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antoine-roquentin · 5 years ago

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I think one of the major problems with the modern left is a focus on cultural analysis instead of economics. When I say culture I EXPLICITLY DON'T MEAN racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, and Indigenous rights/decolonization.

Stupidpol and their ilk are reactionaries and should be treated as such. What I'm talking about is the focus on things like analyzing TV shows or picking over the latest issues of the NYT op-ed column, the sort a caricatures you see on Chapo.

Zizek is emblematic of this syndrome. He's a theorist of ideology, a film critic, a Lacanian psychoanalyst and complete reactionary on gender and immigration issues, and he's widely considered to be one of preeminent Marxist scholars alive. And, and this is important, Zizek does fuck all actual economic material analysis. Mark Fisher, who was an excellent Marxist theorist, covers almost exactly the same ground from a different perspective, and you can repeat this across academia.

Inside academia the problem has gotten so bad that the best economic analysis is being carried out by the fucking post-humanists. Take, for example, Anna Tsing's excellent Supply Chains and the Human Condition. Tsing is a brilliant theorist but she spends most of her time writing about multi-species interactions between humans and mushrooms. Carbon Democracy, one of the best theories of the carbon economy ever written, is by a left-Foucaldian.

There are some exceptions to this, Andreas Malm's Carbon Capital is wonderful, Riot Strike Riot is great and I have to mention the group I call The Other Chicago School, Endnotes, whose infrequent analysis is a breath of fresh air. But Endnotes isn't particularly well read even inside the academy, which takes back outside the ivory tower in the dismal mess that is what passes for popular left "economics."

I want to go back to Occupy for a second because what happened there is indicative of the problem. Occupy, at least technically, actually had a theory of economics that went beyond "neoliberalism bad, welfare state good." And it's really not as bad as its critics have since accused it of being. Graeber's "the 1% meme" was supposed to be part of an MMT analysis of the ability of banks to create money out of nothing, see Richard A. Werner. The theory then goes with the ability to create money out of nothing the question becomes who should actually have that power. The 1% are the people who control that power and use that it to gain wealth and their wealth to gain power.

This is essentially what happened after 2008 and it relates to an entire analysis of the politics of debt and war that's captured really well in the last chapter of Debt, The First 5000 Years, drawing from Hudson's excellent Super Imperialism. Again, not bad, and not the disaster it became in Liberal hands. But note two things:

1, His work is intentionally detached from the production process- Graeber uses a value theory of labor about the social reproduction of human beings. That theory is really interesting and I'll leave a link to his It is Value that Brings Universes into Being here. But Graeber is an anthropologist, not an economist, and his recent work is mostly composed of a set of theories of bureaucracy.

And, don't get me wrong, I really like Utopia of Rules and Bullshit Jobs, and it's possible to build an economic theory out of them, but almost no one actually does. And this gets us back to my second point about Occupy and economics.

2, Not a single other person I have ever met, including people who were in Occupy, have ever actually heard the theory behind the 1%. Part of this has to do with Graeber’s rather admirable desire to not become an intellectual vanguardist. But, I cannot overemphasize how much of this is a result of the left's retreat into an analysis of consumerism instead of capitalism and its further insistence that the entire fucking global economy can be explained by chapters 1-3 of Capital and this just isn't a "read more theory" rant, it's not like reading the rest of Capital is going to help you here. But even that's better than what's actually happened, which is people reading Imperialism, the Highest Stage of Capitalism and the Communist Manifesto and trying to derive economic theory from that, or getting lost in a Gramscian or psychoanalytic miasma trying to explain why revolution didn't happen. But we can't keep fucking doing this.

If we do we're just going to keep getting stuck in endless fucking inane arguments, one of which is about which countries are Imperialist or not based on trying to read the minds of world leaders, and the other of which is a bunch of racists trying to argue that they're actually "class-first" Marxists and that if we don't say slurs and be mean to disabled people we're going to lose the "real working class," which is somehow composed only of construction workers banging steel bars.

So let's stop letting them do that. One of the reasons Supply Chains and the Human Condition is so great is that it describes how the performance of gender and racial roles creates the self super-exploitation at the heart of global capitalism. Race and gender cannot be ignored in favor of some kind of "class-first" faux-leftist bullshit. THEY ARE LITERALLY THE DRIVER OF CAPITAL ACCUMULATION.

