#he is enormously talented. and the inventiveness and sense of fun are kind of off the charts

[itspileofgoodthings]

Dickens LOVES a recurring bit for a character. Kind of how he writes people at all!

[makeste]

What are your favorite hero names?

oh man there are so many. I had to limit myself to a top twenty, and even that was rough. anyway so first off, a few runner ups because I couldn’t go without mentioning these:

Vlad King - to be clear, this isn’t actually one of my top hero names. but I’m mentioning it here because back when I was first reading the series, one of the fan scanlations -- either Fallen Angels or Mangastream, I forget which -- had originally translated his hero name as Brad King. which, to be frank, would have been one of the greatest hero names of ALL TIME. you can’t imagine my disappointment when I finally learned the truth. it still haunts me to this day.

Jack Mantis - this is Kamakiri (a.k.a. the guy from class 1-B who can grow knives out of his body)’s hero name. my question is, why the Jack. the mantis part, I get! that’s fairly obvious! but the “Jack” is forever a mystery to me. it just adds this little layer of intrigue.

Mr. Brave - this guy is one of the few good things to come from the Basement arc. don’t get me wrong, he is completely useless. but his name? absolutely legendary. this guy, with his power of ripping his own hair out and turning it into a sword (yes that’s his quirk), an ability that could be easily duplicated or bested by literally any jackass who just went out and bought their own damn sword, really thought to himself, “I am going to be the BEST MCFUCKING HERO THE WORLD HAS EVER SEEN. I AM GOING TO NAME MYSELF... MISTER BRAVE.” and they let him, you guys. they let him.

anyway so now for the top twenty!

20. Can’t Stop Twinkling - this isn’t a name so much as it is poetry in three words. I still cannot believe that Aoyama went up to Midnight with a hero name that sounds more like the world’s greatest Dear Abby letter, and she actually let him keep it. I’m not 100% clear on how this all works, but I like to think this means that Aoyama’s fellow heroes have an actual legal obligation to call him this in battle. I don’t think we as a fandom and as a people really take enough time out of our lives to stop and be grateful for Aoyama’s existence.

19. Uravity - it’s a pun!! it’s so cute and I love it!! and it’s such a perfect name in that it just instantly sums up and defines her whole brand, bringing to mind both Ochako the person and Zero Gravity the quirk. honestly she is one of only a few kids whose hero name I never space out on. with a lot of the others I usually have to pause for a sec and be like “wait, what was their name again?” but never Ochako.

18. Present Mic - this would make a really great band name honestly. I just like it. I’m pretty sure Horikoshi was going for “present” as in the verb meaning “to perform”, like in “presentation”, but to tell the truth I always pronounce it like “present” as in “gift” or “the present time”, which doesn’t make any sense at all, but IT’S JUST WHAT MY BRAIN DECIDED TO DO. anyway.

17. Tsukuyomi - I know this name has its origins in Japanese mythology, but to be completely honest I’ve always just associated it with Itachi’s infamous genjutsu attack from Naruto. I just think it’s the gothest thing ever and absolutely perfect for Tokoyami lol.

16. All Might - there’s just something about this name that kind of makes me just want to pump my fists and go “YEAH!!” I really like the use of “might” as a noun rather than “mighty” as an adjective like you see in so many classic superhero names. it’s just so much cooler somehow. this name really does conjure up the image of the strongest guy in the universe.

15. Midnight - honestly I’m almost mad that this wound up being a hero name, because it would have made a perfect villain name. it’s dark and mysterious and sexy. it’s no wonder why Midnight chose it lol. anyway so my girl is a bit kinky, nothing wrong with that, and it’s also a perfect name for someone whose quirk puts other people to sleep. it’s just such spot-on branding, I love it.

14. Ingenium - fun fact, I had no idea what this meant when I first came across it because I don’t speak Latin! apparently it means “genius” or “talent.” which is a very good meaning for a hero name! but honestly the real reason I love it so much is because it’s Iida’s tribute to his brother, and I am just such a sucker for that kind of shit. damn you Iida siblings. quit giving me all these feels.

13. Shouto – yes, seriously. I know a lot of people hate this name, and it’s always getting flak for being bland and uncreative. but I honestly think it’s a perfect name for Shouto. firstly because Shouto himself is very much the opposite of flashy in a lot of ways. he’s not particularly animated or attention-seeking; he is a very calm, sort of still-waters-run-deep person, and I think the lack of a snappy brand name fits that personality. I’m even more delighted that it hasn’t remotely curbed his popularity at all (at this point I think the only kid hero with more in-universe fans out there is Momo, and even then it’s probably a close thing), and I think a big part of that is that people are drawn to his unpretentious nature, especially in comparison to a lot of the other heroes out there. but most of all, I like the name because of the simple yet powerful way it serves as a declaration that he is his own person. he’s not his father, and he’s more than just a Todoroki. he is himself; he is Shouto. anyway so yeah, to me this is a fantastic name with so much depth and meaning.

12. Battle Fist - this is Kendou’s hero name AND IT’S PERFECT. like, holy shit. what should we call the girl who goes around punching bad guys around all day with her giant hands. how about BATTLE FIST. there really isn’t much more to say about this one, honestly. its greatness speaks for itself.

11. Vantablack - imagine being such an enormous douchebag that word of your douchey exploits made it all the way over to some guy in Japan who spends 95% of his waking hours writing a manga and has almost no free time. fun fact, although Anish Kapoor is the only one licensed to use the color Vantablack, the name Vantablack is still owned by Surrey NanoSystems (a.k.a. the guys who actually invented it), and so I’m pretty sure they’re the ones who decide whether or not someone else gets to use it. I wonder if Kapoor is pissed about his color being referenced in a popular shounen manga. anyways, all of that speculation aside, it really is the perfect name for someone with Kuroiro’s quirk.

10. Endeavor - look, say what you will about Endeavor the person (although I’m personally a big fan of the way his redemption arc is being done and think he’s a fascinating character, albeit a very flawed one), but there’s no denying that Endeavor is a badass name. but what’s really great about it is how it so perfectly captures the admirable part of Endeavor, the one thing about him that’s actually worth praising. he never gives up. he’s always pushing, striving, struggling forward no matter how hopeless it seems. and that’s a worthy trait, and it says something about him that this is what he chose for his hero name. a name that has nothing to do with fire, nothing to do with his quirk, nothing even to do with his goal of becoming #1. it’s simply a name that means to make an effort; to try and achieve something. and I like that.

9. Sugarman - this IMO is easily the most overlooked and severely underrated hero name in the series. it’s a hidden gem. everyone always forgets about Satou just because his power of being a Strong Punching Guy doesn’t particularly stand out in a manga chock full of strong punching guys. but he is a badass and a great character, and honestly “eating candy makes me super strong” is possibly the single greatest quirk in the history of time and I am jealous. anyway, so this is a really straightforward name, but it’s really smooth and catchy somehow and so it’s one of my favorites.

8. Gale Force - this is Inasa’s hero name! it’s another one which is criminally underrated, much like Inasa himself. airbender powers are just so badass you guys. wind is so badass. this name is all hurricaney and tempesty and super cool and powerful-sounding. this is one of those names that I’m honestly surprised wasn’t already a mainstream superhero name. Marvel was all “nah, we’ll just go with ‘Storm’”, like come on you guys where is the creativity.

7. Red Riot - this name is a fucking grand slam. it’s alliterative! it’s catchy! it’s got the word “riot” in it! it’s an absolutely perfect name for a passionate guy whose quirk lends itself towards good old fashioned brawlin’ and head bashing. the fact that it’s got additional meaning as a tribute towards Kiri’s own personal hero is just the icing on the cake. this is another name that Marvel probably legit wishes they had thought of first. it’s easily the best hero name out of everyone in class 1-A imo.

6. Sir Nighteye - hilariously for the longest time it was not confirmed whether or not Nighteye actually had a real name (he does! but I’ve forgotten it lol), and so there was this lingering question, absurd as it was, of whether or not Nighteye’s parents, whoever they are, were descendants of some proud Nighteye clan, and whether they had really, actually named their child “Sir.” anyways though, I love this name. it’s super cool and mysterious and perfect for someone with future-seeing powers, and the “Sir” just makes even awesomer because it implies that the Queen really liked him or something.

5. Mt. Lady - this name is a stroke of genius. supersize-me powers are a dime a dozen, but the characters always have names like Giant Man or Giganta or Goliath. as far as I know, no other superhero characters have ever thought to name themselves after mountains, let alone to name themselves as if they WERE a mountain. like, she isn’t “mountain lady”; she’s “MOUNT Lady”, as if she were an actual tectonic peak. it really bothers me that I can’t adequately describe in words why I love this so much. I just do!! I think she should get an award.

4. Suneater - Tamaki is out here proving to everyone that your hero name doesn’t need to have jack shit fuckall to do with your actual quirk in order to be completely badass and iconic. sometimes I wonder what Tamaki does when people ask him “out of curiosity, why did you pick that name?”, which someone surely must have done at some point. he probably turns beet red and tries to dissolve into the background. but anyway, the general public does not need to know the meaning of his hero name in order for it to have meaning; we know what the meaning is, and that it’s his way of saying “I believe in myself because my friend believes in me”, and honestly that’s all that matters. I am still of the opinion that certain other people whose childhood friends held a lot of unwavering belief in and admiration towards them could do worse than going down this same hero name route, but we will see! anyways Suneater deserves all your respect.

3. Best Jeanist - I had so much love for this name from the start, and then I found out it was a real, actual award. for people who make good jeans, or are good at wearing jeans, or something. it’s run by the Japan Jeans Council, which is also a real and actual thing. but anyway, despite it not being as wholly original of a name as I thought, it’s still iconic, and I love that he went with something that was recognizable while still fitting his quirk, and which has the added implication that he is the motherfucking best, because he is. also, given that he probably chose this name while he was still in school, and that only public figures generally seem to be eligible for the award, this implies that he chose the name Best Jeanist first, and then went on to win the actual award eight years running. presumably because the JJC got very flustered and were all, “IT’S LITERALLY HIS NAME... WE HAVE TO GIVE IT TO HIM... WE HAVE TO”, and so they did. anyway so that was a goddamn power move on his part.

