#archive of American television

[tuttle-did-it]

M*A*S*H fans- I've realised that some of you newer fans might have realised that Archive of American TV did dozens of interviews with the M*A*S*H actors, writers, producers, directors, etc.

If you haven't seen some of these, I'd really recommend it, because these are amazing interviews where some of these people tell stories you might not have heard, before from some really brilliant people.

[busterkeatonsociety]

This Day in Buster…June 5, 1958

CBS airs “The Innocent Sleep” for Playhouse 90. In this Archive of American Television interview, director Tad Mosel recalls working with Buster Keaton.

[missholson]

Larry Hagman as J.R. Ewing from the television soap opera Dallas (1978-1991). [X]

[hellowyn-llewellyn]

Just in case the show doesn’t end up airing or they air the censored version Internet Archive has the whole series plus more so you can watch this fall :)

Edit as of 11/12 the link is dead. Sorry :[

[otrtbs]

Btw, they’re censoring the National Archives of the United States. The fucking Archivist of the United States, Colleen Shogan, has been altering photographic exhibits to make them “more palatable” to a wider audience. Alterations which include:

- Removing images of Martin Luther King Jr. and other civil rights leaders and activists and replacing them with images of Richard Nixon and Elvis Presley

- Altering and removing displays featuring the forced relocation of indigenous people in the United States

- Removing Dorothea Lange’s photographs of Japanese internment camps in the United States after WWII for being “too negative and controversial”

- Replacing a patent in the American Inventions exhibit display for birth control with a television patent instead

Several senior-level people have left the National Archives in the wake of Shogan’s directives. And, several employees have stated these changes are happening because Shogan’s advisors have raised concerns that conservative lawmakers could take issue with the materials in the exhibits and begin targeting the National Archives with punitive legislation.

You can read about this censorship in more detail here , here, and here.

[waugh-bao]

I’ve been meaning to get more into old time radio. Do you have any suggestions for good websites I can use to listen? :)

I think the easiest entry point, both in terms of how simple it is to access and the content itself, is the This Day in Jack Benny podcast. It comes out weekly and covers the Benny radio catalogue from the ‘30s-‘50s and every episode is a broadcast from that day or one close to it with a brief introduction on the context of the time the show was recorded and the specific references and jokes in the episode. I believe at this point the person behind it, John Henderson, has covered the entire available Benny catalogue or something close to it.

There is a website called Radio Echoes that has recordings of dozens of different radio programs from the ‘30s-‘50s and there’s a huge variance in the archive for each one. Some have 2-3 episodes preserved, some have hundreds. The Fred Allen show archive there, for example, has 231 episodes. They’ve got the Al Jolson Show, Benny Goodman Swing School, the Bob Hope Show, and so many others, British and American. You can search by the program, the year, or special collections, and it’s possible to listen on the site or download to your phone or computer.

I’m not sure what its status is nowadays, but Archive.org also has quite a bit of early radio content in the audio sections, and some neat videos from early radio stars who went on to have TV shows or guest on them in the video section. Like Jack Benny’s 20th Anniversary Special from 1970.

Hope that helps!

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: Stephanie Rogers isn't happy to be in the 21st century, but she's even less thrilled to be on a team with Antonia Stark who seems as spoiled and self-centered as people come. She and Tony do their best to ignore each other, until their mutual insomnia causes them to bond over the new American pastime: late night television watching. Eventual Steph/Tony.

Author: @andhumanslovedstories

Submitter: @undercovercannibal

Note from submitter: I credit this fic with helping me realize I'm bi <3

[disneytva]

Disney Announces Jam-Packed D23 Fan Event Lineup With Many Animation, Muppets Panels And Screenings

With less than one month to go to the highly anticipated D23: The Ultimate Disney Fan Event presented by Visa, Disney today revealed details about what fans will be able to experience at the Anaheim Convention Center during this sold-out event, which will include an outstanding lineup of over 230 panels and presentations, show floor offerings and Talent Central interactions. This announcement builds upon plans previously shared about this year’s D23 gathering, which is set to be bigger and better than ever before.

