#but china confirmed her part in the film is small so like

[thetimelordbatgirl]

So I watched the teaser for Red and I have lots of questions:

Why Cinderella’s hair and Chloe’s hair blue?

Isn’t the actress for Chloe half white?

Why there’s a Merlin Academy hall of fame in Auradon?

Why Queen of hearts have a beef with Cinderella? Isn’t that supposed to be Lady Tremaine?

Why Uma is principal?

Why didn’t they change Beast’s statue to Ben’s?

Isn’t Wonderland an imagination in Alice’s head?

Why the Villains are considered VKs?

Why the heroes are in school with the villains? Especially Jasmine, Aladdin and Cinderella?

What’s going on with this?💀

Answering in order here:

*Honestly no fucking clue- I assume its because they want their main characters to have colorful hair like the prior main characters in Descendants 1-3, but even their hair looked better then Cinderella's, both young and old, and Chloe's blue hair. I really don't get why they were allergic to just, letting Brandy and Malia keep their normal hair instead of shoving ugly blue wigs onto them, but... *I do not know about Malia Baker's ethncitiy, I just know with the ugly blue wig and the lighting on that photo shoot, she looks light- not as light as Audrey did at times in D3 with her blonde hair, but you know, its up there. I do know Descendants fucked up when announcing this whole film, aka implying Dara Renee was casted as Chloe, but nope, turns out Dara is playing Ulyana, Ursula's latest younger sister, and Malia Baker is playing Chloe...so don't know what the fuck happened with Descendants there but....and if Malia is half-white...yeah I guess I wouldn't be surprised with Descendants and their track record with POC....or actually Hollywood in general, sufferer of Fate the Winx Saga here... *I can only assume its because Auradon Prep took Merlin Academy's place when Beast established it and such. How it affects what Ben said in D1: "Auradon prep, originally built over 300 years ago and converted into a high school by my father when he became king." can only be described as contunity/timeline breaking....aka Descendants favorite past time- but because of this, I just guess they count Merlin Academy students as ones to honor, since they learnt here once as well. *I have zero fucking clue WHY Cinderella and Queen Of Hearts have beef beyond someone in the Descendants writing room likely threw darts randomly and whoever they landed on would be parents of main characters and also have random as fuck beef- though bold to assume they'd allow Tremaine and Cinderella to have beef, D3 basically at the end was pro-forcing victims to forgive their abusers so like...

*Uma's teaser established that she was asked by Mal (no D*ve means get used to Descendants finding ways to mention Mal in this film) to become principle of Auradon Prep, so uh, that's why- no clue where Fairy Godmother is but she is confirmed to be returning in the movie so like- personally, I don't think Uma as principle makes sense character wise, but I do also see the reasoning other's have used for this character decision so like...its not the worst thing in this film. *I'm pretty sure the statue is less of a current ruler thing and more of a founder thing, since Ben said his father wanted it to remind people anything is possible when Beast founded Auradon Prep. I also don't really see Ben caring much for a statue of himself, since he doesn't give me the vibes of that. Plus, bold of you to assume Descendants films would give Ben a statue, they'd give Mal one over him with how Ben was treated in D3 in comparison to Ben, the actual ruler, during the meeting scene. *In terms of the animated film only? The vibes are that yes, Alice imagined Wonderland after dozing off, since she wakes up back in reality just as shit is hitting the fan. But let's be real, Descendants stopped caring about keeping to the animated films a while back, so they just gonna make Wonderland a real place and roll with it basically. *Answering those two together really on the VKs thing and the school thing: because Descendants is now entering EAH/SFGAE rip off terrority really, aka the idea of future fairy tale heroes and villains attending school together basically. Therefore, all animated films stuff and Descendants contunity/timeline is thrown out the window in favor of this. Like Jasmine and Aladdin logically should not be meeting at this point because they meet first time in animated and Jasmine was kept inside the palace her whole life?? Cinderella at this age would technically be being forced to be step-family's servant and therefore not likely allowed to attend school even? FUCK IT- rip off time! Not like EAH can do much since Mattel basically killed it in the end and SFGAE is doing god knows what right now...

And to that last question: "What's going on with this? 💀" Good question! I do not fucking know. I just know I wish someone would put the dumpster fire out already, but when this movie was announced, it was two movies, so god help us if they go ahead with the second one...

[thelovelyghostwriter]

Non-anime Asian TV Shows that I liked

This is just a short list of some Asian TV shows I liked, list is not exhaustive. Thank you  @cautionworksstuff​ for encouraging me to do this since you wanted to know more about other foreign TV shows other than anime. 

When I say non-anime, it means shows that are not Japanese animated series. 

1. Kingdom [Netflix] (South Korea)

This series hits HARD. It’s an original Korean Netflix series. Now, there’s a lot of shows/movies that are named “Kingdom”, so let me clear about this one: this is the one that is set with a Zombie apocalypse during the Joseon period. 

It follows the story of the Crown Prince who is being framed for treachery by his evil stepmom (the Empress) and her clan, as soon as his father died. In the midst of that, a disease outbreak happens that turns everyone into zombies, and the Prince struggles to avoid being defeated by the corrupted government officials as well as to save his people from the zombie apocalypse. 

What makes this one stand out from series/movies like The Walking Dead are two things: 1) the political setting - while there is a zombie outbreak, it’s also the battle for power, 2) the historical setting - the guns used here are very limited, and the science/medicine explained behind this outbreak is not like “oh due to biotech experiment gone wrong”, 3) unlike Walking Dead, they actually explained the cause of the illness, the cures and the weaknesses. 

They are going to come up with a new one-episode spin-off(?) this month. 

2. Girl from Nowhere (Thailand) 

This is also available on Netflix. This series follow a character named Nanno, who goes to various schools as the new girl. In the second episode, she’s revealed to be some sort of immortal entity that goes on to expose the sins and wrongful acts of parents, teachers and students. She then punishes them as some form of karma. Beware, some episodes are downright disturbing and only for mature audience. 

I don’t have a confirmation of this, but according to Wikipedia and actress Chicha Amatayakul, the character Nanno draws inspiration from Junji Ito’s Tomie, and the similarities are very obvious. From the way the people react to her, the hairstyle and the even to the beauty mark near the eye, the similarities are very obvious. 

One difference though, I must say, is that Nanno is an extremely charming character as compared to Tomie. You will really root for her and can’t help but like her presence, even if she’s a little scary. When I read Tomie, I didn’t exactly felt the same magnetic pull as Nanno did for me. Season 1 was really good. Season 2 was more brutal but I think Season 1 was slightly better. 

3. Trese (Philippines)

This was actually based on a Filipino comic series, with the same name. I had actually waited for this series to be animated. This series features Filipino supernatural beings. I had always wondered how it’ll be like if there was a cool anime about Filipino mythological creatures, such as the manananngal, aswang, tikbalang etc. I think their designs and stories are interesting and not very talked about in the media. 

I had once complained about this. We have so many interesting Filipino mythological creatures, but why do we focus on mostly drama series on love and family, and not come up with a horror series featuring them? 

This one’s available on Netflix as well, and it’s in three audios: English, Filipino and Japanese. I do recommend the Filipino audio because the pronunciation of the creatures are better. But that might be just me listening to my native language. 

Although, just a tiny criticism - there are only six episodes so far. All in less than 30 minutes. This was an issue for me and also my family who had watched it because we felt the pacing was too fast. They didn’t explain what the creatures were, what they do, which can be confusing for people who are not familiar with the mythology. Yeah, I really think it’s because the pacing was fast due to the small number of episodes. If they slowed down, it would be great. Hopefully we get more episodes the next season. 

4. Meteor Garden (Taiwan) [2001] OR Boys over Flowers (South Korea) OR Hana Yori Dango (Japan) 

This was adapted from a manga called “Hana Yori Dango” (Boys over Flowers). It has been adapted in numerous shows, with Japan doing the first live action film in 1995. 

The one that I had watched is the Taiwanese drama version, Meteor Garden (2001 version). There was also a Korean drama adaptation called “Boys over Flowers”. I didn’t watch that one but quite a number of my friends did. There was also the Japanese adaptation, as well as Thai and Chinese adaptation of it. I can’t say for sure which one is the best because I only remember watching the Taiwanese (2001) version and it’s close to my heart. The Taiwanese (2001), South Korean and Japanese drama versions are often being compared. I’ll let you guys decide based on this information.  

I don’t remember much from the plot, although it was this drama was very hyped back then.

This was the summary on Wikipedia: 

It tells the story of Tsukushi Makino, a girl from a middle class family, whose mother enrolled her in an elite high school to compete with the families from her husband's company. While at Eitoku, she encounters the F4, a gang of four young men who are children of Japan's wealthiest families, and who bully anyone that gets in their way.

5. The Little Nyonya [2008] (Singapore)

Saving the last for the one that resides a special place in my heart, and perhaps for a lot of people in Singapore. 

Words cannot describe how much this was well-liked in Singapore. I remember everyone praising this. This was hands-down one of THE BEST drama ever produced in Singapore. I remember coming home, waiting at I think 8pm? Just to tune into local TV and then watch this show for a good 40minutes. I know they did a remake in China, which I didn’t watch, but I highly recommend the Singaporean version (since it’s the original and the setting is in Singapore/Malaysia anyway). 

This series really introduced the Peranakan culture to the Singaporean audience. I like to think this story has two parts where it follows the story of a Nyonya (Peranakan Chinese woman). 

The first part’s setting is during WW2. Huang Ju Xiang, a woman born into a Peranakan family and her mother was a 2nd wife. Because of her mother’s status, she’s been ostracised by her family and is tasked to do the household like a servant. She meets a Japanese man and yeah, since it’s in the midst of WW2, their love story was kinda “forbidden” too. The first part is actually my favourite. 

The second part follows the story of their daughter, Yue Niang Yamamoto. This story is longer and Yuening has to face the same type of ostracisation her mother had endured by the Huang family. 

[coldwind-shiningstars]

ok ok prompts!!! so, I would be Delighted by some more qinxiyao family fic (deleted scenes or things you might have wanted to include in the big bang fic but didn't get to?), or, alternately, anything in the modern tcgf au? anything at all; they're all so excellent <3

both of these are such excellent prompts I started working on both of them, but the modern au got finished first! I’ll probably both a) do a lot of edits on this and b) do the qinxiyao family fic in a week or so, but here this is for now. Also, for those not in James and my brains, this is a very small part of a very large AU! Small note, all characters appearing in this fic are trans; however, He Xuan is still very much an egg and so they are referred to throughout the fic as “he/him,” although SQX at least is aware of this and wondering when to bring it up with her. She is, however, unaware that “Ming Yi” is a stolen identity and He Xuan is actually the eco-terrorist who’s been blowing up her brother’s fish hatcheries. It’s a long story. 

If Xie Lian was being honest, he didn't much like the internet. It was so bright and everything moved too fast. People used a bewildering array of slang and images. It was surprisingly difficult to avoid spending hours reading upsetting news stories. People spent days arguing about pornography. 

Also, his phone didn't really connect to WiFi very well. Even by the loosest definitions of the word, he hardly counted as a netizen.

People were usually shocked when he told them this, though, because Xie Lian's best friend was one of China's most popular beauty influencers.

Xie Lian's face appeared on her Weibo with some regularity. She talked about him often. He'd gone viral three separate times on Douyin, entirely accidentally. 

What Shi Qingxuan was most famous for, however, was makeup tutorials. He had never actually appeared in one of these, but, since there were very few people in the world capable of saying no to a very determined Shi Qingxuan, this was about to change. He was used to being in her charmingly decorated little apartment but not quite used to becoming a decorated thing himself. He'd even put on one of the outfits Hua Cheng had designed and sewn for him, based on some of his old dance costumes and a few frantic weeks of historical research, and kept swishing the skirts around his legs.

Shi Qingxuan started setting up, chattering away to Xie Lian as she did. "You need anything before we start? Bathroom, water, a snack? I edit my videos pretty heavily, so we can always take a break, but it’s good to be comfy." 

"No, I'm fine," Xie Lian said, and then had to close his eyes when she clicked on the ring light.

He fiddled with the makeup compacts laid out on the table.

Shi Qingxuan adjusted her light, scootched Xie Lian’s chair a little to the left and a little back, and then fiddled with the camera. It was quite the involved operation, Xie Lian thought; he knew a lot went into making videos, but he hadn’t realized it took this much effort before the camera was even on. Shi Qingxuan had done his makeup before, of course, but mostly just for fun, or something she could take a picture of and post on Weibo. It had been so long since he'd been filmed.

He watched Shi Qingxuan press record on her camera and then sit back and flash it a smile, putting on her Influencer Face. She squeezed his hand under the table.

“Hi everyone, welcome to Feng Shi!” she said, chirpy. “I’m Shi Qingxuan, and today we’re doing xianxia makeup with my good friend, Xie Lian. Now, for this look, we’re going to need…”

When Xie Lian was little, the makeup artists for his dance troupe had known he took about twice as long as anyone else did to get his makeup done. He was the darling of the company, though, so this was tolerated with fondness.

He didn't like the way the foundation felt on his face when it dried. His eyes watered when they put on eyeliner. He liked to spin his chair from side to side. 

He'd had much worse things on his face than paint since then, and had learned how to be still.

Shi Qingxuan patted his hand cheerfully as she pulled out the setting powder. 

"You're always one of my favorite models," she said. "You're so photogenic and so patient!"

"Thank you," Xie Lian said, and held still while she brushed it in his face.

Ruoye, probably noticing the warmth, slithered out of Xie Lian's robes and curled up on top of his head so she could get the full blast of heat from the ring light. She flickered out her tongue to scent Shi Qingxuan when she leaned in with a liquid eyeliner pen.