2. Gang Orca - first of all, if you are an orca man, then naming yourself after orcas is a pretty apt thing to do and I have to respect that. but then along comes the “gang” part, out of absolutely NOWHERE, and it absolutely SMASHES. like, this name comes up to you and it slaps you in the face. GANG ORCA. HE’S A BIG AGGRESSIVE DOLPHIN MAN AND HE’S NOT HERE TO FUCK AROUND. IS HE ACTUALLY IN A GANG?? WE DON’T KNOW. BUT HERE HE IS, READY TO YEET YOUR DELINQUENTS AND HUNT YOUR MOTHERFUCKING SEALS. this name fucks so hard it came within inches of the number one spot. he is a ruffian and a champ.

1. Eraserhead - last but not least, the guy who DIDN’T EVEN PICK HIS OWN NAME. his best friend had to do it for him, and out of love, came up with the SINGLE BEST HERO ALIAS IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND. first of all, this name sounds like a very funky and electronicy Thom Yorke song. second, it conjures up the image of a man with a big no. 2 pencil head, which could not possibly be further from the truth. it’s just so whiplashy in the best way possible. third, the very existence of this name is seriously a goddamn miracle. he could have been “Power-Stopping Man.” or “Sleeping Bag Man.” or “Scruffy Hero: Tired Man.” or just “Shouta”, but unlike Shouto there wouldn’t have been any actual meaning to it; it would have simply been a case of him not giving the slightest of fucks about coming up with a real name. but rather than any of these, thanks to the power of friendship we were blessed with the greatest hero name in recorded memory. this is one of the few kindnesses fate has ever bestowed upon Aizawa Shouta in his tragic, exhausting life, and I for one am eternally grateful.

anyway so that’s my list! sorry if I left out anyone’s favorites! but I think all of these are deserving of love. also if you want to see the single best thing Japan has ever come up with, please go visit best-jeans.com. they even have an instagram lulz.

[acsversace-news]

In the first episode of FX's The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story Versace's (Edgar Ramirez) partner Antonio D'Amico (played by Ricky Martin) is grilled by an investigator who's totally clueless about the icon murdered moments ago. Who was he, really? the investigator wants to know. D'Amico, his white shirt stained with the blood of his partner, musters, "He was a genius."

He was, but "genius" doesn't fully convey the enormity of Versace's thinking, or his impact. Gianni Versace rose from opening a small Milan store in 1978 to being a fashion, media and branding virtuoso with an empire worth $807 million by the time he was murdered in 1997. As much as he shaped those worlds, his story may seem like a puzzling choice for Ryan Murphy's next American Crime Story after the seismic shifts of The People v. O.J. Simpson. Whereas the O.J. story divided America along racial fault lines, Versace's murder (by a gay man on a killing spree no less) didn't have the same impact to people outside the insular, elite realms of fashion and media. But if there's one thing Ryan Murphy loves, it's the element of surprise, and stories with high octane-impact. And while Versace's murder is a heinous injustice on its own, Murphy took on this story because it has implications bigger than a celebrity's death. American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace is Murphy's way of demanding accountability, of forcing the public to understand that the brutal slaying of one of the world's greatest talents was due to deeply ingrained anti-gay discrimination within law enforcement and society as a whole.

"People often ask us if we're going to do JonBenét Ramsey," executive producer and frequent Murphy collaborator Alexis Martin Woodall told TV Guide. "It's a big crime but it doesn't have larger implications. We always have to have a social context. I think it's really important to shine the light on the world FBI's largest failed manhunt and why that happened." That's why this iteration of American Crime Story has "assassination" in the title: it chronicles how homophobia ended the life of one of the world's greatest talents. Entrenched homophobia caused local police teams to bungle investigations of Andrew Cunanan (played by Darren Criss) as he killed his first victims in Minnesota and Chicago. It's also why the FBI botched its manhunt in spite of generous evidence, clues and tips. And internalized homophobia is certainly why the gay community itself downplayed the fact a gay killer was on the loose, afraid of making gay people look bad.

Yes, Versace's murder was a high-profile crime. But what should have been a watershed moment to look at how bias let a madman murder five people, including Versace, went to waste because the mostly closeted gay community was afraid (understandably) of the attention Cunanan's sexuality would foist upon them. Twenty years later, the prolific showrunner is getting justice. Because of his need to correct the record, their shared sensibilities and his singular penchant for visual razzle-dazzle, Murphy is the only TV producer who can give Versace's death as much meaning as his life. Unsurprisingly, it's also his best work yet.

"Dramatic, emotional, brash — big primary colors of emotion and subtlety," is how Tim Minear an executive producer who's worked with Murphy on AHS and Feud: Bette and Joan, described the House of Murphy sensibility to TV Guide. "Pushed," is another word he uses frequently. It's a nebulous term, but one that makes sense to anyone who's been yanked through the screen by Murphy's heightened sense of, well, everything in his shows, whether it's a chorus of gay schoolboys signing Katy Perry on Glee or Chaz Bono hacking off his hand in Horror Story.

Murphy and Versace don't make the same products, obviously, but fundamentally, they create the same effect: baptism into a world of media obsession, celebrity worship, glamour, filth and sex. "I think it's the responsibility of a designer to break rules and barriers," Versace once said, and he lived it. Versace bucked fashion rules that said expensive clothes were supposed to look refined. He borrowed from taboo subcultures — punk, bikers, sex workers — and made dresses that were loud and risqué, purposefully showing too much skin or too much pattern, to upend ideas of good taste. He also single-handedly rebranded Miami, where he created an opulent mansion, as a destination for beautiful jet-setting people. He practically created "supermodels" — Naomi Campbell was his main muse — and, as the first to deliberately place celebs like friends Prince and Madonna in the front row of his shows, he pioneered the idea that fashion could mean celebrity, rock & roll and sex.

He was openly gay, a rarity in the days when "Don't Ask Don't Tell" was supposed to be progress but barred gay people in the military from speaking about their personal lives. Being out was so rare and risky for a public figure then — yup, even for a fashion designer — that in April 1997, just months before Versace died, Ellen DeGeneres came out and saw her sitcom canceled and career stalled for years. Versace was a rebel. Versace invented giving zero f--s. Just as Versace didn't simply make clothes but rather, a feeling, Ryan Murphy doesn't make TV as much as he makes commentary. Nineteen years younger than Versace, Murphy also comes from humble beginnings (working class Indianapolis) and cut his teeth writing about entertainment for glossy pop culture magazines. Then he started creating pop culture himself, first with Popular, then Nip/Tuck, Glee, Scream Queens, the AHS series, The People v O.J. Simpson and Feud. Though every subject has been different, Murphy imbues every show with the same principles of contradictory emotion and images that leave viewers asking aloud and/or rewinding to see what the hell they just saw.

Murphy never hid his sexual orientation in his cutthroat industry, either. And just like Versace, Murphy's distinctly gay sensibility informs his shows as much as a queer point of view was imbued in Versace's clothes and casa. Their common language is camp, expressed through an innate instinct to provoke people with a patchwork of disparate, non-conformist influences. Gay men, particularly those of a certain age who endured hardships of yore, are unmatched in their ability to merge the sad, beautiful, profane, holy and hilarious in a single sentiment. If anything unites Murphy's wildly different works, it's delighting in the mix. Their end products aren't the same, but Murphy and Versace are cut from the same cloth.

Andrew Cunanan, on the other hand, was the shadow image of the two. Using the thoroughly researched book Vulgar Favors: Andrew Cunanan, Gianni Versace, and the Largest Failed Manhunt in U.S. History as its bible, the FX series depicts how Cunanan had all the desire to be as prominent as Versace or Murphy but did nothing to accomplish it other than lie and con. Versace and Murphy achieved success with endless hours of work and sacrifice, but Cunanan just earned the tokens of it — cash, clothes, drugs — through manipulation and sinister deception. And where Versace and Murphy boldly confronted homophobia by being out and outspoken, Cunanan succumbed to it by lying and pretending to be somebody else, so much that nobody who knew him really knew who he was. He killed his closest friends in egomaniacal tantrums; Cunanan shot Versace because he represented what Cunanan could've been, and what he felt he deserved. He wanted to be famous. "The most ironic thing of all," Alexis Martin Woodall said, "is that he wanted to be remembered and nobody remembers who he was. Everybody thinks fame is the answer and for most people, fame is totally destructive."

Murphy delights in showing monsters up close, as he does in American Horror Story, but he's most poignant when he probes how real-life monsters became that way. The Assassination of Gianni Versace allows Murphy to do what he does best: make viewers understand — but not empathize — with the devil. And only Murphy could achieve the delicate balance of vilifying a person without vilifying an entire culture — exactly what kept the case from having the same kind of cultural impact that O.J. had. That long overdue impact can now finally occur in Murphy's dramatic retelling.

Murphy directed the first episode of Versace and, as everyone knows, he never shies away from brutal images. The season opener goes back to Versace's face, ripped open by the stolen .40 caliber semiautomatic Cunanan used, several times in the hospital and autopsy room. It is gruesome and haunting, yet fitting. Versace made Medusa, the mythological monster with a head full of snakes, his logo; he saw the beauty in the grotesque and knew that shock had value. Murphy has made those elements hallmarks, using them as Trojan horses to make points about racism (O.J.), sexism (Feud) and now, homophobia, a subject that's obviously personal. In the years since Versace's demise, many groups and museums — and even his sister Donatella (portrayed in the FX series by her friend Penelope Cruz) — have honored Versace's legacy. But 20 years after Versace's death, Ryan Murphy has created a work that not only pays respects to the legendary designer but channels righteous anger at the institutions that robbed the world of a master whose sole life purpose was to create beauty, fun and love. And he manages to do it in a way that doesn't shy away from the fact that Versace's killer was cut from what Cunanan considered to be the same cloth. The result is a series so intense that even the cast and crew cried while shooting.

"The word genius is overused," said Woodhall. "Except with Ryan. He really is a genius. He is a visionary."

The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story premieres Wednesday, Jan. 17 at 10/9c on FX.

[darrencrissource]

In the first episode of FX’s The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime StoryVersace’s (Edgar Ramirez) partner Antonio D'Amico (played by Ricky Martin) is grilled by an investigator who’s totally clueless about the icon murdered moments ago. Who was he, really? the investigator wants to know. D'Amico, his white shirt stained with the blood of his partner, musters, “He was a genius.”