Animation on Stage at D23

30 Years of Toy Story Celebrate 30 Years of Toy Story with filmmakers and Pixar Legends as they reflect on the making of the groundbreaking classic nearly 30 years ago and share never-before-heard anecdotes about how the historic film came to be. Exploring New Parts of the Mind: Behind the Design of Inside Out 2 + a Dreamy Surprise! Join Inside Out 2 production designer Jason Deamer as he gives an in-depth look at designing the new emotions joining Headquarters as Riley enters teenagehood. And stick around for a special dreamy sneak peek of an upcoming Pixar series! Marvel Animation Sneak Peek See what’s coming next to Disney+ from Marvel Animation, with special guests and first looks at hotly anticipated series including Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, Eyes of Wakanda, future seasons of What If…?, X-Men ’97, and more! The Animation Greats + Cast and Creator Sessions featuring Bob’s Burgers, Futurama and The Simpsons Presented by Hulu Animayhem & 20th Television Animation Four of the most influential creators in the world of animation — Matt Groening (The Simpsons, Futurama), Seth MacFarlane (Family Guy, American Dad!), Mike Judge (King of the Hill) and Loren Bouchard (Bob’s Burgers, The Great North) — come together for a historic and extraordinary conversation you won’t want to miss. Then, the voice talent and creative teams behind Bob’s Burgers, Futurama, and The Simpsons take the stage to entertain with clips, conversation, and fan Q&A. Whether you’re a longtime fan or an aspiring animator, this is a must-see panel for all! Behind the Summer Shenanigans with the Phineas and Ferb Creators Join Dan Povenmire and Jeff “Swampy” Marsh, the masterminds behind the beloved animated show Phineas and Ferb as they look back at the creation and legacy of this pop culture phenomenon. Hear behind-the-scenes stories and get ready to laugh! Making A Goofy Movie: The Road to Lake Destiny The creatives behind the A Goofy Movie phenomenon reunite, reminisce, and share clips from a new documentary about the incredible origin story of this beloved cult classic. Stay Tuned: You’re Watching Disney Channel Join beloved Disney Channel stars on the Walt Disney Archives Stage for a look at some of the iconic series and movies that have created generations of fans. Stay tuned for laughs, fun and moments you won’t want to miss! Big City Greens the Movie: Spacecation Screening Blast off for a hilarious outer-space adventure with a screening of the animated comedy Big City Greens the Movie: Spacecation, introduced by the talented creative team, including creators and executive producers Chris and Shane Houghton. Restoring Disney Animation Classics Director of Restoration Kevin Schaeffer and Disney Animation artists Eric Goldberg and Michael Giaimo will delve into the history of Disney’s preservation program, showcase before-and-after clips, and share how classic films are brought back to life. The Muppets 70: A Glamorous Miss Piggy Retrospective Join Walt Disney Archives Director Becky Cline and The Muppets Producer Dani Iglesias for a fabulous look back on the past 70 years of the Muppets, but mostly Miss Piggy! We will dive into the vaults to uncover nostalgic artifacts along with how we preserve this collection today! Disney Epic Mickey: Rebrushed – The Return of a Beloved Classic Wield the paintbrush once more in Disney Epic Mickey: Rebrushed out this fall! Join Disney Games, Epic Mickey Creative Director Warren Spector, and more special guests, for a conversation that delves into how this beloved classic adventure came to life.

[coconutcows]

Hey, since I’ve seen more people on my dash talking about The Muppets in general lately, here’s some links to older muppet media I’ve had trouble looking for in the past and even though they don’t seem as hard to find now, a lot of people might not have heard about them if they aren’t into muppets, so if you’re interested or want to watch something different or just kill some time here ya go

(All or most of these are uploaded by the same user and while their account has tons of muppet media it’s a little scattered so I wanted to put these specific ones together for ease)

Here’s Hey Cinderella!, a muppet production of Cinderella. I love the stepsisters and this has one of the few muppet monsters that have ever made me feel uneasy

Here’s the Muppets Musicians of Bremen, which features no human actors,

Here’s The Frog Prince, featuring the first appearances of dear Robin and Sweetums

Here’s The Great Santa Claus Switch, this upload has multiple sections of video because it contains everything featured in the dvd, the third one is the start of the movie itself

Here’s the lovely, heartwarming Emmet Otters Jugband Christmas

And here’s the two original pilots, The Muppets Valentines Show plays first and is then followed by The Muppets: Sex and Violence. They stick a little bit they’ll play through just fine.

I hope people enjoy and if there’s any interest I’d be more than happy to make another group post with links to other older muppet specials, just let me know!!! I watched all these and others while I was pretty sick last week

[paybackraid]

Angels in Flight

Summary: Angela Foley has known Danny for years by the time the explosion at the Nasty Burger took their families. So there was no way that she was going to sit back and let him, newly orphaned, grieve in his big empty home all alone.

Rating: G

Word: 4,232

Trigger warnings: possible warning for unspecified eating disorder due to grief.

---------

After days and days of casserole dinners and teary condolences, after the funeral was gone and past, after the Nasty Burger corporation promised to pay for the funeral, the memorial, everything, only then was Angela Foley able to remove herself from her dead child’s bedroom for any longer than an hour.

It was hard. She felt like she shouldn’t do it. Angela wanted to stay here, curled around her baby’s pillow, forever. She pretended it was him, even if Tucker had declared cuddles “too girly” when he was ten. 

If she had known, Angela would have demanded a cuddle that morning. Of course, if she had known, she would never have allowed Tucker to go in the first place. Tucker was exceptionally good at sneaking out, which drove Angela and Maurice bonkers, but she supposed that was moot now.

She first extracted herself to the kitchen. Maurice was in the living room, flipping listlessly through television channels like he sought something but couldn’t remember what. They met eyes briefly, but then Maurice looked back to the tv and the endless flipping channels. 

“I need to take a walk,” Angela suddenly said, eyeing the fridge with dismay. She didn’t have the energy to cook or even reheat anything. She wasn’t even hungry.

She didn’t remember eating today, but that was a whole other thing.

“Be safe,” Maurice answered.

Angela hummed and grabbed her coat. It wasn’t particularly cold, but the coat had a deep hood she could flip up. She didn’t want to be recognized, she didn’t want her neighbors coming up to her and reminding her that her only baby was dead.

Angela left the house. She liked walks in the past. When Tucker was younger, he’d accompany her. In fact, when Tucker had playdates with the Fentons, Angela would just walk him over. She’d chat with Jack and Maddie, Tucker and Danny would play, and Tucker would happily talk all the way home about how his friend was “the only fun girl in class”. That didn’t end up being entirely true, but they hadn’t known then.

Angela’s line of thought brought her to a place she hadn’t anticipated. 

Despite the now deceased family, FentonWorks still stood loud and proud. Its neon lights lit up the sky. The metal deck on top reached for the moon. There were two flags on flagpoles by the front door—the good old American flag (Jack bled red white and blue), and a pink, blue, and white one that Angela didn’t quite recognize. She thought she may have seen it in Tucker’s room before, too, though significantly smaller.

The inner house was dark. All except a light on the second floor. A bedroom.

A boy stood in it, watching the sky. Angela’s heart clenched immediately, painfully. The family was deceased, except one. The house was dark, except for one room.

The Fentons were dead, but Danny still lived. 

