#if you work in the industry i work. godspeed and fuck you

[vr2]

i think the dlc burned all over largely faceless obv pandering to me personally on the nose sexyman guy with the nice voice and unsettling religious overtones and years of unspeakable irreconcilable atrocities seeking a false redemption from a game that i have not ever played from a decade ago could fix me with oldman yaoi and the power of questionable and disturbing bodice shredder porn. i am listening to him read me the bible and i want to bite him like a dog with a tyre. sometimes thats all you need to not walk into traffic on the way to work :)

[sunderedstar]

good books of 2024

according to meeee.

there is no order here, at least one of these was published ages ago, I'm just working my way through my 2024 timeline, godspeed spiderman. 🫡

Metal from Heaven

surprise hit of 2024. top of the charts. stunning, spectacular. gorgeous. Metal from Heaven FUCKS. almost every single main character is an explicit spicy toxic hot mess of a lesbian committing literal highway/train robbery, the bad guy is literally named Industry, leading to such peak sentences as "I am going to kill Industry." the prose is synesthetic in a way that most writers cannot sustain for a full novel but which here culminates in a moment of pure blissful Neon Genesis Evangelion that I will not elaborate on due to spoilers. the author pulls out the FUNNIEST lines, and also the most abrupt and heartbreaking tragedies. we're not here to be subtle, we're here to put the pedal to the metal until the engine explodes. such a damning, whip smart condemnation of industry, capitalism, power. all in the form of Lesbians. also the phrase 'clown orgy' is mentioned. this shit is like gideon the ninth with CRUNCH. NSFW.

but don't take my word for it. take amal el-mohtar's.

Absolution

Absolution is a hard book. requires thought and rigor at all times to absorb what's going on - and also a reread of the entire trilogy beforehand, because there's time travel nuance involved, which makes it next to impossible to sum up the plot coherently on its own without spoiling things. jeff vandermeer described it partially as 'fuck that alligator from the movie' and - valid. the first 60% had me; the later section...swapped gears drastically, which meant it took a while to hit its stride (aka until it reached Area X again). in hindsight I was just not prepared for one of the POVs to be the Freudian, violently stoned, unreliable narrator love-child of Karkat and Dave Strider whose perception/conception of the heart of the Southern Reach is extremely phallic. and then suddenly cannibalism happens. I liked Annihilation and Acceptance better, but damn. it almost feels like this should be the set up to another trilogy. much 2 think about.

Yield Under Great Persuasion

I don't know why I didn't hear anything about this one before it came out! (instead, I only saw posts about rowland's other book released this year, running close to the wind - which sadly did not hit for me at all). Yield Under Great Persuasion is just ridiculous enough to be fantastic. stubborn little gremlin man, big mad about Pumpkingate years after the original inciting incident that set him at odds with his love interest, attempts to pack his little rucksack and run away from all his self-inflicted gay problems, fails, is forced to deal with said personal problems by direct goddess-intervention. you know it's gonna be good when the guys are hate-banging by page 2. a short, delightful mix of (extremely silly and low-stakes) enemies to lovers and hurt/comfort and working out your emotional and communication issues on page style comfort food. self-indulgent in a fanfic way that is rowland's trademark in a taste of gold and iron (which was also fantastic and probably deserves a reread now.) NSFW.

The Spellshop

between this and yield under great persuasion there's an odd cozy fantasy pairing here. a self-isolated shut-in spellbook librarian who lives for her work escapes the fall of her city and sets up shop back in her old hometown on a severely magic-deprived island. there's some internalized trauma being worked through, against a simply charming backdrop of community and solidarity and magic spells. really. I was. charmed. which is a rare reaction on my part.

The Hunter's Gonna Lay Low

the curveball of the list, The Hunter's Gonna Lay Low is a translated (gay) Korean web novel, and it's the perfect intersection of a decent translator meeting an author who knows what they're doing. notorious tumblr user @spockandawe has a write up of the plot and its major themes here, but in essence it hooked me with its hunter/super-hero meets Pacific Rim setting, its themes of gifted kid burnout and unacknowledged trauma with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and the fact that the author clearly plotted out all of this in advance, with minor details from the opening chapter being extremely plot relevant a hundred chapters later. also, the characters are FUN! the relationship compels me. clownery abounds in all the best ways, while the world-ending stakes are also scarily sky high. its translation is currently incomplete as far as I'm aware, which is literally this story's only downside right now, since you can read it online for free - but so much of the main story is up and translated already that it's hard to imagine how much higher the stakes can go, and I'm dying to know if these two make it through and get the happy ending they deserve. a delicious repast.

Apostles of Mercy

I'm gonna rant here. this is the story of a series that got the redemption arc it deserved.

if you don't know, axiom's end is lindsay ellis's blatant Bayverse Transformers female lead alternate history fic. period. she has openly admitted this. you can easily and clearly pick out the Optimus/Megatron/Starscream expies. and that first book was GOOD. it understood the assignment. loved it.

then...truth of the divine happened. book two of the series. was frankly. god awful. it was like twilight's new moon, where the main character's depression saturates and therefore stagnates the entire narrative, in this case to its detriment. it dragged. the entire appeal of first book of the series is the bond between the main character and her new definitely-not-a-Transformer life partner, and book two managed to both sideline that - the entire point!!! the main thing you're reading it for! the alien time! - and introduce the most skeevy and (for me) unpleasant to read human hetero romance of all time. it was so unpleasant I actually forgot how bad it was.

somehow. somehow. palpatine returned. after I spent three years mourning what could have been. book three saved it. Apostles of Mercy addresses the whole damn skeevy toxic mess that was book two and refocuses on what matters - the alien love interest and a LESBIAN love interest. yes. it's true. once again the sapphics won. we now have a book where the main character is reliving lesbian sex memories as an alien-robot-insect-definitely-not-a-Transformer mindmelds with her so I mean. good job team? her love interest also acquires an alien life partner of her own to expand this into potential alien foursome range? the assignment is once again UNDERSTOOD. in terms of the action scenes, to quote myself while reading it, "I can't believe I'm saying this but you needed to channel far more Bayverse" [for book 2], and doing so for book 3 has produced a work of art. I would say skip book 2 entirely and thank me later, but experiencing how bad the series got at its darkest point is part of what made book 3 such an exhilarating high in comparison. possibly that was the goal all along, impossible to appreciate until now. I just need lindsay ellis to get the contract to write the currently-in-publication-limbo books 4 and 5. because the series deserves it. it only just got good again! NSFWish because I can't remember currently how explicit they got all these months later, forgive me.

The Deep Sky

yume kitasei is new to me, but this book hit some interesting notes as a sci fi debut. it too is about gifted kid burnout and imposter syndrome, funnily enough, in a thoughtful take on the standard sci fi concept of 'a bunch of rigorously trained young adults are sent out into deep space as an ark to save a dying humanity' that actually does discuss how fucked up that is as a concept, both for the kids as they grow up under enormous pressure to win a spot on the mission and for all those people being left behind, in what might just end up being an overhyped waste of resources, since civilization sure is still kicking when they leave. the summary on the book is somewhat misleading - asuka, the main character, doesn't fall under suspicion until wayyyy late in the book, and spends the majority of it in a pseudo-detective role that is absolutely sanctioned by those in charge. she's not 'an immediate suspect' like the book blurb insists. go figure. it didn't knock me out of the park like most of the books above, but it was an engaging little read.

The Bees

a weird one from 2014, picked up on a whim - it's literally about bees! fictionalized bees! with personalities and priesthoods and caste politics and everything! I cried about it to be honest. very plotty, somehow all of it neatly taking place within the Lifecycle of A Bee™️, which takes some real craftsmanship to pull off and make compelling as a narrative. since I'm an unrepentant Raksura fan, I was like 'wow...how Raksura coded...' knowing full well that Raksura are dragon bee people, not the other way around. also the Raksura could never be as toxic (complimentary) as these bees are. 😂 it's just good literature your honor.

honorable mentions:

Heavenly Tyrant

has not come out yet. but let's be real. it's on the list in anticipation. it's what she deserves.

The City in Glass

I love nghi vo's work, have read and adored all of the singing hills cycle novellas. it took a month for my library hold on this book to be available. and then I promptly got distracted by metal from heaven and the hunter's gonna lay low 😂 I will read it!!! the first eight pages were good! vitrine's voice is very good! I've just had a very busy end of the year interrupting my everything. (update: I read two more pages and it immediately and promptly popped off. whoops. guess I'm reading that next. whenever I have free time again...)

[laiosynth]

gonna get opinionated for like 2 seconds here and it will likely never happen again but i just saw someone comment on a post about state drinks (in which a majority of them, comically, are milk)

this comment went something along the lines of "there's a program in schools where they bring a cow in and milk it and feed the kids all sorts of milk propaganda (weird)"

and first of all. the concept of an agricultural education program widespread or even effective enough to actually make any difference in the dairy industry, or any other for that matter, is actually laughable.

second:

what the everloving FUCK is milk propaganda

like genuinely what the fuck are you talking about. are you talking about actual dairy products? like milk and cheese and yogurt and butter?

or are you talking about, god forbid, children actually learning about the dairy industry and where their food comes from?

the dairy industry is not some evil machine, i promise you. if it were, you wouldn't have any fucking dairy to begin with. they're not trying to cover up some evil crimes they're committing by teaching the children how dairy farms and dairy processing work.

like. what do you mean milk propaganda. what

not tagging this cuz if it needs to get somewhere it will. godspeed

[formulatrash]

The real experience of breaking into motorsport is eating ice cream for dinner while crying over your laptop because you're doing your daily 3.5 hours of overtime so haven't had time to grocery shop or cook anything decent in a week hoping it'll get you a better job.

And honestly on the one hand I wish I would've listened to your warnings on the other I feel closer than ever to an actual fun job so just to your followers who are on the same path: really question whether this is what you want and if you're already in it, cheers and godspeed to you.

Also fingers crossed for you with the Andretti job, Hazel! You deserve it 🍀

oh, I don't think I'll get that Andretti job. I fit all the descriptions easily but I've probably been a bit too senior and they also likely want someone currently working as a video producer. that's how things are sometimes. I'm probably getting a little bit old to be considered for much now.

idk if I've ever necessarily tried to give out warnings, so much as like, realistic advice. so much is like "follow your dreams and you'll find your path" and it's like yeah and a bunch of people will exploit you and you might have a bad time so let's try to look at this as an industry not a wish fulfilment lottery.

I sort of hope the main thing I've tried to emphasise is you need to know what you want for yourself - even if that changes - so that you go into anything with that in mind. it's too easy to get wrapped up in people pleasing and then find you've left yourself with nothing because your own passion and enthusiasm got canalised into someone else's development.

but yes, it does reward. the hours are... very bad. the loneliness of the hours is sometimes the hardest. the money? she's also bad. and sometimes the fun jobs are bad and the bad jobs are fun. but then we all do it for a reason, innit, which is that against all logic we fucking love it.

it was strange to be back in a paddock, back interrogating JEV while he was being needlessly combative and then weirdly affectionate all at the same time. back to something I know I'm really good at, when I'm nervous I'm going to be very bad at being bar staff at Wetherspoons but you do what you do to pay rent innit.

but yeah; I hope the main thing is to be realistic. these are jobs not dreams, in the end, innit.