He was, but “genius” doesn’t fully convey the enormity of Versace’s thinking, or his impact. Gianni Versace rose from opening a small Milan store in 1978 to being a fashion, media and branding virtuoso with an empire worth $807 million by the time he was murdered in 1997. As much as he shaped those worlds, his story may seem like a puzzling choice for Ryan Murphy’s next American Crime Story after the seismic shifts of The People v. O.J. Simpson. Whereas the O.J. story divided America along racial fault lines, Versace’s murder (by a gay man on a killing spree no less) didn’t have the same impact to people outside the insular, elite realms of fashion and media. But if there’s one thing Ryan Murphy loves, it’s the element of surprise, and stories with high octane-impact. And while Versace’s murder is a heinous injustice on its own, Murphy took on this story because it has implications bigger than a celebrity’s death. American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace is Murphy’s way of demanding accountability, of forcing the public to understand that the brutal slaying of one of the world’s greatest talents was due to deeply ingrained anti-gay discrimination within law enforcement and society as a whole.

“People often ask us if we’re going to do JonBenét Ramsey,” executive producer and frequent Murphy collaborator Alexis Martin Woodall told TV Guide. “It’s a big crime but it doesn’t have larger implications. We always have to have a social context. I think it’s really important to shine the light on the world FBI’s largest failed manhunt and why that happened.” That’s why this iteration of American Crime Story has “assassination” in the title: it chronicles how homophobia ended the life of one of the world’s greatest talents. Entrenched homophobia caused local police teams to bungle investigations of Andrew Cunanan (played by Darren Criss) as he killed his first victims in Minnesota and Chicago. It’s also why the FBI botched its manhunt in spite of generous evidence, clues and tips. And internalized homophobia is certainly why the gay community itself downplayed the fact a gay killer was on the loose, afraid of making gay people look bad. 

Yes, Versace's murder was a high-profile crime. But what should have been a watershed moment to look at how bias let a madman murder five people, including Versace, went to waste because the mostly closeted gay community was afraid (understandably) of the attention Cunanan's sexuality would foist upon them. Twenty years later, the prolific showrunner is getting justice. Because of his need to correct the record, their shared sensibilities and his singular penchant for visual razzle-dazzle, Murphy is the only TV producer who can give Versace's death as much meaning as his life. Unsurprisingly, it's also his best work yet.

"Dramatic, emotional, brash — big primary colors of emotion and subtlety," is how Tim Minear an executive producer who's worked with Murphy on AHS and Feud: Bette and Joan, described the House of Murphy sensibility to TV Guide. "Pushed," is another word he uses frequently. It's a nebulous term, but one that makes sense to anyone who's been yanked through the screen by Murphy's heightened sense of, well, everything in his shows, whether it's a chorus of gay schoolboys signing Katy Perry on Gleeor Chaz Bono hacking off his hand in Horror Story.

Murphy and Versace don't make the same products, obviously, but fundamentally, they create the same effect: baptism into a world of media obsession, celebrity worship, glamour, filth and sex. "I think it's the responsibility of a designer to break rules and barriers," Versace once said, and he lived it. Versace bucked fashion rules that said expensive clothes were supposed to look refined. He borrowed from taboo subcultures — punk, bikers, sex workers — and made dresses that were loud and risqué, purposefully showing too much skin or too much pattern, to upend ideas of good taste. He also single-handedly rebranded Miami, where he created an opulent mansion, as a destination for beautiful jet-setting people. He practically created "supermodels" — Naomi Campbell was his main muse — and, as the first to deliberately place celebs like friends Prince and Madonna in the front row of his shows, he pioneered the idea that fashion could mean celebrity, rock & roll and sex.

He was openly gay, a rarity in the days when "Don't Ask Don't Tell" was supposed to be progress but barred gay people in the military from speaking about their personal lives. Being out was so rare and risky for a public figure then — yup, even for a fashion designer — that in April 1997, just months before Versace died, Ellen DeGeneres came out and saw her sitcom canceled and career stalled for years. Versace was a rebel. Versace invented giving zero f--s. Just as Versace didn't simply make clothes but rather, a feeling, Ryan Murphy doesn't make TV as much as he makes commentary. Nineteen years younger than Versace, Murphy also comes from humble beginnings (working class Indianapolis) and cut his teeth writing about entertainment for glossy pop culture magazines. Then he started creating pop culture himself, first with Popular, then Nip/Tuck, Glee, Scream Queens, the AHS series, The People v O.J. Simpson andFeud.Though every subject has been different, Murphy imbues every show with the same principles of contradictory emotion and images that leave viewers asking aloud and/or rewinding to see what the hell they just saw.

Murphy never hid his sexual orientation in his cutthroat industry, either. And just like Versace, Murphy's distinctly gay sensibility informs his shows as much as a queer point of view was imbued in Versace's clothes and casa. Their common language is camp, expressed through an innate instinct to provoke people with a patchwork of disparate, non-conformist influences. Gay men, particularly those of a certain age who endured hardships of yore, are unmatched in their ability to merge the sad, beautiful, profane, holy and hilarious in a single sentiment. If anything unites Murphy's wildly different works, it's delighting in the mix. Their end products aren't the same, but Murphy and Versace are cut from the same cloth.

Andrew Cunanan, on the other hand, was the shadow image of the two. Using the thoroughly researched book Vulgar Favors: Andrew Cunanan, Gianni Versace, and the Largest Failed Manhunt in U.S. History as its bible, the FX series depicts how Cunanan had all the desire to be as prominent as Versace or Murphy but did nothing to accomplish it other than lie and con. Versace and Murphy achieved success with endless hours of work and sacrifice, but Cunanan just earned the tokens of it — cash, clothes, drugs — through manipulation and sinister deception. And where Versace and Murphy boldly confronted homophobia by being out and outspoken, Cunanan succumbed to it by lying and pretending to be somebody else, so much that nobody who knew him really knew who he was. He killed his closest friends in egomaniacal tantrums; Cunanan shot Versace because he represented what Cunanan could've been, and what he felt he deserved. He wanted to be famous. "The most ironic thing of all," Alexis Martin Woodall said, "is that he wanted to be remembered and nobody remembers who he was. Everybody thinks fame is the answer and for most people, fame is totally destructive."

Murphy delights in showing monsters up close, as he does in American Horror Story, but he's most poignant when he probes how real-life monsters became that way. The Assassination of Gianni Versace allows Murphy to do what he does best: make viewers understand — but not empathize — with the devil. And only Murphy could achieve the delicate balance of vilifying a person without vilifying an entire culture — exactly what kept the case from having the same kind of cultural impact that O.J. had. That long overdue impact can now finally occur in Murphy's dramatic retelling.

Murphy directed the first episode of Versace and, as everyone knows, he never shies away from brutal images. The season opener goes back to Versace's face, ripped open by the stolen .40 caliber semiautomatic Cunanan used, several times in the hospital and autopsy room. It is gruesome and haunting, yet fitting. Versace made Medusa, the mythological monster with a head full of snakes, his logo; he saw the beauty in the grotesque and knew that shock had value. Murphy has made those elements hallmarks, using them as Trojan horses to make points about racism (O.J.), sexism (Feud) and now, homophobia, a subject that's obviously personal. In the years since Versace's demise, many groups and museums — and even his sister Donatella (portrayed in the FX series by her friend Penelope Cruz) — have honored Versace's legacy. But 20 years after Versace's death, Ryan Murphy has created a work that not only pays respects to the legendary designer but channels righteous anger at the institutions that robbed the world of a master whose sole life purpose was to create beauty, fun and love. And he manages to do it in a way that doesn't shy away from the fact that Versace's killer was cut from what Cunanan considered to be the same cloth. The result is a series so intense that even the cast and crew cried while shooting.

"The word genius is overused," said Woodhall. "Except with Ryan. He really is a genius. He is a visionary."

The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story premieres Wednesday, Jan. 17 at 10/9c on FX.

December 28, 2017

[phidiaspickle]

For @everysoonceinawhile

Cancer ~ IMAGINATION AVARICE INSIGHT IRRITABILITY TENACITY DESPONDENCY AFFECTION POSSESSIVENESS CARING CAUTION MOODINESS HYPERSENSITIVITY

Snake - INTUITION DISSIMULATION ATTRACTIVENESS EXTRAVAGANCE DISCRETION LAZINESS SAGACITY CUPIDITY CLAIRVOYANCE PRESUMPTION COMPASSION EXCLUSIVENESS

“I feel”  ��Water, Moon, Cardinal

“I sense”  Negative Fire, Yang

As Cancers go, the Snake type is more independent of ponderous emotional fetters than his kin. He’s familial to be sure, and even clinging—after all, he is both Snake and Cancer! But the Cancer born a Snake, unlike certain other Cancers we all know and love, recognizes his own weaknesses, comprehends his black moods and, because of his cool-headed sagacity, usually manages to slither out of the lunatic doldrums for which Cancers can be so famous.

As Snakes go, the Cancer/Snake will be less cold-blooded than other serpents. Cancer’s brooding soulfulness and profound affectivity lend the Snake a blanket, caress his cold exterior and warm the heart into something close to affability. Snakes can be really cool customers. They wiggle and squirm their way in and out of every variety of situation and are clever as snakes at turning most circumstances to their favor. In the Cancerian Snake, this tendency to want the leading role in all of life’s movies is tempered by common sense and natural reserve.

All Snakes are created fabulators. But some are more prevaricating than others. Cancer/Snakes are among the least slippery of serpents. They might not bamboozle their grandmothers just to make themselves look good. Nonetheless, even the sensible Cancer/Snake is capable of rank dissimulation and tells ingenious and Byzantine fibs. He can’t help it. He believes his own fantasies. Fibbing, after all, is part of the challenge of seduction and capture. And all Cancer/Snakes want to be thought of as captivating, charming, beautiful to behold, better than their neighbors and taller and handsomer and better dressed than anybody anywhere ever. Attractiveness is inborn and crucially important to this creature.