Most of the global supply chain has been transformed into entrepreneurs and wannabe entrepreneurs (see the countless accounts of Chinese garment factory workers who dream of getting into the fashion industry and who attempt to supplement their meager income by setting up stalls in local marketplaces to sell watches and clothes).

The fact that global supply chains have reverted to the kind of small family firms that Marx and Engels thought would disappear is a MASSIVE problem for any kind of global workers movement, because it means that the normal wage relation that is supposed to form the basis of the proletariat isn't actually the governing social experience of a large swath of what should be the proletariat, either because they're the owners of small firms contracted by larger firms like Nike who would, in an older period of capitalism, have just been workers or because the people who work for those firms are incapable of actually demanding wage increases from the capitalists because they're separated by a layer from the firms who control real capital, and thus are essentially unable to make the kind of wage demands that would normally constitute class consciousness because the contractors they work for really don't have any money. These contractors are in no way independent.

Multinational corporations set everything from their buying prices to their labor conditions to what their workers say to lie to labor inspectors. The effect of replacing much of the proletariat with micro-entrepreneurs is devastating.

The class-for-itself that's supposed to serve as the basis of social revolution has decomposed entirely. Endnotes has a great analysis of how this happened covering more time, but the unified working class is dead. In its place have come a series of incoherent struggles: The Arab Spring, the Movement of the Squares, the current wave of revolutions and riots stretching from Sudan to Peru to Puerto Rico- all of them share an economic basis translated into demands on the state. We see housing struggles, anti-police riots, occupations, climate strikes, and a thousand other forms of struggle that don't seem to cohere into a traditional social revolution and WE HAVE NO ANSWER.

I don't have one either, but we're not going to get out of this mess by trying to read the tea leaves of the CCP or analyzing how Endgame is the ruling class inculcating us into accepting Malthusian Ecofascism.

I want to emphasize YOU DON'T NEED TO SHARE MY ECONOMIC ANALYSIS to develop one, I'm obviously wrong on a lot of things and so is everyone else. The point is that we need to start somewhere.

There are other benefits to reading economics stuff even if it can be boring sometimes, like being able to dunk on nerd shitlibs and reactionaries who do the "take Econ-101" meme by being able to prove that their entire discipline is bunk. Steve Keen's Debunking Economics is absolutely hilarious for this, he literally proves that perfect competition relies on the same math that you use to "prove" that the earth is flat.

Or learning that the notion that markets distribute goods optimally is based on the assumption that what is basically a form of fucking state socialism exists, and that the supply demand curve is fucking bullshit. Here's a page from Debunking Economics looking at the socialism claim, it fucking rules, and it's the result of the fact that neo-classical economics and central planning were developed together. Kantorovich and Koopmans shared a Nobel Prize.

But wait, there's more! We can PROVE that THE MARKET PLACE OF IDEAS DOESN'T EXIST. Do you have any idea how hard you can own libs with facts and logic if you can demonstrate that THE MARKET PLACE OF IDEAS DOESN'T EXIST?

But seriously, if you go outside of the Marxist tradition there are all sorts of fun and useful things you can find in post-Keyensian circles and so on and so forth. I'm a huge fan of Karen Ho's Liquidated, an Ethnography of Wall Street/Liquidated_%20An%20Ethnography%20of%20Wall%20Street%20-%20Karen%20Ho.pdf) which looks at how the people at banks and investment firms actually behave and, oh boy, is it bad news (they're literally incapable of making long-term decisions which is wonderful in the face of climate change).

Oh, and also, all of the bankers are essentially indoctrinated into thinking they're the smartest people in the world, so that's fun.

This may sound like I'm shitting on Marxism, and I sort of am, but there's Marxist stuff coming out that I absolutely love! @chuangcn is a good example of what I think the benchmark for leftist economics and historical analysis should be.

Chuang responded to the call put out by Endnotes to cut "The Red Thread of History," or essentially to stop fucking arguing about 1917, 1936, 1968 and so forth and look at material conditions instead of trying to find our favorite faction and accuse literally everyone else of betraying the revolution, and then imagining what we would have done in their shoes. The present is different from the past and we need to organize for this economic and social reality, not 1917's.