[antrunner]

RE: your tags about body type variation in comics:

100%, a lot of comic artists know how to draw mmmmaybe 4 body types and about 5 faces and anything outside that becomes borderline or actual caricature. Most can't even draw kids that look like kids, and drawing children comes up A LOT so that particular oversight doesn't even make sense.

A lot of the reason for it comes down to muscle memory and expedience--you draw faster if you're drawing the same thing you've drawn several thousand times before. (Personally? I try to make sure my characters all have unique faces at a minimum.) That's one of the reasons I was like 'godDAMNIT, GODSPEED!' when he killed off the other speedsters/made them not feel safe to have powers. We had a pretty diverse range of ages and body types going with the Central City Speed Crew there, and I was low key hoping we'd see them show up more.

YEAH EXACTLY! Which, all of that second paragraph leads me into an even bigger issue in comics that i've noticed: quantity over quality. It feels like with a lot of newer ones (rebirth ones......) a lot of things have been disregarded in favor of just. producing things. and it sucks because we lose a lot of good stuff like diversity, personality, pre-set character growth. on top of all of this i feel like it's... alarming. that most of the fat characters we see are villains. not heroes. but from what we DO see from heroes, their body types are quickly retconned to fit in with the norm of skinny muscled people.

two examples of this that really pisses me off is ted kord: who became just another skinny muscle guy (he should be CHUBBY IMO) and kyle rayner. at the start of his run kyle had a sort of soft body with a rounder face. of course he wasnt always drawn like this, but looking at him in rebirth its like looking at a completely different person altogether. (this is also why i personally hate the omega men comics too. that is NOT kyle.)

Here's him in GL: 3D (1998) and Ion: Guardian of the Universe (2006).

He has rounder features. Muscled but not INSANELY so. He has a soft body type and... while not FAT. I think its important to recognize changes like this. He's actually seen a lot in early comics trying to work out with people like Donna or the titans and genuinely struggling to keep up because he isn't in shape. which MAKES SENSE FOR HIM!!!!!!!

SERIOUSLY WHO IS THIS LOL. (dont come at me with "hes AGED" i do NOT care... theres a way to age up characters while still keeping their body types and features the same. come on his eyes are BROWN. not terrifying blue.)

im going a bit off topic here. but i agree that it can also be seen with speedsters. they should, at the very least, be lean rather than heavily muscled. too often people hear "superhero" and assume massive, defined muscles like wwe wrestlers. no...... no. i think that heroes' bodies should be reflective of their lifestyles and powers. speedsters run. lanterns fly. superman is naturally large and should look like an ACTUAL body builder. wonder woman should be huge and muscled too rather than rib-less and thin.

there just needs to be more fat heroes. im not a skinny person, and actually lean more towards the fat side of the bmi scale (which isnt real btw. its bullshit lies used to fuel the diet industry and the public school system xoxo) but i hate this weird idea in comics that every hero is SKINNY. because more often than not... origin stories are like "this is just some random dude who got powers". that shouldnt mean he was already fit as fuck with an 8 pack and shoulders the size of manhattan...

i think its a conversation that isnt had enough is all. and im happy to talk about this more. as someone who struggles with weight issues and always have, it's harmful to a lot of people to see this sort of thing go unnoticed. and i hope with the semi-recent surge of diversity recognition we can also get some recognition for different body types :)

[femaleboysblog]

fuck it. 3,6,11,23,24,32, and 69 godspeed soldier

03: Do you regret anything?

I honestly have been regretting so much lately lol, not treating my ex better (even if she didn't do it back tbh), drinking too much on that one weekend alone with that one guy. not going out the house for almost six months. always holding myself back scared of being the "weird" kid. sighs.

06: How do you want to die?

lee's ending from the movie bones and all (trigger warning)

11: Do you like someone?

right now I have celebrity crushes and online crushes(?) but no, I'm not even talking to anyone like that right now lol I had two talking stages over the last month and they both managed to scare the shit out of me in like. a span of a week. (cis men, am I rightttt)

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

ok. so. I have a septum piercing, had to get it pierced twice cause the first girl who did it was high on weed. I have a lip piercing on the left side. uhhh, two earrings? piercings? on both ears, but I still have them stretched a bit so I use dangly plugs (or whatever you call them on english). I've also had an eyebrow piercing and an industrial piercing twice. I've pierced myself a side nose piercing but I couldn't get the jewelry in so I kinda gave up for now. that's a lot

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

art, only. even though I started studying english by myself at nine years old watching skins uk and doctor who, I still sucked at the class and hated doing the lessons. the other ones I was so bad the teachers were the ones bullying me so I would skip class and smoke lmao. but yeah, art! drawing, painting, writing was where I got the biggest compliments ever including in senior year when I modeled an outfit made by recycled trash in a group project (work it bitch)

32: What is your favourite color?

I like black, pink, yellow, orange and maybe red? and like. water green and lilac.

69: Do you believe in soulmates?

that's where I feel like a vulcan instead of human lolololololol, I think it's illogical to think there's someone out there, that, for some odd reason, is a match for me (or vice-versa), that maybe they're waiting for me or something like that. I think most people have different levels of compatibility between them and it all depends on how you go through your differences and misunderstandings. however, as a spock kinnie, my human side does wish there is something illogical and silly like fate somewhere. out there. that maybe I will find someone who will understand my weirdness like I understand theirs. the troy to my abed.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 22

Hannibal and y/n arrive at Camp Big Brother and receive an unusual greeting.

@dovahdokren @deadman-inc-bikeshop @lov3vivian @wisesandwichshark @scpdragon

Trigger warnings: guns, threats of violence, cult stuff, brief mention of North Korea 

The car ride up to the mountain introduced you to a new feeling. You thought it similar to that of prisoners on their way to be executed. The comfortable numbness of accepting your rapidly-approaching demise. 

The road only brought you so far. It turned into a dirt path, which then turned into just the imprint of tire tracks. Your car wasn’t equipped for mountainous terrain, so you had to get out and walk. You weren’t ill-prepared for a hike; you made a point to change clothes before leaving the house, and your work shoes were worn-in enough to withstand a trek through the forest. You only feared losing one of your gloves.

It was Hannibal you were worried about. You’d never seen him in anything but a full three-piece suit and today was no exception. He’d taken off his jacket and vest, but having to hike in suit pants and dress shoes was far from ideal. 

You were in the middle of a game of ‘how many 12 gauge bullets can I fit on my person’ when you heard the rumbling of an ATV coming down the track. You loaded a shell into the gun and watched it turn the corner and stop in front of you. Hannibal stood behind you, looking dignified as ever. 

The driver dismounted the vehicle and took off their helmet. The woman beneath the helmet looked like she’d either lived a hard 20 years or an easy 50 years. You didn’t pay much attention to her face. She looked nourished and had a head full of hair, so she wasn’t one of Chase’s slaves. 

“Are you ‘prefect’?” You asked, squinting at her from behind the gun. “Or ‘Aunt Lydia’?” 

“You must be [F/N] [L/N].” The woman said. “Vanguard sent me to pick you up, but didn’t say anything about a guest.” 

“What’s to stop me from blasting your head off, taking that ATV and going up there myself?” You spat. 

The woman disregarded your question. She pulled a walkie-talkie from her belt and clicked it on. “Vanguard, [L/N] is here and she brought a friend.” 

The device crackled, then Chase spoke. “Is it a cop?” 

The woman scanned Hannibal up and down. “No.” 

“Let her off with a warning, then.” Chase instructed. “She knew the rules.” 

“You heard the man.” She pulled a pistol from her holster and pointed it at Hannibal with full intentions to shoot him dead. He put his hands behind his head, but didn’t seem at all fazed. 

You aimed the gun at the woman’s head. “I don’t think you want to do that.” 

“Don’t waste your ammo, love.” Hannibal said to you. “She’s obviously bluffing.” 

“You want to find out?” She pulled the hammer back. 

“Hannibal, she’s not bluffing!” Your voice started to shake. 

“Yes she is, darling.” He insisted. “Nobody would be stupid enough to fire off a shot this close to an active naval base.” 

She lowered her pistol. “What are you talking about, there’s no military base up here.” 

“Of course there is.” He refuted. “Camp David is within a few miles of here.”

For a moment, she looked genuinely fearful. You thought you saw her cult mask begin to slip as she remembered that there was a world outside of the one Chase cultivated. 

“Oh.” Hannibal feigned surprise. “That is, unless, Chase Mulvaney didn’t tell you.” 

The woman narrowed her eyes. “I’m his right-hand woman, he tells me everything.” 

Hannibal clicked his tongue. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but it seems he sees you as just as disposable as Catherine Miller. He sent you down here to kill anyone [F/N] brought along with her, catching the attention of the military personnel on base and ultimately throwing you under the bus.” 

“He wouldn’t.” She snapped. “Chase loves me like a sister.”

“I’ll bet that’s what he tells the other girls.” You commented. 

Judging by the look on her face, you were right. And you struck a nerve. 

“But, if you are so inclined to do Chase’s dirty work for him,” Hannibal said, loosening his collar. “At least try not to get blood on my suit pants.” 

She held the gun out for a few moments, then dropped it. “He would want to kill you himself.”

“That’s more like it.” You said, mounting the vehicle with your gun slung over your back. 

“Vanguard doesn’t mind two armed strangers on his property?” Hannibal asked, having to yell over the revving of the engine. 

The woman scoffed. “It doesn’t make any difference. Bullets don’t work on Vanguard.” 

You furrowed your brow. “What?” 

“Vanguard is blessed with the armor of Christ.” She said, with 100% conviction. There wasn’t a trace of irony or sarcasm in her voice. “No bullets can pierce his earthly flesh.” 

“Do you actually believe what you’re saying, or is this all some kind of fucked-up extended metaphor?” You asked. 

“Vanguard proved it in chapel.” She insisted. “He fired a gun at his chest and it didn’t puncture him! The bullet just crumpled against his chest.”

“Wow.” You said, flatly. This person’s rationality was so scrubbed away, she could be fooled by even the lamest of magic tricks. 

“The people of North Korea believe that Kim-Jong Il is responsible for inventing the hamburger.” Hannibal whispered to you. “Because they don’t have access to any information that proves otherwise.” 

“Yeah, we’re about to ‘prove otherwise’ alright.” You muttered back with a smile. 

After a few minutes, the outline of a building appeared. As you grew closer, you saw a cheaply-constructed cabin made for quantity, not quality. Next to it was a chapel, but it was only identifiable as such because of the massive cross. With industrial metal siding and no visible windows, it resembled a bomb shelter. 

The woman unceremoniously dumped you both off the ATV at an opening in the razor wire fence.

"Morning devotional is at eight." She explained. "You'll hear the bell ring. You'll be expected to attend, of course."

"I don't give a shit what you expect." You shook your head. "I don't owe you fucks anything."