Shi Qingxuan made little kissy sounds at her, which only confirmed Xie Lian's certainty that he had good taste in friends. Most people were startled by Ruoye originally, but how they responded to her after Xie Lian introduced them was a good litmus test.

Ruoye settled in, and Xie Lian reached up a finger to stroke her scales. 

He was feeling good, content and warm, happy to sit still. Then the apartment door clicked open, and Xie Lian stiffened.

"Ming-xiong? Is that you?" Shi Qingxuan called.

Ming Yi mumbled something back and shuffled into the room, buried deep in his black hoodie. As always, Xie Lian's first thought upon seeing him was wondering how he could see through all that hair.

The hoodie had a fish skeleton painted on it that he recognized instantly as one of Hua Cheng's drawings; it made Xie Lian smile, thinking of how insistent San Lang was that they absolutely weren't friends, no way, there was no particular reason he would make custom hoodies for Ming Yi. The fish were a coincidence. He’d even made Ming Yi custom salmon breakup boots while proclaiming it meant nothing. 

Xie Lian, wearing an elaborate hanfu Hua Cheng had designed, sewn, and embroidered himself, even making him a period-appropriate duduo to flatten his chest, absolutely did not buy any of these excuses. Hua Cheng covered people he cared about with his art. 

Ming Yi grunted a greeting and wandered off, probably to raid the fridge. Shi Qingxuan winked at Xie Lian.

“I’ll edit most of this out,” she said, conspiratorial, “But my viewers love Ming-xiong. Especially when he’s out of focus in the background. They’ve made memes. I haven’t told them anything about him. It’s good to keep a little mystery! It keeps people watching.”

Xie Lian, having no real idea what she was talking about, smiled and suppressed his instinct to nod. Shi Qingxuan began painting a flower on his forehead with red pigment.

Finally, Shi Qingxuan gently removed Ruoye from Xie Lian’s head and shoulders and settled a wig cap over his hair, then the wig she’d pre-prepared. A few bobby pins, a few tucks, and then she stepped back, grinning.

“Ta-dah! How do you like it, taizi dianxia?”

“It’s beautiful,” Xie Lian said, honestly.

“We’ll end the video here, I think,” she said, “But I’ll get some posed photos of you to edit in here if that’s alright. Oh, tilt your head back and forth a little? Good. Smile at the camera!”

Shi Qingxuan fluttered her fingers at the camera in a wave; Xie Lian waved too, a few seconds later. As she leaned forward to click off the camera he straightened his legs out to try and loosen them up. His knees made terrible crunching sounds as they stretched. 

“You can take a little break if you want,” Shi Qingxuan said. “I’ll set up the area where we’ll take photos, but I’ll try to make it quick. You’re a darling for sitting through all this, you know?"

She was already bustling around again. She seemed to have an endless fountain of energy; Xie Lian found it admirable. He laid flat on his back on her bed, careful to not get makeup on her sheets or wrinkle his clothes. Ming Yi sat next to him, eating shrimp chips. He put a few directly into Xie Lian's mouth, feeding him like a little bird, and Xie Lian felt warm. Like Hua Cheng, it could be hard to know when Ming Yi liked you, but there were ways to tell.

He let Shi Qingxuan pose him until she was satisfied with the numbers of pictures she’d taken, trying very hard not to feel like the chuunibyou teenager he’d once been. He felt himself mostly immune to embarrassment at this point, but he supposed there were always exceptions.

Eventually, they cleaned up, although Xie Lian had promised Hua Cheng to show off the full look, so he didn’t get changed or clean his face. 

“I’ll buy dinner,” Shi Qingxuan said. “We deserve it. You too, Ming-xiong!”

She herded them both out of the apartment and down the street to a small noodles stall. They all ordered (in He Xuan’s case, three bowls) and Xie Lian was fumbling for his phone when he heard Shi Qingxuan cheerfully tell the clerk to put it all on the same ticket. She tapped her phone to pay for it all before Xie Lian could protest.

A few people asked Xie Lian for pictures as they ate. He posed obligingly, hoping he hadn't spilled any sauce on his clothes while eating. When he was done, he packed up his leftovers, let Shi Qingxuan nag him into calling a Didi instead of trying to walk home, and bid both her and Ming Yi farewell. Ruoye, who had spent most of the time they were eating in Xie Lian's backpack, made a brief appearance too like she wanted to say goodbye as well.

Xie Lian clicked his own apartment door closed quietly and tiptoed over to slide his leftovers into the refrigerator. Down the hall, a light shone out from underneath Hua Cheng's studio door.

There was an old picture of the two of them on the fridge; it was them in a hospital pediatric ward group room. Xie Lian, age fifteen, was beaming at the camera, his "FIGHT! JUVENILE SLE" shirt a bright red and his pants an immaculate white. Next to him, Hua Cheng, his right eye patched with patterned tape, bald and tiny, stared up at him with devotion. 

Ruoye bonked her head gently on the freezer door. Xie Lian pulled out one of her mice and slid her gently into her tank before giving her the treat; she was swallowing the mouse as he left the kitchen.

Hua Cheng turned to him as Xie Lian opened the door to his studio. His eye got wide, and his face looked like it did sometimes when he looked at Xie Lian, like he was seeing something holy. He slid his headphones off his ears.

Xie Lian did a little twirl for him, letting him see the way the fabric moved, and then tilted his face up for a kiss when Hua Cheng came over to him.

“Gege, you look beautiful,” he said.

“San Lang,” said Xie Lian. “It’s all you and Qingxuan. I’ll get her to send you the pictures later.”

Hua Cheng kissed the top of his head. He was dressed down, in a soft shirt and pants, not wearing his prosthetic eye. Xie Lian leaned his head into Hua Cheng’s chest.

“Gege seems tired,” Hua Cheng said. “Would you like to get ready for bed? Do you need dinner or your medicine? I can help you take all that off.”

“San Lang, you’re working,” Xie Lian said. “I already ate, so I think I’d like to sleep. But you don’t have to help.”

"Gege is more important than commissions," Hua Cheng said, and Xie Lian let him bundle him off to bed.

post about prompts! 

[nothingnothingaaa]

‘We all have Hoop Dreams’: Bittersweet tale of first 'reality TV show'

By Motez Bishara, May 4 2019 (CNN)

When Dwyane Wade was a 12-year-old shooting jumpers on the playgrounds of Chicago, a movie came out that would help navigate him through his future Hall of Fame career.

Released in 1994, "Hoop Dreams" shadowed the bumpy fortunes of Arthur Agee and William Gates, two inner-city Chicago youths dreaming of NBA stardom.

Wade's path to the Final Four with Marquette and championships with the Miami Heat would be lined with the same challenges faced by Agee and Gates, including the pressures of injury and young parenting, and the avoidance of drugs and gun violence.

Twenty-five years since its premier, "Hoop Dreams" still impacts Wade. "I watched it many times, and it resonated with me because we all have hoop dreams," the recently retired three-time NBA champion tells CNN.

"Growing up in Chicago you struggle," he adds, "I look at "Hoop Dreams" and I can see myself in those individuals at the time."

Film critics like the late Roger Ebert lauded the three-hour documentary for exposing a side of America rarely depicted at the time: A class system stacked against the poor, coinciding with rising corruption in youth basketball.

Filmmakers Steve James (left), Peter Gilbert (centre) and Fred Marx worked on a very thin budget until three years into "Hoop Dreams," when they were able to secure enough funding for the project.

So what has changed since then?

College basketball is coming off a thrilling season, but faces intense scrutiny as a second corruption trial involving shady figures and illicit payments around the sport unravels in court. Meanwhile, Agee and Gates remain close -- bonded not just by their fame from "Hoop Dreams," but two devastating murders in their families.

"You can't script this stuff," says Gates, 47, a youth basketball coach in San Antonio, Texas, to CNN. "Our stories continue to (overlap) like that, because he lost Bo and we lost Curtis."

Gates' brother Curtis, a former high school star who flamed out, and Agee's father Bo were both featured on screen. Curtis was shot in 2001, reportedly in a dispute over a woman, while Bo - whose redemption from crack addiction and jail time was a seminal part of the film - was killed in a robbery three years later.

"It was very heartbreaking," adds Agee, who still lives in the West Side of Chicago, not far from where he grew up. "It's so eerie that me and William always say "Hoop Dreams" was a gift and a curse, and we both lost people that played a big part of our lives.

"And then for both of us not to make the NBA, you know, that eeriness, that gift and a curse is there."

Though neither athlete played in the NBA, both received college scholarships -- no small feat coming from the dire housing projects they grew up in.

Agee, 46, who attended Arkansas State, went on to play professionally in the now-defunct USBL and had a stint with the Harlem Globetrotters. He then turned to acting, with small parts in a film and commercials.

Agee remains tied to "Hoop Dreams," which provides his motivational speaking platform in schools, and still inspires viewers to send warm messages from places as far off as Australia and China. He also sells apparel inspired by the film, including a throwback jersey from his school days.

Gates was the more heralded of the two, receiving interest from top college basketball programs and a grant to attend the prestigious St. Joseph's high school -- the same school that is shown releasing Agee, seemingly for not playing well enough as a freshman.

But Gates blew out his knee at 16, then rushed back to the court after surgery and re-injured it. Though he played at Marquette University, the injury crippled his pro potential.

"For me, it's bittersweet on many levels," says Gates about the film which he has not watched in over 16 years. "It was a constant reminder of what could have been and what didn't happen, and also a reminder that Curtis is no longer here to hear his voice."

Nevertheless, he looks back on "Hoop Dreams" as a "life turning situation," one that led to an allegiance with Michael Jordan, who invited him to pickup games before his comeback with the Washington Wizards. (An injury derailed Gates' own tryout with the Wizards, however.)

"It has opened doors," he says. "It has done things that I never thought would happen in my life."

Dwyane Wade is pictured dunking the ball.

THE FIRST REALITY SHOW

What began as a short film idea from director Steve James and producer Frederick Marx to shoot Chicago playground basketball in 1987 with a budget of $2,000 quickly took on greater ambitions.

The pair hired Peter Gilbert as a cinematographer (later added as a producer), and the trio followed Gates and Agee on and off for nearly five years. With 250 hours of footage to edit, the production took seven years in total, eventually raising the $750,000 necessary for completion.

When it was finally released in 1994, "Hoop Dreams" went viral, though the term had not yet been coined. It was nominated for best film editing at the Oscars, but snubbed for best documentary and picture, which had critics like Ebert up in arms.

"I've actually gotten way more mileage personally as a filmmaker out of not being nominated than I ever would have by getting nominated," says James, who stays in contact with Agee and Gates. "Over the years a lot more people seem to be upset on our behalf than I was personally."

By the time it ended its theatrical run, "Hoop Dreams" became the then-highest grossing documentary of all time, paving the way for hundreds of sports documentaries and streaming series currently on air.

"I call it the first reality show," says Gates. "I think it was groundbreaking."

Gates' enrollment in Marquette was mirrored exactly 10 years later by Wade, who also struggled to qualify academically for an NCAA scholarship and sat out his first year for academic reasons, the university confirmed.

Wade shared other similarities with both Agee and Gates, including feeling the pressure to rush back to action after knee injury which required surgery at Marquette. Though the operation was successful, Wade later said it led to complications as a pro.

"I watched it when I was at Marquette from a different (angle), knowing that (Gates) was staying in the same dorm that I was standing in," says Wade, who -- also like Gates -- was caring for a child (son Zaire) while in college.

Wade was separated from his mother Jolinda at a young age when she succumbed to drugs, leading to spells in jail. Like Agee's father Bo, she turned to religion after getting clean, now serving as a church minister.

"Obviously, I was able to make it," but there are challenges, he adds. "What I learned at the time is you learn a lot about other people sharing their story."

William Gates was a 17-year-old high school junior when his daughter Alicia was born.

CONTROLLED CORRUPTION

Rewatching "Hoop Dreams" 25 years later lends perspective to how fast top college recruits are forced to grow up, and how much is at stake early on.

Gates' daughter was born when he was 17, during his junior year of high school. Trying to be a father and student while rehabilitating from two knee surgeries to make it as the next Isiah Thomas -- the former St Joe's and NBA star who makes a cameo in the movie -- became too much to bear.

By the movie's final scene, with his passion for the game already waning, Gates remarks, "When somebody says, 'When you get to the NBA, don't forget about me,' I should say to them, 'Well if I don't make it, you don't forget about me."

It's no wonder he needed a break from the sport by his third year at Marquette.

"I didn't feel like a 19 or 20 year-old-kid, I felt like a kid who had been working 10 to 12 years at a job," Gates says, estimating that basketball practice and travel would take up to 60 hours a week in college. "I had a lot on my plate."

Agee had his own growing up to do, with his academics thrown into disarray after his brief spell at St Joe's, followed by Bo walking out and his mother Sheila losing her job.

In one scene, Sheila cannot pay her electricity bill and the family is left without power, while a clearly humiliated Agee broods at the camera.

(The filmmakers pitched in to get the power back on, leaving that detail out of the film. "We didn't want to look self-serving, but we felt an obligation to do that much for them," says James.)

Agee transferred to Marshall High, leading the team on an improbable city championship and state semifinal run.

In recent years the public high school has been rocked by gun violence, leaving seven former basketball players dead and two paralysed, including Agee's ex-teammate Shawn Harrington.

"I didn't let St. Joe's defeat me; I didn't let my neighbourhood and my environment pull me in to gain drugs, carrying the guns -- that whole lifestyle," Agee reflects.

