#betamax finds

[jfk-blown-away-blog]

Found a fucking Betamax player at the thrift store today. Also had a tape inside it.

[yallthemwitches]

Traditionalists

For Day 24 of @jilytoberfest 🎶Then I know everything is gonna be fine, Because you are mine🎶 -You Shine from Carrie - The Musical

“And what room is this?” James' face goes dreamy, tilting his head against the wood of the frame. “The baby’s room I reckon.” Lily turns fast on her heels. “Baby? Whose baby?” James blinks. “Ours.” He straightens up, getting a glint in his eye. “Oh wait, sorry—you want traditional order of events: engagement then marriage then house then baby. Did I get that correct?”

AO3 link Here

“SURPRISE!”

He uncovers her eyes. Lily stares at a small gated walkway that leads up to a modest looking cottage. A small billow of smoke wafts from the thatched chimney.

“I don’t get it.”

“It’s ours.” His smile is infectious, every part of his face alight with glee. 

Lily looks back at the house. The garden out front looks recently tilled, little sprouts of infant seedlings popping out from the wet earth. 

“You bought us a house?” Her mouth is set in an o formation, eyes darting to each window and wooden beam.

“Well not bought—mum and dad said we could have it if we were willing to fix it up a bit. It’s been in the family for ages as you can probably tell by the ‘Beedle and the Bard’ feel of it.”

He isn’t wrong to call it a place out of a fairytale. Even down to the front porch, there is a hint of domestication and whimsy that her cement brick of a family home back in Cokeworth could never achieve. 

“James, it's lovely but— we aren’t even engaged.”

She rips her eyes away from the building, turning to watch his brow furrow before something clicks in his brain and his lips curl into an impish smile.

“Didn’t peg you for such a traditionalist, Evans. Would it make you feel better if I got on one knee right now?”

Lily sputters, cheeks burning. He has been doing this more and more lately, suggesting the idea of marriage. Eventually she had to tell him to stop after the fourth or fifth time he would crouch down on one knee in front of her and linger here just long enough to make her heart soar before straightening back up with the excuse of an itchy ankle or dropping a quill. 

“That’s not what I’m saying. It's just—we just graduated and you have only just met mum and dad—I hardly think that they would accept me bunking with my boyfriend so soon.”

“‘Bunking’ is it?” He quips, “Sure hope then they don’t find out how much ‘bunking’ we did back at school.”

She gives him a pointed glare and he concedes, reaching out to give her chin a little squeeze. 

“At least come see it first before you completely shoot it down—I did a lot of work already but it needs a feminine touch before it will be perfect.”

He takes her hand and swings open the gate to lead her down the walk. Closer to the garden beds, she can see little wooden signs popping out from the dirt. In James’ unmistakable scrawl are written the words: Lavender, Rosemary, Vervain, Wolfsbane.

“So this is the garden—mum said it’s good luck to plant the first two but otherwise I figured you’d want a healthy supply of potions ingredients.”

He doesn’t let her linger, pulling her up onto the porch and pulling back the heavy set door. Inside, the main room is full of light from the large windows. Bookshelves are already lined with a mixture of muggle and wizarding titles—many of which look like duplicates of the ones she keeps at home. Between books are slanted photographs of times gone by: her and him mid embrace after his Quidditch Cup win; Lily and Remus sitting in the forest near the Potter Mansion, rat crawling on her head as a stag nuzzles at her neck, a dog’s tongue slides up the side of the camera; a muggle photo she took of Sirius and James in Paris, both in mid guffaw as they are flanked by cancan dancers.

Her eyes scan away to a glinting object in the corner. A brand new TV set sits on its stand with a betamax player at its feet. A copy of Harold and Maude sits atop.

“I always wanted a TV,” James chirps, noticing her staring at the muggle invention. 

“Is that right? You planning on becoming one of those blokes who would ignore their naked wife just to watch a match?”

James looks aghast. “Merlin no Lils! I’ll just shag you from behind so we both can watch–” 

She pretends to scoff in disgust and he grabs her around the belly, calloused fingers wiggling until she is in tears from laughing.

“Honestly, I don’t know what I even expected,” she says, now with a cramp in her stomach. 

