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[run-aled]

RED VALLEY TAPES: SEASON 1 EPISODE 6‘Do You Want To Continue’

[transcript]

SCENE 1

THE LOUD JOLTING RACKET OF A HEAVY CAR BEING DRIVEN QUICKLY AND INEXPERTLY DOWN VERY BAD ROADS.

GORDON: Personal log! It's something like 2am and I'm driving George the farmer's massive Land Rover in the middle of nowhere - argh I've never driven one of these before...

AWFUL CRUNCHING OF GEARS.

GORDON: So I'm in this terrifying end of the world farmhouse with this terrifying end of the world farmer George and his delightful wife Betty and she gives me the keys after making lots of strange comments about me and Warren getting back to nature and that the bothy is a lovely place where men can be men and we can true to ourselves, and no one will disturb us, and when I get back the car is gone, Warren is gone, no note, no signal on our phones. I can only assume he's going to Red Valley, somehow, cos he has no idea where it is. I have no idea what is going on.

BRINGS CAR TO A STOP.

GORDON: Where am I. God I hate this.

CHECKS MAP. TAKES A TURN INTO A COUNTRY LANE.

GORDON: Oh God is this it? This is barely a path, what is this? I had to wake up George and Betty, I had no idea what to tell these people, so I told them we'd had a lover's tiff and begged them to let me borrow their car. Betty winked at me and gave me the key to this dinosaur car and as I'm leaving I can hear George from inside shout 'I wish I knew how to quit you!' Oh man where the hell is this place.

ABRUPT TAPE CUT.

GORDON IS NOW WALKING OUTSIDE. THERE IS A HIGH WIND AND HIS VOICE IS RAISED.

GORDON: Okay. I'm here. I found the Golden Bullet. She's fine. No one there. I left the Land Rover and now I'm walking down a path which had a couple of modern-ish signposts, this has to be it. It is so dark...it could be 10 feet in front of me...what am I doing. I've got my dictaphone in one hand and my phone torch in my other. This is so fucking stupid.

SILENCE AS HE WALKS FURTHER.

GORDON: Oh fuck, there he is. And...theres the base. Or is it the farmhouse. Shit shit shit. How could I not see it? Where's the mountain? Oh its so fucking dark. He's just staring at it. He's just staring at it with his back to me. Oh man oh man oh man. Aaaaah.

PAUSE.

GORDON (SHOUTS): Warren! Warren, you okay?

WARREN (DISTANT): I'm here, Gordon.

GORDON (SHOUTING): Yep, yep. Look, this is really freaking me out so could you please turn around, unless you haven't got a face or you've turned into a little Japanese girl or something-

WARREN: I have a face, Gordon. Can you lower your torch?

GORDON: Oh yeah. Sorry.

WARREN: Thanks.

GORDON APPROACHES WARREN.

GORDON: You took my car.

WARREN: I'm sorry. I don't know...I don't know what's happening.I just had to come here.

GORDON: How did you know how to get here?

WARREN: I don't know. Please don't be mad.

GORDON: Fine.

WARREN: Thanks.

GORDON: I had to pretend we were a couple to get George and Betty to lend me their car.

WARREN: Right.

GORDON: You can explain it when we get back.

WARREN: Fine.

THEY BOTH LOOK AT THE BASE IN SILENCE.

GORDON: So this is it.

WARREN: Yeah.

GORDON: Is the mountain there? I can't see anything, it's like the bottom of the ocean.

WARREN: It's right there. Turn your torch off and wait a minute, you'll see it.

GORDON: I'll take your word for it.

WARREN: Thought you'd be thrilled. Standing in the shadow of the mighty Ball Bag.

GORDON: Well there aren't any shadows because it's 3 in the morning, and I'm freezing my balls off.

WARREN: You said the air was amazing out here.

GORDON: Amazingly fucking cold yeah. So have you seen enough? Can we come back in the morning?

WARREN: No.

WARREN WALKS AWAY, TOWARDS THE BASE.

GORDON: Oh come on!

CUT.

SCENE 2

GORDON IS CATCHING UP TO WARREN, WHO IS STARING AT A DOOR INTO THE BASE.

GORDON: I lost you there, you have to slow down.

WARREN: Sorry. There's a door here.

GORDON: Right. Well shall we-

A CLUMSY BUT LOUD BANG AS WARREN KICKS THE DOOR.

WARREN: Ow!

GORDON: Why would you kick the door?!

WARREN: Well its locked isn't it.

GORDON: Have you tried it?

WARREN: No.

GORDON PULLS THE HANDLE. THE DOOR OPENS EASILY, IF OMINOUSLY.

GORDON: You see. It's open. Which is totally normal. A secret unmarked base in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night, and the door's just totally open.

WARREN: Excellent. Thanks.

GORDON: Warren do you think this is entirely the right thing to do? This just feels like a stupid dream where you make choices you would never make in real life. Nobody chooses to go in this door apart from those idiots from the Blair Witch Project.

WARREN: Is there a particular reason you're trying to stop me doing this?

GORDON: Yeah, I'm shitting myself and I want to go home.

WARREN: Do you have anything you want to tell me Gordon?

GORDON: What do you mean?

WARREN STRIDES INTO THE DARK DOORWAY.

GORDON: Warren! Stop being so bloody dramatic!

PAUSE.

GORDON: Stupid Blair Witch wanker.

CUT.

SCENE 3

A CORRIDOR. GORDON CLOSES THE DOOR. WARREN AND GORDON'S ECHOING FOOTSTEPS. A LIGHT SWITCH, THE FLICKER AND HUM OF STRIP LIGHTING COMING TO LIFE.

GORDON: Colder in here than it is outside.

WARREN: Smells like my old school. Musty, wooden desks.

GORDON: I don't think anyone's here. It looks like no one's been here in a long time.

WARREN FINDS A CUP. PICKS IT UP AND SNIFFS IT.

WARREN: Cold coffee. Still smells fresh.

GORDON: Or maybe they have.

WARREN IS STRIDING AWAY FROM GORDON, CREAKING DOORS OPEN, PEERING INTO OFFICES AND CUPBOARDS.

GORDON: Warren, what is it you expect to find here? What is going on?

WARREN: You tell me.

GORDON: What?

WARREN: You helped design this place right? You know it.

GORDON: The project was killed, we never finished it. And I wasn't on architecture, I was on the seed archiving system, which never happened.

WARREN: Really.

GORDON: Warren, what are you trying to say?

WARREN: How did I know how to get here tonight?

GORDON: What are you talking about?

WARREN: You were the only person who could've cancelled that prison visit, you were the only one who knew about it.

GORDON: You think I stopped us visiting your mate, or whoever, who I don't know anything about? Warren, you took my car and came here in the middle of the night -

WARREN: And yet you still found your way here.

GORDON: Fuck this. Give me my keys.

WARREN: No.

GORDON: Give me the–

A SCREECH OF FEEDBACK, THEN A HEAVILY MODULATED, DEEP, FORCED LAUGH THROUGH A TANNOY.

TANNOY: Ho ho ho ho. Ha ha ha ha.

SILENCE.

TANNOY: Come on. You're meant to say, 'I know that laugh.' And then the curtain rolls back and its Jabba the Hutt! Yahn chass Solo, chung Wookiee! I love this thing.

GORDON (CLOSE): Seriously can I have my keys back now?

TANNOY: Right, enough dicking about. Follow the corridor to the end to the fire exit, push the door then come downstairs. Please.

WARREN: Last chance mate. Anything you want to tell me?

GORDON: I'm telling you we need to turn around and drive as far away from this place as possible.

WARREN AGAIN TURNS AND WALKS AWAY.

GORDON: Warren. Please stop walking away like that.

WARREN KEEPS GOING.

GORDON: Please. This is too weird now, I don't like it!

WARREN REACHES THE FIRE EXIT. PUSHES THE DOOR WHICH OPENS WITH A HEAVY CLUNK, THAT ECHOES DOWN A STAIRWELL.

WARREN: I'm sick of this London Dungeons shit.

CUT.

SCENE 4

WARREN AND GORDON DESCEND A METAL STAIRCASE, THEIR STEPS ECHOING DOWN THE STAIRWELL AND DOWN AN UPCOMING CORRIDOR. THE FLOOR SIMILARLY IS METALLIC. DOWN HERE, THEIR IS A SOFT HUM OF ELECTRICITY, THE EFFICIENT FLOW OF SOPHISTICATED AIR VENTILATION, THE REPEATED BEEPING PATTERN OF DISTANT COMPUTERS. IF THE UPSTAIRS FELT LIKE A MUSTY SCHOOL CORRIDOR, THIS IS THE STARSHIP ENTERPRISE.

GORDON: This feels more like a seed vault.

WARREN: Shh.

THEY PACE ON IN SILENCE FOR A FEW MOMENTS. EVENTUALLY A DOOR OPENS NEAR WARREN.

CLIVE: Warren! You made it.

WARREN: Clive.

CLIVE: You don't seem surprised to see me.

