#i still have no idea how to write a conclusion for a dance critique

[bartholomewthestudyduck]

10/06/2024

I've completed my first college dance concert! And it went really well, even though I had to go on for the piece I understudy for. Anyways, performance week meant I had no time for homework, so I did my entire dance critique paper today. I also meant to work on my presentation that's due this week, but that did not happen, so I'll be doing it tomorrow.

[cat-psychic]

Recently I’ve been taking a poetry class where we have to critique eachothers work, and I’ve noticed that almost every poem I’ve read has been sad. They’re all about social issues or discrimination or death or trauma. The only exceptions are poems about romantic love and desire, of which there have been two or three, but they’re still extraordinarily outclassed by the sad ones. Now love and death being the two most common subjects of poetry is a pretty well understood thing, and young adults who write poetry just being an edgy bunch is certainly part of it, but I think there’s something more going on here. 

I’ve taken enough lit classes to know that the books assigned in them do not tend to be happy ones. Anything near-contemporary you read is guaranteed to be depressing, and while a books age will sometimes let a wry, often political comedy sneak through, you’ll always be made to read it through such an analytical, often again, depressing lens, that a lot of the jokes loose their meaning. And when you write, you’re encouraged to do it in much the same way- poignant, dark, realistic pieces on the state of the world. I

 especially notice it in books centering around some sort of oppressed/minority group- in all my years of lit courses, I don’t think I ever read a book with a female protagonist where being a girl was portrayed as “fun”. And yeah, don’t get me wrong, discrimination exists and impacts people and is a HUGE PROBLEM, but at the same time I wouldn’t equate my personal experience of “being a girl” to “constant suffering” –which, if you were going off of these books only, might be the conclusion you draw. And while this is a big topic that I’m simplifying greatly, I think a persons only literary experience regarding an oppressed group (their own or others) revolving around how much being a part of that group SUCKS is a reductive and plain out depressing concept. And since those are the stories that are held aloft, it forces writers belonging to those groups to write stories about the oppression they’ve faced rather than literally any other topic if they want their stories to be promoted and seen. And this extends out of professional spheres back to students. There’s been some recent discussions of how the college application essays encourage students to write about and thus revisit their trauma, turning trying to get a  college education into some sort of sadness contest. And while I don’t think whats happening in my poetry class is anything quite that sinister, I think at the end of the day it’s rooted in the same problem: The subconcious idea that stories about darkness are inherently more valuable.

And that’s something I take personal problem with. I think it’s based around the idea that “dark” somehow equals “more realistic”, which is untrue. While life can be cruel and dark and serious, life can also be joyous and thrilling and just plain out stupid. And those silly fun moments are just as important as the dark ones! Hell, maybe even more so! There is innate beauty in random chance, fun surprises, friendship and love. Life is a constant see-sawing between the happy and sad. Even during very happy times, watching a sad movie can make you cry. At your most depressed, you’ll still ocassionally find yourself laughing at somebody elses dumb joke. There is a constant cycle of gain and loss. One can’t exist without the other, and that in and of itself is poetry! 

Saying one feeling is more important than the other is about as silly as saying red is more important than blue. Hell, beyond joy and sadness, look at confusion, anger, friendship, satisfaction, embarrassment, sleepyness, deja vu, weird coincidences, dancing, your first crush, injokes, brainfreeze, an obsession with dinosaurs, whatever! Yes, write tragic, edgy, or serious stuff too when you want to. Heaven knows I do. But don’t put yourself in a box. Meaning can be found in strange places, and one of the joys of poetry is reading something that you would never have guessed hits as hard as it does. And if something hits you, no matter how weird, you can bet somehow, somewhere in the world, it’ll connect to someone else in the same way.

Don’t give a shit if people say what you feel doesn’t matter, be stupid, have fun, and write!

[silverswanqueen]

I mostly disliked RWBY since V3 because the dark turn and how they went about it I just subjectively didn't like(I was expecting it to be more akin to Harry Potter or Avatar The Last Airbender) and now its seems like its going through the same song and dance I've seen with Fate: Zero, Akame Ga Kill, Madoka Magica and Gen Urobuchi's other works. I get the points of those works, being righteous, moral, and noble in the face of tragedy, but I've just grown tired of it. But so many stans have built their ego and identity around these works that they can't allow anyone to openly and subjectively not like something anymore. And holy shit have I never felt the brunt of that than from the RWBY loyalists.

idk I'm not pretending I am speaking objectively here, but I feel like the very fact RWBY seems to becoming this kind of dark is what's drawing blind fanatics who hold it up as one of their secular religious texts and Monty as one of their patron saints, with the other works and writers being their other texts and prophets respectively

"It's awesome because its tragic and well-earned happy endings are bad"

One wonders how Inuyasha, Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, Harry Potter, The Star Wars Original Trilogy, or even Bram Stoker’s Dracula or Hammer's "The Devil Rides Out" would be received if they were made today and not back in the day.

Thanks for the ask and I hope my rambling isn’t confusing!

I definitely get where you’re coming from, and while I’m not familiar with Gen Urobuchi’s works I’ve seen the name enough to know there’s definitely a correlation there. I for one wasn’t necessarily upset with V3’s conclusion, but I was also much younger, didn’t have an attachment to Penny or Pyrrha like many did, and thought more would be done with the characters than what was accomplished. However, I recently did some research for my academics similar to this phenomena which I believe I can apply! However, I cannot say my explanation of it is the be all end all, because I cannot account for every RWBY fan who exhibits this behavior, so take it as you will haha.

There’s a certain pocket of literature/media that focuses on what’s referred to as the “Grimmdark,” I believe, and I’ve seen shows fall back into this phenomena of “everything must be hopeless and tragic, every victory must be pyrrhic,” and while that’s definitely a narrative you can go with, it’s spread to multiple fan bases and media over recent years. This narrative is an “infection,” since lots of social phenomena can be synonymous with an infecting trait. I compare it to Teresa Brennan’s “Transmission of Affect,” a huge study on social phenomena and how (and this is me paraphrasing) humans respond physically to social situations, meaning while the “process” is social and origin, its effects are “biological and physical,” which we can see with RWBY loyalists. They respond to the Grimmdark social infection and alter themselves (i.e. identification and physical response) to require this sort of social engagement. This altering of self is done unconsciously, and while I don’t want to get into the agency of self, the self is affected by environment, and the environment of the Grimmdark, as a result, directly influences the self. They are “infected” with the Grimmdark, and thus must engage with it. Now this isn’t bad, since the transmission of affect exists and works on all of us in many ways, but it can breed some negative results, and I think the RWBY fandom is one of them.

Now, to preface here, I’m not bashing Monty. I was still an avid fan when he passed, and I still look up to Monty to this day because of his talent and passion as an animator. But Monty… he wasn’t what I would call the best storyteller, because he was very impulsive. He would think of something, hot potato it to Miles and Kerry, and sometimes the additions would break canon a bit. Add this in with the transmission of affect which has already been in the works with the Grimmdark storytelling for some time, and it eventually attracts those “infected” by it, and as a result, breeds a toxic environment. It’s completely fine to like the Grimmdark and be, as I say, “infected” by it, but to allow this fascination with it to declare a subjective view of how storytelling should be as objective is the exact issue the fan base of RWBY has.

RWBY has fundamental writing flaws and thrown in ideas that aren’t implemented in such a way to flow coherently with the rest of the currently set narrative and world-building, and often breaks the canon that leaves the loyalists scrambling to pick up the splinters and create headcanons that allow the world-building to remain untarnished for them. This is what causes the disconnect, because those that cling to the Grimmdark as the objectively correct way to tell a story are not only trying to say it must be dark, but also the way it was written, aka the method in which we’ve gotten to this dark conclusion, is the way it must be. This is where the issue is, because they see criticism as an attack on the Grimmdark and not a critique of the writing mechanics utilized within the Grimmdark.

Subjective criticism is suddenly viewed as attacks on things that are objective. And this is one of the huge problems that many fanatics won’t understand they’re perpetuating, or simply don’t care that they are perpetuating this issue. The Grimmdark is fine, but the Grimmdark is not the be all end all of storytelling.

I could ramble more, but this is getting a bit lengthy. Essentially, yes, you’re right, they cannot allow someone to subjectively dislike it, because to them, there’s nothing subjective about it.

[2idiots]

Keep Yourself Alive

pt. 27 // pt. 28⚛ // pt. 29

NCT Frat Social Media AU // College Athlete & Fratboy Lucas x reader

Word count: 1872ish

Warning: a little angsty, mentions of chronic pain, insecurities, kinda cringey, also text pictures meshed in with writing just a heads up

It’s not that you weren’t interested in all the hell week practices that coach planned for the swim team, in fact you were fascinated by the sets your old coach was giving out.  In fact you didn’t want to be in this dark room away from everyone else out in the living room drinking, playing games, and eating all the food Johnny has painstakingly prepared. You wanted to be out there getting drunk on two cups of eggnog like Hyunjin, the friend you just barely met before leaving the swim team. But for the first time since deciding to fly across the world for college with your best friend you had to dip out of your Christmas tradition. Sure it wasn't intentional but that didn't stop the tearing feeling in the pit of your chest from blooming. You may have felt horrible physically but the mental strain of not being able to be out there performing your best attempt at normal for something that was so important was that much worse. 

Were those tears wetting your cheeks? No. Those were allergies, you couldn’t be crying. Who knew pollen was so bad in the winter?

The seconds had turned into minutes and 15 minutes later you were still laying on Johnny’s bed in the dark, feeling like someone sucker punched your heart, and other parts, curled into his sheets with only the harsh light emitting from your phone screen. You had taken one of the pain meds the doctor gave you but it had yet to kick in. You should've taken it sooner, if anyone knew your body it was you and you knew you should've take it earlier, then you could stand out there and attempt normal alongside your friends. But somewhere deep down you were hoping that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t need some painkiller to go about mingling. Yu were wrong and now you were reaping the consequences of that decision. 

But above all else, you were worried that Lucas would show up at the party while you were holed away in the fetal position in your best friend’s bed. Stupid, right? Here you were, organs cementing themselves together, and yet all you could think about was some boy you had only known for a few months. But if he showed up you knew somehow you were going to have to explain yourself, something you had been dreading since night one.

Lucas had already texted you to tell you he was running a little bit late so you had a bit of time to figure something out or get out but that was nearly 30 minutes ago; he could only be so far behind. Any minute he was bound to be walking through Johnny and Mark's front door with one of his dopey grins, scanning the room for the person who invited him and coming up empty handed.

Wow you were the worst host of all time. At least Chan and Hyunjin had each other but Lucas was on his own. Here without a host. Sure he could visit with Jaehyun or Ten but they had obviously come without him for some reason considering they all lived together.

God hold it together! If you could take exams with your survival brain activated then you could handle one boy. Too much anxiety and your brain was jumping from conclusion to conclusion, problem to problem. Organs cementing together: check. Composure melting: check.

Three sharp knocks jolted you out of your downward spiral, followed by a soft voice, “Y/n can I come in?” The soft voice that had been at the root of your anxiety. 

Wow, who knew blood pressure could skyrocket that high? 

“Y/n?” The question was followed by a quick ping from your phone. Quietly, wiping the few stray tears off your cheek, you looked back to the harsh screen. 

It only took a few moments for the door to slowly creak open, the glow from all the Christmas lights in the living room casting a soft light across Johnny's bed. In that time you managed to suck in a few deep breaths and zip up your pants, wearing jeans with this bloat was not a good idea.

He was quiet, sinking into the other half of the bed while you laying on the other side facing away. Too quiet. The silence was making you nervous.

Then there was another ping at your phone. Sending a vibration through your hand: what was he doing?

You let out a bleat of laughter, what was he doing?

There was another moment of uncomfortable silence, you smiling into your phone screen as he tried to find more ways to make you laugh again, before he finally asked, out loud this time: "Is it your thingy?" His voice wasn't too far from yours and you could tell he was still sitting from the dip in the mattress.

"My thingy?"

"You know that thing you had surgery for? Does it hurt?"

You flipped over to look at him, even though you could barely see him with the dim lighting, the only glow coming from the cracks under the door and between the curtains. "You mean my appendix? Did you already forget everything I taught you?" You laughed with a soft smile that you hoped he could hear in your tone. 

In the darkness, his eyes search the room for yours landing only on your blurry dark outline. "Yeah your aerobics."

"Appendix." You corrected, another smile cracking through your self-wallowing.

There were two ways this could go over. You could lie, say it is the appendix that in all honesty hadn't hurt much since you got it out, the doctor said something about a high pain tolerance, or you could tell the truth and face the thing you have been dreading most since spending more time with him. He deserved the truth.

"Um not quite," your tone was hesitant and slow, though it wasn't him bolting you were afraid of it, it was you. "I uh, I am in pain right now. Actually, um, I’m in pain a lot of the time." You felt a hot tear slip down your cheek, dammit not again. "And it's uh, it's why I ran away from you on Halloween and, um, it's why I have to cancel a lot of our plans."

He was quiet across from you but you could feel his hand searching across the blankets for something, maybe yours?

"I'm so sorry. You came for a Christmas party and I'm crying to you in my best friend's bed." Wow what a catch. "If you wanna leave it's ok, I understand."

"Nah, I think I'll just chill in here with you," he laid down next to you, finally finding your hand and fitting it into his. "And anyway Mark is out there yelling about a journalist turned babysitter turned tutor turned princess teaching a prince about quote true christmas spirit, so I'd rather be in here." 

"That's an iconic Christmas movie, watch your words Yukhei." You chastised playfully, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand. The warmth from his hand was eating away at some of the anxiety, though you were still trembling.

"Ah yeah, did I say boring, I meant super interesting and exciting," he grinned, replacing your hand with his own to wipe your tears. What the hell? "Watching anything with you is exciting." When did he get this smooth?

"Yeah whatever. I know for a fact you fell asleep in Mathilda too." As cheesy as he was, this tall star basketball player was making your heart race so fast it felt like it was about to escape from your chest.

"Hey I came from practice, it's not my fault coach took all our energy!" 

You swatted playfully at him as the conversation lulled, because despite the laughter and his hand, all those negative thoughts were still swirling around in the back of your head eager to rear their face. Muttering, almost too soft for him to hear you choked out, "I'm sorry I can't be what you want."

"What? Who told you that?" He rolled over to face you, even though he couldn't see you all that clearly. "I've been trying to tell you for weeks now that I like you. If only you didn't change the subject right away. Y/n I like you. I like you a lot. Honestly I liked you that first night at Halloween when you were rambling about the night sky and all your dreams. I didn't expect to actually talk to someone at that party but then there you were on the couch, critiquing Doyoung’s music but also dancing to it and enjoying yourself?"

A blush spread through your cheeks and down your neck, leaving fire in its path. "Oh God, I was really high on halloween and a little drunk. I hope I wasn't too harsh on the critiques, though I should’ve known it was Doyoung. The music was pretty run of the mill. I mean Ariana Grande remixes? Seriously, what kind of party is that?" They're was a long pause that you felt the need to cover up with a quick justification "that wasn't a rhetorical--" 

"--can I kiss you?"

He was facing you, you could tell by his soft breath and how he seemed to fold into you. "Why?" Good god if your friends could hear you right now evading again, they would smack you.

"Because I like you!" When you tried to protest, he just tutted and repeated, "I like you, even if you are in pain."

Oh that's why you were so nervous, hearing that. Also you could feel the soft outline of his lips lightly brushing yours, combine that with the fact that the tether to your pain seemed to be loosening up as the painkillers kicked in. You would never feel perfect but this did give you enough of a confidence boost to close the gap, kissing him like your very life depended on it. This boy, those lips, these feelings; they would be the death of you. 

Pulling away to catch your breath, unable to form the words you wanted too, you knew you weren't done explaining yourself. There was more to your pain, more to apologize for how you let your fear dictate your time with him. "I need to tell you first, when I say I'm in pain I don't mean like some achy broad pain. I ran away on Halloween because a lot of the time sex hurts and my high was fading and I knew I couldn't stay. It was already a bad decision but I just wanted to feel like a regular kid and you were so nice, a little dopey with that fake blonde wig but still really hot. What I'm trying to say is: it's not just my head or my stomach,  it's those parts too. The parts that we started with. And those are important to people. And I like you, I like you so much but I'm not some normal girl. There are going to be days when I can't leave the bed or can't go out with you or be, um, intimate with you and there might be a lot of those days. I have some baggage that's a little more physical so if you wanna bolt I get it. You probably want someone who can do everything you want, so this is me showing you the door." You made a broad gesture to sweep to the door. These were your fears laying out for him to see if he looked close enough. Maybe you weren't enough for him or anyone for that matter. 

"Nah, I think I'll stay here. Maybe I can ask Johnny if he's got Mathilda around here so I can finally watch it all."

Keep Yourself Alive

pt. 27 // pt. 28⚛ // pt. 29

NCT Frat Social Media AU // College Athlete & Fratboy Lucas x reader

summary: College is hard enough, right? Coursework, two jobs, a social life, and the state of your mental health. As if that was enough now the school’s no.1 athlete won’t leave you alone after a one night stand. And maybe you like him back but you have a tendency to run when life gets too difficult especially now that undiagnosed chronic pain just seems to be getting worse with each passing month.

(I am not to happy with this chapter so I might come back and edit and revise. It just feels too gloom and doom for me. Let me know what you think. That’s for waiting for the update! And thanks for reading. There is only like one or two more actual chapters and then an epilogue.)

Taglist: @princeofshenzhenuwus @hannahdinse8 @wongassride ​ @cowward @sakura-uji

[love-can-be-as-cold-as-grave]

Chapter 31- Resurrection

Quinton hung his head, letting out a deep sigh before rubbing his hands over his face. The silence making Livs breathing erratic as she fought back tears, watching him digest what she had told him from the edge of the bed.

He looked up with tired and defeated eyes. "Something’s been different about you Liv, and I couldn't really figure it out before, but I think I have an idea now. I'm only going to ask you this once, do you love him?"

She turned away from him, shaking her head, teeth biting down on her bottom lip. "I, I don't know." Her stomach twisted with anxiety as she turned back to see his reaction.

His face was blank, emotionless. "Liv, what kind of an answer is that? Either you do or you don't."

Her vision blurred with tears and she took a seat across the room. "It's complicated. He was my first love. I admit, we shouldn't have stayed in contact but I don't think love is there. That kiss was just, it was left over…" She struggled trying to find the words. "It was left over... I didn't think about it, my body just did it." She was rambling.

He looked into her eyes from across the room with pleading, face still full of composure. "Do you love me."

She blurted out the words before she could censor herself. "I don't know." She clasped her hand over her mouth. Why did I say that? Is that how I really feel?

He stood up silently and walked over to the closet, pulling out his small suitcase, and began tossing clothes in to it.

Liv stood, "What are you doing?"

He didn't turn as he answered her, haphazardly stuffing more of his clothes in to the black suitcase. "I'm moving out Liv.”

She shook her head, unable to really grasp what he was saying. "No, no…" She crossed the room, wanting to wrap her arms around him from behind, but hesitating.

"Liv it's not just the kiss. You haven’t seen yourself. You’re still in love with him and I, I’m just the new boyfriend in the way of that.” He roughly zipped up the suitcase and turned around to face her, expression stony.

He’s wrong. That isn’t true. “No you aren’t.” Her voice faded with defeat. His mind was made up, and there was nothing she could say or do to change that, or at least, she’d lost the will to fight him.

She watched as he silently rolled the suitcase, throwing his travel bag over his shoulder, and walked out the front door.

I should have said more.

But he, he was so cold. Why didn’t he yell or scream, why didn’t he plead with me to make up my mind, or fight for me.

She pulled out a chair at the small kitchen table and sat down in stunned silence by how quickly things had escalated, and how emotionless Quinton seemed to be.