“Might I remind you that you brought up the ‘naked wife’ bit–” He puts emphasis on the last word, squeezing her hand tighter. 

“You’re Impossible,” she mutters, taking his hand to yank him into what looks like the hallway. 

He has decorated the hall with posters and art that mirror their shared Heads’ office back at school: a various smattering of film titles mixed with art pieces. He takes the lead, opening the doors one by one and letting her peer in. The rooms are less put together than the main living space, but the idea is there: a guest room (“In case Remus needs a place—the laws around Werewolves have been strangling these past couple years”), a room with a work desk and various bits and bobs (“a shared laboratory if you will—”), and a master bedroom. 

At the very end of the hall, the final room opens up to a small but bright space that is completely bare save for a coat of pastel red on the walls. Lily walks in and turns around, cocking a brow at her boyfriend who leans in the doorframe.

“And what room is this?”

James' face goes dreamy, tilting his head against the wood of the frame.

“The baby’s room I reckon.”

Lily turns fast on her heels.

“Baby? Whose baby?”

James blinks. “Ours.” He straightens up, getting a glint in his eye.

“Oh wait, sorry—you want traditional order of events: engagement then marriage then house then baby. Did I get that correct?”

Lily turns back to the room. The sunlight pours onto the floor casting little phantoms of the leaves. 

“James—it's lovely. It really is…but what about—” her voice fractures. The house is everything she ever dreamed of—a real life with him, built and filled with the express intention of happiness. She’s only just learned of it and it’s already hard to let go. 

“We’ve committed to the Order. Will be at war and Merlin knows we might have to go into hiding if things go south. It’s a beautiful thought but we just can’t afford to dream like—”

“Rubbish.” He cuts her off, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “That’s what he wants us to do. We can’t just stop living because there’s a war out there.”

“Nothing is a sure thing anymore, James.”

James takes a step forward. Eyes bright and pleading. 

“We are a sure thing. And all of this,” he gestures around the room, “Can be too. We can’t let them take it away from us.”

She feels the tears rimming her eyes. She can picture it so well: James tinkering on a new invention in the side room, Remus and Sirius dropping by, touting a case of beer and wild stories that they will tell in great hyperbolic zeal, a baby—a beautiful little child whose hands are smaller than a snitch, gargling with peals of laughter as James lifts him up, up into the air and spins.

“Ok—yeah, alright.” She wipes her nose, giving a small hesitant chuckle to dispel the reservations that still harbor at the shores of her vision. “Let’s do it.”

James crosses the small distance between them, picking her up and spinning her until she lets out a laugh that feels oddly reminiscent of their imaginary child. He sets her down and pushes her into him, his hot breath on her head like a warming aura. 

“I love you,” she murmurs into him. “Let’s be a family.”

He kisses her head, his smile infecting her from the head down. “Woah, Evans. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he says in mock reserve, “I mean, we aren’t even engaged yet.”

[obsessedwithitall]

It's Embarrassing (Eddie Munson x reader) (Part 1)

I woke up this morning with this in my head and have been trying to write it all day. Also, I don't like smoking, I'm just going through a phase. Can you tell I've never smoked? I am the squarest.

Everyone is in their 20s, Eddie and reader have been in a secret relationshipish for a few months. Angst.

There is a part 2 I think. I just need to get the ending right. Feedback is welcome xx

Part 2 is here

***

You pulled your t-shirt over your naked body before you took the cigarette from Eddie, put it to your mouth and immediately started choking on the smoke.

He looked at you with concern. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” you coughed, “super.”

“You have smoked before right?”

“Yeah.” You waited a second before shaking your head no. He gestured for you to give it to him and he took a long drag, not choking like you did.

“What?”

“That was hot.” You buried your face in his neck and he began to laugh. You in nothing but your t-shirt, Eddie in nothing but his boxers, yes, you could get used to this.

***

That morning was rushed as you and Eddie got up awfully late and then you had to go home for your uniform. The door to family video was already open when you got there, leaving your car quickly and running into the store.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't worry, I did the morning rush.” You rolled your eyes at Robin. There never was any morning rush.

***

The phone began to ring.

“Family video, how can I help you?”

“I can think of a few ways.”