WARREN: I guess...no. I suppose I'm not.

CLIVE: Hooray! Bit of a lousy welcome I know, we just weren't expecting you in the middle of the bloody night, that's all.

WARREN: Oh, sorry.

CLIVE: I mean, it was hard enough getting here ahead of you in the first place, but if you will indulge these flights of spontaneous fancy. But you're here, and you made it all by yourself.

GORDON: He's not by himself.

CLIVE: Whoa there! Hey! How long have you been standing there?

GORDON: I...we came together. Well, he came here. And I followed.

CLIVE: Well. I'm sure that was meant to be sweet and not creepy at all. Anyway, there's cake! Actually it's cheesecake. Peanut butter and chocolate, my wife made it. It's got those little American things on top, the peanut butter cups. Got a bit squished in the helicopter but it's still good, do you want some?

WARREN: No thanks.

CLIVE: Actually, what am I thinking? You should probably be nil by mouth from now anyway. It's the only thing keeping me awake really. So! If you found us on your own, it must all be clicking into place, hmm?

SILENCE.

CLIVE: Your vacant expression isn't filling me with much hope Warren.

WARREN: I've been here before.

CLIVE: Please tell you've got a bit more in place than that.

GORDON: Warren, why don't we just, let's go back to the car and-

CLIVE: Shut the fuck up and stay where you are you little dungeons and dragons little fucker, I told you, I told you to stay out of this and leave him alone and here you are. Now I have to find the considerable energy to murder you and make it look like an elaborate suicide and I haven't had nearly enough sleep or cheesecake to do that. It's the middle of the fucking night and I don't appreciate it Graham.

GORDON: Gordon.

CLIVE: Fuck off. Look I'm not 100% up to date here, I haven't been keeping up with the bugs for the last couple of days -

WARREN: Bugs?

CLIVE: The bugs. Your bugs. Your phone, your car, your house, your clothes, your bugs. Look at you, you're going full Rain Main.

CLIVE STRIDES TO A WALL AND PRESSES THE INTERCOM BUTTON. HIS VOICE IS MAGNIFIED THROUGH THE TANNOY.

CLIVE: Bryony! Bryony could you come up here please. I need your help and I've started on the cheesecake, it's delicious.

GORDON: Bryony? Bryony Halbech? She's here now?

CLIVE: She's the one with the keys, so yeah, she had to come too.

ANOTHER DOOR DOWN THE CORRIDOR OPENS. FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING ROUND A CORNER.

BRYONY: Clive, you can see how much there is to do, I asked you not to-

WARREN: Karen?

GORDON: What?

BRYONY: What's this?

CLIVE: I know you said it looked unappetising after I sat on it but I swear, it's so good, you have to try some. Oh, Warren's here.

WARREN: Karen, what are you doing here?

GORDON: Karen?

BRYONY: Clive what the hell were you th-

WARREN: Look at me.

BRYONY: We had a strategy. A sensitive approach. It was essential, why on earth would you abandon that pla-

WARREN: Karen!

BRYONY: Hi. Warren.

GORDON: This is Bryony Halbech?

CLIVE: Bryony, I got the impression he was going to be a bit more clued in to what was happening here. Look at him, he's going into standby mode right in front of you, I'm surprised a little red light hasn't started flashing on on his face. Amnesia really is the most tedious business.

BRYONY: Warren, listen to me. You're in the right place. You're supposed to be here.

CLIVE: Too much brainal fisting on your part I think.

GORDON: Warren, we need to get the fuck out of here right now.

CLIVE: I wasn't kidding man, I'll stab you in the fucking eye with this fork. Now that's a really elaborate suicide but I reckon I can do it.

BRYONY: Warren, look at me. Look at me now.

CLIVE SIGHS AND GOES BACK TO THE TANNOY.

CLIVE: Guys, help on Level 1 please.

GORDON: How many people are here?

CLIVE: Warren, you're the first man ever to have survived cryonic preservation. Congratulations. And tonight, you'll be the first man to go in twice.

BRYONY: Clive, we had a plan.

DOORS OPEN AND MULTIPLE HEAVY FOOTSTEPS HURRY DOWN THE CORRIDOR.

CLIVE: Thanks guys, if you could just take him downstairs for a bit, call us if his brain starts running out of his ears or whatever.

THE MEN TAKE WARREN AWAY DOWN THE CORRIDOR. WARREN IS SILENT AND DOES NOT STRUGGLE.

GORDON: Warren. Hey Warren, you don't have to go with them, Warren! Where are they taking him?

CLIVE: Now it looks like we won't be sleeping for a bit so I'm going to take some uppers and get in the mood, either of you guys want anything?

BRYONY: You're a clown, Schill.

CLIVE: Hey, we only do what we can live with, right? Ain't that right Warren? Ehhhhhhh–

CUT.

SCENE 5

BRYONY AND GORDON ENTER A SMALL CONTROL ROOM.

BRYONY: You can sit there.

GORDON: Right.

BRYONY: You can stop looking at me like that, no one's going to hurt you.

GORDON: Clive did literally just say he was going to kill me. Twice.

BRYONY: Clive's a difficult one. Rather thinks he's top bollock. The sharp end of the sword. He's actually the...what's the word. The shovel bit of the shovel. If it makes you feel better he threatens to kill people all the time. Very rarely follows through.

GORDON: Great.

THE SOUND OF STRIP LIGHTING COMING TO LIFE IN THE NEXT ROOM.

GORDON REACTS - HE CAN SEE THE ROOM THROUGH A LARGE WINDOW.

GORDON: What's going on?

BRYONY: Clive is going to begin the debrief process for Warren.I speak to Clive through a bug in his ear, and you get to watch through the glass.

GORDON: Is that the right thing to do? Putting Warren with him?

BRYONY: It's less than ideal but we're rather thin on the ground here and I've just been pretending to be his wife for half a year, which might compromise the process somewhat.

GORDON: This is so fucked up.

BRYONY: Quiet now. Okay Clive, you can start.

IN THE NEXT ROOM, A DOOR OPENS. CLIVE AND WARREN ENTER. THEIR CONVERSATION IS SLIGHTLY TINNY BUT VERY CLEAR, AMPLIFIED INTO THE CONTROL ROOM.

CLIVE: You can sit there.

WARRENS TAKES A SEAT AT ONE END OF THE SMALL ROOM. CLIVE SITS AT THE OTHER END, AN UNCOMFORTABLE DISTANCE APART.

CLIVE: I told you you were the next big thing.

WARREN SITS IN SILENCE.

CLIVE: Come on. Don't be modest. Do you know how many people have sat where you're sitting? Not a one. You're the only person that has ever survived the thawing process. The only person that has ever Continued. That's what I want to call it. 'Continue'. I want it on billboards. 'Do you want to continue?' Make it a bit more sci-fi, maybe spell it with a K or something. And you're the start of it all.

WARREN: I don't know what you're talking about, I don't remember anything like that...

CLIVE: Think of it as...you're just like Captain America! You have the magic DNA that worked with our product, which kept you alive while you were frozen. You just don't have the added benefits of being super strong, or in any way good looking or charming, or having anything else remotely special about you whatsoever. So Captain America, but shit. Captain Shit.

WARREN: I'd like to speak to my wife please.

CLIVE: She's not your wife. She's the lead of this operation. We couldn't let you back out in the world without a handler and it was her or me. And I think we're all glad it wasn't me. She's watching all this right now actually. Just through that mirror behind me.

WARREN: I'd like to speak to her please.

CLIVE: Nope.

WARREN: Could I speak to her.

CLIVE: No way.

WARREN: Karen. Karen!

CLIVE: Her name is Bryony. Why did you go home? To Gravesend? Of all the places in the world.

WARREN: You've been watching me.

CLIVE: All the time. All the time. Constant, boring, relentless watching, listening. Why did you go home?

WARREN: I felt like...

CLIVE: Like what?

WARREN: I really want to speak to my wife please.

CLIVE: Not your wife. Why didn't you tell Karen, who isn't your wife and isn't called Karen, that you were going all that way? Did you not want her to know?WARREN: Just wanted to go home.

CLIVE BLOWS AIR OUT OF HIS CHEEKS. HE STANDS, SLOWLY DRAGS HIS CHAIR ACROSS THE ROOM UNTIL HE'S UP CLOSE WITH WARREN.

GORDON: What's he doing.

BRYONY: He has a prepared approach, it's fine.

GORDON: Do you have to do this now? Look at him. You're blowing my mind, so God knows what you're doing to him.

BRYONY: I'm not asking for feedback, Mr. Porlock.

CLIVE: What gave you the idea of Overhead developing this product for use in mass incarceration? It was a bit of a leap from Sonic the Hedgehog, wasn't it?

WARREN: I don't know.

CLIVE: Are you being deliberately obtuse with me, Warren?

WARREN: I think it's reasonable that all this might be considered a lot to take in.

CLIVE: Yes, yes, it's been a day, hasn't it Warren? Would you like tea?

