemeister]

The Haunting (1963)

Why do people like being scared? I am not one to answer this question, but even a non-thrill seeker like myself can appreciate a decent fright. For centuries, humans have been imparting to others stories of haunted places, ghastly monsters, the occult. That storytelling tradition has long endured and, of course, it would someday touch cinema. As film matures as a medium, there are certain films that produce experiences that are uniquely cinematic, unconstrained by older mediums. One of those movies is The Haunting – released by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM) and directed by Robert Wise in between his work on West Side Story (1961) and The Sound of Music (1965). Though the film may no longer be scary to those expecting machete-wielding murderers and torture-happy mannequins, The Haunting boasts a suffocating eeriness in what initially appears to be just another haunted house film. Its disturbing visuals break it from its source material’s (Shirley Jackson’s novel The Haunting of Hill House) prose, embedding itself into the imaginations of its viewers. No less significantly, The Haunting is a striking validation of the beauty and necessity of black-and-white film – it is impossible to imagine it as a color film.

In the prologue, Dr. John Markway (Richard Johnson) introduces our primary setting before telling of its violent history:

…Hill House had stood for ninety years and might stand for ninety more. Silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there… walked alone.

Dr. Markway is an anthropologist with research interests in the paranormal. To determine whether or not Hill House is haunted, he invites six individuals with extrasensory perception (ESP) or past history with paranormal events. Only two of those invitees arrive at this Massachusetts mansion: Eleanor (Julie Harris; whose character is often called “Nell”) and Theodora (Claire Bloom; whose character, heavily coded as queer, is often called “Theo”). Heir-to-the-house apparent Luke Sanderson (Russ Tamblyn) is also here. Following the opening narration, The Haunting shifts its perspective from Dr. Markway to Nell. What the four main characters find at Hill House is an estate with off-center perspectives; numerous rooms and ceilings without right angles; stylistically-clashing art and furnishings; and isolation from humanity (the house is far from the next town and is staffed by two individuals, who leave before sunset).

This is barely a spoiler, but let it be clear that Hill House is indeed haunted. What happens is no ruse, and there is no living being orchestrating the abnormalities that occur. Much is left to the viewer’s imagination – neither discovered by the characters nor explained by the filmmaking. Whatever lurks down the hall or the floor above is beyond any explanation The Haunting provides. Davis Boulton’s cinematography provides few comforts. Boulton, whose career was defined by still photography and not cinematic work, liberally employs low-angled shots and film noir-influenced chiaroscuro to highlight the house’s unusual structure and to intensify the contrasts between lit and unlit areas. Color film would make Hill House seem too inviting, too sunny, too earthly. Viewers may notice some spatial distortions along the left and right-hand side of the frame during scenes within Hill House. The effect is caused by the fact that Wise and Boulton used a technically unready 30mm wide-angle Panavision lens to shoot this film. But Wise and Boulton lean into their imperfect lens by keeping the camera moving as characters move, in addition to the unsettling Dutch angles and unusual tracking shots in the film’s second half. The widescreen Panavision format appears to be ill-suited for haunted house films, when a filmmaker may want the audience to feel as trapped as the characters. But in this exceptional case, it (perhaps unintentionally) benefits Hill House’s quietly spooky atmosphere.

Production designer Elliot Scott (1958’s Tom Thumb, 1989’s Who Framed Roger Rabbit) and set decorator John Jarvis (1953’s Knights of the Round Table, 1972’s Sleuth) have crafted a frightening set to accompany with Boulton’s cinematography. Hill House’s exterior were shot on the grounds of Ettington Park in Warwickshire, England; the interiors housing Scott and Jarvis’ work were shot at MGM-British Studios near London. The dark wood-paneled walls; the heaving large doors; dearth of right-angled corners; the creepily-placed and sad-eyed statues, limited light sources (a motley assortment of candles, gas lights, and electricity); and excessive dark-wooded furniture contribute to the house’s oppressive dread. In daylight, these rooms appear curious, eccentric. By night, the environment of the house is – at best – unnerving. The two most terrifying interior scenes during The Haunting involve interactions with the set itself. The first instance occurs in stillness, with a view of a bas relief bedroom wall. The second features a door moving in ways impossible. 

The Haunting merges the paranormal and the psychological to the point where the two become indistinguishable. That may alienate some viewers, but it will certainly keep one on tenterhooks. This merger of the paranormal and psychological is mostly thanks to Julie Harris as Nell. We are not given Nell’s entire biography. Yet, the viewer can surmise that she has lived a sheltered life. Nell claims that her trip to Hill House is an opportunity for adventure, a departure from a homebound existence where she mostly spent caring for her late, bedridden mother. Harris also expresses her character’s noticeable sexual repression and need for nurture – no other actor in this film is doing as much (or as brilliantly) as she is. Nell’s tendencies and desires are sometimes articulated aggressively, without tact and consideration for the feelings of others. She can be downright loathsome as her grip on reality crumbles, with no apologies to give after a horrible remark. As Nell, Harris pushes hard against the audience’s desire to find a relatable, sympathetic central character – and thus makes the viewer question about which scenes presented from her viewpoint might be believed (days after watching this film, I am still having difficulty grappling with Nell’s unreliable perceptions).

In 114 minutes, Nell’s relationships with Theo and Dr. Markway (not so much the smarmy Luke) become more turbulent. We sense that Nell has had little interaction with people outside her household. For what might be the first time in her life, she finds comfort in both Theo and Dr. Markway. But her frustration with her family life is never far behind. Her idealization of human connection beyond the family sees her lash out at the slightest violation of said idealization. There is some mutual attraction between Nell and Theo, but the former cannot bring about herself to say anything (Nell also ineptly flirts with Dr. Markway, who thinks nothing of these advances). On occasion via voiceover, Nell reveals her inner thoughts. This is a clumsy device when first utilized, but as the film progresses, it accentuates Nell’s madness. Her thoughts become incomprehensible, contradictory, hypocritical, and divorced from observable reality.

The use of sound in The Haunting is deeply strategic. I can not write much on this without revealing much of what makes this film scary. But on multiple occasions throughout, there are wonderfully-timed sound effects – some as soft as a whisper; others as loud as thunder – that will jolt the audience from its sense of complacency and safety. Wise’s sense of timing in this regard originates from his work as director on The Curse of the Cat People (1944), the sequel to Jacques Tourneur’s Cat People (1942). Both those films shared a producer in RKO’s Val Lewton, a low-budget horror specialist. Both those films innovated the “Lewton bus” – the gradual buildup of tension, culminating in abrupt aural and/or visual terror. The Lewton bus is the progenitor of the modern jumpscare, which became de rigueur sometime in the late 1970s or early ‘80s. Compared to modern horror films, let’s just say that this Lewton bus does not mind taking its time to pull up to the station – the influence of Cat People and The Curse of the Cat People on this film is unmistakable. Through its use of its own versions of Lewton buses, The Haunting twists the terror into its viewers’ stomachs slowly, agonizingly.

English composer Humphrey Searle’s soundtrack has never been released commercially. Searle, an expert of serial music (a form of contemporary music; in brief, it is a reaction against atonalism through a form of fixed-order chromaticism), composes an uncharacteristic tonal score here. Yet, it is just barely tonal. The score mostly disappears after the opening few minutes, but it is colored by high string tremolos and runs, foreboding brass triplets, and tinny bells that are a valuable contribution the sound mix. It flirts with atonalism, but there is always some melodic sense to this score. Searle’s score is unorthodox without being experimental for its time. There appears to be no sign of motifs in Searle’s score, but the horror genre tends to resist such musical construction anyways.

Upon release, audiences and critics did not know what to make of The Haunting. Most detractors were hostile to its plot (or lack thereof). In the years since, the film has been reevaluated on how Hill House itself is a character – shrouded in the darkness, its worst secrets unknowable. Robert Wise, the cast, and the numerous technicians working on this film all contribute to one of the greatest, most spine-tingling haunted house films ever made. The paucity of its special effects and dependence on a superb acting ensemble – Julie Harris especially – have shielded The Haunting from aging.

The house or whatever is haunting it is the star of this film. It is actively searching to kill. It does so biding its time, wearing down the psychological defenses of those who, seeking excitement or a deathly fright, dare spend a night within its walls. One will see how quickly such barriers, created over a lifetime of traumas and broken dreams, can be breached. In the moody shadows that could never be created on color film, therein lies the suggestion – functionally similar to, but artistically dissimilar from Jackson’s original novel – of something sinister, calculating, and cold.

My rating: 9.5/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

[briangroth27]

The Shape of Water Review

The Shape of Water is an enchanting 1960s-set fairy tale told very well; a powerful, expertly-made work of art about the marginalized in our society. Director Guillermo del Toro got outstanding performances out of his stars while capturing the style and feel of the era perfectly, then used the time period to comment on today’s social issues through a story about the downtrodden rallying together against the establishment to preserve life and love.

Full Spoilers…

Sally Hawkins brilliantly conveyed character and emotion entirely through her expressions and sign language as Elisa Espostio (Sally Hawkins), a mute cleaning lady at a top-secret government laboratory who falls in love with an amphibian man (Doug Jones) captured in Latin America. It’s great to see a mute lead character and even better that the film doesn’t allow it hold her back at all, despite what those in power might think of her capabilities. Conveying the romance with and genuine love for the Amphibian Man was mostly on Elisa’s shoulders and Hawkins absolutely sold every bit of it. A wonderful moment late in the film includes an unexpected musical sequence that perfectly illustrates the impact he has on her heart, showing love can transcend even the strangest of barriers. That said, I don’t think Elisa is fully human herself, but the product of an earlier romance between a human and a different aquatic cryptid: her mysterious “scars” and backstory of being found by a river felt like a classic superhero secret origin. If that’s the case and the Amphibian Man healed her gills instead of creating them, then their relationship not only fuels her voice, but allows her to discover her truest self.