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Chuang produced an incredibly statically and sociologically detailed account of the Chinese socialist period in issue 1 and the transition to capitalism in the soon to be put online issue 2 that focuses on shifts in production and investment and shifts in China's class-structure and how urban workers, peasants, factory mangers, technicians, and cadre members reacted to those movements and shaped each others decisions and mobilizations. They largely avoid discussions of factional battles of the upper level of the CCP, which dominate liberal and communist accounts of the period and produce, in supposed communists from David Harvey to Ajit Singh, a Great Man theory of history.

Instead, they trace how strikes and peasant protests shaped the CCP's decision making and how the choices of people like Mao and Deng Xiaoping were limited by material conditions, in this case by their production bottleneck.

What's great about Chuang is that their work is so rich in sociological detail that you don't need to agree with them at all about what communism is and so on for their account to be useful, and they force us to think about the world from the perspective of competing classes bound by economic reality, instead of the black-and-white "good state/bad state," "good ruler/bad ruler," discourse that dominates our understanding of both imperialism and the global economy.

I'm just going to end this with a TL;DR: Cut the read thread of history and stop fucking arguing about 1917, use economic theory to dunk on Stupidpol and shitlibs. When you talk about "material conditions" talk about the production process, supply chains, capital movements and so on, not which states are good and bad (the bourgeoisie is a global class friends), recognize that strategies need to be built around current economic and social conditions, WHICH ARE INSEPARABLE FROM RACE AND GENDER, climate change is more complicated than the 100 companies meme (I only touched on this but please read Fossil Capital and Carbon Democracy), and in general try to learn more about different schools of economics and social theory, I swear reading something that wasn't written in 1848 isn't going to kill you.

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scifimagpie · 6 years ago

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Global Warming: Why The Winds of Winter May Never Come

This morning, I found myself penning a feisty screed about sequels, and I've been meaning to write an article about them for some time. Apparently, the moment has come.

I have a theory about why ASOIAF's main storyline is screwed up beyond repair. It's not unrelated to the issues of the Kingkiller Chronicles, which have also been all but abandoned by Patrick Rothfuss. As much as authors don't owe their fans instant gratification or satisfaction of every whim, offering a finishing date and moving that is a breach of etiquette and trust, especially since it's been going on for so many years. I'm no stranger to setting up sequels and struggling to finish them. No author is. But these books have gotten somewhat out of control, and after a few years of trying to discuss it, I think I can summarize the reasons why, both quickly and simply.

The what now? (No, really.)

If you've somehow been living under a rock or in a windowless void in some alternate dimension, A Song of Ice and Fire is the series by George R R Martin that's been adapted to a big-budget tv show by HBO. It's been a smash hit, especially for its controversy-courting topics and often blunt, insensitive approach to issues. It's basically historical fanfiction combining The War of the Roses (mostly as presented by Shakespeare), the Borgias of Renaissance Italy, Mongolian Huns circa Ghenghis Khan's reign, and Vikings, with protagonists plucked from other works of classic literature for spice, and absolutely shameless borrowing from Memory, Sorrow and Thorn's plots and themes (a series by author Tad Williams that features a fire priest, coming winter, undead creatures, nasty political conflict, and the reawakening of magic). (If you don't know those names, I recommend a wander through Wikipedia for the basics, because the history stuff is really cool. There's also somewhat inaccurate but entertaining and lush series about the Borgias, Vikings, and Mongolian rulers on Netflix. Shakespeare covered the whole War of the Roses, so you can listen to or watch readings of the plays on Youtube if you're wondering what those were about. There's no shame in reading notes for Shakespeare, and hearing all that intricate speech is easier than reading it sometimes. So now you know!) Oh, and there's some dragons, intriguing bits of Lovecraft/Robert E. Howard fanfiction that doesn't go anywhere, and nods to Celtic myth cycles that also don't really get used that much. Everyone else and their dog has covered the feminist and representation issues in the series, but this should give you a rough idea of what it's about or what it's like. He also kills way too many peasants in the series, which did not happen in mediaeval Europe, because a) they were civilians and b) peasants are an important resource in a non-industrial country, but I guess that's what it takes for an adequately upsetting body count. It has some strong points, like the way Martin manages to subvert tropes by exploring them very fully, and the disability representation is pretty good, in my opinion. It has tons of worldbuilding porn and description porn, but long-term readers of fantasy and pulp aren't going to find anything truly challenging here. Basically, it's fine. But it's not perfect, and it could be better - as I'll explain in a second. SO - be aware of the SPOILERS SPOILER SPOILERS referred to herein.