A very recognisable voice came through the phone and made you drop your customer service demeanour. “Stop.”

“I can't help it. I missed you.”

“Its been like an hour.” You checked around for where Robin had gone but couldn’t find her so assumed she must have gone into the back.

“I'd say nearly 2.”

“An hour and 10 minutes is not nearly 2 hours.”

Eddie replied quieter than before. “2 whole hours I've been thinking about those cute little panties you left on my floor.” You blushed.

“I'm at work, you can't say that.”

“No one can hear though.”

“You should be at work.”

“I am.”

“Are you calling off the garage phone? Eddie, anyone could hear.” You tried to sound annoyed but somehow you weren't as mad as you wanted to be.

“No they won't. Its only me in now, everyone else had having an early lunch.” That relaxed you a little. “Anyway, you coming over again tonight?”

Your faced twisted a little, unsure if you should. “I don't know, I've gotta do laundry and I should probably clean my apartment.”

“I could always come help?”

“I don't know how helpful you’d be.”

“I could always help you with some of your clothes...”

The thought made you scrunch your face and attempt to hide a huge grin.

“Clean or dirt-”

Robin started her way back through the store to you, so you quickly cut him off.

“Thank you for calling madam. Goodbye.” Your voice quick and very dry, you slammed the phone down on the receiver quickly.

“What was that about?”

Hiding your blushed face by looking down you picked up a pile of videos and took them to the back of the store. “Erm... they were asking about Betamax.”

***

It had been a slow day. So slow that it seemed to go on forever. The sun had finally started setting when Eddie and Steve meandered into the store. Neither you nor Robin, who was sat on top of the front counter, greeted them when they came in, to busy staring into space and sucking on lollipops to notice them.

“What is that?”

Robin pushed the round top of her lollipop into your neck, just below your shirt collar.

“Robin, that's gross.” Your neck felt sticky now.

“That is gross. Who did that to you?” her faced pulled into a huge grin.

“Stop.” You pulled your collar down a bit and looked at your reflection in the tall windows. For fuck sake. You’d checked for marks this morning, clearly not well enough.

“Who was it? Did you stop over, oh is that why you were late this morning?”

“I wasn’t late.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“How did I not notice that sooner? Who was it?”

“Its noone.”

“Is it because those bozos are here?”

She eluded to Eddie and Steve hanging around the back of the store.

“No, its-“

Robin yelled across the room, “Munson, Harrington, get out.”

“Why?”

“She won't tell me who’s been attacking her neck because you two won't leave.”

If the ground would swallow you up now that would be wonderful. You could feel your face flushing bright red, and now not only Robin but Steve and Eddie were all staring at the purple stain on your neck. Steve with curiosity, Robin with disgust and Eddie with sick pride.

“I'm not going anywhere. I want to know who our dear friend has been slutty with.” Eddie sang. Why was he doing this to you?

“I'm not being slutty with anybody.”

“Who was it?” Robin asked again.

Then Eddie started with the rapid fired accusations.

“Was it Jason?”

“Ew.”

“Paul?”

“No.”

“Craig?”

“No.”

“Harrington?” Steve looked very confused and shook his head.

“Eddie-“

“Michael?”

“Stop it.”

You’d had enough. Storming away from the front counter you left your 3 friends behind and made a beeline for the employee bathroom, tears threatening to burst from your eyes. Robin pushed herself away from the counter to follow you but Eddie stopped her.

“I went too far. I’ll go.”

***

The bathroom stall door shook as someone knocked on the wood.

“Go away, Robin.”

“Not Robin.”

You opened the door and Eddie was stood far too close, blocking your exit. Pushing him out of the way you threw your hands against the sink to hold yourself up and stared into the mirror.

“I'm sorry, I went too far.”

“You think.”

“Why don't you tell them?”

“I can’t. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“A reputation?”

“And this,” The bruise on your neck seemed to grow under your gaze. Everyone would know. What would your parents say? What would everyone say? Even if you covered it with makeup, Robin and Steve knew so all your friends would know soon. You snapped. “This is embarrassing, Eddie.”

All you heard was the bang of the bathroom door as Eddie stormed out, not saying a word.