Angela considered going to the door. She had known Danny since he was a little girl in diapers. Danny and Tucker had been in the same preschool class, and they’d stuck together like glue. Angela had watched Danny grow almost as much as she’d watched Tucker, the two of them practically inseparable. They’d had arguments, of course—all friends did—but at the end of every day, Tucker and Danny had come away from it better and better friends.

And Angela had nearly forgotten him. Freshly orphaned, Danny stood in his huge empty home all alone. 

Angela’s fist hovered at the door, her heart aching with a new grief. Angela’s life was a disaster, since her son’s passing, but this… this was control. Control she needed.

She missed momming someone. Maybe she could step in and be a surrogate for a boy who surely missed sonning someone nearly as much.

…Maybe Maurice could stand to dad someone, too. Maybe it’d be good for him.

Angela turned around, hovered on the doorstep. What if something bad happened in the short time she was gone…? She glanced up. Danny still stood in his window, watching the sky. Angela swallowed. She would have to be quick. Luckily, they weren’t far.

Angela breached her front door. Maurice was still flicking through channels, but he no longer watched the television. His face was in his hand. He was deeply in mourning. 

He looked at her through wet, stricken eyes. “Ange…?” he said when he noticed the look in her eye. 

“Get up,” Angela said, flicking off the kitchen lights. “Get shoes on.”

“What are…?” Maurice started, but didn’t finish. He eventually forced himself to his feet and pressed a tissue into his eyes. At his wife’s prompt, though, Maurice did go to the shoe rack by the door and slip into loafers. “Where are we going?”

Angela collected her purse, her keys, and her husband. Once all three were settled in the car, she started the engine and drove back towards FentonWorks.

“Ange,” Maurice said, firmly this time. Concern was fresh in his voice. 

“…Someone else needs our help,” Angela said quietly, thinking of a lost orphan boy, stuck home alone. 

Maurice made to ask questions, but when FentonWorks came into sight, he didn’t need to. Guilt was thick in his voice even when he gave just one syllable, “…oh.”

Maurice had known Danny nearly as long as Angela had. Angela did most of the pick up their first year, but when Angela finally really went back to work, Maurice had to pick up Tucker more, and so met the little then-girl who had trailed after Tucker like a lost sheep. Tucker had once insisted, so Maurice sat and waited a full forty-five minutes after pick up time for Jack to show up with a redheaded daughter in tow. Maurice had been unimpressed then, but he’d softened over the years. 

They really should have thought of Danny sooner than this. No one would judge them for it, in the wake of their son’s death, but Angela and Maurice had known Danny for far too long for him to just slip their mind.

“Is he still here?” Maurice asked, climbing out. 

“I saw him,” Angela hummed, locking the car. Her eyes flickered up. The bedroom light was still on, but no teenaged orphan stood in the window.

“Is he here alone?”

Angela gulped. She didn’t know who else would be here with him. “As far as I know.”

Maurice clicked his tongue, a sign of clear displeasure. Had everyone failed this boy? Had no one stepped up and put him into the system? It would suck—Maurice at least was intimately familiar—but he wouldn’t be alone.

“I know,” Angela agreed. She rang the doorbell and stepped back to wait.

It took a few minutes, not that Angela or Maurice would judge him. They’d stopped answering their door, too. They didn’t need the reminder. Eventually, though, there was metallic clunking, and the door pulled open inward just enough that Danny’s tired, tired face peered through the gap. 

He looked bad. He had hit rock bottom, after all. Fourteen years old, and nowhere left to go. 

“Hi, sweetie,” Angela said. She tried for a smile, but it wobbled and fell. She’d seen him at the funeral, of course, standing in front of a graying man in his late forties if Angela had to guess. But she hadn’t seen Danny at all, neither hide nor hair, since then. She wondered if he was being taken care of. 

Judging by the paleness in his skin, the limp in his hair, the nothingness in his eyes, he really wasn’t. 

“Danny,” Maurice greeted, equally as grimly. 

“...Hi,” Danny said, shrinking in on himself. A boy as small as Danny could hardly shrink further, but he sure seemed bound and determined. 

“We came by to make sure you were doing alright,” Angela said carefully. Doing alright seemed to be doing a lot of work there. How could he be doing alright? They had wanted to make sure he wasn’t dead. 

“...I’m… here,” Danny said, even quieter. 

Maurice clicked his tongue, and Angela could practically see his chest collapsing in on itself with how hard his heart must have clenched. She could relate. Danny wasn’t particularly forward with things, and never had been, but this was something else. Danny being here was not, in the slightest, reassuring. 

“Can we come in?” Angela asked. She glanced at the empty space above Danny’s head, where a once tall and proud Jack may have stood. As far as Angela could tell, everything looked in order, but she was only seeing through the crack of the door above the boy’s head. 

Danny seemed to consider her. He really did look tired. Probably about as tired as Maurice and Angela were, and Jeremy and Pamela too. 

Danny stepped back and held the door open. 

Much to Angela’s surprise, the house was almost eerily in order. There was a blanket tucked back into the couch just perfectly, there was a sheen on the wooden coffee table that suggested it was freshly Pledge’d, there wasn’t a crumb in sight. A glance into the kitchen found no evidence of life or dishes or anything. It was almost too clean. Danny hadn’t been an incredibly neat boy prior, and likely no one had hired a cleaning service, so how…?

“I can’t stop cleaning,” Danny mumbled in answer to a question she hadn’t asked. He put a hand in his hair as his father may have done. “I keep thinking that… man, when Mom gets back, she’s not gonna like this mess.” He choked on a breath and averted his eyes. “But then she… she doesn’t come back, and I… I… I don’t know what else to do.”

Control, Angela thought. Her control was working her helping reflex. Danny’s control was making sure the house was presentable for when his family returned. 

