#but broken machine and their self titled album are both burned onto my heart

[vulpinesaint]

nothing but thieves will always be My band by virtue of nobody else i know ever listening to them except through me. that's My band. My everything. anyway who wants to listen to me be soooo frowny face over their new album

[themurphyzone]

Dooferella Ch 2

Summary: Heinz has to read to children at the local library as community service, but things go awry when Heinz uses a Fairy Tale-inator to spice up the story of Cinderella. Unfortunately, something malfunctions and Heinz is transported into a strange fairy tale world! Now Dooferella, he’s stuck with a long list of chores for his parents and goody two shoes brother until a summons from the kingdom’s headquarters arrives….

Ch 2: Make the Fire, Fix the Breakfast, Wash the Dishes, Do the Mopping

“A little clumsy today, are we?”

Heinz groaned, which quickly turned into a cough that made his entire chest ache. That smug, self-assured voice was the absolute last thing he wanted to hear.

“Shut up, Roger. I’ll ask for your opinion when I want it. Which is usually never,” Heinz muttered, folding his arms across his chest petulantly. “Besides, you��re terrible at keeping your fireplace clean. It’s like you let five years of dust build up in there.”

“I believe that would be your duty. My job is to play the gracious host for the social gathering tonight. And I require this manor to be nice and tidy for my esteemed guests. You know how much Mother can’t tolerate filthiness. Now, when you’ve finished with the fireplace, sweep the parlor and dust the bannisters. There are plenty of other areas you’ve neglected for the past few days, but focus on the parlor for now, Dooferella,” Roger continued.

He checked the time with an expensive golden pocket watch, which Heinz rolled his eyes at. Digital watches were a thing now. There was no need to be so pretentiously old-fashioned. While Roger always wore nice suits in public, it was just weird to see him in a fancy green dinner jacket when nobody else was around.

Heinz scowled. “You’re not the boss of me. And my name’s not Dooferella!”

But Roger only raised an annoyingly perfect eyebrow, as if he were just observing a persistent fly. “You spend far too much time tinkering with your silly machines,” he chided. “Your head can only take so much damage.”

Roger clasped his white-gloved hands behind his back and left the room, leaving Heinz alone with a dusty fireplace, broom, and a pile of rags.

“Joke’s on you, Roger!” Heinz called, not caring if Roger heard him or not. “Someday I’m gonna overthrow you and order you around like a lowly servant! See how you like it! And guess what? I can leave whenever I want thanks to…the Fairy Tale-inator!”

He opened the flap of his lab coat, but his fingers brushed against his black turtleneck instead, which was somewhat ragged from the rough winds that had battered him around earlier.

His lab coat was gone. And so was the Fairy Tale-inator.

“Right, I put the Fairy Tale-inator on the chair. Which is back in the library. On the other side of the portal. Curse you, lack of foresight!” Heinz shook his fist in the air out of habit. “And curse the portal too for stealing my lab coat!”

He’d just have to build another Fairy Tale-inator.

“This shouldn’t be too hard. I can build another Fairy Tale-inator and get out of here in half an hour tops!” Heinz exclaimed. “Then actually make it home in time for my scheme. I don’t want Perry the Platypus to turn one of my complaints on his occasional non-punctuality back on me.”

                                                ----------------

Okay, so there was a flaw in his plan.

The Fairy Tale-inator was powered by a combination of batteries and spite.

While Heinz could easily provide the spite, there was a significant lack of batteries in the manor. Also, Roger’s not-so-humble abode seemed impractical to live in. Heinz got lost at least five times on the way to the kitchen, then broke an expensive Ming Dynasty vase when he tried to retrace his steps. He swept the broken pieces under a lush Persian rug and convinced himself that Roger probably had a ton of fancy vases and wouldn’t notice if he was down a fancy knickknack or two.

Heinz turned left on another long corridor, balling his fists when he came face to face with a painting of Roger playing kickball.

“Sure, he gets recognition for a sport nobody except Mother cares about, and I get nothing for cup stacking,” Heinz scowled. “There’s more practical applications for cup stacking than kickball. I can’t think of any right now, but I’m sure there’s something!”