WARREN: I would actually love that, thank you.

CLIVE: What gave you the idea of Overhead developing this product for use in mass incarceration?

WARREN: I don't know...I'd been drinking...

CLIVE: Calm down George Best, you had 2 beers. Why did you ditch Porlock and come here on your own? How did you find us?

CLIVE CLAPS HIS HANDS.

CLIVE: Hey! Cuck Rogers!

GORDON: Is he actually going to give him some tea?

BRYONY: No.

GORDON: Shall I make some?

BRYONY: Sit down and be quiet.

CLIVE: Okay. You're going to start telling me what I'd like to know. Or I'll do nasty things. I'll tie Porlock to the back of his shitheap car, put a brick on the accelerator and let it off into the mountains until there's nothing left but a stump.

BRYONY: Nothing personal.

CLIVE: I'll slide one of those old mercury thermometers downhis dick hole and snap the glass?

BRYONY: Jesus. Clive, less of the bad cop, maybe?

CLIVE (CLOSE): You know the reason you haven't been able to get it up is down to us, right?

BRYONY: Clive.

CLIVE: It's the medication. It's not a side effect, one of the pills is literally just to kill your boner. Couldn't have you actually trying to shag your handler, could we. So we neutered you. Like a dog. We've got whole tapes of you crying about it. Crying, apologising, begging.

GORDON: What the fuck kind of interview is this?

BRYONY: Clive, that's enough.

CLIVE: You know, Bryony and I have iknown each other a long time. We were never together, I'm a married man, but I do know other guys in the company, who have, you know...with her. She is apparently amazing. Velvet twat.

GORDON: Whoa!

A PIERCING FEEDBACK SCREECHES INTO THE INTERROGATION ROOM. BRYONY IS NOW ON A TANNOY.

BRYONY: Clive! Shut the fuck up!

CLIVE: Oh come on Bryony! Is this guy anything like the one that went in?

BRYONY: That's enough. Let's break. And get him some fucking tea.

CLIVE: What is the point of being able to put someone into hypersleep if they have a personality transplant when we wake them up? What if they all come out like Forrest fucking Gu-

IN A SUDDEN COMMOTION, WARREN LEAVES HIS SEAT. THERE IS A LOUD, VIOLENT THUD AS TWO HEADS COLLIDE, AND THE SOUND OF CHAIRS FALLING OVER. WARREN AND CLIVE STRUGGLE TOGETHER, CLIVE YELPING AND CURSING IN PAIN.

BRYONY: For God's sake.

SHE HITS A BUTTON AND AN ALARM STARTS WAILING.

GORDON: Whoa. Ow! Jesus.

THE DOOR TO THE INTERROGATION ROOM OPENS AND THE ASSISTANTS ENTER. BRYONY USES THE TANNOY.

BRYONY: Just separate them. Take Warren for a lie down please.

CLIVE: Taze him for fuck's sake!

BRYONY: There's no need for that, just...there that's it. Grace, have you got him? Pamela if you could- good. Well done. Clive clean yourself up and we'll have a chat, shall we?

GORDON: This place is demented.

WARREN: Karen. Karen!

CLIVE: 'Karen, Karen!'

BRYONY: Oh shut up you craven little prick!

WITH A BUTTON PRESS THE INTERROGATION ROOM GOES SILENT-NO ALARMS, NO SCUFFLING, NO VOICES. BRYONY DROPS BACK DOWN INTO HER CHAIR. SHE TURNS TO GORDON, BRIGHTLY.

BRYONY: Well, what do you think of the place?

CUT.

SCENE 6

BRYONY RETURNS TO THE CONTROL BRINGING TEA FOR HERSELF AND GORDON.

BRYONY: No sugar I'm afraid.

GORDON: Thanks.

BRYONY: So. What are we going to do with you?

GORDON: If there's a choice I don't really need the thermometer going up my-

BRYONY: We got you straight out of university, didn't we?

GORDON: Um. Yes.

BRYONY: So. Thirteen years then. Shuffled from one windowless basement office to another, carrying out, it must be said, outstandingly unremarkable work.

GORDON: ...Right.

BRYONY: Consistent, dependable averageness across the board. Resoundingly three out of five.

GORDON: Thanks?

BRYONY: We call your type stillwaters. You don't rock the boat through underperformance, you never draw attention through any particular deeds of great merit. You never build lasting relationships with colleagues or superiors, and you seem best avoided thanks to your rangy eyes, sweaty pallor and thoroughly asymmetrical face. Such reliable mediocrity is undoubtedly why you were chosen to help design a fictitious seed vault here at Red Valley. Overhead do this a lot, smokescreen projects to secure investment and resources, camouflaging a different objective. And now you know all about ours.

GORDON: Are you going to kill me?

BRYONY: I don't want to kill anyone Gordon. We were wrong about you, weren't we? You're not a stillwater at all. All this time, you've been digging away like a sweaty little gumshoe detective, learning more about this facility than almost anyone alive. Your dedication to finding out what truly happens here borders on the obsessive. Frankly I think this reveals less of a desperate search for truth or justice, and more of a genuine passion for what we do here.

GORDON: I am trying to expose what you are doing here, playing with people's lives, meddling with things that...that you shouldn't be!

BRYONY: You can wheedle out as many mad scientist clichés as you like but I think we should both stop pretending. The deeper you dig the more fascinated you become. You're not outraged or disgusted. You're enthralled by our work. Of what it could mean.

GORDON: You've no idea...

BRYONY: I've heard every conversation you've had with Warren. You're not put off by the macabre, the gory, the violent, like he is. When you talk about it you sound...feverish.

GORDON IS SILENT.

BRYONY: I'm not saying you're a bad person Gordon. I'm not saying you want people to suffer. No one here wants anyone to suffer. Except Clive.

GORDON: So what are you saying?

BRYONY: As you can imagine it's incredibly hard to find and maintain staff for a project like this-

GORDON: Are you offering me a job?

BRYONY: I can't be here as much as I would like, Clive isn't here any more than I would want, and our handful of assistants are inconsistent and too regularly rotated. Red Valley is old, in constant need of upkeep. If it falls into genuine disrepair then it compromises the work, that's the truth of it.

GORDON: You want me to be the caretaker? Of your underground experimental cryonic laboratory?

BRYONY: In return, I give you access to everything. Every record, every file, every video, every tape. Not just my work. Red Valley has been used for many things, for many years, and I want it documented. Someone like Clive would happily burn everything as we go to keep his nose clean. I disagree. I have no shame in the work I do, and I think if you want to get full marks, you need to show your working. You're an archivist, Gordon. It is your singular vocation. Archive Red Valley for me.

GORDON LETS OUT A LONG BREATH.

BRYONY: There is another more altruistic aspect to the role. Warren is your friend, is he not? Your only friend, perhaps. He's going back into hypersleep tonight. It would be beneficial, particularly in light of the behaviour you just saw, if there was someone here who...had his back.

GORDON: Sounds like something his wife should do.

BRYONY IS A LITTLE EXASPERATED.

BRYONY: The choice, such as it is, is entirely yours Mr Porlock, but I'd advise you that the alternative would place you into the care of Clive Schill, which will almost certainly involve a blunt object and the sudden and permanent misplacing of your cognitive functions. A thermometer up the willy would be the least of your problems. Drink your tea, mull it over, take your time.

GORDON: Right.

A SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS.

BRYONY: Actually, forget that, decide now or you might be deadbefore your drink's cold.

CLIVE ENTERS THE ROOM, HOLDING HIS HEAD UP AND A TISSUE TO HIS NOSE.

CLIVE: Have you calmed down now?

BRYONY: You found a way to make putting my vagina on an official audio document even more horrible than that already sounds.

CLIVE: Firstly, nothing in this building is official, not even me, and secondly, you lost your righteous indignation privileges when you pretended to be his spouse for 9 months, so wind your neck in. Have you got another tissue, I think there’s a pint of blood on that one.

BRYONY: We had a carefully considered question and answer process crafted specifically to avoid exactly the kind of behaviours that might put Warren or anybody else at risk.

CLIVE: I was trying to establish who we are dealing with. The Warren Godby we brought into this programme and the one you've been house training all year. And it worked, didn't it? He's still a dangerous cretin.

BRYONY: Oh it worked perfectly Clive. Hey, did you bring another face with you, because most of yours has been sprayed down your shirt.

CLIVE: Bryony, this is good. He's the same guy underneath and we didn't need 40 years of clinical cross-examination to work it out.

BRYONY: Did you ever consider that it might not be the end of the world for a subject's mental health to actually improve after the treatment? Rather than openly encouraging him to headbutt you?

CLIVE: He didn't headbutt me. He fell into my face.

BRYONY: So he's a violent thug when it suits your argument and just unsteady on his feet when it damages your pride?

CLIVE FINALLY REALISES GORDON IS STILL IN THE ROOM.

CLIVE: Why are you still here?

GORDON: I - uh -

CLIVE: Fuck off Hufflepuff. Why is he still here?