***

You knew your car was going to be much warmer than any welcome you got from Eddie but you hadn’t seen him in a week, so you needed to talk to him.

Wayne answered the door and your heart sank.

“Hey, sweetheart. He’s not here.”

“Oh, ok. Thank you. When he comes back, can you... ask him to call me? He’s got my number and everything so...”

You stepped back on the porch slightly, before thinking again.

“And if he’s needs to um, I know your line isn’t always good, so if he's got to use the phone down the street, can you give him these?”

You placed at least 2 dollars worth of quarters in Wayne’s hand and smiled a tight-lipped sad smile at him. He nodded and showed you the same.

Wayne watched you get into your car and drive off before he shut the door. Eddie stood in the kitchen pulling at his lip.

“You going to call her or what?”

***

Part 2 is here

Any feedback is welcome and encouraged. Thank you so much for reading 💜💜💜

[I only watched the first 7 episodes of season one of Stranger Things so I'm sorry if it feels wrong. I will not be watching anymore]

[knightwhoisni]

a live action osomatsu-kun adaptation from some tv block or something way back in the 80s resurfaced today! there's no subs and ig the tape's a bit borked (idk have only barely started to watch it myself) but hey! still neat!

(should also note that i absolutely did not find and upload it; this was all the work of somebody called mediamonster!)

[betamaxburns]

five years ago i decided to sit down and watch the simpsons for the first time in my life. and that one decision impacted my life forever. i met my best friend from it, i vastly improved as an artist, i am much more confident as a person, and i was able to broaden my media horizons.

five years ago i was a suicidal mess who was barely figuring out what to do. five years later i have a steady job and im working on a masters. my mental health is in a much better state. the world will always be a cruel place, but finding a connection to the good parts of life will save you. it saved me.

i have grown so much from the connections i made through this useless interest. i don’t know why im sharing all this. maybe to tell other people finding comfort in stupid shit that it does get better but you have to work for it. good things in life must be molded from your own will sometimes. you cannot see the future but you can always look back on the past, so live in a way that would make your past self proud.

thank you all for everything. i hope you all are in better places too.

ps: i never did own a betamax player. but i did find a laserdisc player and it’s far superior to any tape format. sometimes we create false binaries that are solved by exploring a third unknown option.

[pigeon-dyke]

PIGEON HRT: Part 3

This one was a collaboration with my wolf girlfriend, Ashley ( @whatwolfwhowolf ) ! (Go read her Wolf HRT story!! It's really good omg)

》~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~《

MONTH 3

I'm on top of an office building right now. 

It's been abandoned since the late 90's, the last thing it held was some kinda failed internet business, but before that it held an asbestos installation company, and then the headquarters for a regional betamax tape rental chain. it must've been cursed or something. 

The sun is setting, and my new feathers ruffle at the late-autumn chill. The streets below are striped with the lines of light that peek through the surrounding buildings.

My girlfriend Wolf is sitting next to me. 

It's another therian, pretty new to its transition compared to me, but that doesn't stop it from already wearing a collar. 

I give it some scritches, and the wolf leans into my hand. 

Huh. Hand feels like an odd word. My arms are going to become wings, right? They're already covered in feathers. Soon, I might not have hands anymore. It might be harder to pet my friends, but I'll find a way. 

I get lost in thought for a moment. 

Right now, I feel… safe. It's like a warm, comfortable feeling, that I haven't quite felt before. Being up here, far away from any predators on the ground, just feels right. 

Huh… predators? I thought that without really meaning to. Odd. 

My mental changes have been much more noticeable lately, and most of them are welcome! But some of them have been a bit unnerving? 

When we were in the office's dusty break room earlier, a large beetle crawled past me on the floor; for a solid moment, I was going to eat it. My brain processed it as nothing but food, and saw absolutely nothing wrong with that. 

Thankfully, I stopped myself from eating a bug in front of my girlfriend, but it was a weird experience. I guess there's gonna be a few weird experiences in this transition, I should probably get used to it. 

I get distracted from my thoughts when I notice Wolf gently growling as I pet it. There aren't a ton of visible changes in it yet, and it's definitely still a bit anxious about some parts of transition, but I can tell it's already feeling more comfortable in its skin. 