I also liked the easy friendships Elisa shared with her coworker Zelda (Octavia Spencer) and next-door neighbor Giles (Richard Jenkins). It was a nice and all-too-rare touch that these platonic relationships were just as important to Elisa’s life as her burgeoning romance with the Amphibian Man. It was a relief to find Elisa living a fully-functioning life even while she was longing for romantic love. I loved Zelda’s reactions to the Amphibian Man and to updates about Elisa’s love life. In addition to comic relief, Zelda brought common sense to Elisa’s interest in the Amphibian Man, at first keeping her friend’s head level and later recognizing that risking her life and career to help Elisa save him was something they had to do, even though she was greatly concerned for her best friend’s safety. Zelda being so dismissed in her marriage and having her decisions undercut (even if it was to save her life) by her husband (Martin Roach) was a solid mirror to Elisa and the Amphibian Man’s more mutually respectful relationship and to Strickland’s (Michael Shannon) domineering, controlling marriage. While Zelda was a fully-formed character, it would’ve been nice if she had a subplot of some kind of her own, like Giles did. His failed advertising posters (and failed interest in a guy (Morgan Kelly) working at a not-so-great pie shop) gave the movie a glimpse of the world and society outside the lab that we didn’t get from many other characters. Then again, perhaps it’s the fact that Zelda and Elisa work together and Giles doesn’t that made his world feel bigger than hers. It may also be that his ability to pass as an “acceptable” member of society grants him the ability to travel a wider world than Zelda can, as exemplified by the Pie Guy kicking an African-American family out of the pie shop. Despite his long reach, the sadness and rejection encompassing so much of his world, be it from the Pie Guy or the ad agency he was trying to sell to, painted a haunting picture of the world inhabited by those who “proper” society ignored or—at best—used, and I hope the world Elisa gets to travel to at the end of the film is happier and more equal. Still, I liked that Giles had a sense of hope to him; even if the world was clearly weighing on him, he still believes in the possibility of “happily ever after.”

The make-up for the Amphibian Man was mind-blowing and the movie deserved the Best Costume Design Oscar for it, while Doug Jones did an amazing job of conveying emotion and a sympathetic nature under all those prosthetics. The biggest thing I would’ve liked to see more of in the movie was his backstory. Actual god or not, I wanted to know what he wanted (beyond freedom and to love Elisa), what he thought of the world of men, etc. Who were his followers in South America and what “primitive” rituals did they use to worship him? What did he give them in return? Did he even register that he was worshiped as a god, or do his thoughts transcend those labels? What was his thought process as he went from worshiped to imprisoned? I wish he could’ve communicated better to give us some grander idea of his opinion on things, because his actions made him seem torn between gentle emotions and instinct-driven outbursts, like killing one of Giles’ cats. Perhaps it would be an interesting comment on society if this “god” were really just a different sort of animal and the people who worshiped it had simply projected their need for a god onto him, but I’m almost always against “grounding” half-measures in stories like this (if you’re gonna go there, go there), so I interpreted him as truly a god and would’ve liked to know more. That said, having Elisa fall in love with someone so outlandish was a strong metaphor for how those in power at the time (and honestly, in the present as well) saw homosexual and interracial love.

Michael Shannon’s Colonel Richard Strickland was a great villain and I loved how his control-freak nature demanded everyone around him become subservient, much like the paranoid American government he works for and represents demanded conformity. This made him simultaneously threatening and weak, hiding behind a thin veneer of socially-acceptable power. I especially liked his reaction when he found out just how replaceable he could become if he didn’t find the Amphibian Man; his easy dismissal in the event of his failure also contrasted nicely with how Zelda was always willing to cover for Elisa, from rescuing the Amphibian Man to simply holding her place in line to ensure she clocked in on time. Clearly there’s no friendship, loyalty, or leeway among the conformists, only control or destruction. Watching him break down as many people around him as he could—even his wife (Lauren Lee Smith), forcing her to be quiet while he focused on what he wanted out of their sex life—was very uncomfortable, so it was great to see his frustrated reaction to his inability to intimidate or break Elisa and Zelda. Not allowing his wife to speak was a great contrast to the Amphibian Man, who helped Elisa to not just talk, but to sing. The whimsical, silver screen nature of their classic Hollywood dance sequence also contrasted perfectly with the rot just under the “idealized” surface of 1960s America that Strickland upheld. Though the dance sequence is pure fantasy, it’s the only place where “the good old days” were actually good.

Another aspect that perfectly utilized the era was Dimitri Mosenkov/Robert Hoffstetler (Michael Stuhlbarg), a Soviet spy embedded in the lab. Like the threat of the Other found in African-Americans, the gay community, and a sea god, the Red Scare epitomized America’s desperate drive to destroy what it couldn’t control or understand. As I’ve seen noted elsewhere, it was very cool that the film subverted expectations and had Mosenkov not only help Elisa save the Amphibian Man from vivisection at the hands of the Americans, but that he gave Elisa information on how to keep him alive once she’d extracted him. That he cared more about the Amphibian Man as a living thing than as a means to attain Soviet superiority by vivisecting it was great; I definitely expected him to try to give him to his spymasters, where the South American god would’ve met the same fate the American military planned for it. It’s certainly a powerful indictment of our government that this spy sent to undermine us had more humanity than our people, who are only concerned with being “the best” no matter what that does to their souls. The fact that Mosenkov literally had a secret identity is also a nice thematic tie to Giles’ closeted homosexuality, Elisa’s mysterious origins, and the hidden power and passion the oppressed in this time concealed from their conformity-demanding government.

Universal’s classic Creature from the Black Lagoon was an inspiration for this film, and The Shape of Water is an excellent sort of remake, touching on similar themes while updating them and making them relevant to a modern audience. It was very smart of del Toro to explore the limitations of social mores of 1962 by focusing on a cast made up of those without power back then (who are still facing under-representation and lack of power today). However, I would argue that while setting this in the past has the desired effect of getting the audience to let its guard down, it also allows the audience to distance themselves too much, letting us say “those problems have been solved” and never forcing us to inspect ourselves. Still, I absolutely loved the score and the entire 1960s aesthetic del Toro achieved! I could easily have seen this taking the Best Cinematography Oscar. 

The Shape of Water looks beautiful, has an excellent cast who are all on point, and has a very strong love story at the center of a powerful tale of those without power subverting the accepted system. I definitely recommend it!

 Check out more of my reviews, opinions, and original short stories here!

[notsugarandspice]

Not Here (Chapter 4)

Summary: Richard Tozier was living a rather ordinary life with his wife and child when something happened in the middle of the night, awakening something in him that was nowhere close to fear.

Pairings: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

Warnings: Teen and Up Audiences, Mature Language

Alien! Eddie, Dad! Richie, Science Fiction, Mystery

Note: Read the rest on ao3.

Day 10: The alien meets Timmy.

Richie doesn’t know how to feel about the changes in his life. All he knows is that everything is suddenly… better? He wakes up extra early to tickle Timmy out of bed, cook him chocolate chip pancakes, and drive him to school. Richie picks out his clothes the night before, laying them down on the chair, and reads his son a story every night before he drifts off, smiling at the imagery of purple dinosaurs. Richie doesn’t talk to Rachel almost at all, and she seems more than content - everything is just as she likes it to be. She is unbothered, wakes up after Timmy goes to school and spends the entire day shopping or pampering. Richie doesn’t have the heart to tell Timmy this is not how a mother should behave.

E-D is a constant presence in his life. Every lunch break he returns home, quickly makes himself a sandwich and sits with the alien in the attic. Eddie shows him more clips of its world - the most beautiful, picturesque place in existence. With every touch of this wonderful creature, Richie feels like he’s becoming a better man, a better dad, and a better human being. He smiles at everyone, goes grocery shopping twice a week, and makes an effort to spend more time with his son. He finally voluntarily speaks to his co-workers, especially Ben. His childhood friend has been concerned over the toxic atmosphere in their household but figured it’s not his place to talk. They’re going through plastic-wear inventory when Hanscom finally decides to speak up.

“Rich?”

Richie looks up at him from the clipboard where he’s doing the count of their losses.

“I know it’s not my place to talk-“ Ben stops when he sees Richie roll his eyes.

“Not this again, Haystack.” He starts mouthing numbers again.

“Look, I love Timmy. I really, really do. I think you and Rachel should get a divorce.” Ben walks up a little closer, looking up at Richie with sympathetic dark greens.

Richie sighs in defeat. “Why didn’t I marry someone as sweet as you, Benny boy?”

Ben blushes and walks back to the shelf. “Maybe because you didn’t get me knocked up?”

“Ooooh, Haystack gets off a good one, ladies and gents!”

They continue the count for a while, the store long closed, but as the hours pass, Richie begins to worry that it might not be the best idea to leave his son alone with Rachel.

“Hey, let’s continue tomorrow. I kind of want to check on Timmy.” Ben nods and gets up from the floor where he was pulling out the boxes to confirm the stock.

“By the way, where do you disappear for lunch all the time?”

Richie stops dead in his tracks and tries to busy himself with stacking the papers on his desk. “Uuuh, just home. Rach doesn’t really do anything, and I need to come back to do the dishes sometimes.”

Ben grabs his messenger bag and a book from the desk on the other side of the office. As owner and manager, they decided to have adjacent space. Richie hates to be alone anyway, and Ben is a great companion to gossip with.

“What, every day?” Ben laughs earnestly. “And I thought I ate too much.” Hanscom walks back to check that all the lights in the store are off.

“What can I say, Timothy is a growing lad,” says Richie in a British accent, earning another loud guffaw from his best friend.

He makes a mental note to go to the bar with Ben one of these days. Maybe when I don’t have an extraterrestrial living in my attic. But the thought only makes him melancholy.

Richie switches on the alarm, and they quickly make their way out. They wave each other goodbye in the parking lot, get into the cars, roll down the windows and back up at the same time. It’s one of Richie’s favorite routines of the day.

Richie unlocks the door and instantly tenses at how quiet it is. Nobody is downstairs, and he can’t hear any commotion in the rest of the house. He quickly throws his brown leather messenger bag on the dining chair and makes his way up the stairs. Richie peaks into Timmy’s room - it’s not time to sleep yet, but it’s late enough that he usually just plays toys in his room. His son isn’t there. Richie walks to Rachel’s bedroom and knocks hard, knowing that it will be locked. It’s always locked.

After rapping his knuckles on the door for almost two minutes he finally gives up, putting the ear to the dark wooden door. Richie can hear Rachel’s croaky voice coming from the bathroom and the sounds of splashing water. He knows she’s drinking because she always drinks when she takes a bath. Fucking woman lives in a bathtub. He irritably punches the door with the tip of his shoe and strolls up another flight of stairs leading to the attic. Richie can feel his heart jackhammering against the ribs, and he doesn’t even want to think of possibilities that might unravel themselves as he gets to the top.

And, just like he suspected, his son is in the attic, actually floating below the ceiling with the alien, giggling and swirling in the air. Richie feels a wave of nausea overcome him from the overprotective feelings he has for Timmy and he runs up to stand right below him. His hands are shaking, and he can’t get a word out - he’s also terrified of scaring either one of them, so he just stands there as leverage for several seconds. When Timmy does another swirl, and his face is pointed down, he finally notices Richie.

“Daddy!” His tiny finger is pointing at Richie’s horror-stricken face.