These folks are not above name-dropping and label-flaunting. Picture the splendid home-loving Cancerian/Snake seated on his designer couch, wearing his designer jeans. His tanned and braceleted arms embrace a brood of beautiful towheads in designer frocks and Bermuda shorts Behind his head, a Picasso. At his feet, a giant Pyrenees hound found only in the furthest darkest caves of Andorra. Everybody knows these huge beasts eat at least one small cow every day, are très, très à la mode and fetch a fortune. Never mind. The image is the message with Cancer/Snakes. No matter the cost or the travail involved, count on your friendly neighborhood Cancer/Snake to own the most chic and fashionable of everything.

Incidentally, if you don’t live in an upper-echelon neighborhood you may never meet one of these gorgeous creatures. If they can help it, Cancerian Snakes don’t hang out in scruffy sections. They may come from poverty, but they are determined not to stay there for long. Up and over they go, attending the “right” schools and rubbing shoulders with the “in” crowd, marrying the one person in the whole gang who is sure to become famous and rich. Cancer/Snakes don’t only like comfort, they think they invented it.

These people love to entertain, too. Once they have achieved a modicum of security and know a few of the “top” people, count on the Cancer/Snake to throw some of the most lavish and well-attended parties in town. Of course Cancer/Snakes will have catered food and a pair of bartenders, set a team of servants to work shucking the oysters, and then will circulate. The way he sees it, the Cancer/Snake cannot very well move about among his guests, charm the pants off the chancellor of Germany whose press secretary promised he’d put in an appearance, inveigle the secretary of the art museum to give him a private showing of the new upcoming work of the younger artists and serve drinks at the same time—or can he? Well, it doesn’t really matter, because he won’t. Cancer/Snakes like to be waited on. And as long as they can afford slaves they will be sure to have them.

These people are extremely artistic. They have a way of embellishing everything that comes their way. And Cancer/Snakes are also wise and can be of good counsel. They are super intuitive, really can project themselves into other people’s skins and will think long and hard about someone’s dilemma before dispensing a single word of their sage advice.

Cancer/Snakes are fun-loving too. They are always up there dancing till dawn with the heartiest of the youngsters, looking fabulous and enjoying being the envy of all present. And don’t put it past a Cancer/Snake to be “that woman who stripped to her undies last week at the posh club over in Soho.” Cancerian Snakes have a naughty streak. They like to be considered a mite outrageous or exotic.

Love

Possessive? Exclusive? Demanding? Intractable? You got it—the Cancer/ Snake is all of these and much, much more. The Cancer/Snake is so attractive and sexy and lovely to watch move that people may gather just to watch him or her enter a public place. These people have the market cornered on slink. Underneath the slink is an amazing amount of good-scouted, good-hearted fellowship and an enormous caring for friends and lovers alike. The Cancer/Snake will not be faithful. But he or she will always be seductive and alluring. Even if he’s carrying on a roaring affair with the German minister’s secretary, the Cancerian Snake will always attend to his or her mate as though he or she were the ruler of Germany itself.

If you love a Cancerian Snake, get ready to make a lot of money, spend it all and then go out and make some more. As the mate of this exciting person, you will luxuriate in perfectly glorious surroundings and have scads of very decorous friends and acquaintances to whom you can complain that your Cancer/Snake companion is too attractive to other men and women and you wish you had married a nice solid Taurus/Dog. In order to get the best out of life with a Cancer/Snake, you have to be able to fall down laughing, ooohhh and aaahhh when he comes down the stairs dressed to kill, and enjoy cooking your own meals and eating them alone by the fireside while Cancer/Snake is out rounding up some new sculptures to beautify your existence.

Compatibilities

You get a charge out of Roosters. Your best shots with them will be found among Taurus, Virgo, Scorpio and Pisces. The same goes for Oxen in all those categories. You’re not thrilled by Aries or Capricorn/Tigers or Monkeys. Leave Pigs alone. I know they are usually naïve and often have lots of money; and you have plenty of guile for both of you and excel at spending money. But, let’s face it. You don’t always have Piggy’s best interests at heart.

Home and Family

Cancer/Snake’s main home will be located, it goes without saying, in the best possible quarter of the closest metropolis to heaven. But then there is, of course, the house in the country. This little manse is likely to want to be situated right in the heart of the most celebrated verdant horse and dog-breeding territory, not too far from the first paradise we mentioned. Then, you have to have a place at the beach. That’ll be located on the prettiest seashore available at the highest price, please. And don’t forget the little mas in the south of France—or was it Tuscany? Well, wherever, it won’t be long before the Cancer/Snake invests in some opulent, trendy foreign real estate.

Inside these homes will live masses of children and dogs and cats and house guests and maids and nannies—well, you name it, it lives at the Cancer/Snake’s house. You see, with all their elegance and savoir vivre, Cancer/Snakes love pets and kids and guinea pigs and horses etc. Cancer/ Snakes are really incredibly dear, sweet people. They really don’t mind if your Doberman jumps up on their new Jaeger tweed skirt.

If you have a Cancer/Snake child, you must be careful to provide him or her with lots of security and plenty of animals to love. As is true with all Snakes, it’s probably best for the exclusive Cancer/Snake child to be an only child, or at least the baby of the family. Cancer/Snake kids are bright in school and work hard to get ahead. They usually don't cause their parents many problems and carry on with their lives quite independently of the parents’ intervention. These little people are very affectionate. You must always tuck them in warmly and kiss them goodnight.

Profession

In the early part of his life, the Cancer/Snake, like all his serpent brothers and sisters, will try to wriggle out of chores and tasks. And just because he’s a Cancer doesn’t mean that he won’t have to fight the great battle against sloth that is native to all Snake subjects. But as adulthood approaches and the Cancer/Snake grows more and more independent of parental security, he will note that riches and work are irremediably intertwined. Then his true Cancer nature will take over. He’ll still be on the sit-around-and-look-beautiful side of a lazy Sunday afternoon. But the grown-up Cancer/Snake can be counted on to pitch in when there’s a need for a second shoulder at the wheel.

Talented in everything related to beauty and the home, this person can succeed at decoration, architecture, graphic design of all kinds, fashion or advertising. Gifted in deception, persevering and supremely intuitive, Cancer/Snakes might also choose law—even politics—as a life’s work. This character is more cerebral than manual but might employ his talents well in some light labor such as landscape gardening. Cancer/Snakes can very satisfactorily hold dominion over others. They do not have to abuse power because their authority is so natural that people rarely question it. As an employee, the Cancer/Snake might tend to be a little on the snooty know-it-all side. I’m not sure I’d hire one to do a menial job of any sort.

A very famous Cancer/Snake: Andrew Wyeth, one of the best and surely most successful contemporary painters in the United States. Also: Peter Maas, Ashley Montagu, Alain Krivine, Christiana Rochefort, Henri Salvador, Liv Tyler, Martha Reeves, Twyla Tharp, Vicki Carr.

[mastcomm]

Review: ‘Eurydice,’ a New Opera, Looks Back All Too Tamely

LOS ANGELES — The composer Matthew Aucoin began working on “Crossing,” his first opera, when he was in college. It was a work of enormous talent, exciting promise and considerable hubris: Mr. Aucoin wrote his own libretto, inventing a story about Walt Whitman’s work with wounded soldiers during the Civil War.

If “Crossing” (2015) lacked “a certain kind of unity” — as Mr. Aucoin, now 29, said in a recent interview — it was still taut, intense and audacious. What would he do next?

The answer came on Saturday, with the premiere of “Eurydice” at Los Angeles Opera, where it runs through Feb. 23 before traveling to the Metropolitan Opera next year. This project demanded a very different approach. Mr. Aucoin didn’t write the libretto; instead, the text was a collaboration with the playwright Sarah Ruhl, closely hewing to her 2003 play, a modern-day take on the Orpheus and Eurydice myth which tells the story from the woman’s perspective.

The play is meditative and surreal, fantastical and funny. Mr. Aucoin said in the interview that he thought he needed to do remarkably little: He wanted just to “tap” the words, to release the wells of emotional undercurrents in Ms. Ruhl’s clean, simple phrases. Throughout this three-act opera, you sense Mr. Aucoin honorably striving to serve the play.

He may have been overly deferential. Ms. Ruhl’s libretto called for a lighter, more enchanting score than “Crossing.” But the musical language of “Eurydice” is at times curiously tame.

I liked the opera most when, during fraught episodes, the music turns jagged and dangerous. Whenever Mr. Aucoin gives vent to his liveliest voice — with hints here of Ravel, Britten and Thomas Adès — the opera takes off.

I sat up every time he seemed to push the libretto aside briefly to let some gnarly, skittish music take charge, especially in the incisive performance he conducted. And the director Mary Zimmerman’s inventive production conveys the right mix of whimsical fairy tale and disturbing morality play through a simple, colorful staging, with sets by Daniel Ostling and costumes by Ana Kuzmanic.

After a short, quizzical overture, we meet Orpheus and Eurydice, dressed for fun at the beach. The vivacious Eurydice (the soprano Danielle de Niese) seems smitten with the hearty Orpheus (the baritone Joshua Hopkins). Yet you soon sense her doubts. A self-absorbed — if supernaturally talented — musician, Orpheus doesn’t share her passion for books and words. When he looks distracted and Eurydice asks him what he’s thinking about, he answers: “Music.”

In the opera’s boldest stroke, Mr. Aucoin, who sees Orpheus as a divided character, gives him a double. Orpheus the everyday guy — clueless if also endearing — is sung by Mr. Hopkins, with firm voice and youthful swagger. But Orpheus also has a godlike dimension, represented here by a countertenor, John Holiday, who appears in moments when Orpheus’s questing nature comes out. Eurydice doesn’t see Orpheus’s double, but panicky outbursts in the orchestra and her sputtered vocal lines suggest that she senses him.

Eurydice readily accepts Orpheus’s marriage proposal. But soon after, in the underworld, we see her deceased father, a sad, reflective man who still adores his daughter. (He is sung by the mellow-voiced baritone Rod Gilfry — an old Aucoin hand, having originated the role of Whitman in “Crossing.”)

He writes a letter to Eurydice, offering the fatherly advice he would have shared at the ceremony. Mr. Aucoin shows respect for the tender, charming words by setting them to somber music of lyrical pining over restless orchestral stirrings. But I wanted less reverence, and more intensity.

