#at least my college apt was structurally sound!!!

[dreamswillbeyourwintermeat]

This apartment is going to be the death of me. I just opened 3 more maintenance tickets. I am locked into the lease for another year and I just noticed a clause in the lease that the rent automatically goes up by $200 at the end of my current lease? In all my ten years of renting this is the worst place I've ever lived, and that includes my shitty college apartment.

[cohentm]

✮     ∷     ╰  𝖚𝖕𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 .

             I FEEL LIKE i just ran away from home and then realized i’m five and, unfortunately, cannot survive without my parents. LMDFLKDFGM i missed u all and had to return… we hate to see it. anyway! whew. i figured i’d post a refreshed lil intro for cohen to make sure i hit on some key changes before i hop back into the game! the most important / group-related part is right at the top, so if u read nothing else, read that! ily all and i’m excited to jump back in like i never left. i’ll be sliding in dms and makin’ starters asap, so if u wanna make some connection changes my door’s always open! x

✮     ∷     ╰  𝖈𝖔𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖘𝖊𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖆 : 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 .

cohen currently lives in a glorified, raggedy frat-esque house ( he is NOT a fratboy but he might as well be huh ) of his own right off campus, about a five minute drive / ten minute walk from the stadium ( it’s about four bedrooms large with three bathrooms, all on one floor. think david dobrik’s house–click here to see–except much uglier and CHEAP MVDFLG ). 

he’s fiscally very protective of his savings. he’s been working since he was 12 with his dad, and never ever spent his money, despite some repetitive near-misses where his parents tried ( and failed, bc cohen’s slick ) to steal money from him. basically he now pays for his share of the house using the money he saves/has always saved working for factories, farms, & fixing people’s junk cars. 

his only current roommate is foster, meaning he has two spare rooms he’s not really doing anything with. beer pong table’s outside, the kitchen is the alcohol hot spot, there’s a pool table instead of a dining room table, u know how it goes. 

regardless, he throws open invite house parties literally every weekend. they take place every friday night up until the sun rises on sunday morning–whether he’s around the house for all of five seconds or all night doesn’t matter, because they’re always a-go. 

you’re all 100% free to use his house entirely at your leisure for character fun / development / a place for ur thread to take place / etc! you don’t even need to get my okay beforehand! just do it! think of it as a known dillon fact that cohen’s having a house party every weekend NFKDFNDFKJG. 

no matter who you are, whether cohen likes you or not, he will not care if you show up with some randos or familiar faces and party it out. he’s socially bored 24/7 and full of apathy and alcohol at all times so mans probably will be plastered drunk out doing donuts in the parking lot and fighting someone he doesn’t have beef with anyway. ur muse probably won’t even see him there. LMKGDFLG if you’ve ever seen burlesque? literally him showing up to his OWN house for a visit / to get plastered and then wander off during the weekend party is…. real. so yeah! use his house like it’s ur own. just be out by sunday afternoon bc he likes to pretend none of it ever happened as soon as he wakes up and has to be sober for school. x KMVFBLFG love u all.

✮     ∷     ╰  𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬  &  𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 .

tw: eating disorder mentions ( food & lifestyle ), drug addiction / recovery, alcoholism, & mentions of past steroid use.

full name.    cohen anthony segura.

aka.    co, jet.

character inspiration.    adam parrish ( the raven cycle ), vince howard & tim riggins lovechild ( if y’all watched fnl…. let’s cry together ), a much more problematic  &  asshole-ish david dobrik ( the vlog squad ), nathan scott ( oth ), steven hyde ( that ‘70s show ), emily prentiss & aaron hotchner lovechild ( criminal minds ), & noel miller ( tmg ).

age & d.o.b.    twenty-two. birthdate tbd.

zodiac.    virgo sun, aries moon, & aquarius rising.

pronouns.    he / him.

orientation.    openly bisexual.

this has never presented as too large of an issue for cohen, despite living in dillon. he isn’t afraid of being talked about, and has a history of making sure people know he can hold his own if anyone has anything to say about his personal life.

university major.    architecture  &  architectural technology.

after living in a trailer for the duration of his life, the idea that he would be invested in architecture is astounding. however, here he is. his passion for home creation stemmed from growing up and envisioning a real home to live in. his parents are both into self-taught carpentry, and his dad was shoving tools and measuring tape into his hands from the time he was young in an effort to instill in him a firm “get it done yourself” mindset. he spends his time studying structure  &  building planning, and secretly has a journal full of dream house mark-ups.

occupation.    wide receiver for the dillon panthers, full time student, & prospective architect / carpenter post-college.

tattoos.    many riddled throughout his body. brandon arreaga’s tattoos are cohen’s.

face claim.    brandon arreaga.

alignment.    neutral evil.

hogwarts.    slytherin.

positive & negative traits.    ( if u’ve already read this do not read it again i promise u nothing here changed LSMFLD )

hardworking–he works himself to the bone and is entirely unapologetic about it. you’ll rarely catch him slipping, but if he does, he’s the first to get ear-splittingly angry with himself over it. he’s way too hard on himself & he knows it, but he’ll never admit it. 

he nitpicks at the flaws of others in an effort to feel superior, and always acts unaffected when he’s called out for bringing the team down when he’s not taking care of himself ( cue vince howard from fnl or nathan scott from oth scenes where they’re bragging about how good they are on the field even though he’s apt to get himself hurt because of how desperate he is for some kind of validation–cohen had a huge issue with restricting and abusing stimulants / testing steroids throughout high school and college in an attempt to boost his football persona. he was always incredibly fast and beat literal ODDS to maintain his wide receiver position, but especially thanks to his small build he’s used to being underestimated / downplayed, which puts a really heavy weight on his shoulders. today, he’s eating healthily, he’s off drugs, and he’s taking care of himself better than he ever has before, but it’s still incredibly hard and he still reaches out for ways to overcompensate, which is where alcohol usually comes into play ). 

transparent–sure, he can turn into a stressed out & irritable jerk within a fraction of a second, but at least he’s upfront about when he switches lanes. LDFGLMKFG

he’s incredibly focused, which means he’s never going to linger in uncertainty for too long before he admits that he’s just not down to be around you / to be there / to talk / etc. he’s no bullshitter by any means. he’d rather hurt your feelings and keep his environment stable and tactile than stick around and put his easily shaken emotions at risk just to make you comfy. 

he’s also accountable. he knows when he’s causing shit to fuck up & hit the fan, and he’s always quick to right wrongs when things are on him. ofc he’s bred from a family full of blame-givers, so he unhealthily picked up a bad habit of being really good at sounding like he’s apologizing sincerely when he’s really just trying to end a fight because he’s annoyed. LDCLDKMFDFG. 

he’s blunt, temperamental, & incredibly selfish when it comes to his own lifelines / vices, but wholeheartedly selfless when it comes to doing anything to protect or lift up the people he loves.

mental diagnoses.    anorexia nervosa ( in recovery ), alcoholism ( ongoing ), an addiction to various stimulants ( in recovery ), & frequent past attempts at steroid use.

physical diagnoses.    n / a.

phobias.    has an irrational fear of accidentally burning down his house. will get immensely stressed–to the point where he’s absolutely annoying and intolerable to put up with / be around–if someone’s cooking or baking “irresponsibly.” will probably yell at you and hover-cook until you let him take over so he can make sure nothing goes wrong. LMSDFKLFG

scars.   an appendix scar on his lower left side.

drug use.    frequently.

alcohol use.    frequently.

diet.    very decently rounded. he loves to cook, despite being self-taught. growing up the way he did, he settles for making simple dishes very well. he’s not the type to go all out for dinner. he meal preps like it’s his job. he usually just settles with some kind of pan-friend chicken and pasta dish at home.

birth place.    dillon, texas.

parents.    "jude" judith & anthony segura. 

two lower class parents with deep-rooted anger issues. they currently live in the same trailer park together, in separate trailers, and fight with each other constantly. they claim they’re divorced, and are seeing other people, but they’ve never actually filed for anything, since anthony segura thinks it’s just a ploy for judith to take “half [his] shit.” cohen visits them often, and acts as a middle ground child who hates but loves both of them equally. his dad enjoys / tolerates his son’s presence more than his mother does, but only marginally. his mother’s much less concerned with the fact that she has children, since, in her mind, her relationship issues are the most important things in her life. cohen spent many nights as a kid with his drugged up mom in his lap while she cried about not being loved by anyone. his dad, even though he’s rough with cohen, at least spends time with him every now and again. as a kid, his dad was handing him beers to drink and tools to learn to use to prove he was a man ( despite being a ten y/o child bfkjgk oh well! ). regardless, today cohen lives on his own but is still the financial backbone for his parents–since his mom is unemployed and his dad is a seasonal construction worker–and has been since he was fifteen. they ask him for money every chance they get, and cohen never says no.

siblings.    a younger sister ( by two years ). loves her to death. would protect her with his life.

pets.    he’s notorious for letting a certain set of strays run amuck in his house. he feeds the neighborhood cat, is a-okay with people bringing their animals to his parties, etc. but he’s too scared of permanence and obsessed with independence to ever follow through with getting his own animal.

education.    current senior at dillon university. 

he has always been a decent student. he got into architectural honors college his sophomore year of college. however, he’s still not by any means incredibly intelligent. he’s decent grade-wise, but only because he tries really hard and puts in the effort it takes to keep up in a field like architecture. he’s also a chronic cheater, but c’est la vie! lmfgdflkg he spends the vast majority of his time either studying or practicing, and gets very irritable very quick doing either activity because he doesn’t know how to manage stress, so he drinks in the evenings in an attempt to make up for his tense demeanor, but he’s an angry drunk so… whomst are we really kidding here. LMDFKLG

languages.    english & american sign language.

[nouveauweird]

do you have any recs for learning about screenwriting / how to screenwrite? i'm one of those writers who kind of sees things like a movie and i'm wondering if things would work out better for me with a new medium. thanks in advance!

I hope you’ve got some time to read all of this because it got really frickin’ long.

I was introduced to screenwriting in a Writing Lab in college and followed suit into a Screenwriting IA (Integrative Activity, where students demonstrate what they’ve learned over the course of their studies in the Cinema and Communications program). 

So admittedly, most of what I learned was from two teachers who already knew their stuff and worked in the industry. However, I was so interested in pursuing screenwriting once I’d fallen in love with it, that I bought all the “optional” resource books my Screenwriting teacher had recommended. 

The Screenwriter’s Manual: A Complete Reference of Format and Style by Stephen E. Bowles, Ronald Mangravite, and Peter A. Zorn Jr. really has the basics for what you need to learn how to get into screenwriting. It is available on Amazon for a range of prices. 

I also read significantly through The Screenwriter’s Problem Solver: How to recognize, identify, and define screenwriting problems by Syd Field and to be honest it can actually be useful for any kind of story writer, as I perused it and applied some of its content to a few films I found were really poorly executed. 

I own, but have not significantly perused:

Story: Substance, Structure, Style and The Principles of Screenwriting by Robert McKee 

My uncle who is a screenwriter recommended highly, I personally haven’t dived in yet because the McKee has a stupid disclaimer about why he chose to use He pronouns to refer to the writer throughout the book which was a bit irritating so I just covered it with a sticky note and let it sit for a while.

Writing Short Films: Structure and Content for Screenwriters by Linda J. Cowgill

*Writing Tools: 55 Essential Strategies for Every Writer by Roy Peter Clark.

*Showing & Telling by Laurie Alberts

*Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within by Natalie Goldberg (currently reading)

*Take Off Your Pants! : Outline Your Books for Faster, Better Writing by Libbie Hawker. 

* = not screenwriting specific, general writing.

Two other books that come highly recommended by both of my uncles who work in the industry are: Save the Cat by Blake Snyder, and Screenplay: The Foundations of Screenwriting by Syd Field.

Since I didn’t learn this completely on my own, I don’t have many online resources, but a quick google search of “Basic Screenwriting Format” should yield you some decent results. HERE is one I found, which has a few book recommendations in it as well. Airtable has resources for screenwriting as well but I am not as familiar with it, search “screenwriting” in the template section.

Here’s what I can recommend right off the bat, sign up for Celtx. It has free and paid subscription services, and you can keep 3 projects on your account at a time, but you can also just download them as PDF’s to free up space and reupload them later and the format will be in tact. Scrivener also has a screenwriting word processor, but it’s a (one time) paid program. 

There are many other word processors for screenwriting, but the best for beginners is Celtx. Most processors these days do the formatting for you, unlike 10-20+ years ago when you had to figure that shit out yourself. All you have to do is get familiar with where everything goes. 

Which brings me to the next part of my answer…

A Screenwriting Crash Course 

For a whole fucking load more of information, look under the cut.

First and foremost, I think it’s important to understand that the narrative description / action / description (all terms used interchangeably) is written in present tense 3rd person, and that you should focus on describing exclusively on what can be SEEN and HEARD. You should also try to be as concise and brief as possible. I found this was quite freeing because while I do love the metaphorical descriptions in prose, screenwriting is a very snappy and visual medium to write in. 

Another thing to understand is that beyond learning the basic formatting rules of screenwriting, you can pretty much bullshit formatting you’re not sure about. I’ve read many screenplays where certain elements were not consistent, such as whether or not the writer chooses to put their characters’ names in CAPS every single time (you should at least do so when the character is first introduced).

It’s actually really easy to find scripts of your favourite films online with a quick google search, it might take practice but I’ve managed to build a decent collection of screenplays that I like to read and get an eye for certain formatting tricks that won’t be in a “how to” book. Screenplays also read very quickly. There’s a general rule of 1:1 for page:minute, meaning 1 page is usually equal to one minute of screen time, and if not, it usually averages out.

I’m going to pull some quotes from The Screenwriter’s Manual to give you a bit of an idea of where you can start: pg 25 - 44, 49 - 63

You can find photos of the table of contents HERE if you’d like to message me directly with specific questions, I’d be happy to send you photos of the section you want. 

The Staging

The first component in the scene line [or slug line] provides the most basic information about the set-up for the scene.

The staging is ALWAYS abbreviated and followed by a period. There are only two choices for a scene: 

INT. for an interior set, informing the reader that the scene takes place in an inside environment

EXT. for an exterior set, specifying an outside environment. 

1. The Location

The second component in the scene line is the location in which the scene takes place. 

The location follows the INT. or EXT. designation and is separated from it by two character spaces [most screenwriting processors will do this automatically].

Do not abbreviate any words in the location component of the scene line. For example,

INT. APARTMENT is correct, and INT. APT. is incorrect.

VERY IMPORTANT

It is absolutely essential that every specific location be distinguished from every other location. 

If Joe lives in an apartment, then you can call that location INT. APARTMENT But if, in the same screenplay, Bob also has an apartment you can no longer use INT. APARTMENT as a location for Bob’s apartment.

To eliminate confusion, one solution is to call each apartment location by the resident’s name: INT. JOE’S APARTMENT and INT. BOB’S APARTMENT

Once a specific location has been identified in the scene line, all subsequent scenes taking place in that location MUST be identified in exactly the same way.

FIRST NOTE:

The location identifies where the activity and dialogue take place…

… if John lives in a multi-room apartment and John is currently in his bedroom (so that other rooms are concealed from view), then the scene line must read, INT. JOHN’S BEDROOM or INT. JOHN’S APARTMENT, BEDROOM

[If the action moves from one location to another there are different ways to indicate it; one would be to created a new scene line to indicate the new location, or to indicate the new location in the description like “John walks out of his bedroom and into the LIVING ROOM”. ]

…

FOURTH NOTE

A scene line can take either of two common variations: 

Most often, the scene line will define a specific location, such as INT. JOHN’S LIVING ROOM which limits the field of view to the area where the “camera” is placed.

If the scene takes place in a more generalized location, you can write it as an open scene, such as EXT. COLLEGE CAMPUS … By identifying the scene in a generalized way, you are indicating that it is not important to your narrative to identify precisely where on the campus this scene takes place.

THE TIME

The third component of the scene line indicates the general time at which the scene begins. 

The time follows the location and is separated from it by a character space, then a dash, and then another character space.

[ example: INT. JOHN’S HOUSE, ATTIC - DAY ]

The time component of the scene line is most typically specified as a simple DAY or NIGHT. However, the time component can define a more precise period of the day or night. For example, DAWN, MORNING, AFTERNOON, RUSH HOUR, etc.