BRYONY: Gordon was just deciding whether or not he wants to accept a posting here at Red Valley.

CLIVE: Jesus, you want all this taken seriously and this is the best hire you can make? Fantastic Twats and Where To Find Them?

BRYONY: Oh listen to another audiobook.

PAUSE.

BRYONY: Well?

GORDON: What did you mean by Cuck Rogers?

BRYONY: What?

CLIVE: Buck Rogers. He got sent into the future. With his little robot. Biddy biddy bid.

GORDON: But what is a cuck though?

CLIVE: I thought you were an internet nerd. You can’t even do that right.

CLIVE PULLS OUT HIS PHONE AND GOOGLES.

GORDON: I – well –

CLIVE: No no, I’ll look it up.

BRYONY: Is it terribly important?

CLIVE: Cuck. From cuckold. Weak or servile man, unmanly and inadequate, dominated by his wife.

GORDON: Oh right.

CLIVE: So you see how good an insult that actually was. Like the more I think about it the better it gets. And it just came to me like that.

GORDON: Wasn’t that good.

CLIVE: Only because you didn’t understand it.

GORDON: You’re the one who had to google it.

CLIVE: You know I’ve got that thermometer in my pocket, right?

BRYONY: Gordon. I know it's probably easy to see a good cop bad cop situation in front of you right now-

GORDON: Not really.

BRYONY: - but I'm afraid Clive and I are on the same page about this sort of thing. The choice is essentially come on board or he'll push you out of a helicopter. And I'll be holding the door open for him.

GORDON: Right. Well I need my stuff-

BRYONY: We boxed up your flat this afternoon. I can call them now and bring anything that's absolutely necessary.

GORDON: And I should tell...someone...

CLIVE: I'm sure your Game of Thrones sub-Reddit will get over the loss in time.

GORDON: You keep talking about Warren, before all this...like he was a different person.

CLIVE LAUGHS AND SPITS OUT BLOOD.

BRYONY: Like I said. You'll have access to everything, Gordon.

CUT.

SCENE 7

WARREN LIES IN A BED IN A MAKESHIFT HOSPITAL WARD ROOM, LARGE AND FULL OF BEDS, BARELY USED. AROUND HIM ARE THE BLEEPS OF MONITORS READING HIS VITAL SIGNS, AND PUMPS GIVING HIM MEDICATION. GORDON ENTERS TENTATIVELY.

GORDON: Warren?

WARREN: Oh hey! Clive didn't kill you and eat you.

GORDON: No not yet. Are you...what is all this, are you okay?

WARREN: So they set me up in this very comfy bed that looks older than me, and hooked me up to all this monitoring and stuff, they were very nice about it.

GORDON: You seem pretty upbeat.

WARREN: Well if I press this button here, I get morphine. So thats okay. I think they want to keep me calm because theres a chance I might be a violent criminal.

GORDON: Yeah.

WARREN: What did I do to Clive, my face was wet afterward.

GORDON: Oh you bust his nose. But don't feel bad, he's...well he's awful isn't he.

WARREN: Never headbutted anyone before. Or maybe I have, maybe I'm the king of headbutts. It really hurt though, there must be a technique to it.

GORDON: Probably yeah.

WARREN: So they're not letting you chip off home then.

GORDON: Uh, no. It's either work for them in perpetuity or a grisly murder.

WARREN: So you work for them now.

GORDON: We always worked for them. Besides its a lovely place to work. Wonderful team spirit.

PAUSE.

GORDON: How are you doing Warren?WARREN: Well. My recent life as I know it seems to have been entirely made up. My wife is actually Doctor Frankenstein and I'm the monster. And the guy in charge is a psychopath who places human life at a lower priority than cake.

GORDON: Mary Berry's Frankenstein.

WARREN BURSTS INTO LAUGHTER.

WARREN: That is good. That is a good pun. Mary Berry.

GORDON: She- uh, Dr Halbech, said you consented to be part of a cohort taken from a prison in Norfolk. Last year.

WARREN: Right.

GORDON: Do you think that was you? That Aubrey Wood was talking about. On that tape.

WARREN: I don't know. It made me want to come here, and I just knew the way. I don't know anything about Aubrey Wood that hasn't been on your tapes.

GORDON: You didn't make the final selection that ended up being Teddy Bear's Picnic. But eventually they came back for you, did more gene testing on you and some others. You were the only survivor of the treatment. Obviously. You were in successful hypersleep for a month.

WARREN: A month? This seems like a lot of hassle for a month.

GORDON: I think they were expecting you to be pretty much a vegetable when you came out, so when it seemed that you'd undergone nothing more than some personality tweaks and memory loss-

WARREN: You know, just minor stuff.

GORDON: Well, it is, considering you should've been dead, or at best a cabbage person. When you did better than they ever thought you would she, Halbech, wanted to study you as much as possible. It was her idea to put you back in the world and she stayed close enough to observe everything.

WARREN: And she didn't feel like she should be the one catching me up on all this crucial exposition.

GORDON: They're putting you back into hypersleep tonight. I don't know if they expect you to remember any of this when you come back out. Or if...

WARREN: Or if I'll even be the same person.

GORDON: Right.

WARREN: Or a parsnip.

GORDON: Well, ideally not.

WARREN: I think I need some more morphine.

GORDON: I wish I could help you, that I could take you out of here, I had to convince them to let me even talk to you, that I could-

WARREN: No, no, I'm sorry I brought you into this, you should never have been here tonight.

GORDON: Well I did follow you to be fair.

WARREN: Yeah that's true. So that is your fault really.

GORDON PULLS CLOSER.

GORDON: We could try. We could try and make a run for it.

WARREN: No, no. I want to do this.

GORDON: You do?

WARREN: I just found out that I'm not really who I thought I was, and that I was in prison for doing something presumably not great. I come from a long line of people who did some not great things. My father was a man who did...if it turns that I'm like...if I've done-

GORDON: It's probably just tax evasion. Or you didn't pay your TV licence or something, they're fierce on things like that these days

WARREN: Yeah.

GORDON: And hey, you've spent the last few weeks or months or however long feeling like you were going a bit crazy, right, like you said to me that night in the car you were crap at your job, that you shouldn't be doing it? Like imposter syndrome, right? Well we all have that. But you're literally right! You're not going crazy. You are an imposter. You're actually the star of a huge and wildly unethical science experiment!

WARREN: Wow you're right. I mean its really a sunny side up situation.

GORDON: AND. You're a month younger than you thought you were.

WARREN: Oh yeah.

GORDON: I mean. Your life expectancy is probably a fair bit shorter.

WARREN: Oh really?

GORDON: Oh yeah, your insides are probably...

GORDON DOES A RASPBERRY.

WARREN: Ah. Brilliant, thanks.

GORDON: Hey, who wants to live forever, right?

WARREN: Your new job isn't reassuring people about to go into hypersleep is it?

GORDON: Sorry.

WARREN: That's okay.

PAUSE.

GORDON: Did you know a warren is the name for a rabbits burrow?

WARREN: I did know that, yeah.

GORDON: Ah! But did you know Warren is also the name of Bucky O'Hare's home planet?

WARREN: Ha! Bucky O'Hare!

GORDON: You know, the cartoon. Captain Bucky O'Hare-

WARREN & GORDON: He goes where no ordinary rabbit would dare.

WARREN: He had a friend that was an armoured gorilla, what was he called? Berserker?

GORDON: No, he used to shout berserker when he got angry. 'Berserker!' But his name was Bruiser which in fairness is easy to confuse.

WARREN: I remember my mother recorded that for me off the tv while I was at school. She went through the opening credits pausing it every few seconds so she could write down all the words to the song at the start so when I got home we could sing it together.

GORDON: That was nice of her.

WARREN: That really happened didn't it.

GORDON: Yes. Yes, of course.

WARREN: You're still going to be around when they wake me up?

GORDON: Yeah. I'll be here.

THEY SIT IN SILENCE FOR A TIME, THE MONITORS BLEEPING QUIETLY IN THE BACKGROUND.

CUT.

EPILOGUE

A LONG ELECTRONIC NOISE UNLIKE ANYTHING WE'VE HEARD SO FAR. THEN, A ROOM. A SMOOTH VENTILATION IN THE BACKGROUND. SOME BLEEPS AND BLOOPS, AGAIN NOTHING WE'VE HEARD BEFORE.

AUBREY: Bit of a soft ending.

GORDON'S VOICE - BUT UNLIKE WHAT WE'VE HEARD BEFORE. IT'S FROM A SPEAKER, HE'S NOT PRESENT IN THE ROOM. BUT HIS TONE IS ALSO DIFFERENT. IT'S CALM, MEASURED AND FLAT.

GORDON: They sit in silence for about 3 minutes. Warren eventually does a small fart and Gordon realises he's fallen asleep. Then the assistants come in to start the rapid cooling process. It's a better ending this way.

AUBREY: You did have a flair for the melodramatic Gordon.

GORDON: He did.