As he walked down a flight of stairs, he smelled something delicious and rich, with just a hint of cinnamon and rosemary. His stomach rumbled.

“Alright, just a quick hunger detour,” Heinz conceded. “Then I’ll look for batteries. And possibly find a phone. Cause I don’t have my cell anymore. I’m cursing you a second time, portal!”

The kitchen was full of servants, each of them meticulously preparing various food dishes that Heinz didn’t recognize. He was pretty sure each dish would have some weird French name he’d never be able to pronounce.

Heinz reached for one of the pastries on a large platter, but something hard and flat smacked the back of his hand.

“That hurts!” Heinz protested, cradling his stinging hand against his body.

“Exactly why I did it,” the maid raised the spatula again. “If you hadn’t skipped lunch to work on another ridiculous doohickey, you would actually be focused on cleaning the parlor like Lord Roger ordered and not on causing trouble.”

“Lord Roger? What, being universally admired isn’t good enough for him anymore? Now he’s gotta be worshipped too?” Heinz complained.

The maid rolled her eyes. “I don’t like this job any more than you. I’m just the one who keeps everything organized so the other maids can have a place of employment and the socialites can flirt with the world’s handsomest bachelor at dinner parties.”

Given how the other maids were giggling over their handsome employer, Heinz was just glad he found the only other sane person in this stupid manor.

Besides, if Roger was so rich, he should at least give them better uniforms.

Like a lab coat, for instance.

“And no, none of us worship Lord Roger. It’s just a title. I can’t speak for the socialites though,” the maid shrugged. “Let me guess. You hit your head and need a brief refresher on stuff again.”

“Why does everyone think I hit my head?” Heinz scowled. “I’ve been concussion-free for the past month!”

The smell of the pastries was too delicious to resist, and Heinz reached for the platter again.

This time, the maid just sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. You can have two, on the condition that you clean the parlor afterwards. The dinner party starts at seven tonight, so make sure it’s done by then.”

Heinz snagged two pastries, which flaked in his hand as he bit down on them. He had to hand it to Roger. He definitely knew how to hire good cooks.

“I can do that,” Heinz agreed. “You got a phone? I gotta order some batteries for my Fairy Tale-inator because I couldn’t find any in this house. What’s up with that? Batteries are a lifesaver. It’s like you’re living in medieval Drusselstein! Though there really isn’t much of a difference between medieval and modern Drusselstein, since they’ve both never had the wonders of indoor plumbing. If I have time maybe I could rig up some Sweep-inator or Featherduster-inator up and have the parlor clean in a jiffy.”

“Okay, now you’re just making words up,” the maid sighed. “No idea what a phone is and I don’t really care.”

“You know, a phone! That thing you use to call people so you’re not an antisocial shut-in! It’s got a bunch of buttons with numbers?”

Heinz would’ve pulled out his own cell phone as a reference, but the jerk portal had stolen it too.

“Melanie, I’m almost done with the roast beef!” one of the maids shouted, grunting as she hefted a large pot onto the counter. “Leave the weirdo alone so you can make sure this can satisfy Lord Roger’s taste!”

“Alright, you’ve had your food,” Melanie snapped as she pushed him out of the kitchen. Heinz grabbed a muffin from a nearby counter, shoving it into his mouth before Melanie could force him to put it down. “Get to the parlor and let the rest of us work in peace.”

“Funny how your name is Melanie, cause Roger’s got a secretary with a name like yours. Though maybe it was Melody or Mariana in her case. I know it started with ‘M’,” Heinz said, his words somewhat garbled by the crumbs in his mouth.

Melanie shoved a broom into his hands and forcefully pointed upstairs, tapping the spatula against her thigh as if itching for an excuse to use it.

Heinz scurried back to the parlor, not wanting to be on the receiving end of Melanie’s spatula for a second time.

                                                       ----------

Half an hour later, Heinz developed a burning hatred for mahogany. The mantle was mahogany. The upholstery was mahogany. The bannisters were mahogany.

Everything seemed to be made of the luxurious, expensive wood.