The wedding scene is wonderful, with guests dancing to gyrating music; at one point the orchestra becomes a riot of squiggly riffs. But Eurydice is somehow dissatisfied. “I always thought there would be more interesting people at my wedding,” she says.

Well, an interesting person appears: Hades, a character Mr. Aucoin clearly relished, written for high-lying tenor and sung fearlessly by Barry Banks. The god of the underworld, Hades first seems courtly, snaring Eurydice by telling her he has a letter for her from her father. Mr. Aucoin has a penchant for using the orchestra to hug vocal lines. He takes this to arresting extremes with Hades: Groups of instruments buttress, enclose, mimic and sometimes needle every syllable.

Ms. de Niese, though strained at times, sang with fullness and richly expressive shadings. She was riveting — a young woman tortured with indecision — as she went off with Hades then tumbled into the underworld.

The darkest element of the play and opera is how the underworld is depicted: The dead pass through a river of forgetfulness, where they lose their memories, and even language. Eurydice’s father has secretly kept possession of a pen — forbidden below — and his English. In a heartbreaking moment, the dead Eurydice arrives, holding an umbrella that has not protected her from the waters. She mistakes her beloved father for a porter.

Almost every musical telling of this myth has a moment when Orpheus sings a song that so enchants the gatekeepers of the underworld that he is given permission to enter and reclaim his wife. Mr. Aucoin’s version, with Orpheus joined by his double, is more a stentorian demand that an aria of lyrical persuasion. I thought the music, for all its stern fortitude, needed more threatening fervor.

The emotions of the characters are poked at throughout by a trio of bizarre figures: Little Stone (Stacey Tappan), Big Stone (Raehann Bryce-Davis) and Loud Stone (Kevin Ray). Like an irreverent Greek chorus, they laugh at human pretensions and encourage people to feel nothing. (No one gets hurt that way.) As they trade phrases and boisterously overlap, Mr. Aucoin’s music for them is aptly snide and harmonically slippery.

A chorus of nearly 40 voices provides harmonic plushness and ethereal sounds during crucial episodes. But Ms. Zimmerman, with the blessing of Mr. Aucoin, keeps the chorus backstage in an effort to focus on the main characters. This seemed a major miscalculation. The choral writing added pungency to the score. And the drama, which sometimes felt static, could have benefited from the presence of witnesses onstage. Ms. Zimmerman might reconsider this before the production travels to the Met, which co-commissioned the work.

When Orpheus is poised to lead his wife up to earth’s surface — agreeing not to look back as he does so — this Eurydice, her memory still fuzzy, is uncertain. Her husband is waiting, the three stones tell her. “That’s a stranger,” she answers: And when you think about it, wasn’t Orpheus, wrapped in his art, always a kind of stranger to this thoughtful woman?

After she has died a second time, Eurydice writes a sisterly letter to Orpheus’s future wife, giving Ms. de Niese a poignantly fragile final aria. Mr. Aucoin’s music lifts her vocal lines while shimmering tremulously in the background. Here this still-young, extravagantly gifted composer grabbed the dramatic moment and met it with energy and originality. If only he had done so more often.

Eurydice

Through Feb. 23 at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, Los Angeles; laopera.org.

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[nottherealericcarle-blog]

List of published works.

Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? written by Bill Martin Jr, 1967 Appealing animals in bold colors are seen and named in a rhyming question-and-response text that delights as it invites young readers and listeners to participate actively.

1, 2, 3 to the Zoo, 1968 Fun and learning add up to a perfect 10 in this eloquent but wordless counting book. Bright pictures tell the story: each car on the train has one more zoo animal than the one before it, and all arrive happily at the zoo in a dramatic foldout finale.

The Very Hungry Caterpillar, 1969 This all-time favorite not only follows the very hungry caterpillar as it grows from egg to cocoon to beautiful butterfly, but also teaches the days of the week, counting, good nutrition and more. Striking pictures and cleverly die-cut pages offer interactive fun.

Pancakes, Pancakes!, 1970 Jack wants some pancakes, but first he must gather eggs from the chickens, wheat from the farmer, flour from the miller, milk from the cow, etc. His mother shows him how to cook and flip them, and hungry Jack knows what to do with them next.

The Tiny Seed, 1970 Poetic but simple text and lovely collage pictures dramatize the life cycle of all plants, as one tiny seed grows into an enormous sunflower, which then produces more seeds in its turn.

Tales of the Nimipoo by Eleanor B. Hardy, 1970 (out of print) Native American stories, with woodcut illustrations.

The Boastful Fisherman by William Knowlton, 1970 (out of print) An old Hawaiian tale of boastful fishermen who learn their lesson as they try to prove their fishing prowess. Colorful linoleum block print illustrations.

Feathered Ones and Furry by Aileen Fisher, 1971 (out of print) Gentle nature poems with woodcut illustrations, on acetate and art paper.

The Scarecrow Clock by George Mendoza, 1971 (out of print) Full color collages illustrate an amusing fantasy.

Do You Want to Be My Friend?, 1971 In few words but expressive pictures, a little mouse looks for a friend - and happily finds one just in time to save himself from a predator who has been hiding there all the time - unseen, but in plain sight! A simple story on the universal theme of friendship.

Rooster’s Off to See the World, 1972 Rooster and the colorful animals that join him on his journey to see the world, provide an enjoyable introduction to the meaning of numbers and sets.

The Very Long Tail (Folding Book), 1972 (out of print)  

The Very Long Train (Folding Book), 1972 (out of print) These two wordless books (now collectors’ items) are printed on heavy stock, accordion-folded, and come in their own plastic cases. “Read” or looked at in sequence, each tells a story in bright collage pictures. These innovative books can also stand alone, toy like, to form a decorated wall or play area for a child of pre-reading age.

The Secret Birthday Message, 1972 A message in code starts Tim off on an exciting treasure hunt through a dark cave, an underground tunnel, and other strange places until he finds a happy surprise. Die-cut pages demonstrate in a “hands on” way the meanings of place-words like up, below, through, etc.

Walter the Baker, 1972 By order of the Duke, Walter the Baker must invent a tasty roll through which the rising sun can shine three times. A lively and colorful retelling of the legend of the invention of the pretzel.

Do Bears Have Mothers Too? by Aileen Fisher, 1973 (out of print) Striking, poster-like pictures of a variety of animal mothers with their offspring - cubs, kittens, cygnets, and other charmers - are accompanied by verses by a beloved nature-poet.

Have You Seen My Cat?, 1973 A boy’s beloved pet cat has disappeared and he sets out to find it. In his search he meets many different kinds of cats, both wild and domesticated, before he finally discovers his own cat, who has a happy surprise for him. (Can you guess what it is?)

I See a Song, 1973 As a violinist, shown in black and white, starts to play, colorful semi-abstract images emerge from his music, transmuting magically from one to the next until the end, when the violinist, himself transformed into a many-colored figure, bows and leaves. Wordless, this beautiful book encourages children to develop their own visual and musical imagination and creativity.

My Very First Book of Numbers My Very First Book of Colors   My Very First Book of Shapes   My Very First Book of Words, 1974 A collection of split-page books in which children can match various familiar objects with numbers, colors, shapes, and words. A gamelike approach to learning, for very young children.

Why Noah Chose the Dove written by Isaac Bashevis Singer, 1974 Master story-teller and master illustrator combine their brilliant talents to produce a fresh and lively version of this favorite Old Testament tale of the animals as they vie with one another for a place of honor on Noah’s Ark. For all ages.

All About Arthur, 1974 (out of print) An Amusing And Articulate Alphabet-ical story for all ages, in well-chosen words and Zany pictures.

The Hole in the Dike written by Norma Green, 1975 The classic tale of the brave little Dutch boy who kept his finger in a leak in the dike all night long, preventing the damage from spreading, and so saved his town from a devastating flood. Inspiring story of a courageous small boy.

The Mixed-Up Chameleon, 1975 Hilarious pictures show what happens when a bored chameleon wishes it could be more like other animals, but is finally convinced it would rather just be itself. An imagination-stretcher for children.

Eric Carle’s Storybook, Seven Tales by the Brothers Grimm, 1976   (out of print) Seven of the most popular tales by the Brothers Grimm, retold by Eric Carle and illustrated in full color.

The Grouchy Ladybug, 1977 A grouchy ladybug who is looking for a fight challenges everyone it meets regardless of their size or strength. How this bumptious bug gets its comeuppance and learns the pleasures to be gained by cheerfulness and good manners is an amusing lesson in social behavior. Die-cut pages add drama and dimension.

Watch Out! A Giant!, 1978 Die-cut pages add to the excitement as two children outwit a scary giant.

Seven Stories by Hans Christian Andersen, 1978 (out of print) A companion to Eric Carle’s Storybook (above), this features seven favorite stories retold and illustrated by Eric Carle.

Twelve Tales from Aesop, 1980 (out of print) Familiar classic fables retold and illustrated by Eric Carle.

The Honeybee and the Robber, 1981 A brave little honeybee saves the day when a big hungry bear attacks the beehive. Ingenious pop-ups and other movable images bring this funny and informative story to vivid life.

Otter Nonsense by Norton Juster, 1982 (out of print) Very amusing, cartoon-like line drawings illustrate excruciatingly clever puns by noted author Norton Juster. Fun for all ages.

Catch the Ball! Let’s Paint A Rainbow   What’s For Lunch?, 1982 This delightful series incorporates movable parts, cutout shapes, and sturdy board pages that have been designed to encourage counting, adding, color naming, object identification, beginning reading, and manual dexterity.

Chip Has Many Brothers written by Hans Baumann, 1983 new title: Thank You, Brother Bear, 1995 An original tale,which skillfully combines elements of both North European and Native American traditions, tells of a little boy, Chip, who must make a long and dangerous journey to get the medicine that will cure his sick sister. Because he is both brave and kind, he is helped by the animals he meets along the way.  

The Very Busy Spider, 1984 With the use of raised printing, this innovative book adds the sense of touch to vision and hearing as ways to understand and enjoy the strikingly designed illustrations and the memorable story. Various farm animals try to divert a busy little spider from spinning her web, but she persists and produces a thing of both beauty and usefulness. Enjoyed by all audiences, this book’s tactile element makes it especially interesting to the visually-impaired.