… You CANNOT specify an exact time, such as 3:30 PM, in the scene line. If such a specific time is required, you need to [include it in your description]…

When there is no lapse of time from one scene to the next, the time element in the scene line could simply be, CONTINUOUS. … if the time lapse is very brief, then you could use something like, MOMENTS LATER, A FEW MINUTES LAYER

AN EXEMPTION:

If a scene takes place in a location in which there is no way to gauge the visible time (DAY or NIGHT), then that element is omitted from the scene line.

ADDING SPECIFICS TO THE SCENE LINE

IDENTIFYING HISTORICAL PERIOD

[example EXT. PARIS, FRANCE - DAY (1946)

EXT. CHICAGO, ILLINOIS - DAY (1920′s)]

INDICATING A MOBILE SITUATION

If a scene opens with a moving vehicle within the location, then that can be indicated in the scene line. For example… INT. JOHN’S CAR - DAY (MOVING)

2. ACTION or [DESCRIPTION]

Description imparts the necessary detail to the essentials of the scene, describing such features as the characters, sets, props, and any necessary action and sound cues. 

It is generally best to keep the level of detail focused on the actions and dialogue that comprise the narrative. That is where your attention and the reader’s interest should be directed. 

By describing the particular props and decor in a scene and how each character dresses or grooms, you can suggest such character information as personality type, emotional condition, religious affiliation, economic level, artistic taste, and for forth.

First, establish the scene, describing only what is visually apparent in the location and giving only as much detail as necessary. 

You cannot describe anything that cannot be seen… until they have been revealed. 

You do not need to itemize things that are generic and would ordinarily be present, such as furnishings, colours, arrangements, [etc]…

However you MUST specify anything that is unusual or essential to the scene. 

[ My uncle imparted me with a great tip; screenwriting doesn’t maintain traditional prose rules about paragraphs. You should try to keep your descriptions a maximum of four lines, and feel free to break them up into one-line or even one-word for emphasis.]

… 

VERY IMPORTANT: 

You can only convey what is happening at the moment… [No what has happened or what will happen]. 

You CANNOT provide any biographical, psychological, or situational information [about your characters] unless you can find visual means to do so (such as a newspaper article, a television program, [etc.])…

INTRODUCING CHARACTERS

Each character must be introduced in the description the first time [they] physically appear in the screenplay. This includes not only major characters, but also supporting characters and even minor characters and groups that function as characters. 

NAMING CHARACTERS

When a character is introduced, [their] name is ALWAYS typed in ALL CAPS regardless of whether the character is identified by a proper name, a profession, or an appearance… EVANS, AGENT ONE, DERELICT…

Once a character has been introduced, all subsequent references to that character’s name in the description should be written in a normal manner with initial caps… Evans, Agent One, Derelict… 

DESCRIBING CHARACTERS

As the screenwriter, you know who is a major character and who is a supporting or minor character because you have the entire story in your mind. The reader, however, is in a different situation.

… The amount of detail you provide about a character’s appearance and demeanor will give the reader a key to that character’s important in the script. 

As a guide, when characters are introduced, you need to make clear how important each is going to be by tailoring the description and context accordingly.

[ You should describe their appearance and what they are doing when you introduce your characters. There are many different formats to describe a character when you are introducing them, and none of them are the hard and fast rule, you will probably end up settling for your own preferred method].

WARREN EVANS, late twenties, intense, handsome with closely cropped hair and a neatly trimmed moustache, is working with cool precision at one of the hundreds of banks of wiring terminals. he is dressed in coveralls and wearing thin latex gloves.

A VARIATION:

A character’s age can also be assigned a numerical designation, such as…

WARREN EVANS (late 20s), ruggedly handsome, dressed in… 

Seated at the table is CINDY LEWIS, late 20s and very attractive…

[ Generally you should only mention eye colour, skin colour, height, weight, hair style/colour if it is relevant to the narrative. ]

WORDS THAT GET CAPPED

In addition to using CAPS to introduce characters in the description, there are established conventions for other elements that need to be typed in CAPS but only if they affect the narrative…

Those elements include: 

all essential costumes, props and decorany important action, effects, or emphasisany required music or sounds

Although some of the following instances require CAPPING, many will be judgement decisions. 

FIRST NOTE:

You CANNOT identify every costume, prop, or decor on the set. Ordinary objects that have no special significance to the narrative should be left [ in normal text].

SECOND NOTE:

… if a certain prop is important to the story, you should CAP it when it first appears, regardless of whether it is important to that particular scene.

WHEN TO CAP AND WHEN NOT TO CAP

CAPPED words can be effective only if they are used sparingly and appropriately, if CAPPED words are used too frequently, their significance will be lost.

3. THE DIALOGUE-BLOCK

The dialogue element, [also] called the dialogue-block, of the screenplay format consists of three components:

the character-name specifies which character is speaking…the dialogue reveals what is being said by that charactera parenthetical, when necessary, instructs [or indicated an element of] how or to whom the character [is speaking].                           EVANS                 (to the group)   Sorry I’m late. This round’s on me.

GENERAL RULES

ALWAYS contains the character-name and dialogue, and it MAY, if helpful, also contain parentheticals.is ALWAYS single spaced with no blank lines that internally separate the individual componentsis ALWAYS preceded and followed by a single blank line

[ Parentheticals should not be used too often, you should be attempting to provide context for how the character is delivering their line in the description by providing adequate mood/intensity/emotion.]

CHARACTER NAMES

A character-name is the designation used for the speaker…

… Once a character-name has been established, you MUST consistently use that name from that character.

For example, if you’ve introduced the character as COLIN PRYCE in the description, then you will probably want to use the designation COLIN or PRYCE in the dialogue-block.

DIALOGUE

Everything that the actor speaks that is heard by the audience is dialogue. 

[Dialogue] is ALWAYS written in basic prose with initial caps and proper punctuation. 

EMPHASIS IN DIALOGUE

To emphasize a particular word or phrase you should underline it.

OFF-SCREEN or VOICE-OVER CUES

[ Off-screen: when a character is not physically present in the scene peaks from a nearby location, close enough that they could enter the scene. Such a character might be speaking from a room out of view or from behind a concealed area.

Voice-over: (1) a voice heard from a mechanical device such as a telephone, radio, intercom, tape recorder, answering machine, walkie-talkie, etc. (2) The voice of a narrator, which is required when the dialogue is spoken by an unseen narrator. (3) The thoughts of a character, applied when a character is visually present and what is heard are their thoughts.

Usually, a character who is speaking dialogue is visually present within the scene. However, there are two important exceptions: off-screen and voice-over.

The off-screen (O.S.) and voice-over (V.O.) cues 

- ALWAYS follow the character-name on the same line- are ALWAYS enclosed in parentheses- are ALWAYS abbreviated in upper case.

PARENTHETICALS

Parentheticals are a convenient device to convey specific information about how the dialogue is being said… 

[Parentheticals] are ALWAYS enclosed by parentheses… are restricted to words, phrases, and fragments… ALWAYS apply to the dialogue that immediately follows it.

Parentheticals need to be concise and direct, indicating such brief information such as:

- to whom the character is speaking (to John), (into phone), (to himself)- a particular gesture or mannerism(raising his glass), (looking at her watch)- how the dialogue is being spoken(angrily), (coughing), (softly), (thick ____ accent)

WRITING PARENTHETICALS

Because parentheticals are limited to words and phrases, they [should always be written in lowercase and with no punctuation, for example:

(loudly)

No more than two directions should be included in any parenthetical. If two directions appear they should be separated by a semi-colon:

(to the class; loudly)

THREE SPECIAL CASES

- a (beat)- a (pause)- an (interrupting)

[A (beat) indicates a change of thought, suggests a moment of indecision, or conveys a dramatic effect.

A (pause) signifies that a break in the dialogue occurs. This is most often used in phone conversations. 

An (interruption) indicates that the dialogue begun be the previous speaker is being interrupted by the current character (there are a few different ways you can format this). ]

I won’t go any further than this because this is already extremely long, but ultimately I invite you to take a look at some of the scripts (here and here) I’ve written and doctored as an amateur screenwriter as well as digging up your own favourite movie scripts which will give you a good idea of how to implements what formatting.

[the-end-of-art]

A negative peace

Asian American Complicity in Racism by Larry Lin at Reformed Margins

I moved to Baltimore in August 2013. Prior to that time, I was pretty ignorant of the African American experience. I had read Uncle Tom’s Cabin in school, and I remember that making a strong impression on me. I was also a bit of a history nerd, so I had read up a little bit on the slave trade, Reconstruction, and Jim Crow.

But I don’t think I ever had a substantial conversation with someone who was black about race before.

Within a few months of moving to Baltimore (which is a majority-black city), I became friends with a guy named Mani. Mani was an African American born and raised in Baltimore, and we would hang out to talk about faith and make music. The first time I went over to his apartment, I remember noticing three things.

The first was a picture of Martin Luther King, Jr. The second was a picture of Malcolm X. And the third was a bag of Skittles and a soda can on the coffee table.

Every time I would go over, I would always notice those three things. Perhaps the third or fourth time at his place, I asked Mani why he always had snacks on the coffee table. He replied with a voice of resolve, “That’s what Trayvon Martin was holding when he was shot.”

When I heard that, my first thought was, “Travyon Martin… that name sounds familiar. When I get home, I need to look that name up.” Of course, I was too embarrassed to say that out loud. I didn’t want Mani to know that I was so ignorant. But right then and there, I realized that there was a vast difference between my experience as an Asian American and Mani’s experience as an African American.

So over the next several years, as I got to know Mani more, I decided to read up on what it was like to be black in America today. I explored the criminal justice system, the prison system, police violence, infant mortality, social mobility, wealth distribution, college enrollment, etc., and I slowly became more and more aware of the structural disadvantages that continually plague African Americans in our country. Additionally, the more I learned, the more shocked I was at how ignorant I was before.

Meanwhile, I watched with the rest of the world as the lives of Eric Garner, Tamir Rice, Walter Scott, Freddie Gray, Philando Castile, Botham Jean, Atatiana Jefferson, and Ahmaud Arbery were taken away.

This week, yet another life was taken away: George Floyd. I watched the video of the incident on Tuesday, and once again I was horrified to see another death of a black human being.

But with this video, there was something else that disturbed me too. While the white officer was pinning down Floyd’s neck with his knee, an Asian officer was standing by in silence, and even at times preventing protestors from intervening.

To me, it was the perfect representation of Asian American complicity in racism.

I acknowledge that there have been Asian Americans throughout history who have fought alongside their African American neighbors against racism. However, they have been far outnumbered by Asian Americans who have chosen to be ignorant at best or complicit at worst in their racism.

There are many complex historical and cultural reasons for this Asian American status quo, and it would take forever to address them all. We can talk about the fact that many Asians value harmony and sacrifice, even at the expense of integrity and justice. We can talk about the fact that many Asian immigrants come from countries where there are dictators, and where political advocacy results in imprisonment or death.

But the fact remains: too often, Asian Americans have chosen to side with the white racist over the black victim.

Much of the national conversation on race has focused on the relationship between whites and blacks. As a result, Asians are often found in the messy middle. However, most Asians don’t want to be in the middle. Even though we have also experienced a long history of racial discrimination at the hands of our white neighbors, many of us still see assimilation into white culture as our path to fulfilling the American dream. And so we work hard, we study hard, we don’t ruffle any feathers, and we continue to live up to our status of the model minority (which has been granted to us largely at the expense of African Americans).

We Asian Americans might not say it out loud, but many of us have internalized a racist, reductionist history. We believe that the way to success is to work hard, and we pride ourselves in having done just that. We came to this country with nothing, speaking a foreign language, and we worked hard, saved money, and we achieved the American dream. And so when we look at the status of African Americans, we dismissively assume that they didn’t work as hard as we did, and we just conclude that only they are to blame.

Unfortunately, this narrative has driven Asian Americans to be at political and social odds with African Americans. This division is most apparent in conversations about affirmative action, which has become the defining political issue for many Asian Americans. In many universities, Asian Americans are overrepresented in college admissions while African Americans are underrepresented, so affirmative action works against Asian Americans but for African Americans.

This political division is highlighted in events like the LA Riots, in which predominantly African American rioters caused significant damage in predominantly Asian-American-owned stores, and the shooting of Akai Gurley, in which an Asian American police officer accidentally shot and killed an African American.

However, this narrative is a very incomplete picture. What many Asian Americans fail to realize is that our success is largely built on the backs of African Americans themselves. After all, if African American slavery did not exist, the United States may not have been such a desirable country to immigrate to. It was through the enslavement of African Americans that American prosperity was built in the first place. Additionally, if it wasn’t for the generations of African Americans fighting for their rights before most of us ever arrived, it is possible that Asian Americans would not have been as easily accepted here as well. In many ways, African Americans laid the path for other ethnic minorities to come to America too.

The reality is that we Asian Americans have unknowingly reaped from the sufferings of our fellow African Americans. The least we can do is stand with them as they continue to suffer.

Perhaps some of us, like my former self, are willing to admit that we are uninformed or uneducated about the African American experience, but we argue that that doesn’t make us complicit in racism. We are not actually killing anybody, we might say. However, sometimes it is precisely the inaction of the bystanders that perpetuates societal racism.

Martin Luther King, Jr. once wrote in his Letter from Birmingham Jail,

…I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action”; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a “more convenient season.” Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.

Here King describes “the white moderate” of his day—those of “shallow understanding” who are “more devoted to ‘order’ than to justice,” who prefer a “negative peace” over “the presence of justice.” What an apt description of so many Asian Americans today.

A similar sentiment is expressed in James 2:1-7,

My brothers, show no partiality as you hold the faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory. For if a man wearing a gold ring and fine clothing comes into your assembly, and a poor man in shabby clothing also comes in, and if you pay attention to the one who wears the fine clothing and say, “You sit here in a good place,” while you say to the poor man, “You stand over there,” or, “Sit down at my feet,” have you not then made distinctions among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts? Listen, my beloved brothers, has not God chosen those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom, which he has promised to those who love him? But you have dishonored the poor man. Are not the rich the ones who oppress you, and the ones who drag you into court? Are they not the ones who blaspheme the honorable name by which you were called?

“We are not actively harming the poor,” we may say, but doesn’t our partiality for the rich perpetuate the inequality between the rich and the poor?

I believe the same principle can be applied to race. Many Asian Americans have shown partiality by honoring their white neighbors while dishonoring their black neighbors. Doesn’t our partiality for those who are white perpetuate the inequality between whites and blacks?

I confess that I, like the Asian American officer at the scene of George Floyd’s death, have been a part of the problem. For much of my life, I was complicit in my racism toward African Americans, and I was completely oblivious to that racism. I was more devoted to order than to justice. I sought to honor the powerful, not realizing that doing so was dishonoring the powerless. But that is not the biblical way. James writes, “Are not the rich the ones who oppress you, and the ones who drag you into court?” I would also add, “Are not the people who are racist against African Americans also racist against Asian Americans as well?”

I don’t want to be ignorant anymore. I don’t want to be silent anymore. I don’t want to be complicit anymore.

Fellow Asian Americans, let’s stop defending the racism in our culture. Let’s stand in solidarity with our African American neighbors.

(https://reformedmargins.com/asian-american-complicity-in-racism/)

[welllpthisishappening]

Caught in Your Light (1/4)

Forever. It's been forever. Or, possibly, longer.

It might honestly be longer.

Killian can't remember a moment when he wasn't hopelessly, head over heels in love with Emma. And it's kind of becoming a problem. Because it's been forever and they've always been friends, but now things are changing and traditions are ending and there's just one more weekend.

This is it. So it's time to do something about it. In Boston. With all their friends watching. It'll be fine.

Rating: Mature. Swearing. Kissing. Rinse and repeat. Word Count: Way too many, but just under 9K this chapter. AN: Hi, hello, hey there! It’s me again with more words. This is my @csficformal​ story for @idristardis​. It has been an absolute delight getting to know you over the last few weeks and I hope you enjoy all the words and the pining an (eventual) bed sharing. A major thank you to @distant-rose​ & @awkwardnessandbaseball​ for organizing this event and just being generally fabulous. And I’m not saying that my friends and I also called the last weekend of spring semester Final Jam, but I’m not, not saying that, y’know?  Also on Ao3 if that’s your jam (of the final variety or otherwise) with future updates on Tuesday and Friday. 