Heinz sneezed as he wiped a thin layer of dust off a couch leg. “This isn’t gonna be good for my allergies,” he muttered. “Not to mention, Roger totally lied. I don’t know why he was saying this place was neglected. Looks fine to me. But I guess that’s the nice thing about being the boss. Make your underlings perform menial tasks. When I’m ruler of the Tri-State Area, I’m going to make Roger dust the inator room. Which is going to be huge. Probably gonna need another wing on City Hall for that.”

The repetitive work of dusting, polishing, and waxing the wood wouldn’t be as bad with the appropriate soundtrack. But since he couldn’t get cell service in this place to contact the Danville Chorus Girl Union, he’d just have to provide his own music.

Good thing he knew the Love Handel Reunion Album with Special Thanks to the Flynn-Fletcher Family by heart. The title was a bit long, but hey, it was the best album they put out since Albuquerque ’83.

He mopped the floor to the tune of You Snuck Your Way Right Into My Heart, making a mental note to hire the band for another musical number within a flashback. They did a good job with it the first time around, not even complaining about the copyright infringement.

Just as he finished the second verse, heavy footsteps thundered on the staircase, accompanied by loud barking.

Heinz knew that cold, unfeeling stomp, even if he hadn’t heard it since his teenage years.

He fumbled with the mop handle he’d been using as a microphone, his knuckles turning chalk-white from his tight grip. He could almost pretend that the mop handle would prevent his heart from leaping out of his throat.

Heinz was aware that he was just moving the mop in small, repetitive circles and not getting any actual cleaning done, but the motion prevented him from looking at the staircase.

It was bad enough that he was stuck as Roger’s servant, and now his father had to be here too.

This would definitely set him back on the whole ‘make my family respect me’ thing.

A small nose poked around the corner of a fancy cabinet, and a small mouse crawled away from its hiding spot, stopping occasionally to scent the air.

Then a dog growled, which sent the entire pack into a chorus of excited barking. The mouse scampered back to the cabinet.

For a brief moment, Heinz heard the scrabble of paws on the freshly mopped tile, then a white blur slammed into the bucket, splashing soap and water all over the floor and couch. The rest of the dogs gathered around the cabinet, sniffing around the empty space between the wood and floor and barking at the mouse as if that would somehow lure it out of hiding.

The entire pack of dogs were large, white spitzenhounds that looked exactly like Only Son.

“Whoa, how many games of Poke the Goozim with a Stick did you have to play to get all those dogs?” Heinz asked before he could stop himself.

“HALT!” Father roared.

Heinz stiffened, the mop falling to the floor with an echoing clatter. The dogs whined and curled their tails between their legs, slinking back to Father with their heads down. While the command didn’t seem directed at him, he still instinctively snapped upright into a militaristic stance, unable to control his body’s reaction from that primal fear of harsh punishment.

Father’s hair and beard were white from advanced age, but it didn’t relieve Heinz’s fear of his wrath. Father jabbed a bony finger into Heinz’s chest.

Heinz didn’t make eye contact. It would only make him angrier.

“Get rid of him, Dooferella,” Father pointed to the soaking wet dog that had knocked over the bucket. The wet dog nosed Father’s hand, but that only earned him a harsh slap to the nose.

The rest of the dogs gathered around Father as he marched out of the room, leaving a trail of muddy bootprints behind him.

“Disappointment,” Father sneered, the word echoing off the high walls. Roger’s manor had some really good acoustics.

Heinz wasn’t sure if the word was being directed at him or the dog.

A mess of muddy footprints, soap, and grimy water stained the parlor, erasing all of Heinz’s progress. The couch cushions were discolored, and the water and mud mixed to create an unsightly brown puddle.

So this is what Cinderella must’ve felt like.

It wasn’t a good feeling either.

[sun-to-my-luna]

#XVIII

― the time has come.

The focus of today is Camila’s self-titled album “Camila.” Depending on the person music has a variety of interpretation, and today we’ll be looking {into it}, and at other things.  Not from the average CS perspective. Not from the general public perspective, but from a totally different perspective.

ps. want to mention beforehand that I know I don’t usually talk about darker shit, but because it makes sense I feel like I should.