The Foolish Tortoise written by Richard Buckley, 1985 A witty modern fable tells how a tortoise discovers the need for a shell after several scary encounters.  

The Greedy Python written by Richard Buckley, 1985 A companion book to The Foolish Tortoise (above), this tells of a python who is so excessively greedy that it finally eats itself.  

The Mountain that Loved a Bird written by Alice McLerran, 1985 A sensitive, poetic text inspires handsome, semi-abstract college illustrations, in this tale of a little bird that brings a renewal of life and happiness to a lonely, barren mountain.

All Around Us, 1986, (out of print)  

Papa, Please Get the Moon for Me, 1986 Beautiful illustrations are enhanced by dramatic fold-out pages in this moving and imaginative tale of a father’s love for his daughter. Monica’s father fulfills her request by bringing the moon down from the sky after it’s small enough to carry, but it continues to change in size.

My Very First Book of Sounds My Very First Book of Food My Very First Book of Tools My Very First Book of Touch My Very First Book of Motion My Very First Book of Growth My Very First Book of Homes My Very First Book of Heads, 1986, (all out of print) A group of small-format books with bold, simple images and words, designed, as the titles indicate, for the very young child who is just learning to identify, name, and classify familiar objects.  

All in a Day collected by Mitsumasa Anno, 1986 Eric Carle, in collaboration with nine other internationally-acclaimed artists, reveals events in a day in the lives of children in various countries all over the world, showing time, climate, environmental and social differences but emphasizing the commonality of humankind everywhere. Thought-provoking as well as entertaining.  

A House for Hermit Crab, 1987 An underwater fantasy based on the true habits of hermit crabs and the flora and fauna of their marine environment, this book offers young readers an interesting first introduction to marine biology as well as an appealing story of Hermit Crab’s search for a house he can really call his home, as he grows throughout one year’s cycle.

The Lamb and the Butterfly written by Arnold Sundgaard, 1988 A protected lamb and an independent butterfly discuss their very different ways of living in a charmingly simple yet philosophical text on the themes of tolerance and diversity. Lovely full-color illustrations appeal to a wide audience range.

Eric Carle’s Treasury of Classic Stories for Children, 1988 A delightfully illustrated retelling of 22 favorite folktales, fairytales, and fables that every child should know. Retold from the works of Aesop, Hans Christian Andersen, and the Brothers Grimm.

Animals Animals compiled by Laura Whipple, 1989 A generously illustrated collection of poems by a variety of authors, describing the peculiarities and charms of pets as well as both wild and domestic animals. Eric Carle is noted for his depiction of animals and this colorful anthology contains some of his finest works.

The Very Quiet Cricket, 1990 The surprise ending of this enormously popular book features a chip that perfectly reproduces the real sound of a cricket’s song. In the story, a young cricket longs to make a sound by rubbing his wings together as many other crickets do. How he finally gets his wish is a romantic tale as well as a first look at natural history for the very young.

Polar Bear, Polar Bear, What Do You Hear? written by Bill Martin Jr, 1991 Easy, repetitive question-and-response text draws children into joyful interaction as they imitate the sounds of a variety of zoo animals for the zookeeper. Big, bold animal illustrations and lots of noisy fun.

Dragons Dragons compiled by Laura Whipple, 1991 Fearsome dragons and other fantastic legend creatures abound in this collection of poems, both modern and classic, all gloriously illustrated in full color, that will expand the world of a reader’s imagination.

Draw Me a Star, 1992 The artist’s drawing of a star begins the creation of an entire universe around him as each successive pictured object requests that he draw more. Based on Eric Carle’s recollection of his grandmother’s way of drawing a star (directions included), this seemingly simple story also provides insights into an artist’s private world of creativity. An inspiring book.

Today Is Monday, 1993 Based on the well-known children’s song, funny, full-color pictures show the foods featured for each day of the week. In a thoughtful new ending to the familiar text, all the world’s children are invited on Sunday to come and eat it up.

My Apron, 1994 A little boy longs to help his uncle, a mason, plaster the chimney. He feels very grown-up when he gets a work-apron of his own and the chance to do his own small share in real “grown-up” work. A touching story with a valuable message, illustrated in a striking technique using a strong black outline over bright color. A usable, child-size work-apron is included with the book for the reader who can’t wait to get started on his or her own work project.

The Very Lonely Firefly, 1995 Young readers empathize with the lonely firefly who makes many errors as he looks for the group where he will really “belong.” In his search for compatible companions, he meets many other night creatures, but none is quite right—until the happy surprise at the very end when the illustration of a swarm of friendly fireflies literally shines and twinkles a welcome in the night. Heartwarming.

Little Cloud, 1996 Every child loves to see fanciful shapes in the clouds. But what are clouds really for? Here a little cloud slips away from its parent clouds and turns itself into a series of wonderful forms - a sheep, an airplane, a hat, a clown - before rejoining the other clouds as they perform their real function: making rain.

The Art of Eric Carle, 1996 This handsomely-designed volume explores many facets of Eric Carle’s life and work. It includes an autobiography, illustrated with many photographs, telling of his early years in the United States, describing the roots of his inspiration, his art education in Germany, his career as a commercial artist on his return to the land of his birth, and his almost accidental discovery of his real vocation—creating beautiful picture books for young children. Essays and critical appreciations of his works, and color photographs showing how the artist creates his unique collage illustrations add to the interest and usefulness of this book. Fine reproductions of many of his best illustrations and a complete list of his books are included.

From Head to Toe, 1997 “I can do it!” is the confidence-building message of this book. As young children copy the antics of Eric Carle’s animals, they’ll learn such important skills as careful listening, focusing attention, and following instructions. Just as alphabet books introduce letters and simple words, From Head to Toe introduces the basic body parts and simple body movements - the ABC’s of dancing, gymnastics, and other sports activities.

Flora and Tiger: 19 very short stories from my life, 1997 Every so often, children who have grown up enjoying Eric Carle’s books ask him whether he has written “older” books. Inspired by his questioners, Eric Carle has written this delightful collection of short stories. The events in these stories take place from his earliest childhood to the present. All of the stories are true. But they are set down, not in the order in which they happened, but as they occurred to the author. They come from various places and times of his life and have three things in common: animals or insects, friends or relatives, and Eric Carle.

Hello, Red Fox, 1998 Mama Frog gets a big surprise when the guests arrive for Little Frog’s birthday party: Red Fox looks green to her! Orange Cat looks blue! With the active help of the reader, Little Frog shows Mama Frog how to see the animals in their more familiar colors. In this book, Eric Carle invites readers to discover complementary colors while enjoying the amusing story of Little Frog and his colorful friends.

You Can Make a Collage: A Very Simple How-to Book, 1998 Many people ask Eric Carle how he makes his pictures. Klutz Press and Eric Carle got together to answer that question in this simple how-to book, featuring 72 full-color printed tissue papers painted by Eric Carle with instructions and inspirations and even a bit of encouragement for those in a bit of need.

The Very Clumsy Click Beetle, 1999 HEAR the beetle CLICK as it flips through the pages of this book and learns how to land on its feet! Small readers will recognize and empathize with the clumsy little beetle’s eagerness to learn what the older beetle can already do so well. They will understand, too, its frustration when at first it fails. And they will surely rejoice in its eventual spectacular triumph.

Does A Kangaroo Have A Mother, Too?, 2000 Meet the little joey, whose kangaroo mother carries him in her pouch. See the cygnet riding on the back of the mother swan. Eric Carle’s colorful collages of animal babies with their caring and affectionate mothers offer small readers visual delight as well as comforting reassurance.

Dream Snow, 2000 It’s Christmas Eve, and an old farmer settles down for nap, wondering how Christmas can come when it hasn't snowed yet. The farmer falls asleep and in his dream, he imagines snowflakes covering him and his animals. He awakens to discover it really has snowed. A surprise at the end of the book makes this a truly magical Christmas.

“Slowly, Slowly, Slowly,” said the Sloth, 2002 Slowly, slowly, slowly... that’s how the sloth lives. He hangs upside-down from the branch of a tree, night and day, in the sun and in the rain, while the other animals of the rain forest rush past him. “Why are you so slow? Why are you so quiet? Why are you so lazy?” the others ask the sloth. And, after a long, long time, the sloth finally tells them!.

Where Are You Going? To See My Friend!, 2003 A dog, a cat, a rooster, a goat, a rabbit, and finally a child join together on a journey to see their friends in this unique bilingual collaboration that unites cultures and languages.

Panda Bear, Panda Bear, What Do You See? written by Bill Martin Jr, 2003 Panda Bear, Panda Bear, What Do You See? is told from the point of view of endangered creatures, and one dreaming child; each page a tribute to wild animals and their freedom.

Mister Seahorse, 2004 Mister Seahorse and fellow fish fathers who care for their soon-to-be-hatched offspring, share their stories while acetate pages reveal camouflaged creatures who bear witness to the conversation between fathers with fins.

10 Little Rubber Ducks, 2005 10 Little Rubber Ducks fall overboard and land on shores all around the world. Inspired by the true story of these ducks at sea, Eric Carle has imagined their voyage in the wide open waters and the creatures they meet who live in and around the ocean.

Baby Bear, Baby Bear, What Do You See?, 2007 Join Baby Bear as he sets out to look for his beloved Mama Bear, meeting a diverse cast of North American animals along the way. Readers of all ages will enjoy the rich, colorful illustrations and heartfelt story of this last collaboration in a series that has helped millions learn to read.