After a few minutes, we both stand up, ready to head out. I lift my clunky film camera and take a photo of it against the sunset.

We make our way down the crumbling, creaky staircase, glancing through doorways at places we've already explored. 

The room with the collapsed floor, 

The room with the graffiti pseudo-satanic ritual in it, where we took some goofy photos,

The breakroom, which I stole an "I Hate Mondays" mug from, 

The ground floor, with its calendar still open to June of 1998. 

And, we walk back out into the streets of the city's old business district. 

》~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~《

Next Part

Previous Part

[fullscoreshenanigans]

Consider: Norman, Emma, and Ray going thrifting around their new hometown and learning a lot about the local people and even taking busted up VCRs or other old models of things. Seems like an excellent way to reclaim Ray's memories of taking apart old tech for the little machine he made to disrupt the trackers.

(Continued from here)

Oh my goddd they'd love anything that survived WWIII that provided more insight into the little mundane things of daily living they might have read about in books. Imagine them finding a betamax or CD player, or a built-to-last, old school refrigerator or sewing machine; the latter they end up gifting to Gilda, Anna, Gillian, or Vincent. Any older video game systems, especially ones with working digital libraries or those 250-in-one collections, would be a hit with the kids.

Lowkey obsessed with the scenario of the kids having a Mario Kart tournament that Norman and Ray aren't even a part of originally, but somehow they get roped into joining, and after like one or two races they're aceing it and eventually it's just like, deadass silent except for the rapid button mashing these two are doing because they don't shit talk each other but are just being absolutely vicious to each other on the screen, calculating more and more difficult angles to hit each other with green shells, drifting in front of each other just to throw back banana peels on the most precarious of turns with no edges, etc. Winds up the same way as their chess matches do:

(Mystic Code Book Chapter 1 Q&A)

[maryellencarter]

So here's a question that Tumblr may be the wrongest possible audience for, but: Why don't they do boxsets of sportsball seasons?

Like, I know reliable home video has only been a thing since like the '80s-ish, but that's still forty years. Why the hell... You should be, like, finding "Fighting Irish 1996-1997 Season: Tape 4 of 8" on VHS at Goodwill, or "Wayne Gretzky's 10 Greatest Games" on DVD at the library next to "Maple Leafs 2023-2024: Auston Matthews' Record-Setting Season" on Blu-ray, or "World Cup 1987" on Betamax at an estate sale. Is there somehow just not a market for this?

(This post brought to you by me really wishing I could watch a Gretzky game or so, not just clips of his goals. Watching Maple Leafs and Penguins games has absolutely transformed how I write space battles in Star Wars, because I've seen how a once-in-a-generation talent *thinks* in four dimensions. "Wedge Antilles flies like Sidney Crosby" was not the take I expected to come up with, but it's really working for me, and "Poe Dameron flies like Mitch Marner" has somehow become a driving theme of this novel. And I really want to find out what I'd take away from seeing The Great One at work.)

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Hi! :)

Just wanted to point out that there's a slight mistake in your gif masterpost, one of your gifs is mislabelled:

The "Do not buy Betamax" links to this:

https://fuckyeahgoodomens.tumblr.com/post/658412681367257088/from-the-dvd-commentary-episode-1-neil-gaiman

Just wanted to tell you :)

I hope you have a great day!

OH THANK YOUUUU! ❤❤❤❤ :)

Should be fixed now :). (here is the masterpost in question and here is the betamax gifset if anyone's interested :))

Please if anyone finds a similar or different mistake on the blog, message me, thank you ❤ 🐍😊.

[nostalgiarewind]

7 Up advert from 1982

[oneinathousand]

Pixar gets all the credit for supposedly making the first feature-length CGI movie with Toy Story, but it’s untrue, it wasn’t even the first feature-length CGI movie released in 1995!

Toy Story was released in November of 1995, but several months earlier, a tie-in movie for the Japanese point-and-click adventure series GADGET called GADGET Trips: Mindscapes was released separately on Laserdisc in the spring (with one old source I found specifying it coming out in May).

An important thing to note is that sources regarding this movie will often claim that it came out in 1998, but that was for the DVD which came out after the Laserdisc version, and the former is simply easier to find.