Anyways as we all know IHQ was placed in the intro of the “CITC” MV for promotional reasons, and they both  weren’t  put onto her album.  IHQ  was simply released as a single for the sole purpose of drama. It either left everyone wondering who it was really about, or confirmed the narrative that there was a nonexistent grudge.

When someone first listens to “I Have Questions” it sounds like a somber song aimed at a love interest, or possibly the girls of Fifth Harmony. Butー there’s one possibility no one seems to think about.

Maybe the song is towards multiple people, or at least for someone else. “Them” or those that control every aspect of her life except for what’s actually private.

This theoretical analysis will be divided into three parts.

When this was posted the “LAND vs. C” narrative had already been put into motion. Everyone else (GP) was lead to believe that the song was supposedly about the group when in fact it most likely wasn’t. The girls were out having fun...but Camila was stuck  in a hotel bathroom all day writing songs? It doesn’t make sense, unless she was actually being forced to work on her album...which was later delayed on purpose.

I.

I’ll start with this string of tweets.

The guy in the tweet above is the SND at Interscope Records, and he is giving a power statement in that tweet  that says, “ They work for you. You do as you’re told,” or “You don’t tell them how to do their job.”

That same day underneath that tweet he received a comment from Chippy who I completely agreed with, but “Marcus” here  seemed to disagree, and answered back sarcastically.

Then on May 27th he tweeted this. *cough* Are you referring to MJ? *cough*

I noticed this tweet on a different account run by someone else from the #E*** clan.

“ーThe Artist is doing mostly all of the work, & the label is just the #plug. The machine.. labels don’t even care if an artist doesn’t sell, they’re making money from streaming & singles & shenanigans (PR, Scandals, and Media..etc.)”

He’s right, but the thing I found the most interesting is he used the term “ machine” (similar to Chely Wright) to describe the big labels.

II.

***This next section is going to get a bit dark.***

All kinds of stuff has been mentioned on my blog before like “the dark web”, but nothing quite similar to the level of this. I’m going to explain it only briefly.

Commercial cult manipulation:

What is a cult? A cult is a group of people who organize around a strong authority figure in this case a multi-level marketing organization,  aka. “Major Label.”  Cults attempt to expand their influence for the purpose of money. They change someone’s old identity with a new one. The person may not have chosen that identity.

Before a celebrity becomes a“celebrity” in the entertainment industry they’re a normal person with a normal life under the radar.  After they get into a position of  known status they have to maintain  an image (that they don’t choose), and  they need to maintain their brand. 

Because that’s what they become, a brand that makes other  people money.

Edgar Schein described the process of “coercive persuasion” as a 3 stage process.

“an unfreezing of the identity” - breaking the person down

“changing” -  the change that should happen to the person

“refreezing” - Reinforcing the new identity.  

Everyone in Fifth Harmony had been assigned a certain role since the beginning, and if you watch interviews you’ll see that clearly enough. We’ve even mentioned here on tumblr before; how they break an artist down only to  build that artist’s image up again, and that’s a constant change.

a.

Mind Control:

Bare in mind:  mind control in a cult setting is a system that messes with someone’s identity

Mind control is not brainwashing

The people involved unwittingly participate, by cooperating with their controllers, and giving them private information that they don’t  know will be used against them.  Mind control in a commercial cult setting is achieved by placing a person in a social environment where in order to function, they have to replace their old identity, and adhere to the new identity.

Emotional Control:

Fear and guilt are central to any thought reform/mind control program. Cult tactics include:  inducing fears and phobias  in group members to allow the leadership to maintain control. Members can  believe that all sorts of horrible things may happen if they don't follow the  rules.

For example: If you come out, then you’ll lose fans or won’t have a career.

Alyson Stoner:

+ Plus many more.

They lose the freedom to choose for themselves, the freedom to do what they want, have the relationships they want or even eat what they like.

“Mind control may be largely understood by analysis of the three components described by Leon Festinger, a psychologist, in what has become known as the "cognitive dissonance theory.”“

These components are control of behavior, control of thoughts, and control of emo­tions.

b.

Behavior Control:

Behavior control is the regulation of an individual's physical reality. It includes the control of his environment— what clothing he wears, what food he eats, how much sleep he gets—as well as  other actions he performs.