The Artist who Painted a Blue Horse, 2011  

FRIENDS, 2013  

The Nonsense Show, 2015  

[tinymixtapes]

Live Blog: FYF Fest 2017

FYF Fest 2017 Exposition Park; Los Angeles, CA [July 21-23, 2017 ] by Derek Smith on 08-07-2017 FYF Fest popped another cherry this year, adding a third day upon which they splayed a virtual cavalcade of musical ingenues stacked so thick that navigating from set to set felt like a continuous game of Sophie’s Choice. Almost immediately earning forgiveness for the cruel joke of starting anything, let alone a major festival, at 5 pm on a Friday in Los Angeles, FYF brought Björk to the main stage a mere few hours later, soon to be followed by Slowdive and Missy Elliott. There were simply too many amazing acts to stay mad at the occasional shortcoming. Any of the festival’s three days would have made a fantastic month of shows separately, but together, the lineup both contrasted and complimented itself in a variety of strange and wonderful ways. Whether or not the growing pains of the fest’s expansion in recent years are gone forever remains to be seen, but this year was, for me, the most fun and rewarding FYF. --- Day 1: Ascension Photo: FYF Fest Goldenvoice Media Having braved the traffic to catch the fest’s often-solid lineup during early-bird hours, I started with Royal Headache, four Aussie garage-rockers whose consistently solid, yet not particularly remarkable, output has yet to land them much of a following on this side of the pond. Lead singer Shogun’s fiery, soulful vocals were too low in the mix, but once that was sorted out, the band made the most of the brief set. Their infectious blend of melodic, brutally efficient songwriting and a generous tendency to bleed one song into the next led to an increasingly large and receptive crowd. Like their albums, a little of Headache’s feverish energy goes a long way, making their 40-minute set a perfectly succinct boost of energy to get everyone’s juices flowing at the start of the weekend. On my way to swing by the Outer Space stage to catch what I could of Kelly Lee Owens’ set, I faced my first major dilemma. I wanted to see K-Lee work her magic but also wanted to get as close as humanly possible to Björk at the typically packed main stage. And although I spent about half of the 25 minutes I caught of Owens checking the time and worrying about the next set, her infectious beats and soothingly ethereal vocals eventually ran through my blood like an aural xanax that allowed me to lose myself for a few minutes. And then it was onto Björk, a moment I’d been dreaming of since I was a teenager. The meager 45 minutes I waited for her felt like an eternity, and the anticipation of what she would play, what she’d sound like, and if she’d even show at all was enough to give me a heart arrhythmia. To say this was a holy-grail show devalues how important Björk has been to my growth as a fan of music and art in general. Björk was my musical gateway drug to everything from Kate Bush to Aphex Twin, but more importantly, her music opened a portal to untapped and unexplored thoughts and emotions. And her music videos were consistently thrilling in their inventive, experimental cinematic techniques, helping to open my mind to new possibilities of visual art. Photo: Santiago Felipe for FYF Fest It’s difficult to express the feeling of watching someone so important to you walk out on stage for the first time, especially as in the third row, this was probably as close as I’d ever been to an idol of mine. But there was a constant chill running down my spine, a sense of wonderment ― both at what exactly her multi-colored shower exfoliator-style dress with neon green see-through Predator/Venetian mask was all about, and the fact that she was right. fucking. there ― filling my soul, and a consistent feeling of being outside myself. From the first note of “Stonemilker” to the final note of “Hyperballad,” I was in awe of how powerful and penetrating her voice is. Backed by a full orchestra and a screen with clips of her videos, Björk was everything I hoped she’d be and more. My only small gripe would be that none of the 15 songs she performed were from Vespertine, but there were samplings of most other albums, the highlights of which were “Joga” and “Unravel” from Homogenic, “Isobel” and “Hyperballad” from Post, and “Come to Me” from Debut. It was a masterful, transcendent performance by one of the most important artists of the last quarter-century. To follow Björk is indeed a Herculean task, one only an immensely talented outfit like Slowdive should ever take on. Although they were performing on a different stage, they functioned as a perfect comedown from the emotional high that preceded. That’s not meant as a slight on Slowdive, who also are one of my favorite bands and who I’d only seen once before a few years back at FYF 2014. Their set was dependably impressive, with neither surprises nor missteps, and their dreamy, shimmering guitars filled the night sky in a way that invited contemplation, which allowed for a brief reprieve from the intensity of the festival. They played exactly what you’d want them to play ― “Catch the Breeze” off Just for a Day, “Allison,” “Souvlaki Space Station,” and “When the Sun Hits” off Souvlaki, and a healthy sampling of their fantastic new self-titled album. They do what they do really fucking well. Missy Elliott was sadly underwhelming, but the quality of the prior bands left me unreceptive to Missy’s incessant self-flagellation, which went so far to include several minutes of interviews on the big screens with artists talking about how visionary she is, and repeated mentions of Janet Jackson, Beyonce, and Tyler the Creator being in the crowd. To be fair, I got there just after the set started and was a couple hundred yards from the stage, so it was ultimately like viewing a spectacle that someone filmed on a cell phone. Still, in the brief stretch I saw, “Get Ur Freak On” and “Work It” were quite a bit of fun so maybe I would’ve been down for more had she not taken five minutes between songs to chat about herself. --- Day 2: In the Shit Photo: FYF Fest Goldenvoice Media Of course my dog would choose the first night of FYF to have a case of explosive diarrhea that led to me getting very little sleep, four hours at the emergency vet the next morning, and a nice fat $500 bill hovering over my head. I was exhausted and by the mid-afternoon, I’d accepted that day 2 would likely be a wash. I don’t deal well with sleep deprivation and the fest’s setting, Exposition Park, surrounds USC’s Coliseum on all sides so there’s a good four-to-five miles of walking to be done each day. But I had a plan for the day and, unlike Frank Ocean, I don’t bail on festivals. The day began with Built To Spill playing Keep It Like a Secret so things turned around for me pretty quickly. This is the first time I’ve seen them play live as a trio, with Doug Martsch providing the only non-bass guitar. While their sound was slightly thinner sans the layered guitars that helped define their sound, the stripped-down approach worked wonderfully in the context of covering one of their best albums. I made sure to get there early enough snag a front-row spot, and it paid off. Their set was surprisingly intimate; it helps when most of the songs are flat-out brilliant, but with Martsch having to do a lot of heavy lifting, it gave me an even greater appreciation for his skills as a guitarist and song-writer. In the kind of major tonal shift you only get in the festival environment, I headed over to the main stage to catch A Tribe Called Quest since, as Q-Tip would confirm, this is possibly the last time Tribe will be out making the rounds. But damn, did they make sure it was a hell of a show even without Phife on-stage. It was respectful to his legacy and importance as a founder, but also was as much a celebration of Tribe as a mourning of his loss. Q was especially on fire, spitting verses like he was 27 not 47, and the breaks he took to talk about Phife were humble, thoughtful, and moving, adding a layer of emotional resonance to Tribe’s performance. The crowd was incredibly receptive to the remaining trio’s still-brilliant chemistry and uncanny ability to flow from one song to next, as a building energy flowed through their killer encore of “Can I Kick It?”, “Award Tour,” and “We the People…”. As amazing as the set was, it makes Phife’s passing sting even more. Like Björk, Erykah Badu’s voice live is even better than you can imagine, and she took remarkable command of the stage. It was a true work of Baduizm as she set a positive, contemplative vibe upon which she laid out her psychedelic soul with a measured intensity. As painful as it was to check out early, Frank Ocean was up next and unlike 2015’s FYF and seemingly most other live dates, he showed up to this one. To get a feel for the oddness of Frank’s performance, you have to imagine how gargantuan the main stage is. Its huge monitors and enormous backdrop, with several football fields of pavement in front of which one performs to a sea of people, is a spectacle, and Frank transformed it into something completely different. Walking out on a platform between the VIP and GA sections, Frank began singing with just a keyboard and a microphone on stage with him. Even the monitors were off at first before eventually being filled with footage currently being shot by the two cameramen around him. It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop when he wasn’t singing ― an eerie feeling when you’re surrounded by thousands of fans waiting with baited breath. It was a performance boiled down to the essentials ― a voice, a keyboard, and the occasional guitar or bass from his small backing band. In other words, the transition from the vibrant Channel Orange to the introspective Blonde is complete. “Thinking About You” is the only song from the prior album he played, and even that was performed with a more minimal arrangement. It was heavy on Blonde tracks, touching on all its heavy hitters like “Solo,” “Nikes,” and “Pink + White.” He even cavalierly brought Brad Pitt on stage during “Close to You” because Spike Jonze was filming the performance, presumably for a music video. But there was no mention of it, no hype, no excess. It wasn’t an overwhelming performance, but it certainly was an admirable one, and when Frank wasn’t happy with the way his debut of two new songs, “Runnin Around” and “Good Guy,” sounded, he apologized and asked if he could do them again. It was like watching Frank Ocean perform in his bedroom, if his bedroom were the size of an aircraft carrier. --- Day 3: Innerbody Experience Photo: FYF Fest Goldenvoice Media By day 3, I was rested and fully hydrated. I had never seen Iggy Pop live, but his energy and antics as a live performer precede him beyond merely “inventing” the stage dive or laying the groundwork for punk with his three albums with The Stooges. Like Björk, Pop is an icon, a figure whose presence is magnetic whether right in front of you or on a 5-inch screen. And when that presence burst on stage to “I Want To Be Your Dog,” he might as well have been shot out of a cannon. I was a few rows back but still close enough to count the wrinkles in his leathery skin, and the second he was visible, a wave of people rushed forward like moths to a flame. It was already packed, but that first two minutes was a thrilling combination of adrenaline from the explosion of energy on stage and a bit of fear at the unknowable insanity that threatened to swallow me whole from behind. And where Björk’s performance was something of an out-of-body experience, Pop’s was raw and physical. Even during lighter tunes like “The Passenger,” there was an overarching sensation of aggression, as if the crowd was waiting to release its collective tension in an awkward combination of swirling, gyrating, and jumping bodies. Pop also stuck a microphone down his pants and skipped around, and there was a crowd-surfing panda and an obscene amount of fist-pumping. For an hour, the crowd was putty in Iggy’s hands and, for an hour, we were rewarded with a furious onslaught of powerful, jaw-clenching music. Nothing quite matched the fire-breathing intensity of the “I Wanna Be Your Dog” opener, but “TV Eye” was fantastic (and nearly half the set consisted of Stooges songs) as was, of course, “Lust for Life,” but there wasn’t a moment where the magic dimmed. Realizing that Pop is still up there jumping around like a maniac at 70 is inspiring. It also makes me feel incredibly lame for complaining that my feet hurt after walking 3-4 miles, but we can’t all be Iggy Pop. Drenched in sweat, I climbed out of the sea of bodies, dazed and ecstatic from the catharsis. I had already got what I came for, but I powered through to the little stage where Blonde Redhead happened to be performing my favorite album of theirs, Melody of a Certain Damaged Lemons. I haven’t listened to much of the band in the last decade, and I’m fairly certain I didn’t get to even a second spin of Penny Sparkle or Barragan, but to my pleasant surprise I took right to them. It happened to be the perfect chill, nostalgic comedown after the draining fever dream which came before it, and the band sounded as good live as I had remembered. And as nice as it was to hear songs I once loved and hadn’t heard in years; as soon as they finished the Melody album, I meandered over to the nearby chicken-and-waffle place while their new music played them off in the distance. Photo: FYF Fest Goldenvoice Media As great as FYF was as a whole, going out on an insanely high note was not meant to be. I have friends who are die-hard Nine Inch Nails fans, and while I really enjoy about 1/3 of their music, I’m fairly indifferent about the rest. But their fans are fiercely loyal, so there was a bit of second-hand fandom flowing through my lungs once Trent & Co. took the stage. It doesn’t hurt that Reznor has, in recent years, been involved with some pretty great film scores with Atticus Ross and, more importantly, appeared with Nine Inch Nails in one of the greatest television episodes of all time, the 8th episode of Twin Peaks: The Return. And while I went in part because there wasn’t another option, they ended up being pretty damn entertaining. Every time they veer toward whatever their nu-metal sound is, I checked out, but “March of the Pigs,” “Something I Can Never Have,” and “Closer” were all wonderfully rendered. And in a moment of quietude, Reznor paid tribute to David Bowie with an achingly tender, minimal rendition of “I Can’t Give Everything Away.” The set was only 2/3 over, but there wouldn’t be a better note to end on, so there I left through the mass of people to the outskirts of the fest, where I’d wait for my Lyft home with the final notes of yet another fest dwindling ever-so-slightly in the distant background. See you again another year, FYF. I only hope the best is not now behind me. http://j.mp/2veKl5g