The alien first smiles at the intruder but upon seeing Richie’s expression loses some of the glow, and its hands stop moving. It slowly gestures towards Timmy’s body and guides the small boy down, making him float right in front of Richie’s face. Richie instantly wraps his arms around his son, breathing in the scent of bubblegum shampoo. Timmy instinctively positions himself on his father’s hip. Richie can feel his eyes burning with tears a little, and he knows he’s overreacting, knows that the alien didn’t do anything wrong - that Rachel is at fault here. But he can’t help but feel that he needs to break this situation down somehow. For both his and his son’s sake.

“Buddy, what are you doing here?” Richie pulls his son back a little to look at his small beaming face.

“Mommy left when I asked her to play the railroad, and I was bored. I found him.” Timmy points his finger at the alien that just floats below the window, looking intently at the interaction between the two.

“You can’t tell your mom about Eddie, okay?”

Timmy furrows his brows in confusion. “Eddie? He told me he’s E-D… um…”

Richie smiles for the first time since he got into the house. “That’s its real name. But don’t you like Eddie more?”

Timmy looks up and grins at the alien who smiles back in return, some of the glow returning to the body. “Sure.”

“Buddy, you have to promise me you won’t tell mom about this.” Richie looks pointedly at his son and pokes him in the side to pay attention.

Timmy giggles and looks at his dad. “Why can’t mommy know?”

Shit. “Because Eddie is my guest, not your mother’s. She doesn’t need to know, okay?”

His son takes some time to answer, but he gives Richie a small smile after a while. “Okay, daddy.”

Richie beams and kisses Timmy’s cheek, making his son giggle. There’s something warm and happy stirring in Richie’s chest, and he feels happy. Content. He finally looks up to connect eyes with E-D. The alien seems hesitant at first but then a spark of gold appears in its eyes, and it descends, planting its feet on the wooden floor next to the pair.

“I’m sorry,” says E-D, the warm electric sound filling an otherwise empty space.

Richie’s lost in his thoughts for a while, thinking whether he needs to warn the alien not to communicate with his son. But Timmy is looking at him with pure fascination, and Eddie seems to be harmless, so he decides against reprimanding.

“You have nothing to feel sorry for. Timmy likes you.” Richie smiles and the alien mirrors his action.

“I like Timmy.” Eddie touches a hand to Timmy’s bare foot, making the small boy laugh. “I like Richie.” E-D touches the other hand to Richie’s shoulder, and he can feel the heat through two layers of fabric.

But the look that the alien gives him is different than one his son received - it’s pointed and secretive. It seems like it’s holding the secrets of the universe in those large eyes. Richie feels his entire body cover in goosebumps.

His son extends a hand, and the alien touches its fingers to the small palm, and Timmy instantly pulls it back, laughing. “Hot!” 

The two other join in on the laugh and Richie’s eyes get glued to the gold dancing below the alien’s black orbs. Their eyes connect in some giddy attraction that Richie can confidently say he’s never felt before. He walks a little closer and wraps another arm around the alien. He knows how odd this entire situation is, but he can’t find within himself to care. The alien is friendly, doesn’t hurt his kid, and makes his body feel like Jell-O in the best possible way. He squeezes all three of them together, but he can’t help a creeping fear wrap around his throat, making his heartbeat speed up. But what now?

[frasier-crane-style]

Space Seed

Watching the original Star Trek with my dad, we came to this episode, and it reminded me of how much I really dislike everything about Into Darkness’s portrayal of Khan.

-It’s a nice touch that Kirk’s defeat of Khan here hinges on ‘cheating’--instead of getting beat down by a guy with five times his strength, he brings out a lead pipe and gives him the ol’ Brooklyn Welcome. Fast-forward to TWOK and Kirk similarly ‘changing the rules’ will be a huge theme. 

-Ricardo Montalban sells the hell out of him and Kirk being in a battle of wits, but really, Kirk ferrets out who he is by basically going “those Augments, huh? Weren’t they a bunch of punk-ass bitches?” and Khan goes “No, I heard that Khan Noonian Singh had an eight-pack. That Khan was shredded.” 

-That kind of brings us to Khan’s race. The character is explicitly identified as an Indian, but he’s played by a Hispanic man, in line with the casting standards of the time. I always figured if you wanted to get technical with a Watsonian explanation, we could just say that though he’s literally descended from Sikhs, the genetic engineering that made him used so much Hispanic DNA that he’s effectively mixed-race, though he still identifies as an Indian man. I imagine we could debate all day over whether STID should’ve compounded the ‘error’ by casting another Hispanic man, or ‘corrected’ it by casting an Indian, but either way, I feel like going the colorblind casting route and making him an inoffensive British villain was a huge misstep. There are lots of other problems with STID’s portrayal, but the whole thing there is getting off on the wrong foot.

-As well, Khan is supposed to be a somewhat honorable, antiheroic, benevolent dictator figure. Sort of like the more sympathetic portrayals of Doctor Doom. This all goes out the window with Quinto!Spock stating that Benedict Khanberbatch intends to enact ethnic cleansing on all non-Augmented humans (!). This is basically completely opposite of the character in Space Seed and even TWOK, which means that the makers of a two hundred million dollar movie couldn’t be bothered to keep in continuity with three hours of film. 

-I mean, Kirk and the others specifically mention that Khan enacted “no massacres” and started no wars. The worst you could say of him was that he was apparently a major “security over freedom” type (which you’d think a big 9/11 analogy like STID would do something with). He was apparently quite sincere in trying to recruit the Enterprise crew to follow him, and in taking McGuyvers as his wife--all of them unAugmented. 

-The superstrength in STID I don’t mind so much, since Spock and Khan are both established in TOS to have superhuman strength and I’m sure if they had the production value to display that at the time, they would’ve. 

-The thing of Khan being awoken and him instantly turning into some master starship designer cum weapons developer, despite having been in a freezer for two hundred years, still strikes me as really stupid--the Villain Sue lazy storytelling equivalent of Rey blinking and becoming a Jedi Knight. True, Khan is a quick study in Space Seed, and able to take over the ship, but a key plot point is that he still needs the Enterprise crew to work it--if he were such a Reed Richards genius, and so were all his Augments, you’d think he could just have all of them study up and then crew the Enterprise themselves. (Of course, maybe he’s just softhearted and doesn’t want to eliminate the Starfleet personnel unless he absolutely has to, but then that goes right back to him supposedly being a genocidal maniac in STID.) The impression I got from Khan here, and Bashir in DS9, was that augmentation could make you a really, really good member of your chosen profession, but not some kind of God of Intelligence who could build a time machine out of two balls of yarn and some skis. 

-It must be said that Khan’s sartorial choices are apparently coveralls for all the dudes in his crew and fishnet bodystocking/bikini combos for all the ladies, so maybe he is a superior man after all.

No wonder Kirk admired him so much.

[khalilhumam]

What a second Trump term would mean for the world

New Post has been published on http://khalilhumam.com/what-a-second-trump-term-would-mean-for-the-world/

What a second Trump term would mean for the world

By Thomas Wright

If Donald Trump defies the odds and wins a second term, the next four years will likely be more disruptive to U.S. foreign policy and world affairs than the past four have been. Think of his reelection as a pincer movement, an attack on the international order from two sides. Trump will consolidate his control over the institutions of government, bending them to his will, removing any lingering resistance from the Republican Party. Meanwhile, by confirming that the United States has rejected its traditional leadership role, a second Trump term would make a lasting impact on the world right when it is at a particularly vulnerable moment. U.S. alliances would likely crumble, the global economy would close, and democracy and human rights would be in rapid retreat.

Trump’s first term has had a clear narrative arc. He systematically purges his government of those who stand up to him and replaces them with loyalists who indulge his whims and worldview. If he is still president on January 21, Trump will feel utterly vindicated by a second unlikely victory—thinking that only he is truly in touch with the American people.

In a second term, Trump will insist on loyalty with every appointment, but two types of loyalists exist. The first is senior Republicans who are steadfastly loyal even if they personally disagree with Trump on certain issues, such as Russia or military intervention in the Middle East. These figures are cut from the mold of Mike Pompeo. They include Senators Tom Cotton and Lindsey Graham, former United Nations Ambassador Nikki Haley, and Secretary of the Treasury Steve Mnuchin. Trump may give these people senior positions, but they will not be free to contradict the president or to pursue their own agendas unless they temporarily align with Trump.

The second group is the ultra-loyalists, who owe their positions entirely to Trump’s patronage. These are political operatives such as Richard Grenell, who was Trump’s ambassador to Germany and acted as director of national intelligence for 96 days, and retired military officers and now–cable-news commentators such as Anthony Tata and Douglas McGregor. This group also includes the ultra-ultras—Trump’s family members, who have played a role in his first term, and could be given formal positions of authority in a second. Think of Jared Kushner as national security adviser or secretary of state if Republicans retain a majority in the Senate.

With a loyal team in place, what does Trump want to do? The most optimistic theory is that he will be a responsible nationalist. With no elections left to fight and with a conviction that he set the world straight in his first term, he will let things be. For instance, he will be happy with NATO because member countries have committed to paying more for their own defense. His administration’s key policy driver will be to transform U.S. strategy for an era of great-power competition, particularly against China.

The responsible-nationalist theory has very little evidence to support it, though. Trump has never personally endorsed the key argument of his National Security Strategy, about great-power competition—not even in his December 2017 remarks introducing the plan. He is currently very hawkish on China, but that is possibly because he sees his rhetoric as a way to deflect attention from his failures on the coronavirus. He is still more motivated by narrow trade and economic concerns than by broader geopolitical interests in the Indo-Pacific. This theory also leaves out Trump and highlights policy documents that he played little role in creating.

The most accurate guide to Trump’s behavior has never been his views on a particular issue. It has always been his psychological profile and disposition—his paranoia, how he sees himself, his desperate need to be at the center of the news cycle, his susceptibility to flattery, his fury at perceived slights, and his deeply seated visceral instincts. Mary Trump’s family history provides more insights into Donald Trump’s plans than official documents do.

Given who the president is, another theory—Trump unbound—seems more likely. In this scenario, his appetite will grow with the eating. As John Bolton concludes in his book, Trump in a second term will be “far less constrained by politics than he was in a first term.” He will be free to be himself—to pursue policies that benefit him personally by linking decisions to his business interests; by indulging his desire for ratings and drama; and by attacking people he does not like, such as Angela Merkel, and helping people he does, such as Kim Jong Un.

Substantively, he will double down on his instincts, leaning into ideas he had before he became president. He could pull the plug on NATO entirely by refusing to defend Germany, France, and other selected countries under the mutual-defense clause. He could make this decision unilaterally, without authorization from Congress, as it simply entails altering a presidential interpretation of the purposefully vague NATO founding treaty.