It helped that the teenagers had the right people on their sides. Gates and Agee admit they were given cash during their basketball ascent by the likes of so-called street agents, drug dealers and university affiliates who often helped promising players.

In "Hoop Dreams" Agee pays for Air Jordan gear at a store with money received from drug pushers. While at Arkansas State, he says a "big street pharmacist" whose team he played for in a high school summer league bought him a car.

"That was part of the deal," says Gates of being offered gifts from universities as a highly touted recruit, before committing to Marquette. "It was like, 'Hey, you need anything let us know.' And you let them know and they took care of stuff.

"Hey I need transportation, hey I need clothes, I need shoes. They figured out how to get it to you," he says. "They did it through a friend of the program that you didn't even know was a friend of the program. That's the way it was."

In response, Marquette said it "is committed to the highest ethical standards for the recruitment and retention of our student-athletes," while Arkansas State said it had no knowledge of Agee's car purchase and that "there are too many unknown variables to comment further about a relationship from approximately 25 years ago."

Arthur Agee was recruited to play at St Joseph Arthur Agee was recruited to play at St Joseph's prep school as an eighth grader. A year later he was asked to leave, and his parents were billed for tuition they struggled to pay for.

Arthur Agee was recruited to play at St Joseph's prep school as an eighth grader. A year later he was asked to leave, and his parents were billed for tuition they struggled to pay for.

Somewhat fittingly, Gates is now a full-time coach in the Amateur Athletic Union (AAU), the collection of summer leagues that insiders say has replaced high school basketball as the launching pad for college prospects.

Among the players that have passed through Team Hoop Dreams are all three of Gates' sons, William Jr., a recent graduate of Houston Baptist University, Jalon, a junior guard at Houston Baptist, and Marques, currently in high school.

AAU has come under fire by an ongoing FBI investigation involving sneaker companies funnelling money towards recruits to land at big university programs. The AAU told CNN it does not fund its teams, calling the situation an "apparel company scandal, not an AAU scandal."

"People are buying and selling players; it's a human trafficking market." says Michael Sokolove, author of "The Last Temptation of Rick Pitino," which sheds light on college basketball corruption.

Multiple federal investigations have led to guilty pleas from four college assistants on bribery charges, the conviction of an Adidas executive, and the firing of Pitino from Louisville.

Pitino maintains he had "no knowledge" of infractions during his tenure as Louisville's head coach. James Gatto, Adidas' former head of global sports marketing, is appealing his nine-month prison sentence for wire fraud and conspiracy charges in connection with a $100,000 offer to the father of a Louisville recruit.

With athletic wear companies paying hundreds of thousands of dollars to support top AAU programs, the potential to use them as a means to distribute money to the families of top players or an influential coach is high, says Sokolove.

"Some of this is laundered money. These teams can be used as pass through," he says, adding that the ultimate goal is to breed loyalty with players who become walking advertisements for the shoe companies on the court.

The stakes have become much higher to land top recruits like Gates was in the days of "Hoop Dreams," notes Sokolove. "There are more people with their hands in the cookie jar and the kids are largely pawns in this whole endeavour."

In 2017 the NCAA surpassed $1 billion in revenue, mostly through TV rights, while top players like Zion Williamson of Duke are limited to a compensation of tuition, room and board with a modest stipend.

Like many around the sport, Gates thinks college players need to get paid. He suggests universities contribute $100,000 towards a "graduation fund" for the player if he stays in school four years "to get prepared to live life."

Gates sees the current NBA age requirement of 19 as an obstacle towards paying black athletes, calling it a "controlled corruption" not seen in mostly white sports like baseball, tennis, golf or soccer.

"The two sports that are heavily dominated by African-Americans, it seems like there is always an issue when it comes to money," he says. (The NFL enforces a three-year rule before most college football players can turn pro.)

NCAA president Mark Emmert told the Associated Press this month that the organisation has "serious issues which require serious change," but paying players will remain unlikely.

William Gates (centre) is now an AAU coach in Texas. His sons William Jr. (left) and Jalon played together at Houston Baptist University.

PART OF A BIGGER STORY

Coinciding with the movie's anniversary, Gates and his wife Catherine just celebrated their 25th year of marriage. The eldest of their four children Alicia, who was born during filming, is 30 and works as a dental hygienist.

For years Gates would not allow his sons to watch all of "Hoop Dreams," fearing the scenes of his injuries would spook them. He finally relented, though Will Jr underwent four knee procedures of his own in college.

Agee has fathered five children, with his youngest Devin a budding youth basketball player in his own right. Devin's mother Jennifer Genovesi stood by Agee in the wake of a 2017 arrest after a woman accused him of battery.

Agee was quick to call James -- who he refers to as an uncle -- to assure him of his innocence. The charges were dropped shortly afterward.

"I'm part of a bigger story in this film. I never want to bring any despair or negativity into the story," Agee says. "He was like, 'We'll get through it together,' and that was good as that."

"I feel like they know that I'm here for them," says James, the film's director.

The special bond between the parties involved in the film was reflected once "Hoop Dreams," which was never expected to be a commercial success, caught fire. In a highly unusual step, Agee and Gates were made equal partners by the producers.

"They weren't just filmmakers," says Agee. "They came in over a period of time and got to know me and my family, and then stayed in touch."

Arthur Agee bought his mother Sheila a house with royalties earned from "Hoop Dreams." He now uses the film as material for his job in motivational speaking.

Gates and Agee first received nearly $200,000 each, and Agee promptly brought his parents a four-bedroom house in a suburb.

His mother, Sheila Agee, who was seen at the end of the movie graduating tops in her nursing class, relocated to Alabama in the wake of Bo's death.

After Curtis' murder, Gates was given an unlikely last shot at the NBA at age 29 with a tryout with the Chicago Bulls. But bad luck struck again when he caught the flu on the day of the workout.

"I said maybe God doesn't want me to play basketball," he reflects. "That's when my ministry life began to open up."

Gates received his master's in biblical studies and worked as a pastor at the Cabrini Green housing project he grew up in before settling in Texas.

He is thankful that Curtis got to meet Jordan before he was killed -- another imprint tied to his fame from the film.

"What came along with that was the responsibility to teach, educate, be a friend, have some compassion and show some understanding," Gates says.

"I've been very honoured, privileged and grateful to be part of "Hoop Dreams," he reflects. "It's been super amazing to be a part of something that has withstood the test of time."

[dinoyoongi]

Romance Is Dead

SYNOPSIS: You try to surprise Yoongi with a night full of romance but he manages to ruin all of your plans.

PAIRING: Yoongi x You

GENRE: Angst, Fluff

WARNINGS: Language, *Implied* smut

WORD COUNT: 4311

_________________________________

Yoongi: Practice ending in twenty. I'll be over after. Do you want me to bring anything?

You: Just yourself. ❤️

You drop your phone onto the counter, doing a quick study of the dining room. Plates, cutlery – check. Ambient lighting, candles – check. Dinner that you spent a whopping five hours slaving over – check. You had gone over this checklist in your head about six times now but it didn't seem enough. Everything needed to be absolutely perfect. It wasn't an anniversary or birthday, although you know Yoongi might momentarily suspect so when he walks in and sees your usual cluttered apartment so romantically decorated. Perhaps it was the marathons of dramas you've been binging lately or perhaps you were just hit with the lovebug, but you craved romance.

It wasn't that your relationship with Yoongi wasn't great. It definitely was. Your personalities fit together like a glove, you got along with each others friends and families, you made each other happy. You were … comfortable. And while the two of you had some memorably heated moments, it's been a long time since you felt that spark of excitement in your relationship. You didn't blame Yoongi though. Being one out of seven members of the biggest music group in the world at the moment, his mind was always preoccupied – recording songs, producing songs, learning choreography, filming videos and comeback appearances, putting on concerts, etc. You didn't begrudge him his job and you certainly didn't expect him to have the energy to initiate anything extra into your relationship.

So that's why you're going to do it instead. Tonight.

You have a three-part plan of action. First? Dinner. You've spent the majority of the week watching YouTube videos and cooking programs on cable, looking up and purchasing the necessary ingredients and utensils to make the greatest plate of carbonara that Yoongi has ever tasted. Second? A romantic movie. You've converted your living room into the ultimate cuddle area. Both couches have been rearranged and pushed against the wall. You've lined the width of your floor with pillows and blankets and bowls of snacks that you know he enjoys. You even rented a new release that you've heard is super romantic – The Sun Is Also a Star. And third? Well, after the cuddle session, being pressed up against Yoongi for so long, you know your body and you know what it will be craving. That's why you've saved and used two of your paychecks to purchase the most expensive, scandalous yet sexy black lace lingerie you could find.

You were definitely getting lucky tonight.

After making sure everything was in place in the dining room, living room and bedroom, you go to the mirror to confirm you still look as good now as you did an hour ago when you first got ready. You've worked hard on your hair and makeup and put legitimate effort into your outfit – a dark yellow sundress with a flowing, loose black cardigan. The lingerie feels uncomfortable under your clothes but at the same time you feel a boost of confidence knowing you're wearing such sexy undergarments. You can't wait for Yoongi to see them.

There's a beeping on the other side of your door and your heart immediately skips. Yoongi is here. Typing in the passcode to your apartment. It's showtime.

“Y/N, why is it so dark in here?” you hear your boyfriend grumble softly, kicking his shoes off at the front door. You whirl around the corner, meeting him at the entrance of the dining room. You take satisfaction in watching his eyes widen, moving up and down your body before settling on your face. “Why are you so dressed up? Did I forget plans or something?”

You giggle nervously. “No, I just felt like getting dolled up.”

You wait with bated breath for him to compliment you. Tell you that you look beautiful, that you look nice, that your hair looks shiny or your skin looks dewy. Something, anything. Instead, he shuffles past you into the dining room, tossing a plastic bag onto the table. You swallow down the hurt. It's not in his nature to be affectionate but you're determined to have him swooning over you by the end of the night.

“I was craving some Chinese so I got us a few dishes. What do you want?” he asks, popping open boxes. You frown, watching as he moves away some of the fine China you've set out to spread his takeout containers.

“Yoongi, I told you not to bring anything. I made us dinner,” you say, motioning toward the big bowl of pasta and plate of steaming bread sticks in the center of the table. His eyes move over the carbonara before he looks down at his sweet and sour chicken.

“I just had pasta yesterday. Can you put it in the fridge? I'll take some back to the dorms to eat tomorrow.”

Part 1 – officially crashed and burned. You stare at him for a few hard seconds, mentally wishing that the damn Chinese food would be spoiled so he wouldn't touch it. But from the way he happily plops himself down onto one of the chairs, yanks apart his disposable chopsticks and digs in like it's the best food he's ever had in his life, you give up hope. Fixing yourself a small portion of pasta, you sit across from him, stealing quick glances at his plate. The Chinese does look delicious but what romantic dinner has ever been served with sweet and sour chicken?  He might not be eating the food you cooked, but you can still enjoy the romantic atmosphere together.

Almost as soon as you sit down, Yoongi hops up off of his seat, jogging over to the switch panel and flipping them all on. The sudden brightness hits you like a punch to the gut and you wince, dropping your fork. You've suddenly lost your appetite. Yoongi sighs in satisfaction as he sits back down and without a word, dives back into his food.

Okay. That's okay. It was just a few candles. This night is not ruined. You may not have gotten him with the food, but you can hook him in with the romantic movie and cuddles, you're sure of it. After the two of you finish your meal, you move to the living room. You notice Yoongi is frowning as he takes in the layout.

“What's going on with the couches?”

You flash him a grin, nodding toward the floor. “I thought we could stretch out and get comfortable on the floor while we watch a movie.”

He scoffs in disbelief. “I've just finished four hours of practice. My back is killing me and you want to lay on the floor?”

A bubble of annoyance rises up. Why is he fighting you on everything? “I put like four layers of blankets and pillows down, Yoongi. You won't feel the floor, trust me.”

With a disgruntled huff of acceptance, he throws himself down ungracefully. You mentally count to ten. He's either going to get some love or get some ass-kicking tonight and right now, you're not sure which one. After pressing play on the blu-ray machine, you lay down next to Yoongi. You half expect him to throw another wrench in your plan by pushing you away but he's full of surprises, fingers gripping you around the waist and tugging you against him.

You sigh happily. Maybe there's hope for the night after all.

“Oh! I've seen this movie already.”

Okay, maybe not.

You groan loudly, tilting your chin to stare at your boyfriend in disbelief. He frowns at you. “Why are you looking at me like that? My laptop died on the flight home last week so I watched this film to pass the time. It's not that good.”

“Why would you watch a romance movie by yourself?” you ask, restraining yourself from using the vicious tone that waits dormant at the base of your throat.

“I didn't watch it alone. Jin watched it with me.”  Oh my god. Jin was getting more romance out of your boyfriend than you were? Yoongi suddenly emits a gasp, finger pointing at the television screen where he has pulled up the On Demand menu. “Detective Pikachu is already out on digital? I'm renting this one!”

You're wearing a dress and expensive lingerie for … Pokemon? You sit up abruptly, moving your bewildered gaze to your boyfriend. You didn't expect him to initiate the romance, no, but you expected him to be smart enough to catch on that you were. A candlelit dinner with Italian food? A romantic movie and your girlfriend dressed to the nines in her own apartment for no reason? Have you always been dating the largest idiot in the world or is this a new development?

Yoongi glances up at you, meeting your furious stare. His eyes shift down to your choice of clothing and you think maybe – just maybe – for one moment, he's going to use that creative brain of his and put everything together.

“You and Pikachu kind of match right now,” he chuckles, pointing to the red blush on your cheeks and the yellow of your dress. “Y/N, I choose you!”

