#but like man. 6 hour delay becoming a cancellation anyways

[azumasoroshi]

got stuck at the airport for an obscene amount of time yesterday so i while i was waiting i drew messy stsg also stuck in an airport to cope

are they watching esports. is gojo playing honkai star rail. are they watching basics with babish. maybe they’re watching the past version of me write fanfiction about them for the entire 3 hour bus ride to the airport and then for about 3 hours of the 6 hour wait. who knows

[aweseeds]

The Smart Thinker in the North

How is it that Ned Stark has been ridiculed since the first season/book as "dumb" for (some say) a lack of intelligence in recognizing his true enemies & not using all practical means to defeat them; of sticking to his Northern style of politics instead of adapting to the new situation in King's Landing & a wholly different kind of enemy in the Lannisters & Littlefinger than he was used to - yet we now have his son/nephew Jon Snow being ridiculed because he HAS:

1) recognized the truly dangerous enemy,

2) identified said enemy's weaknesses & took actions to maximize exploiting those weaknesses (hello fire breathing dragons and a mountain of dragonglass),

3) made an alliance with the strongest leader in Westeros,

4) made a successful alliance with the North's traditional enemies for a thousand years (notice those Wildings now defending the Wall?)

5) did everything possible to convince other factions to join the alliance, even if it was only temporary,

6) accepted alliances with people he didn't like, such as Littlefinger, but didn't trust that fucker an inch,

7) not left his family unnecessarily exposed to harm,

8) and not been distracted by petty things like his own ego & didn't even take time out for romance (he just learned to multitask, didn't even delay the trip North by an hour for sex, he knocked on her door once the travel was underway, damn he's good).

He managed all that while still sticking to his code of ethics of being honest even when people didn't like the truth and protecting the realms of men. He did it all without becoming a deceitful, despicable character like Littlefinger or Cersei or using their tactics. You know the kind of tactics that Ned Stark abhorred.

So basically Jon is doing everything people wished Ned or Robb had done without sacrificing his moral code, yet he is faced with complaints & mockery for not being miserable all the time because a Fantasy Hero Doing The Right Thing Means He Must Be Miserable?

It's laudable to whine about Jon not clinging to a Northern independence political idea in the face of the apocalypse, where such politics have no meaning? It's okay to bitch Jon out for gaining the North a massive army, special weapons, and a good, just, & experiences ruler who is actually interested in having the job, unlike him? It's smart commendable to be so nearsighted to complain about Jon losing one title when he gains another, retains leadership of the North, has earned himself a place as one of the Queen's advisors (a position Ned Stark didn't have for 17 years), and gives advice the queen ACTUALLY listens to on major issues (Ned couldn't even get Robert to cancel or reduce spending on a tournament that was in Ned's name).

If Ned or Robb had Jon's clear thinking and practical decision-making, the Lannisters would have been soundly defeated seasons ago, there would be thousands more Northern soldiers alive, & the Night King would be facing a tremendously stronger force defensing humanity. Hell, there'd even be more Starks alive.

Jon held onto Northern independence until he determined it was in the North's best interests to bend the knee, that independence was unnecessary to ensure the North had a good, brave, & just ruler. The best leaders do not simply follow public opinion. Real leaders make decisions based on what is best for their people, even if popular opinion disagrees. Jon is a real leader and he gets shit done.

Anyway, the last time the North was independent it didn't last a generation & it ended in disaster, with the slaughter of their king, queen, his mother, and thousands of his bannerman; the North once again under the control of the Lannisters; the Starks lost Winterfell, their lands, & any political power in the North to Robb's murderer; and the North gained a new vicious Warden of the North who didn't hesitate to flay Northerners.

The North is no longer independent, but this time: it was an action taken voluntarily by the King in the North; no Northerner was killed or maimed; the North continues to be free of Lannister rule; the new ruler is coming to defend the North against its enemies: both Night King & Cersei when the North is incapable of defending itself against either enemy; the Starks fully retain control of Winterfell, their lands, & their rank as Lord or Lady, the new Warden of the North is a man chosen by the North to lead them & descended from centuries of Stark Wardens; and the North has re-established a connection to the southern kingdoms who have traditionally sent food and resources in winter that prevented Northerners from starving to death.

Jon has ensured the North is doing far better than it was before he bent the knee. If some Northerners and any of his siblings can't grasp that basic fact, then their losing yet another war and becoming ice zombies looks inevitable.

The fact that Jon fell in love and is getting spectacularly laid is merely the universe finally rewarding him for all his efforts. How about a noble hero get to enjoy some happiness before the very end of the damn story?

Besides I don't recall anybody claiming that Ned was thinking with any body part other than his brain when he bent the knee to his childhood best friend, even though said best friend would have murdered his nephew, and eventually enjoyed a loving marriage & healthy sex life instead of declaring the North an independent kingdom after Robert's Rebellion.

Wow, Jon's dick is smarter than all the Stark family. It currently appears to be the smartest appendage in all Westeros.

[pentakillmaven]

The Nose Knows, Chapter 7 (NaNoWriMo 2018)

Hello again! Sorry for the delay on posting this chapter! I’ve actually written through Chapter 9 at this point but I was afraid to post with all the crazy stuff going on with Tumblr recently. However, I figured it’s been too long, so here’s Chapter 7!

Chapter Rating: T (Actually probably more of a G but want to be safe)

Chapter Warnings: Mild angst in this chapter, but we’re getting closer to the payoff!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 7

Marinette collapsed onto her chaise face down, groaning into the pillow. "Tikkiiiiiii… Do I have to go on patrol tonight?"

Tikki clicked her tongue rather unsympathetically at her holder. "Marinette, you're the one who scheduled this group patrol in the first place. It's not becoming of a hero to cancel something this important at the last minute.

"I know," Marinette grumbled as she rolled over to face her Kwami. "But I'm exhausted, and after what just happened with Adrien, I'm…" She didn't even know how to put her thoughts into words just yet. The way his wide green eyes met hers as he handed over her purse… the smell that had been tickling the back of her mind all week… It was all too much for her to comprehend in her current state.

"Well, the transformation will help a bit with the exhaustion, at least," Tikki reasoned.

"That's true… I've noticed that in the past. It's almost like an adrenaline surge, or getting your second wind while staying up all night."

Tikki nodded. "I think you need to go, but I'm sure your friends wouldn't mind if you did cut it a little short tonight."

"Yeah… good idea. But how am I supposed to face Chat, if he's…"

"You'll just have to do your best, Marinette. I'm still not entirely sure what I missed, but I believe you'll do the right thing."

"I hope so… Thanks for listening, Tikki."

"Any time, Marinette." Her Kwami gave her a peck on the cheek, smiling gently at the midnight-haired girl.

"All right, I guess it's time to go." With great effort, Marinette heaved herself to her feet. "Tikki, spots on!"

The quartet of Miraculous holders met up just outside of the Louvre that night. Seeing the exhaustion in her friends’ eyes, she could tell that they were all in the same boat that she was in--no desire to patrol, but feeling the obligation to do so anyway.

“Why don’t we split up into pairs? We can cover more ground that way,” she suggested, conspicuously not looking directly at Chat. “Réna, will you come with me?”

“Of course, Ladybug, but are you sure we can leave the boys to their own devices?” Réna Rouge winked at Carapace and Chat as she spoke.