He can’t stop moving.

If he stops moving, he’ll probably start thinking and the last thing Killian wants to be doing in the middle of Logan Airport is think. So he keeps bobbing on his feet instead, bouncing up and down like an over-excited kid and it’s a pretty apt description because, much like the kid standing next to him, he too is also holding a hand-made sign.

And waiting.

Her flight is late.

He refuses to believe that is a sign. He’s got already one, anyway, and it’s, technically, a sheet of computer paper with a drawing that one of the art teachers promised looked great the day before, but it’s still a sign and Killian will not think about how the FAA is, apparently trying to ruin his weekend.

The kid next to him keeps sending Killian furtive glances, confusion obvious in the pinch between his eyebrows and that’s fair – Killian probably looks like a crazy person, but he can’t stop moving and it’s getting increasingly more difficult to breathe and Emma’s flight is late.

“Are you ok?” the kid asks and Killian freezes in his tracks, the forty-second time he’s traced out that particular semicircle on the floor of the JetBlue arrivals gate. His eyes widen slightly, brows jumping up his forehead and he bites back the immediate retort of you shouldn’t be talking to strangers sitting on his tongue.

He nods instead, slow and a little awkward and his arm is starting to ache from holding this sign up for so long.

The kid does not look convinced.

That’s fair too. The entire Boston area probably knows that Killian is not fine. He’s nervous and anxious and excited and nervous – an adjective that deserves mentioning twice because it’s the weekend in some kind of bolded and underlined and supremely italicized way.

Only that’s not what they’re calling it.

They’re calling The FINAL Final Jam and it’s not a very creative title, but they’re not a very creative group and this would have been easier if Emma’s flight was on goddamn time.

He’s started thinking.

Damnit.

“Ok,” the kid mutters, averting his eyes because Killian might actually be glaring at him, but he’s kind of lost control of his face and, like, his entire life.

He takes a deep breath, or, at least, tries, pulling in oxygen through his nose and it’s all repurposed air anyway because he’s been standing in the airport for the last forty-five minutes and he’s going to have to pay so much money to get out of that parking garage.

“I’m really fine,” Killian promises and it doesn’t even sound like his own voice.

It is, he reasons, because of Final Jam.

He hates that name.

That’s a lie too.

It’s a vaguely hysterical name that they all came up with, exactly, a decade ago – slightly overworked and vaguely exhausted freshman with finals ahead of them and a first year of college, almost, behind them and Mary Margaret had been going through some strange Disney Channel Original Movie phase at the time.

“It’s a perfect name,” she’d promised and she sounded so sincere and so enthusiastic that none of them objected. Ever again.

And Final Jam was born – the last weekend of the year before finals or, as they got older, the first weekend in May and they all made a list and came up with one incredibly tourist-type activity they each wanted to do and there was always a considerable amount of alcohol and far too much laughing and Jonas Brothers references and it might have been Killian’s favorite weekend of the year.

It was definitely Killian’s favorite weekend of the year.

Only now, it’s ten years later and it’s the final Final Jam because they’re all adults and Mary Margaret and David are going to have a kid and things have to end some time.

This is exactly what he didn’t want to be thinking about.

The kid is still staring apprehensively at him, mouth twisted and Killian wonders where his parent or guardian is, but that only lasts as long as the relative silence and then there’s a PA announcement and a flash on one of the boards and--

“Killian!” His head snaps around at the sound and the voice, any worry about the end of everything forgotten, and he nearly drops the goddamn sign.

She’s smiling as soon as he moves, a bag slung over her shoulder and it hits him in the thigh when she all but leaps towards him, arms flung around his neck and laughter ringing in his ears and he doesn’t exactly breathe her in because that would weird, but he doesn’t not do it either and his arms fit around Emma Swan’s waist perfectly.

“Am I not on the ground anymore?” she asks, but the words get jumbled a bit where she’s pressed into his shoulder and the sign is a lost cause at this point.

Emma leans back slightly, feet absolutely not on the ground and that’s not doing Killian’s forearms any favors, but he can’t consider a possibility where he moves, which is only slightly ironic considering everything else that’s happened in the last hour or so.

“Are you not impressed with my feats of strength, Swan?” he asks and he’s smiling too, but that might be because he’s fairly convinced he can feel every single inch of her.

“Oh no, no, totally impressed. But what are you doing here? Don’t you have to impart wisdom to several dozen teenagers?” “I get days off.” “You work at the same school as Mary Margaret and I know for a fact that you did not have today off.” “Well I get to request days off.” He’s momentarily concerned about the state of her back when she arches away even more, but he’s also a bit preoccupied by whatever her fingers are doing to the hair at the nape of his neck and the way her shoulders kind of sag when she exhales.

Like it’s the single most surprising thing in the world.

“You took today off?” Emma asks softly.

“How else were you going to get into the city?” “On public transportation like everyone else.” “Ah, but you’re not everyone else, are you, Swan?”

The words are out of his mouth before he’s had half a second to consider them and Killian’s vaguely certain even the kid behind him gasps, but it might be the most honest thing he’s said...ever.

That’s only kind of alarming.

He really does try to impart historical knowledge to severals dozen teenagers regularly and it feels like breaking some kind of teaching code to suggest that he’s lying to them.

Even so.

It is the truest truth Killian Jones has ever said and that sentence structure would make Mary Margaret groan.

He met Mary Margaret first. Well, technically he met David first – forced together on a group project in a freshman science class that neither one of them were particularly good at – but it only takes a few days to meet Mary Margaret after that. They’re a picture-perfect couple that is only kind of nauseating, but also kind of adorable if you’re into that whole true love is great thing and Killian is sitting in David’s dorm when Mary Margaret shows up with a slightly disgruntled human being trailing along behind her that she introduces as her roommate.

Emma Swan does not appear to be particularly impressed by much of anything at the time, but Killian notices the way she smiles when she glances at David and Mary Margaret and something in the back corner of his brain seems to short-circuit as soon as she meets his gaze.

They’re not really friends, at least not at first, more like Mary Margaret and David’s orphans that they adopt, but Killian keeps noticing things about Emma.

She mixes hot chocolate in her coffee, but only in the afternoon, like she’s afraid she’ll dilute the caffeine if she does it in the morning. She keeps her student ID in her phone when she flips it closed. She hates the top bunk she sleeps on, but agreed to let Mary Margaret take the bottom because Mary Margaret has some kind of deep and lingering fear of heights.

They spend time together. They make vaguely snarky comments around each other. They actually acknowledge that they might be friends.

And the group keeps growing.

Mary Margaret meets Ruby at the gym – a sentence that makes Emma laugh uproariously, falling into Killian’s side and he probably doesn’t think about that for several weeks – and Killian meets Mulan while they’re both working a shift at the Student Union together, swiping ID cards that at least half of the students forget.

Mulan brings in Merida in the spring semester of freshman year, both of them running on the same student government ballot and while they don’t win that year, they do win eventually, and Emma is actually pretty good at making signs for their campaign.

That might be why Killian brought a sign to Logan several years later.

They become some kind of seven-headed monster of friendship and feeling and generic support and Killian resolutely ignores whatever his brain does whenever Emma moves into his line of vision for the first three years, nine months and six days of his undergraduate career.

But then Final Jam happens.

And things happen.

And they both, resolutely, ignore them.

Completely and totally and, maybe, a little immaturely, but he absolutely refuses to risk anything more than what he already has and Emma’s smile is far too close to tremulous when they flip their tassels at graduation.

“You really took today off?” Emma asks, jerking Killian out of memories and a string of thoughts that don’t belong in some kind of epic, slightly touristy weekend. She’s still moving her fingers, feet dangling above the floor and he’s not sure he’s ever seen that look on her face.

It’s something that feels a bit like hope and looks a bit like want and he’s smiling before he realizes his brain has decided that’s something he wants to do.

That’s mostly his default setting whenever he’s around Emma, though, so it doesn’t really matter.  

“Swan, we just went over this,” Killian grins. “It would have taken forever to get to my apartment anyway. I’m just streamlining the schedule.”

“That would impress Mary Margaret a lot.” “Well if you want to brag to Mary Margaret about my schedule-making abilities later, then feel free to. Make sure you use lots of adjectives and remind David that I’m better at driving than he is.” “It’s weird that you guys are still so questionably competitive about that.” He can’t really shrug when he’s still supporting most of her body weight, but he makes a valiant effort – and an even more valiant effort not to groan loudly when Emma’s hips cant into his. Killian is, apparently, very fond of torturing himself.

“And,” she adds, scrunching her nose when his breath catches as soon as her fingers card through his hair. “I really don’t have to stay with you. That was...it’s nice of you to offer, I mean.”

Killian resists the urge to tell her she can stay forever if she wants, fairly certain that would just send Emma running towards the next departing flight out of Logan to anywhere, but that’s another truth and he has to lick his lips before he responds.

He doesn’t notice the way Emma’s eyes widen slightly at that.

“Cheaper than a hotel,” Killian says. “And you can’t back out of accepting the offer now. You’re already here.” “Ok, that’s just fundamentally untrue. I know how to book a hotel.” “And I am telling you that you don’t have to. Or didn’t have to. Both tenses.”

“There are more than two tenses in the English language, how do you not know that? You’re molding the minds of the youth.” “Swan, you can’t keep using my job as an insult.”

She rolls her eyes, sticking her tongue out and that is step three in the Emma Swan and Killian Jones banter schedule. It’s not as intense as the schedule for Final Jam, which Killian is almost certain Mary Margaret laminated during her free period earlier this week, but that’s a point he wants to bring up in front of the entire group for maximum joke-landing potential.

“But it’s so easy,” she whines, twisting and turning and none of this is going according to plan. He should have come up with a better plan.

They really should have talked about that Final Jam from senior year.

“Who are you going to ask about major moments in American history?” Killian asks. “Because you keep making jokes and throwing insults and I’m going to refuse to answer anymore of your questions about the accuracy of Hamilton.” “The internet exists. Also they literally wrote a book about that. David got it for me for Christmas two years ago. Also also--” “--How do you have more points to this?” “I would if you let me finish,” Emma hisses, but it lacks any real sense of frustration or animosity and maybe step four of the schedule is just thinly veiled flirting. Killian widens his eyes, an unspoken go on that earns him a quiet growl and the smirk is, like, step four and a half and only started working recently.

“Also also,” Emma repeats. “Hamilton is a dated reference now. You need to keep up with the times. Don’t the kids know better things you can reference?” “Strangely enough, Swan, the students I’m teaching aren’t spending a lot of time keeping me up to date on the memes.”

It’s difficult to hold onto her when her laugh drifts closer to a cackle, hair, somehow, hitting him in the face when she shakes her head in disbelief of what he’s just said. And, well, that’s understandable – but he was mostly doing it to get her to laugh and that’s, like, at least ninety-two percent of the reason he does anything when it comes to Emma. That might be the most sentimental thing he’s ever thought.

It’s probably from hanging out with Mary Margaret so much.

“I can’t believe you just used the word meme in normal conversation,” Emma says, laughter still clinging to her voice and Killian wonders if she realizes her fingers are still moving.

He hopes not.

He’s a disaster.

“If you mention that I said that in front of Lucas, I’m going to kick you out of my apartment,” Killian warns. Emma laughs even more. “I’m almost entirely serious, Swan.”

“I know you are, but that was honestly the funniest thing that has happened to me in the last few months. And Ruby would never let you live that down.”

“This is exactly why I’m making pointed threats upon your person.” “You’d actually kick me out? Like physically?” “Not physically,” he says and he can’t shake his head either. Emma’s fingers are still in his hair. “I’d probably show off my incredible upper-body strength again and lift you out of the apartment. You’d be very impressed.” “You’re awfully confident,” she points out.

“Cautiously optimistic.” “Ah, well, that’s more acceptable.”

Emma takes a deep breath, like she’s trying to preserve the moment, but that may just be more slightly cautious optimism on Killian’s part. She hisses when he tries to reposition her weight, thighs bumping together and he knew she caught that skip a few days before, but she’d failed to mention anything about a bruise that would cause an audible outcry of pain in the middle of a very crowded airport.

“Swan,” he says sharply and suddenly she’s very interested in the ceiling. “What was that?”

She doesn’t respond, just keeps staring several feet above them and maybe step whatever of the schedule is them absolutely refusing to admit to things that mean several different worlds to them. Or, at least, Killian.

He hopes it’s not just hm.

He’s cautiously optimistic it’s not just him.

He needs to stop hanging out with Mary Margaret.

“How did you even know what time my flight was?” Emma asks instead, redirecting the conversation and Killian arches an eyebrow. “I really did think we agreed that I was going to take a cab and then meet you at Mary Margaret and David’s for opening ceremonies and then I’d go back with you when everyone was incredibly drunk.” “Except Mary Margaret.” “Yes, except Mary Margaret,” Emma agrees, but it sounds a little patronizing and this is the single best arm workout he’s ever had. “That’s also not an answer to the question.” “Ah, well, you know how much I enjoy bantering with you, Swan.” She narrows her eyes, huffing slightly and trying to work her way back onto the floor, but Killian’s got a pretty good grip on the back of her jacket and he’s fairly positive his arms have frozen anyway. “The question, Jones,” Emma mutters, tugging on the front of his shirt like that’ll get him to answer and not just add fuel to several different day-dream fires.

“You told me nearly two weeks ago. It pains me that you don’t remember that.” “Well that’s probably because you won’t let me stand up on my own.” “Hysterical.” “That was funny,” Emma argues, voice rising slightly. They’re starting to draw a crowd. The kid with the other, presumably less-ruined sign, is gone.

“My aforementioned promise of hysterical was only slightly sarcastic.” She rolls her eyes, letting her bag fall to the floor and it only just barely misses his right foot. “You really remembered me mentioning a flight time two weeks ago?”

The question is barely that, a mumbled string of letters and words and hope that seems to ricochet in between the minimal amount of space between them and Killian’s nodding before Emma even closes her mouth.

“Of course I do,” Killian says, another truth that’s a bit more important than anything else.

It had been late – it always seemed to be late when his phone rang and Emma called him an overprotective weirdo, but he liked to know when she got home and there wasn’t really anyone else in Chicago to make sure that she did. Neither one of them ever mentioned that.

She’d gotten the skip and a few days off and he could practically see her trudging through her apartment, toeing out of her boots and the mattress creaked when she landed on top of it.

“Don’t say anything about the mattress,” Emma had mumbled, words slurred and she cursed him to several different hells when he chuckled into the phone. “I’m going to sleep for days.” “I think you can do that, love.” It was another ancient nickname – even before Swan – and it had started as a slightly sarcastic jab before evolving into something potentially life-altering and neither one of them ever talked about that either. They were perpetually and incredibly bad at that.

They talked about everything else instead and he kept asking if she had any bruises or lacerations, because she always had bruises or lacerations after she caught another criminal, and Emma mumbled several increasingly creative insults about his blood pressure under her breath.

She mentioned Final Jam at some indeterminate point in the conversation, muttering about tickets and prices and it would be easier if I could just teleport there. It was enough to wake him up, blinking quickly and nearly falling off his couch and he invited her as soon as the thought landed in the front lobe of his brain.

Or wherever thoughts originated from.

“Yeah, ok,” Emma muttered and they’d both fallen asleep before they hung up the phone.

“Swan, did you honestly think I forgot that I told you to come stay with me?” Killian asks, wincing when he hears the sheet of paper in between them rip. “Ah, damnit. This whole thing is less impressive now.”

She’s biting her lip – teeth digging down like she does when she gets nervous and that’s ridiculous because they’re them and it’s Final Jam, but it’s been six years since that Final Jam and they need to come up with another word for final because it’s really just starting to sound fake and slightly abrasive.

Emma blinks, opening her mouth only to close it again and surprise isn’t an emotion that usually makes his stomach twist, but she looks genuinely stunned and that’s not really what Killian was going for.