AUBREY: Sorry. I can't quite get used to this. To...hearing his voice like this.

GORDON: I can change it back to the default

AUBREY: No no, it took long enough to get it this close. Just wish you were here.

GORDON: I am here.

AUBREY: Oh you know what I mean.

GORDON: Well this is the best we can do.

AUBREY: Yes it is.

AUBREY STANDS UP, MOVING HER CHAIR AWAY FROM HER DESK, AND BEGINS TO WALK. GORDON'S VOICE MOVES AS SHE DOES - IT WAS BY HER SIDE WHEN SHE WAS SAT DOWN, NOW AT VARIOUS DISTANCES, BY A WALL AS SHE APPROACHES IT, DOWN A STAIRCASE AS SHE DESCENDS IT.

AUBREY: Is everyone sorted upstairs?

GORDON: Yes. Hester just finished her round and is heading back to the house. Jacob is on 4 hourly observations but I can take them.

AUBREY: Could you try dialling it up a little, you haven't quite got his energy right.

GORDON: Well, yeah, I could talk a little more like this if you want, it just involves inserting around 30-50% more words than necessary into any given sentence and simulating breathlessness which admittedly is still not an easy thing for the program to do, it just feels counter-intuitive to me, does it feel counter-intuitive to you, you might feel this is the set up for you, just having sentences that never seem to end, if this what you like then I'm delighted, no delighted, more enthusiasm, on unexpected words, what do you think, do I just keep going, on and on and on, without actually saying anything, is this soothing to you because it seems like it would be stressful to me-

AUBREY: No no, Jesus. I take it back. He really was annoying.

GORDON: I think thats better for everyone isn't it.

TINNY RAINFALL NOISE STARTS COMING OUT OF THE SPEAKER.

GORDON: Would you like some Amazon rainfall sounds to calm you down?

AUBREY: No thanks Gordon.

GORDON: Okay.

THE SOUNDS STOP AS AN AMAZONIAN BIRD STARTS ITS ELABORATE MATING CALL. THEY HAVE REACHED THE BOTTOM OF THE STAIRCASE AND AUBREY NOW STRIDES ACROSS A METALLIC FLOOR.

AUBREY: This is the right thing to do, isn't it.

GORDON: It was your idea.AUBREY: Well I've had a lot of ideas Gordon. They all seem good at the time.

SHE STOPS. GORDON NOW SPEAKS FROM A CLOSEBY SPEAKER ON A WALL.

GORDON: You tell everyone that finds their way here that ultimately, all you can offer them is choice. Almost all of those people tell you that choice is all they ever wanted.

AUBREY: Almost everyone?

GORDON: Roughly 65% of guests at Red Valley have said something involving a selection of terms based around the root concept of choice. It's not almost everyone but I wanted to show support.

AUBREY: Thanks.

GORDON: If that is what you hope to offer, then there probably aren't many people who deserve to be given a choice more than him.

AUBREY: Okay, lets start.

SOME COMPUTERY NOISES.

GORDON: Everything is ready to execute, there's no need for you to be present after you give authorisation.

AUBREY IS PULLING UP A CHAIR, POURING HERSELF A DRINK FROM A THERMOS.

AUBREY: I know. It's just quieter down here.

NOW SOME HISSING, MECHANICAL NOISES FROM A NEARBY POWERFUL DEVICE.

GORDON: Thawing sequence initialising. 2200 hours. November 19, 2064. Mark. Godby, Warren. Mark. Authorisation?

AUBREY: Wood, Aubrey Jane.

THE SPEAKER SAYS HER WORDS BACK AT HER TO CONFIRM HER VOICE.

GORDON: Mark.

THE MECHANICAL NOISES PAUSE, A SUBTLE, THROBBING BEEPING.

GORDON: Do you want to continue?

END.

[yellowjellobean]

nada nessa terra descreve o ódio visceral que eu sinto cada vez que os gringos (e sudestinos tbm) matam e tratam a galera de bacurau como bichos selvagens e exóticos. mas também nada nessa terra descreve o prazer que é ver o final do filme como brasileira, me sinto vingada.

[chrriblossom]

PARTE DOIS DA THREAD SOBRE O DIDDY!!

Usher

Gente se vcs não sabem quem é o Usher ele simplesmente é o cara que canta "daddy's home", "yeah" e entre outras músicas que são sucesso até hoje.

Ontem, ele apagou TODAS as suas postagens no twitter sobre o diddy. Oque é estranho nessa história, é que os dois eram super amigos. Mas, será que era só amizade mesmo?

Bom gente, o Usher começou a carreira bemmm novinho, coisa de 13 anos. Até que o diddy descobriu e virou o empresário dele.

A partir dai a merda aconteceu. O diddy tinha um tal de "Flaver Camp" que traduzindo fica algo como "Acampamento do Sabor", que era tipo um lugar para treinar os artistas para cantar, dançar e etc (galera do kpop, isso é como se fosse um lugar para os traines) e o Usher agora mais velho disse que jamais deixaria os filhos dele frequentar aquele local. Vocês já devem imaginar as atrocidades que aquela criança de 13 anos viu nesse acampamento né?

O mais triste, é que o Usher disse em uma entrevista que cresceu sem pai ent ele provavelmente via o diddy como uma figura paterna, e essa relação de "pai e filho" era bem esquisita. Tem um video que o diddy diz que eles dormiam juntos e brigavam por cereal...??

Enfim, não vou me aprofundar muito sobre a história do Usher, quem quiser saber mais polêmicas dele eu vou recomendar de novo o canal "Naty e Isa" que elas contam sobre ele mais detalhadamente.

Ines Brasil

A gente pode até zuar com ela e tratar ela como meme, mas a diva é inteligente demais! Se eu não me engano, ela sabe falar alemão, francês e inglês.

Mas oque ela tem a ver com o diddy? Acontece que eu ouvi duas versões, a primeira é que ela namorava um alemão que  frequentava esses locais que os famosos iam, então ela acabava sabendo das coisas. E a segunda é que ela trabalhava em alguma boate que muitos famosos frequentavam. Mas o fato é que ela morava fora e sabia das fofocas muito antes da gente.

Nisso, ressuscitaram um vídeo de anos atrás dela falando da beyonce e do jay-z, na época acho que ngm levou muito a sério já que ela é vista como um meme, mas mal sabiam que a ines estava mais que certa. Confiram:

Vinícius junior

A uns meses atrás o jay-z virou o sócio majoritario que administram as carreiras dos jogadores de futebol vini jr e endrick.

Aqui um vídeo do vini jr abraçando ele no meio de um jogo:

Será que ele sabia dos podres do jay-z?

Mc Lan

Ultimamente tem circulado um corte de um podcast que o mc lan foi, e ele disse isso:

Gente por enquanto é isso!! Sim, é muitaaa coisa e o buraco deve ser bem mais em baixo, sei que tem teorias sobre os restaurantes do Kevin Hart terem sido fechados por canibalismo, a Alessandra ambrosio ainda segue o diddy no insta se não me engano, a Nicki Minaj ta tacando o pau no diddy lá no twitter, ent realmente é MUITA coisa.

Levem isso como lição e parem de idolatrar famosos. Nós não sabemos quem eles são de verdade, a indústria é podre, hollywood é nojenta e isso não é de hoje.

Enfim, eu trouxe pra vcs os principais casos, espero que tenham curtido!

Gente eu esqueci de colocar uma teoria sobre a música "She Knows" que é essa que está tocando na edit.

Eu vi 2 teorias sobre:

1- Essa música foi feita para a mariah carey por ela supostamente saber tudo isso pq era esposa do ceo da sony (que provavelmente ta envolvido na morte do michael jackson)

2- Essa música é uma indireta para o jay-z e a beyonce, pq o sobrenome do jay-z é "Shawn" que se parece com "She", e o da Beyonce é "Knowles" que se parece com "Knows", ou seja, she knows!

[gooolabatooo]

Hey yall! So Far Down Queer Street Volume 4 is out! The journal made by @jeremys-come-to-bed-eyes aka Inspector(ess) is totally worth a read.

This volume contains topics about The Great Ace Attorney's iconic Herlock Sholmes, and not one but TWO regarding autistic representation and how well the podcast Sherlock & Co. handled it but also the backlash autistic Holmes gets.

This volume also has a book review on "The Adventures of the Second Mrs. Watson" which stars an intelligent woman along with Sherlock Holmes try to rescue Dr. Watson.

I also made an illustration concerning (again) not one but TWOOOO Watsons from the Granada series.

And last but not least, a 2 page spread of sketches on how Lucy G. Turpin made the cover art.

Available to read here:

https://downqueerstreet.com/issues/#issue4

[the-thorster]

Analysing the abbreviation "ESC" further.

Two weeks ago I asked both Germans and Non-Germans if they call Eurovision "ESC"

The answer was divided: of the 'ESC'-users, about half were Germans and half weren't. About 40% of Non-Germans who voted didn't know or use the term, whether online or irl. Curiously, there was almost no German (1.2%) that didn't use the abbreviation at all.