He’s already tried to withdraw troops from South Korea in his first term. But he could make it happen in his second by entering into a peace treaty with North Korea. His first comments on foreign policy in the 1980s were criticisms of Japan, but earlier in his first term he modified his long-standing hostility because of his friendship with Shinzo Abe, which the then–prime minister carefully cultivated. Now, with Abe out of the picture, Trump could revert to Japan-bashing and questioning the alliance with Japan itself. Both of these steps could weaken U.S. competitiveness with China.

China is the big unknown in a second Trump term. The Republican foreign-policy establishment hopes that rivalry with China will be the organizing principle of U.S. foreign policy. If Trump buys into that stance, then these officials might use that to make the case for their preferred positions toward the Middle East (stay engaged to keep China out), on Europe (get NATO on board against China), and on economics (trade with your friends to compete with China). But no one knows whether Trump will support this agenda or whether he will pivot back to a much narrower form of competition with Beijing, one focused solely on economics while pulling back from America’s alliances.

The second part of the pincer movement—how the rest of the world will react—is also important in a second term. America’s allies and adversaries took a deep breath after the 2016 election. They did not know if Trump’s win was a temporary blip or a permanent change—indeed, this is the top question most foreign governments have had about the United States over the past four years, because it is so consequential to their future. Before the coronavirus hit, most allied foreign officials I spoke with tentatively thought that Trump would win a second term. Now, like almost everyone else, they see him as the underdog. If he wins again, friend and foe alike will accept that the post–World War II period of American leadership has come to a definitive end. The effect will vary from country to country. Some allies may cut deals with China and Russia. A small number could seek an independent nuclear deterrent. All will prepare for a world with less cooperation.

The coronavirus makes matters much worse. Many now widely accept that ordinary life will not return until a reliable vaccine is developed and widely distributed. The global economy is still teetering on the brink, rocked by the virus and the rivalry between the United States and China. Cooperation, particularly between the U.S. and Europe, has ground to a halt. The Trump administration’s priority is to signal its “America First” bona fides to its base rather than to build an international coalition to tackle shared problems. In a second Trump term, foreign countries can expect no coordination on the global economic recovery, the development of a vaccine, the repair of international institutions, or aid for those that were destabilized by the crisis. Openness—in terms of travel and trade—will not return to what passed for normal before the coronavirus. Every nation will have to fend for itself. The European Union and a handful of other democracies may try to keep the multilateral order alive, but it will become a relic, largely irrelevant to world events.

Autocrats—Vladimir Putin, Xi Jinping, Mohammed bin Salman, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, and others—have been both deeply insecure and emboldened during Trump’s first term. They see him as a kindred spirit and are confident in their ability to influence and persuade him. Trump acknowledged as much to Bob Woodward: “It’s funny, the relationships I have—the tougher and meaner they are, the better I get along with them … The easy ones are the ones I maybe don’t like as much or don’t get along with so much.” Those cozy relationships will continue and accelerate in a second term. Trump is easy to read, and with a mixture of flattery and inducements, the leaders will enlist Trump in their own causes, whether the elimination of dissent at home or turning a blind eye to regional aggression.

Looking back on U.S. diplomatic history, one of the great counterfactuals is what would have happened if Franklin D. Roosevelt had not replaced his vice president Henry Wallace with Harry Truman in 1944. Wallace was sympathetic to the Soviet Union and became an ardent opponent of the Cold War. If he had become president when FDR died, in April 1945, the next half century could have gone very differently—likely no NATO, no Marshall Plan, no alliance with Japan, no overseas troop presence, and no European Union.

The U.S. is now teetering on another historically important moment. With Trump, we would not only be deprived of our Truman. We would be saddled with our Wallace—a leader whose instincts and actions are diametrically opposed to what the moment requires. With few remaining constraints and a vulnerable world, a reelected Trump could set the trajectory of world affairs for decades to come.

[deputy-hawk]

my brain has been a void today so sorry if this is incoherent

but part 4 rewatch:

okay i’ve forgotten nearly everything about this ep, so this should be interesting for me

the rancho rosa logo is black and white on black and white and feels more mushroom cloud-y than usual

for some reason i remembered coop’s “dougie traits” being consistently at the forefront from the start, but that’s not the case with kmac’s performance here? the warm smile he gives the slot-machine woman feels like a good 70% strength diluted coop grin

apparently bill shaker’s wife is called CANDY

CANDY SHAKER

what if candy and candie ever met????

bless her for realising how disoriented coop is from the start: “you wanna go home, dougie? is that right?”

and again, she reads him perfectly: “where is your home? is that right?” honestly, if left to her own devices, candy shaker might have been able to do so much for him

“lancelot court” and “merlin’s market” – they really weren’t messing around with the ham-fisted arthurian references were they

every time he says “home” in that kind of broken way i want to stab my own heart out with a fork

he may have forgotten his name, but he retains information from scene to scene, and knows what he wants there and then (to go home). his voice is still steady and deliberate, not kind of slurred as it becomes later, and his eyes are also more focused. he’s just so much more present than i remembered?

e.g. when he turns his head to see the limo driver opening the door and lets out that little gasp? that’s much more of an immediate, present reaction to his surroundings than we get in later episodes

“all right? all right. i’ll wait right here with you.” (the limo driver is another kind soul)

is this the only episode of this season to feature an actual live owl??

the final time he says “home” here – he’s no longer pained and desperate, just numb.

“thanks, bill. how’s martha? she ever fix that thing with paul?” good evening everybody and welcome to twin peaks: the return, the show where everything’s made up and the names don’t matter

“i heard.” “how’s that?” “you’re taking agent preston with you? really, gordon?” so who told denise. tammy herself, seeking advice? albert? or some other concerned party, another woman?

something that has literally only just stuck out at me: “when i had you working undercover at the DEA.” so she never really was just DEA!!! she was a plant of gordon’s all along. veeery convenient.

"will albert be with you?” “do birds fly?” these two.

the police communications officer is called maggie and i'm going to marry her

dennis craig who overdoses at the high school. they say it’s “chinese designer drugs”, but i feel like we’re supposed to conclude that it was really whatever richard had been dealing for red? the same stuff becky and steven and gersten are on?

“when the bell rang, he never got up from his desk…” has laura palmer echoes all over it

“pinocchio’s friend” was the moment we all realised we definitely hated chad, and with very good reason, but it also made me think of albert (”happy generations” scene) and that hurt?? the association of this actual piece of slime with earnest and principled agent rosenfield of the early 90s? um. no thanks my bud

i remember when this episode aired that people were saying nobody in the room seemed to react to bobby crying at laura’s photo? idk what all that chat was about because everyone responds to it. hawk looks sympathetic and concerned for him, andy and lucy share a moment of sadness together, and frank just looks confused

(frank didn’t live in twin peaks at the time, he probably didn’t even know bobby was ever connected to laura in any significant way)

and then everyone leaves the room except hawk and bobby, at which point i hope hawk just gave him a big hug. somebody please just hug bobby briggs.

WALLY

man, i wish i could experience this for the first time again, i’m pretty sure i had an out of body experience

i read that they met through TM? can you even imagine david lynch and michael cera as meditation buddies?? what a world

honestly harry goaz and kimmy robertson nearly corpsing throughout this entire scene is what really makes it what it is, which is a MASTERPIECE

i have a lot of thoughts on janey-e and sadly few of them are positive. (that’s for another time though, that’ll be a long long post)

kyle maclachlan tweeted the other day that his favourite scenes to shoot from this season were all the ones involving sonny jim <3

after watching this breakfast scene for the first time i was craving american style pancakes for days and when i finally persuaded my twin to make them with me we almost burnt down the house

correct me if i’m wrong but in the latest episodes we haven’t seen dougie verbalise any original responses at ALL? (the last one i can remember is “he’s lying”?) but when he spits out his coffee here his “hi!” isn’t a repeated phrase, it’s all his own

CONSTANCE IS BACK

every time constance is onscreen she is all i can focus on i am very sorry, i’m just gay

ohhhhhhhhh oh oh, i had forgotten this was this episode ohh no

by “oh no” i mean “this whole sequence is in my top five moments of the whole season so far and i have not emotionally prepared myself for this”

also very little ever adequately prepares me for seeing chrysta bell in sunglasses

THERE THEY ARE, ALBERT. FACES OF STONE.

*picture of doppelcoop comes up on the screen* warden: that’s your man, right? tammy: *glance at albert, sad little sigh* albert: *stern but heartbroken* gordon: HOLY JUMPIN’ GEORGE

this is kmac’s best scene maybe... ever? some people don’t feel that doppelcoop quite hits the mark, but i was 100% sold from hereon in

“it’s yrev very good to see you again old friend”

miguel ferrer was just so good. So Good.

when doppelcoop repeats himself verbatim and the background whirring increases by just a fraction and all three of them have these very controlled looks of terror on their faces. this SCENE.

“i’ve never really left home, gordon.”

“are you feeling alright, albert?” “i’m fine, tammy.” <3

i hadn’t remembered this but the little red box gordon carries around with him everywhere is for detecting if anything’s bugged, it’s how he checks tammy is wearing her wire

okay. yikes. i have to say this. that “i’m feeling better now” line, with the shot literally panning down to catch as much of tammy’s ass as possible, was 100% written just as it sounds. david lynch is many things, but a feminist icon he is not. this was unnecessary sexualisation, plain and simple. and from ALBERT of all people? in poor taste AND completely ooc

i have to continue to headcanon it as a remark about albert being relieved his conversation is no longer being recorded, simply because it’s the only way i am able to stomach my favourite character blatantly eyeing up a colleague who is half his age AND under his direct authority (something he would never do, being both GAY and NOT HUMAN SLIME)

but anyway, aside from those few horrific seconds which i am going to bury somewhere so deep down i won’t ever be able to find them again, this scene is also one of my favourites

if anyone has any thoughts on gordon’s “albert. albert… albert?” with the high pitched whine in the background growing steadily louder, then please send them to me. i’m aware that there’s a myriad of emotions in there, but there is such specificity in his delivery?

(also imo david’s acting here is as good as miguel ferrer’s and that is really really saying something)

“I’M SORRY GORDON.” “albert, this thing is turned up to the max, please.” *quietly and genuinely* “i’m sorry, gordon.”

what are these FEELINGS

“do you understand this situation, albert?” “…….blue rose.” “it doesn’t get any bluer.” this feels so different post part 14. they’re specifically referencing doppelgangers à la case #1 here?