“What was that?” she asks. “Did I just rip your coat because, agreed, that makes all of this less impressive and kind of depressing.”

“I’m incredibly confused by this line of questioning, love,” Killian admits, meeting Emma’s wide-eyed gaze with one of his own. “You’ve got answer one of mine before I answer one of yours. Those are the rules.” “Whose rules?” “Swan!” She flashes him a smile, some of the nerves forgotten in the name of, possibly, witty banter and Killian’s eyes threaten to fall out of his own goddamn face when Emma works her way back onto the ground. “I can’t believe you showed up here,” she mumbles, but there’s a note of absolute belief in it. “That’s nice. You know that’s stupid nice?” “Stupid nice is absolutely what was I was going for.” “Yeah, well, mission accomplished. I really didn’t rip your jacket?”

“You really didn’t rip my jacket,” Killian promises, bending down to grab the slightly worse-for-wear sign off the ground. “This, however, is a totally different story.”

Emma doesn’t gasp, but it sounds awfully close and her hand moves impossibly slow when she reaches out, fingers brushing over the side of the paper like it’s made of gold.

“You brought a sign too?” she whispers. “That is… God, that’s stupid.” “Stupid?” “Yes, stupid. And nice. Incredibly nice and I can’t believe you took the day off because you remembered when my flight was going to be.”

“I really only did it so you can brag about how great my driving skills are to David.”

She laughs – loud and easy and it does something absurd to Killian’s ability to keep breathing and not thinking about very specific things. “Yeah, I figured,” Emma smiles and, just like that, it’s normal and simple and them in the kind of way that it’s always been. “Does it count when your driving skills are only better because you’re breaking, like, seventy-two different laws?”

“It is nowhere near seventy-two.” “It’s way too close to seventy-two for comfort. And David drives like he’s eighty-six because he feels like he has to set an example for the city.”

“And because Mary Margaret’s pregnant and he drives even slower now.” “How is that possible?”

“Trust me, Swan,” Killian says, grabbing her bag and he didn’t notice she tugged her sign out of his hand. “It’s definitely possible. Even Mary Margaret was getting frustrated the other day.”

“You are lying straight to my face right now!” “Ask her later.” “She’ll lie in front of David.” “Ah, but you’ll be able to tell won’t you?” Emma blinks, tongue darting in between her lips and that’s only slightly distracting. They need to get away from the JetBlue arrivals gate. It’s clearly messing with Killian’s head. “Yeah, probably,” she admits. “Why were you in David and Mary Margaret’s car?” “If I say the words Final Jam prep out loud are you going to laugh uproariously?” “Yes.” “Then think of other words that also mean those words and that’s why.” Emma’s laugh seems to shake through her, smile wide and eyes bright and maybe it’s just everything about that weekend, but Killian should really stop lying to himself. He stumbles slightly when he feels arms around his middle, Emma’s head back on his shoulder – more like crashing into his collarbone, but he’s not going to be specific about the details.

She’s folded up the sign, he can see the bit of paper sticking out of the back pocket of her jeans and the whole thing does something absurd to his entire state of being and several different plans for his future and maybe this Final Jam will be the perfect Final Jam.

Or something that doesn’t sound nearly as absurd as that.

“I’m really glad I’m here,” Emma mutters and it sounds a bit like an admission of guilt or several different misdemeanors.

“That makes two of us, Swan.”

“And it really will be easier to stay at your apartment. Cheaper than a hotel.” “You can’t throw my own reasoning back at me. That’s cheating.” “Ah, I wasn’t aware of the rules of the conversation.” She rolls her eyes again, but there’s a hint of a smile on her face and people are starting to glance questioningly at them because they’ve been standing there for far too long.

He’s going to have to offer tutoring services to pay for parking.

“Plus,” Emma continues. “You’ve got super fancy coffee in your apartment. Way better than anything I could get a hotel. Because you’re a snob.” “Just because I refuse to dump half a packet of hot chocolate mix into my coffee every other hour does not make a snob.” “There are several things wrong with that sentence, but I am starving and this airport air is starting to give me a headache, so I will wait to explain all the reasons you are wrong until we get home.”

They both freeze as soon as that word sinks into their bloodstream – which is not the right way to phrase it, but Killian’s trying not to pass out or kiss Emma again, so, really, he’s not all that worried about the appropriate syntax.

He blinks instead, swallowing back the not-so-small sea of emotional and slightly romantic thoughts he’s been trying to avoid, smiling when he brushes his thumb over the curve of her cheek. “There’s plenty of coffee at home, love,” he says, hitching her bag up his shoulder and wrapping his free arm around her until he can practically feel the tension melt off her.

“Coffee snob,” she mumbles and it’s another truth and another thing and Final Jam has never felt more important.

Mary Margaret and David’s apartment is confusing. And not just because they’re definitely breaking some kind of fire code with all seven of them packed in the living room.

It’s like some kind of time capsule in there – for the past and the future. There are frames dotting every wall and a few shelves because Mary Margaret and David are the kind of people who decorate their bookcase shelves, moments captured in time and imitation wood.

Killian remembers most of them – and those he doesn’t entirely remember might be the most fun of all of them, but they’re adults now – and every single Final Jam memory is in one extra-large frame on the far wall.

He tries not to stare at it, but that works as well as ignoring Emma’s weight against his side, a head on his shoulder and she can’t complain about jet lag when she was only one time zone behind, but she’s done it six times already and they might have fallen asleep for twenty minutes on his couch that afternoon.

He’s like ninety-six percent positive David wants to ask about that. And only, like, forty-seven percent positive that he won’t.

There’s more than just frames, though – Mary Margaret’s got a Boston College blanket wrapped around her shoulders, announcing pregnancy does weird things to your body temperature when Ruby asked about it and there’s a sign touting a baseball game that Merida definitely stole when they were sophomores hanging on the wall. It’s a strange counterbalance to the, frankly, ridiculous amount of baby stuff everywhere, packages of diapers and containers full of bottles and whatever the proper name for the top of a bottle is and Emma sounded like she nearly choked when she walked into the kitchen to find a sonogram hanging on the refrigerator door.

“We were going to tell you,” Mary Margaret says, not for the first time and her voice is starting to shake a little bit.

She’s having a difficult time holding onto her blanket.

Emma nods  – or tries, at least, – but it just serves to brush her cheek over Killian’s shoulder and he’s not sure he entirely appreciates whatever look Ruby and David share.

Mulan keeps tapping on her knee, like she’s getting more restless by the moment and, possibly, looking for escape options.

Killian understands the feeling.

He wasn’t entirely prepared for the sonogram and all that that entails either. And he’s not entirely pleased to realize that his dominant reaction is one very specific and less-than-supportive emotion – jealousy.

It sits in the back of his mind and the pit of his stomach, making every inch of him ache, but, again, that may just be most of Emma’s weight leaning against his right side and his arm is kind of twisted awkwardly underneath her.

Killian shifts, both of them moving in the process, and Ruby’s attempt to control whatever noise she makes as soon as his lips brush over Emma’s hair fails woefully short. He glares at her.

“Do not look at me like that, Jones,” Ruby seethes, sitting up a bit straighter and they’ve always been very good at vaguely antagonistic banter.

Mulan sighs.

“I literally glanced your direction because you were making a questionable amount of noise, Lucas,” Killian argues. “Your throat doing alright after whatever it was that just happened?”

Her eyes, somehow, get more narrow, lips pursed and one very particular finger rising quickly – she hides her hand behind her back when Mary Margaret gasps. Killian grins.

“I think you’re about to get grounded,” he says, drawing a quiet laugh out of Emma and he doesn’t object when she swings her legs over his.

As if he’d ever.  

“That was actually kind of funny,” Merida mutters. She glances up from the phone that hasn’t stopped making noise since she knocked on the front door a few hours before and they’re incredibly behind schedule.

That may be half the reason for the look on Mary Margaret’s face.

“It happens occasionally,” Killian reasons. “You know, sometimes.”

Ruby doesn’t try to mask her laughter that time. “Yeah, you’re really selling it there. So, uh, what time did you land, Em? You look a little exhausted.” “Rude,” Emma mumbles at the same time Mary Margaret clicks her tongue in reproach and maybe the grounded joke wasn’t really a joke at all. “And I have this thing called a job--” “--I have a job!” “Eh.”

“Oh my God, look who’s being rude now. Mary Margaret, tell Emma I have a job.” “Do not call Mary Margaret to your defense,” Emma says, but her words still sound a little exhausted and Killian is still only slightly concerned about the bruise on her thigh. “And you have a job with vaguely normal hours that does not require manual labor.” “You don’t have to punch every skip you catch, Em,” Ruby grins.

Emma sighs, but Ruby’s got a point and the entire apartment knows it. The baby in that sonogram picture probably knows it. “Yeah, that’s fair, I guess,” Emma grumbles. “But I am only agreeing with you because I know we’re behind schedule and Mary Margaret looks like she’s close to tears because I freaked out about the baby.”

“I am not close to tears,” Mary Margaret argues, which is an oxymoron because Mary Margaret is incapable of arguing, particularly when her hands are resting on the slight swell of her stomach and Killian can’t think of a moment in the last five months when she hasn’t been absolutely beaming.

He’s so jealous he’s positive he reeks with it.

“Eh,” Emma repeats, Ruby snickering slightly and Merida takes a picture on her phone.

“It’s for Mac,” she explains. “Because you guys are weird about the Magnificent Seven rules.” “We’ve never once called ourselves that.” “Really? Why not? We definitely should be.”

“It’s not even clever,” Killian says, groaning when Emma uses her left elbow to push herself back up. Ruby glances at David again. “And the Magnificent Seven is historically inaccurate.”

The whole room groans collectively, Emma’s eyes bright when she turns to roll them at him and he has to blink to remind himself of all the reasons making out on Mary Margaret and David’s couch is fundamentally and completely wrong.

There’s like...two reasons.

“You are the most annoying person in all of history,” Emma says, like she’s reciting it from a script and the familiarity of it all is as easy and comfortable as it was to fall asleep on his couch.

They need to find somewhere else to sit than couches, apparently.

“Nailed it,” Mulan and Ruby call in tandem, Emma’s smile widening when she flicks her finger against Killian’s shoulder. He catches her around the wrist before she can do it fifty-four more times and Merida’s phone camera clicks again.

“What?” she challenges. “I’m going to call us the Magnificent Seven from now on. I don’t care about the history of it.” “Oh now you’ve done it,” Merida warns, but the phone makes another noise before Killian can even begin to describe all the reasons she is absolutely wrong.

“And,” Ruby adds pointedly. “It’s not like you aren’t going to see a shit ton of Mac from now on. That’s how living together works.” Killian blinks. “Wait, what?”

Merida blanches, mouth twisting into something that looks like a grimace and they’re never going to get to the location and event reveal portion of the night. “Oh, shit,” Ruby mumbles. “Did we not...I thought that was just general knowledge!”

“Not until this very moment,” Merida says and she is, thankfully, laughing, shaking her head in disbelief as Mulan mutters quiet apologies on behalf of Ruby. “And why exactly do you know? I’m fairly certain I only told Mulan about it because I was asking for suggestions about up and coming neighborhoods in the city.” Mulan clicks her tongue, another apology and Merida’s whole body shifts when she laughs again. “Well, whatever, we signed a lease on Monday,” she says. “It’s not big so none of you are ever invited over, but there are plenty of Airbnb options in New York anyway. This is my official announcement and reason number one through thirty-seven why Mac should have been allowed to come to Final Jam.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were looking for a place together?” Mary Margaret asks.

“Not that we would have let Mac come because we’re super cliquey,” Ruby mutters, a flash of a smile that boasts an almost wolf-like quality and Killian’s going to do something drastic if she doesn’t stop staring at David.

“Secret-keeping is apparently catching this Final Jam,” Emma says. She’s twisted so she’s, presumably, a bit more comfortable, but it’s also ended with her arm somehow around Killian’s shoulders and her fingers moving absently in his hair and if he dies right there on Mary Margaret and David’s couch he won’t be able to find a single thing to complain about.

Except maybe the lack of making out.

But that seems kind of selfish.

“We just wanted to do it all in person,” David continues and he sounds like a dad, a fact Killian mumbles under his breath in some misplaced effort to get Emma to laugh again.

She does.

It feels like a victory.

“More official that way,” Mary Margaret says softly. There are tears in her eyes. Emma looks slightly scandalized. “Because, uh…” Emma sits up straighter. “You’ve got to finish the sentence, M’s. And if you guys give us bad news during the opening ceremonies of the last Final Jam ever, I’m never going to forgive you or your inevitably adorable kid.” “Got your priorities straight, for sure,” Ruby mutters. Emma flips her off. They’re all a picture of mature and complete adulthood.

“Oh my God,” David sighs, but he stands up and it really does feel a little bit more official. Emma’s fingers might have a mind of their own. Or their own power source. They don’t stop moving, tracing over patterns that don’t really exist, but then they’re brushing over Killian’s actually neck and the collar of his shirt and he’s having trouble breathing.

David is still talking.

“It’s a girl,” he says, loudly and proudly and several other adverbs that Mary Margaret could probably recite in her sleep.

She’s clearly too busy trying not to cry though and, well, Killian understands. He exhales loudly, a burst of oxygen he’s sure his lungs would have appreciated holding onto a little while longer and Emma’s fingers still, everything about her going tense as soon as the words process.

Ruby gasps and Mulan mutters a genuine-sounding congratulations under her breath. Merida keeps taking pictures.

And David’s eyes haven’t left his couch – or away from Emma and Killian.

Emma moves first – of course she does, she’s a far better person than Killian and that’s only a slightly melodramatic thought, but it seems like that kind of day and he hopes it’s not a sign for the entire weekend. She stands slowly, like her muscles are having a difficult time obeying what her brain wants them to do, and he’s slightly surprised when her hand reaches back behind her.

She’s waiting for him.

Or, more to the point, she wants him to move with her.

And they’ve all been friends forever – even without the classic Hollywood nickname – but Emma’s the only one he has scheduled FaceTimes with and he’s seriously worried about her leg and she reads his lesson plans while she’s on stakeouts to make sure they’re not as boring as he’s constantly worried they are.

Playing Hamilton in his classroom two years ago had totally been Emma’s idea.

It’s different with them, always has been, because Mary Margaret and David were picture perfect before there were photos to put in picture frames and that one corner of Killian’s brain that seems to be reserved solely for thoughts about Emma Swan is working overdrive in the few seconds he spends staring at her outstretched hand.

He squeezes her fingers as soon he moves, thumb tapping lightly on the back of her wrist and Mary Margaret is practically sobbing.

“These are hormones,” she mumbles, dragging the back her hand on her cheeks.

Emma hums in understanding. “Of course they are. You keep using that excuse all weekend though and we’re going to make fun of you mercilessly for it. Just, you know, FYI.” “Shut up.”

“Of course, M’s, of course.”

There are more tears – Ruby and Merida both sniffling and resolutely denying it as soon as Killian’s eyebrows shift slightly – and Emma spends a few moments longer in David’s embrace, her forehead buried in his chest with his hand cupping the back of her head. And they all stare at the sonogram for nearly twenty minutes, passing around the piece of photo paper with careful hands and fingers that try not to leave smudges, coming up with name suggestions that grow increasingly more and more ridiculous the more alcohol they all consume.

Mary Margaret keeps refilling everyone’s glasses.

“Ok we are not naming her Eowyn,” she says, putting the now-empty Sangria bottle down on the coffee table next to the other three. That particular tradition started senior year – and might have been at least an eighth of the reason the rest of those moments during that Final Jam happened – all of them far too poor to buy anything except jugs of off-brand wine from the liquor store up the block from Emma and Mary Margaret’s apartment.

“That’s unreasonable, M’s,” Ruby says. “It’s pretty kick ass, not totally normal and everyone would fear your kid. Especially if there were any Witchkings of Angmar wandering around.”

“Oh my God.” “It’s better than Galadriel,” Merida laughs. “Or....what was the other one you were talking about, Jones?”

“Luthien,” he answers. “Of the epic poem Beren and Luthien.” “Yeah, no one knows who that is.” “She’s mentioned in the histories,” Emma mumbles and his widen enough that Killian hopes he hasn’t done permanent damage to his retinas. David chokes on his Sangria. “What?” she asks pointedly, but there’s a smile on her face and, possibly, a glint in her eye and Killian’s not sure if he’s drunk or just having some kind of life-changing moment.