"But you owe Jesus everything." She said, matter-of-factually.

“What in the Midsommar fuck is this?” You said, squinting in the early daylight. 

“Come on.” Hannibal took your gloved hand in his. “Let’s find our Will.” 

The sun was just beginning to rise over the mountains off in the distance, coloring the sky as red as the blood on Chase's hands.

"It's going to be light soon." Hannibal whispered. "We only have so long before people start to wake up."

"So where do we check first?" You asked.

"At eight, the chapel will be full and the cabin will be empty." Hannibal pointed out. "That gives us fifteen minutes to search the chapel until people start filing in."

You nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

You snuck towards the entrance to the chapel and crept inside without a sound. One look and you knew you had a lot of ground to cover in only fifteen minutes.

The chapel looked like the inside of a shipping container. You knew that growing up Catholic gave you a certain image of how church should look, but this was hardly a structure, let alone a place of worship. Much like the outside, the only feature that identified this building as a church was the massive cross, which was not even mounted on the wall or suspended from the ceiling. It just laid lazily against the back wall. A couple of folding tables with some linens draped over them made up a bare-bones altar, decorated with nothing but a couple of candles. The high windows gave the chilling feeling that the room was underground.

"You'd think with ninety million dollars, they could afford some real chairs." You commented, looking disgustedly at the rows of folding chairs.

"This isn't a summer camp." Hannibal observed. "This is a military base."

Your foot hit a loose tile on the ground. You took a knee and grabbed it. A whole patch of tiles lifted with it, revealing a small secret door. 

“I think you might be on to something.” You said, looking up at Hannibal. 

You slung your gun over your back and carefully descended the ladder while Hannibal kept watch. 

“It’s dark down here.” You called up. You heard the striking of a match and Hannibal handed you a lit candle. You were about to thank him when the sharp tones of a bell cut through the silence. 

“Shit.” You cursed. “Hannibal, close the hatch.” 

“I’m not going to leave you.” Hannibal’s voice hardened. 

“This bunker is narrow as Christ’s asshole.” You said. “I can handle it. You need to investigate the cabin.” 

“Darling-” 

“Go to the cabin. Now.” You demanded. “I’m not asking.” 

Hannibal smiled down at you, feeling a sense of pride. He knelt down beside the trap door, and reached for your hand. He removed your glove and pressed his lips against your skin. “Godspeed, my indulgence.” 

You saluted. “And also with you.” 

[themusicview]

We woke up one morning and fell a little further down - a Godspeed You! Black Emperor retrospective - Pt. 7: Luciferian Towers

Here’s the thing about this moment in Godspeed’s history. By this point the fanbase was comfortable with, maybe even expecting, the band’s opaqueness. They said little to the press, and what they did mention was cryptic, there was no website you could visit, no pre-announcement of their new works.

So when Godspeed released a full manifesto with their next album, you could say we were taken by surprise.

As such, the primary emotion of this LP is anger: white hot, blistering, sharp anger. It is Godspeed saying, “We can no longer afford to be cryptic, so let us be blunt.” I can think of no more blunt a statement than the bullet pointed conclusion of their manifesto.

the “luciferian towers” L.P. was informed by the following grand demands:

+ an end to foreign invasions

+ an end to borders

+ the total dismantling of the prison-industrial complex

+ healthcare, housing, food and water acknowledged as an inalienable human right

+ the expert fuckers who broke this world never get to speak again

This being said, let’s dissect their musical manifesto and see what exactly this album is like. The band’s own descriptions will be followed by my own.

UNDOING A LUCIFERIAN TOWERS – look at that fucking skyline! big lazy money writ in dull marble obelisks! imagine all those buildings much later on, hollowed out and stripped bare of wires and glass, listen- the wind is whistling through all 3,000 of its burning window-holes!

Borrowing from the tradition of Yanqui UXO, the album begins with a drone. It’s a lighter drone than the black darkness of their earlier efforts, but it is a drone none the less. If anything, this track feels like an overture, the rising curtain to a grand spectacle show. Militaristic drums and violin hymnal melodies explode at the end. All in all, it begins the album well enough.

BOSSES HANG – labor, alienated from the wealth it creates, so that holy cow, most of us live precariously! kicking at it, but barely hanging on! also – the proud illuminations of our shortened lives! also – more of us than them! also – what we need now is shovels, wells, and barricades!

This is part one of the thesis statement for the album. It is a cinematic track, but one that feels more like a short film compared to LYSF’s feature length picture. In it, well, the worker becomes tired, and rises up against his master. It is a revolution of feeling and crescendos. This is the most soundtrack like Godspeed have gotten so far. The track is less coherent and build like than anything else in their discography, but still communicates their intended message well enough.

FAM / FAMINE – how they kill us = absentee landlord, burning high-rise. the loud panics of child-policemen and their exploding trigger-hands. with the dull edge of an arbitrary meritocracy. neglect, cancer maps, drone strike, famine. the forest is burning and soon they’ll hunt us like wolves.

In revolution, especially revolution lead by the left, power rarely is taken all at once or with any degree of long term stability during the revolution. Often, the result of revolt, especially in the short term, is chaos for all involved. This chaos is reflected in this track. It’s easy to see that this track is disorganized and a little bit disjointed. However, given the images that accompany this track, the immediate counter attack from the government that we are attempting to overthrow, it is a fitting one. We are dodging the bullets, retaliating where we can, eking out an existence in the rubble and the burning wreckage of the new order, attempting to find safety in the rubble and the wreckage. And yet, there is hope, the hymnal melody from the Undoing a Luciferian Towers is present here, under all the chaos. This is difficult, but it will not be the grave for the revolution.

ANTHEM FOR NO STATE – kanada, emptied of its minerals and dirty oil. emptied of its trees and water. a crippled thing, drowning in a puddle, covered in ants. the ocean doesn’t give a shit because it knows it’s dying too.

True peace at last, but at what cost. Here, we mourn the passing of our comfortable lives, but at the same time, we look for the world to come. However long it lasts. The effects of capitalism will linger on for a long time, perhaps for the rest of our species’ allotted time on this planet, but it’s OK. We are finally beginning to pay back the debt that has been accrued. There is love at last, there is peace at last, now that the world is out of the hands of the people who broke it. The people come out of their homes, and work to create the new world. The music builds to a thunderous crescendo. It’s hard work, but it is glorious. Finally, we are free to make a decent world.

Godspeed have always been cinematic as a band, but on this album, that cinema feels tightly controlled and intentional in a way that was not present on earlier releases. This is Godspeed with purpose. Their moment has arrived. This is them rebelling against a system that is broken and terrible, and, at long last, giving us a blueprint to a better tomorrow. On their next album, they would give us a bit of comfort to get us through the long fight.

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 55 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Thanksgiving went on for 17 million years. (AKA 5 Chapters) We laughed, we cried (did we cry? I don’t think we cried – except for Adore maybe), we fucked on some stairs until our knees gave out...

This Chapter: Pearl makes a getaway, Raven carbs up, and Violet returns to work with help from a very special assistant.

***

“Pearl! Pearl, wake up!”

Pearl stirred, a hand shaking her, and opened her eyes. Fame was leaning over her, a sleep mask pushed up on her forehead, a frantic expression in her eyes.

It had been a long night. When Pearl arrived at the townhouse, they’d at down and had a long heart to heart, Pearl tearfully confessing the whole sordid tale of her and Adore over tea and leftover cranberry apple crisp, Fame even going the extra mile and topping it with an uncharacteristic scoop of ice cream--she must really have seemed pathetic. Pearl told her everything, and while Fame was understanding, she didn’t hold back or let her off the hook either, pointing out where she thought she’d fucked up, how she could have done better, and why Adore was justified in her hurt and anger. It was difficult to hear at times, but Pearl appreciated her honesty. Most of all, she appreciated that Fame stayed to listen, giving her the space to talk it out, sometimes resting a hand on her thigh just to let her know that she was still there.

After that, cried out and emotionally exhausted, they’d climbed into Fame’s bed to snuggle and watch TV, Pearl’s eyelids soon drooping heavily. When Patrick got home, Pearl had offered to leave, of course, but he saw how tired she was and insisted she stay, Fame sleeping in the middle of the bed.

Now, it was morning and Fame was apparently in a tizzy over something. Pearl rubbed her eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“The chef’s idiot assistant let in my in-laws without asking. I have no idea why they’re here so early, we clearly said brunch was at noon!” Fame fretted, Patrick buttoning his shirt in the background.

Pearl tried to catch up. “The chef?”

“Oh my god, what are we going to do?!” Fame explained, hands pressed to her cheeks.

“She could go out the window…” Patrick joked.

“Yes!” Fame turned back to Pearl. “Get dressed, you’re going out the window.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Pearl asked. “That’s dangerous!”

“Use the trellis!”

“Darling, I was kidding,” Patrick said gently.

“Well, I’m not!” Fame snapped her fingers. “Where are her pants?”

Patrick handed over Pearl’s skinny jeans, shaking his head. “Can’t we just say that one of your employees came for an early meeting?”

“Oh yeah Patrick, an early meeting on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Here in our bedroom. Sounds totally respectable. I can’t believe this, we’re never using chef John again! Pearl, hurry up.” She got up and walked to the window that overlooked the backyard, unlocking it and opening it wide.

“Was he supposed to let them just wait on the front stoop?”

“Patrick,” Fame said sternly, in that tone that told them both that she was not fucking around. “If you’re not going to offer any other solutions, you can just go downstairs and entertain your stupid family.”

“I’m gonna let that one slide,” Patrick said as he walked to the door. “And Pearl, godspeed. Try to avoid the rose bushes if you fall.”

“So, is this your way of telling me that I’m not staying for brunch with the fam?” Pearl asked, putting on her jacket and slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder.

“Pearl.” That same tone again, entirely unamused.

Pearl stepped up to her at the window, looking out. The good news was, there was a high cement wall that would likely break her fall before the ground. Worst case scenario, she’d break a bone...or two.

“This is the first time I’ve done anything like this since high school,” she giggled, then reached out and touched Fame’s hand. “Thanks for last night.”

“Of course,” Fame replied, softening for a moment, leaning in to give her a gentle kiss on the mouth. “Anytime.”

“Anytime except right now, you mean?”

“Exactly,” Fame said, helping her climb onto the window ledge and over to the trellis. “Once you get down to the garden, make sure to go around that way,” she pointed, “And duck when you pass the windows.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

***

“Now,” Juju took the dinosaur tray from the counter, handing it to her son, his pancakes carefully cut up, “take it slow when-” Juju was cut off as Owen grabbed the tray, practically spinning around in his haste to make it back to the family room. “Hey! I said take it slow young man!”

It was a Sanderson family tradition to spend the Saturday after Thanksgiving with pajamas, pancakes and TV, and even though Kelly had gotten too old to join, their teenager leaving the house almost as soon as they had made it back from Boston, Juju knew with absolute certainty that she’d find a toddler under each of her husband's arms, time with dad something the twins valued above anything else.