“Oh, honey,” was all Angela said, because she didn’t know how to respond. She opened her arms to him just briefly. Danny didn’t move forward, but he didn’t back away either, and Angela took that as permission. 

She squeezed him, so tight, imagining the way that Tucker would fit perfectly in her arms. Tucker had a little height on Danny, belying the height he would have grown into inherited from his grandfather, Angela’s father. Still, Danny did fit so perfectly. Danny really was one of the family, anyway. 

Danny didn’t quite hug her back, although she did feel small hands curl in fists in her coat. He breathed against her shoulder, great shuddering breaths that were neither as calm nor as collected as the house suggested. Angela thought again—he was fourteen years old. Fourteen, and grieving everyone, family and friends, living in a horribly empty house. 

She curled around him and buried her face in his hair. It was the wrong shade and wrong texture of black, but it was close enough. It was what she had. He wasn’t Tucker, but in that moment he didn’t have to be. He was here, filling her arms, taking up a space that had been sorely empty for two entire weeks. 

“Mrs. Foley?” Danny asked after a long, shuddering moment. She’d insisted on Aunt Angela, or at least Angela in the past, but he’d been raised different than that, and that was fine. 

She pressed a kiss into his hair anyway. “Yeah, baby?”

“I tried.”

She thought. Of burnt hands and burnt cheeks. Of a boy found near unconscious in the rubble. She didn’t know how, but almost certainly he had tried. To save them, to reach them. Anything he could. She thought of the little girl standing between Tucker and a blond-haired boy, glaring him down. She thought of a young man with a bloody nose, a black eye, and two grinning best friends on either side safe from harm. She thought of Tucker, distracted, walking into a street and Danny, alert, yanking Tucker away from a speeding car by the back of his shirt.

There was no doubt at all. That boy had tried.

“I really,” Danny hiccupped a breath, tucking his face against her. Angela squeezed him tighter. “Really did.”

“I know you did, sweetie,” Angela said quickly, reassuring. Angela didn’t even know, realistically, what he could have done. What he could have tried. She didn’t doubt, at all, that he had. Danny had always, in the past, found a way. “I know you did.”

“Why couldn’t I get there…?” Danny asked, although he didn’t seem to be asking her, instead letting the question drift into the ether, unanswerable. “Why doesn’t anything ever work—“

Even if it had been directed at her, Angela wouldn’t even know what to say.

“Come,” Angela said instead, tugging him around. “Come sit with Auntie.”

They collapsed together into the couch. Angela wrapped her arms tighter around him and tucked him against her, like she had with Tucker in increasing frequency. Tucker had always refused to explain his nightmares or whatever rocked him, and Angela had felt him pulling away more and more from her, but she didn’t press and she didn’t fret. He was a teenager, living in a town wracked by seemingly endless ghost attacks. Even with a hero-adjacent like Phantom around, Angela had seen her increasing share of traumatized children in her office. It was no surprise that Tucker dealt with trauma and pulled away, especially at the ghost hotspot that was Casper High.

“I’m glad,” Angela said quietly, burying yet another kiss in his hair. She’d never been particularly intimate with Danny, even for as long as she’d known and cared for him, but they’d never been in this situation before. He’d always just been the best friend of her son. Now he was the orphan of family friends with no one to turn to. “I am, I’m glad that you couldn’t get there, baby. You wouldn’t have been able to do anything. And what if it had been you, too? What if you were caught in the blast, too? It’s… it hurts, oh baby of course it does, but there are small mercies. I’m just relieved you were far enough from the blast that you weren’t hurt.” His hands and cheeks were still scabbed with pocked burn marks, even two weeks later, and there were some on his arms too that looked like buried debris. He had been so close. He could have been hurt so much more.

Danny didn’t respond to that. A breath hiccupped against her shoulder. She tilted her cheek against him.

“I think…” she said after a long beat. “The only one who could have done anything for them was Phantom. And I think… I think it tried. I like to believe it tried.” Or, would have. No one had seen hide nor hair of Phantom in the two weeks since the explosion. Angela believed, at least to herself, that it had tried to get to them. Maybe it had been injured in the blast. There had been no glowing puddle of green ectoplasm, as far as Angela knew, but would there be if it was completely discorporated?

Angela didn’t always know where to stand with Phantom. Some of her clients looked at it with stars in their eyes, others with fire. Property destruction was rampant wherever it was, but lives were saved. And besides, Tucker had always vehemently supported Phantom, throwing his weight behind it and insisting that it wasn’t just some hero-adjacent, it was a Hero full stop. And that had done plenty to sway Angela in the past.

It was just that… well, why couldn’t it get to her baby and the others? Where had it been? Had it not known? Maybe that was why Angela believed that it was injured, that it tried. Because that was better than assuming it had sat back and watched.

Much to Angela’s surprise, at her mention of Phantom, Danny choked hard and stared at her with massive blue eyes. Despite being around ghosts all his life, Angela knew Danny was terrified of them; it was something Tucker used to poke fun at him for, although that had stopped not long after Danny’s accident. It probably couldn’t help, too, that Jack and Maddie had disparaged Phantom with every possible breath. Was Danny scared of Phantom specifically, or…?

Tears flooded his eyes quickly. A trigger of some sort, and Danny choked again and his face pinched and he leaned down against her and let out the most horrible, most painful sob Angela had ever heard. Angela’s heart clenched, and her hand disappeared in his hair.

“He tried!” Danny gasped loudly, begging and weeping. “H-he tried, he tried s-so hard Mrs. Foley he tried he tried.” 

Danny had been there—had been the only one other one there—so he must have seen. Seen Phantom limp off afterward, defeated by the blast? Seen him discorporate before his very eyes? She couldn’t know, but he insisted so hard, and he was the only one who would know.