[phidiaspickle]

For @foldingstars295

Gemini - QUICK-WITTEDNESS PERSPICACITY FLEXIBILITY

VERSATILITY PERFORMANCE DEXTERITY

Monkey - IMPROVISATION CUNNING STABILITY SELF-INVOLVEMENT WIT

OPPORTUNISM

“I think”    Air, Mercury, Mutable

“I plan”     Positive Metal, Yin

IMPA TIENCE GLIBNESS INCONSTANCY SELF-DECEPTION SUPERFICIALITY INDECISIVENESS

DECEIT RUSE LOQUACITY LEADERSHIP SILLINESS ZEAL

Monkeys and Geminis resemble each other, I always used to say. When I consider the energy level of this New Astrology sign, it’s as though someone took twelve Monkeys, piled them on top of a dozen sets of twins, tailed a couple of Rolls-Royce jet engines and then let‘er rip. These people never cease moving. In fact, I wonder if Gemini/Monkeys ever sleep. Gemini/Monkeys love to talk. They need to perform, and even, I afraid, to show off. For this reason, Gemini/Monkeys enjoy entertaining and watching others have a good time. They plan giant festivals and feasts complete with hand-opened oysters and lobsters flown in from the farthest reaches of the earth.

A Gemini/Monkey bash is a guaranteed jolly time for all, your all-time unforgettable pig-out of a lifetime, your best party memory ever— until of course next week, when Gemini/Monkey will be throwing a far more sedate party. This time he’s only inviting seventy very select friends. “We will begin at six with a wine-tasting. I’ve brought in a sommelier from the Tour d’Argent. After that there’ll the balloon rides. We have to do that before it gets dark. ...” The attractions are endless. Gemini/Monkey excess knows no frontiers. If you have a Gemini/Monkey for a friend you’ll never be bored again.

With all of this apparent folderol comes the best aptitude of all—genius. Yes. Gemini/Monkeys are always brilliant. Not only do they have active, vivid minds, that can make quantum leaps in a single bound. Gemini/Monkeys have wildly creative spirits. They are always on to some new breakthrough idea that will revolutionize the horse-racing industry—and they may not even be vaguely connected to horses. But one day were watching a horse race and it popped into their heads that if such and such were so and so, then maybe the races wouldn’t have to be thus and such. Gemini/Monkeys are addicted to improvisational living. They hate to do the same thing twice in the same way, and therefore spend time imagining new solutions.

There’s a bit of the snob in our friend the Gemini/Monkey too. As he enjoys everything bigger and better and grander and smarter, a touch of class, he feels, never hurt anybody. You can count on the Gemini/Monkey to have at least one fast car in his garage, an elegant brand of dog and an equally chic and very proper mate. The accoutrements are part of the show—and with Gemini/Monkeys the show is life itself.

Don’t think Gemini/Monkeys are as light-headed as they are lighthearted. These are self-reliant, responsible independents who are not averse to buckling to a hard day at the office or a heavy single-handed spring cleaning. They know how to do such a variety of different tasks at once that watching them work is akin to viewing a master juggler in the center ring. Gemini/Monkey can delegate authority well. And he doesn’t belie being bossy in order to get people to work for him.

This person is a born iconoclast. Rules, he thinks, are made to be broken, flouted, torn up and written anew. Smashing idols is to the Gemini/Monkey only the first step in true progress. If he can’t prove that a fusty old rule is dull and simple-minded by mere logic and a bit of persuasion, then he will make short work of testing that brittle old law. Don’t ever tell a Gemini/Monkey not to ride his bike in a hospital corridor or you will soon see him cruising down the hall in Ward III.

The rule-breaking this subject gets up to can cause him some trouble. He is not a crook or a criminal. But he could very well be called a troublemaker by higher-ups. Generally his genius saves him from destruction by those too serious to see beyond their own belly-button. They know he’s impossible. But he’s so necessary to their cause that won’t let him go. Exile is one tactic used in trying to discipline the Gemini/Monkey. But no matter which remote boondock they banish him to, the Gemini/Monkey will come up giggling and raring to try his skill at some new implausible scheme.

Love

This is no ordinary lover. The Gemini/Monkey is a demanding and insistent gourmet of affection. He needs constant attention and will stop at nothing to have the spotlight permanently turned his way. It is this person’s ingenious charm that eventually seduces those he courts with such craft. How would you respond if your beau placed a diamond ring in the bottom of your bubbling champagne glass? How would you like to be presented with a shiny red sports car just because you caught the Gemini/Monkey’s eye at a dinner party? The bigger, the better. All’s fair in love—and in war? Well, Gemini/Monkeys don’t take well to amorous conflict. They like their romance clear-cut and without ghosts.

Loving a Gemini/Monkey is not particularly complicated, though. You simply have to be willing to spend your whole life standing blind-folded on the very tip of a very springy diving board with a strong wind blowing from behind. That’s all. Just stand there and quake. Of course you also have to do all the dirty work because Genius is too busy blowing up balloons for the party to remember to wash the dishes. But never mind, what you get in return is full-time nonstop fun and games. If you like show biz, the Gemini/Monkey is definitely your kind of mate.

If you have a Gemini/Monkey in your life and feel a lot like shooting him or her from time to time, I can certainly understand. The Gemini born in a Monkey year is an exhausting challenge to the sedate people he often chooses to love. Yet, there is so much joy in the best moments spent with this dynamo of imagination that all I can advise is—great, unflagging patience. If a Gemini/Monkey loves you, hold on tight. You’re in for the ride of the century.

Compatibilities

Why don’t you take up with a Libra/Rat or Dragon? Your senses of humor match well. Aries/Dragons and Monkeys are good for you too, as are Leo/Rats and Aquarius/Dragons. You’ll fail miserably if you try to woo a Virgo/Tiger or Snake, a Sagittarian Ox, Snake or Dog. Worse still would be the spotlight-grabbing Capricorn/Snake. You want all the attention, remember?

Home and Family

Gemini/Monkeys like to have all sorts of different homes. They dream of living in the mountains part of the year, in the tropics another, and then again in Rome or Milan or why not Morocco? Wherever they go, Gemini/Monkeys are quick to settle in, claim the loveliest hut for their own and set about inviting a zillion people in for a smorgasbord.

Although they are fond of luxury and class, Gemini/Monkeys cannot be accused of trying to impress with their wealth. To them, an environment should bespeak the understated elegance of a fine leather easy chair and expensive lived-in carpets six inches thick.

As a parent, the Gemini/Monkey is extremely serious. He may have many children and will love them and tend to them with equal kindness and understanding. He doesn’t, however, like being misused, and reacts badly to any relative, child or otherwise, who tries to dupe or trick him. The Gemini/Monkey possesses enormous guile himself. But he tends not to apply it to cheating those he loves. He’s a fabulous friend, faithful and out-on-a-limb involved with his old pals and cronies. He never forgets people with whom he’s had fun.

The Gemini/Monkey child is a handful. Hyperactivity is not unusual in these kids. They must be directed and disciplined into applying talents and using up each day’s energy that day. Otherwise, they may keep you up all night. Sports, music lessons, clubs and-- most of all—theatrical experiences will both please and excite the Gemini/Monkey child. Keep the never-a-dull-moment Gemini/Monkey busy and I guarantee you your child will be happy. Pay attention to him when he has achieved. But don’t give him too much free applause.

Profession

This person is gifted in very serious, intricate and difficult roles in life. He can be anything from a cancer research specialist to a high-minded theatrical director. But this person thrives on change, variation and diversification. Truly, the Gemini/Monkey is the most mutable of all the mutable signs. No matter what he does it must involve the opportunity to invent, to innovate, to create new methods and points of view. He is vibrant and full of mercurial mental motion. He must never be stuck in a dull office or forced to work in a bank or any confining place. The Gemini/Monkey cannot tolerate isolation. He likes space and requires company and attention from coworkers. As a boss or director of operations, this person will manage very well. People are attracted to the antics of the Gemini/Monkey and if he is careful to surround himself with a loving audience, he will never have to use force or coercion to see that work is done. Even at his silliest, even when he’s rolling around laughing at fate and the damned rules, the Gemini/Monkey still inspires admiration and respect in his “subjects.”

Some celebrated Gemini/Monkeys: Paul Gauguin, the Marquis de Sade, Ian Fleming, the Duchess of Windsor, Alain Souchon, Bjorn Borg, Helen O’Connell, Peggy Lee, Pierre Daninos, Venus Williams, Yves Robert.