“They can take care of themselves,” Ladybug replied, turning toward the north. “Réna and I will take the north; Carapace, Chat, you go south. We’ll meet back up here in two hours to debrief before we call it a night.”

“That sounds good to me," Carapace said. Turning to Chat, he asked, “You all right with that, dude?”

“Fine by me.” The black-clad hero was also unusually quiet, not quite meeting anyone’s eyes.

"All right then, let's get this over with. My bed is calling my name."

With a collective nod, the quartet split up, heading in their respective directions. As soon as they were out of earshot of the boys, Réna turned on Ladybug as they made their way across the rooftops of Paris. "All right, LB, you might be able to fool those two knuckleheads, but you can't fool me. What's going on between you and Chat?"

"It's nothing," Ladybug replied tersely. "Chat and I are just fine."

"Oh, please. You know I have three years' worth of video observations of the two of you. You never once looked him in the eye the entire time we were talking. You also stood as far away from him as possible without making it look obvious." When Ladybug leveled Réna with a flat stare, she continued, "I'm pretty sure Carapace didn't notice. I only did because, as previously stated, I've basically been stalking the two of you for three years. Not in a creepy way, but in a journalistic way."

"Right… Look, Réna, you and I both know you had an extremely busy day today, and I did as well, so I really just want to get this patrol over with. If you want to talk about something else, anything else, that's fine; but I am really not in the mood to talk about the current state of my relationship with Chat Noir, okay?"

"Okay, fine," Réna said, a little hurt in her voice.

Ladybug frowned. "I'm sorry. I'm exhausted and not acting like myself. Do you forgive me?"

"Of course. I didn't mean to pry so much. Force of habit, you know?"

"I know. You're going to make a hell of a journalist someday."

"You think so?"

"I know so. I believe in you."

Réna smiled, her eyes a bit watery all of a sudden, "Thanks, Ladybug. That means a lot, coming from you."

Pausing in their patrol for a moment, Ladybug reached over and wrapped her arms around Réna in a hug. "You're welcome." Réna returned the hug readily with a big smile.

Meanwhile, Chat and Carapace were quiet for the better part of half an hour as they started patrolling the southern part of the city. Chat, lost in his thoughts, barely noticed Carapace struggling to keep up with his blistering pace as he raced across rooftops and leaped over streets. It wasn't until Carapace practically yelled his name as he landed on top of Tour Montparnasse that he stopped, turning back to look at the other young man on a lower roof nearby. Wincing, Chat jumped down to rejoin his patrol partner. "Sorry, Carapace… I'm not exactly great company tonight, am I?"

Carapace waved him off, though he was bent double as he caught his breath. After a minute of deep breathing, Carapace looked back up at Chat. "You have something on your mind, dude?"

"Not really… I mean… yes, I do, but I'm not sure if I can talk about it. It's not something I'm supposed to discuss."

"Oh. Well, if you need help with anything, I'm here for you, dude."

"Thanks... " Chat thought for a moment, then remembered something Ladybug had told him back during the Heroes' Day incident. "Actually, I have a question."

"Shoot!"

"You know Réna Rouge's civilian identity, right?"

Carapace nodded. "Yeah, has Ladybug not told you who we are?" When Chat shook his head, Carapace frowned slightly. "Oh… Okay, well I guess I won't say it then. But yeah, Réna and I both know each other as civilians. Why do you ask?"

"Well… how did you feel when you found out?"

"How did I feel? Mostly confused, I guess. I mean, I'd never met Réna before that day, so I had no idea she was secretly a superhero. But she already knew, or at least had a hunch, that I was Carapace. I mean, thinking back on it, I guess it was kind of obvious. I was trying to keep her safe from an Akumatized villain, Ladybug saved me at the last second, and then like two minutes later she shows back up with Carapace."

As Carapace spoke, Chat nodded along, remembering the day that Carapace had helped Ladybug defeat Anansi. But hearing that day from Carapace's point of view made something click in Chat's head. "Wait… wait a second. Nino?"

Carapace gave Chat a weak chuckle. "Heh heh… hey, dude."

"Wait, so if you're Nino… Réna is Alya, isn't she?" Everything made sense now--like why Réna and Carapace already had so much chemistry together. They were dating! When Carapace nodded again, Chat flopped down onto the roof, unable to keep his legs under him.

"Okay, okay, so you're Nino, Réna is Alya… do either of you know who Ladybug's civilian identity is?"

"No way, dude. She hasn't revealed anything to us about who she is in real life. She hasn't told you, either, has she?"

"No, she hasn't… I've asked her before, but she insists that it's important for us to keep our identities safe."

"I mean, I can kind of understand why. Alya--Réna Rouge--and I haven't fought any Akumatized villains since that incident a few years ago, but I know that when I first got my powers as Carapace I was terrified that something would happen and Alya would get hurt. I can't imagine how much worse it will be if she gets attacked by a villain while she isn't Réna Rouge--especially if it's my fault that she is targeted in the first place."

"That's… a good point, actually," Chat conceded. "But you'll be able to watch each other's backs, since you see each other every day."

"True. I think I know where you're coming from--you think that you and Ladybug should reveal your identities to one another, don't you?"

"Yes! I'm glad someone else gets it."

"Yeah, I get it. I'm not sure I fully agree, but I understand at least."

"What do you mean, you don't fully agree?"

"Well… Look at it this way. If I didn't know Alya was Réna, then I would be concerned for her, sure, but I wouldn't be scared for her. You know? Like... hypothetically speaking, if a villain found out who I was, and went after Alya to get to me… I don't know how I would handle it."

"Oh…" Chat thought about that for a moment, picturing Marinette in his head, happy and smiling… and then picturing Hawk Moth standing over her lifeless body… just the mental image made him shudder with fear and tension. "Okay, I see what you're getting at."

"Good. I'm not saying it's necessarily a bad thing for you to find out, but I'm also not saying it's something you should rush into. You know?"

"Yeah, I understand. If it happens organically, that's one thing… but maybe trying to force her hand isn't the best idea."

"Definitely not. That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen."

"Thanks for the advice. I needed that."

"Any time, dude! Now, let's get back to patrolling so we can finish up and head home. I'm completely wiped out."

Chat nodded in agreement. "Definitely. We have a lot of ground to cover and less than an hour and a half to do it in. I'll try not to leave you behind this time."

"Thanks. I get that you're more experienced at this than me, but you don't have to rub it in my face!"

"Sorry! That was claw-fully rude of me." At the pun, Carapace groaned and rubbed his temples with his hands.

"If this is what it's like to patrol with you all the time, I can see why Ladybug needed a break," he replied playfully.

"Hey! Don't you talk about My Lady like that!" Carapace laughed and darted off, Chat leaping after him, starting a game of cat-and-turtle that doubled as their patrol.

Finally, close to midnight, the heroes returned to their starting point at the Louvre. Ladybug and Réna made it just a few minutes before Chat and Carapace, waiting for the boys on the highest portion of the museum's roof.

"Where have you two slowpokes been?" Réna asked when Chat and Carapace joined them.

"Oh, you know, just off doing guy stuff," Chat replied.

"So, what, having a burping competition or something?"

Chat had the good sense to look scandalized at the suggestion, but Carapace laughed and nudged Chat in the ribs. "Dude, she's on to us!"