What did he see in me? How have I acted in any way, shape, or form to make him think that I still have feelings for Ville?

******

[November 3rd, 2017, Dallas, Texas]

He smiled to himself as he stepped into the shop, the smell of used records perfuming around him as the entrance bell rang. It was a small two story establishment, with rows and rows of new or used records neatly categorized. Posters and other music memorabilia hung from the walls. The shop was all but empty but for a young couple and older gentleman meandering through the aisles.

After the show, unable to stand the cramped tour bus, and not feeling like a dose of caffeine, Ville had searched up local record shops and quickly made his way by foot to the one open the latest. He only had half an hour before it closed at 12AM. Laying in bed in the moments between the comfort of a bed and sleep, or sitting in a quiet corner with a coffee, those moments when his mind should have been at ease were in fact the opposite. It was something about the calm that plunged his mind in to reminiscence, and he could not for the life of him rid himself of the feeling of her soft lips, of the taste of her sweet breath, of the sound of her laboured breathing, of the smell of her fragrant perfume mingled with the bitterness of cigarette smoke, but pervasive of all was the horror he had seen in her eyes as she’d realized what she had done.

He shook himself of the thoughts and walked up to the nearest section and began flipping through records, happy to have a distraction, enjoying the sensation of the worn plastic slips between his fingers and the 70’s punk music playing in the background.

He sighed, pausing his flipping as he approached the ‘D’ section, and pulled out his cellphone from his back pocket. He flipped past a few texts and opened up his email, scrolling until he came to Liv’s email, the one he hadn’t responded to yet.

He’d loved their correspondence, hearing updates on her career, telling her about life in Hells, and learning her opinions as they critiqued their weekly reads. He’d eased in to a comfortable fallacy so much so that when she’d kissed him he realized that the feelings he’d imagined as friendship borne from the final closure of their love, had really been a resurrection of feelings he’d thought had passed away long ago. That realization had scared him, and for once, he’d thought about things with some rationality. Instead of jumping in to the same declarations of love he had made to her three years ago in his tower, he’d thought about what reconciliation would even mean, if it were in fact possible given she was with Quinton. After much reflection laying awake in his bunk his thoughts always ended at the same place, that he needed to let her go. He’d been wrong to tell her the kiss didn’t have to change things, because it did, the moment it happened, and he’d been carrying on emailing her knowing he had to stop, knowing he had to cut communication lest he fall for her even more than he already was.

The pit of his stomach hurt as he put the phone away, unable to even think of the email he needed to send, let alone begin to write the words. He moved along to the other side of the aisle, reading out the artist names in his head. He only made it to 'J' when he was approached by the young woman who'd been standing at the front counter earlier.

"Hi there, sorry to bother you but I've got to close up soon, can I ring up what you've got there?" She pointed at a small bundle of records tucked under his arm.

He smiled, a little embarrassed, "Of course, I'm sorry for keeping you." He handed the stack to the woman and followed as she led him to the front counter. He perused the small knick knacks at the desk, trying to figure out how he'd safely transport the records back home when he spotted a November edition of Metal Hammer tucked away among other music related magazines. "Do you keep older editions by any chance?" He asked out of some inner impulse.

She finished scanning the last of his records, "We do yeah. I can quickly run to the back and see if we've got what you're looking for. What year and month?"

"April of this year please." He'd already read the particular issue, quite thoroughly, but he wanted to read it again. Masochist, he said to himself as the woman ducked in to the back of the shop out of sight. 

He pulled out his phone again, swiping the screen and seeing the email light up. They hadn't picked up emailing right away after seeing each other in Anaheim, and only awkward small talk since then. The email Ville hadn't responded to was one where Liv suggested they read "Persuasion" next, one of her favorites.

The employee returned and he quickly stuffed his phone back in to his pocket. The magazine was scanned, put in a bag with the records, the bundle paid for, and the door locked behind him as Ville stepped out on to the quiet midnight.

Walking until he was under the nearest streetlight he lit himself a cigarette and pulled out the magazine. He looked into his own eyes, the cover headline read "Farewell to Love Metal: A Tribute to H.I.M.", he stood snarling at the camera, Mige and Kosmo grimacing from behind each of his shoulders, Linde to the left of him glaring, and Burton to the right, his face a mask behind sunglasses. A small smirk played on his lips as he let out swirls of smoke that danced in the spotlight, Liv had been unhappy with their expressions so she'd asked them to imagine they were wolves. At the time they thought it was silly, but the final result was great.

He flipped through the magazine until he came to the eight page spread on the band. Larger staged shots were interspersed with more candid ones of them laughing, playing chess, reading, and drinking. Next to these was her article.

"I'm sitting in a small cabin in the middle of Lapland with the world's five most famous Finns. Why are they famous you ask? Is it because they coined the term Love Metal? Is it because their relationship with Bam Margera of Jackass fame? Is it because the heartagram is a world recognized symbol? Or is it because their music, a unique mix of Depeche Mode-like beats, horror inspired chords, heartbreaking ballads, and Poe-etic lyrics has become the melody of not just a generation but of new fans discovering the unique discography every day? With a history lasting almost thirty years, and eight records under their belt, 2017 will mark the final year of the bands extraordinary career."

He had never read her writing before seeing the article, he hadn't even known her capabilities, but her ability to tell the conclusion to the bands long story, framed by the few days she'd spent reconnecting with them had touched his heart. He'd gotten a copy of the article framed and hung up in the studio in his new home.

Ville continued flipping until he came to what he'd been looking for. He took a drag and held the page closer, folding back the other half of the magazine.

The final page was a small spread on Liv herself. Front and centre was a candid shot taken by Sirii as she'd prepped the guys out in the snow, her back was to the camera as she adjusted Ville's hair. He remembered the moment, the guys goofing around beside him, the freezing cold, the sense of relief still lingering in his heart after his talk with Liv the night before, the stern words she snapped at them as she played with the curls sticking out of his beanie. He remembered looking in to her big eyes, still amazed at the change he had seen there. The photograph depicted that moment so perfectly, every aspect, especially the look of pure adoration he had unknowingly given her.

He let out a jagged breath and pulled his eyes away to a smaller photo of her, she flashed an embarrassed smile as Sirii caught her in the midst of changing the lens on her camera, ridiculously puffy coat eating her up, her cheeks a bright red from the cold, long hair in a messy bun. Below the photo was a blurb she'd written about herself and her relationship with the band. She'd asked his permission regarding a certain section before sending in her drafts and he'd obliged.

"A lot of people have speculated about how my career began, and with my connection to Ville Valo. The simple truth is that he believed in my photography, the whole band did, but what grew from a working relationship was a first love. Maybe I was a little young and naive, but what we had, although brief, was very much real and burned with the heat of six hundred and sixty six suns. I am honoured to attribute my career and foray in to love to an incredibly talented, passionate, and caring man who I can now count as a dear friend."

He wished he'd had the courage to say it, both in the past and present. He wished he hadn't been ashamed then, and that he would have admitted it now. I'd scream it from the damn rooftops, I'd stand outside her window with a boombox like some love sick idiot. I wish I'd told the world I'd loved her. His hands gripped the magazine tighter, I was such a fool then. 

Friends.

That's what we are now, she said it, I said it, it's right there on the page. But it's not possible, not now, maybe in time, but I need space. Maintaining this friendship would only mean feeding the hungry monster within me morsels of the actual whole it desires but can never have. That kiss awoke something in me that I need to lay to rest, again.

From: villevalomuusikko@hotmail.fi

To: livmanningphotography@gmail.com

Subject: I hope this email finds you well

Dearest Liv,

Firstly, my apologies for the formality of this email, you cannot write something of this nature with short sentences and text language.

Secondly, I would love to read Persuasion with you and to learn why the work has a special place in your heart,

But, thirdly, I do not think this is a good idea. Although I'm so happy we were able to frankly reflect on the past back in March, and that we've come to have a friendship of sorts, it seems that I am not ready for this. I hope you can understand that some wounds require a little more time to heal, and I suppose I was a little hasty in so readily offering my friendship. I need some time and space to reflect, on what, I'm not entirely sure. I would hope you of all people would understand why I need to do this however.

Forget me for the moment, focus on work, family, and Quinton. 

Warmest regards little red,

Ville Valo

******

[November 19th, 2017, Los Angeles]

She quietly crept out of the girls’ room and turned off their lights, pausing in the doorway to spare a glance at the sleeping children. She gently closed the door, keeping it open a crack and returned to the kitchen. She found Marcus still wearing the stained apron from when he made lunch for the girls, now whipping up a salad for himself and Liv.

“They have been read to, they have been tucked in, and they are now fast asleep.” Liv smiled, sitting down at a counter stool. Marcus passed her a bowl and fork. “Now I don’t want to call myself the greatest aunt ever, but, I’m the greatest aunt ever.”

Marcus rolled his eyes as he tossed the salad, “You haven’t even dealt with half the stress involved, no, a quarter! But yes, you are a wonderful aunt.” He filled Livs bowl and then his own, leaning against the counter across from her, holding the food in his hand. “So what brings you by?” He asked, spearing a cherry tomato.

Liv fixed her gaze upon the greens in front of her, moving the salad around absentmindedly with her fork. “Weeeell, to put it shortly, I need some friend time and some advice.” Marcus kept his mouth shut, wanting her to go on. She looked up, letting out a sigh. She'd learned to become so much more open with people, but it was still difficult nonetheless. Before she could begin to speak her eyes began to fill with tears. "So I know I should have told you earlier but uh Quinton left me last month."

Marcus put his food down. "Last month? And you're telling me this now?" He shook his head, "I'm sorry that's not important." He leaned across the counter. "What happened?"

She looked up, trying not to blink, trying to keep the tears from slipping out, and trying to contain the emotions she'd been bottling since he'd left. "I kissed Ville and I was trying to do the right thing and I told Quinton but he asked me if I loved Ville and if I loved him." She grabbed a tissue from the box that Marcus scooted towards her on the counter.

"What did you say? Wait no, back up. Tell me about this kiss." His eyes grew wide with curiosity.

She began to calm down, the relief of telling someone her woes easing her heart. "It was after that show in Anaheim. I don't know why I did it. And Quinton seems to think I still love Ville."

Marcus crossed his arms, "Well do you?"

She'd been asking herself the same question ever since Quinton had left. "I honestly don't know. What I do know though is that Ville told me he needs space, that he's not ready for a friendship yet." His email had stung, not because she had blamed her kiss, not because she knew those words were coming, but because he had been right. She knew, she knew exactly what he was feeling, and he was right to put distance between them. At Least he'd had the decency to speak openly to her about it, instead of taking the cowards way out as she had done, sneaking out of his tower that morning long ago.

"Do you think he has feelings for you?" Marcus asked as he watched the emotions play across Livs face.

"I'm not sure, I can't be sure, maybe what I saw there is just leftover feelings, but I think if anything that doesn't matter. He doesn't want feelings if he's got em, he wants space." She let out a heavy sigh, "Marcus I, I don't know what I want anymore."

He leaned forward across the counter, clasping her hands in his own. "Liv, Ville was your first love, it's okay to be confused, and it's okay to still have feelings for him."

She shook her head, "It's not that easy to feel that Marcus, not after I've already mourned what we had, not after I've put it all behind me." She looked away, biting her bottom lip. "But, I, I can't explain it, back when I ran from him in Hells I, I knew in the pit of my stomach I couldn't do it again, but I just don't feel that now. It's not the same this time." She ran a hand through her hair, trying to put into words all the jumbled thoughts she'd been having. "It's like, it's like it hurts that we've taken a step back, that he thinks it's not a good idea, but I've done the same, I've felt the same. I just don't know what I want, but who cares what I want if we're not in the same place, if I'm even in that place…" She bawled her hands up into fists with resolution, “Even if I did feel something, it doesn’t matter, we had our chance and it’s done, it’s finished.”

Marcus let go of her hands. "There is nothing I can say that will magically help you figure out what you want, but I think you’re fair to be hesitant, to be cautious of your feelings. Whatever you feel you don’t have to follow, you can overcome, like you’ve done before. Just give him and yourself time."

Marcus always had a way of organizing the chaos in her mind, focusing her thoughts, and making her feel like whatever she was feeling was valid. Liv loved him for it.

She nodded silently and got up, going around the counter and giving Marcus a hug. "I'm going to give myself some time to think. The time off I'm taking to visit my grandpa and dad for the holidays will do me good, I'll have more head space." She let go of him, wiping the last remnants of her tears, "Work has just got my brain so overloaded with times, lenses, figures, contacts blah blah." She shot him a half smile as she sat back down.

She watched as Marcus picked up his food once again, a thought clearly rolling around in his mind. "Liv, did you love Quinton?"

At least that, she'd realized the answer to.

She shook her head. "No."

******

[December 23, 2017, Brooklyn]

"Now Liv, I love you honey, but I can't tell if this alfredo is terrible because you cooked it, or because it's vegan." Livs dad dropped his fork back on to the plate, giving her an apologetic smile as her grandpa began snickering from across the table.

Liv stood, narrowing her eyes at him, "You all should be happy I even attempted to cook for you!" She reached for his half eaten plate but he quickly pulled it back and stuffed the rest of the alfredo in his mouth, smiling back at her with his full mouth.

She slumped back in to her seat, crossing her arms.

"Don't listen to him dear," her grandpa smiled, clearly squishing the noodles to one side of the plate to make it look as if he'd eaten more than he really had, "it was a uh unique dish. We appreciate the healthy cooking."

"Does this mean you guys aren't going to let me attempt Christmas dinner?" She took a bite from her own plate. Tastes fine to me.

They both burst out laughing, her father speaking up between chuckles, "No honey, we're not. You can make the cranberry sauce though!"

Her grandfather nodded with amused approval.

She glared from one to the other jokingly, "but we already bought the cans?"

Her father grabbed his plate and got up to put it away, "Exactly, just need to open those bad boys up and tada, you made cranberry sauce!"

"Right" Liv murmured under her breath.

Her grandfather got up quickly and scurried away with his barely eaten plate.

Liv's father reappeared in the dining room doorway, "Did you want to take those pictures of my Harley for me today?"

She took her last bite and got up, "Sure, it's just in the garage right?"

He nodded. She quickly washed her plate, grabbed the camera in her room and found her father in the packed garage, the garage door open and the last shimmers of a winter sun shining upon a very imposing black motorcycle. 

"So this is betsy eh?" She asked, slipping the cap off the camera and dropping it in her back pocket, walking a circle around the impressive piece of machinery.

He nodded, a proud smile on his lips as he began to wheel the bike out to the driveway. "Funny enough, the best part about owning this beauty is that Joan said she'd come on rides with me."

Her father had met Joan a few months ago when he'd had to go to the hospital with her grandpa for some irregular heart palpitations he was having. She was the nurse helping him. She was a kind woman of 45 with voluminous honey hair and a curvy frame. Liv had only met her once, but she could tell that this one was going to last.

Once her dad had posed the bike the way he'd wanted Liv began searching for the right angle, doing a few tester shots before crouching down and taking more photos. 

Suddenly familiar musical notes began playing from her back pocket. Liv set the camera down on the motorcycles cushy leather seat and checked the caller ID. It was Bam. She beamed at the phone, knowing exactly why he must be calling.

"So?" She answered with giddiness.

"IT'S A HEALTHY BOY. WE'VE GOT A BOY. I'VE GOT A SON!" He sounded both euphoric and exhausted.

Liv chuckled, "What's his name? How is Nikki holding up?"

"Phoenix Wolf! Man Liv, he's got the biggest eyes! And Nikki! I can't believe she did that! She's resting now with the babe but dammit Liv, that was one of the craziest experiences of my life."

She paced around the driveway, cheeks hurting from her smile. "Bam I am so happy to hear that. I'm so happy for you and Nikki, and I can't wait to meet little Phoenix Wolf."

"You're in the area right? Why don't you stop by after Christmas? The place is a mess but we'd love to have you down!"

She'd thought about visiting when she'd made the plans to see her family, but knowing Bams baby was due around the same time, she hadn't wanted to impose. "Bam that would be wonderful. How does the 27th sound? I need to be flying back to LA on the 28th." What presents should I get the baby, she thought with delight.

"Perfect! I've got to go but I'll see you then!" 

Liv turned to her dad, putting the phone back into her pocket, "My friend just had a baby." She picked up the camera again with a happy sigh. 

"Oh that's wonderful. I heard you say Bam, is it that scruffy looking man who visited you after the hospital, the Jackass?" He began wheeling the bike back to the garage.

"It is yeah, he had a boy. Do you think you and pops would mind if I borrowed the car after Christmas to visit him in West Chester?"

"Are you off probation from your accident?" He asked, the voice of a father.

She nodded tucking the camera back in its bag, memory card in one hand, "Yeah, a while ago. I'll have the car back by the end of the day, and I will not touch a drop of alcohol, I won't even put on hand sanitizer." She crossed her heart, trying to lighten the mood. He was fair in asking, among the physical and emotional recovery from the accident she'd faced a severe fine and an impaired driving program she had to complete before her license would be restored.

"Should be fine then," he rubbed out a spot on the tank with the bottom of his T shirt. "Hey are you going to show me how to put these pictures up on my Facebook too?"

******

[December 27th, 2017]

She lowered the camera, smiling proudly to herself, “I think I’ve got quite enough now.” Liv let out a soft chuckle as she began capping the camera.

Before her stood Bam, Nikki, and their infant son, posing in Bams living room in front of his enormous chrome heartagram. Bam dressed in a black T-shirt and tattered jeans, Nikki in a long-sleeved purple, body hugging dress, and their little boy in a Jackass T shirt.

Nikki sighed with relief, “Thank god, my tits feel like they’re going to burst, I have to either try feeding him or pump. I’ll be right back.” She scurried off. During the short shoot Liv could tell she’d gotten uncomfortable near the end.

Bam plopped down in a nearby chair, contentment in his eyes, “Thanks for doing this. I know you work yourself to death with that thing,” he pointed a ringed finger at the camera in her hands, “but we had to ask the best.” 

Liv sat down opposite him, a smile on her lips. She’d enjoyed watching him all day as she shot candids of his little family as they all hung out. It was like he was a changed man, and although he’d been having recent struggles with sobriety, he was being such an attentive and doting father. His smiles were touching his eyes. He genuinely seemed happy. “Oh it’s nothing, plus you guys made me breakfast this morning. And, I also was wondering if I could use a few of these shots, if it was alright with you?” She’d been all too happy to oblige Bam’s request, but admittedly she’d had another motive for agreeing so readily to be the family's personal photographer for the day.

He raised a brow, “What for?”

She’d been wanting to do another passion project for some time and exhibit her work again, but wanted to do something less abstract, more real. “I’ve got this idea for my next project. I want it to be a celebration of family, my family, the family I was given, and the family I’ve made. I’ve come to really appreciate the people in my life, I mean, I did before obviously, but nowadays I’ve really been thinking about the people that have helped me get to where I am today, and I want to thank them.” She looked down at the camera in her hands, then back up at Bam, “I count you among those people Bam, you helped with my career, but you also really helped ground me after my accident, even when you were dealing with your own shit, I’ll never forget that.”

He blushed, “Weeeeell shit, that means a lot.” He fiddled with the rings on his fingers. “Who else do you plan on photographing?”

She slipped the camera in to its bag. “My family of course, I’ve already got shots of my dad working on his Harley and my grandpa tending to his tomato garden. My friend Marcus, I imagine a shot of him in his home office but decked out in all his metal loving glory. John McMurtrie, in the middle of a photoshoot. Kat, maybe at a makeup launch. My work partner Sirii, by some Finnish monument. And uh, I’d love to actually get a shot too of Ville and the guys at Helldone this New Years. It seems oddly fitting, it being their last show ever, and Ville basically kick starting this whole crazy path my life took..”