“They grow up so fast.” Raven smiled, her best friend sitting at the kitchen counter in a set of soft pink silk pajamas, twirling a bit of hair around her finger.

“Don’t even say it,” Juju sighed, cutting up the last of the fruit so she could make Raven a plate too. “It feels like we just left the hospital.”

“You’ll have another little one soon.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Juju smirked, and Raven laughed, taking the offered assortment of fruit that Juju handed her, but then, something crazy happened. Raven grabbed two pancakes too, putting them on her plate.

“Hey girly, what’re you doing?” Juju didn’t normally care about Raven’s diets--actually, she tried not to be involved in them at all whenever she could, but she had already spotted her best friend putting creamer in her coffee. Juju worked in fashion as well, several houses and magazines using her on shoots, but she didn’t think she’d ever really understand the sacrifices models went through. Sure, it was part of their job to go to the gym, but she didn’t think she’d ever be able to do it, even though Raja had made it seem effortlessly easy when she had been in her prime. “I know Sutan isn’t here, but I don’t believe the warden has relaxed the rules that much.”

“Well.” Raven looked uncharacteristically insecure for a moment, crossing her arms. “I’ve decided I’m done doing swimwear.”

“Oh?” Juju knew Raven had campaigns coming up in December, her friend complaining about it the last time they saw each other.

“Yes.” Raven nodded. “I’m done. It’s not worth the money, when it’s killing me to stay in runway shape year round.”

“Okay.” Juju nodded, sort of understanding where Raven was coming from. When she wasn’t walking fashion weeks where everyone had to fit sample sizes, the industry loved her curves, Raven smoking hot when she allowed herself to get to a size 4 or even a 6, which was a much more accurate representation of what her body actually looked like. “And Tan is cool with it?”

Somehow, it worked for Raven to have her fiancée’s brother as a manager, but Juju knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would have killed Detox if he ever tried to make decisions on her career, even the idea of Raja, Fame, heck, even Bianca moving in on her turf making her genuinely uncomfortable.

“I…” Raven clicked her tongue. “Might not have told him yet.”

***

“Urgh,” Sutan groaned as he flopped on the couch, face first, a white t-shirt clinging to his chest. “Fuck.”

“Hello,” Violet was biting her lip in an effort not to smile, her boyfriend absolutely exhausted, his duffle bag thrown somewhere on the floor. “Did you have a nice time at the gym?”

They had been in the middle of breakfast, Violet making her way through a coconut yogurt when Sutan had gotten a call, his eyes widening to an almost comical size when he recognized the number, the horror on his face telling the clear story of how he had completely forgotten.

“My trainer is an absolute sadist.”

“Mmh?” Violet had never seen him move so fast, Sutan drowning his coffee in one big gulp, barely pressing a kiss against her temple before he had rushed out the door, grabbing what was apparently an emergency gym bag from the hallway closet.

“He made me do 25 extra sets of everything for being late. Can you believe I’m paying someone to torture me?” Sutan toed his shoes off, winching at the movement as he got on his back, putting his head on her thigh, his hair still slightly damp. “I thought I was going to die.”

Violet had wondered why Sutan had never let her be around when he went to the gym, the man only going on nights or mornings when they weren’t spending time together.

Now, it seemed like she had her answer.

“Poor you.” Violet smiled, running her fingers over his forehead, the TV playing quietly in the background.

“I know you don’t mean that,” Sutan looked up at her, “but I’ll take it.”

“You know,” Violet bit her lip not to yawn, the smallest of efforts almost taking her out, putting their breakfast away and getting to the couch feeling like enormous tasks. “I’m going to be so jealous once I’m off my pain killers.”

Violet tried not to think too hard about what a broken bone actually meant, not being able to run or even do yoga to manage her emotions a complete nightmare.

“Seriously?” Sutan lifted an eyebrow, and Violet ran a finger over it. “When I was 23, you couldn’t force me to go to the gym.” Sutan smiled. “Not that Raja’s model diet made it necessary.”

“You were on a model diet?”

“Beat having to cook for myself.” Sutan grinned, and Violet could totally imagine it, the Amrull twins chugging their way through green smoothies side by side.

“How long did you actually live with Raja?”

“Literal decades,” Sutan snorted. “God I’m ancient.”

“I like to think of you as finely aged wine.”

“HA!” Sutan laughed, and Violet couldn’t help but smile. She loved watching him laugh, loved seeing his face scrunch up with happiness. “For that lovely eyes,” Sutan pointed up at her. “You get to stay another week.”

“Oh…” Violet paused, “I, umh, I didn’t…” She had felt so happy just moments before, but now, she could feel the uncertainty crawl up her spine. “We never actually talked about… You don’t have to do-”

It wasn’t like her at all, but Violet had simply not considered the week to come, hadn’t even thought about where she would be staying, what she would be wearing, what she’d be doing with herself beyond believing Sutan when he said he’d get her to work Monday.

“Violet.” Sutan reached up, grabbing her neck, his fingers easily holding her. “You live on the 5th floor with no elevator.”

“And I appreciate your help, but I’d never want to-”

“You’re staying here. No argument. I’d be a terrible boyfriend, fuck, I’d be a terrible friend, if I wasn’t cool with you staying here.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” Sutan nodded. “Besides,” He pulled on Violet’s neck, forcing her down so he could press a kiss against her lips. “I like having you around.”

Sutan smirked, and Violet couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks.”

***

“Where do you think you’re going?” Katya was whispering as she looked over at her fiancé. She and Trixie were in the movies, Annabelle playing on the screen.

“I have to pee, I had an extra large soda.”

Katya placed her hand on Trixie’s chest, pushing him down into the seat, keeping him in place. “No.”

“What?!” Trixie hissed.

“I said no.”

And in that moment Trixie saw how Katya was smiling, and he felt a surge of arousal go through him.

“Okay…”

Trixie leaned back in his chair, Katya’s hand on his chest ending up on his stomach where it rested, keeping him in place.

Trixie couldn’t help but squirm, arousal and the need to pee getting mixed up in his head, a heavy sensation settling over his entire body, his fingers drumming on the seat, restless energy filling him as the movie continued.

“Katya, please…” Tixie hissed, the stupid movie not even halfway done. “I’m about to explode.”

“No.”

Katya smiled, picking up her drink, her lips closing around the straw as she oh so slowly drank the rest of her own small soda, the sound causing chills to run over Trixie’s spine.

Katya held him in seat through the credits, and Trixie had tears in his eyes, he had to pee so badly, but Katya had told him he couldn’t, so he wouldn’t, because he was her good boy.

The very last name ran over the screen, and Katya removed her hand, Trixie shooting up from his seat, his jacket and even his bag forgotten as he ran to the bathroom, a sense of euphoria rushing over him as he could finally, finally, finally pee, his entire body shivering in delight.

***

When Bob heard the design floor door open, he instantly perked up, whirling around in his chair.

“Well well well!” he exclaimed, yelling out to the floor, his oversized coffee mug in hand, a pencil tucked behind her ear. “Look who’s back!”

“Hi everyone,” Violet came through the door, a happy but unsure smile on her face. It was clear that she wanted to wave, but she was stuck with her crutches, a bulgy cast on her ankle.

Violet looked over her shoulder, and Bob felt his eyes bulge out as none other than silver fox of the year, Sutan Amrull, came through the door in an impeccable suit, Violet’s purse and what had to be both of their jackets on his arm.

“I knew it!” Bob cried out, slapping his desk with his hand. “I knew those two were dating! No lipstick my ass!”

He looked around triumphantly, everyone's attention now divided between Bob and the pair at the door, Sutan looking on with a raised eyebrow and a smile on his lips, while Violet seemed like she was wishing that the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

“Good work, Sherlock.” Jovan drawled, his head in his hand as he was sitting backwards on his chair. “How’d you figure that one out?”

“Well you see-” Bob grinned, just about to go on a tangent, when he was cut off by his boyfriend, Maxwell leaning against his desk.

“I literally told you they were dating a fucking week ago.”

“Right.” Bob huffed. “But you’re always wrong about this stuff.”

Sure. Max had told him that about the whole Violet falling thing, the drama with Aiden the talk of the department, but he hadn’t actually believed it when Max had said he had seen Sutan Amrull press a kiss against Violet’s temple, the two of them apparently leaving together.

“Are your coworkers always this much fun?”

Bob’s head whipped at the sound of Sutan’s voice, the man smiling as he looked down at Violet, one of his hands in his suit pocket.

“Don’t answer that Chachki!” Jovan yelled out, making everyone laugh. “Just come on over here!”

Violet looked extremely relieved to be called for, and Sutan followed behind her as she swung herself across the room on her crutches-- No hobbling for that bitch.

“Man, look at you go!” Bob grinned, walking over to Jovan and Violet’s desks, his own work completely abandoned. “It’s like you’ve been using those things all your life!”

“Thanks Bob,” Violet replied drily, even though she was smiling. She looked a lot better than he expected, her hair and makeup done to her usual perfect standards, curls cascading down her back. She was wearing a long sleeved black dress with a high-waisted skirt, and even a heel on her good foot, Violet Chachki as always picture perfect.

“I cannot believe you’re wearing heels with crutches. You’re an icon, and we should all aspire to your standards.”

“You’d fail.”

“Ha!” Jovan snorted, the man giving Violet’s shoulder a quick squeeze before he returned to his computer.

“Besides.” Violet pulled out her chair, sitting down with as much grace as she could muster, shaking her head disdainfully. “It’s only 2 inches.”

“I promise you,” Sutan smiled, putting Violet’s bag down on the table. “I tried to tell her it was a terrible idea.”

“Good to know.” Bob bit his cheek not to give too much away, but on the inside, he was dancing with delight at all the delicious gossip he was gobbling up. “Hi, Bob Caldwell.” Bob held his hand out, nearly shrinking on the inside when Sutan took it. “Design Project Manager.”

“Sutan Amrull,” Sutan smiled, shaking it firmly. “Elite Model Management, though around here I’m probably better known as Raja’s brother. I assume you know her very well.”

“We sure do.” If Bob was honest, he had forgotten that Maxwell had followed him over, but what he wouldn’t forget was the ridiculous grin on his boyfriend's face as he shook hands with Sutan. “I’m Maxwell Heller. Designer.”

“I’m familiar with your work.” Sutan grinned, pulling back to take a seat on the edge of Violet’s desk and Bob wiggled his eyebrows at Max, who nudged his elbow into his side.

“What do you have there, lovely eyes?”

Bob’s eyes widened in delight as Violet looked up like she had fully forgotten they were all still there, her embroidery frame already in hand, the massive skirt she was working on tethered to it.

“The dress.” Violet smiled, the worry Bob had seen on her face when she first walked in all gone now that her work was safely back in her hands. “The couture one.”

“This is your couture dress? Let me see.” Sutan reached into his jacket pocket, taking out a pair of glasses that he quickly slipped on before he carefully picked at the skirt, taking a section that was already done, examining the work. “This is very impressive.”

“Did you hear she’s closing the Spring runway?” Bob grinned, the morning only getting better and better.