Ladybug giggled at Carapace's response. "Looks like you two are getting along well."

"Yeah, I think we're going to be good friends," Chat said, turning to Carapace and offering a fist bump. The green-clad hero returned the gesture readily.

"Well, I think it's about time I hit the road," Réna said, stifling a yawn. "I need to be getting back home soon or my family might realize that I'm gone."

"Actually, I'm in the same boat." Carapace stepped toward Réna as he spoke. "Let me walk you home?"

"I suppose," Réna acquiesced with an overly dramatic sigh. "But only because you're cute. Don't stay up too late, you two!"

"Good night guys! Great work tonight!" Ladybug called as the two headed off toward home. She watched them leave for a minute until they were out of sight, then turned to Chat. "So… looks like it's just you and me, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Chat replied, looking down at his boots intently.

"So… how was your trip?"

"It was fine."

"That's good… Did anything exciting happen while you were gone?"

"Not really."

Ladybug frowned softly, crossing her arms over her chest. "If you don't want to talk to me, Chat, that's fine. But did I do something wrong?"

Ladybug expected any number of things to come out of Chat's mouth--that he was tired, that he couldn't talk about it, that he was angry about something--but what she actually heard was something she absolutely never expected Chat Noir to say. "You stink."

"I--I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, you smell."

"I smell? That's the reason you don't want to talk to me? That's pretty rich coming from the guy whose Kwami eats so much Camembert it's practically oozing out of your pores."

"Oh yeah? Well, your Kwami smells like you've stuffed her full of cookie dough!" Chat raised his eyes to glare at Ladybug.

That settled it--there was no way that Chat Noir could ever be Adrien Agreste. Adrien would never say anything like that, especially to Ladybug. "Well, you smell like a… like a hobo who fell in the sewer!"

"You smell like burnt toast."

"Oh, you take that back!"

"Make me, margarine," Chat spat. With a roar, Ladybug launched herself at him, knocking him to the ground in an all-out tussle.

Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, Ladybug realized that this whole exchange was completely out of character for her--for both of them, in point of fact. But between the late night, the excruciating tests, and that strange tension between Marinette and Adrien earlier, Ladybug had been walking a tightrope of pent-up emotion. Apparently, the same could be said for Chat. All it had taken for the dam to burst was one exhaustion-fueled comment.

In her moment of introspection, Chat got the upper hand in the wrestling match, grabbing Ladybug's wrists and pinning her to the ground, straddling her hips. Looking up at Chat, Ladybug was about to try to buck him off when their eyes met, a strange frisson of energy coursing down her spine. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw how the moonlight reflected in Chat's luminous green eyes, turning his blond hair to pure liquid gold. Chat, too, seemed lost in Ladybug's eyes, his face softening and his grip on her wrists loosening.

"My Lady..."

"Chaton…"

Their faces slowly came closer together, their breath mingling in the narrowing space between them as Ladybug leaned up and Chat leaned down. Ladybug's eyes were glued to Chat's mouth, her own opening as she wet her suddenly dry lips. The movement of her tongue seemed to draw Chat's eyes as well, a soft groan escaping his mouth.

The sound snapped Ladybug out of her trance-like state--she turned her head away quickly. "I-I should go."

Nodding mutely, Chat clambered off of Ladybug, letting her get to her feet. "I'm sorry for what I said, Bugaboo… Still friends?"

"Of course, Chaton. I'm sorry too." Turning away from Chat, she bounded off, leaving him behind on top of the Louvre.

[lordrul]

Now we’re entering the 43rd day of MCO in Malaysia. It’s April 29th 2020 and the 6th day of Ramadan.

Malaysia’s Movement Control Order (MCO) period started with :

#Phase1 March 18, 2020 to March 31, 2020

#Phase2 April 1, 2020 to April 14, 2020

#Phase3 April 15, 2020 to April 28, 2020

#Phase4 April 29, 2020 to May 12, 2020

By right, there are 2 more phases to go through and we are still not totally out of it for sure but current indications are trending positively.

Here’s the current situation:

1. Non-essential businesses and offices in Malaysia are closed during the order and staff will continue to work from home. Over 2 millions Malaysians may be left jobless once MCO is over.

2. All forms of learning are online including school & gym classes. Parents are appreciating teachers and caretakers more and more.

3. Only essential shops are operating - groceries, banks, pharmacies, petrol stations and now hardware stores.

4. Face masks are now a commodity and have became a fashion trend for some.

5. Sanitizers, disinfectants and soaps are now essentials.

6. Most shops won't allow you to enter unless you have a face mask on and your temperature taken.

7. Shops stick tape on the floor to help customers keep a distance of 1 meter between each other.

8. Restaurants are only open for takeaways. Delivery is life.

9. The number of people allowed to enter the store at any one time is limited.

10. Non-essential shops and enterprises are closed with some closing down permanently unfortunately .

11. All entertainment outlets are closed.

12. There is now a curfew. We cannot be outside our homes after 6pm. All essential shops close by 6pm but naturally you do not want to be in stores for too long!

13. Public transport is only available at certain hour’s.

14. Most airplanes are grounded and tickets are crazy expensive but who would want to travel right now anyway.

15. Hotels are converted to quarantine centres with most shutting down.

16. The entire sports season is cancelled. Liverpool’s chance of glory to officially claim the EPL title after 30 years hanging in the balance even though they are a massive 25 points from their next challenger, previous EPL title holder Man City and only requiring 2 more wins from 9 games remaining 😧

17. Concerts, excursions, festivals and entertainment activities have been cancelled / postponed.

18. Weddings, family celebrations, holiday parties - postponed

19. No gatherings allowed. Places of worship are closed - mosques,churches, temples. Services are held online. Lonely calls of the Azan can be heard, but you are not invited to the mosque.

20. Social media and e-living have become more apparent to all levels of society and age groups

21. The government has roadblocks everywhere and prohibits all unnecessary travel and leaving one’s residence (only alllowed to travel for groceries and medical reasons) with fines and in some cases prison for breach of such though there is a situation of having one law applied for d politicians and friends off and another for d rakyat.

22. Petrol is RM1.25 and yet no one is queuing at stations.

23. The Health DG is more popular than the PM.

24. Not all politicians can see the humanitarian side of things and are still politicking hard even in these troubled times

25. There are daily updates on new cases, rehabilitation cases and deaths from all govt depts.

26. Frontliners - doctors, nurses, police, paramedics, and others at curbing the disease are the real heroes. Tqvm 👍🙏🙏✊️💛

27. Backliners - cleaners, security guards, grocery handlers and even ehailing/delivery riders and others that are helping us get through this trying time, we learn to appreciate all of them more and more.👍✊️✊️🙏😊

28. There are no physical Bazaars to go to this Ramadan.

29. And Raya will most likely be celebrated online with your loved ones...to be updated by 12 May 2020.

But we are still alive and kicking and hopefully finding reasons to put a smile on our faces 🙏😊

Why should I copy this status?

One day, this will appear on my Social Media memory feed to remind me that "life and freedom" are precious. The new norm has begun. Don't take things for granted, but cherish everything ...Think Positively.