“Oh my god,” you mouth silently, slumping to the floor next to him. You watch in stupid amazement as he turns up the volume of the television and throws the remote next to him, another satisfied smile on his face. Seeing the bowls of snacks lined up, he grabs a few and sets them down in front of him. Plucking a strawberry from a bowl, you can't help but feel defeated when he tosses the entire thing into his mouth in one go. You had plans for those strawberries. You had daydreams and visions of seductively biting an end off, of slowly and sexily crawling over to him and gently feeding him the rest. It was then that he would toss you over his shoulder, take you to your room and toss you onto the bed. It was then that he would find the lingerie.

Part two of the plan? Obliterated.

Despite actually having a genuine love for Pokemon and a desire to see Detective Pikachu, you begin to get restless about forty minutes into the film. Yoongi is engrossed, eyes glued to the screen as he blindly reaches for the snack bowls and throws handfuls of whatever he can reach into his mouth. Instead of watching the movie, you've been imagining new scenarios that involve getting Yoongi into the bedroom. Okay, the scenarios went a little beyond just getting him into the bedroom. All of your hard thinking has left you anxious, the lingerie suddenly feeling suffocating. This needs to happen. Now.

“Yoongi,” you whine, gripping his upper arm. He hums in response. “Can we finish watching this tomorrow?”

He frowns. “We're more than halfway through. Why would we stop?”

“I want to go to bed.”

His eyebrows lift questioningly. “So go lay down. I'll be in whenever the movie is finished. I don't think there's too much left.”

Wow. He really is dumb. Yoongi has been your first relationship so you weren't sure – does every woman have to work this hard to get some from their man or is it just you? You decide to stop playing around. He's obviously incapable of grasping any of your attempts to be sexy and coy.

“No, Yoongi. I don't want to go to sleep. I want to go to bed. With you.”

That get his attention. His head snaps over in your direction so quickly that worry he might have given himself whiplash. There's a faint dusting of pink tinging his cheeks and you giggle inwardly, relieved that you've managed to crack whatever stone wall he's had up all night. It's not as if the two of you haven't had sex before – oh, definitely not. You've been together for years and have done it many, many times. You have never been so straightforward with him about it, though. Feeling bold by how flustered he is, you reach over him for the remote, wordlessly turning the television off before lifting yourself to your feet. He watches you closely, accepting the hand you offer to help him off of the ground. When you're both standing, you take advantage of your grip on his fingers and lead him to your bedroom.

This is it – the grand finale. There's absolutely no chance of ruining this. Yoongi is a hot-blooded man who has the same cravings and needs as every other living, breathing male in this world.

You push him gently onto your bed. He sits on the edge, resting back on his elbows. He watches you intently. His heavy, hooded gaze is like electricity, filling you with jolts of desire and contentedness. This is what you wanted. This is the feeling, the excitement, that you've been craving.  Leaning down into him, placing your palms next to his elbows, you catch his lips with yours. It starts off chaste, pulling away every few seconds for quick, little pecks. But after a few seconds, the aching between your legs begins to intensify and you decide that you're done with being soft. The kiss deepens, a moan vibrating from Yoongi's chest as you slide your tongue against his. You feel his hands grip your waist, massaging the skin of your hips through the fabric of your dress before his fingers start to dance downward. Pulling away breathlessly, you grin down at him.

Your cardigan goes first, tossing it haphazardly somewhere in the corner of your room. You make of slow show of unbuttoning the straps of your dress, keeping eye contact, doing your best to be the most seductive woman Yoongi has ever met. You know that you weren't his first, or his second or even his third. But you want to be the one who makes him forget about everyone that came before you. Your dress drops to your feet. You feel triumphant when his eyes widen, moving slowly down your body as if he was taking in every single detail. You watch as the corners of his lips turn upward. You close your eyes. This is the part where he completely ravishes you.

He laughs.

He laughs hard.

It's like a balloon pops and you start to deflate, your eyes snapping open in hurt and surprise. Yoongi lays back on the bed, arms wrapped around his stomach as if the sight of you in lingerie is so funny that it causes him pain. You look down at yourself, at the swell of your breasts encased with satin, lace and ribbons. Was it that funny? Did he not find you beautiful enough to pull something like this off?

You watch as Yoongi continues to laugh, absorbed in his own amusement. The sound of his guffaws are like punches to the gut, over and over and over again. Though you've never voiced it out loud, you've always felt a touch of insecurity in your relationship. He was Min Yoongi. He was Suga. He should have supermodels or equally beautiful idol girls standing beside him. Despite that, he always had a way of making you feel pretty, like you had something that no other girl in the world had.

But now? Now you question everything. Would he laugh at a supermodel if she stood here in lingerie? Would he laugh at any of his frustratingly beautiful ex-girlfriends?

Feeling like he has maxed out your hurt tolerance, you shamefully retreat into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it behind you. Your first order of business was getting out of the frilly contraption, the complete waste of two paychecks. The second was wiping every bit of product from your face. If he didn't think you were beautiful, why should you even try?

Making quick work of the lingerie, you whip it into the corner, wondering what the most effective way to burn it would be. You change into a normal pair of panties and toss on an old, baggy BTS concert tee that you use for pajamas. It isn't until you're washing your face that you realize you're crying.

There's a timid knock on the door. “Y/N? What are you doing?”

You ignore him, the sound of his voice propelling you to scrub your face even harder. When you pull the cloth away and look up into the mirror, you wince at your own reflection. Wet and puffy eyes with skin tinged red from scrubbing it nearly raw. It only makes you feel uglier and you can't help the cry that slips out.

There's another knock on the door, quicker this time. When you still don't answer, he tries the doorknob to no avail. “Y/N, are you crying? Open the door for me.”

You contemplate spending the night in the bathroom. The tub is nice and spacious. There's a pile of clean towels on top of the hamper than you could use for blankets, padding and pillows. You already ate so you won't get hungry. This could work – you could stay here until Yoongi has to leave for his schedules tomorrow morning.

“Are you really not going to open the door?” Yoongi demands, the knocks turning into pounds with his fists. “I'll just kick the door in. You know I can.”

You huff in annoyance. There goes your plans for a sleepover in the bathroom. Others might think Yoongi is bluffing but you know what he's capable of doing and you know he won't mind ruining your door if it inconveniences him too much. You exhale deeply before flipping the lights off and throwing the door open, studiously ignoring your boyfriend who has to jump out of your way as you storm past him. You can feel him following close behind as you hastily retreat to the living room, throwing yourself down in the middle of the blankets. You turn your back to him, tucking the thickest blanket up under your chin. You hear Yoongi sigh from behind you.

“Are you that angry with me? I'm sorry that I laughed,” he apologizes. You continue to ignore him, eyes blurred with tears as they fixate on the fibers of your blanket. He groans in frustration, reaching out to grip your shoulder. As much resistance as you put forth, he still manages to twist you to face him. When he sees your face full of tears, he drops his grip in surprise. “Jagiya, what is this?”

“Jagiya, what is this?” you mock him in disbelief. You can't take it anymore. Seething, you sit up, wiping your eyes before fixing your glare on him. “Your girlfriend is absolutely and understandably fucking devastated because she not only worked SO hard to plan a perfect, romantic night with her boyfriend – which he ruined every fucking chance that he got, I might add – but when she tried to surprise him by attempting to spice things up in the bedroom with really fucking expensive lingerie, he laughs in her face! I wanted to look and feel sexy for you, Yoongi, and you laughed at me. Hard. So yes, I am that angry with you.”

You throw yourself down again, this time pulling the blanket over your head. Yoongi sighs heavily. “Jagiya, talk to me.”

“Go home, Yoongi. I don't want to talk to you anymore tonight.”

Exploding on him released a lot of your anger but now you just feel sad. Every time your head replays the image of him rolling across the bed in laughter at your expanse, your chest throbs and a fresh round of tears build behind your eyes. You feel Yoongi plop down beside you, arm reaching around your shoulders to turn you once again. You throw an elbow to dodge his attempt. “I'm not going home. We're going to talk about this. If you insist on sleeping here tonight, I'm going to sleep right here next to you whether you like it or not.”

“Do whatever you want. I'm not the one who will have a stiff back at dance practice tomorrow.”

“I thought you said you put enough layers of blankets down that I won't feel it?” he jokes. You decide to ignore him. He sighs heavily again. The blankets shift and you feel his head rest against the middle of your back. “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. And I didn't mean to ruin everything you planned – you should have told me we were going to be romantic tonight.”

You scoff. “I shouldn't have to tell you that we're going to be romantic. Romance isn't something you plan, it's something you feel.”

“Well then, what did you plan for if not romance?”

He's got you there. You knew Yoongi wasn't the most romantic man in the world but you still tried to force it on him. Maybe this is your karma. Maybe this is a wake-up call. If he doesn't feel any kind of romance for you … why are you still together?

“Yoongi,” you croak, blinking away more tears. “I want to ask you a question and I want you to be completely honest with me – do you still love me?”

His head pops up from the floor. Not even a full five seconds pass by before he's forcefully gripping you around your shoulders, pinning you flat against the floor as he hovers above you. His eyes pierce you with the most intense gaze you've ever received from him. “I can't believe you even have to ask me that.”

He seems almost angry. “What am I supposed to think? Okay, maybe I planned for romance, but did you have to brush off every single thing I tried to do with you tonight? It just seems like you're not that interested anymore.”

He groans, moving into a sitting position. His hand rubs down his face, a habit of his that you know usually comes out when he's frustrated. “I'm interested in you. I love you. I brushed off everything you planned because to be honest, that's not us. That's not who you and I are, it's not our relationship.”

You frown. “But that doesn't-”

“You love Chinese take-out, you love Pokemon and you've mentioned many times how ridiculously silly and overpriced you think fancy lingerie is. Do you think romance is defined by a certain meal, genre of movie or undergarments? If you ask me, we would have had a perfectly romantic night without all of your planning.”

He renders you speechless because – holy crap – he's actually right. Okay, maybe the two of you have your lazy moments but when have you ever been unhappy in your relationship with Yoongi? He knows you. He knows what you like. He brought over Chinese and rented Detective Pikachu for you. In a weird, comfortable way … it's your own Yoongi kind of romance.

With a dramatic sigh, you turn towards him, scooting close. With his soft cat-like eyes, he gives you a gentle smile and you nearly swoon on the spot. “You're right. I'm sorry for being so cheesy tonight. I think all of those dramas I've been watching lately have gone to my head.”

He laughs, reaching out to pull you against him. “It wasn't a total waste. I really am going to tear that carbonara up tomorrow.”

You giggle in agreement, resting your head against his chest. Your eyes close in satisfaction of being so close and so relaxed with him after a night of pushing him away with stupid expectations. Although you feel a million times better, there's something that still causes your chest to ache when you think about it. “Yoongi? I know that you laughed at the lingerie because you thought I was joking but … I mean, you laughed really hard. Did I look that ridiculous? I didn't look … good?”

He laughs again and you pull back to punch him. Still chuckling, his large fingers envelope your fist, pushing it down. “Jagiya, stop fishing for compliments.”

“I'm not fishing for compliments,” you argue defiantly. “A girl genuinely tries to be sexy for her boyfriend and he laughs at her? That's enough to make her feel ugly. I just want you to confirm whether or not you think I'm ugly.”

“It's like I said before – that lingerie was not you. It didn't suit you. Of course you looked gorgeous and tempting. However-” he pauses, reaching down under the blanket. You gasp when his hand grips your ass, moving you impossibly closer until even a feather couldn't come between your bodies. “This is what I find sexiest. Just you. No fancy underwear. Well … no underwear at all, really, if you're giving me the choice.”

You slap him playfully, not bothering to fight the stupid grin on your face. He buries his face in your neck. You can feel his smile against your skin.

“We should finish what we started earlier,” he whispers, his lips peppering soft kisses along your collarbone, his fingers dancing along the waistband of your panties. You hum in pleasure, craning your neck to give him better access. An embarrassing moan escapes you when he sucks the skin a bit harder.

“Detective Pikachu? Sure, I'll grab the remote,” you joke, twisting as if you're going to move away. He grunts, pulling on your waist until you're straddling his hips. You lean down, ghosting your lips against his.

“This romantic enough for you?” he asks, his mouth moving softly against yours. You narrow your eyes to glare at him.

“Yoongi, shut up,” you mutter as you throw the blanket over your heads and lean back down to thoroughly ravish him this time. Min Yoongi would be doing a lot of swooning tonight.

[abailsk-blog]

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[vapormaison]

2019 Best Press 3/4:  カタカナ・タイトル + Kanji Title by TANUKI

While for many vaporwave vinyl is doubtless equal parts collector’s item and audio source, I don’t want to lose sight of the goal of this blog here: developing a canon of the genre for high fidelity enjoyment. That said, when I come across something remarkable or noteworthy about a particular piece of wax, even if it is not a “purely audiophile” object, I want to make mention of it.

And TANUKI’s カタカナ・タイトル + Kanji Title wax release is not only noteworthy, but contends for hi-fi consideration despite it’s status as a picture disc.

But let’s back up slightly.

Going back to the previous thesis on why we buy records, sometimes you just want to own a vinyl just because. Just because you’re a collector trying to compile a discography on wax — or, better yet, just because you truly love the album art. For me, カタカナ・タイトル + Kanji Title (Double EP) was undoubtedly all of the three “just be-causes”.