“Well,” Sutan pushed his glasses into his hair, a big smile on his face, “with a gown like this, how could she not?”

“And that’s enough for you!” Violet reached out, her cheeks pink as she took the dress from his hands, her tone stern even though she was smiling. “Thank you for fulfilling your duties as a full time boyfriend by carrying my stuff. You can leave now.”

“Boyfriend?” Maxwell squeaked, and this time, it was Bob’s turn to nudge him.

“Am I a little too old for that title?” Sutan smirked, looking between them.

“Well,” Violet interjected, her tone completely dry. “You can be my man friend if you’d prefer?”

“Ha!” Sutan snorted, a grin on his face. “And I think that’s my cue to go. I’ll text you.” He leaned over the desk, giving Violet a quick peck on the lips before standing up, shaking hands with Max and Bob and waving to Jovan as he grabbed his jacket and left.

“Damn Chachki,” Bob watched as Sutan left, his arms crossed over his chest. “We gotta hand it to you. That is one sexy fucking man.”

“Umh…” Violet paused, looking up at them, her embroidery needle already in hand. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.”

***

“Morning, Jackie!” Sutan waved, stopping in the assistant bullpen to check if he had gotten any physical mail. Jackie was a new girl, had originally only started out as a temp, but she had done a shockingly good job, so Elite had officially hired her a few weeks ago.

Sutan didn’t have his own personal assistant, and had never had one even though he was sure Tamisha would give him one if he asked.

“How was your Thanksgiving?”

“Great, thanks.” Jackie smiled, her brown bang swept across her forehead. She was wearing a green and yellow sweater, her nails painted in a deep orange.

Sutan loved Jackie's style, the woman always dressed like she was living in the 60s, but his favorite thing was that she was cool, calm and collected under pressure, and unlike the baby temps, she was a woman in her late 30s who hadn’t just taken the job in the hopes of becoming a model.

“Also,” Jackie lowered her voice, leaning over the desk. “Ms. Petruschin is waiting for you in your office.”

“Hmm?” Sutan raised an eyebrow. He had an open door policy, and everyone was always welcome, but usually, they were welcome when he was actually there. He hadn’t stopped for coffee after dropping Violet off at work, and now, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had made a mistake.

“She didn’t want to wait at reception, so I let her in.”

“Ah.” Sutan nodded. That sounded just about right for Raven. “Don’t worry about it. You did the right thing.”

Sutan walked over to his office, not even trying his key in the door since he knew it’d be unlocked.

“Raven!” Sutan put on his best game face, his voice light and happy. “To what do we owe the honor of your presence?”

Raven looked up from where she was sitting-- not sprawled on the couch where she’d normally be, but at a chair in front of his desk, spine ramrod straight, her Birkin carefully placed on the floor.

“... Everything okay?” Sutan shut the door behind him, quickly flicking the lock. Normally when he had his models come by, he’d take a seat behind his desk, but today, that didn’t seem like the right option, so instead, he sat on the corner of the table, looking down at his sister in law. “Raven?”

“I,” Raven bit her lip, her white teeth sinking into it. “I have something to tell you.”

“Okay?” Sutan kept his voice level, doing everything he could not to let his worry show on his face. The last time Raven had come to him like this, it had been with an absolute disaster involving several talks with a lawyer, but Raja hadn’t said anything, hadn’t given him any hints or sent a single text, so it couldn’t be that bad.

“So,” Raven took a deep breath, lifting her chin as she looked directly at him. “I don’t want to do swimwear anymore.”

“.... Okay?”

“It’s not worth it, and I hate it.”

Out of everything Sutan had dreaded. Of all the things that had flashed through his mind. This was not what he had expected at all.

“Well, that’s not a problem.”

“You’re not mad?” Raven’s eyes widened, surprise and anxiety painted on her beautiful face.

It was clear that Raven had expected him to be disappointed, or even upset, and Sutan couldn’t help but remember the inexperienced young girl he’d signed at only 17 years old.

It had been a long time since he’d been reminded of that, the Raven of today much more likely to slam a door or yell in his face, but the tough act had always been and would always be a facade to hide her obvious vulnerability.

Other agents had sometimes asked how he dealt with her, how he could remain calm in the storm of Raven’s emotions, but he had always felt responsible for her well being, and had always felt protective of her.

“Raven.” Sutan crossed his arms. “It’s your career. Your body. Your decisions. How I feel, and how the brand feels doesn’t matter if you hating it is your genuine emotion.”

Raven nodded, swallowing, and Sutan could see that it wasn’t an easy decision for her.

“As your agent, it’s my responsibility to make sure that you stick to your commitments, but cancellation fees exist for a reason.”

At that, Raven winced, two cancellation fees taking a hefty chunk out of her next paycheck, half of the money going to the brand while the other would end up in Sutan’s pocket but she didn’t protest, sticking to her decision, and that was when he knew she was serious, that she had thought it through.

“Rave,” Sutan reached out, touching her shoulder. “We’re okay.”

At that, a smile finally cracked through, a relieved sigh coming from her. “Good.”

“You know,” Sutan pushed up from the desk, walking around it. “We just got the potential for a Clinique campaign.” Sutan picked up the sales pitch he had received, Clinique sending over a courier with the products they wanted to focus on, Raven being one of their top five picks for the campaign.

“Clinique?”

“I wasn’t going to offer it to you because it conflicted with your December shoots, so I’ve been pulling alts for them, but now, it seems like we can say yes.”

“They pay well, don’t they?”

“That they do,” Sutan had to hide a smile at Raven’s obvious enthusiasm. “You haven’t filmed any commercials in a while, and I know you generally avoid speaking.”

To say that would be an understatement, a director once telling teenage Raven that he couldn’t understand her because of her Russian accent. Raven had gone directly to a speech therapist after that, even though Sutan had found it completely unnecessary, the director just a bigoted jerk.

“Consider it.” Sutan handed her the pitch. ���You’d be absolutely fabulous.”

“Maybe,” Raven smirked, “if the offers are lucrative enough to be worth my time.” She tossed her long dark hair over one shoulder, and Sutan grinned.

That was the girl he knew and loved.

“Only the very best, top tier gigs for you.”

“Exactly,” Raven laughed, standing up, the pitch still in hand as she cleared her throat. “Well, guess I’m off.”

“Off to celebrate with some bonus desserts?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothing.” Sutan smirked. “Just remember that you’re still a model.”

“Yeah, yeah yeah, stop yapping,” Raven said, her sass fully back as she sailed out the door with a flurry of air kisses.

“Leave it open!” Sutan sat down at his desk, his plans for the day suddenly shifted around. First of all, he’d have to call up the magazine who had booked the shoots and break the news that Raven wouldn’t be available.

It’d require some smooth talk, but it was what he did best.

The real challenge of the day was convincing them to switch to another model, and hopefully, a model that resided under his own wing.

Sutan pressed the button that called for Jackie, the woman showing up before he had even opened his computer. She really was incredible at the job.

“You called?”

“I need the best possible portfolio we can make for Symone, and I need it stat.”

***

“Oh dear god…” Fame covered her eyes with her hands. “Please tell me that this has been handled, Raja, I cannot-”

“Of course it’s been handled. Trixie let Aiden go on Tuesday, and Rita took care of everything with the hospital. We’re making an attorney available to Violet if she wants to press charges.”

“Do you think she will?” Fame asked, concern creasing her brow. “That’s the last thing we-”

“Listen. We obviously can’t do anything to dissuade her, or we face an even bigger liability.”

“I know that, Raja,” Fame snapped.

“-But, my guess is that she’ll want to wash her hands of the whole thing, certainly not become embroiled in a lawsuit.”

“Right. Right…” Fame sighed. “And we’ve covering all medical costs, taxis, whatever she needs right?”

“Of course. It’s a worker’s comp thing now, so everything’s covered by insurance.”

“Good. I should probably send her something, too. Flowers, maybe. Or a little spa treatment?”

“That would be nice, I’m sure she’d appreciate it. She’s staying with Tan if you want to-”

“Courtney!” Fame called out, pausing for a few moments before shaking her head. “I swear, that girl left her head at home today. Courtney!”

***

Courtney was obsessing again, reading her last text exchange with Bianca for about the 75th time since Friday.

COURTNEY: Have a good flight! <3

BIANCA: Thx! See you next week. XX

It was so mundane, so trite, and Courtney found herself cringing inwardly every time she looked at it, wishing she’d said something deeper or smarter or more sophisticated. And the “see you next week” - did that imply that Bianca didn’t want to talk to her while she was away? It certainly sounded like it. But Courtney wanted to send her another message, wanted desperately to let her know that she was still thinking about her.

She’d been racking her brain for something, anything, to say. She could ask her a question about their upcoming meeting at Marie Claire on Friday, but something told Courtney that would be transparent and dumb, and in no way sexy anyway. What she was really thinking about, nearly constantly, was if she’d ever get to feel Bianca’s hands on her again, the heat of her mouth, the press of her perfect body. That she was ready to sell her soul for one more night together, one more exhilarating night...

But she couldn’t very well say that. She didn’t want to appear needy or crazy, even if that’s how she felt. What she’d said to Adore was tragically true: the ball was entirely in Bianca’s court. And if she was done, if she didn’t intend to see her again except at work-related events or casual encounters, then that was something Courtney would just have to live with.

The one source of hope that Courtney had, maybe a false one, was the way Bianca had kissed her goodbye. Soft and tender, cradling her face, a kiss that promised more.

Even if she’d made no such promise out loud.

Even if Courtney was an absolute idiot for thinking that’s what it meant.

“Courtney!”

Her head snapped up, realizing with a sinking feeling that Miss Fame had called her name multiple times. Shit. She grabbed her notepad and jumped up.

“Coming Miss!”

***

[shinelikethunder]

Fic idea, free to a good home

Or multiple good homes. I want to read the SHIT out of at least a dozen different people’s takes on it. Framed as CA:TWS fic because yes shut up I’m still not over it, but could be adapted to other fandoms:

Steve Rogers. The Winter Soldier. An arsenal ship/floating armory adrift somewhere in the Indian Ocean. The bloody remains of the original crew strewn all over the deck. An absolute shitload of weaponry everywhere. Both of them already injured. Both of them under orders to kill each other. Neither of them sure they can trust the superiors who gave the orders. And then a cleanup team shows up, origin and organization unknown, and starts gunning for both of them.

Or, you know, whatever you feel like extrapolating from something resembling that basic premise. There are so many potential elaborations on the “trapped on a weird-ass high-seas arms depot under dubious circumstances” setup I’d be interested in that I’ve lost track of them all. Off the top of my head, great tastes that would taste great together with this include:

Forced team-ups. Identity porn. Competence kink. Ultraviolent carnage feat. lovingly-described high-caliber firearms. Mayhem in international waters. Bottle episode. Bitingly relevant SHIELD/Hydra skullduggery (and that’s a whole other gaggle of convoluted fic plots kicking around my head, most of which start with “Hydra false-flag op meant to be pinned on Somali pirates”). Conveniently timed storms for a man-vs-the-elements subplot. A ship that can’t be piloted solo and isn’t going anywhere unless they work together. An equally-matched fight scene where they fuck each other up brutally enough to kill a normal human ten times over, and then they realize mid-fight that they’ve been set up by the same organization. (...Both of them too exhausted post-reveal to even let go and disentangle themselves, so they just stop grappling and lie there bleeding on each other. One of them grudgingly, warily holding still and biting holes in his tongue while the other tends a wound he inflicted earlier that day... um... where were we again?)