Bam gave her a skeptical voice, picking up on her hesitation at the end, “Buuut?”

She sighed, “Buuut Helldone is a few days away and I’m not sure if I can make it” That and the man I may or may not love, who will very much be there, currently does not want to have anything to do with me.

She could tell by his expression that he knew she was holding back all the details, but he didn’t have a chance to say anything as Nikki came back, the baby fast asleep in her arms.

Liv stood, slinging the camera back over her shoulder, "I should head on back to my grandpas before it starts getting dark." She gave Nikki a hug and gently ran her hand over the soft hairs of the sleeping infants head before turning to Bam who still had a look of wanting to press her further.

"Bam I don't need you to tell me I'm a coward anymore, I'm well aware," she gave a small chuckle and opened her arms, "Now give me a hug so I can leave you guys to rest, and so I don't get lost making my way back."

He rolled his eyes with a smirk and gave her a warm hug. They walked her to the car parked out front of the large property. The air was crisp, below freezing. 

"Have a good New Years!" Liv waved before the pair disappeared into the large home. She cranked the heat, putting in her grandfather's address into a GPS as she waited for the windows to clear up from the sudden change in temperature. Funny, she thought as she inspected the route laid out on the GPS, it's not the same way back as coming here. She shrugged and pulled out of the driveway, putting on an old Pearl Jam album she found in the glovebox.

She let her mind drift as she drove, singing along to the album here and there, watching the suburban neighborhoods and woodlands pass her by, giving way to more urban areas, and then again to more secluded stretches of road.

She thought about her photography project along the way, the stylistic elements she’d like to incorporate, how she’d get everyone to pose naturally. She thought about Helldone, remembering Tavastia from when she shot the guys there, hoping the crowds would have the energy to make the final night go out with a bang. She thought about Ville, inevitably, imagining him chain smoking outside and then strutting out on stage, performing with his usual quirks like smiling to the guys behind him and holding the mic way too close to his mouth. Since his email he’d been on her mind a lot, as if the lid had been taken off and there was no longer a way to contain the thought of him.

It doesn’t matter, we’d just fall in to the same old toxicity. He’s right to want distance, he’s right to be scared. I am too.

She focused back on the road, knowing she’d soon back on more populated streets. Around her the road was fairly quiet, the trees on the forested stretch swaying in the icy winter winds.

Suddenly she spotted a street sign up ahead on the other side of the road, where the shoulder sloped down into an embankment. She almost slammed her foot on the break as the spark of recognition reverberated within her, her heart the epicentre. 

She checked behind her to see if cars were coming and quickly pulled over on to the side of the road, jumping out of the car in stunned silence, as she stared at the street sign. Clutching her coat closer around her she darted across the street. The air was freezing, as they day began to transition into twilight, the dying rays of the sun illuminating her path as she walked a few feet along the grass and decaying leaves of the shoulder until she found what she was looking for. 

On the edge of the road, about fifteen metres away down the embankment was a snapped tree, broken at the trunk from an impact. It was already covered with dead leaves and thriving moss, marking the passage of time. She let out a deep, shaky breath that turned to fog as it escaped her lips. It was the tree that had stopped her car from rolling further. The one that had saved her life.

She took a step forward, and then another, gripping onto the saplings around her she carefully made her way down the slope of the embankment, slipping a couple of times upon the wet leaves before stopping at the tree, it's broken trunk pointing down the slope, the stump still sticking tall with seedlings sprouting from it's rotting hull; new life borne of the remnants of tragedy.

She reached out a shaking hand towards the jagged edges of the stump where the snap had occurred, fingertip drawn to the sharp point like a Grimme princess.

Flashes of the accident began to assault her mind, the car spinning out as she veered to avoid the animal, the descent down the embankment, the weightlessness as the car rolled, and then the jarring jolt as it stopped, glass shattering around her, metal creaking and groaning as it was bent beneath the weight of itself.

She began to feel lightheaded, and so gripping on to the trunk she sat down on the damp earth, trying to compose herself as the memories continued.

The warm sensation of blood streaming down her face, as the night grew quiet but for the sound of hard rain falling upon the wreckage. She'd lost consciousness then only to wake up briefly, the night still dark around her aching body, she'd tried to open her mouth to scream but no sound would come out. She'd thought she'd known loneliness before, but it wasn't until that moment that she truly knew. She'd wanted to die, and to die with happy thoughts, and so amidst the distorted metal, sharp glass, pelting rain, agonized body, she'd recalled the comfort, security, warmth, and happiness she had felt the last time she had been in Villes arms. And then the world was black again, a fleeting consciousness only coming back to her as men in uniforms yelled while a bright flashlight was pointed at her face.

She pulled back the fabric of her shirt to look down at the faded white scar on her abdomen as if wanting to see the evidence of the accident, as if checking that the vivid memories were in fact real.

Would I have done it again, she asked herself, recalling the question she had posed to Ville beneath the Finnish night. Knowing what I know, the insecurities, the jealousy, the drinking, the sleeplessness, the heartache, the embarrassment, the shame, the loss. Would I have done it again?

Yes, yes I would, because the past was a path, without it all, without the lows, I wouldn't be able to do it now. I needed it. I needed all that pain, the pain from my moms death, from my fathers addition, from my own insecurities, and from him, I needed it to be who I am, and who I am is someone who works hard, who I am is someone who's overcome loss, who I am is someone who loves themselves. 

Who I am is someone ready to try again.

I can do it now. I can do it because time is linear, it pushes you forward, and trying again does not mean repeating the past. It couldn't, it wouldn't be possible. Those people don't exist anymore.

I don't know if he's ready, I hope he is, I really do, because if he could have the courage then to tell me he loved me, after everything that happened, then I can have the courage now.

"It's our time.." She whispered to herself before standing up and beginning scramble up the slope towards the car with urgency.

I loved him then, and I love him now.

******

She flew in to the house in a panic, slamming the door shut behind her and racing past the living room towards her bedroom.

Her father and grandpa looked at each other with confused worry before her father followed her. "What the hell is going on Liv? Are you alright? Did something happen?"

She was on her knees throwing clothes in her backpack. She turned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Dad I, I know this sounds a little crazy, and I swear I'm alright, but I need to go to the airport, I've got to tell someone I love them." She shook her head a little, out of breath, knowing how silly she may look, but her mind was made up.

He leaned against the doorway and looked down at his worn leather watch, "uh honey, it's eight O clock, the airport is probably an hours drive, it's the dead of winter, are you sure you want to do this now?"

She stopped packing and turned to him, "Dad I, I've never been more sure of anything in my life, and for once, for once, I'm running towards something and not from it."

___________________________________________

ONE MORE CHAPTER TO GO <3

[latenightcinephile]

#880: ‘Monsoon Wedding’, dir. Mira Nair, 2001.

Content warning: Monsoon Wedding has a subplot featuring child sexual abuse.

After a string of films that have been watchable largely because of their historical context, we finally get back to Monsoon Wedding, which is affably watchable. This is the kind of film that can be enjoyed without getting into the details of cinema structure, or an in-depth discussion of feminist film critique. It wouldn’t be much fun if I just said ‘this is a good film’, though, so I’m going to develop that idea in a bit.

The film is also a slight break in tradition for director Mira Nair, who until this point had made films focused either on Indian characters as minority groups in other countries, or minority groups within India itself. To a certain degree one could argue that the women in this film are a marginalised group, but Monsoon Wedding spends most of its runtime facing down this proposition: women are not only the central characters here, but this film leads towards a surprisingly feel-good conclusion.

For most of the film, Nair follows the typical beats of the wedding romance/comedy that I was almost expecting would be subverted. The arranged marriage between Aditi (Vasundhara Das) and expat to Texas Hemant (Parvin Dabas) overcomes a standard obstacle to overcome, the family comes together after the expense and hassle of the wedding threatens to drive them apart, and there’s even a happy romance between Dubey (Vijay Raaz), the wedding planner, and Alice (Tillotama Shome), the family’s maid. All of these aspects, but especially the last one, almost give the film a Richard E. Grant quality, the typical message of love bringing everyone together. There are even token nods to queer sexuality (as is typical for Indian cinema, in the character of the younger brother, who loves dance and cooking).

As Gayatri Gopinath observes, however, any deviation from the heterosexual mode might actually be illusory. By pushing all the queer coding onto one character, Nair’s film creates a more rigid heterosexuality. It’s interesting that Varun (Ishaan Nair) is the only character who doesn’t get his subplot resolved. There are no fewer than four consummated relationships in this film, and the only queer-coded character gets pretty much erased from the film with no closure or even development.

I feel like I’m digging too deeply into this, and perhaps souring the film too much even for myself, but this type of development was common in many Indian productions until the early 2010s, and still lags behind today. The Indian wedding is a homosocial environment, while steadfastly refusing any acknowledgement of the potential erotic implications of that.

Is Nair out of her comfort zone with this film? The spectre of queer sexuality isn’t the only indication that there is something a little askew – there’s also the issue of child abuse, which rears its head in the character of Ria (Shefali Shah), who was molested by a relative and who suspects that this relative is grooming a younger girl for the same purpose. Ria confronts the family about this two-thirds of the way through the film, causing some ambiguity about whether the family will acknowledge this or allow Tej (the abuser) to remain as part of the festivities. After some soul-searching, the family rejects Tej, in order to render a happy conclusion.

This is where things get a little awkward on a critical level. Joshua Klein, writing for the list, describes this subplot as ‘somewhat contrived’, but doesn’t elaborate on how. If his problem is that it seems to come out of nowhere at the end of the second act, he’s clearly not paying attention: from the moment early on where Tej offers to pay for Ria’s education in the United States, it was pretty obvious what this subplot was leading to. If Klein’s problem is that the issue isn’t adequately dealt with in the film, though, I feel kind of compelled to agree. But that’s not a bad thing: introducing a social issue and resolving it neatly is a trope of romantic comedies (and here, once again, I was reminded of Richard E. Bloody Grant).

As ungainly as the subplot might be, it’s a neat encapsulation of what I took as the overall theme of the film: men thinking they know what’s best for women. Nair’s film rebels against this at almost every turn, whether with Aditi’s last-minute tryst with her ex, or Tej’s presumably predatory offer to pay for Ria’s education. The closest this film comes to an initially sympathetic male character is Dubey, who displays his love for Alice in the most romantic gesture in the film, but even then we have to witness a horde of Dubey’s underlings aggressively apologise to Alice – and even then, they don’t know exactly why they’re apologising.

That this film ends happily, then, feels like some sort of miracle. Klein might call parts of this film a contrivance, but Monsoon Wedding is rigorously bound by the tropes of genre, even where it puts forwards a decidedly feminist spin. Being filmed on digital video, it has the kind of low-quality charm that makes it feel like a familiar object of sentimental value – and the joy that it provides is palpable.

[tastethegrace]

Analyzing “Montero (Call Me By Your Name)”

I don’t often post things as they’re having their cultural moment.  However, this song by Lil Nas X, a rap/hip hop/pop artist, who is famous for his song “Old Town Road” a few years ago, has caused quite the stir.  On one side of the fence is the LGBTQ+ community, who touts this song as an anthem to the artist’s sexual identity.  On the other are the Christians, many of whom have posted warnings on social media, urging fellow believers to “wake up,” guard their children, and many calling down the name of Jesus against the Satanic imagery associated with it.  The music video for this song sees the artist depicted as Eve in the garden of Eden, being seduced by the serpent.  He is then on trial, then descends into hell, where he himself seduces the Devil.  The artist has also partnered with street wear brand MSCHF to produced what many are calling “Satan shoes.”  These shoes apparently have contain one drop of human blood in the soul, have a black and red color scheme with pentagrams painted on the soul and attached to the laces.  

So first off, the reason I’m writing this post is to critique the Christian reaction to this song and its associated media.  It’s important to understand this right off the bat, as I will not be analyzing this song on its artistic merits.  Instead, I will attempt to analyze the artist’s intent behind the imagery and symbolism he chooses to use.  

If there’s one thing that I have grown to understand, it’s that the American Church has a fundamental misunderstanding of how believers are to interact with culture.  We have been stuck in the same culture war for decades, with this idea that we must enforce our beliefs on others, affect change through politics and protests, and fear all that is antithetical to the Christian belief system.  This latter point is the most significant, and one that many of my Christian friends may dispute.  

Let me explain here.  In the age of social media, everyone judges and reacts quickly, posting their affirmations and protests for everyone to see without putting much thought into what they’re actually critiquing.  Sadly, the American Church, most of the time, has followed suit.  Rather than choosing a different way to interact with the world on social media, it has become a leading reactionary voice -- a more intense version of what already exists in the mainstream.  It has so become the case that the world looks on and mocks.

As a younger Christian, I went with the flow, just as everyone else did.  But as a I grew up, and especially in college, I learned the importance of questioning, of slowing down, of considering the ins and outs, the truths and lies present in our everyday world.  I believe this process gives insight into the presence of God in our everyday lives, presenting us with his truth and beauty, present even in the darkest of places.  It also gives us the ability to, like Jesus, call something what it actually is, diminishing its power, and responding to it with the importance/weight it deserves.

Now understanding this context and the process by which I will move forward, let’s talk about this song.  First of all, the lyrics explicitly discuss the artist’s encounters with one specific person, a male in this context.  There’s a couple of levels to this song.  The first, that many in the LGBTQ+ community point out, is that he says that his partner “lives in the dark,” while he himself “cannot pretend.”  This refers to the fact that his partner is a closeted gay man, while Lil Nas is out.  As for the rest of the lyrics here, Lil Nas discusses his attachment to this man and the sexual experiences he has and wants to have with him.  He mentions the use of drugs to illustrate a hellish environment.  On a deeper level, evidenced even more clearly in the music video, Lil Nas is using this situation as a metaphor to reach out to his former, closeted self.  

In the interest of digging for the truth, I would go one step further here.  While it is obvious that the artist wishes to affirm his former self and encourage a lifestyle that is honest, at the very least, he also confesses what he wants very clearly.  All of the explicit imagery here is true to his experience.  So what does he want?  He wants deep connection, intimate experiences, and he’s ultimately willing to go to “hell” to get it, even if his partner won’t come out.  

Why is it important to understand this?  Am I trying to affirm how Lil Nas gets what he wants?  No, but that’s also not the point.  Understanding the artist’s questions are just as important as understanding his answers; in my opinion, even more so.  In order to make any sort of true judgment of merit or integrity, either subjective or objective, it’s important to understand fully how the artist is coming to his conclusions.  

Moving on to the music video, I’m going to use an analysis posted by reddit user margarita_atwood, as she discusses much of I what I found myself.

Everyone is going to have an opinion on this video, whether that opinion is heavily in favor or disfavor...Later, I’ll talk about why the negative opinions about this video don’t really matter and actually play right into LNX’s plans.

Lil Nas as every character: Through the miracle of CGI, LNX plays every single character. Some people might interpret this as LNX making love to himself in some scenes, but I think it has more to do with the Jungian concept of the Shadow Self (explained some in this video). There’s definitely some interesting psychology behind LNX playing all the parts. He’s talking to himself, seducing himself, running from himself. And I don’t think it would have had the same impact if the main characters were played by anyone else. He’s definitely being a little narcissistic, which he winks at with his own face on a Narcissus flower (daffodil) that I’ll get to next...He also says in the intro: “Welcome to Montero”, which is both this fantasy land he is creating for us in the video, and introducing us to his real self, saying welcome to the real me.

Scene 1- Garden of Eden: In the first scene. We’ve got the temptation of Adam by the snake/Satan in the Garden of Eden story mixed with Greek classical architecture motifs (sans Eve, as LNX raps “If Eve ain’t in your garden/ You know that you can/ Call me when you want”). In the reaction video I mentioned earlier, LNX talks about how growing up gay in a black church (or any church for that matter) made him repress and feel ashamed about his budding sexuality as a young adult. So while the lyrics are explicit, all of the themes in the video are very pointed allegories about how he’s dealt with his sexuality. He runs away from his tempting snake-self, meanwhile running past a Lion King-esque Mufasa cloud featuring his fate/destiny, and Narcissus flowers AKA daffodils (in the Greek myth, daffodils grew where Narcissus drowned after staring at his own reflection for too long), only to be caught by his temptation in a scene that gives me a ton of Labyrinth vibes. After his literal fall with possible Paradise Lost references to this perceived “sin,” we nearly see his alien-snake-self fellate his Adam-self. Finally, we close in on a shot of Greek writing on a tree. Some people smarter than I were able to find out that this is an excerpt from Plato’s Symposium which reads: “So in the beginning when they were cut in two, they yearned for each other’s half.” Symposium is basically a bunch of Greek philosophers telling metaphorical campfire stories about love (let’s ignore once again problematic themes of statutory rape in some of this). The excerpt in the video in particular is a part where one of Plato’s students Aristophanes gives an account of the origin of soulmates. Originally people were joined as two people to make one whole person. In this story, there were male/male, female/female, and female/male pairings and the gods became jealous and split them in two. The Montero excerpt is explaining this splitting of soul mates where they’re doomed to long for their other halves to become whole for eternity. Lots of allegories there regarding LNX trying to seduce a possibly gay man who is still in the closet.

Scene 2- The gladiator’s Colosseum: LNX then is taken as a prisoner in chains to a Greek colosseum, also full of LNX judges in Marie Antoinette wigs and faceless LNX mob spectators. I believe his character in this scene is supposed to be a Ulysses-type as his pink, fur shawl he’s wearing has a ram’s head broach...the blue LNX jury sentences him to...jail, and he gets literally stoned to death... Ulysses-LNX presumably dies and his soul is being lifted up to the heavens. An angel awaits him above, with a lot of Creation of Adam motifs (which was also hinted at on LNX’s IG). But just before he reaches his guardian angel.... a stripper pole rises up from the earth...and he rides that b**** all the way to the seventh inner circle of h*** in some thigh-high boots, tricking all the way down.

Scene 3- Twerking on the devil: And now we get to the biggest scandal. LNX said to those of you who think gays deserve to go to hell, watch me go to hell and give Satan a lap dance....he’s one-upping the shock factor in each part. Think it’s scandalous to go down on myself? Just wait. There’s some trolling of Illuminati/Satanist conspiracy rumors in the motifs. Honestly, the purpose of this scene is that he knew religious types would try and metaphorically crucify him over the lyrics. So he said let me beat you to it. He’s trolling the religious hater that I’m sure made his life growing up a proverbial hell already. And hey, the more times they stream and react to the song out of anger, the more money he makes from their anger. And then he goes and pulls a mafia hit, killing Satan after seducing him, and taking his horns of braids and becoming the fallen angel...

While perhaps not stated the most eloquently, and obviously from a more approving light, the OP gives us some insight into the symbolism used in this video.  On first glance, the believer might gag at how biblical imagery is used and twisted here.  However, I would encourage that believer to be patient and consider for a moment a few things.

1. If we let our gut reaction to this imagery become our public reaction, we prove the artist’s perspective of believers correct in the eyes of the world.  

2. If we consider the symbols and imagery used, it is obvious that this piece was intricately planned by Lil Nas to suggest his conclusions through the subversion of cultural norms.  This is not a new technique by any means, and it is important to acknowledge this.

3. Remember that Lil Nas was raised in the church.  His use of biblical imagery is intentional here.  If you detect a hint of bitterness in the twists he uses, that’s because there is, and not without reason.

See, I think that if Jesus looked at this video and gave us his reaction, it would not be a warning to us to guard our hearts.  That’s common sense.  I think it would be sadness that Lil Nas has not experienced the true intimacy and connection that he so desires in a healthy context, but also that he would be so bitter as to use the imagery as a “F*** You!” to the church.  Granted, this is all speculative, but when I look at Jesus in the gospels, I never see Jesus trying to separate or isolate his disciples from sinners.  He sees right to the heart of why sinners sin, and urges his disciples by example and speech to have compassion.  It is the the Pharisees and teachers of the law who he preaches against, urging his disciples to guard their hearts against them.  