It certainly doesn’t have a traditional narrative, and it’s basically one long music video with a plot you absolutely won’t even kinda sorta understand unless you read the art book Inside Out with Gadget or read the helpful summary that’s inside the Laserdisc cover itself, but it’s as much of a film as something like Koyaanisqatsi is.

However, if you want to go by the parameter of “first CGI movie to be in active development and then released”, then you could say that the 1996 Brazilian animated movie Cassiopéia should get the credit because it got started in 1992, but production problems such as some of the rendering computers getting stolen prevented it’s release until after Toy Story. Many Portuguese-speaking animation fans are already aware of this.

HOWEVER… If you want to go by the literal definition of a “cgi film”, then the 55-minute long pixel-art-styled The Flying Luna Clipper from 1987 released on VHS and Betamax technically counts. When we hear the letters “cgi”, we normally associate it with being 3D, but this movie was made mostly with an MSX computer, and is pixel art not computer generated imagery? Unless you think it isn’t because it’s much more hands-on. Sure, a lot of the movement here is basically a slideshow combined with a digital form of cut-out animation, but I think there’s enough motion to qualify it as being a movie, you know? (Thanks to @easternmind for pointing me in the direction of this)

Even if you personally disqualify The Flying Luna Clipper for being 2D, disqualify Cassiopéia for releasing in 1996, and even if you disqualify Gadget Trips: Mindscapes for its unconventional nature, you can’t solely credit Pixar for breaking new ground when it comes to CGI when you take all the shorts over the years into account, and I think these artists the world over should get more credit for their achievements, and maybe there’s even more examples of movie-length CG movies before Toy Story that I don’t even know about!

[consanguinitatum]

David Tennant's Obscure Short Films: 1996's Quality Control

I'm back for a short(er) little David Tennant in Obscure Performances post today. Let's have a teeny-tiny chat about another rarity of David's, shall we? - a short film he did in 1996 called Quality Control. And when I say this is a rarity, believe me….it's a rarity.

I've at least been able to confirm David acted in this short film, for he mentions it as a film credit in two places: the 1996 programme for The Herbal Bed, and the 1997 programme for Hurly Burly - as evidenced by this cast listing of his from my Hurly Burly programme:

Quality Control has very little to no presence on the Internet, and there are only a few mentions of its existence. The first one I've been able to track which attributed the short to David was from a "David Tennant Fact Of The Day" post from May 2012.

The second mention is from the British Film Institute (BFI). If you study this notation, you'll notice another interesting detail: unlike many other works, the BFI does NOT hold any film or video materials relating to Quality Control. So they don't have a copy!

The BFI describes the film as a "comedy in which a job centre trainee finds himself totally inept in his new position of quality controller at a skateboard factory." But I hoped I might find a few other clues from another contemporary source: newspapers. So that's where I went!

All of the descriptions said Quality Control was a 20-minute short comedy - but I also learned it was the trainee's first day on the job, too. One can also assume (and I certainly do) David plays the role of the trainee. Here are some various listings I found:

What's very interesting, though, is something the BFI doesn't list: Quality Control was also re-broadcast two years later in 1998! The 'Fact of The Day' I mentioned earlier clued me into that detail, and that tidbit was invaluable in my search for mentions of the short. Why? Because this one's a real tough one to search. David's never mentioned in any printed synopsis, and seriously…just try to do a search using only the words, "Quality Control." It's an utter nightmare!

But knowing what I knew, I was able to add to the information the 'Fact Of The Day' had provided. Quality Control originally aired at 1:55p on 10 Jun 1996 on BBC Channel 4. In 1998, Channel 4 aired it two more times: on 8 Feb 1998 at 3:30p, and at 1:30p on 26 Oct 1998. It was also repeated regionally on S4C at 1:30p on 6 Nov 1998.

Its repetition in 1998 has intrigued me. It implies the BBC kept a copy of the short from 1996 to its re-air dates in 1998. The BFI listing for the short says it doesn't have a copy in its archives, but unless the BBC has subsequently erased it, a copy of that short might still exist. Somewhere. I'd love to find it, as it's one of the few things David did during that time I haven't seen. So we have no screenshots. But we know he did it. And who knows if the BBC has it in their archive.