To be honest, I’m mostly tossing the scenario out for general public usage because I suspect it’d make a Quality(TM) corkboard: take the emotionally-horny moments that tickle your id, string them together with as much or as little plot as you feel like, and tack them in place with enough gratuitous ass-kicking to make your lizard brain sit up and go “this is metal as fuck.”

Like personally? Yeah, I’d be ALL OVER the identity-porn feels fest or the h/c wound-tending or the action thriller with political overtones, but I fully admit that most of my enthusiasm for this premise comes from my lizard brain and the dumb shit it thinks is cool. I read too much Neal Stephenson at a formative age, OK? Some part of me just desperately wants Hydra stenciling ULTIMA RATIO REGUM on the Winter Soldier’s sniper rifle, sending him out to destabilize geopolitics and assassinate Captain America--and getting a rude surprise when the two of them hit it off, decide sharing is caring when it comes to a ship packed stem-to-stern with absurd amounts of weaponry, and team up to make some fascist fucks listen to Reason.

More links on floating armories:

Detailed report from 2014 that’s cited (with a broken link) in the WSJ article, including a list of known ships that fit the defintion, types and quantities of weapons approved for export from the UK for private maritime security companies, and lists of the sketchiest countries to register a ship that’s essentially a giant guns-and-ammo stockpile: https://omegaresearchfoundation.org/publications/floating-armouries-implications-and-risks-december-2014 (DON’T @ ME ABOUT THE ORG NAME, I SWEAR TO GOD)

A take focusing on the POV of South Asian governments who are in the splash zone for all the messes involved: https://www.stratpost.com/floating-armories-pvt-armed-guards-worry-navy/

A general inside-baseball take from within the maritime-security industry http://www.seacurus.com/newsletter/Seacurus_Issue_19.pdf

An earlier, spring 2012 writeup of the Emerging Phenomenon that gives you an idea of the incredible dodginess of most of these operations and the, uh, law-lite zone they operate in. (“His company only used floating armouries licensed by the Djibouti government and flew the flag of landlocked Mongolia, he said. He believed most of the rest were not operating legally.”) http://www.marsecreview.com/2012/03/floating-armouries/

Look, I know it’s been five years. You don’t have to share my abiding and overlong investment in Captain America: The Winter Soldier. I’m sure there are a squillion fandoms you could use this for, and if that’s what you want to do, godspeed! I just think fic authors need to know about this utterly bonkers setting that is totally a real-live actual Thing in this world.

[marcoshassanlevy]

“What is the utility of pain? Can it do anything but fester?“ These words appear at the beginning of In Ferneaux’s liner notes, the newest album by Blanck Mass. More than any other album in Benjamin Powers’ discography under this name, In Ferneaux is an encapsulation of pain that combines into the perfect balm for our trying times.

Blanck Mass’s music has always felt like the soundtrack of self-isolation. An aural universe where introspection becomes an expansive and explosive experience full of ebbs of calmness followed by harsh darkness or vibrant color. Having said that, In Ferneaux stands out because it was conceived and delivered in a world halted by a pandemic.

Recorded in 2020 when lockdowns were happening around the world due to COVID-19, Powers was inspired by his inability to tour and reflected on past treks around the world, undusting field recordings made throughout the years as inspiration for the music he was working on, which resulted in two lengthy tracks — or “phases.”

The result is an eclectic album that flows from one emotion to the other in order to provide us an abstract narrative with which to make sense of our new normality.

Take the opening moments of “Phase I.” The intro could easily be mistaken for a tribute to Tangerine Dream or Vangelis with droning synth pads and arpeggiated chords racing through the stereo field. This builds up until feedback announces a beat drop and it becomes an ecstatic trance-influenced raver, and then it returns to evocative score mode before dissolving into a drone.

The also-member of Fuck Buttons has shown a talent for transcending his influences to make something special, from drone noise or ambient to death industrial and experimental techno. In Ferneaux reflects it more than any other entry in his catalog.

Each of the two tracks is composed of various movements — crescendos descend to droning valleys and transitions are made via field recorded dialogs — drawing comparisons to similar arrangements by Godspeed You! Black Emperor; however, unlike the post rock nonet, Blanck Mass doesn’t build to bombast. At different points, distorted drones are held only to fade, while harsh electronic noise passages confront the listener. Sometimes the contrasts from one piece to the next are quite extreme, while other times they flow in a more organic manner. These transitions are employed with a novelist sensitivity, it helps build a narrative world in the listener’s head. When In Ferneaux hits this stride, it becomes transcendental.

If there’s a theme behind In Ferneaux, it’s about an abstraction of the world to which it has been delivered to. Considering the liner notes, perhaps the album represents a way for us to reflect on what we’re going through at the moment, something that we’ve been urged to ignore since day one by authorities, jobs, social media, etc.

In Ferneaux demands your commitment to journey into harsh soundscapes, abrupt mood shifts and the surrendering of your senses to acknowledge what surrounds in isolation: fear, anxiety, anger over society’s faults, and ultimately death. By interpreting them with sound, Blanck Mass invites us to take the time to let this sink in and deal with these emotions through masses of contrasting, brilliant music.

Prerequisites: Blanck Mass’ World Eater, Tangerine Dream’s Phaedra and Godspeed You! Black Emperor’s Slow Riot In New Zero Kanada

[viruswithsaas]

2017

Just done my last radioshow of the year, absolute shitperformance, and I won’t be on the air until the third of january. It seemed like a good idea to put the spotlight on my favourites records of the year. So instead of a playlist, here’s a blogpost.

TOP 10 ------------------

(In almost no particular order)

1. “The Assassination of Julius Caesar” - Ulver. A brilliant, mysterious album that explores the mechanisms behind the rise and fall of icons. Seen the many celebrity deaths and scandals surrounding moguls in the entertainment industry, the timing of its release was spot on. Musically it is comfortably seated between Massive Attack and Depeche Mode. An old school album where nothing is mixed IN YOUR FACE.

2. “Sacred” - The Obsessed. Let’s be honest, it is basically another Scott “Wino” Weinrich record but even at the age of 56(!) he sounds meaner than 99% of the extreme metal players out there and the man can still come up with riffs that can bite through steel cables and juicy leads. Still, it has been a while since he has sounded this badass and angry. As expected his style is firmly rooted in 70’s and 80’s metal/punk but with a deliverance like his, who gives a fuck?

3. “Nåde” - Område. Perhaps the sound of metal in the future. Studio-based but eclectic, adventurous and exciting.

4. “New Model” - Perturbator. Hands down my favourite electronic release of the year. Gone is the camp and the 80’s pastiche and in came 2017 with phat synths, earthquaking basslines and fresh beats. Heavier than most metal records I’ve heard all year.

5. “Okovi” - Zola Jesus. Anti-pop that brings together industrial beats and gothic esthetic in a slick mix. For those who can set aside their frame of mind, a gentle mindfuck.

6. “Ispahan” - Fantoompijn. Epic post rock, on the same level as veterans Mono and Godspeed You! Black Emperor in terms of composition, deliverance and intensity.

7. “Story of M” - Shrine of August. A mature, well balanced prog metal album with the most gorgeous vocal work I’ve heard all year.

8. “Devil is Fine” - Zeal & Ardor. A vivid, evil mix between furious black metal and wailing gospel.

9. “Alive” - Krakow. A crisp registration of a stellar performance from this post metal band, ironically not from Poland but Bergen, Norway.

10.“The Spiralling Madness” -  Ivolve & Etherik An album that elegantly mixes trip hop with retro rock.

Honorary mentions:

“Mareidt” - Myrkur

“Savage Sinusoid” - Igorrr

“Burst” - Brutus

“Obesitatas” - Kaasschaaf

“Mirror Reaper” - Bell Witch

“Before the Applause” - Re-TROS

“De Kenny’s gaan in het rood” - De Kenny’s

“The Orphic” - Wells Valley

Duds:

S/T - Prophets of Rage: a cynical moneygrab with one decent track and fluff.

S/T - Powerflo: subpar performance from otherwise decent musicians and a terrible MC.

S/T - Crystal Fairy: musically one of the best things The Melvins have ever done but singer Teri Gender Bender butches it up.

“Gargoyle” - Mark Lanegan: rather uninspired album and Mark Lanegan is trying to catch up with himself.

“Villains” - Queens of the Stone Age: yet another forgettable record.

“Humanz” - Gorillaz: gone are the lush production, gorgeous arrangements and tasty keyboards, instead the band served the audience a mixtape of undercooled clubtracks, on top of that six months after the release trap exploded thus completely outdating the album before it even hit its first anniversary mark. Looking forward to; The new Nightstalker [BE](?) The new Dol Ammad (?) “Marrow Hymns” - Insect Ark (february ‘18) “Anatomical Venus” - Black Moth (januari ‘18) “Dead Prophets & Unsung Messiahs” - Orphaned Land (januari ‘18) “Mindfucker” - Monster Magnet (march ‘18) “To Walk Amongst Them, Unnoticed” - Black Narcissus (januari ‘18) The new Tool album (december 2018? 3018?) - Ivo VirusWithShoes

[cyberstabbing]

Crime

Playing With Power - When a mafia boss, Gerard, wins Frank in a poker game he sets out to be the first man to break Frank as his pet. But Frank is tougher than he looks and his pride refuses to back down. As their relationship unfolds their feelings for each other manifest into something much more dangerous - love. Trigger warning: This is an extremely dark story involving S&M and some non-con sex. 87k

Under the Hide of Me - Prohibition in New Jersey means mob bosses and bootleggers running hooch up and down the shore and into the city. Gerard Way, his brother, and their friend Ray are running an operation for the Capo Maranzano. Rival factions are trying to take over the business, and Frank Iero, from a prominent Mob family, is sent to them as their new driver. But the Ways and Ray are hiding two secrets: their own still on a farm in the Pine Barrens, and something darker yet. They’re werewolves. 18k

The Enigma’s Anomaly - Frank is a skilled assassin. He kills people for a living. He is not meant to fall in love with someone he’s been hired to kill. He’s supposed to just kill the guy and get it over with.If that’s the case then why is Gerard Way still alive? 146k

A Kiss on Bloody Lips - Frank stumbles on a serial killer that’s been terrorizing his city for weeks, and gets more than he bargained for when his obsession comes to a climax. 12k

Promises, Promises (Don’t Send Me Back In 30 Days) - “Sources on our investigative team say this was a bank robbery gone wrong, and that, when faced with a police task force surrounding the building, the suspect grabbed the nearest person and is now holding that young man at gunpoint as he makes his getaway.” 26k

Two Industrial Loads On Hot - Frank works the overnight shift at the laundromat, partially because it’s easier to push prescription painkillers on the side in the middle of the night, but mostly because there are fewer disapproving old people around to tattle on him for playing The Floor Is Lava on the washing machines. 3k

I keep thinking about this. There’s just something about it.