You are not stuck at home, you are safe at home and having that extended break allowing you to have more time to get to know your own family, to do those home chores/improvements you have delayed, learn something new such as cook, language, home decorating, origami, magic or follow those thousands of free online videos on ‘how to do something or other’ apart from more formal courses given free by esteem universities such as Harvard n others, get fitter (indoor exercises naturally following one or more of the hundreds of various type of trainers doing HIIT, cycling, yoga etc broadcasting their sessions online or just doing your own exercises), binge watch tv series n movies etc etc or just laze about n get that extended rest you were looking for 🙏🙏☺️

Till our release, stay strong, stay sane, stay safe n be well all. 🙏🤗💛

[chrisoncinema]

Chris on Cinema’s Top Films of 2019

Before we go any further: the best movies of the 2010s that is about the 2000s is The Social Network. The best movie of the 2010s that is about the 2010s is Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. No other film captured, with pop-art colors and four-quadrant appeal, the greatness – and great responsibility – that has been thrust upon Generation Z. In the past few years I have been so inspired by the brave, tireless work of people like Mari Copeny, David Hogg, and Greta Thunberg. They teach us that we all have a role to play in improving our world. In fighting for what is right. I hope that our art in 2020 reflects their courage and lives up to the idea that tomorrow will be brighter if we choose to make it so.

Anyway, here are the movies I couldn’t stop thinking about this year.

10. An Elephant Sitting Still

One could spend the entirety of An Elephant Sitting Still’s four-hour runtime debating whether director Hu Bo’s tragic death diminishes, elevates, or simply distracts from the film itself. It’s a thought that is hard to ignore given that the film is steeped in malaise and haunted by death. An Elephant is difficult to watch but impossible to ignore or look away from; it is full of characters who are difficult to love but impossible not to empathize with. On paper, nothing could seem more one-note or more disheartening than this film and yet its existence challenges us to consider the why of our hurt and our selfishness and our apathy.

9. The Report

The Report is not really interested in being a movie and since it cannot be a documentary it decides to be a dramatic reenactment. It is doggedly journalistic and its matter-of-factness stands in stoic opposition to cathartic sensationalism. The Report owes much in form and function to Steven Soderbergh, for whom Scott Z. Burns, its writer and director, has previously written four screenplays. Soderbergh has made a career of information delivery that is cool and frictionless but still compelling. The Report never quite reaches those heights but it benefits greatly from Adam Driver who is endlessly interesting to watch. Sometimes that’s all you need: the facts and America’s most compelling actor under 40.

8. The Farewell

We can complain about movie ticket prices, we can complain about the number of ads and trailers that delay a movie’s screening, but the fact remains that movies are cheaper than plane tickets and easier to swallow than a semester studying sociology. And therein lies their beauty. The Farewell gives us a seat at the dinner table of a loving but dysfunctional Chinese family. We learn, as with any family, the layers of emotion and meaning embedded beneath seemingly simple conversations. In this way, a simple conceit – the inevitable death of a family member – is imbued with complex and bittersweet repercussions. The Farewell is ensemble piece but it is carried on the slumped shoulders of the charming, emotive Awkwafina. She was new to me here – I look forward to her becoming an old friend.

7. The Lighthouse

Midway through Robert Egger’s new horror two-hander, The Lighthouse, Willem Dafoe gives a dramatic monologue that is so intense, so impassioned, and, most importantly, so long that I could not help but burst out laughing. Despite the film’s cold, miserable, gross conditions, The Lighthouse may have been the most fun I had at the movies this year. Pair that with the film’s astoundingly ecstatic penultimate scene and the aforementioned Dafoe’s craggy face filling the high-contrast black-and-white frame, and you have something purely, simply cinematic. Even if there isn’t much going on below the torrential surface.

6. Uncut Gems

Upping the darkly comic ante is Josh and Benny Safdie’s new film, Uncut Gems. I love the Safide Brothers and I love how much they clearly love film. I love that they know exactly how to use Adam Sandler’s manic, desperate energy. I love that they are constantly daring me not to throw up upon witnessing their exquisitely nauseating characters and cinematography. I do hope their style evolves. Those who have seen the Sadie Brothers’ previous film, Good Time, will not be too surprised by anything here. But the cinematic schadenfreude works for me. As Qui-Gon Jinn said, “Whenever you gamble, my friend, eventually you lose.” Sandler’s Howard loses in the spectacular fashion of a firework malfunction where everything explodes at once. We leave covered in soot, ears ringing, hands shaking, laughing nervously for the rest of the night.

5. Ad Astra

Ad Astra snuck up on me in a way that only James Gray movies seems capable of. It was one of my most anticipated movies of the year but when the lights came up I felt perplexed and disappointed. Days later, though, I could not shake the image of Brad Pitt floating alone in his spaceship. I realized upon reflection that no other film has captured the banal, isolating imprisonment that space travel so obviously portends. Suddenly, what seemed like saccharine melodrama was reframed as the necessary tether back to a humanity so easily lost in the din of industrialization. Before worrying about whether or not we are alone in the universe, we must find reconciliation for those with whom we already occupy space.

4. The Last Black Man in San Francisco

The Last Black Man in San Francisco is odd and specific and observational and soulful. It is about gentrification and race and the performative nature of identity without ever becoming preachy or overly obvious. San Francisco may have benefited from a shorter runtime but what you gain in expediency you undoubtedly lose in atmosphere and in the overflowing humanity and warmth developed by director Joe Talbot and lead Jimmie Fails. The film quietly and gently teaches us that our endless and exhausting irony is often just a mask to hide our ignorance. It’s easy to claim to hate that which you do not know or understand. Love is hard. But investing in something – a relationship, a place – means that against all odds it’s harder not to.

3. Marriage Story

Remember that time Kylo Ren smashed a wall fighting Black Widow and also Alan Alda was there? What a time for movies. Marriage Story’s thesis can be summed up thusly: “Criminal lawyers see bad people at their best, divorce lawyers see good people at their worst.” We all deserve agency and autonomy but what do we owe each other? And what do we allow others to tell us we’re owed? And what, by our actions, do we tell others they deserve?

2. Parasite

It seems that every year there is a movie that, for my skeptical self, does not live up to the hype. Kindly cancel me for stating that Under the Skin, Fury Road, and Annihilation are among them. I respect these movies for their singular vision and for not being made by Disney, but my interest goes that far and no farther. Parasite should have joined that list but I found myself completely engrossed in its intricate twists and turns. I won’t bother reiterating what everyone else has already said about it. It’s one of the best movies of the year.

1. A Hidden Life

The best movie, however, can only go to A Hidden Life. Because when Terrence Malick is good, he’s the best. And his latest film includes an element that has been missing from some of his recent works: necessity. The true story of Franz Jägerstätter, an Austrian farmer who refused to pledge loyalty to Hitler, is an important story for our time and for all time. As with so many movies on this list, A Hidden Life is about the cost of doing what is right rather than what is easy or safe. It is an overwhelming film not only because of its subject but because of the beauty in every fluid shot’s composition. There is a heaviness in A Hidden Life but it is never hopeless. It is a rallying cry for the inherent value and beauty in life. I struggle to write more about it not because it is undeserving but because a Gesamtkunstwerk like this is almost untranslatable. It must be seen. If one of the few theaters that is actually playing A Hidden Life is near you – see it. Full stop.