However, in my first poll I failed to:

a) make a difference between Germans and people from German-speaking countries (like Austria and Switzerland for example). b) specify if the usage is online/on tumblr or irl. c) account for people from countries where the event usually isn't called "Eurovision Song Contest" (Songfestival, (Euro)viisut, Grand Prix, Eurovisie, etc)

So this time I tried to specify better. There's also further questions you can answer in the tags:

if you use the 'ESC' abbreviation irl and you’re not german or german-speaking, do you pronounce the letters in your native language or in english (ee-ess-cee)?

non german speakers: have you heard someone say ESC irl in a non tumblr/social media context (other (classic) media, in podcasts, interviews, or conversations you had irl …)?

THANKS FOR VOTING!!!

[multiplasidentidades]

Boyceta

Boyceta é uma identidade transmasculina.

Pessoas transmasculinas são aquelas que foram designadas mulheres ao nascer, mas cujas identidades possuem alguma relação com ser homem e/ou com masculinidade. Boyceta é parte dessa ampla categoria, mas com características específicas que a distingue.

Uma das características mais notáveis é a aceitação e ressignificação de características sexuais congênitas. Ao contrário de algumas narrativas transmasculinas que buscam a remoção ou alteração de características sexuais consideradas femininas, boycetas escolhem por reconhecer e subverter essas características, transformando esses aspectos corporais como parte de sua masculinidade ou transmasculinidade. Em resumo, aceitam suas bucetas como masculinas; de homens.

No contexto brasileiro, a identidade boyceta tem uma importância cultural e social significativa. Ela oferece uma alternativa às narrativas cisnormativas sobre sexo/gênero, promovendo uma perspectiva mais inclusiva e diversificada da experiência humana. Ao ressignificar características sexuais e desafiar normas estabelecidas, a identidade boyceta abre espaço para uma maior aceitação e compreensão das múltiplas formas de existir.

Como todas as identidades que desafiam o status quo, a identidade boyceta enfrenta uma série de desafios. Ataques e preconceito são realidades frequentes. O rapper Jupi77er concedeu uma entrevista ao podcast "Entre Amigues", e uma das várias pautas discutidas por ele foi sobre sua identidade de gênero em que ele conta sobre ser boyceta. Ao falar sobre sua identidade de gênero como boyceta, ele virou alvo de discursos de ódio e viu seu rosto estampado em perfis de representantes da extrema direita.

O termo boyceta teria surgido oficialmente em 2020, mas veio de processos mais antigos de autorreconhecimento. A autoria da concepção da identidade de gênero é dada a Roberto Chaska Inácio, um boyceta indígena e PCD ligado à cena rap paulistana — o nascimento do termo, inclusive, acontece na Batalha Dominação, um evento protagonizado por pessoas cisdissidentes, que ocorre no centro da capital paulista.

A bandeira mais popular da identidade boyceta no contexto brasileiro foi criada em 17 de março de 2024 por Key Zimmer. Os significados para as cores da bandeira são azul para representar a transmasculinidade, sendo a transição do azul brilhante para azul claro a conexão entre gênero e corpo físico, destacando a interação entre esses dois aspectos. O rosa simboliza as características; corpo de cada pessoa transmasculina e boyceta, reconhecendo a diversidade e a individualidade dentro dessa identidade. O roxo representa não-binariedade, indicando que a identidade boyceta está além do binário de gênero ocidental.

A flor de Clitória (de "clitóris") é utilizada como símbolo na bandeira, remetendo ao natural, belo. Como também por conta da associação das flores desta videira com a anatomia de uma vulva. Outro símbolo, que é levemente diferente do símbolo masculino tradicional, evidencia a unicidade e o "arco de possibilidades" que a identidade representa. A escolha da flor Clitória enfatiza a aceitação e subversão das características sexuais congênitas, um dos pilares dessa identidade.

[nonogalego]

Was Noel Gallagher unfaithful?

Segundo esse relato no podcast brasileiro Barbacast (tendo esse trecho publicado no canal do podcast no Tiktok) Noel Gallagher teria ido a um bordel em Copacabana no Rio de Janeiro em 2012 (quando estava no Brasil em turnê com os High Flying Birds) e teria beijado uma prostituta em público (e segundo o relato, era uma mulher muito feia). O homem afirma que tem fotos e vídeos de Noel e essa outra mulher, mas não vendeu a história para o The Sun para poupar Noel...

Essa história do bordel eu já conhecia, mas não sabia desse suposto detalhe! Se for verdade, Noel estava apenas 1 ano casado com Sara, então Noel foi infiel?

Mas o mais intrigante nessa história é: o quão crível é essa história de um cara ter fotos e vídeos de Noel Gallagher com prostitutas no Rio de Janeiro até hoje e nunca ter vendido? Excesso de camaradagem masculina ou simplesmente uma mentira?

Só acredito se o Barbacast publicar essas fotos e vídeos!

[sgiandubh]

Demorei um pouco para encontrar todos os links, mas talvez ajude a contextualizar aquele período de 2022 em que Sam e Cait estavam oficialmente nos US. Fica a seu critério publicar ou não, claro.

Por favor olhe a resposta de Steven Cree a esse tt tão inofensivo. Não é nada, mas olhando para trás…

https://twitter.com/SamHeughan/status/1499525792451432451?s=20&t=KH9_8JE1xbPsurz81mfr8Q

Mais adiante houve um podcast com uma moça dizendo que foi abordada por Sam no Raya, e que desistiu porque foi um convite pra pap walk e jantar, menos o jantar.

Aqui está o link:

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/deux-u/id1604255499?i=1000562467891

Foi ao ar dois ou três meses após o vídeo de Gareth mas, para mim, se encaixa no mesmo momento da narrativa. A moça conta algo que aconteceu no passado recente.

Marple comentou sobre o assunto, em maio de 2022. Ela própria admite que Sam estava sistematicamente desmarcando encontros e entende que o pap walk com Monika Clarke foi encenado.

Concordo com você, não acredito que seja Sam nessas fotos.

Mas um outro detalhe me chama a atenção: não é engraçado que o sempre atraído por loiras jovens e pneumáticas estivesse tão interessado por morenas altas com grandes seios naquela época?

Se eu fosse Tony teria ficado bastante incomodado.

Dear (returning) Damage Control Anon,

Obrigada por este longo comentário que irei traduzir imediatamente, antes de responder. E desculpe pelo feedback tardio.

You write:

'It took me some time to find all the links, but maybe it would be helpful and bring some background context for that period in 2022, when Sam and Cait were both officially in the US. Posting is totally up to you, of course.

Look at Steven Cree's answer to that innocuous tweet. It's nothing, but looking back at it... https://twitter.com/SamHeughan/status/1499525792451432451?s=20&t=KH9_8JE1xbPsurz81mfr8Q

Later on, there was a podcast with a girl saying that she was approached by Sam on Raya, and that she backed out because it was an invitation to a pap walk and dinner, minus the dinner.

Here is the link: ​https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/deux-u/id1604255499?i=1000562467891

It aired two or three months after Gareth's video but, in my opinion, it fits into the same moment in the narrative. The girl is talking about something that happened in the recent past.

Marple commented on the matter in May 2022. She herself admits that Sam was systematically canceling dates and suggests that the pap walk with Monika Clarke was staged.

I agree with you, I don't believe it's Sam in these photos.

But another detail catches my attention: isn't it funny that someone always attracted to young, pneumatic blondes was so interested in tall brunettes with big breasts, at that time?

If I were Tony I would have been quite uncomfortable.'

Ok, let's develop a bit, here.

Looking back at that March 2022 tweet, Cree's comment reads like this:

That answer is a cheeky allusion at Dua Lipa's hit 'One kiss', and younger (or better informed) fans immediately cued in with the rest of the lyrics ('possibilities' comes to mind). To me, it's just the usual banter between these two, bearing in mind that Cree, the clown, knows a fair share of SC secrets. C was not amused by Dua being around, that we know for sure: #behave and that death stare immediately made me snort.

Podcast Girl is Monica Aksamit, the (in)famous fencer of the Fitness Harem. I resolutely refuse to listen one more time to that crap, because one of my New Year Resolutions is to not give undue space anymore to that particular brand of the shitshow. It is very clear that was a botched attempt to consolidate The Golden Dirk mystique, exclusively aimed at the Onlies. In her case, the encounter of demand and offer simply did not happen and the deal fell through. And I have to say I am not interested at all in whatever Marple has to say about it, simply because that woman has zero credibility in my book: she is just a pathetic troll, with no sense of humor and a penchant for verbal violence, on par with her lying abilities. I am not ready to forget her attempts at ridiculing me and I hope you will understand my position.

As for big breasted brunettes, I won't comment further. Aksamit did not, however, strike me as particularly well endowed in that department, to be honest.

Finally... Tony, who? Forget it, Anon, he is not into girls.

Thank you for the effort to put two and two together. I wish you all the best for 2024!