“i know where she drinks.” the implication that he kept in touch with her and that they occasionally drank together??? please and thanks?

but also... ouch

honestly if this season had given me literally nothing else, it at least would have given me au revoir simone, so it all would have been worth it

[lilbreck]

Title: Chapter 6: A Compass and a Willing Accomplice Characters: Bonnie Bennet, Carol Lockwood, Caroline Forbes, Elena Gilbert, Eric, Jeremy Gilbert, Tyler Lockwood, Richard Lockwood, Qetsiyah Rating/Warning: FRT Word Count: 3,242 A/N: Thank you so much to kirythestitchwitch for being my second set of eyes on this. Though I list a lot of characters, and some of them actually do get dialog, some of them just pass through.

Tyler's mom had been overly accommodating, overly understanding, and had damn near been smothering him all morning. He understood that she was just trying to take care of him, but she had only managed to make him feel claustrophobic. He could feel the guilt churning in his gut and her deliberate avoidance of what had happened only made it worse. He had killed a man.

In his head, he knew it was an accident. The sheriff had said that it was an accident. The growing sense of self-hatred inside of him said he was a murderer. The fact that his genetic werewolf curse had been triggered said it didn't matter; he was fucked either way.

The sound of a car pulling up the front drive snapped Tyler out of his spiraling thoughts. The newness of being able to hear the ticking of the engine after it was turned off and the car doors closing even from deep in the house held him spellbound for an embarrassing amount of time. It was only the clicking of heels coming up the stairs of the front porch that had him cracking open his door out of habit to be able to hear better. He had intended to simply remain in his self-imposed solitary confinement, but he couldn't resist the urge to go down when he heard Caroline Forbes talking to his mother downstairs.

By the time he made it to the foyer, his dad had joined his mom and Caroline. He had heard the argument on his way down the stairs, but was having a difficult time making sense of it.

"This is Lockwood family business, so I'd thank you to stay out of it."

Even the sound of his father's voice sent a rush of anger through him and set his teeth on edge. He was quickly distracted from that anger by the scent coming from Caroline. He couldn't tell if it was just that she wasn't family, or something else, but her scent put him on edge. She smelled… dangerous. The feeling he got from her scent was so strong that he was shocked that her voice was calm and even when she talked to his dad.

"Since Mason left town, I'm the person most qualified to help Tyler out right now."

He wanted to ask her what made her sure she would be able to help him, but his dad was already arguing through his condescending sneer before he could.

"We don't need our son turned into a monster."

Suddenly Caroline wasn't calm. Her look turned cold and cruel and her voice was suddenly hard when she said, "And tell me, what makes a monster, Mayor Lockwood? Is it belittling and humiliating your family? Maybe drowning yourself in alcohol so you can ignore what's happening to your son? Or maybe killing someone at a party. I can tell you, I haven't done any of that, so I'm not the monster around here."

And just like that the guilt was back. He was feeling nauseous and so he barely paid attention as his mother, for the first time in his memory, stood up to his father. He couldn't feel proud or even awed because he was too consumed by the pain of what he had done and that Caroline saw him as a monster. That thought swirled through this head as she led him out through the back door and walked him around the lake.

He couldn't even bring himself to look at her as they rounded the opposite side of the lake and sat down on the stone bench facing his home. He had never really been able to stand silence for very long, and so he found himself speaking up first.

"So, did you actually have something you wanted to talk about, or did you just come to gawk at Mystic Falls' newest monster?"

Suddenly Caroline was animated; she turned her body toward him and her hands came to rest reassuringly on his shoulder and forearm. He could barely understand what she was saying as she stumbled over her words, though he did hear her repeatedly say that he wasn't a monster. His disbelief apparently showed, however, and she quickly jumped up to pace before him for a quick moment before turning to face him. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them and giving him a small, apologetic smile.

"When I get angry, I start talking without thinking. And what I say is not always true or even what I really think. What I said back there, it was said to try and hurt your parents."

At this she walked back to the bench, once again sitting with her body facing him and her hands on his arm. This time, he turned his head to look at her. There were tears in her eyes and she looked like she understood what he was feeling.

"You're not a monster, Tyler. Being a werewolf doesn't make you a monster. And you're not a murderer."

She looked like she was about to say something more, but instead she turned to look back at the house. He couldn't just leave it at that, and so he moved his hand and lightly touched the back of it to hers.

"What is it you're not saying?"

She looked like she was trying to decide if she should say anything, but then turned to him with a determined expression.

"I don't think Keith went after you on his own. He didn't even have a girlfriend, he had a boyfriend."

It only took a second for Tyler to make the connection between what Caroline was saying and things Mason had told him when he let him in on all things supernatural.

"You think maybe a vampire compelled him to come after me? So, either someone wanted me dead or…"

He couldn't bring himself to say it. He hadn't even fully accepted that he was a werewolf yet, and now there was a chance that someone had gone out of their way to make sure his curse was triggered.

He was brought out of his horrific thoughts by the pressure of Caroline's hand on his. He noted in the back of him mind that she felt cool, even more so than everyone else had felt since last night.

"I'm not really sure of anything yet, it's just a feeling. I'll see what I can find out. For now, we need to talk about your options."

He wanted to ask her what options she could be thinking of. Mason had told him there was no cure. No way to stop from changing once a month once you triggered the curse. The only way to control it at all was… He suddenly understood what she was talking about. The thought sent a chill through him and he had the urge to run as fast and as far as he could. He threw himself off the bench to pace where Caroline had just moments earlier.

"I don't want to be a hybrid. It's gonna be bad enough turning hairy once a month. I don't want to add the urge to rip out the throat of the people around me and drink their blood as well."

A second after he said that, he remembered who he was talking to. When he looked at Caroline, however, she didn't look upset or even offended.

"I chose to be this, Tyler. But it's not for everyone. And being a hybrid isn't even the same thing. There's nothing wrong with admitting you don't want to be one. We'll figure something out. I'll do what I can to find Mason but, if I can't, I'll be here to help you through it."

And just like that he felt like maybe it would be all right. He and Caroline talked some more and it became obvious that, given all the plans she laid out, she had put some thought into how to help him. That sense of well-being carried through the rest of the day, through the night, and right up until he made it to the school the next morning. There, he was suddenly reminded that Keith's death hadn't happened in a vacuum. All the other students were staring at him and he could hear their whispers as he passed. Even the teachers were staring, though they looked more sympathetic.

By lunch he was ready to crawl out of his own skin or, at the very least, hop into his car and drive out to the middle of nowhere so he could scream. He had even gone so far as to begin making his way to the parking lot when he heard Caroline calling his name. He turned and saw her sitting at a picnic table with Bonnie, Elena, and Jeremy. Though he wasn't sure about the other three, he couldn't resist the lure of the calm Caroline could provide.

They let him sit quietly while they unpacked their lunches, though as soon as they were all settled and started eating, Bonnie said to him, "Grams and I are working on something for you to take care of the pain next week."

He resisted the urge to snap and, instead, took a shaking breath before responding.

"Yeah, that's right, you're a… a witch."

Turning to look at Jeremy, he asked, "What are you, then?"

He wasn't sure if asking something like that was rude, but Jeremy didn't seem phased. He only gave a smirk and said, "Just human, for now. Oh, and the witch's familiar."

At this he turned and gave Bonnie a wink. Her eyes got wide and she gave an embarrassed laugh, but didn't deny it. Elena, for her part, looked mildly disturbed by whatever images his statement had conjured in her mind. After that, all conversation turned to normal high school bullshitting. Tyler had to admit to himself that he had never been so happy to complain about hard-ass teachers and how ridiculous the homework was. There were occasional glances exchanged that he didn't get, but he felt safe in assuming that was just because they were closer to each other than him.

The next day Bonnie still wasn't sure how to feel about Tyler becoming part of their "club". It wasn't that she didn't like Tyler --his past douchebag behaviors notwithstanding. It was just that they weren't telling him everything. Caroline had said that he had enough to deal with given he'd just accidently killed someone, but it still made it hard to really get close to him while keeping key information from him. She was so on edge from watching everything she said around him that it was a huge relief when he turned down Jeremy's offer to study with them.

Of course, that meant that not much studying got done. Thankfully, her dad was out of town again, so she didn't have to worry about any awkward questions or having to be careful how she acted. It felt wonderful to spend hours just lazily making out with a boy who adored her and who she adored. It felt so good, in fact, that she didn't bother to untangle from him even as she watched him falling asleep in the dark of her room through heavy eyes.

She didn't remember closing her eyes, but when she opened them again she was still in her bed but no longer wrapped around Jeremy. She felt a breeze ghost over her body right before she realized that she was no longer inside. Sitting up she could tell, even in the dark, that her bed was now in what looked to be an ancient Greek garden or temple. Of course, it could have just as easily have been the back of the Mikaelson mansion for all that she could see in the dark. She could make out what looked to be a well or small stone pond a few yards past the end of her bed.

Bonnie heard a soft flutter behind her and turned her upper body enough to see a crow perched on the wrought iron of her headboard. There was no doubt in her mind that it was Eric.

"Hey, there. Haven't seen you in a while."

Without a sound, Eric took flight past Bonnie, forcing her to turn back around to keep him in sight. He landed on the stone edge of the pond. Where the area had been empty just a moment before, she could now see all five of the Mikaelson siblings standing around it, glaring at each other. Her attention, however, was quickly caught by something further beyond them.

Propped up against a column was a full-length mirror. The frame was oval and looked to be made of dark, wrought iron. She couldn't be sure from this distance, but the design on the frame looked familiar. Curious, she quietly got off her bed, trying not to draw the attention of the family locked in a silent argument.

As she rounded the group, she could feel a heaviness in the air that made it difficult to breath. She could feel her heart beat faster as her body reacted instinctively to the danger they presented. She did her best to remain quiet as she sped up her pace to get past them. When she was finally walking away, she could feel the air around her lighten and it was suddenly easier to breathe. She was so focused on her new ease of breathing that it took her a moment to notice that there was someone in the mirror.

"Qetsiyah."

The woman only gave a small smile in acknowledgement. Bonnie saw her glance over her shoulder where she knew the Mikaelsons were still locked in their bitter stances. Her smile turned proud when she looked back at Bonnie.

"You felt that, when you passed them, didn't you? All that betrayal, and guilt, and rage. That volatile emotion, if harnessed properly, would be wonderful fuel for magic. And this is just what I need you to use it for."

She gestured at the frame, and Bonnie took the time to get a good look at it. It was black and ornate, and the design seemed familiar. It wasn't until she noticed the five daggers embedded around the frame and pointed inward toward the mirror itself that she knew why it was familiar.

"You want me to use the daggers to make this mirror?"

As if in answer, Qetsiyah stepped through the mirror as if it were an open doorway. She stepped in close to her and placed her hands on either side of Bonnie's head.