A while back, I noticed that the LP was going into its 3rd press, and decided to snap up a copy because I like Tanuki, I like Lum, and because of those other just becauses. Unfortunately the only format available was not the pink vinyl, but the picture disc. As I’m sure is well-known (because audiophiles are very loud about things they dislike), picture-discs are a big no-no in the audiophile community. This is because while a beautiful objet d’art, a serious listening session of a picture disc release will usually produce greater amounts of surface noise than any other type of vinyl. You can, of course, with the right system, neutralize and mitigate this process slightly, but true-blue hi-fi heads pursuing that elusive muse of “pure sound” would never give a picture disc a second look.

I’m not one of those people.

Tangentially, I’ve heard whispers of ghosts of rumors from when I was living in Shenzen, China — that various record suppliers (small batch Makers) are working out manufacturing and material processes that minimize these issues on pic discs to create appealing records that cover all the bases: hi-fi suitability, collector oriented visual esoterica, and price. I should also admit I have no idea where those companies are in terms of R&D and/or producing these. I end up catching a lot of very fast talk from extremely motivated enthusiasts, but Chinese is still as elusive a language to me at times as “pure sound” can be. With that in mind, however, it’s logical to surmise that advances in technology will eventually render the differences between picture discs and traditional black wax undistinguishable. So long as the world isn’t destroyed in some cataclysmic climate disaster (very real possibility), or -- as we are watching evolve now: World War 3. My view is that it’d be pointless to dismiss the format out of hand when there are active attempts to innovate it as we speak.

That all said, I know what to expect when a contemporary, big-label picture disc plays. During my college days, I used to spin wax at the university radio station. One of the previous catalog managers had a fetish for this “collectible” format, and was convinced he was doing the station a favor by purchasing all these vinyls, noting a pre-supposed resale value later. I remember throwing these on the well-worn Technics SP-10 we had as our main turntable, and listening to the occasional scratch, frequent popping, and constant surface noise, that for the uninitiated (bless you), sounds like a sustained “cracking” in your Rice Krispies — or for those born in the analog age, CRTV static.

So when I sat down with the Tanuki picture disc, I had this laundry list of preconceptions and prejudices about the format. I thought that I could listen to a moderately scratchy record once or twice, keep it as more a visual boutique item and then eventually include in an article where I bemoan the poor quality of the genre’s releases.

But then, I actually listened.

And it sounded… well, I won’t get ahead of myself. Here’s the full review:

THE MUSIC

BABYBABYの夢 — is doubtless the reason why many of us have bought the EP from a sonic perspective —especially if the band-camp reviews are indicative of trends. I still maintain that this is the Mariya Takeuchi sample/remix work par excellence. Tanuki hits all the essential notes here, a genuine respect and love for the sound-staging of its original source, Yume No Tsuzuki. I still get echoes of the original arrangement in my system, (ever so slightly) with a bright and dance-infused collection of unique sounds — particularly in that delicious, wide mid-range — that flesh out the track into its own sort of masterpiece.

何がGoin' On — the curatorial and conspiratorial side of my brain tells me that Goin’ On will probably go down as one the under-appreciated vintage bangers of this era of future funk. I can envision hipsters two or three decades from now sussing out a neophyte with pretentious questions about this track’s pitch-shifted sample draws from. It has that sort of vibe that you know hits with a certain subset of electronica fans — rich & vibrant, making the tweeters on your system work out in all the best ways — it’s just great.

がんばれ — Tanuki is at his best when he gets playful with brass samples. I firmly believe that the titans in this genre each have their go-to piece in their best arrangement — like Dan Mason’s creative vocal array, or greyL’s manipulation of micro-samples. For Tanuki, it’s whenever her gets a horn — synthesized or otherwise, into his production workflow.

ファンクOFF — continues Tanuki’s magic act, taking another city pop track more iconic for its soulful electric guitar riff and turning it into the most slap-worthy single on this EP. I prefer it when Japanese pop samples are fundamentally re-imagined, although I can see how the perfectionist tweaking of someone like Yung Bae is more appealing for some. Tanuki is undoubtedly one of the innovators of this genre, and there’s no more solid evidence of that talent than this track.

腕の中でDancin’ — if I ended up hosting a sort of mythical vaporwave grammies or something like that, (I’m available, folks!) I would probably go off on a Ricky Gervais style rant on how artists aren’t in touch with “the people” (read: me) because all we really want are more remixes of Meiko Nakahara songs — who given her impact on City Pop should have way more play in this genre than she does. This one, like most of the Meiko mixes I’ve heard, is a banger with an absolute fire bass riff punctuated throughout.

Radiant Memories — this might be my first certified “hot take” in the publication (they’ll be many more, I imagine) — but as far as I’m concerned this is the superior Plastic Love edit. I’ll just leave my thoughts there, so they can soak in with a portion of the fanbase who split my reddit account on an open fire of downvotes for suggesting that other artists than Macross 82-99 (Praise be upon him!) are allowed to touch this song as well. While Macross’s mix is definitely the more up-temo of the two, and that for some is the very essence of the genre, this slightly down-mixed version is both the perfect conclusion for the EP and ideal antithesis.

THE LISTENING EXPERIENCE

Signal to Raise ratio on the following albums:

カタカナ・タイトル + Kanji Title:  ~61.9db (1 db MoE)

Tron Legacy, Daft Punk:  58.4db

Love Trip, Takako Mamiya, Kitty Records Press: 65.8db

(ratings based on averages 5 minutes of sustained play on the testing unit, the machine actually complied this data on its preset, which is another fascinating part about this sort of vintage press-testing tech). The margin of error is because the machine, according to my mentor Dr. Juuso Ottala formerly of Harman International, informs me it was never meant to give accurate readings of picture discs, and to add about a dB of error margin.

One of the benefits of growing up in New England and, subsequently, New York, is that there are no shortage of heritage professional audio brand HQs in operation around a 200 mile radius from Manhattan to Boston. Off the top of my head, there’s Harman/Kardon, Boston Acoustics, Bose, NuMark, Marantz, and Rane headquarters within an hour’s drive from my two hometowns. Early on in my audiophile quest, I got my hands on some cool vintage gear — vinyl lathe testing equipment that has collected dust in both an old Harman technician’s storage unit, and now my parent’s basement. Over the holiday, I recently brought it out to do some surface noise testing on it to get a rough confirmation of what I was explaining in yesterday’s hi-fi guide. The innards of the machine looks eerily like a plinth-less linear tonearm and plate pair attached to a monitor. After making sure I’m not violating some kind of Harman International trade secret, I’ll post it on instagram.

Wanting to also get a firm idea on just how good my ear-test sounded, I grabbed another picture disc vinyl I had received as a gift a few years ago from my brother — the Tron Legacy OST. While I found the film passably enjoyable, my own preconceptions about pic discs, and a general exhaustion with french house — left me with no discernible desire to spin the thing. I hadn’t even broken the seal on the plastic wrap, so it seemed like as good as a blind test as any. I also grabbed what my ears tell me is a “good”, “heavy” press, a 1982 original dead-stock copy of Takako Mamiya’s Love Trip LP pressed by Kitty Records Japan. I��ve played it maybe a half dozen times since I bought it, so it’s as close to “new” 80s audiophile pop record as you can get. The Japanese are infamously anal about low SNR on their vinyl.

And, well, the results speak for themselves. The sweet spot for most black vinyl records is between 60-70db depending on age, weight, and a host of other frankly uncontrollable factors that aren’t worth getting into detail here, as I’d go on forever. The main takeaway here is that Neoncity’s and Tanuki’s record sat at the low end of the audiophile vinyl reference spectrum. Which in itself is a remarkable achievement for a pic disc. It’s worth taking a look at Tron Legacy, which just barely scratches 8db above a cassette tape, and 7db a Japanese vinyl from 1982.

This is all in an effort to say: damn, this is pretty good.

This also somewhat counters the usual “picture discs sound like shit” narrative that’s prevailed pretty consistently in the audiophile community. Tron Legacy? Yeah, that probably sounds like shit if I could bother to suffer through a listen. But whoever Hong-Kong based Neoncity is using actually makes “good” — if such a qualifier needs to be attached — image-pressed records. And that devotion to audio fidelity should be rewarded.

It might be time for me to re-asses picture discs on the whole, and that mind-expanding moment is something I owe to the fine folks at Neoncity.

[adamwatchesmovies]

My People, My Country (2019)

I'm certain My People, My Country will snag all the awards at China’s equivalent of the Oscars. Jingoistic to the point of being sickening, every frame is spent forcefully celebrating the People’s Republic of China and enforcing government-approved values. Perhaps it would mean more to someone who lives there. For this viewer, it was a profoundly dull - though eye-opening - 158 minutes. Each of this anthology's seven stories come from a different director and feature some of the country’s biggest stars in a variety of roles and genres. There's a lot to say so pardon the longer-than-usual review.

The Eve

Engineer Lin Zhiyuab (Huang Bo) is floored when he learns Tian'anmen Square is being cordoned off before the founding ceremony of the People’s Republic of China on October 1, 1949. As the man responsible for the mechanism that will automatically raise the flag, he must now find a way to anticipate and address any possible issues - without setting eyes upon the flagpole.

Well, doesn't this sound like an exciting intro to a 2-1/2 hour movie? Immediately, you recognize this is a propaganda film. This means it'll be an interesting viewpoint into the engineer's way of thinking... but not the way they meant it to be. Like all propaganda films, this one presents its subject as all-good, all-powerful and forever successful. The lack of tension serves to make the story even less dramatic than it would’ve been normally. It's too short for you to get invested in the characters and the story is one you simply can't be bothered for.

Passing By

In 1964, China is developing nuclear weapons. Scientist Gao Yuan (Zhang Yi) has not seen his wife (Zhou Dongyu) for three years. An incident at work nearly causes a meltdown, forcing Gao to intervene and put his life at risk.

If my country announced it was developing nuclear arms, I’d be outraged; not waving flags and singing songs. Even if your sentiments towards mutually-assured destruction differ, you'll leave this tale flabbergasted. Once we get into the drama between Gao and his wife, it’s a sweet love story. Then, the details hit you. The scientist’s fate is left ambiguous, as the story ends with the country’s victorious display of power. Anyone who knows anything knows only three things come from nuclear tests gone wrong: Superpowers, giant fire-breathing dinosaurs, of agonizing death. I guess we’re supposed to admire the man's dedication to his country, at the expense of his marriage and life?

The Champion

Dongdong (Han Haolin) and his father own the only television in their small village. It’s 1984 and China’s women’s national volleyball team is playing for the gold medal against the United States. While he holds the antenna in place, the village can view this historic match. Dongdong is torn, however. His school friend is moving away. If he doesn’t say goodbye to her tonight, he’ll never have the chance to tell her how he feels.

Of all the stories, this was my favorite. Dongdong wants to step away from the antenna but there are always circumstances pulling him back towards it. It’s got small-town charm and some laugh-out-loud moments… until you begin thinking about the story's real message. It’s the Olympics, sure, but Dongdong is supposed to give up his happiness because he dares to have a little luxury at home?

Going Home

Directed by Sue Xiaolu, Going Home follows a watch repairman tasked with coordinating two watches. The timekeepers will be worn by officials overseeing the ceremony commemorating the return of Hong Kong from British rule to China in 1997.

Yet another mundane story detailing a flag-raising ceremony. With The Champion still in mind, this one seemed even more tedious than it would’ve been otherwise. It takes itself seriously - to a fault. The only time you'll be jolted out of your stupor will be when you spot the actors lovingly gazing at those five yellow stars on that red flag. Seriously, the flag plays such a big role in so many of these stories I wouldn’t be surprised if it got first billing in the end credits - I couldn't read them so I can neither confirm nor deny my suspicion.

Hello Beijing

Deadbeat dad and taxi driver Zhang (Ge You) wins a ticket to the 2008 Beijing Olympics’ opening ceremony. Thinking he can use it to gain the admiration of his son, he flaunts his prize. When the ticket is stolen by one of his fares, he panics.

Like The Champion, Hello Beijing has a more comedic tone than the rest, which is a breath of relief. You take great delight when Zhang realizes his ticket has been swiped. It's an opportunity for him to redeem himself and he does, in a way that’ll make you roll your eyes. By the time the thief’s emotional speech comes in, you're practically nauseous.

The Guiding Star

Two brothers (Liu Haoran and Arthur Chen) are taken in by a kind, elderly couple. Initially planning on robbing them, the boys change their ways when a childhood story of a falling star seen during the day is fulfilled in the form of the Shenzhou 11’s landing capsule.

The longer I go on with this anthology, the less I have to say. This is a basic story. There’s nothing wrong with that, as long as you mix it up a bit. Tying the country’s space program to a prophecy that goes on to change two nogoodniks’ lives? puh-lease.

One for All

Fighter jet pilot Lü Xiaoran (Jia Song) has fought tooth-and-nail to be the best. When she is assigned to be the backup pilot for the Military Parade of the 70th Anniversary of the Victory in the Second Sino-Japanese War, she is initially outraged. As the big event approaches, she learns the importance of setting her ambitions aside.

We started off with a boring story. It's only fitting to conclude with another. The training sequences are cool and the shots of those jets zipping through the air are exciting but by this point, you know what agenda director Wen Muye is pushing onto you and your defenses are robust. There’s no way you'll let One for All "win" and you look down upon it with disdain.