[Edit]: I am told the Raya girl is not the washboard breasted Aksamit, but a certain Paige Woolen. Who is well endowed in that department and probably also a p0rn whatever... I mean, what's in a name...?

Ok. Over and out. I will just jump in my car and pray for a smooth ride on the highway.

[sspace-cadett]

im actually so done with this fucking podcast i cant take it anymore i am clawing at anything and everything in sight slash ess are ess im going to jump in front of a freight train because that would be less impactful than whatever the fuck theyre scheming in the rusty quill headquarters

[projeto-potiguara]

Introdução ao projeto :

Olá para você que não me conhece me chamo Sara e seja muito bem vindo por aqui . Bom eu criei esse blog porque está tendo um projeto na minha escola chamado Selibi que todo ano homenageia escritores e autores brasileiros e a escolhida desse ano foi a escritora indígena Eliane Potiguara.

Na Selibi desse ano tivemos a opção de estar fazendo poemas, noticias , reportagens, podcast, videocast e muito mais envolvendo a vida e as obras da escritora e no meu caso escolhi fazer um blog aqui no tumblr mesmo até porque já mexo por aqui faz bastante tempo .

Como estou fazendo um projeto de escola eu não tenho o intuito de ganhar curtidas e seguidores mais sim compartilhar o meu conhecimento .

[momo-de-avis]

desculpa continuar o assunto mas acho que todos concordamos com o desabafo de que uma das razões porque há tanto revisionismo histórico ignorante e saudosismo cego e interpretações prejudiciais da história em portugal é porque só se dá tempo de antena a gajos tipo nuno palma e josé gomes ferreira e depois aos marques mendes desta vida etc etc. esse tipo de economistas/tudólogos. as pessoas veem um gajo de fato que é bom a falar na tv e ficam tipo bebés com molhos de chaves e não se informam como deve ser (também são essas as vias de informação mais acessíveis...) e depois temos as "polémicas" que temos

Lembro-me sempre do meu prof de pintura portuguesa do século xv e xvi ficar zangadíssimo quando o marcelo recomendou um livro dos painéis de sao vincente (mais um) quando ao jornal da noite dizer as pessoas pra ler (mas nunca lia nada daquela merda). nao me lembro qual era o livro mas era uma merda e ele tava passadissimo pq os paineis por exemplo na arte é obra que já houve gajos que SE MATARAM por causa daquilo ze por amor de deus

ha livros académicos e há livros que nao sao nada académicos de leitura facil feita mesmo pro Zé povo

Vao começar ouvindo o podcast do Paulo M. Dias, Falando de História. Ele já publicou livros e tudo. Andei com o paulo na faculdade, nao só conheço-o a ele como conheço alguns profes, a fcsh tem um EXCELENTE departamento de história e o paulo é excelente historiador. É um ótimo sitio pra começar até porque ele adora desmistificar mta coisa da historia

[livrosencaracolados]

"Um Ano Inesquecível"

Sɪɴᴏᴘsᴇ Oғɪᴄɪᴀʟ: A cada estação do ano corresponde uma história típica do quotidiano de qualquer adolescente: as vivências, as emoções, os problemas, as dúvidas, os amores, as desilusões… momentos inesquecíveis e surpreendentes que deixam suaves memórias para mais tarde recordar. Este é um livro sobre esses instantes: uma fascinante viagem de inverno e uma paixão inesperada (Paula Pimenta), um outono decisivo (Babi Dewet), uma paixão que floresce com a primavera (Bruna Vieira) e um amor ardente de verão (Thalita Rebouças). Quatro histórias escritas a quatro mãos sobre jovens que experimentam vivências e sentimentos tão intensos que dificilmente irão esquecer.

Aᴜᴛᴏʀᴀs: Paula Pimenta, Babi Dewet, Bruna Vieira e Thalita Rebouças.

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ALERTA SPOILERS!

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O Mᴇᴜ Rᴇsᴜᴍᴏ: Em "Enquanto a neve cair", uma Mabel apaixonada descobre que o alvo dos seus afetos acabou de ficar solteiro e, esperançosa no que pode vir a acontecer entre os dois, engendra um plano para partilharem uma tenda na dormida que vão fazer em casa dos amigos. Ora, quando os pais decidem surpreendê-la com uma viagem à neve de última hora, todas as suas intenções para a última semana de férias caem por terra. Para a Mabel, o cenário idílico das montanhas brancas do Vale Nevado mais parece um pesadelo, algo que ela não deixa de dizer aos pais, ganhando assim o "prémio" de não puder tocar no telemóvel a viagem inteira. Quando o seu avião finalmente aterra no Chile, uma Mabel muito contrariada apercebe-se de que, afinal, não sabe nada sobre esqui...e que o Igor não é quem ela pensava que era. Felizmente para ela, ambas a sua falta de equilíbrio e o seu coração partido têm uma solução, e é entre as pistas, num lindo instrutor de esqui, que ela a vai encontrar.

Os pais da Ana Júlia têm sonhos grandes para ela, expectativas claras para o seu futuro, e sendo que ela própria não se consegue lembrar de outro rumo a seguir, resigna-se a ser advogada. Com a ideia de dar à filha a vantagem da experiência, o pai da Ana consegue que um amigo advogado a aceite como estagiária, e é desta forma que a rapariga acaba por passar todas as tardes do seu último ano de secundário numa firma. A vida da Ana Júlia torna-se assim banal e repetitiva, pelo menos até, no seu caminho rotineiro para a firma, se passar a cruzar constantemente com um músico de rua carismático que lhe quer atrair a atenção. Ela não liga nada à música, o facto de o seu nome vir de uma canção de Los Hermanos só piora esse sentimento, mas quando João Paulo, chamado assim em honra dos Beatles, se infiltra no seu quotidiano e lhe dá um gosto da beleza das melodias, a Ana abre mão do cinismo e dos podcasts a favor da alegria e do ritmo. Viciada nas novas sensações que o rapaz a fez sentir, a Ana Júlia faz-lhe um pedido, consciente de que o seu tempo juntos está a chegar ao fim: para a ajudar a formar memórias que valham a pena recordar quando ela se entregar ao Direito. Em "O som dos sentimentos", uma rapariga presa à seriedade e à lógica encontra uma futura estrela musical cheia de vida e de amor para dar, e experiencia a magia do outono como nunca antes.

"A matemática das flores" acompanha Jasmine, uma miúda fora da caixa com sonhos reprimidos por pais protetores, que se arrisca a não seguir para a universidade por falhar a matemática. Ela odeia a disciplina com tudo em si, e o professor ser quem é só piora as coisas, mas a ideia de ficar para trás enquanto todos os seus amigos avançam na vida é muito mais assustadora do que um par de números. Mais por iniciativa da mãe do que por sua, a Jasmine aceita ter aulas de apoio com o horrível professor Carvalho todas as tardes depois da escola, para recuperar no que está para trás, mas quando o rapaz enigmático que viu no metro inesperadamente se torna no seu tutor, as equações deixam de lhe provocar tantas dores de cabeça. Para não reprovar, a rapariga tem que ter uma nota quase perfeita no exame, como compensação, mas os perfumes da primavera não lhe vão facilitar a vida, e o brotar de uma paixão pelo David pode custar-lhe o futuro.

O primeiro amor da Cacá trocou-a por um cavalo, a Inha foi humilhada e traída pelo namorado e a Tati...bem, a Tati nasceu com o nome mais estranho do mundo, isso já é castigo suficiente. Para ultrapassar as suas dores, o trio inseparável decide aproveitar bem o verão, bronzear até não dar mais e, por uma vez, afastar-se do drama (na verdade, só a Inha é que quer isso, a Cacá tem todos os príncipes europeus solteiros na mira e a Tati arrancaria o próprio pé por um minuto de fama). Os dias pacatos ao sol das amigas são interrompidos quando sai a notícia de que o Wylsinho, irmão da Tati e futebolista medíocre, está a namorar com a funkeira mais badalada do momento, Keillinha Kero-Kero. Daí em diante as raparigas tornam-se famosas por associação, subcelebridades, e na altura do Carnaval, juntam-se à Kero-Kero no camarote privado com a vista mais fantástica dos desfiles. É entre canções, bailados e festa que a Cacá encontra um verdadeiro príncipe, herdeiro do grande império da paçoca, que a Tati finalmente sente o sabor da fama e que a Inha dá de caras com um galã de olhos cor de quivi, que a faz esquecer o nome do terrível ex. Em "Amor de Carnaval", as melhores amigas vão passar por tantas alegrias como tristezas, mas fá-lo-ão juntas.