“I believe you,” Angela said softly, rocking his finally weeping frame. “I believe you, baby. Phantom tried, and isn’t that so good? That it… th-that he tried, for them?”

“He should have tried harder,” Danny spat wetly, accusingly, antithetical to what he had begged previously. Phantom had tried so hard, possibly discorporated, but he should have tried harder? “If he wasn’t so slow and stupid and useless—“

“Danny honey, calm down,” Angela hushed. It was the exact sort of language that would make exactly zero teenagers calm down, and Angela knew that and knew better. She rubbed his back to circumvent a tantrum—although really it was unfair to call it that—and tucked him back beneath her chin. Phantom had tried, and to Angela… well, it hurt that he hadn’t succeeded, but Phantom believing that her child, his friend, and his friend’s family were important enough meant something. The ache was there, but it was… lessened, somehow. “He tried, and that’s what matters.”

“H-he should have tried harder…” Danny wept. Angela sighed and bundled him tighter beneath her. Maybe, though, it was scary to think about Phantom trying but still utterly failing. When your larger-than-life, super-powered ghost hero couldn’t even save the people you cared about, maybe that was scary. To know that they were doomed from the start… Angela cut that line of thought off entirely. “Why didn’t it work why didn’t he try why didn’t I try harder… I tried… oh god, I tried...”

The switch from ‘he’ to ‘I’ startled Angela, who was still trying to catch up with Danny’s thought process as he stumbled into pleas for forgiveness. He wept apologies, kept using ‘I’ statements, claimed that it was his fault as if Danny at fourteen could cause an explosion like that in any way. Angela couldn’t keep up, so she held him tighter and let him babble out what must be the first time being supported through a breakdown, probably since the funeral. 

Angela had no answer for him. Rather, she buried kisses in his silky black hair, wrapped him up tight, and held him through it. 

When Danny’s desperate weeping and begging for forgiveness finally slowed down, Maurice came around the couch and sat on the coffee table in front of them. Maurice was a social worker and had a social worker’s active mindset, so Angela wasn’t that surprised that he hadn’t joined her in comforting Danny. He’d likely been poking around, making sure FentonWorks was safe and healthy for an admittedly miserable teenager.

“Danny,” Maurice said carefully, leaning forward. “I need you to be honest with me. Are you eating?”

Danny cracked open an eye and lifted his head from Angela’s shoulder. He was suspiciously silent. Angela, unfortunately, wasn’t surprised. Neither she nor Maurice had been eating much, either.

It’s just, it was different when it was Danny. Because he was only fourteen, because Angela loved him nearly as much as she loved Tucker. Because Angela and Maurice were both helpers, and helping rarely went to themselves, just extended beyond. 

“Danny, what are you eating?” Maurice pressed. When Danny continued not answering, Maurice continued, “because I saw what’s in that kitchen, Danny, and none of it’s edible anymore. What are you eating?”

Danny’s fingers twirled in Angela’s shirt, but there was still no answer. That was answer enough.

Maurice doesn’t press any further about that. He was a smart man, and he worked with teenagers at least sometimes. When a teenager didn’t want to answer, he simply wouldn’t. “Okay,” Maurice said. “Is someone staying with you, Danny? Or are you here alone?”

Danny still didn’t answer. He tucked back against Angela. Angela kissed him again.

“Danny, who is staying with you? Someone is, right?” 

There was a tense moment. Then Danny breathed out something freezing cold, and he nodded. Angela sagged with relief.

“I’m so happy to hear that you’re not alone, Danny,” Maurice said. The words would sound fake and rehearsed from any other man, but Maurice was exceptional at putting real emotions behind them. Maurice really was happy to hear it, and not just because he was familiar with Danny. “Who has been staying with you?”

Danny sniffed. He finally picked his head up and backed out of Angela’s arms, wiping at his face. His cheeks were red and chapped. There was a travel tube of facial moisturizer in her purse, but she didn’t dig it out yet. “My… aunt,” Danny finally said, grimacing. “Was here for a few days. She couldn’t stay long. She lives alone, and she had her animals to take care of, and she couldn’t afford me anyway, and…”

Angela honestly couldn’t imagine being able to up and leave this poor thing, but what did she know?

“Who’s staying with you now?” Maurice insisted. 

“My godfather has been, mostly. Vlad Masters. He’s been… out. Grieving, I think. I dunno. He comes back… stinking, though.”

“So no one’s here for you when it counts,” Angela concluded easily. She’d heard the name Vlad Masters from Tucker more than once, mostly through frustrated rants. Tucker was endlessly unimpressed with Vlad Masters. Between Tucker’s rants and this display of negligence, Angela was rather unimpressed, too.

“He’s here,” Danny corrected, although it lacked conviction. “He’s… just, he’s grieving.”

“So are you,” Maurice said. He looked at Angela, who looked back at him. The conviction lacking in Danny’s voice was present in their gaze. “Why don’t you go pack a bag.”

“…What?” Danny wondered.

“This place isn't suitable for you,” Angela agreed. “Pack a bag and you’ll come home with us. We have so many casseroles we’ll never be able to get through them. Help us clear them out.”

“I can’t—“

“Let Auntie Angela and Uncle Maurice take care of you, baby,” Angela insisted. “You need it. You deserve it.”

Danny looked between them. He shifted weight from one side of his body to the other. Then, debating. “…Vlad will wonder where I am,” Danny admitted so quietly.

“That’s alright,” Angela assured. “We’ll leave a note for him, with our name, address, and phone number so he can find you. But you need to not be here. You need to be with people who will love you.”

Danny looked at his lap. Adjusted his binder. Picked at his shirt. Finally mumbled, “I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not. We’re insisting.”