Finally, there’s the even bigger deal being made in Christian circles of the “Satan shoes.”  Let me set the record straight here.  This company put out “Jesus shoes” a couple of years ago that claimed to have holy water in its soles.  This was a stunt by the artist for the very purpose of causing controversy.  It was done out of anger.  The imagery only has power if we let it be something other than what it is.

I have seen so many people decrying the use of this imagery as an act of devil worship.  That’s not what this is.  Is Lil Nas believing a lie?  Most certainly, as all humans do every day.  But this should not be shocking.  We must look behind the symbols to what they’re really pointing to.

In conclusion, I felt that it was important to share my feelings on this, as the social media chatter is a prime example of how the American Church has lost its way.  However, on a more personal note, I have a lot of history and connection that helps me to deeply understand what’s happening in this song.  That drive for connection, that willingness to put myself in horrible places to find it, the feeling of dirtiness and the running away from it...and especially the now often used intimate metaphor “call me by your name,” referring to the book/move of that title...I’ve been there.  I even embraced it for a time.  So more than most, I am more inclined to have compassion on those who are in that place, even if they don’t see the fruitlessness of it.  The Lord has been good to me.  He was with me in that place, just as he is with me now.  It is important for all who call themselves Christians to remember that before we judge, we must seek empathy and compassion, fullness of understanding, and most of all, the heart and mind of Jesus himself.

[prixmiumarchive]

The thing about Black Canary

I’m a couple weeks behind on Season 6, but I’ve been watching. However, I’m also a recently-returned fan who stopped watching Arrow (and lots of things at the same time) mid-S3. I have absorbed a lot of things through osmosis and gifs and reading wikis and so on, because sometimes I need spoilers for fannish activities, and it’s more about the journey it most cases. I’m disclosing this to let you know where I’m coming from, but anyway...

A lot of the time I see some ~discourse~ about how Sara is the true Black Canary because per Arrow she was the first. I also see a lot of posts that complain that Laurel’s becoming a superhero arc was really unconvincing and that they didn’t like it and wanted Sara to stay and so on... There seems to be a lot of “haha, in your face!” kind of victory dance goings-on when Sara gets used as the face of the Black Canary (there was some mobile app; there have also been other promotional materials that are not directly connected to the CW’s DCTV set that seem to use Caity Lotz’s likeness as a model). I think a lot of this is unnecessary, and since I am way more familiar with the front end of Arrow than the current back end of it, even though I’m closing the gap, I just felt like making a post sort of addressing this weird, competitive viewpoint that almost views Laurel as having foisted the Black Canary title upon herself, stealing it from Sara or something, when I just don’t think it’s a fair take on it.

Another disclaimer: this post has fuck-all to do with shipping, so check those counterclaims at the door, thanks.

So here are some things that are true in my view that tend to be used as things to back up the claim that Sara is the proper or true Black Canary and that we don’t need or want another one and that Laurel should’ve been removed because no one liked her or that this was a character development for Laurel that was never meant to happen and... so... on:

Per Arrow, Sara was the first Black Canary.

Laurel began the show as a very slightly more competent than typical in self-defense normal.

Both Oliver and Sara had five years of lived experience combat training while Laurel had none to speak of except becoming increasingly more familiar with needing to defend her immediate self from constant threat of danger over the course of the show. Laurel was often sort of presented as a damsel in distress for both Oliver and Sara.

Laurel’s initial attempts at becoming the Black Canary were extremely ill-advised.

The fact that she was allowed out into the field with the rest of Team Arrow as a fully-participant superhero in her own right when she was is a really questionable in-universe decision even if they were going to allow her to become a part of their superhero team due to her relative lack of experience.

This lack of experience is one of the reasons she died, in-universe, possibly.

However, I think that the conclusions that some people draw from this about narrative direction are simply unfair, and I wanted to point out a couple of things that I think tend to show that Laurel was meant to become the Black Canary all along.

See below for a surprisingly humongous post in sections.

Sara

The first thing has to do with Sara’s journey as the Canary/Yellow Bird/Black Canary. All of this had to do with very brutal survival for her, and when she finally did become a hero, it was a journey similar to Oliver’s only with an even more deep and dark background. I do not know when plans for Legends of Tomorrow to exist came into play, and I know that there are critiques that they whitewashed “White Canary” because the White Canary from the comics was an entirely other character who was an Asian woman, but that critique aside what we have in this canon is that Sara was on her way to becoming White Canary. Laurel actually is given a very beautiful line about this when she and Sara are discussing Rip Hunter’s offer to her. She shows Sara the white uniform/costume and Sara asks where the mask is. Laurel tells her she doesn’t need one because it’s time for her to step out of the shadows and into the light. This seems like a very cogent progression of Sara’s character arc.

Sara ran away from the League of Assassins because she finally got to a point where she couldn’t take being a murderer anymore. She came back to Starling City to see that her family was alive after the Undertaking. She had no intentions of staying or of rejoining normal life because she had already become so dangerous and put herself in so much danger that she saw no way out. Then, through staying, she found friends and family and a support system again. This allowed her to begin to step out of mere survival mode. One of the differences for Sara and Oliver in this respect is that Oliver had the respite of a lot more experiences where people were not behaving toward him with ulterior, cruel, or evil motives. Sure, it was punctuated by trauma and needing to do awful things to survive all the time and every time right up until the end, but Oliver’s humanity was not quite so thoroughly eroded as Sara needed to make hers. It isn’t until she returns to Starling that she even begins to unravel that for herself. So when she ultimately passes on the mantel of Black Canary for good, rather than there being two, rather than anything else, this is an evolution for her character and self-perception and a continuing search for more of that becoming more human-again -- not a necessary scramble for a new moniker for her because someone stole hers. It didn’t come out of nowhere.

Had Legends of Tomorrow never come into existence, I’m not sure what they would have done with Sara’s character, but I still don’t think her end goal ever would have been to remain Black Canary forever. For her, it was intimately connected with her chosen name for the League of Assassins and the terrible things she had done to survive. First, she needed to take her identity as it was and use it for good, but then she needed some new dimension to herself, and so I don’t know why people insist that Sara needed to stay the one, the only Black Canary forever. It wasn’t what she wanted.

Laurel

Then, there’s Laurel. I will agree forever with some meta I read several years ago, around the time when I was still eagerly watching S3 before I just rage-quit-because-of-fandom everything I was keeping up with episode-by-episode at the winter hiatus, about comparing the way The Flash was handling Iris in S1 and comparing it to the way Arrow handled Laurel in S1. I think maybe it was in a post that was still defending the possibility of endgame Laurive/r which I don’t really care one way or the other about -- I’m a multishipper; I always shipped Olicit/y; I never didn’t-ship Laurive/r but I also never OTPed it. Anyway, it said something about how making Laurel an “intrepid normal” or “intrepid civilian” at the beginning of Arrow was a serious mistake for her entire character arc. 

I’ll admit that I still don’t know why they made her a lawyer unless it was simply to give her a job within the legal system that was different from her father’s. I don’t really know if she has ever had a consistent civilian occupation in the comics - the wiki entry I found said “florist” (lol). I know in Young Justice that she shows some skills for counseling that seem to indicate a background in it, but that could even be a getting-things-past-the-radar allusion to her being in AA for a kids’ show. However, it is still beyond me that they went so far as to make her a very normal, typical noncombatant even though they do give her basic self defense class skills from the very beginning. For example, I’ll never understand, now that we have Dinah Drake, why Laurel couldn’t have been a rookie police officer or something except that they wanted to present a contrast between her and Quentin. But also -- her father in the comics is Larry Lance. Her mother is Dinah Drake. There are all kinds of allusions to the comics layered into Arrow and the CW’s DCTV or “Arrowverse,” even in really unexpected places, but they are not meant to be direct ports. Arrow is, in terms of itself, on its own Earth-1 and it is canonically a distinct reality from many others.

Back to my point, I can see why the fact that she was so deeply entrenched as a civilian at the beginning might make people be suspect of the idea that she was ever “meant to be” Black Canary. That doesn’t mean there weren’t signs though. They go to the trouble to establish in the second episode that Laurel has some self defense skills. “Cop dad, remember?” she reminds Oliver when he seems confused.

Furthermore, choosing a profession for her in the legal system shows us that she already has an investment in her own view of justice. When she finally does try becoming Black Canary, she uses the line, “I'm the justice you can’t run from,” representing a resolution of a very long character arc she had grappling with the morality and necessity of vigilantism. She went from being reluctantly enamored by it in Season 1 to violently opposed to it in Season 2 to finally realizing a need for it and being tempted into trying it out in Season 3. That is a progression of character, not wild inconsistency.

Now I want to talk a little bit about Laurel’s characterization and the way it is characterized by the fandom. There is a lot of mental retconning that goes on for a lot of people. I’m not necessarily blaming anyone; I view fandom as an experience to engage in, and if your fanon is what you prefer, go right ahead. But I think that the writing of Laurel’s character suffered from them keeping her in the dark and clueless for as long as she was about what was going on around her. In Season 2, Laurel is really struggling with what she does know about her life. She has abandonment issues. She is grieving very deeply. She feels guilty. She is developing a substance abuse problem and generally freaking out about her own life while trying to keep an adult and professional face on it.

... And people hated her for it. This was the time when I was most-active in an Arrow fandom that hadn’t splintered off into this faction and that faction at that point. Olicit/y headcanoning and campaigning and wishing was alive and well but hadn’t created its own whole side-fandom. People still watched it weekly and regularly and blogged about it on tumblr without it being justification to judge the viewer. What halcyon tumblr times those were. But anyway. So many people despised Laurel back then. I don’t know if newer fans (uh, are there newer fans?) would even remember.

Most recently, Laurel has been a justification for people to hate Arrow because she’s gone. #NoLaurelNoArrow was a tag protesting her death. Again, I think as with Olicit/y, there’s probably a chicken and egg argument about whether or not the writers responded to fandom outcry to keep Laurel’s character on in some form or if they were already planning to do that. If you know I wouldn’t mind being enlightened. But back in, like, early 2014, “no one” liked Laurel. (’Cept me~)

The main reason they didn’t like Laurel was because she “whined” all the time or was a “bitch” for prioritizing her own emotional angst over the plethora of other problems that were actually far more immediate, pressing, deadly, and overall traumatic. But the thing that people don’t get is that she doesn’t have a bird’s eye view (pun?) on everything going on around her, and the narrative deliberately kept her in the dark for a year longer than it should have.

Wouldn’t it have been more interesting if she’d realized that Oliver was the Hood in the Season 1 finale and then her drinking and vendetta and upset over Tommy and the Hood and everything had an even more personal, complicated edge to it? That’s one retcon/AU headcanon suggestion, but don’t mind me.

Anyway, all of these acknowledged critiques doesn’t mean that there wasn’t always a general direction they were headed with all of this. Laurel and Sara’s gradual reconciliation over the course of the season, culminating in Sara giving Laurel her black leather jacket was character development. The passing of the jacket was foreshadowing. And everyone knew it and made an outcry about how they-could-not-possibly-be-considering-doing-this-this-sucks-so-much because, again, no one liked Laurel. Fast forward two years and many of those same people were quitting the show because Laurel died, but I digress. It was foreshadowing at the end of S2, even when the audience didn’t want it to be.

The Crucible(s)

There’s also the matter of a theme that Arrow has carried around with it literally since the very beginning: the Crucible.

Lian Yu literally means “purgatory.” Oliver constantly describes it and his experiences on “the island” as hellish. We know that he was not always on Lian Yu during those five years, but he was always on “the island” in a metaphorical sense and going through hell. The same was true for Sara. She faced her own trial of fire which made her into a henchmen, a murderer, an antihero-at-best, and finally a hero who operates in the light.

One of the first times we hear Oliver get to talk about his Crucible and the nature of personal crucibles such as they are, the first time that word ‘crucible’ is used, is when he meets and befriends/catches-feelings-for Helena Bertinelli. Helena is convinced that her experience of losing her fiance is the same as whatever crucible Oliver has faced. She has hurt so much that there is no way anyone can outdo her suffering after all. I don’t think Oliver ever thought it was a contest per se, but he tries to convince her that even after all he went through that there has to be another way than being a cold-blooded serial killer, y’know.

Helena refuses to learn that lesson. Nevertheless, she plays a role in showing that many people go through crucibles but not all of them come out changed for the better. We’re not meant to especially like Helena on a narrative level, but she isn’t a filler character necessarily. She’s a minor character, sure, but that’s not the same as filler. She had this purpose -- to tell us about the nature of this kind of suffering and what it can do to people. That is literally the entire Symbol of her character. She recurs because she is that theme recurring.

One of the time she recurs is in the Season 2 episode “Birds of Prey” -- another comic book allusion to the group for which Dinah Laurel Lance is best known. There is no new superhero team formed in that episode, but it is an episode that is making that titular illusion for a reason no less. This episode has Laurel and Helena having several conversations while she is holding Laurel hostage. The actual plot of the episode is, you know, an episode plot, but it shows us how Laurel has grown in her survival skills and in her view of her own survival. Laurel uses her words to communicate with Helena about Tommy’s death and her descent into addiction. Helena tells her “Once you let the darkness inside, it never comes out.”

Laurel adopts and thinks about these words even after this ordeal. She is in a very dark place, and she has been trying to deal with it. Her story actually parallels Helena’s in many ways. Tommy was not her fiance, but there is a sense in which Tommy died in Laurel’s place when she was the person who was at “fault” doing what she believed to be the right thing at the time... just like Helena. I don’t think that this parallel is a totally accidental coincidence. Laurel is being given the opportunity to go through something similar and to use that darkness, that ordeal in a different way than Helena did.

As mentioned above with Sara, it seems that this story uses the mantel of the Black Canary as a sort of place where women who have been through something very dark, very terrible go to make peace and amends. This has been true for Sara, it was why Laurel became the Black Canary, and it remains true through Dinah Drake of Arrow acting as the Black Canary. When Laurel had this thought put in her head by Helena, that was a step closer to doing something like becoming the Black Canary. Sara giving Laurel that jacket was also a symbolic signal and a step closer. Sara’s death was yet another part of that crucible Laurel was being put through. Just because her Crucible didn’t happen somewhere remote and primal doesn’t mean it isn’t a crucible, and I think that is one of the things they were always trying to do with her and it may be why she was still “normal” when the show began. Laurel was meant to go through her own Crucible and to come out the other side as the Black Canary.

Felicity (and Serendipity)

I would be remiss not to at least address Felicity here. I know that I’ve seen photo manipulations and speculation in the past that maybe someday Felicity would become the next Black Canary. Even back when it was being foreshadowed that Laurel one day would take up the mantel (maybe especially then?), people would suggest that Felicity would be a better and more logical choice. I mean, sure 2/3 Black Canaries have been blonde when they were running around in the leather, but other than that, this was a nonsense kind of suggestion. Honestly, too, I think many fans’ desire to see Felicity promoted rather than Laurel was a shipping competition as much as it was anything else.

Felicity is also a good person to bring up here because of her character arc always being one of ascendancy to something no one ever expected her to become on meta and in-universe levels. From my understanding, Felicity was originally intended to be a minor, supporting, comic relief character to give a face to the employees of Queen Consolidated and to have her subplot with Walter and the Hamlet-esque Queen family drama. However, with whomever they Test things with to get reaction, Felicity Tested very well. She was well-received and well-liked and people wanted more of her, and so she kept staying on.

It’s hard to even imagine now because Felicity and the Original Team Arrow feel so deep and integral to the show and its developed mythos at this point. However, I want to point out that Felicity did not actually learn the truth about Oliver and join the original Team Arrow until after the midseason finale of Season 1. Now, again, I don’t actually have my finger on the pulse of the writing staff because I’m just not that kind of fan -- that stuff wears me out -- but that midseason finale thing might be important because it might indicate renegotiation and rewriting of a sort in order to make sure Felicity slotted into the space they’d sort of made for her through experimentation with her interaction with Oliver and John. Before that, “Team Arrow” was literally just Oliver and his “bodyguard.”

Anyway, Felicity was a new cog in the machine. She is and was an original character, as John is and was, and she was not originally intended to stick around. You know, cue the started-from-the-bottom-now-we-here meme. Given that Olicit/y might be a serendipitous thing, but it was completely and totally unplanned until it just started happening and they rolled with it -- if you write fic you know that feeling where your characters just start telling you what to do? I imagine professional writers are a little more shrewd and resistant to their own impulses when they think they could make more money by doing it another way, but Olicit/y is literally one of those “oops my hand slipped and now I have what is (arguably) a masterpiece!” things and people seem to forget that or make it into a point for arrogance when really you should just take the win if you like it.

The Interruption of Laurel’s Destiny

Now, the fact that Felicity was never a planned-on character meant that prior to knowing that Felicity was gonna be there for the long-haul, the writers... did.. have a plan. I am not sure when the various parts of the Arrowverse went into production conceptually, but Arrow was the cornerstone. Whether or not it had been successful enough to spawn its universe of shows, I heard somewhere once that the writers had a plan for six years of the show. (I’m wondering if this will end up voluntarily being the last season, but who knows at this point. More recently I read this sort of platitude-like statement that was like they know how Arrow is gonna end but they can take as long as they want to get there which scares me a lot because i can imagine what I bet it’s gonna be but that is a different and terrible point for another day.) And yeah, the six years thing makes sense. They wanted to do the parallel plots of the present and the “island” flashbacks for five seasons, and then they wanted at least a season for epilogue -- fair enough. And for so long, I’d thought that maybe they’d abandoned that plan altogether, but whatever this was I was told my best friend had read included allusions to a lot of the things such as William’s current role and so on. So basically, I don’t think they ever abandoned or changed their plan; they adapted it.

They adapted it to include Felicity, yes. However, they also didn’t adapt it to include Laurel in a new way but still chose not to get rid of her. Now, I’m glad they didn’t do that. I liked-Laurel-before-it-was-cool and everything. But the issue was not that they never had a plan for Laurel or that they changed it in terms of her becoming Black Canary. What happened was that she was clearly originally intended to be Oliver’s endgame love interest. But they fumbled it. Even before they decided to do anything with Felicity that we know of, they fumbled it.

They fumbled it by giving them such a big thing as what happened to Sara to be their big obstacle to overcome. It’s too big. They fumbled it by going to the trouble of almost bypassing the typical love triangle bullshit until right at the end of Season 1 to keep you guessing. They fumbled it by making Tommy ultimately still extremely-admirable. They fumbled it by writing the fact that Tommy, Laurel, and Oliver all cared really deeply about each other actually really well. They fumbled it by giving us the one really actually-moving and not just sentimental, confused soup of nostalgia (which was fine but like y’know not convincing romantic development) moment between Oliver and Laurel happen right before Oliver was about to go tank it forever by “getting Tommy killed” backlit by that stupid sunlight framing thing they do. I say that moment is the Moment because before that we were literally given nothing but the most oblique allusions for what on earth Laurel and Oliver saw in each other apart from “bad boy I can fix because he’s not an irredeemable monster” and “pretty girl who never stops giving me chances.” They did a very good job of early and often letting us know why Tommy and Laurel liked each other and did nothing to give us a convincing love triangle (thank God, but also, it make this thing Not Work). They fumbled it by making Tommy and Laurel’s relationship so precious that Laurive/r looked pale and sad and like people trying to cling desperately to something lost and miserable in comparison. I’ve heard people say that Green Arrow/Black Canary is kind of supposed to be two human disasters who keep staying together or ending up back together over and over again even though it’s a mess, but they got... almost there... but never had the stomach for it, and the obstacles and comparisons they gave us were just too much for them to ever move past it unless they’d gone a far grittier place with it than they were ever willing to go. They gave it the old college try, but they backpedaled because they knew they fucked up.