Cʀɪᴛᴇ́ʀɪᴏs ᴅᴇ Cʟᴀssɪғɪᴄᴀᴄ̧ᴀ̃ᴏ:

Qᴜᴀʟɪᴅᴀᴅᴇ ᴅᴀ Pʀᴏsᴀ: Bastante básica, honestamente. Não há grande coisa a dizer da escrita das partes do inverno e do outono, a do verão é bastante engraçada mas repete-se demasiado e a da primavera...tirou-me um pouco do sério. Ei de me expandir mais à frente mas, resumidamente, na primavera é-nos dito tudo, timtim por timtim, ao ponto de a autora nunca se preocupar em desenvolver os seus personagens porque pode simplesmente dizer que o fez, em vez de o mostrar. Para além disso, o diálogo não é nada natural.

Hɪsᴛᴏ́ʀɪᴀ: A nível de enredo, tenho de destacar algumas coisas, como o facto de a conclusão de "O som dos sentimentos" estar mais preocupada em satisfazer os desejos dos leitores do que em fazer sentido. O conto foi ótimo, encantador e o meu favorito no livro, mas teria sido muito mais interessante se se alicerçado mais na ideia de as pessoas entrarem na nossa vida por "uma razão, uma estação ou uma vida inteira", e tivesse aplicado a segunda instância ao João Paulo, em vez de nos atirar com um final feliz convencional que tira poder à narrativa. Como já mencionei, "A matemática das flores" é um trabalho preguiçoso, estando cheio de drama pouco credível, uma incapacidade de puxar a história para a frente de maneira tangível e não permitindo retirar praticamente nada da sua leitura, nem um momento agradável. Os maiores problemas da Jasmine são inteiramente provocados por ela, aliás, o conflito principal era completamente previsível e evitável se ela e o David tivessem parado para pensar, mas preferem não o fazer e depois agir como se o mundo fosse acabar amanhã (quase dá vontade de concordar com a bully). É tudo genuinamente mal pensado, e isso está evidente. Já a nível do "Amor de Carnaval", o enredo é um desperdício de potencial. Ele começa extremamente divertido, de partir a rir, por parecer uma sátira do formato geral das comédias românticas, e para aí até meio do capítulo, isso é muito bem conseguido. Infelizmente, no momento em que o Guima decide dar uma de Ross Geller, o efeito satírico vai pelo cano abaixo e a história torna-se numa comédia romântica a sério, algo visto pela forma como a narradora se irrita com a Inha por esta não se querer atirar para os braços de um rapaz questionável. Não digo nada sobre "Enquanto a neve cair" porque a Paula Pimenta, apesar dos seus defeitos, soube dar ao seu capítulo pernas para andar.

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀɢᴇɴs: Tanto a Mabel como a Ana Júlia são protagonistas bastantes sólidas. Os seus defeitos estão à flor da pele e é claro desde o início o que é que está a impedir o crescimento de cada uma delas. Tendo em consideração o facto de as suas respetivas estações não serem muito longas (em páginas), as autoras fizeram um ótimo trabalho no desenvolvimento das suas heroínas. Paula Pimenta usa uma experiência de quase morte como catalisadora da evolução da Mabel, dando à rapariga a hipótese de provar que a sua atitude arrogante é apenas um escudo e que, na verdade, ela é apenas como qualquer outra miúda de 14 anos: faz-se de crescida para esconder o facto de ser influenciável e insegura. É impossível não ter compaixão e ela floresce em termos de confiança e bondade. A Ana Júlia, por outro lado, é pessimista e vive com uma nuvem negra em cima da sua cabeça, não entendendo a leveza das pessoas da sua idade e usando, por isso, o julgamento para se defender. Ela sabe que tem uma inteligência superior mas sente-se perdida, então faz tudo o que os pais mandam para não ter de lidar com a incerteza que a atormenta. É a influência de um certo músico, que aparece na sua vida tão subitamente como um meteoro, que lhe abre o olhar para o valor das pequenas coisas e a faz querer viver a sério, o que também a leva a apreciar mais as pessoas à sua volta. No final da sua parte, ela é uma pessoa diferente, mais decidida e com rumo, e é um prazer estar lá para ver. Agora...a Jasmine dá-me cabo do juízo. Já falei um pouco sobre ela mas é o epítome do clichê de uma miúda de 17 anos: é imatura, rude, coloca todos os que conhece em caixinhas (imaginem não se puder atirar um adjetivo genérico para a cara de alguém que só se viu uma vez, eu não sei se consigo), cria filmes com tudo, inventa que os pais não lhe dão liberdade que chegue quando nem sequer é responsável...podia continuar mas acho que me dei a entender. Dá a sensação de que a escritora queria criar alguém com que o leitor se pudesse identificar, mas as tentativas são tão forçadas que fazem o oposto. Uma das coisas que mais me irrita é a questão de ela não ter ideia do que vai seguir na universidade, um dos seus problemas principais, ser resolvida com um estalar de dedos, do nada, quando a autora se lembra de nos dizer que, afinal, a Jasmine sempre soube o que queria e até já andou a fazer por isso, mas que, aparentemente, decidiu mentir ao leitor logo nas primeiras páginas sobre isso. Não tem nexo nenhum. Ela não amadurece realmente, todas as suas supostas consequências acabam por se revelar prémios e os outros personagens só existem para a fazer parecer melhor pessoa, alvo de pena ou para realizar os seus desejos. É desconcertante a habilidade da autora de criar uma peste com tão pouco tempo de antena. Finalmente, o trio maravilha do verão é um máximo e dá vontade de abraçar, isto é, até duas das amigas se juntarem à narradora e pressionarem a Inha ao limite para ela perdoar um idiota devido a uma tecnicalidade, porque ela nunca encontrará alguém como ele outra vez (onde é que já ouvi esta? ah sim, em todas as comédias românticas onde há uma relação tóxica). A Flávia é a única que mostra algum amor próprio e pensamento coerente, e dá uma pena terrível quando ela volta ao 0 devido à pressão exterior. Não a culpo, culpo todos à sua volta, são terríveis.

Rᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ: A este ponto já não estou a dizer nada de novo, os casais das estações frias são adoráveis (especialmente a Ana e o João, ele tem a personalidade de um cachorrinho fofinho e não aceito críticas), se ignorarmos o aparente vício das autoras brasileiras em criar pares com idades em que dois ou três anos de diferença tornam a leitura desconfortável. Quanto aos meses mais quentes...o David é um idiota quase tão grande como a Jasmine (ainda bem que duas pessoas com complexos de vítima se encontraram, podem fugir do resultado das decisões que tomaram conscientemente juntos) e é bom que me tirem o Guima da frente, e rápido, já não posso com o senhor "Oh mas como é que ele não tem nenhum defeito? Espera...ele quase destruiu a vida da protagonista e traiu a antiga namorada, ups!". Exigo justiça para a Inha!

Iᴍᴇʀsᴀ̃ᴏ: Procrastinei imenso acabar esta obra, não é o tipo de livro que prenda o leitor.

Iᴍᴘᴀᴄᴛᴏ: Tudo o que este livro tinha de fazer era oferecer quatro histórias de amor reconfortantes e suaves que deixassem o leitor a suspirar e melhorassem o seu dia, não é pedir muito. Memórias disto não quero, o livro é para vender.

Cʟᴀssɪғɪᴄᴀᴄ̧ᴀ̃ᴏ Fɪɴᴀʟ: ⭐⭐+ ½

Iᴅᴀᴅᴇ Aᴄᴏɴsᴇʟʜᴀᴅᴀ: Na verdade, como direi a seguir, não aconselho a leitura, mas se tiverem de ler (não têm, amigos, não têm), suponho que não haverá problema a partir dos 13 anos, apesar de romance não ser uma prioridade nessa idade e de este livro ter alguns maus exemplos do que é uma relação.

Cᴏɴᴄʟᴜsᴀ̃ᴏ/Oᴘɪɴɪᴀ̃ᴏ Fɪɴᴀʟ: Eu realmente apreciei uma boa parte da obra, o problema foi o facto de os capítulos bons estarem todos no início, ou seja, os fatores que me tinham deixado entusiasmada foram-se esvaindo da minha memória à medida que o clima ia (literalmente) aquecendo. Temo que o que é bom aqui não seja fabuloso ao ponto de justificar aguentar-se o resto, há por aí contos românticos que valem muito mais a compra. NÃO RECOMENDO.

Pᴀʀᴀ ᴏʙᴛᴇʀ: Um Ano Inesquecível, Thalita Rebouças - Livro - Bertrand

Assɪɴᴀᴅᴏ: Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ 𝐿𝓊𝓏 Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

[ncisladaily]

@danniruahfans - Reposted from @sicnoticias: Daniela Ruah diz que a Inteligência Artificial “tem o seu lugar” na indústria do entretenimento, mas que esse lugar “não é substituir as pessoas”. “Prefiro ver uma pessoa que tem sentimentos e que se emociona, e também não me faz sentido tirar trabalho às pessoas”. Ouça o episódio completo através do link na bio. #ai #ia #inteligenciaartificial #portugal #sicnoticias #podcast #geracao80 #anos80 #sicnoticias #ncis #danielaruah #ncisla #ncislosangeles #kensiblye #ncishawaii #ncisverse #franciscopintobalsemão #sic @danielaruah