It might be both.

“I listen,” Emma shouts and she’s moved at some point, half sitting on his thigh and half on the couch, fingers no longer in his hair. They’re tugging on the front of his BC alumni shirt instead.

“They don’t go into much detail on the histories in the movies, love,” Killian says. He ignores whatever his pulse his doing. And Ruby’s expression, like she’s taking inventory of every little hitch in his body whenever Emma moves. That’s not helping his pulse.

“That’s not true at all! Aragorn sings about them.” “What?”

“In the extended edition of the Fellowship,” David says, something that might be actual wonder his voice. “She’s right. On the way to Rivendell. Aragorn tells Frodo.” “I’m sitting right here,” Emma hisses. “Also I read. Sometimes.”

Killian’s having some kind of medical episode. He's certain. And, in the grand scheme of things, Emma knowing about a scene in the extended edition of Fellowship of the Ring should not be this surprising – but she’s also admitted to, maybe, reading the Silmarillion and maybe he isn't upset about the lack of making out if he just dies right now.

This is such a strange night.

“We’re not naming her Luthien either,” Mary Margaret says, seemingly picking up on whatever mental breakdown Killian is staging a few feet away from her. Ruby actually writes something down. “But! This is almost a good segue.”

“Into?” Ruby asks.

“Is this not the opening ceremonies?” “I honestly have no idea what’s happening right now if we’re being perfectly honest.”

“So this is me changing that,” Mary Margaret announces, swatting at David’s hand when he tries to help her out of her chair. She pulls a binder off the top of one of the questionable number of bookcases in the living room – papers perfectly piled and Killian’s not surprised to see there are dividers sticking out of the edge. Emma’s laughing against him. “Happy Final Final Jam,” Mary Margaret says, brandishing the binder like anyone has any idea what the hell she’s talking about.

“Are we supposed to know what’s in there?” Mulan asks.

“Oh my God, isn’t it obvious?” Five of them shake their head. David looks amused. That’s probably because he had to buy the dividers. “This is our official binder of plans and ideas and, aw c’mon, you guys all answered the e-mail!” “I thought that was just a joke,” Emma mutters and Killian doesn’t understand why she sounds slightly terrified. “You sent that to all of us?” “Of course I did. We decided this was probably going to be the Final Final Jam for, you know..” “The rest of our waking days?” “Don’t be dramatic,” Mary Margaret sighs, Ruby mumbling yes mom and Emma’s smile doesn’t quite shake, but it doesn’t look quite confident either. “For at least a little while. We’re pausing it and because of that, plus the ten-year anniversary of the original Final Jam, we are going to do as many fun things as we possibly can.” “Within reason,” David adds.

“At least I wasn’t that overprotective,” Killian mutters in Emma’s ear and he sees her smile widen out of the corner of his eye. It isn’t until about five minutes later that he realizes what he’s said or implied and he wonders if it’s possible for a heart to explode.

“Killian are you listening?” Mulan asks, Mary Margaret not able to reprimand him properly while she’s still monologuing.

“No,” he answers honestly. “Is there more Sangria?” David pushes another bottle towards him. “Don’t insult my ability to follow my wife’s schedule like that. And don’t drive to Fenway tomorrow. You’re never going to find anywhere park.” “You’re the one who doesn’t know how to parallel park.” “I do, too!” “Please, David, rehash for the class who got the ticket and caused the accident that one winter when we were juniors and you wanted to go to the North End for cannoli.”

“That was your fault! You said I had plenty of room.” “You were the one driving though.” “And listening to you. Plus there was a shit ton of snow everywhere. That shouldn’t count.” “Ok, ok,” Killian says, waving the one arm that isn’t wrapped around Emma through the air. “What about two years ago when we were trying to get to Beacon Hill because you wanted to go to that fancy restaurant with a Michelin star?” “Oh yeah, that’s true,” Mary Margaret agrees. “That was totally your fault, babe.” Killian laughs loudly, appreciating the slightly stunned look on David’s face. “Game, set, match.” “You do not get to shout antiquated clichés at me, Jones,” David yells, grabbing the Sangria back and taking a particularly long swig. “That is rude. And that guy way overreacted. I barely even nicked his car.” “God, remind me never to get in a vehicle with you, Detective,” Ruby says. “Do they know about your record at the precinct?”

“They’re required by law to know,” Emma laughs. “I do have a follow-up though. Why are all these incidents revolving around food?”

They spend a little more time walking down several different memory lanes, reading through Mary Margaret’s rather impressive and incredibly laminated schedule before her eyelids start to flutter and Merida’s curled up in the corner of the couch with a pillow under her head, Ruby taking photos of it on her own phone to send to Mac.

Emma’s eyes are looking a little heavy by the time Killian tugs her up, keeping an arm around her waist and muttering c’mon, love, let’s go home. He refuses to look at David before closing the door behind him.

And it’s not really that far back to his own apartment, but he didn’t drive and Killian is acutely aware of how close Emma is the entire time they’re on the T, head back on his shoulder and shoulders moving with the steady rise and fall of her breathing.

It’s easy. It’s comfortable. It is so goddamn normal it feels like he’s going to snap in half with the way his whole being wants it to be like this forever.

Or longer.

He’s not going to be picky.

It’s several different kinds of miracles that he’s able to get his key in the door while he’s supporting most of Emma’s weight at the same time, both of them stumbling into the apartment and nearly tripping over the bag she never actually moved into his room.

“You don’t have nearly as much stuff,” Emma mutters, catching him by surprise. He was half convinced she’d fallen asleep standing up.

“Were those the words you were looking for in that order, Swan?”

She levels him with a very particular type of stare – usually the final step in the Emma Swan and Killian Jones banter schedule and it’s taken them some time to get to that point, but it’s nice to finally reach some kind of destination – resting her hands on his shoulders and shaking her hair onto her back and maybe her eyes are getting greener.

He clearly should have taught biology. He’d probably know if that was possible then.

“Don’t try and tease me because you know I'm tired, it’s not nearly as cute as you think it is,” she says. Killian blinks. “I meant M’s and David. Your apartment’s looking a little sparse by comparison.” “Well I’m not preparing for the arrival of my first child, so…” “Why not?” “Excuse me?” Emma shrugs, like it’s not an impossibly large question or one they’ve ever actually had. There have been boyfriends and girlfriends on both sides, people they’d both complained about and talked about and some who they were certain were it in some kind of everything type of way, only to be wrong.

His ended with Emma flying to Boston and sleeping on his couch while he watched all three extended editions of Lord of the Rings in succession. She ordered him food from the Chinese place that had known their order by heart during undergrad.

And then they went to the swan boats and stared at the water and she promised it’d be alright.

Hers ended with Killian buying her a ticket and telling her to get to O’Hare and he picked her up at Logan then too, letting her fall asleep with her head on his thigh and several horrible 80s movies in the background. They ordered from a different Chinese place. It was better. They lamented all the time wasted.

And then they went to the swan boats and stared at the water and he promised it’d be alright.

They’ve never once talked about the hazy thing that is the future and Killian’s mind is quick to point out it’s because he’s been waiting, maybe a little desperately, for her to bring it up.

“I mean it’s a fair question, right?” Emma asks, but that feels like an even bigger question and Killian can’t remember any word in the entire English language. “I mean...you’re you and Mary Margaret’s probably tried to be Mary Margaret at some point, right?” He nods dumbly, only vaguely aware of what she’s suggesting. And he’s certainly tired of the set-up attempts because Mary Margaret’s intentions are good, but they’re also a little heavy-handed and Killian is definitely the third wheel on a cart that will soon also house a baby.

Or however that sentence goes.

“It’s not exactly something you rush into, Swan,” he says, another miracle that might be more impressive than unlocking the door was.

“No, no, I know that. I’m not saying go out and start having twenty-seven kids.” “Twenty-seven?” “Oh my God.”

Killian grins, some of the oxygen returning to his lungs and his brain and Emma rolls her eyes. He taps his thumb on the side of her jaw. “They’re going to get stuck that way, love,” he mutters, the endearment falling out of him without his explicit permission.

“You’re making that up,” Emma challenges, but she doesn’t question anything else in the sentence and Killian feels himself hoping against his will.

Cautiously optimistic.

“That is pure and complete scientific fact,” Killian says, pressing another kiss to her forehead and maybe that’s what Ruby was keeping track of. It’s definitely what he’s keeping track of. “And I’m perfectly fine as is, Swan. All that clutter would drive me nuts anyway.” “Can I please tell Mary Margaret that you called all her stuff clutter tomorrow?” “Why are you trying to antagonize me?” “I’m not, honestly,” she promises, moving to rest her palms flat on his chest. This is like some great, big giant test, he’s positive. With a Scantron. And he’s only got a mechanical pencil. It’s a very complicated metaphor.

“Please do not tell Mary Margaret that I called her stuff clutter while we’re trying to watch a Red Sox game tomorrow.” “I can’t believe David picked that.” “Can you not?”

Emma sags, a disgruntled sigh that might actually be the single most endearing noise he’s ever heard falling out of her. “Well, yeah, I can,” she says. “But he’s going to yell ridiculous things and everyone around us is going to hate him.” “Ah, but it’ll be a common bond between all of us. That’s fandom unity. And I bet we can come up with some pretty scathing insults about the Sox in the next few hours. As long as you promise not to fall asleep on me.”

“You don’t have to worry about my sleeping habits, you know.”

“If I don’t, who will?” At some point, it would be great if his brain would stop providing his mouth with sentiment and words he doesn’t want to give voice to yet – or, maybe, ever, he hasn’t entirely decided – but that does not appear possible and Emma’s eyes widen before she can school her features entirely. She licks her lips, a muscle in her jaw jumping when she clenches it and Killian tries not to scream apologies in her face, barely hearing her when she starts talking again.

“Probably anyone in that apartment before,” she whispers. “But you’re kind of at the top of the list. Leader of the pack or whatever.” “Are you quoting pop songs from the 50s to me?” “You’re the history genius, you tell me. You’ve got the leather jacket thing down. It felt like an appropriate reference.”

Killian hums, something that feels like warmth seeping down his spine, but that same, slightly problematic corner of his brain knows it’s something entirely different and, at some point, his hand has landed on Emma’s hips.

They’re far closer than he remembers being a few minutes before.

And it would be easy – that word losing some of its meaning because things weren’t always always easy with them, but they’ve grown up and evolved and he wants, so much he practically shakes with it. He could duck his head and kiss her or she could press up on her toes and kiss him and they could just keep doing that on some kind indefinite basis forever and ever for the rest of eternity.

So naturally both of them take a step back, shaky smiles and slightly obvious nerves and Emma’s shoulders shift when she takes a deep breath.

“I’d really like to come up with some scathing insults about the entire game of baseball,” she says, moving back towards his couch and Killian nods despite the voice in the back of his brain demanding he do the opposite.

“Sure, love.”

They fall asleep on the couch together, a notebook tossed on the table with two dozen increasingly absurd insults and the cast commentary of the Two Towers playing in the background.

[rajpersaud]

How To Think Like Shakespeare - Scott Newstok discusses his new book

Scott Newstok teaches literature of the English Renaissance as well as film, rhetoric, education, lyric poetry, and the humanities. In 2012 Professor Newstok received the Campus Life Award for Outstanding Faculty Member and in 2016 he received the Clarence Day Award for Outstanding Teaching. Before joining the Rhodes faculty in 2007, Professor Newstok earned his doctorate from Harvard University, taught at Oberlin College, Amherst College, and Gustavus Adolphus College, and held the Post-Doctoral Fellowship in the Humanities at Yale University Library′s Special Collections.

Dr. Newstok has published five books: a scholarly edition of Kenneth Burke′s Shakespeare criticism; a collection of essays on Macbeth and race (co-edited with Ayanna Thompson); a monograph on early modern English epitaphs; an edition of Michael Cavanagh's Paradise Lost: A Primer (CUAP 2020); and How to Think Like Shakespeare (Princeton, 2020). Newstok′s work has been recognized by grants and fellowships from the American Philosophical Society, the Folger Shakespeare Library, the Institute for Research in the Humanities, the Marco Institute, the Mellon Foundation, the National Endowment for the Humanities, the National Humanities Center, and the Newberry Library.

Newstok is the Founding Director of the Pearce Shakespeare Endowment and is a board member of Opera Memphis, Beth Sholom Synagogue, and the Libertas School of Memphis. He previously served as Co-Director (with Dr. Judith Haas) of Postgraduate Scholarships, Humanities faculty member of the Rhodes Board of Trustees, President of Rhodes′ Phi Beta Kappa chapter, and trustee of Humanities Tennessee, the state chapter of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

Prof. Newstok's Website

SELECTED PUBLICATIONS

Book projects

Orson Welles, Shakespeare, and Race, supported by a fellowship from the Folger Shakespeare Library

Duluth in Mind, on the place of the Zenith City within the American cultural imagination

Twinomials: "Residual Bilingualism and Philological Citizenship in English Renaissance Literature," supported by a fellowship from the American Philosophical Society

Books

How to Think Like Shakespeare: Lessons from a Renaissance Education (Princeton University Press, 2020).

"Insightful and joyful, this book is a masterpiece. It invokes and provokes rather than explains. It reminds rather than lectures. It is different than any book I have ever read. And it works. Drawing on the past in the best sense of the term, it reminds us that we are part of a long tradition. Few books make the case for liberal education as creatively as this one does."—Johann N. Neem, author of What's the Point of College? Seeking Purpose in an Age of Reform

"Ranging widely from the classics right up to the present with apt quotations, all in service of ideas we lose at our peril, How to Think like Shakespeare winningly blends respect for tradition with thoughtful steps toward a more equitable society. It is the work of a Renaissance man in both senses."—Robert N. Watson, author of Cultural Evolution and Its Discontents: Cognitive Overload, Parasitic Cultures, and the Humanistic Cure

    https://lithub.com/5-shakespeare-scholars-on-the-past-present-and-future-of-theater-amid-covid-19/

        5 Shakespeare Scholars on the Past, Present, and Future of Theater Amid COVID-19

In Honor of the Bard's 456th Birthday

  By Literary Hub

April 23, 2020

  It’s strange to think that on the day we began contemplating a roundtable to mark William Shakespeare’s 456th birthday, New York Governor Andrew Cuomo created a containment zone in the city of New Rochelle, formerly the epicenter of the state’s coronavirus outbreak. We were on the eve of the pandemic declaration and approaching the day Broadway would go dark for the first time since 9/11. It became apparent that just as the death toll would rise, so too would there be consequences for the social and cultural fabrics that bind us to one another.

Briefly, the prospect of a conversation centered on the Bard seemed, at best, like a convenient escape. But the following discussion, between five scholars who have devoted their careers situating Shakespeare alongside issues of performance, education, identity, partisanship and more, feels uniquely primed to our moment. It is an essential guide to the possible futures of our collective engagement with theater.

    Scott Newstok (author of How to Think Like Shakespeare) moderated this discussion with Emma Smith (This is Shakespeare), James Shapiro (Shakespeare in a Divided America), Jeffrey Wilson (Shakespeare and Trump), and Vanessa Corredera, who is currently at work on a book about adaptations of Othello. I hope you gain as much from their vibrant dialogue as I did.

–Aaron Robertson, Assistant Editor

*

Scott Newstok: I suppose we have to start with our inescapable moment: social distancing policies have led to cancellations of public gatherings, and we’re now all teaching remotely. Artistic companies have gone dark; some worry whether they can survive the coming months.

Are there any precedents for this fraught moment in theater history—whether in the UK, the United States, or elsewhere?

James Shapiro: If plague closures in Elizabethan and Jacobean England hold any lessons for us, it’s that theater is precarious, actors and companies are vulnerable. Many wonderful companies will go under, as talented ones did in Shakespeare’s day. Airlines are sure to get a bailout; I doubt that theaters will, though they will need it just as badly.