Public Enemy - In 1932, Gerard Way has been making a name for himself robbing banks up and down New Jersey. Frank Iero, analyst for J. Edgar Hoover’s Division of Investigation, is determined to catch him. 21k

I probably failed my math test today bc of this fic. I just stayed up reading this instead of studying. Whoops.

Point of No Return (not!fic) - So, have any of you seen that movie Point of No Return where Bridget Fonda is forced to be a government assassin after being busted for killing a cop while she was a drug addict in her misspent youth? And Gabriel Byrne (hello, yes please!) is her handler and Dermot Mulroney (before he got all skeevy) is her hotass photographer boyfriend? <1k

godspeed us to sea - His first thought is oh Jesus, it’s over already. He wonders if Gerard will even bother to bury him. i don’t know how long this is … maybe around 30k?

Mob! AU. I cried. Not that much gore tbh.

​Everything in Your Eyes - Gerard's been part of super crime for the past five years, and he's never seen anything like this. A telepathic noir story. 5k

a must-read.

The FBI Gets Shit Done - A new series that’s like a cop show but with words.

Gerard, the boss, is an expert profiler and an easily irritated man at the head of a team that is dysfunctional and somehow functional at the same time. The arrival of newbie, Frank, is what sets the story in motion with the instant hatred instituted between Gerard and Frank. Their two styles of crime solving clash perfectly to make the team efficient and productive. However, the two men at each other’s throats may be a disguise for the feelings just below the surface. Three parts, 16k, 35k and 18k (70k in total)

Thicker Than Water - Frank used to be able to count the number of times he's killed for the Family on the fingers of one hand. That was years ago, but he'll always remember the first one. Gerard was daydreaming, and Frank had only just learnt how to use a gun. Frank was twelve years old. 1.9k

;_;

You Keep Me Sane - Gerard has become infatuated with a young librarian that had only spoken to him once before, and he realized that he didn't have the usual, unrelenting craving to kill. No, He had a different urge, one that seemed a little more dangerous... 144k

I read some of this before I started keeping track of read fics, so that’s why it hasn’t been on here until now. But aloooot more words have been written since 2016 (144k now. holy shit), and someone just reminded me abt it, so here’s to rereading!

Shook-Up World - Part 1 of the 1930s Dragverse series - Frank is just a kid when he discovers Gerard's secret, and it changes his life. When they meet again by chance years later, Frank's carrying around a few secrets of his own. 5k

On the Getaway Mile - Part 2 of the 1930s Dragverse series - It's the last year of Prohibition, and bootlegger Frank Iero wants to sever his ties to the world of organized crime and go straight, but his mob connections have other plans for him. No one would like to see Frank get away from the mob more than Gerard, but he's got problems of his own--like the fact that he's a cross-dressing cabaret singer constantly struggling to keep his true identity secret from those who can't be trusted. With the help of a devoted brother, a detective who just might be as trustworthy as he claims, and a wealthy, eccentric Scotsman who features prominently in Gerard's past, Frank and Gerard just might be able to get out and start a new life together, but it's not going to be easy.

A tale of gangsters, garter belts, love (hopefully) overcoming all obstacles, and a whole lot of coffee. 40k

Here’s the comment I left - not too spoiler-y I hope: God, this fic needs a fucking movie. Also, I googled '30s halter gown' to better understand what Gerard was wearing and *waves fan* holy shit. No wonder G could jerk off at the thought of dresses. Now I want to re read the whole thing again and google all the outfits! Kudos to you, seriously, the amount of research that must have gone into writing this ... insane.

Like Fog on Glass - For Gerard, love can only come in the form of possession. If he is owned, he is loved--if he is sold, he becomes nothing. Untouchable in the eyes of the man, his Master, whom he held above all others.

For Frank, love is...enigmatic. Romantic. You can't buy it on street corners or in seedy bars on the outskirts of town. You can't steal it. You can't force it or kindle it from nothing. At least, you're not supposed to.

Love was certainly not what Frank expected to find when circumstances led him to spend his final $5k on a broken human being put up for auction on the bad side of town. Love...you didn't give that to creatures like Gerard. 111k

The Collision of Your Kiss - Gerard can hardly believe it when his new neighbor and latest obsession, Frank Iero, agrees to go out to dinner with him. It seems as though Gerard's dreams have come true, but he soon discovers that Frank's "hobby" is a little unconventional. Gerard still wants to be with him, though--if Frank's deadly secret doesn't put a wrench in their relationship. 4k

A Lap-Dance is so Much Better (When the Stripper is Crying) - Ray—and his ambiguously named friend ‘John’—force a depressed Frank to go the strip club downtown after he’s been broken up with. It’s a shame no one would listen to him when he insisted that this wasn’t just a strip club—it was a whore house. And no, he did not appreciate the lap-dance. 4k

Purgatorio - While on leave from the police force, Detective Frank Iero occupies himself with three things: drinking, brawling, and being alone. But when a series of brutal murders calls him back to active duty, he must find a killer while confronting people from his past, including estranged best friend turned businessman Mikey Way, and deal with his unwilling attraction to Mikey's enigmatic older brother Gerard. 27k

It’s been a while since i read this, but i remember it really good. It had such a mysterious vibe to it, and I loved how dark and gritty it was. Oh and Gerard makes really fucking cool metal sculptures in this one. ‘Twas awesome. 

Rising With the Heat - "Bullet?" he says, voice high and confused. "Um, hi?" Frank says, dropping to the ground. "You're the one – have you been following me all week?" Gerard asks, slowly lowering the spray can. Bob's going to give him so much shit for this. "I just wanted to make sure you got home safe." 2k

Frank is a superhero sidekick who’s fallen for Gerard, who he previously saved from getting mugged. Gerard finds it cute. And maybe a little bit hot.

[grumpiestgrumpdump]

All the Queen questions, tho

THANKS TUMBLR FOR NOTIFYING ME OF AN ASK FROM A LOVELY PERSON.

>-> Anyways…

Bohemian Rhapsody - What matters to you more than anything in the world?

It’s going to sound cliche, but my friends. My best friends. They not only ground me on my bad days, but help me build a ladder to get back out of the pit. They inspire me in so many ways to create (even if I am terrified to post my writing anywhere and hesitant at best with my art). They know who they are.

Another One Bites The Dust - What one thing would you wipe off the face of the earth?

The whole of the GOP/nazis. I mean… Um.. FUCK MY ANSWER IS GOING TO BE POLITICAL PERIOD SO YEAH.

Under Pressure - How stressed are you currently?

AHAHAHAHAHAAHAAAHHHhhhhooo god. Currently I think my mind is blocking out current stresses over my car. Which I am sure people are tired of seeing me reblog about.

We Will Rock You - What was the last concert you went to?

STEVEN WILSON AT THE VARIETY PLAYHOUSE IN ATLANTA, GEORGIA, BABY!! It was my fifth time seeing him perform, and my third this year alone. Seriously, if you’re into progressive rock or just some damn good music that is well written, produced, and mastered, go listen to him. He’s also done a lot of remixes of classic prog albums by King Crimson, Gentle Giant, and Jethro Tull.

Besides the Grumps/NSP/TWRP, Steven Wilson is my big thing.

Somebody To Love - Are you looking for somebody to love?

Not really. Would it be nice if it happened? Of course, but I’m not going to go looking. I’m pretty damn alright with being single.

We Are The Champions - What achievement are you most proud of?

Living to see thirty despite how much life has thrown at me and dealing with chronic pain. THAT ONE GOT DEEP.

Radio GaGa - What do you think of today’s popular music?

*cracks knuckles* Are you even ready for this rant? I’ll try to keep it short.

I hate it. Absolutely hate it. It’s overproduced, unoriginal, and at times degrading. Nearly everyone uses auto tune over vocal talent (there is a time, place, and level for auto tune). There’s no skill nor heart put into it anymore. It’s all about money, fame, and followers. Are there exceptions? Of course (namely thinking of Florence + The Machine here), as there always are, but the majority of it is just awful.

This is why I listen to things that aren’t inherently “popular” with the masses. A lot of metal, progressive (rock and metal), stoner, psychedelic, and doom. I’ve discovered a lot of bands who deserve so much more than what they have. Am I happy when they get mainstream attention? Of fucking course! Because it means that there is a moment in the constant flood of Gucci and “be beautiful and rich to be awesome” that is different. Is strong enough, even if for a moment, to stand against the flow and say “THERE IS SOMETHING MORE”. This is why I was so fucking excited when “Danny Don’t You Know” blew up, and Cool Patrol stayed at #1 on Billboard as long as it did. Why I lost my shit when Steven Wilson was interviewed by them after To The Bone came out, and they premiered the video for “Song of I”. For one moment, there was something truly original out there, and (maybe) some people saw it and said “this is fucking awesome, what have I been missing out on?”

That wasn’t as short as I thought it might be, but I could wax poetic about the state of the music industry and popular music for hours. Also... That's just my opinion. If you like popular music, have at it. I'm happy you can enjoy something I generally can't, and it does something for you.

I Want To Break Free - If you could move to any part of the world, where would you want to live?

With my platonic life mate in Michigan where she currently lives. She is the Dan to my Arin.

Love Of My Life - Have you ever had your heart broken?

Yep. I spent a whole fucking week listening to Steven Wilson’s “Hand. Cannot. Erase.” album because of it, and sobbing every time I heard “Routine” and “Ancestral”.

Killer Queen - What is your favourite thing about yourself?

My ability to name every Porcupine Tree album in chronological order in under 30 seconds, probably.

The Show Must Go On - What is something you will never give up?

Music. I can’t play a thing, and my vocals aren’t that great since I did some hefty damage to them, but I have an insane appreciation for music. Which is why I write for a music blog.

Crazy Little Thing Called Love - Name some of your favourite musicians.

OH BOY GET READY! I am not going to include NSP or TWRP because those should be a given, honestly.

Steven Wilson (and anything he has done which includes Porcupine Tree, Bass Communion, his solo stuff, and more), Opeth, Storm Corrosion, Diary Of My Misanthropy, Russian Circles, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Volbeat, Calabrese, Mastodon, Sabaton, Powerwolf, Alestorm, The Sword, Blood Ceremony, Deathbell, URSA, Elder, King Buffalo, Process of Illumination, The Night Flight Orchestra, American Murder Song, Riverside, Lunatic Soul, Marillion, Pink Floyd, Rush, King’s X, Minsk, Night Runner, The Necromancers…

The list could go on for a WHILE. I highly suggest checking some of these guys out. Some of them are smaller bands (like The Necromancers, Elder, King Buffalo, Diary Of My Misanthropy, and Deathbell) I or my friend found on Bandcamp.

Who Wants To Live Forever - If you could be immortal, would you?