But you know, maybe someone's got it recorded somewhere on an old Betamax tape.

[goodomenshq]

Some eagle-eyed Paul Kidby fans found the third piece. But who next? In the hustle and bustle of a market fayre, creatives congregate, they share. Find what your heart desires. Even a Betamax.

p.s. sign up to the Kickstarter!

[anamelessfool]

I was tagged by @ghuleh-recs and @can-of-pringles for the three facts thing.

1. Mid-Aughts, I worked in Television Production in NYC. At the MTV Times Square Building. Yes, where they filmed TRL. My main job consisted of collecting betamax tapes for producers and editors. Yes, deep underground Times Square there is a vault that houses everything ever aired on MTV and its networks since the mid80s. On hundreds of thousands of betamax tapes that some intern has to haul up. I wonder if it's still there.

2. I love fish and aquariums. It was my dream to have a koi pond since I was a child. I managed to get one now and it's a lovely wild pond that my partner and I have been working on for 5 years now. It was an ugly sludge hole when we bought the place and now it's a thriving ecosystem full of koi, frogs, snakes and even crawfish.

3. I started writing when I was 11. Of course it was HP fanfiction (starring basically a female version of HP surprise surprise). I won a newspaper contest for my writing and it was published which made 11 year old me very happy. My favorite fanfic I ever wrote until now was published anonymously to Fanfiction.net when I was 18. It was a retelling of Pride and Prejudice except with the plot of the Japanese survival horror film Battle Royale. I was proud of how I got Austen's writing voice down pretty well. Basically Mr. Collins turns out to be a psycho that entraps the girls and forces them to battle to the death for Mr. Darcy or their locking necklaces he gifted them explodes their heads. There was no tag system so I enjoyed how people were surprised when Mr. Bennet's head suddenly blew off his body and the game began. I need to find this fic now.

ETA WHAT THE FUQQQ I FOUND IT AND PEOPLE WERE COMMENTING ON IT AS LATE AS 2015 OMFG

Tagging @thew0man @fishwithtitz @prophetofthesufferpuppets @monkberryghouldelight @discountdemonwarehouse @visiosatanae

[dollarbin]

Shakey Sundays #6:

Neil Young and Promise of the Real's The Monsanto Years

Somehow this album is cursed in my biography. Every time I try to listen to it something goes deeply wrong. And it's no wonder: in the silly recording session photo above it looks like Neil is casting an evil spell on all of us. Monsanticus!

When the record came out in in the summer of 2015 I was suspicious; Neil had just released Storytone, and it sounded like he'd focused on painting the record's cover and washing his hogs rather than writing good songs. Plus I'd never even heard of his new backing band with their too terrible to be ironic name. Crazy Horse was alive and well; what was Young up to now?

But 20 years previously I'd been equally suspicious when Young got spooked by the Horse and buddied up with a different group of young hipsters to make Mirror Ball, and that record turned out to be awesome. And so I knew The Montsanto Years deserved my open-mindedness in spite of its clunky title and fairly gross cover art.

So I turned it up loud for the first time with my buddy Matt. It was a beautiful day and we had an open road with two hours of drive time ahead of us. Maybe we'd listen to it twice!

But halfway through the album's third song, People Want to Hear About Love, with its inspired-by-Stephen-Still's-very-own-Joe-Lala bongos, and its gather about me young squires chanting, not to mention Young's crankiest grandpa vocal stylings to date, Matt and I simultaneously announced that the song sucked. We put on Zuma instead.

Even so, People Want To Hear About Love, stayed annoyingly in my head all day, and that day was dedicated to attending our friend's younger sister's funeral. I couldn't shake crusty grandpa Neil off at the graveside as my friend's 20-something little sister was lowered into the earth, her life cut short by cancer that came with touches of abhorrent irony: she'd been a nurse; her dad was a cancer doctor. You're wrong Neil, I angrily thought, no one wants to hear about love. Nor do they ever want to hear your song again.

I've given the record sporadic second chances since then. And every time I get to the fourth track, Big Box, I perk up. After all, it opens with Neil alone, playing a demonstrative and churning, here's how it works kids, follow my lead, riff that sounds like it's lifted straight from Mirror Ball.