(Side note: I would remind current fans that the Arrow school of writing romance seems to have a steep learning curve in this regard because when they canonized Olicit/y it became such a soup of crying and high romance there for a little while that it broke the fandom in half or more pieces and that they literally broke Olicit/y up for a while so as to get the show back on track before they touched it again. I’m happy with Olicit/y now, but this is not a Laurel-problem it’s a what-do-you-think-romance-IS thing @ the Writers. I bring this up as a defense of her but also because it’s also unclear if the beginning of Season 2 Oliver and Laurel interaction was a backpedal from which they intended to consider recovering from or if they had already decided against it but were keeping Laurel on as an important character anyway. Either might be true, but a part of me is scared that it was the former.)

When the dust settled and by the time Laurel was finally ready to begin taking her place in the narrative as Black Canary, Olicit/y had already started taking root. It was not to spite Laurel, but it also kind of didn’t help her. I still think you need to see Olicit/y as an independent development for the most part. The problem was and still is that they failed to figure out what they were going to do with Laurel instead. Laurel had one of the most richly developed background lives and jobs of any of the characters. She had friends who were minor supporting characters off and on. Her job impacted plots on the show. Her relationship to her job drove some of her own philosophical self-searching. Overall, she had a lot to work with, but they... didn’t work with it.

Anytime she had a love interest, he died (Tommy), was fundamentally too broken and misaligned with her to make it work whatever he wanted (Oliver), was evil (Sebastian Blood), and so on. Within the show, they never gave her anything that would work for her. A girl doesn’t need a love interest to be on a show, as we should all know, but this is a branch of a root problem with how they handled Laurel after Olicit/y started to develop. There was nothing wrong with Laurel no longer being Oliver’s planned endgame love interest. In fact, I find their dynamic as people who cared about each other and stayed-friends-anyway in the end interesting (which is why I hate her last words even though they could have so easily acknowledged that dynamic without Laurel throwing herself under the bus while praising Olicit/y when no one thought she had a problem with them in the first place but yeah).

The writers followed through on what appears to be their whole plan with her becoming Black Canary. Right down to her also responding to domestic violence suffered by another to initially motivate her the way Sara protected women down in the Glades. Laurel being intended to be the Black Canary was never the failure; it was the fact that Laurel was no longer intended to be the love interest and they didn’t know what to do with her on a personal level. I can think of suggestions that would have made me happy, but that’s for fic and another time and place. Laurel died for the in-universe reasons they give us, but on a meta level she didn’t die because she was a shitty superhero or because she wasn’t meant to be one. She died because we’re still living with her ghost today in the ways in which that six-year plan didn’t conform and adjust to make room for a personal life for Laurel Lance after Felicity joined the cast. I wouldn’t trade Felicity for anything, but I’d trade a lot of unnecessary subplots to give Laurel her life back.

(Final note: You want to come at us with the Laurel had no training and should never have been out in the field and blahblahblah but I just point you to Roy Harper and Thea Queen. Laurel is not the only offender.)

[darereport426]

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3.4.3 — SPMP:

1st + Review

From all my recent research and considering the work that I was building up towards FMP prior to Term 3. I thought I’ll be able to fuse them together and propose a new way of communicating the idea. This is the pitch deck I presented and my findings after the tutorial.

The project is inspired from content from my dissertation, where I investigated how the bedroom is deeply rooted into the female identity since so much of our culture is cultivated there. After all, the patriarchy has domesticated us. Despite the physical limitations, we were still able to cultivate a rich culture and have a valuable experience, engaging with the wider world. This can be seen through the posters of on our walls and the records we collect, as an example. 

I also started thinking about the ways girl hood is documented formally in art forms. This is where I found Laura Greenfield’s photo book called “Girl Culture”. I felt this is a good touch point, because it offered an honest portrayal of what it means to be a girl. It’s raw and untailored. It has a documentary feel to it and offers a “just is” observational perspective. This is a rare find. I feel like the documentation of girl culture and femininity is always edited, sanitised and “perfected”. Whether in other photographic works or in films.

In addition, when girl culture is talked about; the focus is more or less on sexuality. It feels like a limited point of view. There is more to our formative years beyond this. During this period, we begin to like things and start forming our own tastes. In a way, we’re laying out foundations of identities then. For instance, it has been reported that our music tastes peak at 14 (New York Times Article: https://www.nytimes.com/2018/02/10/opinion/sunday/favorite-songs.html).

I would like to offer something different beyond this narrative and this is where “being a fan” comes in. Like I mentioned earlier, this feels like a rite of passage for girls, especially in a musical context. This is embodied the most in boybands; they are propped up by a predominantly female fanbase. In turn, making it a feminine space.

I also refined my investigation to the K-Pop scene, because they have a very specific fan culture and they pretty much pioneered boybands. I decided to focus BTS and their fanbase Army, since they capture the zeitgeist of this culture the most; they are the moment.

I would like to offer something different beyond this narrative and this is where “being a fan” comes in. Like I mentioned earlier, this feels like a rite of passage for girls, especially in a musical context. This is embodied the most in boybands; they are propped up by a predominantly female fanbase. In turn, making it a feminine space.

I also refined my investigation to the K-Pop scene, because they have a very specific fan culture and they pretty much pioneered boybands. I decided to focus BTS and their fanbase Army, since they capture the zeitgeist of this culture the most; they are the moment.

I looked how this looks like offline and online. Although its most evident in concert venues, the way they experience fandom is mainly in the comfort of their own bedrooms; making it a very specific branch of “bedroom culture”. This can be evidenced by the content they make and share with each other online. A good example of this are their own self made videos posted on TikTok.

With a simple scroll through the tags, you can see the love and fun shared. I feel like this perspective is not shown often in the mainstream lens or the general narrative, when female culture is talked about.

It was then natural for me to look into the interpersonal relationships built and caused by this culture. I found this article (see image above, featuring take aways) that perfectly encapsulates why fandom culture is special. Again, since its emotional impact and the positive effects it has on people is often undocumented or overlooked. This article was heartwarming to read and shows how special fandom could be. Its easy to do this since its so specifically female and intrinsically tied with emotions, which is often frowned upon generally by society.

I also wanted to investigate the theoretical side to this too. In my research, I realised that people had tried to put this phenomenon into some theoretical contexts, referencing sociology to marketing. There was a conference held in Kingston University, dedicated to BTS earlier in the year. I’ve listed the papers/talks that I found interesting, focused on fandom culture (see image).

I feel like there’s a useful conversation taking place about this. Through this discovery, I feel like I can add more to this and there’s an audience waiting for more content about this subject.

This made me think about a documentary that I watched recently called “The Last Dance”. It documents Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bull’s legacy as a sports team, especially at their prime in the 1997 Play Offs. I admired how the documentary protects their legacy and its told in such a loving lens. I feel like there hasn’t been anything like this for their feminine counterparts (boyband and fan culture). Especially considering how the crowds and screaming can be found in both cultures, except that the audience’s gender is different (for the large part).

As I’m distilling my findings and trying to find my own conclusions, I came across this important quote by Dr.Epps-Robertson. If we wait for others to tell this particular story on feminine fan culture, it may not be an accurate portrayal of what it truly is and a lot of it is going to be lost.

In fact, its already is. At present, the majority of the stories that documents feminine fan culture is very negative. Its is selective its in portrayal. It likes to dwell on the foul behaviour. Although there is some negatives that comes out of this culture (stalking, obsession etc), it is not the only aspect that is made up of. It’s only a small fraction of it. They miss out on the joyful things that can come out from fandom and the community formed by it (e.g. TikToks, mentioned earlier). For the large part, they are misunderstood because the people who are documenting this are outsiders to this culture. Middle aged men writings and musings about music for women and experiences by young women will never be accurate critique of the culture. It is not meant for them and they will never understand.

It also made me think about how female passion is portrayed differently. I feel like this is not far of how this masked under the guise of hysteria; a belief that has harmed women for a long time. The prosecution of women for having emotions are deeply embedded into our history. Unlike in the Michael Jordan documentary, male fans are portrayed as passionate. Fangirls, on the other hand, are portrayed as crazy and insane. However, both are just displaying passion.

With all of that in mind, I wanted to take the matter in my own hands and create a mini-documentary, recording feminine passion and culture around it through a boyband focus (BTS particularly). I wanted to be able to protect this experience and tell it accurately.

This project is to document a unique girl culture, through an understanding and loving lens. It hopes to be a wholesome depiction of what it means to love and positive bonds it cultivates. The project will be for girls, by girls. From one fan, to another.

Obviously, I need to re-think how documentary could be presented. Quarantine has limited my options. However, I began my research by looking into the traditional documentaries and see how I can subvert it after.

“I used to be normal” is an interesting example to look into because its follows an interview style. The story comes from directly from the fangirls themselves. It captures their enthusiasm and wholesomeness well. I may not have the luxury of being able to follow people’s journeys across the span of 4 years like in documentary, but I can still conduct interviews via webcam.

“Beyond Clueless” and “Romantic Comedy” are good examples too. They are both documentaries told through archive material. This is an ideal technique to use as I can just use original content by the band and construct the narrative using it. These can be easily found online. More so, I won’t be violating any copyright laws as long as I keep the clips less than 30 seconds.

That said, I really wanted to use the idea of “falling in love through the screen”… because I feel it encapsulates the experience perfectly; this is where fangirl culture begins and ends… you discover the band and their music through your screen, whether through the phone or the computer… and you fall in love with them gain when you take pictures of them in real life when you attend their cultures… also, it is reminiscent of how they share with their community (through TikTok, Twitter and other forms of social medias).

I want to use personal videos to portray the narrative, combined with archive material such as online videos and concert footage. Mimicking the way they hold their phones up in concerts.

I also want to crowd source some memorabilia too. Another type of imagery to compliment the archive footage.

I also like the idea of potentially using google maps to mimic the concert experience (e.g. going to the venue with friends).

REVIEW

Unfortunately, during the review, I discovered that the idea too big for the timeframe and the limitations of the project. Despite being able to rethink the way the documentary could be presented, its still too big, especially considering how short the timeframe (documentaries take a long time to make) and its risky to wait for interviewees. Also, it was flagged up the narrative isn’t quite clear yet - I need to decide what is the story I wanted to tell.

At first, I felt disappointed in the review since I poured a lot of time into my research and thought I was building something that was viable. However, through hindsight, it wasn’t the right idea for the project. After much thought, it was still too close to my original FMP idea and I think I would disappoint myself if I can’t execute it in a way I originally wanted to. I think it would be best to execute this on a later date, when I have the means to do so.

It’s time to reflect on this and see what else I could potentially work with.  

[post-itpenny]

Story Time

So I decided to go ahead and post this. Enjoy and please feel free to comment or critique.

One-shot

Genre- Suspense

Warnings- Pennywise, Lovecraft references   

You had moved to Derry about a month ago and there were still stacks of boxes by the door, you had yet to get that fish tank you promised yourself as a birthday gift, and you had yet to have a single day of work that you did not come home complaining about.

You promised yourself that when you moved there was no way in the world you would go back to retail, ever. And the idea of being a barista at a small coffee shop sounded charming.

Not so much.

“I said a soy latte! S-O-Y! Did you not hear that?” The woman shouted across the counter at you. Her makeup wasn’t blended and her hair was held by enough hairspray to warrant caution near open flame. She had walked in wearing a threadbare leopard print jacket and a scowl that warned you of trouble ahead.

Well your gut never steered you wrong before.

Her latte (which you did put soy in) sat untouched on the counter as you forced your best ‘customer- service’ smile. “Don’t worry ma’am! I actually did put soy in your latte but had forgotten to write it on the cup. That was my mistake but the coffee is exactly as you ordered.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at you. “Oh no I know how you people work. You think I can’t taste the difference but guess what? I’m lactose intolerant! So I take one sip of this and I’ll be suing you all from the hospital! What do you say to that?”

“I would say that as someone who also has milk allergies I totally understand why you are worried but I promise you that I really did put soy in the latte as you asked. If it would make you feel better ma’am I’ll be happy to make you a new cup.”

So you did, which she then demanded a refund saying she should have her coffee for free since you tried to poison her, to which the manager came out and for once defended you. Which lead to the woman throwing her latte on the ground and stomping out the door. Which lead to your manager ordering you to clean up the mess with a warning that next time it was coming out of your paycheck.

Thanks boss.

That afternoon you found your feet dragging you to the small park near the coffee shop. It was a quiet little place with lots of trees and freshly painted benches. It had become an after work habit to come here to read. Since it was fall, this week’s choice had been of the spooky sort.

H.P. Lovecraft had always held a place in your heart ever since you had stumbled across him in the library back in high school. Though eerie, his writing was rather eloquent and you were such a sucker for a little mystery.

Plus, it earned you cool points with the goths, who scared the living daylights out of the three preps that liked to tease you for your braces.

Your Lovecraft collection was a small, but thick copy with a simple black cover. A gift from an aunt who swore you and her were Romanian gypsies in a past life. It was a well- loved thing as shown by dog-eared pages and the broken spine. Today’s choice was The Colour Out of Space which you had read about 5 times but it was still a great mystery.

You had just gotten to the part where they first introduce the well when the color red appeared in your vision. It was a balloon.

You looked up and saw a little kid, maybe 7 or 8 years old. With a face full of freckles and a missing tooth when he smiled, his knees were covered in band aids and a bike laid on the ground forgotten behind him.

“What ya reading?” He asked.

“Well,” you responded, “its kind of a scary story.”

“Cool! What’s it about?”

“I don’t know… I doubt your mom wants you talking to strangers, or hearing scary stories from them.”

“I’m not scared! I wasn’t scared of the clown that gave me a balloon, and he was creepy looking!”

“Clown?”

“There’s this clown giving away red balloons and he’s creepy looking.”

“All clowns are creepy looking.” You replied before snorting with laughter at the memory of the time a friend had punched a clown at a Scottish Games.

In the end the kid sat at your feet, pulling at the grass as you read the story out loud to him. He was a good listener, only interrupting occasionally to ask questions. When you finished you both stood up.

“So the thing was an alien? But it was just color, or was it light?”

“I’ve always thought of it being both but yeah it was an alien.”

It was nice end to a terrible day. One that was spoiled when you saw the boy’s missing poster two days later.

It was that afternoon back at the park you sat at a different bench, dread weighing down your belly. You open the book and try to combat the feeling with fear. Today’s selection was The Dunwich Horror.

Not two pages in and paranoia began bubble up. Another page in and the feeling was now overwhelming. Something cold and wet touched your shoulder. A filmy liquid now running down your sleeve. You looked up.

Teeth, rows and rows of teeth.

With a shriek you jumped up as the teeth bit down. There’s a crunching sound as the back of the bench was bitten into. You spin around to face it.

No teeth, the bench is fine, there’s a clown holding a red balloon.

Its costume looks as if it has been lost to time, faded silver and tattered, the red of its hair and pom-poms standing out against the fabric. Its make up is simple with a very odd take on the traditional exaggerated smile.

“Hidey ho friendo! My name is Pennywise, I’m the dancing clown here to turn any frown upside down!”

The clown says this with a slight shake of its body sending off a chorus of bells, you can’t help but crack a smile.

Why did you think it was something bad? It’s just some guy dressed as a clown…

But the paranoia is slow to listen, still bubbling at your insides.

“H-hi there.” You say with a small wave.

“Say there friend would you like a balloon? I’ve been giving them away to all the good kiddos all day and this is the last one. And look how it floats!”

It was rather pretty, for a balloon that is, and apart of you wanted to reach out and take it.

But…

“Um, thanks but why not let someone else have it. Aren’t they supposed to be for the kids?”

“Why yes friend you are so ab-so-lute-ly right! But there are none left in the park today so I would like you to have it!” He held the balloon out to you with a grin that revealed rabbit teeth. His eyes a bright blue that held the slightest hint of worry.

“Well, I…”

“Whats that?”

He pointed at your feet where your poor book now lay. Gingerly you picked the book up, your eyes not leaving the clown.

“It’s Lovecraft.” You answered. His head tilted slightly as if in confusion.

“You know H.P. Lovecraft. The horror writer?”

“Oh! Horror!”

The clown jumped over the bench and sat down looking up at you expectedly, quietly patting the spot next to him. Every nerve in your body screamed danger, danger, danger but you found yourself sitting down next to him.

Pennywise was also a good listener. Gasping at every moment of surprise nodding whenever you had to explain something to him. Strangely, when the monster began its rampage through the village the clown laughed. It was a weird laugh to be honest and it sent shivers down your spine. With the monster’s death he became quiet, almost remorseful, which you could agree it was a little sad.

You ended up reading The Call of the Cthulhu to him as well which he very much enjoyed the plot twist at the end. It was after you parted ways, only when you were halfway home, did you realize you were holding the balloon. Only when you passed the missing posters did you remember who that poor kid had met before meeting you.

The next day, despite what your gut was telling you, your feet carried you back to the park. Pennywise already waiting at the same bench as before. It was late so there was only time for one story, your choice being The Shadow Over Innsmouth which was a bit of a struggle to read as Pennywise continuously interrupted you with fish puns.

The next day you arrived with two coffees and a few spare cookies. You showed him your offering but he politely refused the coffee.

“Caffeine is no good for ol’ Pennywise’s digestion but those cookies…”

You took both drinks while he took the cookies, eating all of them in two handfuls, the face paint giving the illusion that his jaw was opening much wider than it physically should have been able to.

Today you chose a personal favorite, The Haunter of the Shadows, despite being someone afraid of the dark. The idea of a monster that could kill you when the lights were out was rather dreadful and as you read that fear creeped into your heart. It wasn’t until you were about halfway through that you realized the clown had been staring at you the whole time. His gaze intense, a slight bit of drool forming at the corner of his mouth. Unconsciously you slowed down your reading, as if prolonging the end would protect you from something. But soon enough you reached the narrators demise and now there was silence between you and your reading buddy.

Pennywise shifted so he was fully turned towards you, his eyes showing a strange yellow tint. “What’s the matter? Are you afraid?”

“What? No… I…”

“Oh dear friend it’s ok. Jacob was afraid of the dark too.”

“Jacob?”

The clown laughed, “why our friend Jacob! The one you read to! That was such a nice thing for you to do for him by the way. Since it was his last day and all…”

“His last day?”

“Alive.” The clown answered with a smiled that showed all his teeth.

Rows and rows of teeth.

You ran, faster than you ever thought you could. But in your panic you ran the wrong direction, deeper into the park.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

But you didn’t dare turn around, the sound of something close behind would not let you. Deeper into the trees you go and you swear the shadows are getting darker. As if evening has come three hours too early and in your mind a conclusion is forming.

“It’s the monster, the haunter…”

You trip.

As you fall you turn your neck to see.

“Hell-wind, titan-blur, black wings, the three- lobed burning eye…”

………………………………………….

The two sisters walked through the park hand in hand. One of them had a classmate disappear, a kid named Jacob, no one had seen him since beginning of the week. Their mother warning them to come straight home after school and stay together.

They rounded a corner before coming to a stop. There, sitting on a bench, was a clown. In one hand it held two bright red balloons, in the other was a very battered looking book.

“Well hello there friends! My name is Pennywise the Dancing Clown! How about you sit with ol’ Pennywise a while for story time?”

[atrocitycl]

GFriend - “Love Whisper” Review

(Music Video) / (Dance Practice)

GFriend – Love Whisper

Reviewed on September 23, 2017

While I do agree with many that this song is worth praising, I still find that there are some questionable aspects. Specifically, while many are praising the choruses in “Love Whisper,” I will challenge that point by arguing that, as beneficial as the choruses are, there are some downsides to them that fans have not necessarily discussed.  