It took a few extra long beats before Danny finally stood, mumbled something, and went upstairs. Angela sighed and slumped against the back of the couch, touching the spot on her shoulder where Danny had bawled. She didn’t know what about Phantom had set Danny off so badly, but that was Danny’s business to share if he so chose, and not Angela’s to press about. 

Maurice nodded his head toward the kitchen and showed her what things he’d found. The kitchen was as spotless as the rest of the house, furiously cleaned in a bid for control, but the fridge was mold spore central aside from the few things that actually moved. There were several hot dogs in there, and they were all growling. This sort of mold and decay wasn’t just from two weeks untouched. Had Danny eaten everything edible, or had Jack and Maddie been back to neglecting parenting again? Angela loved Jack and Maddie, really she did, but there was a reason she invited Danny and even Jazz to their house for suppers so frequently. 

She sighed. Her heart ached. 

Danny came back down with a small purple duffle in hand and his pillow tucked beneath his arm. In the meantime, Angela wrote a note for Vlad and left it someplace prominent: Danny with us. Family friends. And accompanied it with their address and her cell phone number. 

Angela and Maurice escorted him out of the house and into their warm car, only pausing to let Danny type his code into the panel and lock the place up tight. Danny looked up at the place, his old house, like he would never see it again. Maybe that was okay. He would stay, safe and warm at the Foleys. He wasn’t Angela’s baby, but he was close. Maybe it would be enough for her. Maybe, one day, it would even be enough for him. He could grieve his old life, but turn back to the new one, with Maurice and Angela supporting him as he needed, as he deserved. 

If only. 

[adventures-in-mangaland]

I've been seeing posts about Scooby Doo popping up, so I thought I'd share this:

(Source: The Scots Magazine, Feb 2023) Full text below.

This actually happened. I am obsessed!

The passion! The energy!

Amazing!

Such signage!

(Images: Daily Record)

A brilliant effort all round! The children of Scotland saved a pop culture powerhouse the world would be poorer without. I can't believe this. I love this so much.

Text of the article:

FROM THE VAULT

Strange tales from the archives. This month – How furious fans of cancelled cartoon rose up in protest.

By CHRIS Ferguson, Jan 12, 2023 (The Scots Magazine)

THROUGHOUT the ages, principled protest has been a hallmark of youth – a rite of passage for many. Today it is Greta Thunberg and her army of teen climate activists, or Extinction Rebellion protesters, who make headlines.

In the 1960s it was the Vietnam War objectors and Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament believers who set out their political agendas.

In later decades young people swelled the ranks of those demanding an end to apartheid in South Africa.

They were at the barricades as then-pm Margaret Thatcher introduced the poll tax and back out again to try to stop the 2003 invasion of Iraq.

Another generation, too, had the courage of its convictions. In 1971, youngsters rose in anger at a threat to remove cowardly canine Scooby-doo from their television screens.

This was in February after the cartoon had been running for two years. Although the decision not to commission another series had been taken in the US, the BBC was the target of fans’ fury because it had to pass on the bad news to young viewers.

Within days of the announcement, an army of parka-wearing children sporting knitted jumpers and questionable hairstyles was formed.

Across Scotland children grouped together with placards, just like so many other worthy protesters before them. In Glasgow, the massed kids marched on the BBC Scotland headquarters and, in Dundee, they gathered in outrage in City Square.

Petitions were raised and demonstrations took place across the country and, by April, the BBC announced a further series had been commissioned in the US.

Legend has it these Scots Scooby fans had persuaded the American television executives to reconsider.

Hanna-barbera, the animation company behind Scooby-doo, never forgot the Scottish reaction.

A spokesman for the company said, “We’d never had a response like that before, it was very exciting.”

[Beneath the main text of the article is an illustration of Scooby Doo and the gang accompanied by the pull quote: “An army of parka-wearing children was formed”

The title and byline of the article are also accompanied by a black and white photo of a boy in school uniform sitting with a little black dog in his lap, grinning and holding a sign reading "We've saved Scooby Doo" with an illustration of Scooby. The caption reads: Jimmy Brown fought to save the cartoon."]

[fanhackers]

Abigail De Kosnik’s  Illegitimate Media, Part I

You might know Abigail De Kosnik, Associate Professor in the Berkeley Center for New Media (BCNM) and the Department of Theater, Dance, and Performance Studies (TDPS), as the author of  Rogue Archives: Digital Cultural Memory and Media Fandom (MIT 2016), which is about a lot of things including the founding of the OTW and the Archive of Our Own.  But I’m also a fan of her Ph.D. dissertation. Illegitimate Media: Race, Gender, and Censorship in Digital Remix Culture, which I cite a lot and which make arguments that, as far as I know,  have never been made quite the same way anywhere else. 

In particular, De Kosnik (here writing as Abigail Derecho) made connections between the remix cultures of African-American men “who, in the mid-1980s, began using digital samplers to cobble together pieces (or “samples”) of existing recordings to form new sonic composition,” and white American women, “who, in the early 1990s, formed online communities on Usenet groups to share fan fiction (fanfic) – stories based on their favorite characters from television and film texts.” The dissertation examines a wide array of sampling/remix/transformative practices not just in fandom but in music and the visual arts. But I find the connections De Kosnik makes with hip–hop most interesting and provoking:

What is remix? The historical answer is: Remix is a genre of artistic appropriation that began in the boroughs of New York in the late 1970s. The identity of its inventor is undisputed. Every reliable source names DJ Kool Herc, who immigrated to the Bronx from Jamaica as a child, as the person who first spun two copies of the same record on side-by-side turntables in order to extend the “break,” or “breakbeat,” usually defined as an instrumental part of a dance song or pop song, the part where the rhythm dominates, what S. Craig Watkins calls “the get down part,”  and what Grandmaster Flash calls “the best part of a great record.” In order to lengthen the rhythmic “best part” of songs, the part that made partygoers “get down,” Kool Herc spun two identical records on turntables at the same time, first throwing the needle down at the beginning of the breakbeat on one record and lifting the needle when the breakbeat finished, then immediately throwing needle down at the start of the breakbeat on the second record, and at the end of that break, playing the break again on the first record. Alternating between the records, Herc could, in theory, extend the break forever. Many DJs soon took up Herc’s method of spinning records to isolate and extend the breaks, and also adopted Herc’s method of speaking rhymes over the breaks. Several DJs became famous for the techniques of spinning and “rapping” that they invented; Flash and Grand Wizzard Theodore are the most revered of these. (21)

There’s a connection between remixing music to lengthen “the best part” of songs, and vidder Sandy Herrold grinning and declaring that, “Vidding is the good parts version: it’s the three minutes I want to see set to really good music.” (See below, “What is Vidding?” [2008])  Fanfiction also gives us “the best parts” of canon - or the parts we really really wanted and didn’t get.  

–Francesca Coppa, Fanhackers volunteer

[thislovintime]

In New York City, July 6, 1967; footage via NBC News Archives.

“[Peter] gets frightened by mass adulation and likes to be a private person.” - Davy Jones, Flip, September 1967 “Yeah, that [being mobbed by fans, and sudden fame in general] was a little difficult. I didn’t get it then — what it was all about and why things went the way they did. I get it now. It took me a long time to put it into some kind of order that I could deal with. I basically figure now that American kids — well, Euro-American kids — of all stripes were severely repressed. I mean, all cultures repress their people to some extent, and I think ours does just as good a job as any. [laughs] Particularly in the ‘60s, they were so severely repressed because those were the children of people who grew up in the ‘40s; it was World War II, post-war peace and prosperity.These are the people who raised these kids, and they expected: ‘We did right in the world, so we can tell you what to do.’And nobody as paying any attention to the kids. The post-war head mindset was losing its steam, but nobody noticed. That’s why they went into Vietnam; they thought they were fighting another war to end all was. But it really was just some people saying, 'Well, it’s our turn to fight. We wanna fight a war. We wanna lead a war.’ It was just the next half-generation screwing up. So along come these freedom-looking kids (The Monkees) on this television thing, whose idea was to project freedom and fascination and danger and adventure and fun and music.It was enough to make you just lose your little heart. So these kids who screamed at us — basically it was out of their repression toward their dream of freedom, which we stood for. They didn’t know it at the time. We didn’t know this at the time. Nobody knew this. It was way beyond any information. But this is what happened, I think. All I knew was that they were screaming and wouldn’t shut up and I was playing music, and I thought I was a hot musician!” - Peter Tork, Asbury Park Press, July 9, 1999 (x)

[satcskinny]

I want to start a little article archive analysis on some dieting trends I have seen. Today we look at:

Secrets of french girls - article archive 2006

There are a few differences between French women and North American women, but it's nothing you can't adapt to your own life. By taking a few tips from the French, you will slim down, and it will seem more like heaven in the process than hell.

If you want to eat (and look) like a French woman, you can forget about low carb and low fat. French women basically eat anything they want, but they steer clear from one truly bad food group - anything deep fried or processed. They also drink a lot of water with and between meals, which helps you feel full longer, and flushes toxins out of your body which will reduce a bloated look.

A basic diet of a French woman focuses around three main meals each day. French women don't snack much, but when they do eat, they always eat well. Breakfast will consist of fruit with either full fat yogurt or a croissant and a latte. Lunch will be some meat with a vegetable or salad (don't forget the cheese and croutons!) along with a small cup of strong coffee and a glass of wine to compliment what you are eating. Dinner will be something like cheese, bread, meat and a vegetable, often followed by dessert and of course, wine.

It may seem strange that someone could eat all these foods and still manage to stay slim, but the real secret is that French women listen to their bodies when they feel full. A croissant or muffin in America is about twice the size of one in France. The three course meals they love to cook and dine on might seem more like a bunch of little side dishes to an American.

They also never drink to an excess, they think of alcohol as a compliment for food. They always eat slowly and never eat in front of the T.V. or while reading, because they insist that this will make you overeat.

French women like to walk everywhere they go. They prefer to walk from store to store picking up nice food for dinner. They also don't tend to watch a lot of television. They might go for a walk or swim after dinner instead.

Another great slimming tip from French women is they love to make love. So after having a nice dinner of bread (a tiny bit), filet mignon (about the size of your palm) and red wine (only a glass or two!), have a roll in the hay with your lover instead of watching the next episode of Sex and the City. You'll burn calories, rekindle the romance and resist the temptation of snacking while sitting around being bored.

This way of eating is not the traditional way an American thinks of a diet.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 5/14/2024

googled "sample bon mot" in a fit of desperation, considered asking chatgpt to generate me some for 0.2 seconds before the visceral BLEUGH reaction plus remembered that every query is like pouring a 16oz water bottle out on the ground, and figured this series of events would be a better intro than anything else i could come up with

listening

miya folick's Pet Body was off last week's spotify rec playlist. i had liked some individual songs by miya folick (singer/songwriter/alt/indie/dance/electronica) but now i gotta really dive into her discography-- this particular very peppy and upbeat song with dire lyrics is really clicking with me lately as my body overreacts to texas pollen and engages in other known misbehaviors.

the chorus, my god

Proper care and feeding for my pet body

and this verse

I'm just a brain with a pet body Out for a walk until I croak I'm just an ordinary subject In an ordinary book

as my mother used to say, i'm real fuckin sick and tired of being sick and tired!!!