Why should we care?

The thing is, A Song of Ice and Fire about the Starks. There are other characters, but we meet them first, we are given cues to care about them, and we connect with them. We explore more of their perspectives than those of any other family, including the Targaryens and Lannisters. Ned Stark died in the first book, as we probably all know. However, that wasn't a dealbreaker - as his family got scattered to the winds, readers and Martin had a strong motivation to see them reunited. The reuniting a family theme is actually underused, but it worked in Fivel Goes West and it worked here. Eagerly devouring the books, we all hoped to see the Starks come back together, surviving their harsh circumstances (which are historically inaccurate as heck, by the way). BUT - in book 3, when the Red Wedding happened (killing eldest son Rob Stark, his mother, and his new wife - even though his mother returned as a scary undead lady), it all fell apart. Sure, it was a brilliantly unpredicted plot twist - but it messed up the emotional throughline.

Who do we care about, and why?

A land is made up of people. The history of a world is meaningless if it doesn't include individuals. By killing off so many Starks one by one - and by killing their direwolves, too - GRRM completely nuked his own emotional throughline. That's why books 4 and 5 start focusing on Noble #5 and Suitor #3, characters that we don't care about, and why they're such a mess. The books would benefit from focusing on non-noble characters, but classism fetishization is an important problem in fantasy as it is, and GRRM does little to remedy it. All the other families could be torn apart, but by killing too many of his real protagonists, he made the emotional throughline of the book completely collapse. I don't know if it can be fixed, and I think that's why The Winds of Winter just keeps failing to come out. He's trying to write his way out of a hole, but the fact remains that he killed the characters who gave us a reason to give a shit about the story. Someone might say "but the story is bigger than the Starks!" But that's the point - it isn't. They symbolise so many other families torn apart. There is no real hope in the series. It's equivalent to a romance novel where one of the protagonists gets killed halfway through (in a contemporary setting without magic or tech to bring them back) or a mystery where there's no solution.

What's wrong with that?

Artistic works usually set up an emotional contract with the reader, albeit an unspoken one: "I will create people and a journey for you to care about, and you will spend your hours reading my work--and in exchange, I will provide you some kind of satisfying conclusion, or at least finish what I set up." ASOIAF has broken its most important throughline, and the author has inadvertently sabotaged himself. Between that and the pressure of living up to what he's set up - because The Big Fight That Changes Everything is a risky creative choice at the best of times, actually - Martin has to fight himself to get it out. Hence the years of delay. But if an editor had been allowed to cut all those stupid and unemotionally interesting attempts (far too late in the series, I might add) to hook us into someone else to care about, and to mess with his stupid murder-fetish earlier, maybe the series could have been saved. Of course, I might be wrong, and we might see The Winds of Winter come out any month now. But it sure is hard, as a former fan, to watch the deadlines keep getting pushed. Because it's not just "the book isn't done yet" - it's that he's mentioned release dates, and they fall through over and over. Even if that's his right, it does suck to deal with. And personally, I just don't care anymore. In such times as these, I've gotten weary of endless dark and gritty tales with few redeeming features. Having outgrown Can Lit and the fetishes of literary fiction - more on that in my next post - I need more than chronically depressed murder-hobo protagonists. I need hope, and life, and a world outside the muggy, stifling confines of imaginary Western Europe. ***

Michelle Browne is a sci fi/fantasy writer. She lives in Lethbridge, AB with her partner-in-crime, housemate, and their cat. Her days revolve around freelance editing, knitting, jewelry, and nightmares, as well as social justice issues. She is currently working on the next books in her series, other people's manuscripts, and drinking as much tea as humanly possible. Catch up with Michelle's news on the mailing list. Her books are available on Amazon, and she is also active on Medium, Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Tumblr, and the original blog.