Personal Message: I sincerely apologize to readers for not posting any reviews in twenty days or so. Moreover, to those who have requested reviews, I do apologize for not getting to those requests directly and am instead reviewing another song. The reason behind this is that, truthfully, I have yet to analyze those requested songs. I have, on the other hand, done all the analytical work for “Love Whisper” and merely need to write the review—hence why this review is prioritized ahead of requests when that is never the case. Thankfully, once this review is finished, I will promptly work on the requested reviews and hope to finish them both by next week. (I also have another bonus drama review in mind after a friend recommended another one to watch.) As for my absence, I have been incredibly busy with university work. On the positive side, however, with reviews being fairly more concise than usual and that I am still attempting to make my writing more concise (this is where my writing is oftentimes rightfully critiqued), I find that reviews will resume a normal schedule soon.

Onto this review, “Love Whisper” is GFriend’s latest comeback—though they have released an extended, different title track as of a few days ago. But, in a technical sense, I still consider “Love Whisper” their main comeback and a relevant one. Many fans and listeners have been praising this song—musically for Yuju’s part in the choruses, but also that conceptually GFriend has returned to their “standard sound.” (And for context, their prior comeback, “Fingertip,” was a different concept—both stylistically and musically.) While I do agree with many that this song is worth praising, I still find that there are some questionable aspects. Specifically, while many are praising the choruses in “Love Whisper,” I will challenge that point by arguing that, as beneficial as the choruses are, there are some downsides to them that fans have not necessarily discussed.  

_______________________________________________________

Song Score: 7/10 (6.50/10 raw score) - “Above average”

- Vocals: 6/10

- Sections: 7/10 (6.67/10 raw score)

Introduction, Verse, Pre-Chorus, Chorus, Verse, Pre-Chorus, Chorus, Bridge, Chorus, Conclusion

1.     Introduction: 6/10

2.     Verse: 6/10

3.     Pre-Chorus: 6/10

4.     Chorus: 8/10

5.     Bridge: 7/10

6.     Conclusion: 7/10

- Instrumental: 7/10

- Lyrics: 6/10

I can’t express my heart Like the nice breeze and the song we listened to together I feel good, especially today

Under the dazzling and clear sky On a day where sweat beads fall We’re holding hands and walking on top of the messy flower road I’m with you

I can hear it from anywhere if I listen When I open my ears to the trust you have in me Like your eyes that twinkle A precious story, I'll tell you Open your ears Our unforgettable voices and stories that are filled with my heart for you, flutter like a dream

Today was another gorgeous day I keep thinking about you all day I want to tell you--who is so kind I will send my heart on a cloud and tell you

A heart fluttering moment When rain drops fell without warning We held hands and ran on top of the messy flower road I’m with you

I can hear it from anywhere if I listen When I open my ears to the trust you have in me Like your eyes that twinkle A precious story, I'll tell you Open your ears Our unforgettable voices and stories that are filled with my heart for you, flutter like a dream

I will tell you more today I’ll gather my heart and fill it up [Instrumental break] I can feel you When I close my eyes, when I open my ears, I feel the trust you have in me

Like your eyes that twinkle A precious story, I’ll tell you Open your ears Our unforgettable voices, filled with my heart for you, flutter like a dream

_______________________________________________________

Analysis: First, though, let us discuss why many have been praising the song. Focusing on the chorus as this section will be our core topic, I do admit this section has been one of the best I have heard recently and even in general. The most appealing factor to it, I argue, is how the chorus functions in two differently ways: as a transitional build up, but also as a typical, climaxing point. With the first reason, listeners can note that the choruses begin with unison singing and the instrumental taking a heightened, amplified stance. Sonically this does not bring anything particularly important, but structurally this almost creates a pre-chorus within the chorus itself; in other words, the choruses start off by creating even more hype and excitement in addition to the actual pre-choruses. Thus, when the second half hits, the choruses become even more mesmerizing. Yuju’s vocal belting now appears to be even more satisfying given that the song finally reaches an actual, musical climax and furthermore, with every other section focusing more on building up and less on aural appeal, Yuju’s singing in contrast seems even more tuneful and engaging.

Now in a more general sense, there are also other praises to the song’s composition. For example, listeners should also admire that a majority if not every sound at play tends to complement other sounds. Drawing on a concrete example, let us discuss the drums. Rather than opting for drums and beats that hit harder and sound deeper, many of the beats in “Love Whisper” carry a tap-like, softer sound. This, however, is a brilliant decision by the composers as the beats now easily mesh with GFriend’s vocal style in the song—specifically, that of being gentler and higher pitched. This is also potentially why the bass line functions as it currently does: it is discreet throughout the song, only poking out in the spotlight during the pre-choruses. Elaborating on what I mean, given that “Love Whisper” is, overall, a lighter, softer, and higher pitched song, any deeper sounds utilized—such as the bass—are kept down and hidden in order to preserve that key, signature sound the song has established.

Nevertheless, as mentioned earlier, “Love Whisper” is not without its flaw. Namely, the choruses that are seemingly perfect are, ironically, the song’s biggest flaw—in an indirect sense, that is. I find that the song overly relied on its choruses. For one, every section but the choruses are plain in both structure and sound. The verses and pre-choruses, for example, merely progress the song along but do not quite contribute anything in a musical sense. This is why the singing in all the other sections is simpler and lacks the type of tuneful depth that Yuju shows off in the choruses. Even the choruses’ first half is not exempt: this part merely functions on a structural level as the unison singing merely indicates that there is an upcoming climax, but in of itself the unison singing does not allure listeners. All in all, then, the point is this: “Love Whisper” thrives almost solely off the choruses’ second half, the half where Yuju’s intensive, complex and tuneful lines come into action. Everything else in the song merely builds up to that point or attempts to accelerate the song in that direction, and that is what troubles me. Unlike songs where the choruses are the highlight and yet, every section still carries prominent weight, I personally find that the composers emphasized the choruses excessively to the point that everything but the choruses is dull.

But, in the end, perhaps the choruses’ glory is in fact due to the other sections purposefully being tamer in comparison. I find that this is not the only option and that one can make an incredible, capturing chorus without having to sacrifice other sections. Nonetheless, “Love Whisper” is still a fantastic song. Although the other sections are more plain in comparison, they still function decently and are not genuinely lacking; the issue is that “Love Whisper” could have been even better than it currently is—but as seen, it still is a solidly composed song.

_______________________________________________________

This actually might be the shortest review I have ever written, but it might also be the first time where I managed to get my ideas across without excessive, unnecessary details and without being too scarce in explanations. I am excited if this is the case as I can definitely resume a more reliable reviewing schedule if all reviews can be this brief yet argumentative.

VIXX LR’s and Sunmi’s latest songs have been requested, and I will finish them by next week. Once again, I apologize to requesters and readers for not being more active with reviews, but I do appreciate the understanding—and of course, for this review, whether one reads or skims it. Look forward to more reviews to come and until then, “I feel the trust you have in me” to be more dedicated with my studies so that I have time to keep up with reviews. Look forward to VIXX LR’s “Whisper” as the next review.

[pebblesandjamjam]

Critical Jam #12: An Unflinching Look

Welcome to the final Critical Jam, J.A. Micheline’s monthly column on criticism.

This series began by positing itself as “an attempt to take an unflinching look at what we do,” so it is only fitting that it ends with an unflinching look at what I have done with it across the last year.

As an artist--and really, as a thinker--I have generally been interested in art as a method of self-discovery. My fictional work and my criticism, at their best, have both invariably revealed fears, joys, concerns, and beliefs that I was hiding from myself. Criticism is partially enthralling as it seeks to unearth truths and solve mysteries: What does this text mean? Why does it mean this? How did it mean this even if that wasn’t its intent? I use these questions to understand the world, myself, and texts in similar fashions. So it follows that occasionally it becomes necessary to turn my sights on my own criticism and learn.

Though I appear firm and certain on this particular angle in the column’s inception,  “Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?”, the implication of criticism as its own artistic endeavor that runs through the text is not a belief I realized I had until the piece itself was written. This is perhaps most evident in the fact that I never actually say so. I get as far as the idea of criticism as existing its own end, but I don’t take this all the way to its obvious conclusion: that I view this work as art, with its own aesthetics and performances. It’s not a massive loss, but at the same time, the piece would have been stronger if I’d known exactly where I was arguing from. I wasn’t quite sharp enough to see what I was doing at that point. I couldn’t See that in myself, just yet.

The thread continues in the fourth installment, “On True Criticism,” in which I very uncharacteristically hedge about the notion of criticism as art--a tepid ‘could’ instead of strong ‘is’--but it wasn’t until two months ago, in the tenth piece “We Must Be Better,” that I was able to stand firm about this idea. Amazingly, it happens so quickly, in a piece that focuses more on the political responsibilities of criticism than the nature of criticism itself, that if you blink may miss it:  “[...] as much as criticism is art,” I say, “–often some mystifying combination of eloquence, delicacy, and brutality–it is also, as you know, work.” It took nine months (and nine pieces!) for the strength of my rhetoric to evolve from subtextual premise to frank statement.

I’m particularly satisfied that this formal declaration snuck its way into “We Must Be Better,” as one of my main critiques of the column is the seemingly wide gulf between my discussions of the form as art versus as a political tool. If criticism is art and art is politics and criticism is politics, then my attempts at bringing these elements together as a critic of criticism especially could have been more rigorous. A third of the pieces address criticism as an interrogation of systemic injustice--but they seem more externally responsive than cohesive to the larger body of work. That is, it is evident to me that I have written them in response to particular emotions or events rather than, as I have done in the other set of pieces, simply exploring an idea that is interesting to me. There’s a sense of urgency or despair that is fitting to the material, but not quite fitting with the other eight texts.

It may be that this is just the reality of criticism involving systemic injustice. These are matters of life and death, so their writings will inevitably be fraught with emotion. But I remain generally dissatisfied by how lacklustre some of this work feels, rhetorically speaking. “All Rhetoric Matters,” does not feel particularly moving because it is basic. The first portion--All Lives Matter and Not All Men as a critical unit--is passingly interesting as I don’t think I have seen it elsewhere, but on the whole, the piece didn’t bring me anywhere new. Instead, it just saw me repeating the same things I’ve said on Twitter in a more cohesive fashion. It is nice that I have written this all together in one place, but it is more akin to an FAQ response than robust criticism that I feel truly proud of. This is in part because I am constantly having to repeat myself on this score and am therefore bored. This is also in part because the discourse surrounding marginalized issues is so low that it’s impossible to get into, say, the deeper possible emotional significance of a numerical value. But some of it must also be my own shortcomings.

Looking over many of these pieces, they feel necessary but neither inspiring nor critically fascinating. There’s no swagger. I didn’t stunt. I didn’t dance. I can push myself harder, even if what surrounds continues to try to drag me to their level. I could have done so. I should have.

There are angles available to me that I could have taken more time to parse, angles that touch upon art, injustice, and criticism all at once. For example, I mention “sovereignty” in what is likely the best of my pieces on injustice within this series, “It’s About Ethics in Marginalized Criticism.” Here, at least, I have done well to meticulously walk down several of the ethical quandaries of criticism involving a fellow marginalized person and, not unlike this piece, to criticize my own criticism. But sovereignty is an idea that crops up in the work somewhat unexpectedly. It’s an idea I remember floating at the time of writing, but never really digging into. A quick Command-F reveals that the notion of sovereignty within marginalized politics and issues appears five times within the essay. But at no point do I actually draw out the idea of sovereignty, what associations that word has, and how it has functioned politically. Instead of making the same old furious and basic motions, I could have completed a critical assessment of sovereignty and marginalized people/critics as nations living within nation-states. I have to demand more of myself. I read most of these overtly political selections and feel not just exhaustion but also regret about my performance as an artist. I can barely look at “A Right to be Hostile in 2016.” Despite their being the most important pieces, they also feel the weakest. It’s disappointing that, with the stakes as high as they are, I did not also have it in me to make something beautiful. It’s disappointing--but I suppose it also does make sense.

By now it is quite evident that I spend a lot of time asking for higher performance from myself--so the discovery of calm and optimism as a theme in this column has been pleasant. Much of the work comes from a place of warmth, an attempt to tell my peers that they’re working very hard, that they’re doing just fine where they are. Of course, I can See now that I was only telling myself. I view myself as a pessimist/realist, but this column seems to land me firmly on the optimist/idealist spectrum, which is very peculiar. After defining criticism as art, I go on to defend 10/10 reviews, welcome anyone and everyone into the critical field, celebrate critical positivity in the face of pressures to be negative, and present conflicts of interest as a weak challenge to our prowess. It’s a very unexpectedly “believe in me who believes in you” line of criticism and not too different, actually, from a line of criticism that treats the work as sacred, and therefore critics (artists!) as such.

My favorite piece, both in this vein and overall, must be “Psalm for the Newly Anointed.” In truth, it  feels like the natural conclusion for the column. My writing on scanlations, which follows it, was interesting and asked a great many questions--but I did not feel that it truly belonged with the rest of the work, much in the same way that the more political pieces felt discordant. Perhaps because there were too many questions and not enough confidence. Or maybe simply because the subject was manga, rather than Western comics. As a whole, this column seems to suffer on the fronts of tone and pacing. But the psalm!

I cannot deny feeling that the psalm is almost perfect. I regret, perhaps, linking to some old writing about postmodernism that I now think could have stood to be more rigorous and precise, but otherwise the piece seems quite strong. What I like most is that it pulls on themes of previous pieces as well as itself--criticism as a grassroots endeavor, Seeing, the creation of a critical canon by citation of a peer. But it takes all of that and shapes them into a narrative that first, is consideration of capitalist and postmodernist hierarchies, and then evolves into one of the spirit, commenting even on the function of the spirit itself. The language is good, the frameworks are good, but what is really good is that this, more than anything, is representative of how I think and feel about criticism. There’s an element of spirit and holiness that comes into the work--evidenced by the evocation of religious language in the piece, certainly, but also scattered in the language I have chosen to use here.

The connection between the coldness of the work and the warmth of its love, even in anguish, is the key to everything that I do. I show affection to myself and to others by criticizing. I see better for myself, better for us all. I expect more. I insist, truly, on being my own god.

A year on, I can largely look on these works without despair. This may change in two years or three, but for now, the work still feels good. I’d hoped, I think, to spark conversation among my peers and was only successful once or twice--but still, what little I’ve done here has been an interesting experiment and largely worth it, if only for creating one piece that I love deeply. Critical Jam ends here, but the need for self-improvement and self-examination from myself and my peers and my field does not.

Thanks for coming.

I appreciated all of you and all of this.

I’m sure I’ll see you again very soon.

  Previous: What We Talk About When We Talk About Scanlations

Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed this piece, feel free to click here and buy me a coffee or follow me on Twitter at @elevenafter. 

[vaczine]

Walt Cessna

You may think you know or understand me from the suggested and often misunderstood visceral & visual tone of my posted work. You MAY, but you will never ever actually come to any sort of conclusion unless you choose and succeed at looking deep into the self polarizing pathos and DIY till I die determination that informs every facet of my creative & hopefully thought provoking artistic, political and personal stance. If your spending an overwhelming period of better utilized time questioning the purpose, passion and correct point of view of those you deem .not on your side and couldn't actually care less about their indifference and non inclusion of your world anyway, it is perhaps time for you to social media disconnect and redirect the inspirational sparks and shared creative synergy that your on-line presence not only inspires, but informs anyone seeking some deeper meaning and lasting purpose regarding the manner and socially awkward mayhem of your experiences and the at times long hesitation of wait and see the final destination of our daily life experiences that we over emphasize through bullet point rifled personally potent postings promoting our self delusional appreciation and understanding of the self stating shared synergy that fuels our current creative desires and the never ending search for a perfect new medium in which to showcase them. Picture frames ans pretty much any type of visual not displaying itself correctly on some sort of screen set at a 3 second shift of images that leaves the pictures haphazardly etched into our conscious. It;s been slightly amusing seeing the often incorrect re-appropriation of my past works that when originally presented labeled me a pornographer of dubious and damaged integrity blithely showing off my ex-hooker, forever a junkie, AIDS relate-able personal drama and self persecution laced presentation of what polite people refer to as my artistic work. Autistic twerk is more like it. It all starts to make sense suddenly and my personally motivated switch of creative mediums comes across casually and gives no hint at others poorly perceived notions of how to maintain, manage and virtually manifest the clearest and most accurate version exactly how, where, when, what & why I am initiating a long awaited and previously posed with move from digital photography to digital film. It's not that photographs or random still images no longer incite inspiration within me, but i have a renewed creative hunger to tell my visually rich, moment caught in time pictorial perceptions of the world as I continue to come upon it in personally nuanced and arresting pictures that often wear their intensity like a much maligned and majorly misconstrued social handicap of frankly preposterous and selfishly painful decrees decrying ,owns own carefully and life long curated correctness. I'm 52 and I've been pretty much taking photographs since I was just dropped out of high school and living part time in the Chelsea Hotel as anti- fashion terrorist and 7th Ave knock off re-designer self publishing the first of 5 indie publication The Key. Al it took was an unsolicited paragraph of self reverential praise to take it from a Xeroxed & hand stapled $1 a copy fast food fashion inspired teen dream novelty to fashion designer approved & super supported legends in their own lifetimes hyper surreal 80s shooting style stars like Norma Kamali & Way bandy introduced Stephen Sprouse to secure is a publishing deal literally on my 18th birthday in what would come to be the best realized and inspired 1984 year of my life. I got to work with the essentially inspired likes of Teri Toye, truly the first notable and visually inescapable Transgender fashion cult level model courtesy of the two other points of a supremely inspired and inspiring collaboration between the three of them as downtown designer, muse & Nico - model, aspired, casually confrontational It girl 80s hybrid that paid due homage to Warjol;s Edie now known as Sprouse & Meisel's fashion franken-weenie of perfect for rthe times sculpted androgyny that wore its scandalous reputation like a badge of maybe it just might be true dis-honor. The late 80s defining Avedon Vogue covers just as world famous make-up artist as his oft times super model before it was deemed hashtag worthy Brooke Sheilds. Way was very approachable, much like most of the pop art world of culturally correct pre-internet celebrities that never had to fear with cell phones and social media to further distract from whatever way out wild and personally soiled to random extinction proclivities of all too often misunderstood or simply ignored, looked on as unnecessary critiques on those who call their arts performing. The 70s / 80s gold plated period of utter pop(t) culture perfection has never been replaced or more relevant. it continues to inform a host of style servers and visual vanguards who set the tone for all we deem fashionable, fierce & transformative. Going back to the good time girl prohibition era flappers and their self professed need / desire to dance their cares away and have the best time of their life till death to the current state of street style inspired rebooted and redefining world of Haute Couture once again inspired and defined by Saint Laurent, Dior and Gucci albeit each famed and style setting house now under radical redefining fashion focus that manages to respectfully pay nu rage homage to the brands history, but seek ways to incorporate the often awkward proportions of urban influenced street style that when seen through the eyes of the Vetements infused mind rewerking the always sublime mod style proportion savvy design mind helming an extremely personal and stylishly over wrought almost radical re-imagining of the deeply respected and ultra icronic experimental & visionary couture house Balenciaga..There were skirts fashion from actual and completely randomly sourced car mats deftly shuffled into a collection that closed with 9 over the top and way over-sized almost to the point of unwearable proportions that instantly achieve Avedon photo moment in fashion history correctness as they unapologetic-ally praise the design notion of ultra future modern vintage retro photograph of culturally current creations that take inspiration from bold silhouettes and a generous, almost overly lavish attention to cut and proportion that in some cases requires the pop kulture class-ism of 60's Irving Penn influenced and perfectly posed presence of the cult model of Funny Fave infamous-ness Dovima to pull off with a level of panache and a heightened sense of strictly amplified drama punctuated by perfectly arched eyebrows framing equally attentive and slightly rich bitch super vixen fierceness that can't be faked unless it;s Evita moment Mario Testino in his 90s Vanity Fair primed for all time Madonna. People who talk shit about the should hsve known better bitch i'm Madonna. Looking at the aggressively fearless proponents of radically almost unwearable proportions executed in a modern assimilation of not always unawkward siljouettes that altrhough not as gar out and frankly unbothered by anything other than it;s own correctness Comme des Garcon, rather a redefined riff on the retro notions of business attire and women wearing versions of men's tailoring, sparked by YSL in his properly Helmut Newton 70s style blip of his Le Smoking tuxedo influenced suits further pushed into androgyny by slicked back short hair cuts that forever set the standard for Bowie pioneered gender bending ensembles that were majorly loathed or deeply loved when first introduced. The insane radical yet pop culturally relevant instantly pop cult classic correctness of Ziggy Stardust seamlessly morphed into YSl man tailored sexually ambiguous models mane even more infamous in their provocative, often sexually charge/d photographs often shot in dark Parisian alleys and dramatically street light lit lending an air of instant style reformation of perfectly potent only werked correctly in the 70;s mix of lady like femininity mixed with an elegantly irreverent masculine tailoring that too easily wrought to mind the gay disco dollies not yet commonly referred to as lesbians, yet unflinchingly setting the style trend that made Helmut Newton dangerously exotic and first introduce the idea of super exclusively expensive made by hand atelier attended Haute Couture that today seems more Ready-to-Couture with it;s street styled leanings and brave style assertions that are elegantly askance. The often classic attention to cut and uber refined measures of stitching that further accented the carefully crafted couture cut that is nothing like your basic, badly cut and boring boxy jacket. The New Look symbolized and introduced Christian Dior's legendary post war arrival that stirred a full on fashion freak out for bucking war time fabric restrictions with liberated and lavish for the times over indulgences of fabric measured by multiple yards and a retro regal stance when wearing the often sharply pinched and flared waist suit jackets that had a multi gored and just above the ankle length skirt that every designer in time since had offered their own version. Print Vogue is a bore, but vogue.com gives you every single look shown during global fashion week and to the point well worded break downs freshly devoid of attitude and detail driven to blogger extremes. This just finished past season was over loaded with a plethora of just the right dose of retro inspired vintage sportswear taken to wryly ironic or deathly drastic extremes. Which is probably why I love it and have actually been inspired to write fashion inspired posts in over a decade. - Walt Cessna

Balenciaga Fall / Winter 2017

[armyhealth9-blog]

Another January, Another Paleo-Bashing Session… Or Was It?