-

reading

ough i need to vacuum. i picked up Mrs Vargas and the Dead Naturalist by Kathleen Alcalá for a dollar last summer bc 0) killer title 1) it was a dollar 2) cool cover 3) autographed 4) endorsed by le guin.

kind of fascinating as an object: weird little lesbian (?) boutique press that's still around, idk ive ever seen a notice about steps they took to ensure the longevity of the physical book before?

i find myself bouncing off latin and south american magical realism a lot bc i am not in those authors’ intended audiences/i do not have the background to fully appreciate them. i have a bachelors of science. and that’s fine bc that’s the point! this is one of the very few times post-college where i caught myself thinking “man i gotta find a class to take about this”.

even if i do not understand the wider cultural context or the real-life figures she obliquely references in many of these short stories (i am convinced the bird-voiced singer is based on a real singer), i do appreciate alcalá’s craft: true short stories, she makes her point and then ends it. the twist in Reading the Road specifically— woof that’s gonna stick with me for a bit. a perfect little o henry twist of the knife. i wanted so badly to link this specific short story but apparently nobody has used it to teach anything and the book itself is not widely available/on the internet archive/etc. u will have to find this story of a roadside fortune teller (who is current on all her business permits) and one day's fortune telling, by yourself perhaps through your library

-

watching

the prisoner, the seventeen episode british sixties tv cult classic. let's yoink the description from wikipedia.

The Prisoner is a British television series created by Patrick McGoohan, with possible contributions from George Markstein.[2] McGoohan portrays Number Six, an unnamed British intelligence agent who is abducted and imprisoned in a mysterious coastal village after resigning from his position.[3] The allegorical plotlines of the series contain elements of science fiction, psychological drama, and spy fiction.

number six shares a lot of traits with my cat philip marlowe, as they are both hell fucking bent on escaping and all attempts to restrain them just sort of train them to be better at the next attempt? as one might expect from a heavily allegorical sixties show, kind of heavy emotional going so im watching an episode every day or two.

why am i watching this? it's free on my library streaming service (and tubi), and i don't have a lot going on. i love one-season cancelled shows, i love Dad Media, unfortunately i was a navy brat and i do love some cloak and dagger shit. i LOOOOVE a fucked up little town and bureaucracy-as-cudgel. i actually came across this when i wishlisted the game We Happy Few back in 2018, another entry in the "creepy little british towns" genre. have yet to play it

-

playing

the cosmology and general backstory of genshin is convoluted as hell (The Gods are real and live in the sky, but some lowercase-g gods are also rulers of the seven nations in-game) but they have been foreshadowing a grand showdown since the very beginning of the game. one player character cannot de- or re-stablize so many regions and engage in so many power struggles without someone taking notice.

i did NOT, however, expect one of the regional god-rulers (purple) to start planning for this divine war in a side cutscene in a seasonal event. a seasonal event around rock n roll rhythm games. absolutely devastated i missed the pink fox lady's rerun right after i had to give my work laptop back and before i got the PC fixed. this game will not run on my iphone 12 for love or money

-

making

bit of a depression hovel situation going on. we are slowly rolling that back tho. finally met my landlord during the HVAC replacement debacle, he said that he bought this apartment in 2009, lived here for ten years, and then his parents lived here for a couple years. i am the first non-family tenant, i think. all of the appliances and fixtures are from 2009. i think the fridge will be the next to go. ANYWAY. i asked him what the deal was with the lack of bathroom vents and HE said when he had an air conditioner put in in 2009 the HVAC guy then assured him he only needed the HVAC vents and closed up the actual vents. which is a load of shit. i am not really excited to live here for another year but i really super can't afford to move and finding an apartment in houston the first time was such a goddamn nightmare. i cannot do three years tho. hopefully something will have changed by august 2025.

i have also, through a special cashback bonus reward on my credit card, a sale, a gift card, and cashing in more cashback money, acquired a cat tree for philip. modeled here by mackie bc we did room swapping again as i was writing this. i cannot be bothered to install curtain tiebacks or properly fold anything, as you can see below

[popculturelib]

Matchbook Cover Collection

Patented in 1892 by lawyer Joshua Pusey, the matchbook, a seemingly insignificant piece of cardboard enclosing a handful of disposable paper matches, quickly became the staple advertising space at the dawn of the 20th century. Beginning with beer company Pabst and tobacco company Bull Durham, businesses big and small started to purchase printings of books from match companies such as Diamond and Ohio which found their way into millions of coat pockets, hotel rooms, and restaurant ashtrays.

As the butane lighter usurped the match as the portable cigarette light of choice and radio and television became the new frontier of advertising (not to mention the decline in the ubiquity of smoking), matchbooks fell out of favor, now only commercially used as a boutique novelty advertisements for high-end or niche establishments hoping to invoke a sense of the past.

Collectors known as phillumenists (“lovers of light”) still seek out the cardboard rectangles, however, for reasons as diverse as the pictures on their covers. For some, the images on the matchbooks are art in and of themselves; for others, the specific company advertised is of interest, or the category of good and services. Still others attempt to complete sets of novelty books, with the matches themselves printed with or in the shape of such images as bowling pins or ladies’ stockings, or commemorative books, featuring images of historical figures or celebrating such events as a World’s Fair. Whatever the reason, people have come to adore the matchbook in the same way as the baseball card, as a snapshot in history.

The Browne Popular Culture Library (BPCL), founded in 1969, is the most comprehensive archive of its kind in the United States.  Our focus and mission is to acquire and preserve research materials on American Popular Culture (post 1876) for curricular and research use. Visit our website at https://www.bgsu.edu/library/pcl.html.