[theslayover]

A typical day at MIA

After a hectic 48 hours back in Miami to visit a sick relative, I have a 6:21 p.m. flight back to San Francisco. At 4pm my mother- who is stressed from work and having her mother-in-law in the hospital for a myriad of symptoms that could only make sense in an episode of House- decides the dishes in the sink need to be cleaned. And the counter cleaned. And the magazines arranged. I help where I can but try not to push the woman, whose (and I preface this with my mom is the best mom ever) fuse is so short when she’s stressed it’s almost mythical. 

We finally leave around 4:25pm.  The normally 20 minute journey is now between 30 and 40 minutes, apparently because they’ve closed one highway, there’s going to be a basketball game, and because Miami cannot go a day without at least 57 accidents. I wouldn’t generally care but in the back of my mind I’m slightly concerned as my roll-aboard is full of precious cargo: malanga and calabaza that I need for my abuela’s famous caldo recipe and that I cannot get in San Francisco. I can’t imagine I’m violating some random agricultural rule but #Florida. 

Using a combination of Waze, Google maps, my mother’s incorrect intuition and prayers we finally make it to the airport after 5:00pm and my flight boards at 5:40pm. On top of it all, I really wanted to get a cup of coffee before the flight. This sounds like a 1st world problem, however: 

1) I had a lot of work to do and needed to make the most of the 6-hour flight. 

2) Airplane coffee tastes like a young coffee who had all his hopes and dreams in front of him until his parents died and he ended up in the foster system, bounced around house to house cared for by people who only saw him as a paycheck, and then eventually turned to a life of gang violence and drugs. 

I try not to be too stressed, reminding myself that I have both CLEAR and TSA pre-check. 

I run to the security checkpoint and wiz through with CLEAR. No problem. Then the associate informs me that pre-check is closed. It’s 5 goddam pm. The airport is mobbed, why? I’m handed a blue card that allows me to keep my shoes on through security but for the most part I’m stuck in the long, regular security line with throngs of people, all whom from their behavior I can only assume have never flown before. I feel rage surge inside me and think how Miami is a 3rd world country when it comes to logistics. But no, Lauren. You meditated today. You practice A Course in Miracles. How can you judge this way? I breathe deeply and repeat today’s mantra and tell myself it’ll be ok. 

The gentleman next to go through the metal detector steps through. BEEP BEEP BEEP goes the machine. He forgot to take off his belt. For fuck’s sake. He strips it and steps through and BEEP BEEP BEEP I hear again. His wallet. Blessed be. He steps through once more and BEEP BEEP BEEP. The security guard lets him through. Wait what. A mixture of relief and alarm rush over me at once. Please tell me what they missed wasn’t a concealed weapon in his boxers. It’s 5:20pm.

The next gentleman goes through and BEEP BEEP BEEP. My metaphysical ears bleed. 

I finally make it past all the First Time Flying Club’s members and a Portuguese family of 4 who have every iPad and child electronic imaginable, set my bags on the x-ray, tear out my laptop- one of the cons of Diet Pre-check- and I go through the metal detector. I set the fucking thing off. Thanks Cartier Love bracelet. I tell the confused TSA associate the bracelet is literally screwed onto my wrist (I feel so stupid saying this aloud...this is why women make less) and make my way to the higher security machine. I make it through without a hitch and run to the conveyor with my bags in time to see the man running the X-Ray pull my roll-aboard to the side for a bag check. Of course. It’s just before 5:30pm and I stand in silent horror as the man who is to perform bag searches decides to pick up every bin off of the conveyors before conducting the search. But I know better than to rush him, as then he’ll also decide to go back to school and get a medical degree before helping me. 

He finally decides it’s time to actually make sure my bag doesn’t have a bomb in it. I walk over to the examination area and anxiously wait as he open my suitcase. He unzips the side area inside my Away bag and he pulls out a bag of coffee. Oh. That’s what set off the alarm. Of course. But as he’s pulling it out he sees the calabaza. I explain to him in Spanish “It’s calabaza and I need it for my grandmother’s caldo recipe,” have laughing half pleaing (please God not the calabaza). He seems pretty un-phased. He goes to search the other side of my bag, saying the machine saw something else solid. “Pan?” (bread) he asks. But then he finds the malanga. “You’re taking all of Miami back with you!” he says. “It’s for my grandmother’s recipe, I can’t find this in San Francisco, Mexicans don’t really cook with malanga!” I exclaim. He places the malanga back in my suitcase, looks at me seriously and says “I bet Mexicans have never seen a malanga.” I didn’t have time to contemplate the strange cultural burn. I thanked him profusely and dashed to my next stop. 5:35pm.

I get to the Starbucks line, which is blessedly short. Three people head of my and about 5 minutes till boarding. The next person approaches the register and places an order, and the cashier gives them the total. The person looks at the cashier, seemingly surprised that they have to pay and only then starts to rifle through their bags looking for a wallet. 

It’s always been pet peeve for my father and I when a person will stand in and go through an entire line and only after ordering do they start to look for money. I can’t stand wasting people’s time and you think at an airport this would be less common but this is MIA, and it’s clearly everyone’s first time flying. 

I make it to the gate just at the start of pre-boarding (because nothing is on time in Miami), at about 5:45. I walk onto the plane panting, coffee and bags in hand. I think of all those photos of celebrities and influencers who travel through airports looking so adorable. Do they actually look like that, or do they take stock photos at various airports and just load them when they go on a trip? 

The pilot’s voice on the PA interrupts my #lifehack idea: “Ladies and gentlemen, we are already to take off here but we’ve just been alerted that someone must have removed one of the covers of the floor emergency exit signs, and the bulb has also been destroyed. We are contacting Maintenance now and will be back to you shortly with a fix update. As you know with the latest airline incidents (thank Boeing) we are all being extra cautious.”

I’m overtaken by mixture of laughter and disbelief; thoughts raced through my head: 

“Of course after all that, we ‘d be delayed anyway.”

“This has got to be the craziest reason for a delay I’ve experienced”

“I’m pretty sure if we are going down, my inability to find one of the 40 emergency exit signs will not save us.”

“This might be the first time I could understand anything the pilot said over the PA.”

Passengers start to deplane, anxious to get on a different flight in hopes of making connections or at least to yell at gate agents, who will undoubtedly out IDGAF them 10:1. 

After texting and sharing a few laughs with family and friends via text, I decide I might as well start working so I can get most of it out of the way before I get too tired. I reach for my backpack to take out my laptop- and realize I’ve left it at security. 

Being a veteran of pre-check I NEVER take my laptop out of my bag anymore. With the scare of getting my roll-aboard searched, I forgot to replace it after it came out of the X-Ray. I run to the front of the plane and tell the flight attendants I don’t want to cancel this flight but only need to grab my laptop. Thankfully since people were deplaning anyway, I was able to get off.

I raced down the terminal, the sound of my flip flops drawing stares and snickers as they watched a small woman in a maxi dress race across a terminal. Of course my gate was the farthest. I got to security gasping for air. Through my lungs loudly fighting for life, I explained to the TSA agents my plight. They had my laptop and let it go before I managed to log into it, I suppose they figured no one would purposely steal a 12 pound, soiled HP. 

I raced back down the terminal and gasping even more loudly, got back onto the plane. My seatmate saw me and gave me a silent “yay!” as I walked down the aisle. I plopped myself ever so gracelessly onto the seat, breathing (panting) a sigh of relief. The pilot’s voice comes back over the PA: “ladies and gentlemen, I really apologize but we don’t know how long it’s going to be, so we are going to go ahead and deplane.” Motherfuck.