"It's why I had Caroline ask for them. The crow has the spell for you. He's all too happy to help in Caroline's mission. I've instructed your familiar to draw the frame without the daggers. After you've used this family to do the spell, I'll take care of the rest."

Without waiting for an answer, Qetsiyah leaned in to place a kiss on Bonnie's forehead and Bonnie closed her eyes instinctively. When she opened them again, she was laying on her bed back in her room. Hearing the soft flutter of wings, she glanced up at her headboard to see Eric perched there.

"I hope you don't mind, but I raided your kitchen for some fresh fruit for him."

Sitting up, she saw Jeremy sitting on the chair across from her bed, lit by the floor lamp beside him. He gave her a rueful grin and held up the sketch he'd obviously been working on. She could see the beginnings of the mirror Qetsiyah had shown her, though there were empty slots in the drawing where the daggers had been.

"I got a commission from the great beyond. It's gonna probably take me a couple of days to finish it."

As he returned to sketching, Bonnie felt the soft weight of Eric landing beside her on the bed. He gave her a couple of nudges with his head before he flew out through her bedroom door. She got up to follow him, figuring she'd feed him a few more bits of fruit before she called Caroline to see about getting a mirror made.

As she moved to get off her bed, she felt the crinkle of paper under her hand. Looking down, she saw a page that looked to be torn from a grimoire. She carried it with her as she stood up from the bed and walked over the Jeremy. He looked up and quietly accepted her kiss before going back to his sketch once again.

Checking the time and seeing that it was four in the morning, she decided she would also make herself some coffee before she had to deal with a cranky Caroline. As her coffee brewed, she studied the spell that Eric had apparently delivered, feeding him bits of fruit as he demanded them. When she got up to pour herself a cup of coffee, she also grabbed a notepad and pen from one of the side tables in the living room. It wasn't until she had completed her list of supplies that she finally made the call to Caroline who, strangely enough, didn't sound like she had been asleep at all.

"I've been trying to hunt down Mason, but he's almost as good at hiding as Katherine is, apparently. So, what's so important that you couldn't have waited a couple of hours until school to talk about?"

Though it was said without any accusation, Bonnie still felt a bit foolish for calling instead of waiting until she saw her friend.

"Actually, I didn't even think about waiting. Either way, it's not really something I want to be talking about in the middle of the school hallway."

At Caroline's interested hum, Bonnie continued, "I got a visit from Qetsiyah in my dream last night. Jeremy did too. She wants us to use the Mikaelson daggers to build a mirror. She didn't tell me exactly what for, but she had Eric drop off a page with the spell I needed."

Caroline gave an amused snort and interrupted, "I wonder whose book he ripped that from."

Bonnie laughed in agreement, but got back to the reason of her call.

"I was hoping you'd know how to find someone who can build a custom mirror at a decent price."

It really shouldn't have surprised her at this point that Caroline quickly came up with a couple of ideas on how to find someone to build the mirror and how to convince Klaus or Kol to finance it all.

"After all, what's the point of working with ancient vampires with too much money if not to use said money?"

When they ended the conversation, Bonnie quickly made a call to her Grams to talk about picking up ingredients. By the time she was done, it was time for her to get ready for school. She had to spend some time convincing Jeremy that they had a while before Caroline could find someone to build the mirror so he didn't need to have the sketch done within in the next few hours. When all was said and done, she had to bend a few speeding laws to drop Jeremy off at his house make it to class on time, and she found herself longing either for a time before she knew about the supernatural or to be done with Silas and everything surrounding him.

[philippmichelreichold]

 On Analog  January/February 2010

Analog Science Fiction Science Fact is the oldest surviving Science Fiction magazine. As Analog's  (then Astounding's) editor,   John W. Campbell ushered and nourished the  Golden Age of Science  Fiction. Campbell insisted on science in Science Fiction.  Today, Analog still  contains hard science stories and has a regular Science Fact feature. I had not read Analog in years, and am absolutely thrilled with my first issue in far too long. In a world where I feel I would be better off without a television, It's refreshing to find drama and suspense that does not reek of violence, and comedy and humor that is not redolent with obscenity/profanity. At a time when the Discovery Channel has reached new lows in pseudo science, it is encouraging to read science popularizations that are actually based in science. The underlying motif to this issue is doing the right thing. In Buddhist terms-- Right Action. Of course, reasonable beings may disagree as to what Right Action might be in a given situation. And sometimes one learns after the fact that one's action was not the best choice after all.

Rejiggering the Thingamajig by

Eric James Stone

is a

wonderful story

about doing what's right. Never thought I'd read a story where a Buddhist T. rex was the protagonist. Bokeerk is a wonderful character, and her companion for her mission, a sentient gun, is a delight. The gun reminded me of the talking bullets in

Who framed Roger Rabbit

or Yosemite Sam. To get home to her children's imminent hatching, she must follow the Eightfold path. Neptune�s TreasureBy Richard A. Lovett is an AI story.   Floyd has an AI living in his head name of Brittney. Reminiscent of the movie

All of Me

, only set in

Neptune

space and without Steve Martin and Lilly Tomlin. Floyd and Brittney have serious personal/autonomy issues. The science of the story is wonderful-- mass drivers and recovery vessels. And space bicycles as well. Also spracht Strattman

Thus Spake the Aliens

by H. G. Stratmann is a story about saving the world, complete with large red Doomsday-cutoff-switch-button. These aliens are in the same business as Clarke's

Others

with a more up close and personal approach. And they are quite implacable about weeding if the need arises. To say the story is rich in allusions to other works would be a vast understatement. The connection between the title of the story and of Richard Strauss's song, widely acclaimed for its use in

2001

, could not be an accident.

The key to the story is a problem that is not often addressed, or more to the point-- it's largely ignored. There is a dead line for establishment of a real presence in space-- the point at which we exhaust cheap, abundant sources of energy. Somewhere before we reach that point is the point where a struggle ensues for control of those energy sources that remain. Whether or not civilization survives that struggle will have little impact on  what happens next. No alternative, renewable source will be able to fill the gap that will be left with the depletion of fossil fuels. Nuclear power will remain expensive, dangerous, and will only postpone the collapse. Fusion will remain as elusive as a will-o'-the-wisp for some time. We have gigatons of Hydrogen, but fusion's most

promising process

relies  not on Hydrogen but Lithium. Even if a Lithium-to-Tritium  plant started working tomorrow, we have no way of foreseeing the consequences of eliminating any particular element from the biosphere and would need to work with highly radioactive Tritium.  

Unless Stratman's aliens show up soon to terraform Mars and Venus, and  hand us the keys to the secrets of the Universe, tough times are ahead of us. We will have to use less energy per person or reduce the number of people using energy. We would eventually return to subsistence farming with limited manufacturing powered by wind and solar power-- essentially back to the 17th century. Perhaps the answer to the

Fermi-Hart paradox

 is that no civilization has been able to solve the energy crisis and overcome the energy gap. (It takes a huge amount of energy to go from planet to planet. Witness the huge fuel tanks of the Saturn V's needed to send

Apollo

to the moon.) Even if one used  

the Orion nuclear pulse drive

to establish a local system space program, the unavailability of cheap, abundant energy would make it difficult to maintain the necessary level of technology. Once nuclear fuel became the mainstay of the economy, space exploration could be sacrificed as having a lower priority than meeting needs back home. Perhaps we are not the first civilization to see the stars not quite in our grasp and then to watch them slip away forever.  The Possession of Paavo Deshin

Kristine Kathryn Rusch

has a profile in this issue of Analog. I'm impressed by the thoroughness of her stories. Rusch builds her characters in a believable and sympathetic manner that leaves me yearning for more.

Possession

is one of her

Retrieval Artist

� stories. Retrieval artists are bounty hunters in a convoluted universe, and  Miles Flint is among the very best. Paavo was adopted after his birth parents fled to evade some outstanding alein warrants. But his birth parents have made sure they can keep in touch, naturally.  

Paavo's birth parents are Disappeareds-- essentially outlaws in the old sense of the word. Flint is hired by not one but two clients to locate the birth parents. His adoptive parents are well to do, powerful, and tainted by underworld connections. And they adore Paavo as if he were born to them. Maybe more so.  Rusch make quite plain her view on the subject of birth parents that re-enter a child's life wreaking havoc as they assert their rights. She equates them with terrorists, while Paavo's adoptive father is in his eyes, regardless of how others see him, the ideal and epitome of fatherhood.

(Uncle Orson review of the Retrieval Artist stories.)

Shame by  

Mike Resnick

&

Lezli Robyn

is a fairly straight forward example of what not to do. Given the colonists's mindset and attitude toward Satan, their actions should not have been unexpected. Perhaps that's the real shame of the story-- that as atrocious as the colonists's appear to the author and to his moral authority figure, given human nature they were unsurprising.

Simple Giftsby

Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff

is a story about the stereotypically greedy corporation out to profit on the simplicity's and naivety of the primitive, non tech natives. What could be more innocuous than a race that closely resembles (in appearance) the

Who's of Whoville

. The ethnologist and linguist sent to learn about the alien's language and culture implore the company to slow down on making a deal with the aliens and are disregarded as obstructionists. The outcome is inevitable, but the suspense building makes it all worthwhile. On Rickety Thistlewaite by  

Michael F. Flynn

is about the prison that is public service. Making oneself indispensable can be very rewarding and satisfying. Then it becomes an obligation not taken lightly by those who depend on you. As Harry Mudd exclaims to the

Enterprise

command team in

I, Mudd

. . . . A War of StarsDavid L. Clements writes a crisp and interesting story about questioning values and making choices. The concept of intelligence housed in celestial bodies-- the cores of planets and stars-- is reminiscent of

Rogue Star

in the

Star Child Trilogy

by Frederik Pohl and Jack Williamson. I would have hoped though that anyone advanced enough to use stars as weapons would also be advanced enough to not do so. Perhaps I'm just excessively naive.  

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[randomrichards]

OSCAR 2019 PREDICTIONS PART 4: THE ACTING AWARDS

BEST ACTOR:

·         Antonio Banderas as Salvador Mallo, an aging director who confronts his past before his film’s anniversary screening in PAIN & GLORY

·         Leonardo DiCaprio as Rick “F#$%ing” Dalton, an insecure aging tv actor who fears his star is fading in ONCE UPON A TIME…IN HOLLYWOOD

·         Adam Driver as Charlie, a New York stage director facing an ugly divorce in MARRIAGE STORY

·         Joaquin Phoenix as Arthur Fleck, a mentally unstable and abused comedian who becomes the iconic villain in JOKER

·         Jonathan Pryce as Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio, a progressive catholic Cardinal who would become Pope Francis in THE TWO POPES

Who Will Win?