  Jeffrey Wilson: English theaters closed due to plague outbreaks between 1592 and 1594. So Shakespeare, as he was launching a career in drama, took some time to write poetry. That poetry was very dramatic, and his later drama very poetic. A lot of teachers with campuses closed due to the coronavirus are undergoing a different shift. They’re wondering how their physical classrooms will transfer into online settings. I’ll be very curious to see, six months from now, how our experiences with online teaching transfer back into our physical classrooms. 

    Emma Smith: It’s hard to imagine an equivalent. I’ve seen people comparing the situation in the UK to the situation during the Second World War, only for our seniors to say that they spent much of the war in theaters and dance halls. I’ve been interested to revisit the old chestnut about early modern companies releasing scripts for publication when the theaters were closed, in light of the National Theatre London and the Royal Shakespeare Company releasing their live screenings during the lockdown. 

Vanessa Corredera: I share concern over the vulnerability of the arts during this time, especially since the powers that be (at least for the moment) do not seem interested in what would be a modern version of patronage—by that I mean extending monetary and structural support to the arts. I also think our current situation continues to spotlight issues of access and theater. For instance, many people (my family included) cannot access Shakespeare on the stage on a regular basis because of prohibitions ranging from locale to time to finances. 

All of sudden, out of necessity, artistic institutions are turning to streaming, for which I and others are very grateful. This decision opens up a new audience for these performances. What remains to be seen is not only which institutions will be able to weather the storm, but also, how the effects of

  their changes in mode inform their decisions regarding audience and accessibility moving forward. 

  JS: I’d only add that King James I provided Shakespeare’s company with “a gift” in “the time of infection” when theaters were closed in early 1604, and then again in 1608, 1609, and 1610. We’ll see if the governments of Donald Trump and Boris Johnson will be as generous to the arts.

JW: Vanessa makes such a good point—this difficult episode has shown that artistic institutions have the desire, ingenuity, and infrastructure to use technology to make art freely accessible to people who aren’t able to make it to a show in New York or London. And wouldn’t it be wonderful to see initiatives like those continue after the current emergency subsides? But that costs money. I suppose the question is: Would it be possible to develop a born-digital version of the Public Theater’s Mobile Unit? A Digital Unit? 

JS: I work at the Public Theater and am closely involved with the Mobile Unit, which has had to put its upcoming and dazzling production of

  Cymbeline on hold. I can tell you that there are no plans for a born-digital version of the production, which tours prisons and other facilities in and around New York. But one thought I’ve had of late—as odd as it might sound—is to enlist actors who have already had the virus and have developed immunity so they can rehearse and create a taped version of a production and be poised to perform publicly once a vaccine makes it possible for the rest of us to attend shows safely.

  JW: Perhaps one historical analogy could be the world wars of the 20th century. A Google Ngram suggests that Shakespeare’s popularity declined—along with interest in other arts, I have to imagine—during the wartime years. But then the post-war periods saw big rebounds in interest in Shakespeare. Perhaps some post-war theaters might provide models for how today’s theaters can respond to the inevitable thirst for art, reflection, and human connection that will come after social distancing subsides. 

  ES: That’s so fascinating that interest in Shakespeare declined during those periods. I think that streamed theater productions will be wonderful for those who already include Shakespeare in their cultural life. For new audiences, it might not be as easy to make a space for those amid all the other digital offerings.

    Most likely begun in the plague-free summer or autumn of 1605, King Lear was almost surely not written during an outbreak of plague.

SN: You all have probably seen social media posts along the lines of “When Shakespeare was in quarantine, he wrote King Lear” (some citing Jim’s The Year of Lear). There’s cold comfort in recalling that some artists have flourished during prior outbreaks. What other kinds of solace can we derive reading Shakespeare now? 

JS: It’s maddening that my book was misread in that way. Most likely begun in the plague-free summer or autumn of 1605, King Lear was almost surely not written during an outbreak of plague (though Lear horrifically calls Goneril a “plague-sore”). What I actually wrote was that the return of plague in late 1606 led to theater closures, and a remarkable season at the Globe—that included

  King Lear, Macbeth, Volpone, and The Revenger’s Tragedy—ended prematurely, once weekly plague deaths rose to above 30 or so. 

  That said, all of Shakespeare’s Jacobean plays, from Measure for Measure through Coriolanus, were written during or not long after yet another outbreak of plague, which struck London repeatedly (if not always as punishingly) from 1603-10.

ES: It’s interesting that “solace” hasn’t really been what we have looked for in Shakespeare—or in literary texts more generally—for some time. I remember A.D. Nuttall saying something in the preface to Why Does Tragedy Give Pleasure to the effect that we used to praise work by saying it was comforting, but now the greatest praise is to say it is discomforting, or something similar. 

    And now that we need solace, perhaps we will need to return to some less disquieting interpretations of the plays. The great solace I think we could get is the solace of concentrating over something knotty and rewarding. Most people I know feel their ability to focus has been really challenged by the current circumstances. 

VC: While I love Shakespeare, I don’t think his works are particularly unique in their ability to provide solace, at least not any more so than other literature that may speak to our affective needs right now. If we are even seeking solace—which Emma interestingly challenges—the beauty of Shakespeare’s language might provide it, but so might the familiarity of the barnyard animals as I read Charlotte’s Web each night to my son, or the complexity people experience upon finally reading that long novel they’ve been putting off. 

    SN: All of you have worked with digital mediations of Shakespeare, whether Emma’s podcasts, Jim’s recorded lectures, Vanessa’s scholarship on Serial, or Jeff’s extensive online resources. What’s one bit of advice you would offer about teaching remotely? 

ES: It doesn’t need to be perfect. And it doesn’t need to be synchronous—that adds stress with technology. Recording things people can play in their own time has worked for me. 

VC: I agree with Emma. Also, since we lose community by being asynchronous, lean into online experiences that help form virtual communities. Encourage students to engage with these digital meditations of Shakespeare—like Patrick Stewart reading Shakespeare’s sonnets—and then participate in an online forum, thoughtful debates in comments, or a Twitter discussion (like #ShakeRace). 

JW: Vanessa’s point about the possible loss of community is so important. It’s been a big challenge for me. I’ve tried to think very deliberately about how to maintain those connections that students make in the little conversations before class, and the fun we have when we jump into an impromptu performance of a scene. They’re called “plays” for a reason: this is supposed to be fun. I’ve found it vital to spend valuable class time developing those moments and using things like group chats to keep the energy of the course strong. 

    SN: Parents are improvising schooling at home. Any suggestions for helping children engage with Shakespeare beyond their conventional classrooms? 

ES: I admire anyone who is improvising schooling as well as everything else right now, and I’d say, do what’s fun. That might be watching movie versions, or acting out scenes with Lego figures, or learning speeches to show off. I think we need to take whatever advantages there are here, but not to be overambitious! 

VC: As someone trying to homeschool and work right now, helping children engage with Shakespeare is not really on my radar! That said, my kindergartener is now around my work much more, which gives me an opportunity to explain who Shakespeare is and what he wrote or to pause a movie or clip and explain more about Shakespeare when he asks about what I’m doing. 

    JS: One of the initiatives we’re undertaking at the Public Theater is the Brave New Shakespeare Challenge. Every week a new passage will be posted, and we’re encouraging everyone—starting with schoolkids—to share a link with their performance of that speech, poem, or scene. It’ll be fun, and a necessary break from the boredom of quarantine.

VC: James, this sounds like a great initiative! 

SN: Shifting gears, Shakespeare is, exceptionally, the only author named in the Common Core. As secondary school curricula increasingly focus on contemporary prose, Shakespeareans find themselves in a discomfiting position: we teach a figure who is sometimes the solitary pre-20th century poet on the syllabus. Which of Shakespeare’s peers do you wish were assigned more often? (I, for one, love assigning Christopher Marlowe’s deceptively simple “

  Come Live with Me” ballad.) 

  It’s impossible to know what the world will be like in a year or so, once we’re all vaccinated for coronavirus. But it seems likely that theaters will suffer, schools and universities too.

ES: I also love “Come Live With Me”. Texts I enjoy—and my students too—include revenge tragedies by Thomas Kyd (The Spanish Tragedy) or Thomas Middleton (Revenger’s Tragedy). John Webster sometimes makes it onto our high school curriculum in the UK—some A Level students here study Duchess of Malfi. 

JS: Emma’s list dovetails with my own. I’d only add John Donne.

VC: Some of my non-Shakespearean favorites to teach are The Spanish Tragedy, almost anything by Marlowe (last term, it was Dr. Faustus), The Duchess of Malfi, and Elizabeth Cary’s The Tragedy of Mariam. I wish they were taught more so that we could see the different ways authors in the Elizabethan and Jacobean eras approach the same topics (revenge, race, gender, etc.), as well as identify the ideological and social concerns to which they return. 

    SN: Vanessa, you’re writing a book that examines adaptations of Shakespeare’s Othello. How did Shakespeare’s “Moor” come to be “American,” yet also “Global”? 

VC: In an essay on teaching Othello, Francesca Royster notes that it has become the play for thinking about race and Shakespeare in America. I think that’s because Othello taps into long-standing American stereotypes about black masculinity that a wide range of scholars on race in America identify. The work of Joyce MacDonald, Ayanna Thompson, and Robert Hornback, for example, shows how burlesque and blackface versions of Othello were key to reifying these stereotypes of black masculinity during Reconstruction. Othello is angry (the Brute), he endangers and then murders white femininity, and by the end of the play, he threatens the white social order (the Nat). I’m interested in thinking about what has to happen to Othello to make it an anti-racist play.

In Citing Shakespeare, Peter Erickson also calls Othello Shakespeare’s global emissary, pointing to the way the play and character speak beyond America. Issues of race, otherness, religion, and anti-blackness aren’t distinctly American problems.

  Ambereen Dadabhoy’s and Dennis Britton’s respective work, for instance, aptly highlights the importance of religion, specifically Islam and issues of conversion, when intepreting Othello. I don’t want to suggest that Othello’s narrative is universal so much as it’s easily adaptable. As Kim F. Hall remarks regarding Othello, “one of the gifts Shakespeare gave us is the ability to use his texts to talk about the modern world,” including issues of race, sexuality, and status that appear in the play. 

  JW: Vanessa, if you were to swap a scholarly hat for a creative one, how might you do Othello to achieve that anti-racist aspect that you describe? 

VC: I get asked this question so often, and I think I always provide such haphazard and inadequate answers. My responses reveal my vexed relationship to this play. The most hope for an anti-racist version of Othello, I believe, remains with creators willing to let go of Othello almost entirely. One example is Keith Hamilton Cobb’s American Moor. In the play, the unnamed African American actor auditioning for the role of Othello weaves together the threads of Shakespeare and authority, race in America, and the problems with American regional theater (among other topics) into a provocative, hopeful dialogue with the director he’s auditioning for, and the audience itself. 

    SN: Jeff, I know that in addition to your recent book Shakespeare and Trump you’ve been thinking about Shakespeare and stigma. Where do you find overlaps across your projects?  

JW: Literary works create contact zones for conversations spanning the centuries from the early modern period to today. Shakespeare—as both written text deeply shaped by the classical tradition, and living performance often acted and adapted today—is the most obvious example. Under a banner of better living through historicism, I study the past to better understand today’s ethical and political questions. Sometimes that means historicizing the modern manifestations of early-modern literature, as in Shakespeare and Trump. Other times it means using modern ideas to unpack early-modern texts and traditions, as in the “Stigma in Shakespeare”

  project. 

  VC: Jeff, could you speak to what you see as at odds between historicism and presentism in Shakespeare studies? 

JW: Perhaps it goes back to Ben Jonson’s statement that Shakespeare was “not of an age, but for all time.” Shakespeare’s works—as both very old printed texts and plays often performed today—call for both historicism (“of an age”) and presentism (“for all time”). A historicism that doesn’t account for the present is as limited as a presentism that doesn’t account for the past. And this dynamic, which grows organically out of the multi-temporality of Shakespeare, provides a model for other fields of humanistic scholarship.

SN: Jim, you close Shakespeare in a Divided America with a guarded statement about Shakespeare’s future, which, you write, “seems as precarious as it has ever been in this nation’s history.” Have the crisis developments allayed or amplified your fears? 

In times of crisis, we tend to neglect Shakespeare’s poems in favor of his plays, which (rightly or wrongly) appear more readily amenable to contemporary concerns.

    JS: It’s impossible to know what the world will be like in a year or so, once we’re all vaccinated for coronavirus. But it seems likely that theaters will suffer, schools and universities too. Colleges will close, faculties will likely be downsized. When that happens, the study and performance of Shakespeare will suffer too. It would be nice to imagine people emerging from self-isolation eager for culture, but without government support, it’s likely that few companies will be back on their feet anytime soon.

  VC: I agree that it would be great if people emerge eager for culture, and I think they might! But if economic resources aren’t evenly distributed, and there’s no reason to think they will be, then the divide in America may only deepen, and the arts will be affected by that. 

JW: Jim, more broadly, could you predict the future for us: “what’s past is prologue,” etc. How might some of Shakespeare’s plays interact with the issues likely to exacerbate partisanship in America in the coming years—climate crisis, automation, tax code, public education, etc.? Any Shakespearean resonances you see?

    JS: I recently taught the opening scene of Coriolanus to my Columbia students and I couldn’t help imagining, while doing so, a grim future in America in which—given the scarcity of resources—protests and violence were once again a defining feature of our culture. Anyone who imagines higher education and the arts in America won’t be diminished for years to come will have to persuade me otherwise.  

SN: Emma, Shakespeare’s works seem prone to being “weaponized” in the US cultural sphere. Does such weaponization function differently in the United Kingdom?

ES: I learned so much from Jim’s book, and as I was reading it I wondered whether things would be similar in the British context. It’s been interesting to see in recent years the role of performed Shakespeare in ideological debates about so-called “color-blind” casting, or in arguments over casting women in male roles. Because it touches on ideas of cultural propriety, the question of who gets to perform Shakespeare may be our version of the weaponization that Jim interrogates so brilliantly.

    SN: In times of crisis, we tend to neglect Shakespeare’s poems in favor of his plays, which (rightly or wrongly) appear more readily amenable to contemporary concerns. Let’s conclude on a lyrical note: what’s your favorite Shakespearean sonnet, and why? What do you cherish about its formal details?

ES: Confession time: I find Shakespeare’s sonnets alienating. Difficult, yes, but that’s not the problem. To me they are just a touch onanistic—solipsistic, rebarbatively masculine. The space I find for myself or for alternative voices in Shakespeare’s plays I struggle to find there. I’ve been rereading Venus and Adonis, and thinking about it as the signature work for Shakespeare during his own lifetime. 

JW: I do a PSA in my classes every Valentine’s Day: be careful giving your beloved one of Shakespeare’s sonnets

   because they’re a lesson in toxic love. Nowhere is this better captured than in the lines that open Sonnet 138: “When my love swears that she is made of truth, / I do believe her, though I know she lies.” 

  That also captures the follow-the-leader partisanship we see right now in America, and later in the sonnet Shakespeare gives a good gloss of the audience that enables post-truth politics: “Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue: / On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed.” The closing couplet is a searing takedown of willful self-delusion—whether it’s in love or in politics: “Therefore I lie with her and she with me, / And in our faults by lies we flattered be.”

VC: At the risk of seeming much more sentimental than Emma or Jeff, I have a soft spot for Sonnets 29 (“When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes”) and 73 (“That time of year thou mayest in me behold”). 

I remember reading these sonnets in one of my first college English classes and being struck by the beautiful language of love and community in Sonnet 29, and the stunning imagery in Sonnet 73. As a novice major, I was excited that I could understand that symbolism! I’ve come a long way in my training and thinking, but those sonnets stay with me for very affective reasons. 

    JS: The Public Theater initiative I mentioned earlier just posted Sonnet 29 as its first selection, with Phylicia Rashad reciting it in English, Raúl Esparza in Spanish, and Steve Earle doing a beautiful musical version. If anyone is interested, add your own version!  

Check out this episode!

[smashpanda]

Ani-Me #13: Groovin’ To That COWBOY BEBOP (Ep. 1-13)

Welcome to Ani-Me! The Series Where You Make Me Watch Anime! To be clear, you aren’t making me do anything because I have enjoyed every bit of this so far.