Overall, the film is well made. The cinematography is grandiose, the landscapes majestic, the performances good. I simply couldn't look past the messages being pushed. Give up three years of your life, the chance to say goodbye to your friend, your lifelong ambitions. Do it for your country. Don't expect to be recompensed for your sacrifice; are you crazy?! Take joy in the sight of that flag, the symbol that ties us all together and makes everyone, from the lowliest thieves to aspiring engineers part of a bigger whole whose collective needs far outweigh the inconvenience of a few. Let's throw in a couple of subtle potshots towards the U.S., Japan, and the United Kingdom for good measure too. I didn't want to say too much in my summaries of the stories, but almost all of these take the corniness to an insufferable level. There's overwrought drama abound, the conclusions always go for the cheapest tricks and worst of all, you'll be bored. There’s so much to learn from My People, My Country that I'm glad to have seen it but found it more frightening than inspirational. (Original Chinese with subtitles on the big screen, October 7, 2019)

[catsafarithewriter]

"You trusted me when no one else would, so now I will always return the favor" or however the prompt is written. Feel free to edit to fit, but make it Super Villain AU. Or, Film Noir Detective Baron AU. Wuv u

A/N: One Super Villain AU coming up! I know I usually default to Haru & Baron, but I couldn’t get this line to work in the AU yet (they don’t know each other well enough yet for this line to have any pathos) so I detoured off with a Toto-centric ficlet. Enjoy! 

(And wuv u too, Shelbs)

For all the other lovely prompts I received, I shall be working on them over the next week, and you should see them appearing once they’re done. But, for now, enjoy this ficlet!

Toto Morrigan, doctor, birdwatcher, part-time baritone, liked to consider himself a fine, upstanding member of society, except that fine, upstanding members of society didn’t usually cavort with super villains. 

Super was perhaps a bit rich though, even if Baron did have super agility and strength and other super skills that Toto had never asked about. Toto had known Baron long enough to remember the cape phase, and it was difficult to take anyone seriously after spending several afternoons untangling them from their cape. 

Most fine, upstanding members of society probably didn’t keep a freeze-ray in their top right kitchen cupboard either, but there were certain precautions needed when one was the go-to doctor of the city’s most-wanted super villain. 

As the sound of fine china clinking echoed along Toto’s otherwise silent house, the doctor, birdwatcher, part-time baritone gently removed the freeze-ray from the cupboard. It looked a lot like a hairdryer - possibly because that’s what it had started life as - and might have gone entirely without comment if it hadn’t been hiding away in a kitchen cabinet. He switched the safety off and stalked through into the lounge. 

When he saw the identity of the uninvited guest, the freeze-ray lowered, but not by much. 

“Humbert,” he greeted. 

The man seated in Toto’s favourite armchair looked like the type of person who would run a bookshop, or perhaps an artisan cafe. Since Humbert did actually run a tea shop, Toto had never quite been convinced that Humbert didn’t dress deliberately with such a fashion in mind. It was a casual outfit, comfy and non-threatening, with a woollen cardigan and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

Humbert smiled, and Toto had to make an active effort to remember that the super villain had just broken into his house. 

“Toto. My dear friend.”

“It’s Thursday,” Toto said. 

“Indeed it is.”

“Thursdays are my day off.”

“Well then, it’s just as well I’m just dropping by then, isn’t it?”

Toto scowled, but he could already feel the irritation draining away. He sighed and lowered the ray. “What are you doing here, Humbert?”

“Can’t a super villain make sure his favourite minion is recovering well after a near-death experience without suspicion?”

“Not a minion,” Toto amended, although the objection was more out of habit than anything else. “And, no, you can’t. Not without warning, and certainly not by letting yourself in.”

Humbert motioned to the table before him. “I made you tea.”

“With my best china set,” Toto noted, doing his best to sound disapproving. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the reluctant smile from rising to his lips though. He closed his eyes, partly to look pointedly frustrated, but mostly because it was easier to not be charmed if he wasn’t making direct eye contact, and sat down in his second-favourite seat. It sagged in the middle. “Humbert, you cannot just break into my house like this–”

“Do you see anything broken?” Humbert asked. 

“My trust.”

“You wound me.” 

“What if anyone had seen you?” Toto persisted. “How am I going to explain you picking the lock on my front door?”

“Do you really think I need to pick the lock anymore?”

“What other way would you–?” Toto sighed. “How long have you had a copy of my key?”

“Since you asked me to housesit your plants.” 

“That was–” Toto groaned. “Really? Have you been sneaking into my house for the past two years?”

There was a pause from Humbert. “I may owe you some tea and milk.” 

“You have your own house! With tea and milk! Why…?”

“Villain?” Humbert offered. He passed across a cup, which Toto reluctantly took. Admittedly, Humbert knew how to make a damn good cup of tea. 

“Don’t make me regret patching you up all these years,” Toto muttered, but it was mostly into the cup. He eyed the super villain. Humbert did indeed look unharmed, so he probably wasn’t here to request a new scar being sewn up or bandages applied. Toto lowered the tea. “So if you’re really not here on… business,” he eventually settled on, “then what are you doing here?”

“You were pretty seriously injured after the Scourge incident last month.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Toto said. “There were a dozen other people in that tram carriage. It just happened to be someone you knew who got shot.” Toto gave Humbert a meaningful look. “You’re not doing your villain reputation much good by worrying over civilians.” 

“Maybe not, but I can still worry over a friend.” 

“Hmm.” Toto took another sip. “No, there’s something else,” he decided. “Something you’re not telling me.” 

Humbert gave a light chuckle. “You know me far too well, Toto.” 

“Far better than any law-abiding doctor should,” Toto agreed. “So, what is it? What dark and terrible secret have you come to burden on me now?”

“When have I ever burdened you with a dark and terrible secret?”

“I could certainly do without being an accessory to super villainy.” 

“Ah, but you would miss me.” 

Toto snorted and deliberately avoided making eye contact. He mumbled something that might have been confirmation into his tea. “Just tell me, Humbert,” he eventually managed. “What have you done?”

“Such little trust, to have assumed I have done anything,” Humbert teased, but even as Toto watched, Humbert’s eyes turned serious. 

Humbert had strange eyes. Glittering, almost feline eyes, green in some lights and golden in others. Toto had always wondered if that was some side effect of his super powers, but had never quite steered the conversation in a direction where he could ask. He also didn’t want to admit just yet that his own eyes were drawn to Humbert’s at an alarming rate. 

“I don’t suppose you remember that week you took off, back in September?” Humbert asked slowly. 

“Unsurprisingly, I do remember my holiday to Spain,” Toto confirmed. “Would have been a rather disappointing holiday otherwise. Why?” His eyes narrowed as suspicion set in. “You said you were going to keep a low profile while I was gone.”

Humbert wet his lips as he considered his next confession. “I may… have had a building fall on top of me.” 

“Goddammit, Humbert!”

“My mistake, admittedly, I should have been quicker–”

“One week, Humbert. One week! I go away for one week and you nearly get yourself killed!”

“–but,” the super villain continued, “as you can see, I was not. So, I think that counts in my favour, something that you should consider when I tell you how I did not die.”

“And how did you not die?” Toto asked flatly. 

“I had help.”

“From…?” Toto prompted. “Tell me it wasn’t Muta. That butterball has the medical prowess of my little finger - less. At least my little finger has seen surgery.”

“It wasn’t Muta.” 

“It better not have been Louise. Your sister will get into so much trouble if she’s found harbouring a super villain under her roof.” 

“It wasn’t Louise,” Humbert confirmed. 

“Not Persephone. Please do not tell me you got the mayor’s wife to stitch you up. She doesn’t even know who you are!” 

“No… but that’s not a bad idea–”

“Humbert!”

“Right. Yes, back to the subject at hand.” He inhaled. “I did not die because I was helped by the president of the Baron Fan Club.”

“That’s not a real thing.”

“Au contraire, my little minion--”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“--for, behold!” Humbert triumphantly held up something small and round and with tiny shiny lettering surrounding a sparkly top hat.

Toto squinted. “Did you make that yourself?”

“Of course not. That, my dear friend, is official merchandise from the Baron Fan Club, provided by none other than the president of this distinguished society.”

Toto watched as a little of the glitter shedded. “Distinguished, huh?” he echoed, fighting to keep his voice neutral. “And, pray tell,” he said, somewhat mimicking Humbert’s cadence, “how many members does this distinguished society have?”

“Ah, now that would be telling.” 

Toto bit his tongue to keep himself from calling Humbert out. “Oh, I bet it would,” still slipped out, regardless. He overlooked the apparent existence of the questionable fan club long enough to register where Humbert had been going with this. “Hang on, when you said you were helped by the president...” Toto’s eyes narrowed, “does that include your usual penchant for breaking and entering, or did you forgo that particular foible that time around?”

Humbert’s eyes darted guiltily to one side. “She helped, and that is the important part here.”

“Oh god, tell me you did not break into this woman’s house.”

“She took it rather well, all things considering.” And he was considering it now; Toto could see the cold realisation running across those ridiculously curious eyes. “In hindsight,” he eventually admitted, “not one of my better ideas, but I was running out of options.” 

“Would’ve served you right if she’d called the police on you,” Toto muttered. “So, that’s it? You crashed on some poor woman’s sofa for a night and demanded she stitch you back together? I hope you paid to have the blood cleaned off.”

“She refused,” Humbert said in a small voice. “Said something about not wanting to raise questions by hiring out a cleaner, and knowing how to remove blood stains anyway.”

Toto took a long, patient breath and rose to his feet, his cup empty. “Well, as enlightening as this was, this is still my evening off. So unless you have anything else to confess--”

“I saw her again.”

Toto sat. Rather heavier than planned. “What?”

“It was when you were poisoned by Scourge’s gun. She was the scientist in charge of identifying the toxin and developing an antidote.”

If Toto concentrated, he could just about remember the woman. Admittedly, he had been slightly out of it following the poison, and the memory was mostly comprised of white overalls and the smell of apricot. “That was her?”

Somehow, he’d imaged the President of the Baron Fan Club would look... different.

Humbert nodded. 

“And you’re telling me because...?” Toto trailed off, unease quickly replacing bafflement. “She doesn’t know your real identity, does she?”

Humbert waved the worry away. “No. At least, I don’t think so.” He frowned. “I hope not. I’ve never seen her at the tea shop anyway...”

Toto waited for Humbert to get to the point. He usually did, eventually. 

“But, I’ve been considering dropping by her place again... intentionally, some time... when the situation isn’t quite so dire. As one would drop by a friend - like I’m doing now.”

Toto decided against reminding Humbert that he had stolen into this particular house with an illegally copied key. 

“You want to get to know her,” Toto translated. 

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

“Yes?!”

“I suppose I’m flattered,” Humbert continued, “that she formed a fan club devoted to me, even if she did admit it wasn’t done in all seriousness--”

At least that meant the woman had some common sense, Toto couldn’t help but think. 

“--but what harm could come out of seeing her again, perhaps just drop some flowers off to thank her for her help...?”

Toto leant a hand on Humbert’s arm and tried to ignore the way his thoughts scrambled at the contact. “Humbert,” he said gently, “do you trust me?”

Humbert looked up at him with those eyes that glimmered like gems. “You trusted me when no one else would, so now I will always return the favour.”

Dammit. How was Toto supposed to think when Humbert came out with unnecessarily heartfelt things like that?

“Good,” Toto eventually managed, when he felt he could speak without making a fool of himself. It still took him several more moments to follow it up. He patted Humbert’s arm and consciously leant back. “I mean, thank you.” Words. Form words, dammit. “Then please trust me when I say that is a bad idea. Look, if you were talking about a one-off thank you with this woman, that would be one thing. But you’re not, are you?”

Humbert met his gaze, and Toto saw he was hitting the mark. He continued. 

“Humbert, me, your sister, Muta... we’re all people who were already invested in you or involved with the underworld, but this woman... she isn’t. And she doesn’t have to be. She could still go on to have a relatively crime-free life, even with her rather strange hobbies. But if you keep muscling your way into her life, she’s going to lose that. Is that what you want?”

Humbert was silent for a good long moment, and then he finally nodded. He patted Toto’s arm in the same manner Toto had previously. “That’s why I came to yours. You always have such good advice.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Toto said dryly. 

“I probably should thank her for sewing me back together after the building incident, even so,” Humbert said. “An one-off, of course.” 

“Of course,” Toto echoed. 

“But what?”

“Well, there’s always the classics: chocolates, roses, promises you don’t intend to keep,” Toto rattled off. At Humbert’s disapproving look, he rolled his eyes. “I was kidding. Kidding. Just buy her flowers. She’ll love that.”

“You think?”

Toto stared for a long moment. “Seriously, why are you asking me for ladies’ advice? Go ask your sister, she’s the one with actual experience - and interest.”

“Good point. Thank you, Toto.”

Toto snorted. “Buy me flowers and then we’re even.” He watched as Humbert got to his feet - with feline grace, as always - and, with a defeated sigh, leant back to catch him as he went. “Hey, it might not be a great idea for this woman to get to know the Baron, the super villain, but... there’s no reason why she can’t get to know Humbert, your local tea shop owner.”

Humbert’s eyes lit up. God, he was obvious. “Duly noted. I owe you flowers for this.”

“And tea and milk!” Toto shouted as Humbert vanished out. “Pay me back for all the goddamn tea you’ve been stealing first, you skinflint cretin!” There was the slam of the front door, and Toto collapsed back into his seat. Only the cups left any sign that he hadn’t imagined the whole encounter. 

“He could at least have washed up.”

Toto Morrigan, doctor, birdwatcher, part-time baritone, liked to consider himself a fine, upstanding member of society, except that fine, upstanding members of society didn’t crush on their local super villain. 

Well, usually. 