The rest of the evening consisted of other fun things like finding out that all the other United planes at the airport were some other type of Boeing, and our plane had a slightly different size of emergency exit cover, finally bumming one off an American Airlines plane (the one good thing that airline has ever done for me), and then taking off 2 and 1/2 hours later. 

This sounds like a crazy, stressful day and it kind of was. But in situations like these I’ve found that when you find yourself stressing and adamant that something has to work a certain way, and your actions become reactive, anxious and impatient, that’s when things really go wrong. Being worked up has made me forget things (like my laptop), gotten me into fender benders, arguments and in the end, nowhere. Even in times when I’ve gotten what I wanted after seemingly swimming against the universe’s current, it’s never been as good as I thought.

When you think of it, if the plane hadn’t been delayed, I would’ve realized the laptop was missing when we are already in the air. There was no WiFi on that flight (ah United), so I would’ve been fit to be tied for SIX HOURS not being able to work on the presentation for the next day, not being able to tell anyone, wondering if it was stolen etc. My mom’s and my drive to the airport was stressful navigating and we didn’t really get to enjoy our last moments together.

So if my crazy/ funny story can help you take a step back before your brain Hulk’s out, my job here is done. And when you feel ready to see how enlightened you are, make sure you fly out of Miami.  

[gaiatheorist]

Communication.

Welcome to the UK in November 2017. On December 6th, I’ll take a £5 return bus-trip to the city centre, for an ‘open day’ for vacancies within the NHS, specifically for people with disabilities. I’d say I’m being over-analytical in assuming that the event is to back-fill the low-end vacancies that will be left as overseas workers return to their countries of origin in the midst of this EU-uncertainty, but that’s what it is. I’ll ‘lose’ a chunk of a day I should spend seeking suitable employment, explaining the things I can’t-do-now. I can do a lot of things, just not for a whole day any more, and the NHS pay-rates are awful, for the menial work that will be on offer. Yes, somebody needs to change the sheets, and push the tea-trolley, but I have brain injuries that make fluorescent lights unbearable, and only one of my hands works properly. I can’t even apply for the higher-paid audio typing roles, because my accuracy wouldn’t pass the speed-test, I have to correct so many red-underlines these days that my previously-phenomenal typing speed is now only average.

The irony, that I’ll have to explain my deficits to the NHS, who are the one agency that already hold that information, and just choose not to share it. Of course the staff at the recruitment day won’t have access to my medical records, my work-coach patiently explained ‘neurological condition’ to the person on the other end of the phone several times, and had to spell my name out three times. She was red in the face, and very angry when she had to repeat “No, absolutely not domestic or porterage service!” Box-ticking and back-filling. I’ll comb my hair, and smile politely, and explain what I can do, to ‘pass’ the sanctions-bar, there’s a possibility that I’ll be sanctioned anyway, for being ‘unsuitable’ for the roles that will be on offer. I bet the system is fast enough to take the ‘sanction’ from my December payment. Merry Christmas, DWP, I’m already trying to decide whether I can afford the £3 Morrisons ‘wonky’ veg box in my next grocery delivery, or whether I should take it out, and just buy the potatoes, carrots, and onions. 

That’ll be a new communication, phoning various companies to say I’ve had to cancel my direct debits because I won’t have enough money to cover them, the  contents insurance is extortionate at £26 per month, but there’s a chance my water cylinder might fall through the ceiling due to years of leaking. Oh, and the side-line that, as more people in the village are rolled onto Universal Credit, there will be an increase in burglaries. 

This all started with the lack of communication after the brain haemorrhage that ‘luckily’ didn’t kill me. Pretty much everything I know about the surgery, and the side-effects came from the internet, the hospital told me nothing. Absolutely nothing. Oh, wait, I’m exaggerating, the OT who assessed me on the ward, 10 days after traumatic-invasive brain surgery told me “Most people can go back to work within about 8-12 weeks.”, that was it, no questions about what I did for a living, no information on the crippling fatigue, or the host of physical and neurological side-effects of major brain surgery. She gave me a booklet, ‘Memory Strategies for Patients and Carers.’, that was it. 

I went back to work, initially mornings-only, after six weeks, because I couldn’t stand to think of other, less competent colleagues screwing up my caseload. I also went back quickly to get away from the ex and his parents, with their suffocating way of caring. I didn’t want to be ‘cared for’ by the in-laws dropping in unannounced several times a week, and tutting because I’d been in the house all day, and not picked up the ever-increasing pile of socks the ex insisted on leaving at the side of the sofa. I went back to full-time hours as much to spite the ex as because I was working from home in the afternoons anyway. He would have been far happier with me staying part-time, and being dependent on him, spending all afternoon cooking a dinner that he’d look at, and say “I’m sorry, love, I can’t eat that, is there anything else?” There wasn’t any communication from the hospital, there’s a line in one report from the Consultant Neuro-surgeon. “Having tolerated mornings, she has returned to work full-time as a teacher.” I said I worked in a school, not that I was a teacher. 

I wasn’t coping. I was trying to ‘get better’, and it was exhausting me, trying to prove that I could do everything I did before. Being me, I thought that was my fault, that I was weak, and just not trying hard enough, the rehab clinic discharged me after two appointments, because I’d already gone back to work, and wasn’t amenable to the smiley-nurse’s suggestions that I colour code timetables of household chores for different family members. My fault there, because I knew that the ex would ‘in a minute’ any task I set him, and not-do it, and that the kid would take so long, and ask so many questions, that I’d be as well doing any task I’d set him myself. Should there have been a flag-of-concern, back to the hospital, or out to Occupational Health? Probably. Was there? No, because all of these various departments work in isolation.  

My fault. I mis-managed myself horrendously in that initial denial/anger phase, superficially ‘accepting’ that a lot of things were now much more difficult, but doing them anyway, to stop other people seeing me as vulnerable, or less-than. I’m very much less-than, I’m a shade of what I was, but I didn’t want to acknowledge the enfeeblement, so I tried to work around, or through it. My resilience and tenacity did me no favours, I projected-coping, and that’s what people saw. I burned myself out, trying not to ‘let’ other people do things ‘for’ me. 

My first assessment under the PIP disability benefit programme suggested that I ‘could’ complete all of the arbitrary descriptor-activities, some with ‘aids or assistance’. I contested, and then the communication went completely out of the window, because I had my second round of brain surgery, so didn’t appeal the Mandatory Reconsideration  decision that I was fully fit for work. The additional paperwork that I’ve seen now, from the decision-maker’s report details some of the nature of my job. Should there have been a flag-of-concern within DWP, about the potential risks of continuing in that line of work, full-time, with brain injuries? Absolutely. Was there? Guess. 

Communication-wise, the next mistake was mine. I’d kicked out the ex, so I could concentrate on supporting the kid through his A-levels, without having to expend emotional energy on a petulant man-baby. There had been some changes at work, and I threw myself back into proving-myself again, I was, at the age of 39, going to turn my life around. Didn’t quite go according to plan, and, when I returned to work after the second surgery, some people genuinely did ask me if the procedure had been cancelled, because I was full-time straight away. I knuckled down, and got on with things, not wanting to complain about the pain from the noise, or the lights, because nobody likes a moaner. I did ask my manager if there were any less-noisy offices available, he said not, so I stopped asking.   