And surprise, nerds! Look what I’m doing! Haha, I actually had this whole fun plan to do the anime poll and then Ozymandias-style be like “I already WATCHED THE WHOLE SHOW!!!” But it would take too long to finish watching all of it (it’s been a busy as hell month). Besides, I got half way through the show and decided that was definitely enough space to really dig into how I was feeling about the start. So without further ado, it’s time for…

Today’s Entry: COWBOY BEBOP (1998-1999)

So, I’m doing this because I felt like I needed to have reckoning with this show.

That’s because I actually tried watching it once before. This was about 10 years ago. An old friend thought it was positively insane that I had never seen it before. He wasn’t the first to sing its praises either. Even at the time I was open to the idea and gave it the old college try for a bunch of episodes, but… it didn’t take. I think I was mostly crashing up against the proverbial rocks of all those tangible details I was not prepared for. Which were really just the kinds of things that had kept me out of anime for so long. Like the facial contortions being so different from western animation. Or the way this particular story seemed to fixate on cool posturing in a way that likely would have more appealed to me during my teenage years. Heck, I was even wondering why there was a romantic, emotional pop song at the end (again, I had REALLY not seen a lot of anime). Then there was that very complicated issue of “fan service,” because I was watching with someone who was like WHY ARE HER BOOBS ALL OVER THE FUCKING PLACE!?!?! Simply put: they were really not having it. Plus the fact that we were watching the dubbed version, which felt like it played into a number of sexist tropes. So much of this was the problem with my initial experience.

But I imagine anime fans are so fucking tired of these kinds of complaints from outsiders, no? Hell, even just a year into this column series, I’m tired of them, too. But here’s the thing: these complaints are the common obstacles for outsiders and some are not without merit. And as much the casual dismissal from outsiders about anime can rankle, it’s also important to remember how it is for the outsiders - to realize how much of that anime-fan tiredness manifests online in the forms of equally-casual dismissals (mostly from toxic white dudes) for “not getting fan service,” etc. Point is, misunderstanding and excuse-making can go in a lot of directions. And honestly it was all part of the system of why I think I stayed away from anime for so long?

Thankfully, everything’s about timing.

So much of this column series has been about throwing myself in the deep end, getting used to the cinematic language, knowing the filmmakers, and growing comfortable with the cadence of a particular form. But honestly, I think so much of it has to do with just being much older, too. Basically, I calmed the fuck down. The previous things that bothered me are still there, but it just feels like so much less of a big deal. Even “the rules” of what I tend to believe about storytelling are so much more expansive. As they say, finally “I’m not young enough to think I know everything.” Along with that, there’s the popular online joke that something “hits different,” but coming back to Cowboy Bebop after a decade… it hits different. Like I said, timing is everything. Which brings us to another reason I really wanted to do this now…

So John Cho goes to my grocery store a lot.

A little while ago I saw him in full Spike hair and it was rad as hell.

So I’ve also been thinking a lot (read: too much) about how to cover Anime TV. Ideally, I like the idea of doing one giant essay about a series, but sometimes 1) overall thoughts don’t take on essay-like form the way they did with, say, Evangelion. And 2) that sometimes takes out the fun of talking about little things in each episode. But at the same time, I don’t want to feel the need to do the FULL RECAP thing with every episode, which sometimes bogs down the more important thoughts / gets repetitive (I felt like I ended up doing that with a lot of Korra recaps). So really, it’s going to be a case by case basis. And for Cowboy Bebop, I decided on a sort of “fly casual” approach with no plot recapping - just the evolution of my thoughts along with some other random passing ones. And it will all likely crest into big overall thoughts that will come with the end of the series.

Cool? Cool.

1. ASTEROID BLUES

“Oh, this is good, isn’t it?”

I said this to myself while watching and I simply cannot explain the difference the subs make for me personally when it comes to this show. Like I know the dub has a lot of fans and history, but everything about hearing the show in Japanese just plays stronger to me. The rhythm, the cadence, and most of all the timing of jokes. There’s just this way each of their voices better line up with the droll affectation of the show. Combine that with me finally being used to a lot of anime’s particularly cinematic language? The show just plays so FUNNY now. Like I’m laughing out loud four times an episode. But that’s not the only thing that’s changed.

When I tried watching a decade ago, there was also this funny thing where I was having a very different relationship to the cinematic affectations of the late 90’s. Like how much of this episode reflects the El Mariachi / Desperado machismo that defined a certain kind of posturing coolness. Back then I worried a lot about that specific brand of indulgence. But now it all feels so silly and playful (as if, at the time, I wasn’t so much reacting to the worry of that coolness as how much the me of TWO decades would have eaten it up). Like I was the perfect age when this show came out the first time.

But I think that’s the real thing that hits me now with the episode: how playful it all feels. Like the absurd shot of the woman leaning on the counter to drink beer, the cat drinking all the crap on the ground, the sole motive of wanting beef, and Spike fitting a whole sandwich in his mouth. It takes none of these things seriously - except when it takes them seriously, of course. The episode’s structure is really built around the two bait and switches. The first is the fun fake pregnancy where it turns out that’s where she keeps the vials. And the second - tragic, with her death. Fast. Brutal. Forlorn. From minute one it’s sort of spelling out the tonal nature of this show: the fast loose hijinks > serious comeuppance > the Sisyphean process of bounty hunting without success… But hey, at least they got that beef.

It’s an apt metaphor.

2. STRAY DOG STRUT

In my original go round, I remember this being the episode liking this enough to stick with it longer. But now it plays even better. It’s kind of a classic fun and games episode, with the great set-up for the dog reveal - and the classic “lose but kinda win” ending a la Santa’s Little Helper (along with the dramatic irony that the dog is worth millions). I think I actually referenced this two columns ago, but there’s this kind of “kafka-esque’’ funny edge to the show. That “there is hope, but not for us” sentiment that populates a show of lovable losers trying and failing to navigate life’s absurdity.

But what I also like is that it’s not from a complete lack of competence. The gag where they both look up from the aquarium and Spike’s already got the gun drawn? That’s perfect stuff. Same goes with Spike absent-mindedly missing Abdul because he has shit on his foot. Both help establish this incredibly enduring character that thrives on both confidence and a genuine lack of awareness (which is often how he is able to pull a fast one on the audience, too).

The episode also helps clarify the show’s setting of an American Cultural Diaspora, filtered through the lens of Japanese culture. Could the Abdul stuff read as problematic? Oh absolutely, but the Game of Death / Way of the Dragon reference is also so singular to Kareem Abdul Jabbar’s influence that I’m not sure how much intention exists from the creators outside of it. And for an episode that delivers hijinks like Spike stealing the “just married” car and the incredible sound cue / animation of the corgi slapping onto the hood of his ship… I can’t help but smile.

3. HONKY TONK WOMAN

Ahhhhhh Faye Valentine. It’s funny, I wont say that I’m “used” to fan service at this point, nor really have any interest in excusing its extreme nature… I’m just sort of not letting it stop me from engaging everything around it? Does that make sense? But once again, I can’t explain just how much original language helps her character specifically. Megumi Hayashibara has this kind of wonderfully bored, disinterested tone that fits the characterization better.

The other thing that really hit with this episode was the James Bond-ness of the series (I mean in this gambling-centric episode drrr). But it’s the riff on the silhouettes in the opening titles, the pastiche of cool, and again, I keep coming back to that late 90’s disaffection that falls in line with Bond’s unruffled ethos. To wit, there’s a reason young men like disaffected characters, of course. In that it’s just as much of a power fantasy as so many other things are. They have all these budding, confused emotions and life feels so uncontrollable, so it becomes easy to grasp onto characters who play it cool, who show suaveness and are unbothered by the ups and downs going around them. Of course they want to be like that.

Which would normally be a possible “indulgence problem” if this show wasn’t also so keen on taking the piss out of Spike and company. That’s the thing: it’s just so damn playful at the same time. Unlike something Bond-esque, it’s always looking to make Spike the punchline. And the twisty, confusion-laden plots of chip-swapping and rubes and one one-ups-man-ship? I cackled constantly. And I have to say the fight in this one is so, so good. And the last line?

“Bye” … chef’s kiss… is… is that thing the kids still say?

insert grandpa face

4. GATEWAY SHUFFLE

It’s probably weird that THIS is the thing that most stands out to me, but it’s weird how much Twinkle reminds me of “Mom” from Futurama, right down to her large adult sons. I also like how much the episode plays with the dramatic irony of Spike and company being totally oblivious idiots (which will be a running gag), especially them on the verge of killing themselves with the virus. Also also, it establishes the sheer volume of problems that Spike fixes with sleight of hand. Also also also, there’s the fact that this episode is where Faye joins the team for good, thus setting up the fun larger team dynamics.

Is it weird that I don’t have much more to say about this one? It sort of reflects the way some Bebop episodes just feel slight in a way, which isn’t to say they aren’t fun or don’t have good gags. It’s just sort of the nature of this show, sometimes. Cause you’ll get an episode like this and then the next time you’ll get… Well, you’ll get an episode like…

5. BALLAD OF FALLEN ANGELS

“Who is this Sephriroth mother fucker?!?!?”

Such is the way I noted the entrance of Vicious. Given the overlapping timeline, I’m guessing there was something about long gray haired evil dudes with big swords in the water? Either way, the far more obvious influence on this one is John Woo. There’s the gunplay. The cathedral. The operatic posturing. It all brings me back to a place and time so vividly. That place and time being a teenager in the 90’s with a camcorder, boy, I can’t tell you how often we ran around with toy pistols diving off to the side and putting it in slow motion (we could never seem to find doves, but were always on the hunt for a group of pigeons to run through). This instinct also highlights the potential problems with these tropes. It would be SO easy for this to be nothing more than juvenile posturing / copying an en vogue aesthetic, but - as I’m learning is common for this show - Cowboy Bebop kind of hits this different note entirely…

Mostly thanks to the score. Because it all comes back to that ending with the haunting chorus of Green Bird, which gives me an array of complex feelings (along with it being a song I’ve had in my head for weeks now). On a pure aesthetic level, the scene is perfect. The pure combination of image, sound, and symbolism to hit an emotional response so squarely. A decade ago I felt this moment was more about hiding the story in a way - as if teasing backstory instead of even showing it - which isn’t entirely wrong, but now it feels more economical than anything, merely touching a lot I can have patience that will be dealt with . And more important than the specifics is understanding what it means to Spike emotionally - how much Vicious is part of his life and lost love and injury and pain, the cycles of opera and birth death rebirth death that all fit the same lyrics to the song…

“Spring has come

Worms are showing their faces

Little birds are eating them

Spring has come

Children are going to school

Farm dogs are giving birth to puppies

Spring has come

Women are looking in mirrors

Egg pies are baking”

In short, I understand why it’s a classic.

6. SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL

It’s here I realize that writing about Cowboy Bebop is a bit counter to my general instincts. For I’m someone who likes digging into problems because it helps me understand things. With Korra or Falcon and The Winter Solider or something, I can stop, dig into the structural problems of a given episode, talk about approach, and feel like everyone was coming out the other side with a bigger understanding. I get that sense of purpose. But what’s odd about this show is everything is incredibly sound on the writing front. Every weekly “session” gives us a contained, thoughtful, playful little story with little differing nuances (it actually reminds me a lot of the Lone Wolf and Cub story structure, which yes, I’ve read all of by the way). And it’s no different with this episode (which also reminded me a bit of the ventriloquist dummy episode of Buffy?). There’s even so many really great things that stand out. Like this is the first episode where Faye really clicked for me (the gag where she casually eats the dog food is an all-timer). I also loved the kid getting Last Crusade-ed at the end.

But the “what makes us care” is a whole other ball of wax. Because this was the last episode I watched in my initial trial a decade ago. There wasn’t any big reason I stopped, just that simple lack of interest. And I think it speaks to the trouble of telling stories about disaffected characters. The whole idea is that they’re often hiding pain or interest or backstory or whatever else. Then the idea is you’re slowly supposed to peer in (and I’m far enough into the show to know how they do that). But if you’re not really all in on a character’s emotional journey from those critical starts? Sometimes it’s hard to work up that investment. If I was watching this as a teenager in the 90’s? I would likely have a whole different feeling because I’m watching in more of an aspirational sense. But watching an episode like this, from where I am now? I understand why it’s easy to feel a lack of connection, even when the boy is giving all the tears about the release of death… It feels like an emotion on display, a thing I’m looking at, but kept a distance from - and thus a harder thing to certainly feel.

7. HEAVY METAL QUEEN

For shits and giggles I watched this one with dub. It’s interesting because it instantly reminded me that part of the reason I like subs so much is it needs your undivided attention. With the dub? Suddenly my eyes could wander, sometimes to twitter sometimes and then I’d realize I missed something and rewind a second. In that capacity the subs are actually allowing for more distraction? Which is why 1) I worry that most shows seem designed to be watched with someone half paying attention and 2) I tend to watch things sans phone as much as possible. Look, it’s not that this multitasking activity is “bad” inherently. I love listening to podcasts as I cook or clean. It’s just with cinema it’s so easy to do and miss out on what I really want to be doing. Which is being enveloped in a story.

Anyway, I’m more or less good with this episode. I wish I had more to say than that. But once again I feel like I’m coming out of an episode with an “okay, that was solid” feeling. Perhaps because also plays into 90’s dated-ness in a way where all the things that should feel modern feel just so… heteronormative? I dunno. It’s like VT feels like a character I should be adoring, but with 20 years she feels like a half-measure. And even at the time, it’s really hard to get past the dude in the sombrero ogling the waitress who looks like lady liberty. Like, the gross metaphor is utterly clear, and not in a way where it’s countering it on any level. But there’s always those moments of elation, like Spike firing his space gun to better direct himself back - that make the show still feel special.

8. WALTZ FOR VENUS

So this is the first episode I unequivocally loved.

Perhaps it’s just because it does some of my absolute favorite writing things. Like, hurray! They finally got paid! But true to understanding their ethos, it happens almost immediately in the opening, thus setting up proper expectations for what is to follow. And then it does my absolutely favorite thing, which is make you absolutely care for a character you hate without realizing that’s what it’s doing. Roco at first comes off as annoying, jealous, brash, etc. But with time and perspective, the eagerness ends up being motivated. And the way it all crests into him using the “like water” teachings of Spike’s supernatural reflexes? Perfect moment!

And then he gets fucking shot.

I literally screamed NO in my living room. But that’s what good writing does, it takes you through journeys subtlety then knocks you on your ass with whiplashing emotion (I also realized this entire beat, right down to the thumbs up in the middle, happens in Mad Max: Fury Road). And what’s more is that even on death’s door stop, all his eagerness and wonder could be summed up in that youthful question: “Hey, if I knew you earlier, would we have been friends?” Gah, it’s just gutting. And so absolutely perfect in its dramatic articulation.

With this kind of competent writing on the “fun / plot” level, it’s also funny how much I remember the little details that the show is so good at. Like the use of the Hagia Sophia on Venus. Or the way the rich guy shouts to save himself and then gets his toupee knocked off.

… And then there’s those super gay panic 90’s details like shoving the gun in gay man’s throat that make my skin fucking crawl. As good as things can be, those ugly shadows loom large.

9. JAMMING WITH EDWARD

I love that they finally get around to explaining why earth sucks and everyone is in space in episode 9! This is also one of those episodes where the cyberpunky-ness of a rogue A.I. would play more fresh back in the late 90’s? By now it’s just hard to grab onto, given how many times we’ve seen this plot done again and again. But thankfully, the show has the complete dignity to continue its tradition of being playful instead of serious, in that MPU is a little freaking weirdo whom I am glad escapes.

I sort of don’t know what to make of Ed yet? I like certain affectations and weirdness, but I’m hoping it crests into something interesting. Otherwise, most of my notes cater around very specific reactions to moments. Like how Nazca lines were just in my trivia league! Or how the episode had huge Android: Netrunner vibes! Also a Summer Wars-like internet world! And great quotes like “there’s nothing made on earth that’s good” and paying it off with the cheap missile firing a dud.