This Year the Annual Diet Reviews Didn’t Have Their Usually Sharp Teeth Out for the Paleo Diet

It’s January. Which means another flurry of online diet rankings and reviews. At the Paleo Diet®, we await them with the rapt anticipation of a school boy sweating his double-dare challenge punishment. You don’t know what it’s going to be. You just know it’s going to hurt.

In a strange way, we came to wear our dead last ranking at US News & World Report as a badge of pride. Instead of discouraging paleo dieters, the ranking seemed to make them feel part of an idea that was not appreciated in its time. With a certain combination of self-awareness and a little self-delusion the rankings put paleo dieters on a shelf with figures like Socrates, Giordana Bruno, and Galileo. Just with better foods – hemlock isn’t part of any nutritious breakfast – and a lot less execution.

But this year, something felt different about the rankings.

In 2019, US News swapped our dead last for 33d out of 41 diets and even begrudgingly admitted “the Paleo Diet is relatively convenient these days.” Sure, they still didn’t recommend the diet and used lots of subtle qualifiers like “little” and “difficult,” but the sharp teeth of previous years simply weren’t there.

Another January review of diets on the UK’s largest health website, NHS, admitted some pretty strong positives such as “the diet is simple and doesn’t involved calorie counting.” Their final verdict was still mixed, but it didn’t have the dismissiveness we’re used to.

So why the change?

Honestly, we don’t know. One possibility is the fact that this year, the bulk of US News’ write up included a review of recent Paleo Diet studies. They still couldn’t resist pointing out “small” sample sizes and a study where the Mediterranean diet was comparable, but the fact was, the studies were favorable.

In the past, US News attacked the Paleo Diet based on a misconception that there was “no science behind it.” But now with a rapidly growing body of positive research (see the full list at the bottom of this article) and a recent review rigorously evaluating all of the diets listed in the US News report [1], the misconceived “no science” argument has simply lost its bite.

Now if We Could Just Address the Other Misconceptions

Ultimately you, as the reader, needs to draw your own conclusions about the Paleo Diet or any diet. Do your own review. Just base it on the science and the actual diet – not misconceptions.  Too often we read a criticism and think “that’s a good point… too bad they’re not talking about the Paleo Diet.”

The list of studies – positive and negative – on the website, will give you the science to draw your own conclusions. So, let’s address the misconceptions in the recent reviews that have been used to criticize the Paleo Diet. That way you can draw your conclusions based on the actual diet:

1. Excluding grains and dairy leads to nutrient deficiencies

“Most versions of the paleo diet exclude key food groups, raising the potential for nutritional deficiencies.” This claim in the NHS review is one of the most common critiques of the Paleo Diet. But this claim is based on the misconception that these foods are simply eliminated and not replaced or substituted by Paleo-friendly foods.

Dr Cordain addressed this misconception in an article titled Eliminating Non-Paleo Foods Improves Nutrient Density. The main point of the article was that grains and dairy are two of the most nutrient-poor categories of foods we can eat. So, replacing calories from these foods with calories from nutrient-rich foods like vegetables and fish actually improves the nutrient density of our diets.

To make this point, Dr Cordain used a peer-reviewed Mediterranean Diet meal plan which was already nutrient dense. He replaced the non-Paleo foods with isocaloric Paleo-friendly foods, and the nutrient density of the meal plan improved.

We’ll give the NHS review credit for stating that the nutrient deficiencies can be avoided with “careful substitution,” though we’d argue that a diet based on low-nutrient density grains is the one that needs careful substitutions.

Finally, it’s worth pointing out that two of the critical nutrients that critics claim we lose by eliminating grains and dairy are folic acid and vitamin D. Grains and dairy are not naturally high in either nutrient – they are fortified. Vegetables, which replace grains in the Paleo Diet are naturally high in folate.

2. It’s an all-protein protein/meat-based diet

US News finished their 2019 review by saying “these diets contain more than the government’s recommendation that between 10 to 35 percent of daily calories come from protein.” Likewise, the NHS review claimed that “most versions of the diet encourage eating a lot of meat, which runs counter current health advice.”

The Paleo Diet does not recommend consuming more than 35 percent of our calories from protein. In fact, Dr Loren Cordain addressed this issue in both the original Paleo Diet book, and series of articles pointing out that eating more than about 35 percent of our calories from protein can lead to a fatal condition called rabbit starvation [2]. Hunter-gatherer diets ranged from 19-35 percent which is within the government recommendations [3, 4].

To take this a step further, meat is calorically dense. Meaning a small volume of meat packs in a lot of calories. With a typical western diet, the calories from meat are quickly overshadowed by high-carb processed foods which are calorically even denser. A six-ounce ribeye may pack 36 grams of protein (equal to about 150 kcal,) but it’s quickly dwarfed by that 600-calorie high-carb and -fat dessert or bag of Cheetos eaten after dinner.

The western diet, with its reliance on grains, makes it easy to keep protein around 10 to 15 percent of daily calories. But a Paleo Diet avoids these high-calorie processed foods. So, to keep protein at a healthy ratio, we must balance meat with vegetables and fruit which have a very low caloric density.

In other words, we have to eat a lot of plant food!

By volume, a typical Paleo Diet is less than 10 percent animal protein. Vegetables and fruit represent the bulk of what we eat.

3. “Caveman”

US News started their review by stating “if the caveman didn’t eat it, you shouldn’t either.” This is a subtle, but important misconception. Many critics like to call it a “caveman” diet. That conjures up the image of a brutish man draped in furs who carries a club and eats nothing but meat. His life is short and brutish and not a life we would want to replicate. Notice that the focus is even on “man.” How many old Loony Toons cartoons showed cavemen bashing women over the head and dragging them by their hair. There is nothing positive about “caveman.”

However, it is easier to criticize a diet when it is associated with an inaccurate and negative stereotype. Case in point, in his critique of the Paleo Diet, Bill Nye used the stereotype to great effect, literally dressing an actor as a caveman:

(Figure 1: Taken from Bill Nye Saves the World)

I wrote an article for the Paleo Diet website addressing his critique. As a fan of Bill Nye, I had hoped for some good scientific arguments, but all I saw were inaccuracies and misconceptions. And at the center of all of them was the “caveman” concept.

The truth is that the Paleo Diet is based on hunter-gatherer societies that have existed throughout the world for most of history. Many of them lived in forested regions, in the great plains, and even in igloos. Few carried clubs or lived in caves. The authentic photo below is a much truer image of hunter-gatherers:

(Figure 2: photo of authentic hunter-gatherers)

If we’re going to use a stereotype, I would recommend watching the wonderful 1990 movie Dances with Wolves where Kevin Costner’s character was so enamored by the rich life of Native American hunter-gatherers, he gave up his western identity. In fact, a major portion of the movie focused on the purity of the buffalo hunt and subsequent feast. Their culture was rich with unique foods and dietary habits. One great example is their invention of pemmican which Dr Cordain covered thoroughly in a recent article.

The Paleo Diet is based on hunter-gatherer societies not “cavemen.” Any serious and unbiased review of the diet should not use the term.

4. We are guessing at what our Paleolithic ancestors ate

This is in fact true. We don’t know exactly what ancient hunter-gatherers ate and often our records of even recent hunter-gatherer diets are incomplete [4-7]. That’s not the misconception.

The misconception is that the Paleo Diet tries to perfectly recreate the exact diet of our Paleolithic ancestors [8, 9]. That is impossible for two reasons. First, many of the foods that existed then do not exist now. Second, there was no one diet. Hunter-gatherers living by the equator ate very differently from hunter-gatherers who lived in the plains, who again ate very differently from Inuit populations. If anything, the research on hunter-gatherer diets makes a strong argument for individualized nutrition [4].

The danger of this misconception is that critics use it to say that we can’t perfectly replicate paleolithic diets, so the Paleo Diet is a sham.

The truth is that the Paleo Diet uses ethnographic data to create a template for better human nutrition. Put another way, we know that the current Western Diet is unhealthy and leads to the diseases of civilization. So, what is better: starting with a diet that we know is unhealthy, or starting with a diet that is analogous to the diet we evolved around?

And while we don’t know exactly what our paleolithic ancestors ate, we do know what they didn’t eat – grain products, refined sugar, processed foods, vegetable oils, and dairy.

The Biggest Misconception That’s Lost Its Bite: It is Not Based on Science

This is the misconception that has given critics of the Paleo Diet their sharpest teeth and motivated US News to rank the Paleo Diet dead last for years.

It is also the argument that critics can no longer rely on.

For years, critics claimed that there were no peer-reviewed studies or meta-analyses demonstrating the efficacy of the Paleo Diet. At one time, this was in fact true. But the conclusion they then drew – that the diet wasn’t based on science – was a step too far that required a misconception of the scientific process itself.

As it was explained to me in grade school, the scientific process starts with a scientist or group of scientists reviewing the existing research on a subject. Next, these scientists develop a novel theory based on that research. Finally, studies are conducted to test the theory.

What’s important is that every theory (even the most groundbreaking) had a point where they were pure theory without any research to back them up. That does not mean there was no science behind them.

Take the example of one of the greatest scientists – Albert Einstein. Einstein essentially never conducted a research study in his life. His theories of special relativity (1905) and general relativity (1916) were based mostly on thought experiments and past research. Yet, within a few years, these theories had revolutionized Physics, despite the fact that the first experiment to validate special relativity – a fascinating study by Sir Arthur Eddington showing the bending of light – wasn’t conducted until 1919. Fourteen years later. But if that feels long, look at the theory of general relativity which was contingent upon the existence of gravitational waves. Their existence wasn’t proved until 2016 – exactly 100 years later. Yet no one ever claimed that relativity was “based on no science.”

The Paleo Diet is also a theory. It was the result of decades spent by researchers like Loren Cordain, Ph.D., Boyd Eaton, Ph.D., and Staffan Lindeberg, Ph.D. studying the existing science in the fields of nutrition, anthropology and evolutionary biology.

Just like all science – even relativity – paleolithic nutrition had a point where it was a theory and no studies had been conducted to validate it. But it was a misconception for critics to claim it was not based on science. It was based on decades of science. Its only crime was being at the theory stage of the scientific process.

Fortunately, that has changed. Since US News leveled their first review claiming “no science” over 40 studies have been conducted. And most of them have demonstrated favorable results in terms of weight loss, inflammation, and health.

Ironically, the lack of a proper scientific process in US News rankings may have motivated a 2017 review in Nutrients which applied a true systematic review process to the 38 diets in the US News rankings at the time. The review looked only at diets that didn’t require calorie restrictions or supplements which reduced the list to 20 diets.

Of those 20, only seven had high-quality scientific clinical trials evaluating their effectiveness in terms of weight loss. Those diets were the Atkins, DASH, Glycemic-Index, Mediterranean, Ornish, Zone, and of course the Paleo Diet. The review identified two clinical trials that demonstrated both short-term and long-term weight loss on the Paleo Diet. The authors stated “the findings of this review are not in line with current recommendations of the Dietary Guidelines Advisory Committee which state that diets with less than 45% of calories as carbohydrates are not more successful than other diets for long-term weight loss (12 months.) [1]

It can’t be over-emphasized that while, US News and World Report ranked the Paleo Diet at the bottom of the list based on the “lack of science,” a proper scientific review of all 38 diets, placed the Paleo Diet among the seven with actual scientific backing.

It’s no wonder the US News review is starting to lose its bite.

Current Paleo Diet Studies Up to 2019

2007

Lindeberg, S., et al., A Palaeolithic diet improves glucose tolerance more than a Mediterranean-like diet in individuals with ischaemic heart disease. Diabetologia, 2007. 50(9): p. 1795-1807.

2008

Osterdahl, M., et al., Effects of a short-term intervention with a paleolithic diet in healthy volunteers. Eur J Clin Nutr, 2008. 62(5): p. 682-5.

2009

Frassetto, L.A., et al., Metabolic and physiologic improvements from consuming a paleolithic, hunter-gatherer type diet. Eur J Clin Nutr, 2009. 63(8): p. 947-55.

Jonsson, T., et al., Beneficial effects of a Paleolithic diet on cardiovascular risk factors in type 2 diabetes: a randomized cross-over pilot study. Cardiovasc Diabetol, 2009. 8: p. 35.

Klonoff, D.C., The beneficial effects of a Paleolithic diet on type 2 diabetes and other risk factors for cardiovascular disease. J Diabetes Sci Technol, 2009. 3(6): p. 1229-32.

2010

Jonsson, T., et al., A paleolithic diet is more satiating per calorie than a mediterranean-like diet in individuals with ischemic heart disease. Nutr Metab (Lond), 2010. 7: p. 85.

2013

Clemens, Z., et al., Childhood absence epilepsy successfully treated with the paleolithic ketogenic diet. Neurol Ther, 2013. 2(1-2): p. 71-6.

Jonsson, T., et al., Subjective satiety and other experiences of a Paleolithic diet compared to a diabetes diet in patients with type 2 diabetes. Nutr J, 2013. 12: p. 105.

Ryberg, M., et al., A Palaeolithic-type diet causes strong tissue-specific effects on ectopic fat deposition in obese postmenopausal women. J Intern Med, 2013. 274(1): p. 67-76.

2014

Boers, I., et al., Favourable effects of consuming a Palaeolithic-type diet on characteristics of the metabolic syndrome: a randomized controlled pilot-study. Lipids Health Dis, 2014. 13: p. 160.

Carter, P., et al., A Mediterranean diet improves HbA1c but not fasting blood glucose compared to alternative dietary strategies: a network meta-analysis. J Hum Nutr Diet, 2014. 27(3): p. 280-97.

Mellberg, C., et al., Long-term effects of a Palaeolithic-type diet in obese postmenopausal women: a 2-year randomized trial. Eur J Clin Nutr, 2014. 68(3): p. 350-7.

Talreja, D., et al., Impact of a Paleolithic Diet on Modifiable Cardiovascular Risk Factors. Journal of Clinical Lipidology, 2014. 8(3): p. 341.

Tóth, C. and Z. Clemens, Type 1 diabetes mellitus successfully managed with the paleolithic ketogenic diet. Vol. 5. 2014.

Whalen, K.A., et al., Paleolithic and Mediterranean diet pattern scores and risk of incident, sporadic colorectal adenomas. Am J Epidemiol, 2014. 180(11): p. 1088-97.

2015

Bligh, H.F., et al., Plant-rich mixed meals based on Palaeolithic diet principles have a dramatic impact on incretin, peptide YY and satiety response, but show little effect on glucose and insulin homeostasis: an acute-effects randomised study. Br J Nutr, 2015. 113(4): p. 574-84.

Frassetto, L.A., et al., Metabolic and physiologic improvements from consuming a paleolithic, hunter-gatherer type diet. Eur J Clin Nutr, 2015. 69(12): p. 1376.

Manheimer, E.W., et al., Paleolithic nutrition for metabolic syndrome: systematic review and meta-analysis. Am J Clin Nutr, 2015. 102(4): p. 922-32.

Masharani, U., et al., Metabolic and physiologic effects from consuming a hunter-gatherer (Paleolithic)-type diet in type 2 diabetes. Eur J Clin Nutr, 2015. 69(8): p. 944-8.

Pastore, R.L., J.T. Brooks, and J.W. Carbone, Paleolithic nutrition improves plasma lipid concentrations of hypercholesterolemic adults to a greater extent than traditional heart-healthy dietary recommendations. Nutr Res, 2015. 35(6): p. 474-9.

Stomby, A., et al., Diet-induced weight loss has chronic tissue-specific effects on glucocorticoid metabolism in overweight postmenopausal women. Int J Obes (Lond), 2015. 39(5): p. 814-9.

Talreja, A., et al., CRT-601 The VA Beach Diet Study: An Investigation Of The Effects Of Plant-based, Mediterranean, Paleolithic, And Dash Diets On Cardiovascular Disease Risk. 2015. 8(2 Supplement): p. S41.

2016

Dolan C, C.A., Davies N, Markofski M. , Effects of an 8-week Paleo dietary intervention on inflammatory cytokines, in American Physiological Society Conference, Inflammation, Immunity and Cardiovascular Disease. 2016: Westminster, CO. p. pp 40-41.

Fontes-Villalba, M., et al., Palaeolithic diet decreases fasting plasma leptin concentrations more than a diabetes diet in patients with type 2 diabetes: a randomised cross-over trial. Cardiovasc Diabetol, 2016. 15: p. 80.

Talreja, D., et al., CRT-800.00 An Investigation of Plant-based, Mediterranean, Paleolithic, and Dash Diets. 2016. 9(4 Supplement): p. S61.

Whalen, K.A., et al., Paleolithic and Mediterranean Diet Pattern Scores Are Inversely Associated with Biomarkers of Inflammation and Oxidative Balance in Adults. J Nutr, 2016. 146(6): p. 1217-26.

2017

Afifi, L., et al., Dietary Behaviors in Psoriasis: Patient-Reported Outcomes from a U.S. National Survey. Dermatol Ther (Heidelb), 2017. 7(2): p. 227-242.

Anton, S.D., et al., Effects of Popular Diets without Specific Calorie Targets on Weight Loss Outcomes: Systematic Review of Findings from Clinical Trials. Nutrients, 2017. 9(8).