(There’s a side-thread I’m not including, but, again, known-information was not shared between various parties, on multiple occasions.) 

The hospital didn’t even bother re-calling me after my 6-month post surgery brain scan, the ‘outcome’ is 3 lines of text on my GP’s computer screen. ‘Good occlusion, recall September 2018.’ My optician ‘wrote a letter’ for me to present to my GP, to ask for an urgent referral to neuro-ophthalmology. The GP shook his head, and said he’d send the ‘letter’ to general ophthalmology, then took all three copies of the triplicate-carbon form. (One of the ‘poor quality original’ stamps on the latest batch of PIP-paperwork is because I’d taken a photograph of the form on my phone, and printed it out at home, this PIP-process is costing me a fortune in printing information that already exists, because PIP is utterly divorced from the NHS,) I tried to send the photographed form to my neuro-consultant via email. The woman in Patient Liaison replied that she didn’t have access to his email address, and I blew up in anger at her, because that’s bullshit, even if I do have brain damage. (It’ll be firstname,lastname@hospitalabbreviationcode.nhs.uk I have brain injuries, I’m not a moron.) I emailed the form to his secretary, and found myself with an appointment at the city hospital, to have the same test the optician had already done, and the same test my GP was referring me to the town hospital for. (Nothing abnormal detected, because that’s not the test the optician had asked for, there’s some obscure funding reason why he can’t raise the referral himself, and it has to go through neuro, and I appear to be speaking Chinese, all the while, my eyes are becoming steadily less reliable.) 

Communication. ‘Workplace Well-being’, formerly ‘Occupational Health’, despite being part of the NHS, and despite me giving my informed, written consent for any-direction data-sharing, didn’t have access to my NHS patient files. (WHY?) I ended up photocopying the whole bundle at home again. WW requested a formal functional assessment of my cognitive abilities in October 2016. I still haven’t had it. I’ve had to chase it multiple times myself, and recently found out that my GP saying he’d make the re-referral I was asking for on 13/10/17 was delayed. He didn’t send it until 10/11/17, and then it was m chasing the surgery to fax a copy to neuro-psych, because the NHS computer systems are so outdated that they won’t send identifiable personal information via email.   

The bit of DWP that deals with PIP doesn’t communicate with the NHS, or the bit of DWP that deals with Universal Credit. (The bit of DWP that deals with PIP does, however, send letters to the tribunal panel, copied to the applicant, stating that the tribunal should not consider the case. Sneaky semantics there, DWP, some people will see that as “Don’t even bother.”, I’m not ‘some people.’) That’s going to be the next communication issue, articulating to an independent panel that some detached computer-monkey somewhere within DWP copy-pasting “You said you had difficulties with... I have decided that you can...” is in no way reflective of the difficulties I do have on a daily basis, and that the potential for the UC systems to compel me into unsuitable any/all employment places myself, or others at risk of harm, due to my disability. I have 25 pages of that ready to go, the ‘issue’, the ‘impact’ of that issue, and the ‘adaptations’ I have to make to work around it. Very clear, very coherent, and evidence-based, rather than the opinion-based statements DWP have pulled out of the atrocious nurse-report from my last ‘assessment.’

The PIP system is awful, it’s not in the least bit fit-for-purpose, the ‘assessment’ is heavily skewed towards physical activities, and there’s no pain-scoring involved. If I did say “That hurts.” every time an action caused me discomfort, I’d lose my voice, and, over a period of years of having other people either panic-flap, or roll their eyes when I did disclose discomfort, I just stopped mentioning it. (While the shrieky one blethered on for months about her lump, and being scared to go for her blood-test results without her Mum.) I can raise both arms above my head, it hurts my right shoulder. I can ‘stand on either leg’, but I feel incredibly unsteady doing so. I can read some of the letters on a chart a defector nurse is holding 2m away, with my glasses on, but it was physically uncomfortable to focus, because she’d decided to stand in the window, and the light was behind her. The way she recorded the results was appalling, it wouldn’t have been very hard for the ‘decision maker’ to cherry-pick the ‘can’ conclusions, and ignore the pile of medical evidence. 

Now, I’m waiting for a date for the tribunal, to communicate that the data held on me across various agencies and departments is not being shared appropriately, that I desperately need to work, because sitting at home being unproductive is a waste of me, but that I can’t commit to working full-time, due to my disability. I need the ‘buffer’ of the PIP payments because in-some-ways-brilliant as I am, I’ve been out of work for so long, I’m only likely to be considered for low-end, entry-level positions. The WW doctor’s report states that I ‘should be able to return to work, after counselling, and with a phased and supported re-integration.’ I’ve been having counselling for six months now, the general focus of the sessions is how unwell the PIP-process is making me. 

What the PIP and UC systems are doing to me is making me consider throwing myself into any sort of job that would pay my bills. Without the functional assessment, that’s exceptionally risky, because I’d effectively be declaring myself ‘fully fit’, and I know that I’m not. The ‘failure to disclose pre-existing’ isn’t the way I work, it’s dishonest, and ultimately presents a risk of harm. I can’t/won’t do that. Despite all of my careful juggling, very soon, my outgoings will be higher than my income, and I’ll be on the Helter-Skelter of bank charges for bounced payments. I’m spending more time ruminating on the PIP tribunal than I am on seeking employment, and I’m spending even more time wondering what else I can cut back on, so I can still feed the kid when he’s back with me for his Christmas break. 

Shouting into the void, I know, this is me practicing my case for PIP, and hoping that the way I communicate the massive holes in what should be a safety net comes across clearly. There’s the potential that the way I cross-reference and communicate will only make the panel see my hyper-functional side, and dismiss the case anyway, when I’m on-form, I AM phenomenal, I just can’t do that all of the time any more.    

[wbwest]

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West Week Ever: Pop Culture In Review - 6/23/17

  It’s gonna be a quick one this week, as I’ve got too much real life stuff going on. Plus, there was a lot of little news, but no big whammy.

Last Saturday I took in Awesome Con which, in its fifth year, was being held at the Washington Convention Center. Normally I’m all about con reports. You’ll see my cosplay pics, and hear about all the stuff I bought. Not so much this time around. I don’t know what it was, but it didn’t feel very Awesome this year. I hate cons that are filled to capacity (like NYCC), but I felt like this one could’ve been better attended. Sure, there were a lot of folks there, but I still bet they fell short of the numbers that had been expected. No cosplay really caught my eye. There were only, like, 7 comic vendors. The show really doesn’t seem to know if it’s a pop culture con, like a Wizard World show, or if it’s a comic-con for the DC area, rivaling Baltimore’s.

It wasn’t all bad, though. I got to hang out with my buds @KeithDavidsen and @ClassickMateria, plus I had a great conversation with 2/3 of the 3 Black Geeks Podcast. Oh, and I totally gushed over Christopher Hastings, who currently writes I Am Groot and The Unbelievable Gwenpool for Marvel. I’ve been a fan of his since his indie series, The Adventures of Dr. McNinja, and I’m a huge Gwenpool fan. I pretty much went just to meet him, and he was totally gracious and nice. Meanwhile, I was gonna confront Scott Snyder and get him to sign my Dark Days: The Forge book. And then ask him why he blocked me on Twitter. But the stars were not aligned, as his line was capped before I got there. I suppose it was for the best. So, while lacking in awesome, there’s still room for improvement, and I’m sure I’ll be right back there next year.