But I also just want to mention lines like, “I hear that that hacker is gay hahaha” which I want to come back to because I don’t think is just a “Japanese culture” thing. That’s a “90’s gay panic” thing. And what’s important to talk about with these moments is that I don’t handwave them now as being dated and in the past. Because they weren’t “the past” for me. They were what I lived in. And revisiting it all from where I am now makes me FURIOUS. That’s because they were all part of a gay panic culture of the 90’s than gave me so many internal complexes and fears about being bisexual (I didn’t understand that’s what I was, really, I was mostly terrified I was gay and thought it would literally get me killed) and bunch of other stuff. It was just brutal. And I spent that entire decade around all this kind of media being like “hahahhahaha no big deal, right guys?” and I didn’t realize inside it was just tearing me apart - in the worst sense of making me deeply afraid in myself. It wasn’t the past, it was hell.

Anyway!

10. GANYMEDE ELEGY

I was wondering when we’d get to a Jet episode. So far he’s been the kind of character I don’t know much to make of. He mostly exists to be a no-nonsense foil to Spike’s irreverence. But even in this episode, a lot of his gruffness comes off as harmless, but then there’s the “be strong for her” ggRrrRRrrr pRoTeCt wOmAn philosophy just rubs me the wrong way. Though I think there’s a lot of valid reasons people gravitate toward characters like Jet? Even if I hesitate to get all pop-psych with it, I think characters like this remind a lot of people of their dads? I dunno, more curious what others think.

But Jet’s backstory completely fits it with what I’m now calling the C.B.M.O. (Cowboy Bebop Modus Operandi) in that it presents a forlorn, almost classical noir backstory - doesn’t go too deep with it, leans heavy on the pastiche, but at least has the dignity to be fun in the process. And by the time we get to the ending, the final confrontation with Alisa and Rhint still plays emotionally valid, which I think is all you need in this show (including strong thematic gestures of literally throwing the watch AKA your past into the ocean).

But also once again, what’s more burned into my mind is little moments and decisions. It’s trying to light the lighter with the bad memory cooked up in your head. It’s underlining the dramatic irony of tragedy with cutting lines like “this must be because i have good karma.” Also that end song totally sounded a lot like Seal’s “Kiss From A Rose.” Also we got gem lines like…

“I live and wander with a group of weirdos now”

I do, too… I do, too.

11. TOYS IN THE ATTIC

Let’s get right to the plum gag: bahahahahahhahahah the alien being an advanced form of leaving lobster in the fridge is just SO AMAZING. I was cackling like mad.

And honestly, I think the lead up with the entire episode was pretty damn great. It just has a completely different energy, not just in regards to playing with the sci-fi / horror tropes (which it’s not laying it on thick or anything), it’s just this fun verve. You feel it in the energy of how everyone hangs out. Like Faye completely taking Jet for all he’s worth in the strip poker game and his “honorable” reaction (this side of Jet’s gruffness I like a lot more). Which all just serves as the perfect dramatic irony of the encroaching, otherworldly horror. It also sideswipes these great little lines about how humans “quickly forgot the lessons they just learned.” And once again we get an episode where all the highs are in the little details, like the little beat where the alien good wiggles again before it’s fully melted. Even the episode’s overlaid vignette structure about lessons (which could be trite when applied in gauche fashion) instead only exists as a distracting bit of artifice that is only really leading to a sublime gag: “You shouldn’t leave things in the fridge… that is the lesson.”

Five stars. Would rent again.

12.-13. JUPITER JAZZ - PART 1 AND PART 2

I feel like it makes sense to write about these two episodes as a single entity.

First off, I have to say how much I like the pacing of them. Most of the sessions of Cowboy Bebop are lean, mean, and economical, which is all part of the fun. But even though the show has its moments of rest / down time,” it’s often rushing through conflict and rarely milking the drama in a way that lets you sit with the tension. Which just means I rarely feel like we ever have a real chance to just dig into a longer story pace. Which is of course what we finally get in this mid-point two part epic that brings us back to Vicious. Which, of course, we all suspected would happen (I say this like we’re all watching the show live for the first time, haha). But now that we’re finally getting into the story itself…

I’m not sure how crazy I am about it? Like, it’s all coming back to that problem of “how much do I really care about all these characters?” I like them and stuff. Really, I do. And it’s really nice to get moments of genuine emotion, like when Spike gets legitimately angry at being called Vicious. But there’s just this thing where I can’t get the emotional investment in the show to really drive that constant want of engagement. There’s fallibility, but so little genuine vulnerability. So it’s not really the kind of show you “lean into.” Which is all part of the ongoing cool disaffection. But hey, isn’t that just how noir operates?

The thing most people don’t understand about noir is that all that disaffection and hidden emotion always bubbles up by the story’s end, often in the spectacular ways of coming undone. Like, the vulnerability explodes by the end. But with a TV show slowly dolling that out like four times across 26 hours? Yeah, that’s not what the noir structure was built for so it just makes it harder to engage. Particularly when characters like Vicious still feel like cyphers in a way. Same goes for the way Julia feels like that haunting ghost. Like we learned “more” about them, but I don’t feel “closer” if that makes sense.

And it also doesn’t help matters that these episodes do some of my least favorite story tropes. Like when a female character is like, “I’m a girl who can take care of myself!” which seems to position them as not being the damsel, but then the male character saves them anyway, which just makes them EXTRA good at rescuing the kind of super-capable women who think they’re above damsel-ing! The fact it does so on the sly that feels even ickier than that. Same goes for yet more homophobia in the episode. And speaking of LGBT+ treatment…

I have NO idea what the heck to think of Gren? Like did they really say that Gren just got a hormonal imbalance from insomnia from going to prison??? Wut??? I don’t want to google things until I’m done with the show but needless to say I’ll be reading from trans / non-binary writers on the subject because I’m having huge flashbacks to The Crying Game discourse that so radically shaped more 90’s-ness when it comes to this stuff. Speaking of which, of course the character dies. And it’s amazing how many people don’t even recognize the problems of this trope, or even that it IS a trope. The reason the “kill your gays” trope exists is because it’s always written by straight people trying to grab other straight people’s sympathy (look, see now you care about this character because they died and that’s sad!) Meanwhile it only teaches LBGT+ people that they are doomed and should be afraid and that their “sacrifice” only exists to teach the straights lessons or whatever. Again, we’re just back in 90’s tropes that I internalized and have come to resent in much more meaningful fashion.

And yet, despite all the things that stick in my craw, this show always has these little things that seep right into my brain and stay there. Like that moment where Lin dies and Vicious clarifies, “he protected the rules,” which is just a forehead-slapper of a perfect line. And then the last little variation on the end title that really hits you: “Do you have a comrade?” Oof. These little things are what makes me ultimately care about the show. It’s not the drama. It’s the little ingenious moments that stick in there and keep rattling around in my brain.

Speaking of brain rattles, this also finally brings us to why I also felt comfortable stopping halfway through the show to write all this down… The other night I felt inclined to start listening to the soundtrack and it was all just there in my brain already, set in stone.

Point being, I’m in.

<3HULK

[ricardosousalemos]

Violent Femmes: Violent Femmes

Billie Jo Campbell was discovered at age 3 while walking down a street in Los Angeles with her mother. A photographer approached, told the mother that Billie Jo was adorable, and asked if she wouldn’t mind her daughter appearing in a photo shoot at a house in Laurel Canyon. The mother—“a free spirit,” Billie Jo explained—promptly set up an appointment. They later learned that the shoot was for the cover of an album by an obscure acoustic-punk trio from Milwaukee about to release their debut. In the photo, barefoot Billie Jo wears a cute white dress and strains to peer inside a darkened house through a window. She had no idea that this was an apt metaphor for the band’s songs, which capture that precise moment when childhood innocence is corrupted by the obsessions of the adult world—sex, violence, perverted religiosity, and omnipresent death. 

Years later, when Billie Jo was a teenager in the ’90s, she realized that the album was pretty momentous. “This was my bragging point,” she recalled in 2007. “I’d be at parties, and if the girls in the dorm knew you were trying to meet cute boys, they’d tell them I am on the cover.”

What’s amazing about this story isn’t just that Billie Jo Campbell was still recognized, well into her college years, as the kid on the cover of the Violent Femmes’ self-titled 1983 LP. It’s that people knew what the cover even looked like. “I think the majority of people found out about our music because somebody had made a tape and played it at a party. I’ve heard that so many times,” said Violent Femmes’ singer-songwriter Gordon Gano in a 2016 interview, still cherubic even in his early 50s. “A few years ago, I had somebody that was a big fan say, ‘What does your album cover look like? I’ve never seen it because it’s always been on a tape that somebody made.’”

Violent Femmes are perhaps the greatest mixtape band of its era—they were to Maxell what Drake now is to Spotify playlists. Long after the Femmes’ initial wave of underground fame came and went in the mid-’80s, choice cuts from their first album kept popping up on countless tapes dispensed throughout teenage suburbia. For those that encountered the Femmes in this manner, the band’s songs were akin to outsider art—found musical data that offered bracingly unfiltered takes on lust and alienation and the yearning to belong, written on an acoustic guitar by a misfit kid who sang in an untrained pubescent whine. Mixtapes gave Violent Femmes renewed life divorced from the context of their own up-and-down career, infusing songs from their first and most successful record with the adolescent angst of each subsequent generation of middle-schoolers in search of a spokesman.

This is the art of the mixtape, finding songs that will expose your innermost self to whoever is receiving the tape. And Violent Femmes songs were catchy and simple enough to work especially well as plainspoken musical messages. If you wanted a killer kick-off for your “I’m an Edgy Outsider and Want to Be Appreciated As Such” mix—one of the most popular mixtape genres—a common choice was “Blister in the Sun,” in which Gano snakes allusions to heroin and premature ejaculation behind Brian Ritchie’s relentlessly busy bass line, like a shoplifter stuffing cigarettes down the front of his jeans. And the perfect closer for that tape would inevitably be “Add It Up,” a relentless rant that argues against involuntary celibacy on the grounds that it can make you homicidal. (“Gone Daddy Gone” also worked in this slot, particularly if the tape had an “all marimbas” theme.)

The other most popular mixtape genre was “I’m Into You and This Is My Way of Showing It,” and Violent Femmes delivered there as well. Gano wrote the most romantic song on Violent Femmes, “Good Feeling,” when he was just 15. An affectingly pure expression of fairy-tale love, “Good Feeling” is a rare moment of unfettered tenderness on an otherwise brash record, revealing the nice young man behind the bravado who was raised by a Baptist minister and a theater actress. Gano actually wrote a collection of gospel songs around the same time as Violent Femmes, but Ritchie, an atheist, refused to record them. He and excitable stand-up drummer Victor DeLorenzo—who was the oldest member by several years—were more comfortable with the nervy “Please Do Not Go,” in which Gano pledges to “patiently pray, pray, pray, pray, pray” for sex rather than salvation.

Gano and Ritchie later admitted that the members of Violent Femmes had virtually nothing in common except for music. But in the beginning, at least, that was enough to bond them together, because nobody else in their hometown of Milwaukee, Wis. took Violent Femmes seriously. The affectations that later endeared them to fans —the ramshackle instrumentation, the spitefully witty lyrics, Gano’s habit of wearing a bathrobe in public—stigmatized the Femmes in the Milwaukee club scene. They were forced to busk in the street with acoustic instruments because nobody would book them.

According to legend, Violent Femmes were “discovered” in 1981 by James Honeyman-Scott of the Pretenders, who invited them to open for his band during a performance at Milwaukee’s Oriental Theatre after seeing them busk outside the venue. Gano had just graduated from high school, and it was rare of the Femmes to perform indoors on an actual stage.

This story became an oft-repeated talking point in press releases after the Femmes became semi-famous in the American indie underground. But as the band members themselves were quick to point out, Violent Femmes were hardly set up for a professional career after that minor acknowledgment. As always, they were left to fend for themselves, eventually borrowing $10,000 from DeLorenzo’s father to fund recording sessions at a studio in Lake Geneva, about 50 miles southwest of Milwaukee. Producer Mark Van Hecke later described the studio as being “in a state of collapse. You’d go into the studio and there would be this equipment, and the next day you go in there’s a piece missing because it got repossessed.” Van Hecke’s intention was to give Violent Femmes a classic Sun Sessions sound, though this naturalistic approach required lots of takes, as the band tended to move around a lot while playing. For Van Hecke, working with the Femmes was an act of faith—he had previously tried to shop a three-song demo to a few dozen record labels in New York and Los Angeles, and all of them said no. “A lot of people thought I was nuts and this was shit. I knew it wasn’t,” he said later.

Nevertheless, Violent Femmes were oddly confident in themselves. “When we made the first album, we thought it was destined to be considered a masterpiece,” Ritchie claimed in 2015. The first prominent person to agree that Violent Femmes were destined for greatness was New York Times music critic Robert Palmer, whose rave review of two performances opening for Richard Hell at the Bottom Line and CBGB in 1982 was instrumental in getting the Femmes a deal with Slash Records.

Palmer, a blues scholar who had just published the definitive history Deep Blues the previous year, compared Gano to his most obvious antecedents, Lou Reed and Jonathan Richman. But Palmer also heard a new strain of Americana in Violent Femmes’ revved-up, snotty confessionals, likening songs to “the discursive, rambling structures of folk-era Dylan.” In a subsequent review of Violent Femmes’ second album, 1984’s overtly spiritual Hallowed Ground, Palmer detected “a subterranean mother lode of apocalyptic religion, murder, and madness that has lurked just under the surface of hillbilly music and blues since the 19th century” in the Femmes’ knowingly primitive music. Perhaps Palmer was also thinking of Violent Femmes’ “Gone Daddy Gone,” which lifts a verse from Willie Dixon’s “I Just Want To Make Love To You,” or the teenage murder ballad “To The Kill,” in which Gano fantasizes about vengefully hunting down his ex in Chicago, like so many Delta musicians decades earlier.

Flash forward to the ’90s, and Palmer’s conflation of Gano’s songs with the timeless quality of the blues felt truer than ever, even as Violent Femmes also seemed more contemporary than ever. In the ’80s, Violent Femmes were strictly an underground phenomenon; a slow but steady seller, the self-titled debut finally went platinum in February of 1991, though it didn’t actually crack the Billboard 200 chart until later that year. By then, Violent Femmes had achieved a measure of mainstream recognition thanks to the alt-rock explosion. They became a fixture of nostalgic movie soundtracks—Ethan Hawke sang “Add It Up” to needle Winona Ryder in Reality Bites, and Minnie Driver blasted “Blister In The Sun” on the hip underground radio show that John Cusack obsesses over in Grosse Pointe Blank. Violent Femmes even appeared in an episode of “Sabrina The Teenage Witch”—mean girl Libby casts a spell on Gano, making him serenade her with “Please Do Not Go” while Sabrina and her aunts do an awkward skank.  

Violent Femmes' influence was now discernible in the legion of underground rockers who had codified Gano's quirky vocal style into what is now commonly recognized as the "indie guy" voice. In years to come, Gano’s vocals—recently described by author J.K. Rowling as sounding “like a bee in a plastic cup”—would echo in Stephen Malkmus, Jeff Mangum, Colin Meloy, Alec Ounsworth of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, and countless less heralded reedy young men.

Violent Femmes remain a band out of time. They are rarely mentioned with the “canon” bands of ’80s American post-punk—lacking the sales and accolades of R.E.M., the Replacements, and the Pixies, the Femmes don’t signify an era so much as a time of life. Violent Femmes is children’s music for teenagers—uber-elementary sing-alongs that have their time and place, and then are set aside as facile once they’re outgrown.

But Violent Femmes deserves better. If the blues survived because of the oral tradition of passing down songs from one singer to another, Violent Femmes endured because the tunes were shared via word of mouth at dorm parties and high school keggers. (Even the girl on the cover learned about Violent Femmes that way.) And don’t discount those precious mixtapes, a primitive form of social media that worked exponentially slower than the internet but were ultimately no less effective at creating a lasting legacy.

For young people growing up in the internet age, Violent Femmes is part of a shared language. In 2013, after a period of estrangement marked by lawsuits and public in-fighting, Violent Femmes were persuaded to reunite for a performance at Coachella. “As soon as we started out the set with ‘Blister in the Sun,’ when that riff hit, it was like a swarm of insects coming towards our stage. They all started running from the other stages,” Ritchie recalled. All these years later, whenever teenagers listen to songs from Violent Femmes, they also hear themselves.