But before you know it Neil croons "Too Big To Fail" in overdubbed fashion and rhymes "excited" with "Citizens United" (you know, the Supreme Court case that gave corporations the power to essentially buy our elections) and, despite some pretty exciting guitar interplay whenever Young shuts his trap, rather than echoing Mirror Ball the whole thing sounds like Young is hanging out with Kai Ryssdal or David Brancaccio on Marketplace. Come on Neil, that's my least favorite show on NPR.

Yesterday I gave the record yet another try: but again, no dice; my 15 year old ipod (no, I don't own The Monsanto Years on vinyl; I got it in true Dollar Bin fashion by checking it out at the library) played me the first two songs, the lyrically regrettable opening track, which isn't amazing but does not suck, and the pretty lovely, quavering Wolf Moon, before the device (it's the kind with a dial on the lower half; there are 22 thousand songs on the thing, and around 1600 of them are Young's), perhaps disgusted by my choice for this week's Shakey Sunday, cried uncle and died in what appeared to be the very real Steve Jobs kinda fashion.

I was able to resuscitate it eventually but I'm unsure whether or not to risk resumption of the album. After all, it's cursed! And when the terrible day comes, and my ipod refuses to wake back up no matter how many times I pressed down all the buttons at once while cursing, will I need to find another way, either through a very nonDollar Bin purchase of the vinyl or through Neil's old timey, betamax website, to listen to The Monsanto Years ever again? Or can I just stick with Zuma?

Well, let's find out the answer. It's a Shakey Sunday and I'm about to roll my ipod's dice, press play, and go song by song through the rest of Neil's far too long screed against agrobusiness.

The fifth song, A Rock Star Bucks a Coffee Shop, is a big No vote for the record. Yikes. I'd rather drink a big cuppa GMO than hear Young rhyme GMO with Mont-san-to ever again. Whoever is responsible for the whistling in this song needs to never purse their lips in my presence again.

I suspect POTR (I refuse to ever type the band's terrible name out again; I wish they'd named themselves Promise of the Real Sausages instead) are big fans of Young's live bender record Time Fades Away. Working Man's got that vibe but it's slick instead of shakey. Yuck.

In Rules of Change Neil gives us yet another version of the story he's been telling over and over again for the whole record: the farmers have woes; climate change is real; we're doomed unless we get on Uncle Neil's groovy train of love. Look: I'm an environmentalist already. I do what I can to eat sustainably; I ride my bike to work alongside my sweet daughter as much as possible; and I've got a bootleg gray water system already running out the back of my house as we speak, watering my trees with our laundry water. The simple truth is that I never needed this concept album, or any of Young's too numerous to count environmental anthems. I already know this stuff. I'm already angry and I already vote and if Trump gets elected next fall I'll lose my mind a second time. Frankly, Neil, I'd much rather imagine sleeping with Pocahontas.

But it's when we get to the album's title track that I start to wish my ipod was indeed broken.

The song is a terrifying double to Danger Bird: it's slow and brooding with caveman vocals. But the guitar is mostly sickening instead of life changing and everyone's chanting "Safeway" instead of telling me about Carrie Snodgrass sleeping around with some still unknown famous enemy of Young's and ruining his life in 75. I guess Neil's right, people do want to hear about love. And Marlon Brando. And the Astrodome. And me.

I haven't got much to say about the final track, If I Don't Know. It occurs, and it sucks less than most of what we just sat through. What I fear is that Young is letting some young hipster solo at the end of the song while he stands by, contemplating corporate sin. Jimi Hendrix is dead, Ira Kaplan is busy, Richard Thompson isn't interested and Stephen Stills sucks; no other man on earth should be allowed to solo on a guitar while on stage with Neil.

(But I'd be more than happy to have any number of women do so, however, from Leslie Feist to Myriam Gendron to the recently resurgent Joni Mitchell herself.)

Okay folks we did it. We made it through The Monsanto Years. You have my permission to never listen to it again.

Me? As of this moment, while I hit post, I'm already half way through the record for the second time today, and I'm kinda digging my time at the Big Box store. Looks like I like the record anyway.

Neil Young: even his garbage swings.