While a lot of folks are getting excited about it, I have some problems with the way Netflix’s The Defenders series is being marketed. Something seems off with the tone of everything. See that poster above? As I remarked on Twitter, it looks like a TV Guide ad for a show Fox canceled in 1994. I can hear the promo now: “The Defenders, followed by an all-new New York Undercover. Thursday, at 8/7 Central.” There’s nothing about it that *pops*, and it just looks so pedestrian. Are they a rag tag group of NYC street-level heroes, or is it a coming of age drama about 3 guys and a girl trying to make it in New York City? I still have 3 more seasons of Marvel Netflix shows to catch up on before I can even watch this, so maybe I’m not the target audience. It’s just all so formulaic now, though. “Hey, look – a hallway fight!”

We finally got a premiere date for the long-delayed Star Trek: Discovery, bowing September 24th at 8:30 on both CBS and CBS All Access. What’s with the 8:30 start time, though? I guess we’ll get some kind of half-assed, 30-minute Trek retrospective before the show. And, taking a page from cable shows, the season will be split in two, with the first 8 episodes airing in the fall, while the remaining 7 will air starting in January. I couldn’t be less excited for this show. So many damn hoops to jump through, so many broken promises regarding its premiere date. At this point, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if they requested a blood sample before allowing you to watch it. That’s how crazy this has become. What was once thought to become the most pirated series of all time, I’m now starting to think most of us aren’t even gonna bother.

I had no clue that Phil Lord and Chris Miller were the directors on the Han Solo film (how’d I miss that?), and I would’ve told anyone who’d listen that they were a terrible choice – which is why I’m not surprised that they were fired this week, citing “creative differences”. Sure, The Lego Movie was great. The Jump Street franchise was great. But I don’t see them fitting into the “Star Wars vision” that Kathleen Kennedy clearly has. They would’ve given us something great and entertaining, but I don’t know if it would’ve been a “Star Wars movie”. Then again, I’m not the biggest Star Wars fan, so what do I know. I’d like to think there’s room to do a lot of stuff in that franchise, but I just don’t see their style fitting into what’s already been established. And then Ron Howard was announced as their replacement. I really don’t know how I feel about this. I mean, gifted director, but this seems sort of out of his wheelhouse. Any of y’all have strong thoughts either way?

Meanwhile, somebody needs to make up their mind about whether these Spider-Man spinoffs are gonna be set in the MCU or not. We were basically told that only Spider-Man was crossing over, and even that’s been threatened as a possible one-time deal. But then Amy Pascal did a press junket earlier this week, where she danced around the matter, saying that the Spider-Man spinoffs would build upon the world that is being carefully crafted, leading some to believe they might actually be set in the MCU. That’s how some folks saw it. I just saw it as Pascal trying to keep her job. I guess time will tell. Meanwhile, Spider-Man Homecoming 2 is already being discussed (which I hope is called Spider-Man: Sadie Hawkins Dance), and there will reportedly be a cameo by another MCU character who’s not Iron Man. Keep it in your pants, boys. Let’s see how this one does first, OK?

Song of the Week

Yup, it’s a Taylor Swift song, but it’s NOT sung by Taylor. She gave this song to Little Big Town, who have ridden it to #1. It’s got her trademark juvenile lyrics, but I still think it’s beautiful. I kinda wish I didn’t know she wrote it, but I think that was part of the push that got it to #1. Anyway, here’s “Better Man”.

Things You Might Have Missed This Week

Shonda Rhimes had to fail eventually, which is why her summer Shakespeare series, Still Star-Crossed, has been moved to Saturday after 3 low-rated episodes. Stick a fork in that turkey!

Speaking of dead shows, CMT couldn’t make the numbers work to revive Last Man Standing, so the sitcom is officially dead

Dule Hill’s real-life fiancee, Ballers actress Jazmyn Simon, will play Gus’ love interest in the Psych reunion movie

Apparently Nickelodeon is prepping a one-hour reunion, called Rocko’s Modern Life: Static Cling. I didn’t have cable growing up, but I know this means something to some of you.

Virginia Madsen won’t be back for season 2 of Designated Survivor. I was kinda hoping she and Kiefer would bang, so now I have the sads…

Six cast members are out at Taken, amid a major shake-up prior to season 2. I guess you could say they didn’t have the right set of skills.

They’re teasing a Downton Abbey movie for 2018. I hope it’s called Downton Abbey: Matthew’s Revenge!

There are rumors that Damon Lindelof is in talks to do a Watchmen TV series for HBO. That network is really into dongs lately, so I guess this is a perfect fit.

Daniel Henney is shifting his Criminal Minds: Beyond Borders character over the main Criminal Minds series, following the former’s cancellation. Remember that when your CBS-watching grandpa asks you where he’s seen that “Oriental fella” before…

The CW is interested in a Supernatural spinoff called Wayward Sisters, which would star recurring guest star Kim Rhodes. I don’t watch Supernatural, but she was Zack & Cody’s hot mom, so I’m a supporter of giving her more work!

After a thorough investigation, Warner Bros found no evidence of misconduct on the set of Bachelor In Paradise, and production has resumed on the season. Now it’ll probably be the most-watched season of the show, but there’s no way they saw that coming, right? Right?

As a reward for being the #1 daytime drama for the past 28 (!) consecutive years, CBS has renewed The Young and the Restless for another three seasons

NBC is scrambling to do some damage control, as Megyn Kelly’s highly publicized interview with Sandy Hook truther Alex Jones was beaten by a rerun of America’s Funniest Home Videos. That’s right, it was beaten by a show that’s been rendered virtually obsolete since the proliferation of the Internet

Heroes is coming to Crackle on July 13th. You know, that free streaming network that nobody watches? So, if you’re still itching to save the cheerleader, there ya go.

The sequel to Jurassic World will be called Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom. Meh. That shit ought to be called Jurassic Galaxy. Take those dinos into space already!

Daniel Day-Lewis has quit acting, meaning we’ll never get to see him in the Fast and the Furious franchise like we’d always dreamed!

Fresh off his mistrial, Bill Cosby plans to give speaking engagements where he will instruct folks how to dodge sexual assault charges. I couldn’t make this shit up! “If you put the pudding pop in the Jello, make sure you’re not caught on any Kodak film!”

Transformers 5: Bad Touch had the lowest opening day box office for the franchise, with $15.7 million.

In the ultimate Fuck yo’ Father’s Day move, Beyonce’s dad announced to the world, via tweet, that her twins had arrived. I hear he was dragged away by wraiths soon afterward.

Adam West’s unaired episode of Powerless can now be seen on DC All Access, as well as Hulu.

No one had the West Week Ever this week. As Nina Simone sang, “It be’s that way sometimes”. I do have a correction from last week, though. Like I said up top, I’ve got some real world stuff going on and I wasn’t really thinking clearly. I inducted Adam West into the West Week Ever Hall of Fame, when my pal @zacshipley pointed out that a better honor was staring me right in the face: that honor should be called the West Life Ever. So, the post has since been corrected and, going forward, that is what will be bestowed upon those greats that we’ve lost along the way. Adam West had the West Life Ever.