Blomquist, C., et al., Attenuated Low-Grade Inflammation Following Long-Term Dietary Intervention in Postmenopausal Women with Obesity. Obesity (Silver Spring), 2017. 25(5): p. 892-900.

Haskey, N. and D.L. Gibson, An Examination of Diet for the Maintenance of Remission in Inflammatory Bowel Disease. Nutrients, 2017. 9(3): p. 259.

Irish, A.K., et al., Randomized control trial evaluation of a modified Paleolithic dietary intervention in the treatment of relapsing-remitting multiple sclerosis: a pilot study. Degener Neurol Neuromuscul Dis, 2017. 7: p. 1-18.

Lee, J.E., et al., A Multimodal, Nonpharmacologic Intervention Improves Mood and Cognitive Function in People with Multiple Sclerosis. J Am Coll Nutr, 2017. 36(3): p. 150-168.

Obert, J., et al., Popular Weight Loss Strategies: a Review of Four Weight Loss Techniques. Curr Gastroenterol Rep, 2017. 19(12): p. 61.

Otten, J., et al., Benefits of a Paleolithic diet with and without supervised exercise on fat mass, insulin sensitivity, and glycemic control: a randomized controlled trial in individuals with type 2 diabetes. Diabetes Metab Res Rev, 2017. 33(1).

Stomby, A., et al., A Paleolithic Diet with and without Combined Aerobic and Resistance Exercise Increases Functional Brain Responses and Hippocampal Volume in Subjects with Type 2 Diabetes. Front Aging Neurosci, 2017. 9: p. 391.

2018

Blomquist, C., et al., Decreased lipogenesis-promoting factors in adipose tissue in postmenopausal women with overweight on a Paleolithic-type diet. Eur J Nutr, 2018. 57(8): p. 2877-2886.

Cheng, E., et al., Associations of evolutionary-concordance diet, Mediterranean diet and evolutionary-concordance lifestyle pattern scores with all-cause and cause-specific mortality. Br J Nutr, 2018: p. 1-10.

Genoni, A., et al., A Paleolithic diet lowers resistant starch intake but does not affect serum trimethylamine-N-oxide concentrations in healthy women. Br J Nutr, 2018: p. 1-14.

Haridass, V., et al., Diet Quality Scores Inversely Associated with Postmenopausal Breast Cancer Risk Are Not Associated with Premenopausal Breast Cancer Risk in the California Teachers Study. J Nutr, 2018. 148(11): p. 1830-1837.

Manousou, S., et al., A Paleolithic-type diet results in iodine deficiency: a 2-year randomized trial in postmenopausal obese women. Eur J Clin Nutr, 2018. 72(1): p. 124-129.

Otten, J., et al., A heterogeneous response of liver and skeletal muscle fat to the combination of a Paleolithic diet and exercise in obese individuals with type 2 diabetes: a randomised controlled trial. Diabetologia, 2018. 61(7): p. 1548-1559.

Popp, C.J., et al., The Effectiveness of MyPlate and Paleolithic-based Diet Recommendations, both with and without Exercise, on Aerobic Fitness, Muscular Strength and Anaerobic Power in Young Women: A Randomized Clinical Trial. Int J Exerc Sci, 2018. 11(2): p. 921-933.

van Niekerk, G., et al., Nutrient excess and autophagic deficiency: explaining metabolic diseases in obesity. Metabolism, 2018. 82: p. 14-21.

Wahls, T., et al., Dietary approaches to treat MS-related fatigue: comparing the modified Paleolithic (Wahls Elimination) and low saturated fat (Swank) diets on perceived fatigue in persons with relapsing-remitting multiple sclerosis: study protocol for a randomized controlled trial. Trials, 2018. 19(1): p. 309.

References

Anton, S.D., et al., Effects of Popular Diets without Specific Calorie Targets on Weight Loss Outcomes: Systematic Review of Findings from Clinical Trials. Nutrients, 2017. 9(8).

Cordain, L., The Paleo diet : lose weight and get healthy by eating the food you were designed to eat. 2002, New York: J. Wiley. ix, 257 p.

Cordain, L., et al., Origins and evolution of the Western diet: health implications for the 21st century. Am J Clin Nutr, 2005. 81(2): p. 341-54.

Cordain, L., et al., Plant-animal subsistence ratios and macronutrient energy estimations in worldwide hunter-gatherer diets. Am J Clin Nutr, 2000. 71(3): p. 682-92.

Cordain, L., et al., Macronutrient estimations in hunter-gatherer diets. Am J Clin Nutr, 2000. 72(6): p. 1589-92.

Eaton, S.B. and M. Konner, Paleolithic nutrition. A consideration of its nature and current implications. N Engl J Med, 1985. 312(5): p. 283-9.

Cordain, L., J. Miller, and N. Mann, Scant evidence of periodic starvation among hunter-gatherers. Diabetologia, 1999. 42(3): p. 383-4.

Cordain, L., The nutritional characteristics of a contemporary diet based upon Paleolithic food groups. Journal of the American Nutraceutical Association, 2002. 5(5): p. 15-24.

Cordain, L., The Paleo diet : lose weight and get healthy by eating the foods you were designed to eat. Rev. ed. 2011, Hoboken, N.J.: Wiley. xv, 266 p.

About Trevor Connor, M.S.

Trevor Connor was Dr. Loren Cordain’s last graduate student at Colorado State University. His research with Dr. Cordain focused on the effects of a Paleo style diet on autoimmune conditions. Their pilot study included close to 60 volunteers with diverse conditions ranging from Crohn’s Disease, to Multiple Sclerosis to Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis. The results were very promising, including all eight Crohn’s subjects going into remission on the Paleo Diet.

Trevor started working with Dr. Cordain in 2010, soon after retiring as a Professional Cyclist. At 38, he felt it was time to hang up the bike. Trevor had studied traditional sports nutrition for over a decade and was admittedly very reluctant to accept the Paleo Diet. But after experimenting with the diet himself, Trevor was able to return to the Pro Peloton at 40, getting Top Five’s in several races and establishing himself as the top ranked 40+ rider in the country for several years running.

Trevor now writes the Coaching Section of the international cycling magazine Velo, has his own coaching business, and recently managed the semi-Professional cycling team Team Rio Grande who’s alumni include Teejay Van Gaarderen, a top five finisher at the Tour de France and multiple national champions.

Trevor is currently working on publishing several studies and reviews on the effects of wheat on the digestive immune system. Recently, he moved back to Canada so his wife could pursue her dream of making the 2016 Olympics in pole vaulting (as a Paleo Dieter and ranked top 10 in the country in her mid-30’s.)

View all posts by Trevor Connor, M.S.

Source: https://thepaleodiet.com/another-january-another-paleo-bashing-session-or-was-it/

[atrocitycl]

G-Reyish - “Johnny Go Go” Review

(Music Video) / (Dance Practice)

G-Reyish – Johnny Go Go

Reviewed on August 17, 2017

And so, for where this review will be going, I hope to provide a more respectful and thoughtful argument as to why “Johnny Go Go” is a weaker song. After all, using the idea of “copying concepts” to claim that “Johnny Go Go” is a bad song would be akin to me arguing that my reviews are terrible because the blog is not aesthetically pleasing.

Personal Message: To the requester, I greatly apologize for the delays. Also, I did receive the follow-up message you sent and to that: thank you for the kind words and, there was no need to apologize for forgetting to leave a “thank you” with the initial request message. Nevertheless, I greatly admire how respectful and polite you are and although I did not quite directly reply to the follow-up message until now via this review, it was very heartwarming to read. Thank you being incredibly sweet.

Now regarding once again the reasons for such a delay, I have unfortunately fallen into one of the deepest holes known to humankind: dramas. Specifically, I have found myself hooked to a relatively new Korean drama and indeed, I plan to at least write a short bonus review on it. It is perhaps the best drama I have ever watched and is a rather versatile one in regards to both plot and theatre aspects. (To clarify, the latter, in my case, is referring to the acting and camerawork.) That said, there are still some significant flaws I have found to this drama, but I will hold off on revealing more—and even the drama’s title—as I hope the review will cover those points. (And yes: I did cry at a certain scene—but rather than the usual, emotional and saddening ones that oftentimes make me cry, I cried due to the scene being incredibly wholesome and endearing.)

On topic with this requested review, this song did prove to be one of the most challenging to review and that is not due to its composition per se; what made reviewing this song quite difficult is I had to decide between if certain aspects of the song were due to the production or the composition itself. In other words, based on the music video’s audio and other YouTube videos that claim to be the official audio, it should be noted that the instrumental to the sound is rather muffled. Now why this matters—and again to tie back into “production versus composition”—is that it would greatly affect the song’s ratings. If the lower quality, muffled instrumental is due to the production stage being faulty—the stage where the song is physically put together via recording takes and computer usage—then I will pardon the instrumental. After all, my reviews focus less on the physical production and more on the theoretical aspect—the composition itself. A song’s composition (to my understanding at least) is when we can focus on asking why; why does the song use a certain sound and pattern here? It is where we can speculate and discuss certain effects and strategies versus merely if the song’s physical quality is satisfying. A simple example of this situation is with Girls’ Generation’s Seohyun’s “Don’t Say No”: her music video’s audio had an instrumental that “sunk,” but in official audios, the instrumental was completely crisp and clean and thus, the latter would be the appropriate song to critique.

Relating this to G-Reyish’s situation, however, we come to an uncomfortable finding: supposed official audios still have the muddled instrumental. And so, I was put in a dilemma of deciding if the instrumental was indeed to be considered merely poorly produced or if this was its intended sound—and, if it was truly intentional, then how would such factor for the song. Readers might understandably be upset, but I will suspect that the instrumental is purposefully to sound as it is—and there are reasons for arguing why the composers would want the instrumental to sound muddled.

With those technical points clarified, let us focus on the review. Interestingly, a noticeable amount of listeners seem to dislike the song—and in fact, we can visually see this via YouTube dislikes on G-Reyish’s music video and live performances (if I recall correctly). What is troubling, however, is that many listeners being repelled are not drawn away due to the song itself: many merely dislike “Johnny Go Go” due to it being supposedly similar to T-ARA’s earlier, disco concepts. (For readers who are unfamiliar: T-ARA, now disbanded if correct, initially entered the K-Pop scene with disco-based pop songs such as with “Lovey-Dovey” and “Roly Poly.”) And so, for where this review will be going, I hope to provide a more respectful and thoughtful argument as to why “Johnny Go Go” is a weaker song. After all, using the idea of “copying concepts” to claim that “Johnny Go Go” is a bad song would be akin to me arguing that my reviews are terrible because the blog is not aesthetically pleasing. This is problematic because, as I hope this example demonstrates, the only proper way to claim my reviews are horrendous (which is not far from the truth) is if we actually critique the reviews themselves—the writing and analysis—rather than something that is completely. Therefore, I hope to do the same for “Johnny Go Go”: I will focus on and critique the song itself; the song’s disco genre and concept are completely irrelevant—barring perhaps situations where the concepts might explain certain decision making reflected in the song itself.

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Song Score: 3/10 (3.00/10 raw score) - “Below average”

- Vocals: 2/10

- Sections: 3/10 (3.17/10 raw score)

Introduction, Verse, Pre-Chorus, Chorus, Verse, Pre-Chorus, Chorus, Bridge, Chorus, Conclusion (Chorus)

1.     Introduction: 4/10

2.     Verse: 4/10

3.     Pre-Chorus: 4/10

4.     Chorus: 3/10

5.     Bridge: 2/10

6.     Conclusion (Chorus): 2/10

- Instrumental: 3/10

- Lyrics: 4/10

Woo woo woo woo (A-yo) (She's comin' at ya) (Introduce, G-Reyish) (Let's go)

I fell for you at first sight My cheeks turn red What do I do? The moment I saw you, my heart was electrified I do not know what to do

I'm afraid you'll run away I'm afraid you'll disappear You keep looking at me Oh my, I don't know what to do I keep liking you more I can only see your eyes Come play with me tonight

Hey mister Johnny Go, Johnny Go D-D-D-DJ go You'll start to like me, oh whoa Johnny Go, Johnny Go D-D-D-DJ go Oh I'm going to tell you Love for you Ba babababa, barababa baba Woo woo woo, woo Ba babababa, barababa baba Woo woo woo, woo

You shot me a look I'm shaking Why am I being like this? Whenever I look at you, my heart starts pounding I get so dizzy

I'm nervous that you'll come closer I turn red and breathless You keep looking my way Oh my, I don't know what to do I keep liking you more I can only see your eyes Come play with me tonight

Hey mister Johnny Go, Johnny Go D-D-D-DJ go You'll start to like me, oh whoa Johnny Go, Johnny Go D-D-D-DJ go Oh I'm going to tell you Love for you

(Make the volume louder, So I can move to the rhythm) (Turn the lights up) You ready? Get set, go

Hey mister Johnny Go, Johnny Go D-D-D-DJ go You'll start to like me, oh whoa Johnny Go, Johnny Go D-D-D-DJ go Oh I'm going to tell you Love for you

Johnny Go, Johnny Go D-D-D-DJ go (Now time's up G-Reyish) (One more time say: "G-Reyish") Johnny Go, Johnny Go D-D-D-DJ go Oh I'm going to tell you Love for you Ba babababa, barababa baba Woo woo woo, woo Ba babababa, barababa baba Woo woo woo, woo

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Analysis: Already, one troublesome aspect to the song is how generic and plain its sound is on all levels—both vocals and instrumental. Harshly stated, the vocals in the song focus less on tune appeal and seem to instead focus more towards being suitable to the song’s displayed concept—that of being cheery and cute. While understandably this occurs as superficial elements—the emotional and visual artistic appeal—are in fact key components in pop music, there is a point in which overly emphasizing those features could be at the expense of actual music appeal. Not surprisingly, that is exactly what occurs. In “Johnny Go Go,” the vocals are incredibly stagnant as a result: we hear exaggerated cheerful, higher pitched vocals without any change. For example, the vocals never extend to lower ranges or even change stylistically. The result is merely hearing the same vocal sounds and having to hear it in a chant-like manner as there are no moments where the singing includes beltings or is slowed or hastened. Certainly vocal variety in of itself is not essential—in fact, “variety” in a general sense in songs is never necessary per se—but indeed having variety drastically helps. There is only so much appeal that can be gleaned, after all, from hearing singing that flows and sounds the same from the very start and to the very end of the song.

As for the instrumental, the same can be said as it relies on usual, fast beats to create an upbeat style to the song. The main issue, however, is that the instrumental itself also fails to add variety—this we can hear from how, despite the song following the typical pop structure of going from verse to pre-chorus to chorus, the instrumental remains relatively similarly throughout. Furthermore, what also greatly hinders the song is when we consider how the instrumental is muddled and more specifically, how it fails to utilize its bass sounds. Now, as stated earlier, it can be understood on why this occurs—if, again, this muddled sound is indeed intentional and not due to production errors. Given how the vocals remain at a higher pitched and is following the same rhythm throughout and never significantly changing, having an instrumental that sounds muddled allows it to easily mesh with the singing. Should the instrumental have contained powerful bass sounds and beats instead of the current sound where those said aspects are kept down and limited, it would potentially create a sharp disparity between the instrumental and vocals. Indeed, while I argue the song is ultimately not aurally pleasing, I will still acknowledge and credit the composers for having the song be organized and easily connected—both in sections and with how the instrumental and vocal complement each other. Nevertheless, with an instrumental that lacks sharp, clear sounds and how the vocals are already uninteresting, this combination becomes far from admirable.

All in all, the disco-pop genre is one that can work. Although the following comparison might not help at all with the general public’s criticism towards “Johnny Go Go,” T-ARA’s disco-based songs, while I would hesitate to call them solid in any sense (now that I am more experienced with reviewing K-Pop songs), they do provide examples of aspects that can work. For example, in “Lovey-Dovey,” ignoring how the vocals would easily land a two as in this review, the song contains far more variety and more importantly, the song’s sections all held an important role. For “Johnny Go Go,” the song almost lacked a direction: the climactic points were minimal in contrast to other sections and the build-up was far too predictable and generic—to name a few examples. In “Lovey-Dovey,” each section provided the song a specific outcome and even within those sections, there were unique aspects included so as to prevent being another, typical pop song. For example, the choruses in T-ARA’s song might include the typical, filler “catchy” lines that are quickly sung, but it includes contrast from lines that are noticeable different and more strenuous. Ultimately, then, it meant that “Lovey-Dovey” ‘s choruses—even if not too impressive—were at least more than a simple, generic chorus that merely runs its course without introducing aspects that can be paid attention to. That said, “Lovey-Dovey” would also poorly hold up in a review but it does provide some insight on what would have benefitted the composers for “Johnny Go Go,” and of course I hope readers do not misunderstand this point and interpret it as justification to further bash G-Reyish on the basis of T-ARA’s music. A song “being better” is already a subjective claim but more importantly, setting up musical conflicts never benefits anyone whether it is fans, artists, composers, or producers.

G-Reyish’s “Johnny Go Go” might have disappointed me, but I do hope future composers (or future songs if the same composers are kept) continually improve. Likewise, I hope G-Reyish do manage to hold onto their disco-pop music genre if that is indeed what their group has as their stylistic preferences. What I personally would be interested in is if G-Reyish and their composers could perhaps one day release a song that is distinguishable as disco-pop but, if they could somehow do away with the vocals needing to be as rigid and plain as it is in “Johnny Go Go”—vocals that are excessively high pitched and lacking in variety. In other words, it would be very creative and most likely aurally pleasing if the ladies delivered more natural, flexible vocals all while still having the upbeat, electronic-based instrumental of disco-pop accompanying that said singing. (And of course, there are times for higher pitched, rigid singing—or if we have to use this term, that of “cutesy vocals.” TWICE’s “Knock Knock” is the best example of those types of vocals being functional and extremely effectively, though it should be noted that those “cutesy vocals” mostly work because of the contrast from more strenuous, tuneful vocal beltings.)

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To the requester, once again thank you for being incredibly patient and for everyone reading: recall that reviews are to begin discussions and are not to be used as forms of personally attacking artists and composers. For example, the composers of “Johnny Go Go” are not pathetic or stupid at all; in fact, the composers are indeed musical geniuses and hence why they are composers in the first place. They had a certain goal in mind when creating the song, but I personally just happen to disagree with their goal and have reasons for such—reasons that can be easily challenged and proven wrong. Likewise, G-Reyish should never be attacked for “copying T-ARA” as claiming such is rather pointless; after all, every K-Pop artist copies another due to the limits of “concepts.” And, more importantly, the ladies should not be personally attacked for their vocal abilities. Their singing in this song needs to be kept in that appropriate context; in this song, their vocal delivery happens to be poor but that does not mean their vocal skills are poor. Overall, I hope despite this review potentially being quite harsh, that it is used and interpreted in a constructive, mature and thoughtful manner. I encourage fans and readers to disagree or to agree; what matters is that listeners are critically engaging and are not merely disliking G-Reyish’s song due to its sheer concept.

With all those clarifications aside, thank you to everyone for reading or even skimming this review. I greatly appreciate it all. Regarding upcoming reviews, I have two bonus show reviews: one is a drama and another is about making a drama (Idol Drama Operation Team)—though with the latter, I will also review the respective drama that came out of it. Afterwards, we will resume with song reviews, many being catch-up from last month but also recent comebacks such as from GFriend and Girls’ Generation. Until then, “Come play with me tonight”—and by that I refer to reading my questionable, mediocre reviews at night—or at different times depending on readers’ preference. Perhaps I do need to figure out an actual closure rather than relying on quoting song lyrics and having them become taken out of context. Let us just awkwardly end here similarly to the many awkward, romantic moments in dramas.