[esaeld]

Wong Jack Man vs Bruce Lee

"BRUCE LEE’S TOUGHEST FIGHT" by Michael Dorgan (from Official Karate, July 1980)

Considering the skill of the opponents and the complete absence of referees, rules, and safety equipment, it was one hell of a fight that took place that day in December. It may have been the most savagely elegant exhibition of unarmed combat of the century. Yet, at a time when top fighters tend to display their skills only in huge closed-circuited arenas, this battle was fought in virtual secrecy behind locked doors. And at a time when millions of dollars can ride on the outcome of a championship fight, these champions of another sort competed not for money, but for more personal and passionate reasons. The time was late winter, 1964; the setting was a small kung fu school in Oakland, California. Poised at the center of the room, with approximately 140 pounds packed tightly on his 5’7" frame, was the operator of the school, a 24-year old martial artist of Chinese ancestry but American birth who, within a few years, would skyrocket to international attention as a combination fighter/film star. A few years after that, at age 32, he would die under mysterious circumstances. His name, of course, was Bruce Lee. Also poised in the center of the room was another martial artist. Taller but lighter, with his 135 pounds stretched thinly over 5’10", this fighter was also 24 and also of Chinese descent. Born in Hong Kong and reared in the south of mainland China, he had only recently arrived in San Francisco’s teeming Chinatown, just across the bay from Oakland. Though over the next 15 years he would become widely known in martial arts circles and would train some of America’s top martial artists, he would retain a near disdain for publicity and the commercialization of his art, and consequently would remain unknown to the general public. His name: Wong Jack Man.What happened after the fighters approached the center of the room has become a chapter of Chinatown’s "wild history," that branch of Chinese history usually anchored in fact but always richly embellished by fantasy, a history that tells much about a time and place with little that’s reliable about any particular incident. Exactly how the fight proceeded and just who won are still matters of controversy, and will likely remain so. But from the few available firsthand accounts and other evidence, it is possible to piece together a reasonably reliable picture that reveals two overriding truths. First, considering the skill of the opponents and the complete absence of referees, rules, and safety equipment, it was one hell of a fight that took place that day in December. And second, Bruce Lee, who was soon to rival Mao Tse Tung as the world’s most famous Chinese personality, was dramatically affected by the fight, perhaps fatally so.Due to the human desire to be known as an eye witness to a famous event, it is easier to obtain firsthand accounts of the fight from persons who were not there than from those who were. As to how many persons actually viewed the contest, even that is a point of dispute. Bruce Lee’s wife Linda recalls a total of 13 persons, including herself. But the only person that she identifies other than her husband and his associate James Lee, who died of cancer shortly before her husband died, is Wong Jack Man. Wong, meanwhile, remembers only seven persons being present, including the three Lees. Of the three persons other than the Lees and himself, only one, a tai chi teacher named William Chen (not to be confused with the William Chi Cheng Chen who teaches the art in New York), could be located. Chen recalls about 15 persons being present but can identify none other than Wong and the Lees. So except for a skimpy reference to the fight by Bruce Lee himself in a magazine interview, we are left with only three firsthand accounts of the battle. They are accounts which vary widely.Linda Lee, in her book Bruce Lee: The Man Only I Knew, initially dismisses the fight as follows: "The two came out, bowed formally and then began to fight. Wong adopted a classic stance whereas Bruce, who at the time was still using his Wing Chun style, produced a series of straight punches. "Within a minute, Wong’s men were trying to stop the fight as Bruce began to warm to his task. James Lee warned them to let the fight continue. A minute later, with Bruce continuing the attack in earnest, Wong began to backpedal as fast as he could. For an instant, indeed, the scrap threatened to degenerate into a farce as Wong actually turned and ran. But Bruce pounced on him like a springing leopard and brought him to the floor where he began pounding him into a state of demoralization."Is that enough?" shouted Bruce. "That’s enough!" pleaded Wong in desperation. So the entire matter was just another quick triumph for the man who frequently boasted he could whip any man in the world. Or was it? Later in her book, Linda Lee hints that the fight may have amounted to more than the brief moment of violent diversion she had earlier described. "Bruce’s whole life was an evolving process - and this was never seen to greater effect than in his work with the martial arts," she begins. "The clash with Wong Jack Man metamorphosed his own personal expression of kung fu. Until this battle, he had largely been content to improvise and expand on his original Wing Chun style, but then he suddenly realized that although he had won comparatively easily, his performance had been neither crisp of efficient. The fight, he realized, ought to have ended within a few seconds of him striking the first blows - instead of which it had dragged on for three minutes. In addition, at the end, Bruce had felt unusually winded which proved to him he was far from perfect condition. So he began to dissect the fight, analyzing where he had gone wrong and seeking to find ways where he could have improved his performance. It did not take him long to realize that the basis of his fighting art, the Wing Chun style, was insufficient. It laid too much stress on hand techniques, had very few kicking techniques and was, essentially, partial."Still later in the book, Linda Lee adds: "The Wong Jack Man fight also caused Bruce to intensify his training methods. From that date, he began to seek out more and more sophisticated and exhaustive training methods. I shall try to explain these in greater detail later, but in general the new forms of training meant that Bruce was always doing something, always training some part of his body or keeping it in condition."Whether Bruce Lee’s intensified training was to his benefit or to his destruction is a matter to be discussed later. For now, merely let it be observed that the allegedly insignificant "scrap" described early by Linda Lee has now been identified by her as cause for her husband to intensify his training and serves as the pivotal reason for his abandoning the fighting style he had practiced religiously for more than 10 years.That the fight with Wong was the reason Lee quit, and then later repudiated the Wing Chun style, was confirmed by Lee himself in an interview with Black Belt. "I’d gotten into a fight in San Francisco (a reference, no doubt, to the Bay Area rather than the city) with a Kung-Fu cat, and after a brief encounter the son-of-a-bitch started to run. I chased him and, like a fool, kept punching him behind his head and back. Soon my fists began to swell from hitting his hard head. Right then I realized Wing Chun was not too practical and began to alter my way of fighting."For those who have difficulty believing that a quick if clumsy victory over a worthy opponent was sufficient reason for Lee to abandon a fighting style that had seen him through dozens of vicious street fights as a youth in Hong Kong, where his family had moved shortly after his birth in San Francisco, a more substantial reason for Lee to change styles can be found in the account of the fight given by Wong Jack Man.According to Wong, the battle began with him bowing and offering his hand to Lee in the traditional manner of opening a match. Lee, he say, responded by pretending to extend a friendly hand only to suddenly transform the hand into a four-pronged spear aimed at Wong’s eyes."That opening move," says Wong, "set the tone for Lee’s fight." Wing Chun has but three sets, the solo exercises which contain the full body of technique of any style, and one of those sets is devoted to deadly jabbing and gouging attacks directed primarily at the eyes and throat. "It was those techniques," say Wong, "which Lee used most."There were flurries of straight punches and repeated kicks at his groin, adds Wong, but mostly, relentlessly, there were those darting deadly finger tips trying to poke out his eyes or puncture his throat. And what he say he anticipated as serious but sportsmanly comparison of skill suddenly became an exercise in defending his life.Wong says that before the fight began Lee remarked, in reference to a mutual acquaintance who had helped instigate the match, "You’ve been killed by your friend." Shortly after the bout commenced, he adds, he realized Lee’s words had been said in earnest."He really wanted to kill me," says Wong. In contrast to Lee’s three Wing Chun sets, Wong, as the grand master of the Northern Shaolin style, knew dozens. But most of what he used against Lee, says Wong, was defensive. Wong says he parried Lee’s kicks with his legs while using his hand and arms to protect his head and torso, only occasionally delivering a stinging blow to Lee’s head or body. He fought defensively, explains Wong, in part because of Lee’s relentless aggressive strategy, and in part because he feared the consequences of responding in kind to Lee’s attempt to kill him. In pre-Revolutionary China, fights to the finish were often allowed by law, but Wong knew that in modern-day America, a crippling or killing blow, while winning a victory, might also win him a jail sentence.That, says Wong, is why he failed to deliver a devastating right-hand blow on any of the three occasions he had Lee’s head locked under his left arm. Instead, he says, he released his opponent each time, only to have an even more enraged Bruce Lee press on with his furious attack. "He would never say he lost until you killed him," says Wong. And despite his concern with the legal consequences, Wong says that killing Lee is something he began to consider. "I remember thinking, ‘If he injures me, if he really hurts me, I’ll have to kill him."But according to Wong, before that need arose, the fight had ended, due more to what Linda Lee described as Lee’s "unusually winded" condition than to a decisive blow by either opponent. "It had lasted," says Wong, "at least 20 minutes, maybe 25."Though William Chen’s recollections of the fight are more vague than the other two accounts, they are more in alignment with Wong’s than Lee’s. On the question of duration, for example, Chen, like Wong, remembers the fight continuing for "20 or 25 minutes." Also, he cannot recall either man being knocked down. "Certainly," he says, "Wong was not brought to the floor and pounded into a ‘state of demoralization.’"Regarding Wong’s claim that three times he had Lee’s head locked under his arm, Chen says he can neither confirm or deny it. He remembers the fighters joining on several occasions, but he could not see very clearly what was happening at those moments.Chen describes the outcome of the battle as "a tie." He adds, however, that whereas an enraged Bruce Lee had charged Wong "like a mad bull," obviously intent upon doing him serious injury. Wong had displayed extraordinary restraint by never employing what were perhaps his most dangerous weapons - his devastating kicks.A principal difference between northern and southern Chinese fighting styles is that the northern styles give much more emphasis to kicking, and Northern Shaolin had armed Wong with kicks of blinding speeds and crushing power. But before the fight, recalls Chen, "Sifu Wong said he would not use his kicks; he thought they were too dangerous." And despite the dangerous developments that followed that pledge, Chen adds that Wong "kept his word." Though Chen’s recollections exhaust the firsthand accounts, there are further fragments of evidence to indicate how the fight ended.Ming Lum, who was then a San Francisco martial arts promoter, says he did not attend the fight because he was a friend of both Lee and Wong, and feared that a battle between them would end in serious injury, maybe even death. "Who," he asks, "would have stopped them?" But Lum did see Wong the very next day at the Jackson Cafe, where the young grand master earned his living as a waiter (he had, in fact, worked a full shift at the busy Chinatown restaurant the previous day before fighting Lee). And Lum says the only evidence he saw of the fight was a scratch above one eye, a scratch Wong says was inflicted when Lee went for his eyes as he extended his arm for the opening handshake."Some people say Bruce Lee beat up Jack Man bad," note Lum. "But if he had, the man would not have been to work the next day." By Lum’s assessment, the fact that neither man suffered serious injury in a no-holds-barred battle indicates that both were "very, very good." Both men were no doubt, very, very, good. But Wong, after the fight, felt compelled to assert, boldly and publicly, that he was the better of the two. He did so, he says, only because Lee violated their agreement to not discuss the fight.According to Wong, immediately following the match Lee had asked that neither man discuss it. Discussion would lead to more argument over who had won, a matter which could never be resolved as there had been no judges. Wong said he agreed.But within a couple of weeks, he says, Lee violated the agreement by claiming in an interview that he had defeated an unnamed challenger. Though Lee had not identified Wong as the loser, Wong says it was obvious to all of Chinatown that Lee was speaking of Wong. It had already become common knowledge within the Chinese community that the two had fought. In response to Lee’s interview, Wong wrote a detailed description of the fight which concluded with an open invitation to Lee to meet him for a public bout if Lee was not satisfied with Wong’s account. Wong’s version of the fight, along with the challenge, was run as the top story on the front page of San Francisco’s Chinese language Chinese Pacific Weekly. But Bruce Lee, despite his reputation for responding with fists of fury to the slightest provocation, remained silent.Now death has rendered the man forever silent. And the question of whether Wong presented Lee, who is considered by many to have been the world’s top martial artist, with the only defeat of his adult life will remain, among those concerned about such matters, forever a controversial one. Even those Bruce Lee fans who accepts the evidence as supportive of Wong’s account of the fight may argue that the outcome would have been different had the two battled a few years after Lee had developed his own style, Jeet Kune Do. But while it is true that Jeet Kune Du provided lee with a wider range of weapons, particularly kicks, it is also true that Wong continued to grow as a martial artist after the fight. Only after that battle, says Wong, did he develop tremendous chi powers from the practice of Tai Chi, Hsing I, and Pakua.Martial art styles can be divided roughly into two categories: external and internal. External styles, which are also called "hard" styles and which include such American favorites as Japanese karate and Korean taekwondo, rely primarily upon muscular strength, while internal or "soft" styles, such as Japanese Aikido and the three above-mentioned Chinese styles, cultivate a more mysterious energy called chi.Although everybody has chi, few people have much of it, and fewer still know how to express it. But according to the Chinese, this precious elixir can be cultivated and controlled through the exercises of the internal martial arts styles.Specifically, they say chi can be brewed in the tan tien, a spot about an inch below the navel. Once the tan tien is filled, the chi supposedly spills out into other parts of the body, where it is stored in the marrow of the bones. It is said that as a martial artist develops chi energy, his bones become hard, his sinews tough, is muscles supple and relaxed, which allow the chi to circulate freely through the body.Chi usually takes much longer to develop than muscular strength, but it is considered a much more formidable energy. In normal times it is said to serve as a source of extraordinary vitality and as a guardian against my diseases. And in battle, it is said to provide a person with awesome power and near invulnerability.Though Wong had been trained in the internal styles while still in China, up until the time he fought Lee he had concentrated mainly on the refinement of his elegantly athletic Northern Shaolin, which, like Lee’s Wing Chun, is an external style. Following the battle with Lee, Wong would train in the internal styles until he had developed such chi power that he can, according to Peter Ralston, a former student of Wong and the first non-Asian to win the Chinese Martial Arts World Championships in Taiwan, take a punch to any part of his body without injury or even discomfort. As for Wong’s offensive capabilities, they have apparently never been tested.Regarding the question of how much Lee grew as a martial artist after the fight, Wong is convinced that the benefits to Lee from his homemade style were more than offset by the damage it did him. Wong even goes so far as to speculate that Jeet Kune Do may have caused Lee’s death.Most martial arts masters agree that just as serious training in a proper method can greatly improve one’s health, strenuous and prolonged training in an improper method can destroy health. Of the health damage is attributed to improper breathing practices, and often the damage is to the brain. Special use of the breath is acknowledged by every martial arts style as a key element to developing power, though different styles have different breathing methods. Proper methods can be simply categorized as those which develop power while building health, and improper methods as those which either fail to build power or build it but at the expense of one’s health. Though many of the ways in which breathing methods affect health remain mysterious, the methods themselves - at least the proper methods - have been empirically refined over many generations. Wong’s Northern Shaolin, for example, can be traced back to the great Shaolin Temple of more than a thousand years ago, which is considered the source of Chinese martial arts. While the Wing Chun practiced by Lee until his fight with Wong also had a long period of development and refinement, the style he put together after the fight was a chop suey of many and varied ingredients.That Jeet Kune Do lacked the cohesion and harmony of a style in the traditional sense was something acknowledged by Lee himself, who preferred to call it a "sophisticated form of street fighting" rather than a style. After abandoning Wing Chin, Lee developed a disdain for all traditional styles, which he considered restrictive and ineffective. He even went so far as to place outside his school a mock tombstone that read: "In memory of a once fluid man crammed and distorted by the classical mess." It is grimly ironic that it would be Lee would be in need of a tombstone long before the man, trained by and loyal to the "classical mess," who was almost certainly his most formidable opponent.It cannot be proven, of course, that Lee’s fatal edema of the brain was caused by Jeet Kune Do, just as it could not be proven his death was brought on by any of the other rumored causes ranging from illicit drugs to excessive sex to blows on the head. Wong thinks, to serve as a caution to those who believe they can, by themselves, develop the knowledge it has taken others many generations of cumulative effort to acquire.Perhaps it is because he gives so much credit to those who came before him that Wong’s voice is absent of boast when he says his art was superior to Lee’s. But while to him that is a matter of simple fact, Wong, aware that legends are larger than men, is not optimistic about ever being accepted as the winner of the fight. He says, however, that what people think regarding the outcome of the fight is less important to him than what they think provoked the battle in the first place.In Linda Lee’s account, which has been repeated in a number of Bruce Lee biographies, Wong is portrayed not only as a loser but also as a villian. According to Ms. Lee, Wong provoked the fight in an attempt to force her husband to stop teaching Kung Fu to Caucasians.After sketching a brief history of Chinese martial arts up to the Boxer Rebellion, she writes: "Since then - and the attitude is understandable - Chinese, particularly in America, have been reluctant to disclose these secrets to Caucasians. It became an unwritten law that the art should be taught only to Chinese. Bruce considered such thinking completely outmoded and when it was argued that white men, if taught the secrets, would use the art to injure the Chinese, he pointed out that if a white man really wanted to injure a Chinese, there were plenty of other ways he could do it. "However, Bruce soon found that at first his views were not shared by members of the Chinese community in San Francisco, particularly those in martial arts’ circles. Several months after he and James Lee had begun teaching, a kung fu expert called Wong Jack Man turned up at Bruce’s kwoon (school) on Broadway. Wong had just recently arrived in San Francisco’s Chinatown from Hong Kong and was seeking to establish himself at the time, all his pupils being strictly pure Chinese. Three other Chinese accompanied Wong Jack Man who handed Bruce an ornate scroll which appears to have been an ultimatum from the San Francisco martial arts community. Presumably, if Bruce lost the challenge, he was either to close down his Institute or stop teaching Caucasians."So by Linda Lee’s account, her husband had suddenly found himself in a position no less heroic than of having to defend, possibly to the death, the right to teach Caucasians the ancient Chinese fighting secrets. It is a notion that Wong finds ridiculous.The reason he showed up at Lee’s school that day, says Wong, is because a mutual acquaintance had hand-delivered a note from Lee inviting him to fight. The note was sent, say Wong, after he had requested a public bout with Lee after Lee had boasted during a demonstration at a Chinatown theater that he could beat any martial artist in San Francisco and had issued an open challenge to fight anyone who thought he could prove him wrong. As for those in attendance at the fight, Wong says he only knew of few of them, and those barely. Certainly, he says, no group had come as formal representative of the San Francisco martial arts community. Wong attributes both Lee’s initial challenge and his response to the same emotion, to arrogance. "If I had it to do over," he says, " I wouldn’t." But while admitting to youthful arrogance, Wong strongly contests Linda Lee’s allegation that he was guilty of trying to stop Bruce Lee from teaching Caucasians.It is true, say Wong, that most - but not all - of his students during his first years were teaching were Chinese. But that was true, he adds, only because few Americans outside of Chinese communities had even heard of kung fu. Americans who then knew anything at all of the martial arts most likely knew of Japanese judo or karate. They would not hear of kung fu until several years later, when it would be made famous by the dazzling choreography's of Bruce Lee.Far from attempting to keep kung fu secret and exclusive, Wong observes that his was the first school in San Francisco’s Chinatown to operate with open doors. That the other kung fu schools then in existence conducted classes behind locked doors was due more to the instructor’s fears of being challenged, say Wong, than to a refusal to teach Caucasians. Once Caucasians became interested in kung fu, it would be Wong who would train some of the best of them, including Ralston and several other leading West Coast instructors. And all of these students of Wong who currently teaches at San Francisco’s Fort Mason Center would be taught for a monthly fee amounting to a fraction of the hourly rate (in some cases $500) charged by the man who allegedly fought for the right to teach them.