Joaquin Phoenix’s ready to take the Oscar for playing one of the most iconic comic book villains of all time. Whether they love or hate the movie, everyone agrees he gave a powerful performance.

His version couldn’t be more different from Heath’s Ledger’s performance. Ledger’s was a calculating embodiment of chaos longing to watch the world burn. Phoenix’s version is a way more grounded performance.

Phoenix’s performance reminds me of Charlize Theron’s Oscar winning performance. Both performances reveal the humanity within monstrous characters, showcasing how their circumstances have left them unable to adjust to normal life. At the same time, the performances don’t back away from the disturbing aspects of their character’s personality.

A unique element to Phoenix’ performance is his physicality. He starts out as an average, raggedy schlub. As he descends into madness, he becomes so skinny you can see his ribs. Then he seems to contort his body, like his bones are trying to escape his body.

But his career highpoint comes in the climax when he appears on Murray Franklin’s (Robert De Niro) late night talk show. By now, he’s lost touch with reality, telling perverted jokes on national television and letting all his deep seeded resentment out in a furious rant.

He delivers big time.

BEST ACTRESS:

·         Cynthia Erivo as Harriet Tubman, a former slave turned freedom fighter who led many slaves through the underground railroad in HARRIET

·         Scarlett Johansson as Nicole, an actress facing an ugly divorce in MARRIAGE STORY

·         Saoirse Ronan as Jo March, a fiercely independent up and coming writer in LITTLE WOMEN

·         Charlize Theron as Megyn Kelly, the real life former Fox News host who helped blow the whistle on Roger Ailes’ sexual misconduct in BOMBSHELL

·         Renee Zellweger as Judy Garland, a struggling actress who struggles with drug addiction and personal demons during a tour in England in JUDY

Who Will Win?

Renee Zellweger is the clear winner for embodying the immortal who died too soon.

One look at her and you see no sign of Zellweger. What you see is the most iconic actress/singer to ever come out of Hollywood. From the black curly hair to her sad doe eyes, Zellweger perfectly captures Garland’s look.

Well, the only element she couldn’t capture is Garland’s iconic voice. You still hear Zellweger’s voice when she talks or sings. But you soon forget about it because Zellweger’s still an excellent singer, especially when she sings Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

The Garland we meet is at her lowest point, desperate for any job after she’s burned too many bridges with the Hollywood that has psychologically damaged her. Her tour in London is her last chance for a comeback. You feel so bad for her as she tries to maintain a stable living for her children while battling her demons. It’s hard to watch her deal with cruel hecklers. At the same time, you can’t help but be frustrated by herself destructive behavior as she downs pills, behaves unprofessionally and being so out of it during performances. It’s clear she’s struggling with mental illness brought on by a cruel childhood and needs the counselling no one is providing.

Zellweger breaks through the shallow image to reveal Judy Garland’s nuanced humanity.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR:

·         Tom Hanks as Mr. Fred Rogers, the iconic children’s tv show host who offers a sympathetic ear to a troubled journalist (Matthew Rhys) in A BEATIFUL DAY IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD

·         Sir Anthony Hopkins as Pope Benedict, a disgraced Pope who resigns from his position in THE TWO POPES

·         Al Pacino as Jimmy Hoffa, the bombastic real life Union Boss who would mysteriously disappear in THE IRISHMAN

·         Joe Pesci as Russell Bufalion, the cool, friendly mobster who takes the title character (Robert De Niro) under his win in THE IRISHMAN

·         Brad Pitt as Cliff Booth, Rick Dalton’s stuntman and the embodiment of cool in ONCE UPON A TIME…IN HOLLYWOOD

Who Will Win?

Brad Pitt finally gets an acting award playing the coolest guy in film history.

Tarantino always seems determined to make Pitt look as cool as possible in his movies. First, he made Pitt the ultimate American Matinee Hero in Inglorious Basterds and how he’s has Pitt playing one awesome stuntman. He succeeded because never has Brad Pitt been more awesome. With his Hawaiian shirt, Blue Jeans and Cadillac Coupe de Ville, Cliff Booth is for Stuntmen what the Dude is for hippies. You wish you could be like Cliff Booth or at least have him as a friend.

Which is no small feat considering how bad his life is. While his friend Rick Dalton’s living in luxury, Cliff lives in a rundown trailer behind a drive-in theatre, eating kraft dinner with his pit-bull. He also has a hard time getting jobs because of a rumor that he killed his wife.[1] Despite this, you’d still rather be him and his whiny friend Rick.

While he’s gives a great performance, I feel the actor more deserving of this award is Joe Pesci. His character couldn’t be more different than his Oscar winning role of Tommy De Vito (Goodfellas). While Tommy is a volatile powder keg you avoid at all costs, Russel is an easygoing boss you’d love to have a beer with or a friend you go on cross country trips with.

But you come to realize underneath the demeanor is a cold hearted businessman. Nowhere is this truer than when he casually orders the death of Jimmy Hoffa like he’s firing an employee.

But it looks like Pitt’s taking home the trophy

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS:

·         Kathy Bates as Bob Jewel, a desperate mother who finds her son (Paul Walter Hauser) falsely accused of causing the 1996 Atlanta Bombings in RICHARD JEWELL

·         Laura Dern as Nora Fanshaw, the attorney who represents Nicole in MARRIAGE STORY

·         Scarlett Johansson as Rosie, JoJo’s (Roman Griffin Davis) compassionate mother who’s hiding a Jewish girl (Tomasin McKenzie) in JOJO RABBIT

·         Florence Pugh as Amy March, a bratty kid who becomes a practical painter after some hard learned wisdom in LITTLE WOMEN

·         Margot Robbie as Kayla Pospisil, an eager up and coming Fox News Executive subjected to sexual harassment by Roger Ailes (John Lithgow) in BOMBSHELL

Who Will Win?

Laura Dern takes the lead for her supporting performance. It’s all thanks to her first appearance.

When she first meets Nicole, Nora approaches her like high school friends at a sleep over; putting her feet on the couch and letting Nicole air her grievances. I’m surprised she didn’t pull out the ice cream. In another scene, she delivers an excellent monologue about the unrealistic standards society places on Mothers, especially during Divorce cases. Dern brings a lot of personality to her character into what little screen time she has.

Dern also shines in the courtroom scenes as she brushes off Ray Liotta’s rebuttals. While Liotta’s loud and blunt, Dern’s a cool assassin who uses Nicole’s anecdotes as weapons against Charlie.

[1] And one flashback scene strongly implies he did.

[byblacks]

MEET THE BLACK LAWYER ON A MISSION TO EXPUNGE THE CANNABIS CONVICTIONS OF HALF A MILLION CANADIANS

On the surface, Annamaria Enenajor was an unlikely candidate to become the face of cannabis legalization reform in Canada.

But as Canada edged towards decriminalizing marijuana, it was frequently Enenajor, as founder and campaign director of Cannabis Amnesty, on the airwaves pushing for the deletion of criminal records for the half-million Canadians with simple possession convictions.

“I think it’s hilarious,” the Toronto criminal defence lawyer says of her leap from strait-laced legal eagle to passionate pot advocate. “I had this joke when I first started Cannabis Amnesty that marijuana was as significant in my life as oregano, an herb I thought about occasionally and didn’t really use.”

As incongruous as it might initially appear, Enenajor’s path makes perfect sense. A zeal for social justice, combined with a determined focus to confront systemic racism, weaves through her life and a career arc that finds her now, at only 34, a partner in one of Toronto’s high-profile law firms and an emerging champion of legal reform.

That passion to give voice to the often voiceless was evident when she was part of a team representing prisoners at Rikers Island in a civil-rights class action against New York City to end the use of excessive force. It was evident when, also in New York, she represented LGBT asylum-seekers, and staffed a legal clinic for Hispanic immigrants in the Bronx. And when she volunteered at a New Delhi human rights documentation centre, monitoring refugees in India.

And it drives her work on the cannabis project. The government has proposed pardoning those with convictions, technically called a record suspension, but those records would still exist. Enenajor continues to rally support to have those lingering files completely expunged.

“Having come from a critical social science background which I tried to apply in law school, I had a strong understanding of how drug prosecutions in general were disproportionately meted out against vulnerable members of society, Indigenous people, people of colour, people with addictions,” she explains.

“That’s been sort of what drew me to criminal law as well. The fact that our criminal justice system tends to put away those people who are the most vulnerable, not necessarily those who are the worst members of society.”

That sensitivity in her approach to the law is what prompted the powerhouse boutique firm headed by Clayton Ruby and Brian Shiller to name Enenajor a partner last year. She was only 33 and had been with the firm since 2015.

“It is incredibly young,” acknowledges Ruby. “But she’s got the qualities we want; not just excellence and skills — I mean she clerked for the present Chief Justice of Canada — but mostly that sense of commitment to change. Somewhere along the line, she decided she was not going to just do great lawyering, because she can go down to the corporate world and make a lot more money doing it. She decided she really wanted to make the world a better place. That’s what makes her appropriate for us.”

While that might sound Pollyannaish, Enenajor’s compassionate approach not only peppers her resumé, it is evident in her voice. As she reflects on her career, sitting in her office on the second floor of a repurposed Victorian house on Isabella St., her words sometimes crack with emotion. That tremor is there when she recalls the concentration of “Black men in cages” in the New York penal system and it surfaces again when discussing the “devastating mental health implications” that overzealous policing and detention have on the marginalized.

That humanistic perspective can be traced back to her youth and the influence of her parents.

The daughter of a Black Nigerian father and a white Slovak mother, Enenajor moved from Slovakia to Edmonton when she was 6. There, her mother studied Slavic linguistics but when her student visa expired two years later, the family relocated to Nigeria.

Enenajor says her father, Gilbert, a doctor, had been active in student organizations, and on his return he started a hospital and tried to bring improved medical care to poor communities.

Annamaria’s mother, Anna, was a religious woman who put a strong emphasis on the “preferential option for the poor” principle, which stresses ensuring the well-being of society’s downtrodden and powerless.

Enenajor inherited the sympathetic tendencies of both.

“I was a very strong Catholic until probably about my mid-20s and then as I drifted away, the accoutrements and rituals of the church disappeared but that sense of justice and the beatitudes — like blessed are the poor, the weak and the humble — always stayed with me,” she says.

“The highest aspiration as a human is to serve others and to do so with love. There’s this great quote from (philosopher) Dr. Cornel West and he says ‘Never forget that justice is what love looks like in public.’ ”

When Annamaria was 10, the family moved back to Canada, settling in the Don Mills and Sheppard area of Toronto, a neighbourhood she recalls as a “happy bubble of multiculturalism.”