This need for behavior control is the reason most cults give a very rigid schedule for their members.

We know they’re always over-working her.

 In addition, new diets and eating schedules also can have a disorienting effect. (Lost a little wight because I wasn’t eating.) After someone has been broken down, they must be built up again as the "new man" (or "new woman," as the case may be.)

In a mind control environment, freedom of choice is the first thing that one loses. The reason for that loss is  simple: the cult member is no longer themselves. Then, without warning, they seem to become their old self, with their old attitudes and mannerisms. Just as suddenly, they flip back to being a stranger.

Now obviously I’m not saying they’re a part of commercial cult manipulation. What I’m saying is there’s so much more shit that happens in the music industry  that we don’t know if they could be or not.   Cardi B has said it herself on instagram live, “ People have evil intentions around you. The Music Industry is more fucked up than the streets. The streets are way easier.” Anyways with that being:

III.

Lyrical  Analysis―

Why did you leave me here to burn?

 I’m way too young to be this hurt.

I feel doomed in hotel rooms staring straight up at the wall.

Camila was no longer a part of the Fifth Harmony partnership which means she was rarely getting paid for merch, and for preforming. They were forcibly making her a solo artist while she was still in the group, and they were most likely feeding her ideas  about it since 2015, even though she still wanted to be a part of  the group.  (Notice how Camila/Roger worded the statement. Not once were the girls mentioned, only the brand, aka Fifth Harmony.)

―“I was shocked to read the statement the Fifth Harmony account posted without my knowing. Saying that they were just informed through my representatives that I was “leaving the group” is simply not true.  I did not intend to end things with Fifth Harmony this way.”

She was probably working non-stop on her album all through out the 7/27 tour, and if that was the case it wouldn’t surprise me if she felt stressed, or tired.

One example is during the 7/27 tour in St. Louis when she had an anxiety attack, and couldn’t preform, but still preformed the next day. Panic attacks can happen because of demanding situations, or stress whether it be physical, emotional, or psychological.

Do you care,  Do you care?  Why don’t you care?

I gave you all of me

My blood my sweat  my heart and my tears

Why don’t you care?

{Camila}:  “They were actually working us to the fucking bone.”

{Lauren to Ally}: “ They’re making decisions on a regular basis to fuck us over, to make us literal slaves Ally.. we’re doing fucking labor everyday, and we see nothing.”

NUMBER 1  tell me who do you think you are?

You’ve got some nerve trying to tear my faith apart.

NUMBER 2  why would you try to play me for a fool?

I should've never trusted you.

The Camila from 2014 who was just a girl with big dreams, and the Camila from 2016 the girl that was feeling doomed inside hotel rooms... have two very different demeanors.

Yes, it’s true  bands never last a long time together, but they made the fans that she loved hate her. That way she wouldn’t have a choice, but to leave because they didn’t want her in the group anymore. They made her want to leave. They pushed the solo idea onto her.  They kicked her off of Fifth Harmony. They broke her down.  She was so tired, and you could tell.

NUMBER 3 why would you who you swore that you would be?

These people made it seem like she could trust them, and she believed that. Those people were supposed to be there for her. They were supposed to be her stepping stone. They were supposed to care. The only back they were looking out for though was their own. She would be the next rising “pop idol” and they did what they could to make it happen.

  Money is more important than someone else’s emotions, and health to them.

Don’t believe me? Ask Lauren Jauregui’s knee infection.

With that I leave you this:

No matter how successful someone is, or how happy someone looks it  doesn’t mean that they’re actually happy.  There’s a lot of things that go on behind the scenes that nobody knows about. You may think you know, but you don’t. They show you 10% of their life on social media, but that doesn’t mean you automatically know 90% of their life. You may talk to them for 5- 15 minutes, but that doesn’t mean you know what they’re going through. Make sure you show them love. Make sure you show them support. Make sure they know that no matter what they’re going through they have a fan base that won’t ever stop appreciating them even if they end up being  poor.   Show them you care no matter what. Show them you love them for them and not just because they’re “famous.” If you’re lucky enough give them the longest hug you can, because not everyone can.