No, because I couldn’t handle seeing everyone I love and care for grow old and die.

Fat Bottomed Girls - What are some traits you look for in a partner?

Someone who is understanding and accepting of the fact I deal with chronic pain and demisexual, who clicks with me on many levels (especially music), and… Is awesome? I dunno.

I Want It All - If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?

Right now, a fucking working car. That’d be GREAT.

[newmusicmonthly]

2017

Hello,

It has been a whole year without a monthly mailer, hence this now being a yearly mailer.

I hope you’ve all had a great year (and that said monthly mailer hasn’t been missed too much… or has it?).

Anyway, below are my top ten picks of the year, plus my five track picks per month for the whole year (which I have sequenced and arranged roughly chronologically, for your listening pleasure, and because I like lists).

Normal monthly service will hopefully be resumed next year.

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year, Roger

TOP 10 TRACKS

LCD Soundsystem – how do you sleep?

The Killers – The Man

Godspeed You! Black Emperor – Anthem for No State (Pt.I-III)

The War On Drugs – Pain

The Horrors – Something To Remember Me By

Spoon – Whisperi’lllistentohearit

The Orange Drop – The Curse of Kukaka

Endless Boogie – Back in ‘74

Chris Forsyth – Have We Mistaken the Bottle for the Whiskey Inside

Ron Gallo – Young Lady, You’re Scaring Me

TOP 10 ALBUMS

LCD Soundsystem – american dream

The Horrors – V

Endless Boogie – Vibe Killer

The Orange Drop – Stoned In Love

The War On Drugs – A Deeper Understanding

Mount Eerie – A Crow Looked at Me

Broken Social Scene – Hug Of Thunder

Michael Nau – Some Twist

Boubacar Tarore – Dounia Tabolo

Richard Dawson – Peasant

Special mention to the best compilation of the year, Various Artists – Wayfaring Strangers: Acid Nightmares

TOP 10 GIGS

31/10/17 – Godspeed You! Black Emperor, The Troxy, London

16/03/17 – Glass Animals, Brixton Academy, London

29/10/17 – The Horrors, KOKO, London

09/12/17 – Marilyn Manson, Wembley Arena, London

01/09/17 – Interpol, Alexandra Palace, London

04/11/17 – Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Brixton Academy, London

17/06/17 – The Stone Roses, Wembley Stadium, London

11/02/17 – Matthew Logan Vasquez, Islington Assembly Hall, London

13/06/17 – Prophets of Rage, Brixton Academy, London

26/09/17 – Kirin J. Callinan, Hoxton Bar And Grill, London

Special mention to the best festival of the year, quite clearly Glastonbury.

NEW MUSIC 2017

The Orange Drop – The Curse of Kukaka Strictly speaking this was released late last year; an exemplary psych wig-out.

King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard – Nuclear Fusion Ever wondered what people mean by playing behind the beat? Well you can hear the two drummers play both behind and in front of the beat… in the same song! Mentally groovy!

Dead Horse One – Insight Again, released at the end of last year; a wonderful droning compressed psych embrace.

Miles Mosley – Abraham Man alive this band have chops, a fantastic piano-led soul/funk work-out.

Small Feet – A Winter Coat On Bare Bones I think Stockholm band-leader Simon is special singer/song-writer somewhat reminiscent of Neil Young; a song for lonely winter walks.

Loyle Carner – The Isle Of Arran Great rapper, inspiring lyrics, awesome performer, and one of the best samples all year; nuff said.

Sinkane – Telephone Subtle this is not; big dance grooves.

Ron Gallo – Young Lady, You’re Scaring Me Part White Stripes, part Two Gallants, part Rival Sons,; all rock n roll!

Tinariwen – Sastanaqqam The elder masters of ‘desert’ blues always hit the spot.

Strand of Oaks – Everything Punchy boisterous rock, with a few Elvis/Josh Homme ‘Huhs!’ thrown in for good measure.

All Them Witches – 3-5-7 Love this band; rolling heavy stoner rock grooves.

Chicos de Nazca – Never Ends Even woozier than the above, sun washed tequila haze guitars abound.

Great Ytene – Locus Post punk but also four to the floor rock, interspersed with, and descending into, gnawing nervous, and bordering on atonal, washes.

Cameron Avery – C’est Toi Crooning ‘standards’ love song authentically made modern; big baritonevoice, strings and cinematic appeal aplenty.

W.H. Lung – Inspiration! This is a stellar find, coming across as a mix up of Neu!, Talking Heads and Hookworms, exceptional!

Spoon – WhisperI’lllistentohearit Really good album but it is the propulsive drumming which is absolutely stand-out brilliant on this track.

Tamikrest – Wainan Adobat New masters of ‘desert’ blues in my opinion, this is a great up-tempo number.

Mount Eerie – Ravens One of the most difficult and most emotionally affecting songs I’ve ever listened to. Painfully sad and personal, as real as a portrayal of grief as I can imagine.

British Sea Power – Praise For Whatever A tale of two songs in one, with the first half given to atypical British Sea Power songwriting, before mid-way through out stomps an enormous bass lead groove wig out.

The Black Angels – Half Believing Modern psych kings back on form with this menacing yet mournful track.

Betrayers – Belong Here Raga No idea how I found this, but it’s a chugging bluesy number, although not sure it qualifies as a raga.

Matthew Logan Vasquez – Same Stomping, grooving funk soul rock.

Jane Weaver – Did You See Butterflies? Jane laying down those now trademark motorik bass and beats and ethereal vocals, this time concerned with butterflies.

Thurston Moore – Exalted A slowly unfurling melodic opening gives way to some molten guitar workout, before some almighty build and release crashes, and then comes the vocals; immense.

Ho99o9 – United States Of Horror Speaking of immense, these guys are fucking awesome; turn it up to 11, atop spitfire politically charged lyrics, but unlike anything else out there.

Endless Boogie – Back in ‘74 Boogie-tastic with perhaps my favourite lyrics of the year about a kite flying contest at a Kiss concert in 1974.

Pumarosa – Red Beautiful vocals float above a glorious melody and some seriously tight grooves.

Aldous Harding – Blend Sparse, confessional sounding, but altogether quite beautiful.

Minotaurs – Hipswinger Now I know I go on about grooves, but seriously, this is just groove-tastic, when it drops around 0:55, I mean, hell yeah I’m gonna swing my hips; with added brass.

Richard Dawson – Weaver This is a very unique album; it is a concept album, I’ll say no more; this was the track I returned to most often.

Hey Colossus – In A Collision Chugging rock which also manages to sound ominous and delicate at the same time.

Floating Points – Kelso Dunes Ambient instrumental post rock that really taps into a driving motoric groove, that borders on space rock!

B Boys – B Boys Anthem Arty, brash, tight rock song barely over a minute

Michael Nau – Good Thing The sound of this album is a joy, with warm tones and an obvious hiss akin to old records; this track is the most lovely of the lot.

Peter Perret – Living In My Head This is real climbing up the walls, in your head, blues-esque stuff; how Peter Perret has come back from the brink to deliver this kind of great music is anyone’s guess.

Broken Social Scene – Vanity Pail Kids Industrial pounding opening and a soaring indie chorus.

Holy Fuck – Chains Oh Holy Fuck; this is scary techno, which piles on the layers of noise and pounding beats until your ears bleed; it has it’s time and place, but I love it.

Public Service Broadcasting – The Pit Top band, with another great idea for an album; battle like drums and swelling guitar swirls and strings.

Dan Croll – Tokyo Classy pop song-writing with an absolute earworm of a motif.

Jesus on Heroine – Neu!comers A glorious bed of guitars and gentle swells.

Kacy & Clayton – The Light of Day Some 70s folk sounds, bordering on country vocals, warm yet clear.

Chris Forsyth – Have We Mistaken the Bottle for the Whiskey Inside There is that groove; reminds me a bit of a favourite from last year, The Wave Pictures, in the instrumentation, except this has more drawl.

LCD Soundsystem – how do you sleep? So fucking good; the definitive 101 on how to create a build in a song; ominous percussion, unnerving strings, savagely brilliant lyrics (perhaps a touch Bono-esque), which has drop after drop as each instrument is introduced, building to the brilliant titular pay-off; my only gripe is that James didn’t fucking play it live!!!

The Horrors – Something To Remember Me By Great band, great album, and an absolute banger.

The War On Drugs – Pain Guitar solos; hummable, glorious, soaring guitar solos.

The Killers – The Man This is the best song of the year (except LCD obviously); a groovalicious squelchy lyrical monster; it’s USDA certified lean!

Thee Oh Sees – Animated Violence The heaviest Thee Oh Sees (or whatever they’re calling themselves these days) have ever been; a giant slab of heavy sludge interspersed with bizarre guitar arpeggios.

Godspeed You! Black Emperor – Anthem for No State, Pt.III I consider myself lucky to be here at a time I can see Godspeed play live; they are truly peerless. This best track from their latest album comes across like an apocalyptic mariachi song, with strings, guitars, drums, building to a trademark cacophony before the subtle transition at 6:20 which carries you away; beautiful, mournful noise.

Neil Young – Captain Kennedy Not strictly new music, but from the unreleased ‘Hitchhiker’ album released earlier this year, this is Neil at his folky acoustic best.

Juju – And Play A Game A bizarre but wonderful song built upon one repetitive bass line, which literally has about a dozen genres stuffed in it; stick with it though, and from roughly 2 minutes in it is motorik gold.

Marilyn Manson – SAY10 Manson doing what Manson does best; that chorus is one of the hookiest things I’ve heard all year, and the guitars sound absolutely on point, just the right about of crunch.

St. Vincent – Smoking Section I think of this as Annie’s broadway showtune of sorts, like ‘A Man Needs A Maid’, but it’s more than that, it’s personal, mournful, and yes theatrical, but also has a wonderful send off.

Courtney Barnett, Kurt Vile – Fear Is Like a Forest Much as I struggle with Courtney’s vocal delivery, she does sound great here, and with Kurt layering on the Crazy Horse guitars, it’s just a great track.

Curtis Harding – Ghost Of You Smoky soul and grooves.

New Candys – Tempera Reverb?! Can we get anymore reverb?! Solid psych under 3 minutes!

Baxter Dury – Miami Perhaps the best bassline of the year, slinky and disgusting at the same time, with the lyrics to match depicting a grotesque character amped up to 11, but absolutely delicious.

Baltic Fleet – A la Mortal I have a penchant for crescendo focused instrumental ambient rock, which is exactly what this is.

Pete International Airport – Flowers Of Evil Languid grooves buried beneath ambient textures and Robert Levon Been’s (of BRMC fame) trademark sing/sneer, but transitions into a gentle and quite beautiful outro.

Pretty Lightning – The Rhythm Of Ooze With a distinct whiff of Archie Bronson Outfit, this takes a blues riff and pushes it to the max.

Boubacar Traore – Dis lui que je l’aime comme mon pays Absolutely fantastic acoustic blues from the legendary Malian bluesman; it’s the same progressions and structures but with a vital energy and magnificent instrumental interplay which is as rousing as it is impressive.