[newagesispage]

                                                                      APRIL    2021

THE RIB PAGE

*****

The Grammy’s held their ceremony. Bla Bla.. Noah Cyrus wore a popcorn dress.  Harry Styles was hot as hell. Dua Lipa, Cynthia Erivo, Ingrid Andress and Megan Thee Stallion were my best dressed. Cudos to Bruno Mars and Anderson Paak for their little Richard tribute!! Hooray for Tiffany Haddish!!

*****

The Oscar noms are out and Mank ran away with the most. Woo Hoo! The trial of the Chicago 7, Nomadland and Gary Oldman were all nominated. I was surprised that One night in Miami did not get more love but hooray for Leslie Odom Jr. I was thrilled for Crip Camp and My Octopus Teacher which are about the best movies of the year but sad not to see All in: Fight for democracy. I would bet on Ma Rainey’s black bottom for costmes!!  Glenn Close has now been nominated 8 times with no wins.  Winners will be announced on April 25.

*****

The Torlonia exhibit may soon be coming to America. I can’t wait!! The ancient Greek and Roman marble sculptures are one of the greatest private collections.

*****

Here comes the George Floyd trial! The testimony gets worse everyday.

*****

All hail Lady Dynamite!!!! Maria Bamford just gets better with age.

*****

The art collective behind the “Satan shoes” has been sued by Nike. The lil’ Nas X 666 shoes sold out but Nike claims trademark infringement. Nike did not design or release them and does not endorse them. They are really black and red air max 97 sneakers. The company, MSCHF modified them as they did in 2019 with the “Jesus shoes.” I do not think they were sued for that. Fair?? I say make your own!!

*****

A guy named Brian created his own video store in his basement during the quarantine.  He is not the first but it is bringing national attention.

*****

Volkswagon pulled an IHOP and fooled the media into thinking they were changing their name to Voltswagon. They claimed they are highlighting the electric car but it was just a joke. Why do these companies think they are so clever?? They just end up looking ridic!! VW seemed perplexed that people did not react all that well to the fake out.

*****

The Catholic Church does not want to bless same sex marriages. The announcement caused Elton John to let us know that the Church had invested in the movie, Rocketman. The Church won’t comment but it has since been confirmed that they invested 1.2 mil.

*****

Why would they think we wouldn’t notice how bad they are trying to fuck the voters?  Coca cola is one of the big funders in this endeavor to take away rights. ** Hooray for the house for their sweeping election reform bill.

*****

How the fuck did Ron Johnson get elected? Can we stop it with electing the stupid people?

*****

The Dr. Seuss family and the publishers decided to pull 6 books from print. The books did not sell well and had a few racist pages so good riddance. That is just good business. I don’t understand the big deal.

*****

Why is Piers Morgan such a dick? I do not know anyone that is surprised about the Sharon Osbourne story. I don’t know if I have ever heard a good story about her. She is now out at the Talk with a reported 7 figure settlement to leave.** I don’t know if the cancel is right or wrong but hearing less from Piers and Sharon sounds like a more peaceful world. They just always struck me as rich, unhappy people.

*****

Scary Clown 45 has asked that supporters send $ directly to him and not to the GOP. ** Lara Trump, chairwoman of a dog charity are under scrutiny for bringing us another scam.** Fauci flattered Trump into telling people to get vaccinated.

*****

Don Cheadle will narrate the new Wonder Years.

*****

It feels like the “Bridge era”.  Bridgerton, Phoebe Waller- Bridge and Phoebe Bridgers are having a moment. Every so often there seems to be these famous names with familiarity that come in cycles. There was all the Seth’s and all the Kristen variations and of course, Dermot and Dylan.

*****

Heard the best porn name on James Corden: Bonkers Eddie.

*****

This month in sex offender news: Deshawn Watson has been accused of sexual assault.** Alabama Shakes drummer Steven Johnson was arrested for child abuse.** I see people also talking again about a 2018 revelation. It is said that Brendan Fraser’s career was sabotaged after being sexually assaulted by the ex- President of the Hollywood foreign press, Philip Berk in 2003. In Berk’s memoir, he claims it was a ‘joke.” Another reason he was out of work was the surgeries after the Mummy movies. The stunt work caused him to have a laminectomy, partial knee replacement, back and vocal cord surgeries over a 7 year period.

*****

Hackers broke into Tesla with live footage from the factory floors. There have been large outbreaks from the Tesla plants.

*****

Please stop admiring people who would kill you for profit. – Mike Monteiro

*****

Biden once told Putin that he had no soul and Putin apparently told him, “We understand each other. “ Biden also called him a killer.

*****

Death penalty for abortion? Yea, that makes sense.

*****

Bats don’t recognize borders and China won’t let anyone really know where it all began.  Bat dung collectors test samples all the time. Thus far they have not had one positive test.  The World Health Organization is in a quandary about their report because of China’s lack of compliance.

*****

Are U ready for debauchery and fun?? I After all the restraints that SOME of us have shown, I predict that 100 years after the Roaring 20’s, they will be back with a vengeance. The crazies who want all to be normal already.. wait!! Save lives and after the vaccines are all handed out, look out!!!** Wouldn’t it be funny to put that old 20’s type narration over today’s headlines? **Kudos to the wrestlers in Mexico who were forcing masks on people.** Before the end od March, I have since heard others prediction of the Roaring 20’s.

*****

$143 billion has been spent in Afghanistan and a recent investigation shows that a lot of that was mismanaged. A lot of what was supposed to come with that, never happened.

*****

The film, The Last Blockbuster made me sentimental for my old job managing video stores.  No wonder other endeavors never seemed fulfilling. I did hate the dusting but that was a small price to pay. I will admit, also, like Kevin Smith admitted in the film, there was some sex in the video store. Good times!

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The Atlanta massage parlor killings come at a time when our family just found out some secrets. A bunch of the males in a particular part of the fam who claim religious superiority and love of Trump were recently seen in a new light. The patriarch of said fam had taught his son and son in law to visit strip clubs and less reputable massage parlors on the quiet.** There has been a 150% increase in Asian hate crimes.** Bill Maher mentioned the Christian and Muslim shooters and then said, “Today an atheist went crazy and rearranged his books.”** The body of one of the Atlanta victims, Daoyou Feng has yet to be claimed.

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Imagine calling yourself a Christian and thinking following Jesus means giving people weapons and denying them water. –Mike Jollett

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Face the Nation has become the Covid Report. There are other things going on. Not to mention that until there are enough available vaccines, what is the point? When will my elderly Mother be eligible because so far, it has been a no go, no matter what we do. Let’s worry about the people who do not want it after we vaccinate the ones that do.

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Arkansas Gov. Asa Hutchinson signed a bill to grant Dr.’s and medical professionals the right to refuse patients based on “moral, ethical or religious grounds.”

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Brian Kemp signed a 95 page Georgia GOP voter suppression bill.

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I can give a person waiting in line to vote in Georgia a gun but not a drink of water. –E. Jean Carroll

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Bernie Sanders is trying to lower the age for Medicare to 55.

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Are there large versions of Zingers or Suzy Q’s?? It seems like Hostess would make a killing on birthday or wedding cakes that looked like the lil’ snack cakes. Just think of it, giant ding dongs!!

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Virginia abolished the death penalty which brings the total of states without capital punishment is 23.

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The film Nobody with Bob Odenkirk was # 1 with a $6.7 mil debut.

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Riverdale will be back for season 6. Any program that shows homage to NFB 418, I’m in.

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The Sharon Osborne story brings up the old dilemma; Can we separate the person who’s never done anything from the work they’ve never done? –Frank Conniff**

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Yaphet Kptto helped Michael Moore expose taxi drivers refusal to pick up black customers on TV Nation in 1993.

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Arrested Development could never be the same without Mama Bluth. I never thought I would say this but I hope there is never another Arrested. Without Jessica Walter, it could never be the same.

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R.I.P. John Burks, Richie Tienken, Tony Hendon, Bunny Wailer, Bill C. Davis, Barbara Rickles, Isidore Mankofsky,Yaphet Kotto, Atlanta shooting victims, Beverly Cleary, Glynn Lunney, Larry Mcmurtry, George Segal, Larry the cat and Jessica Walter.