While her mother first worked teaching high school equivalency courses at the Mimico Correctional Centre, her dad spent his early days mostly at the Fairview Library. Gilbert had been a pediatrician in Nigeria and he was studying to be a licensed physician in Canada. Annamaria was often at his side doing her homework and surrounded by books that brought the world to her. Even as a preteen Gilbert recalls his daughter taking an interest in international affairs, politics and religion. She also had the un-childlike ability to sit and read for hours.

“She was a very inquisitive child,” Gilbert recalls.

Gilbert says he and Anna tried to shelter their three children from racism so they would “grow up to love everybody” and view everyone as equal, but even the cocoon of family life isn’t a completely protective bubble wrap.

“When she started to see how (some minorities) were treated, she said there’s no way you can say there’s no racism.”

Seeing discrimination, Gilbert believes, planted the desire in his daughter “to defend things that are not right.”

Annamaria remembers being bullied her in Edmonton school where she and her sister “were pretty much the only Black kids, and when I say Black, we’re half-Black.”

She thought it remarkably shallow that someone would judge another based solely on the pigment of their skin.

“That really instilled in me how devastating racism can be because it diminishes your sense of self-worth,” she says. “When you have a diminished sense of self-worth, there is no need for you to be a contributing member of society. So that’s what has always stood out to me as being incredibly toxic about racism.”

Once the family was in Toronto, Enenajor came to understand, even as a high schooler, that visible minorities were treated more harshly by institutions such as the police; she inherently understood she was subject to different expectations. It informed her behaviour.

“I would not touch drugs at all because I knew that if I were to make that mistake it would follow me for the rest of my life,” she says. “I had internalized this knowledge that I would be scrutinized more by the police or by authorities than my peers who were not of a minority background.”

A Toronto Star investigation in 2017 revealed that Black people with no criminal convictions were three times more likely to be arrested for marijuana possession than white people. Consumption rates tend to be the same between the two groups.

Enenajor immersed herself in schoolwork with a drive much like that of her parents. Her dad ultimately did become a Canadian doctor while her mom progressed to be a school administrator.

Upon graduation from St. Joseph’s Morrow Park Catholic Secondary School, Enenajor earned a prestigious $100,000 Loran Scholarship, from a foundation supporting Canada’s future leaders. Even with that, she considered devoting herself to religious works as a nun.

“She said, ‘I just feel I want to go help people. I want to go and feed refugees,’” recalls Gilbert. Neither parent was pleased with this apparent change in plan.

“There was an intervention,” says Enenajor.

Enenajor went to school and put together the resumé of a classic overachiever.

Enenajor aced everything she studied, graduating from the University of Toronto as the top student in international relations, which she had mixed with courses in Christianity and culture. Then she earned a Master’s degree in forced migration from the Refugee Studies Centre at the University of Oxford. That took her to New Delhi as a volunteer monitoring the rights of refugees.

Then her rapid progress hit a speed bump.

Enenajor returned to Canada to study law at McGill University and, for the first time, she struggled with the subject matter. She met an academic counsellor and was told “law school isn’t for everyone.”

An angry Enenajor adopted an I’ll-show-you attitude.

“I was always a very, very serious student. My parents instilled that in me,” she says. “Education is very important. It’s how you get yourself out of poverty. It’s how you make a name for yourself. It’s how you ensure your income. It’s how you participate in society. You have to become educated. No one can take that away from you.”

She ultimately graduated with civil and common law degrees and was awarded the David L. Johnson gold medal for highly distinguished standing while contributing to the academic, social and community life at the school in an outstanding manner. She served as vice-president of the Black Law Students’ Association of McGill, as a legal researcher at the McGill International Criminal Justice Clinic and she volunteered off campus as a math tutor in low-income neighbourhoods.

In 2012, she was hired to be a law clerk with the Supreme Court of Canada.

“She had this concern for fairness,” recalls Richard Wagner, now the chief justice, of the woman he calls “one of my best clerks.”

“Every time I would talk to her about any issues, not only the legal issues in our files but other social issues, you could sense that she had this sensitivity. She was sensitive to the human condition and to do the right thing and the fair thing.”

While it was her fascination with the O.J. Simpson trial as an 11-year-old that first gave her the idea that a law career might be an interesting life, it was her work on behalf of the Rikers Island inmates, after that Supreme Court experience, that pushed her to become a criminal defence attorney.

During her work at the massive New York firm Ropes & Gray, she was exposed to one of America’s notorious prison complexes. She catalogued the use-of-force incidents and she was stunned by how coldly the suffering was recounted in the records, even if a prisoner had been beaten so badly he lost an eye or suffered hearing loss. She was also troubled that there were men lingering in jail who hadn’t been convicted.

“It was almost like these aren’t humans,” she says.

Enenajor says their treatment made her despair.

“We pride ourselves as a western civilization as being progressive, and we have humans in chains for having done something that doesn’t warrant it. I thought it was so shameful, I felt I had to so something about it.

“It’s the prison system that turned me on to criminal defence because the stakes are so high.”

Enenajor maintained a busy pro bono practice in New York, which helped develop her skills. She loved the firm but yearned for something more.

“Should I spend the rest of my life making sure this billionaire gets enough millions from this billionaire?”

Enenajor took a “substantial pay cut” to return to Toronto, signing on with what is now Ruby Shiller Enenajor DiGiuseppe. She says both Ruby and Shiller encourage her to speak publicly about legal issues that concern her, particularly when the perspective of a woman or person of colour is missing.

While she’s been spending about 30 per cent of her time on the cannabis file, her day planner is full of the typical cases undertaken by a defence attorney: sex assaults, obstruction of a peace officer, assault with a weapon, living off the avails of prostitution, attempted murder. She anticipates being in court for a murder trial in February.

She concedes that most of her life is consumed by work but she does periodically get away to the Bahamas to attend a holistic yoga retreat. She is hoping to go for an entire month sometime soon.

“I keep saying I’m trying to change that (work/life balance) but it just never happens. I keep saying next month, I’ll work out more and I’ll try to go out more.”

Single, Enenajor lives on the top floor of her family’s home, moving in after she found living alone in a downtown apartment “just horrible mentally.”

Almost each workday, she has lunch at a restaurant with Ruby, akin to having her own personal Yoda.

“I always come with questions about my cases and say, look, this is what I’m dealing with, this is the kind of strategy I want to use. What do you think of this theory of the case? What do you think of this line of reasoning? This case law?

“They are always fantastic ideas I get from him … That’s why I don’t make a big stink about the fact I’ve gained 20 pounds since coming.”

Enenajor struggled with anxiety in law school and early in her career — fighting off doubts that she was good enough — but weekly therapy sessions have helped keep it “very well managed.” So does intense preparation before a court appearance.

“I can’t remember the last time it manifested itself,” she says.

Cannabis, even legal, is not something she’ll use to help with the issue.

“I’m into mindfulness meditation,” she says. “So I try not to take mind-altering substances.”

She has tried CBD, the non-psychoactive cannabis compound that some use for anxiety control and other medical benefits. Enenajor found it had little impact. As for marijuana containing THC, the ingredient that causes a high, she tried it twice and lost interest.

The first was during law school. She’d been surprised as she moved through her post-secondary education at how casual drug use was among students from wealthier backgrounds and how they showed no fear of begin stopped by police, frisked and arrested. It was a different world from her teenage years. Enenajor, a non-smoker, gave it a whirl, had difficulty inhaling and found “it did nothing.”

The second time was a few years ago on a visit to the Bob Marley Museum in Jamaica when the tour guide told her the property was covered by a constitutional exemption.

“I went with the flow. I took a brownie,” she recalls. Like the first time, she noticed no impact.

“So I took another one. An hour later, pfff,” she says, blowing air through her lips. “It was a terrible experience. It was just like the feeling of being very drunk, like being too drunk. You start feeling anxious (with) poor memory, poor co-ordination. Thank goodness I was there with my partner at the time and he was able to take care of me.”

Although she’s not finished with the cannabis file, Enenajor’s extra-curricular work will also focus on both prison reform and trying to improve the criminal justice system, particularly from the perspective of race.

“There’s systematic racism and historical injustices that play into outcomes that we still need to acknowledge,” she says, noting that “a lot of my experience in criminal justice has seen how law amplifies inequalities in many ways and is a disservice to people. It is an impediment to them improving their lot in life and it’s an impediment to them getting the kind of help they need.”

Enenajor feels there is an appetite for change and “a space for someone like myself to make those kinds of arguments and to make them in a compelling way to bring about reform.”

Enenajor recently sat on a panel at a Toronto region judges conference to speak on how to apply social context in the sentencing of African-Canadian offenders.

“One of the factors that a judge should take into consideration in sentencing a person is moral blameworthiness,” she says. “How morally blameworthy is an individual who has their choices limited by life’s circumstances?

“It was very well received. I was happy.”

As for prison reform, federal Public Safety Minister Ralph Goodale recently drafted Bill C-83 that the government says would effectively, eliminate solitary confinement. While it is progress, Enenajor questions why many prisoners are incarcerated at all.

“I think we overuse prisons,” she says. “I would call myself a prison abolitionist because I think that we structure our system as if the logical outcome of every case where there’s a guilty finding is prison. I think it should be structured as a last resort for people who are the most dangerous and need to be separated from society.”

She finds it particularly reprehensible that people with addictions or mental illness end up behind bars.

Enenajor says that while she was growing up, her value and self-worth were constantly reinforced by her parents and her teachers so she understood what she could go on to accomplish in life “had nothing to do with my background or skin colour. It’s all about who I am as a person.”

But she came to understand that some people of colour “are unable to do that because they’ve internalized that hatred that society has, those stereotypes and those doubts that society puts on you.”

That can sometimes lead to low self-esteem and choices that can, in turn, lead to involvement with the criminal system.

She believes all Canadians have an obligation to act when they see the system isn’t working for some.

Enenajor’s rapid ascent to partner — something she notes is easier in a small firm — has strengthened the potential for her to a leader in this belief.

When Enenajor became a partner at Ruby Shiller, she was so thrilled, she took a photo of the masthead with her name on it and sent it to her parents. She couldn’t help herself.

“It’s beyond my wildest dreams that I’m a partner,” she says.

“I’ve gone through incredibly stressful periods and worked with clients whose lives are on the line, and there have been difficult ethical decisions I’ve had to make and horror stories. None of that stress can compare to the stress of having the feeling that I was not doing what I was put on this earth to do. Being able to find that is such an incredible blessing.”

This article originally appeared in the Toronto Star, written by Paul Hunter.

Paul Hunter is a reporter and feature writer based in Toronto. Follow him on Twitter: @hunterhockey