#asoiaf #hot take #winds of winter #game of thrones #patrick rothfuss #editor #writing

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lyfestile · 7 years ago

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In both music and manner, Quincy Jones has always registered — from afar, anyway — as smooth, sophisticated, and impeccably well-connected. (That’s what earning 28 Grammy awards and co-producing Michael Jackson’s biggest-selling albums will do.) But in person, the 84-year-old music-industry macher is far spikier and more complicated. “All I’ve ever done is tell the truth,” says Jones, seated on a couch in his palatial Bel Air home, and about to dish some outrageous gossip. “I’ve got nothing to be scared of, man.”

Currently in the midst of an extended victory lap ahead of his turning 85 in March — a Netflix documentary and a CBS special hosted by Oprah Winfrey are on the horizon — Jones, dressed in a loose sweater, dark slacks, and a jaunty scarf, talks like he has nothing to lose. He name-drops, he scolds, he praises, and he tells (and retells) stories about his very famous friends. Even when his words are harsh, he says them with an enveloping charm, frequently leaning over for fist bumps and to tap me on the knee. “The experiences I’ve had!” he says, shaking his head in wonder. “You almost can’t believe it.”

You worked with Michael Jackson more than anyone he wasn’t related to. What’s something people don’t understand about him? I hate to get into this publicly, but Michael stole a lot of stuff. He stole a lot of songs. [Donna Summer’s] “State of IndependenceOriginally written by Vangelis and longtime Yes front man Jon Anderson, “State of Independence” was recorded by Donna Summer in 1982. Jones produced Summer’s version, Michael Jackson helped out on backing vocals, and the song’s central riff does sound awfully similar (albeit faster) to the iconic bass riff on Jackson’s hit single “Billie Jean.” It should also be noted that, last year, Jones won a lawsuit over a royalties dispute against Jackson’s estate.” and “Billie Jean.” The notes don’t lie, man. He was as Machiavellian as they come.

How so? Greedy, man. Greedy. “Don’t Stop ’Til You Get Enough” — Greg Phillinganes wrote the c sectionPhillinganes, an in-demand studio keyboardist, played on a handful of Jackson-Jones collaborations, including the 1979 album Off the Wall, from which “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough” comes.. Michael should’ve given him 10 percent of the song. Wouldn’t do it.

What about outside of music? What’s misunderstood about Michael? I used to kill him about the plastic surgery, man. He’d always justify it and say it was because of some disease he had. Bullshit.

How much were his problems wrapped up with fame? You mean with the way he looked? He had a problem with his looks because his father told him he was ugly and abused himJackson described being abused by his father Joe in a 1993 interview with Oprah, as well as in a 2003 interview with Martin Bashir. “It was really bad,” he recalled during the latter.. What do you expect?

It’s such a strange juxtaposition — how Michael’s music was so joyous, but his life just seems sadder and more odd as time goes by. Yes, but at the end Michael’s problem was PropofolIn 2009, not long after Jackson’s death, the Los Angeles County coroner announced that the singer’s death was caused by “acute propofol intoxication.” Jackson’s doctor, Conrad Murray, had been prescribing the powerful sedative, which Jackson called his “milk,” to help with the singer’s insomnia. In 2011, Murray was found guilty of involuntary manslaughter in Jackson’s death., and that problem affects everyone — doesn’t matter if you’re famous. Big Pharma making OxyContin and all that shit is a serious thing. I was around the White House for eight years with the Clintons, and I’d learn about how much influence Big Pharma has. It’s no joke. What’s your sign, man?

Pisces. Me too. It’s a great sign.

You just mentioned the Clintons, who are friends of yours. Why is there still such visceral dislike of them? What are other people not seeing in Hillary, for example, that you see? It’s because there’s a side of her — when you keep secrets, they backfire.

Like what secrets? This is something else I shouldn’t be talking about.

You sure seem to know a lot. I know too much, man.

What’s something you wish you didn’t know? Who killed Kennedy.

Who did it? [Chicago mobster Sam] GiancanaChicago gangster Sam Giancana is a well-known name among Kennedy conspiracists, both for his alleged help in delivering Illinois votes for Kennedy in the 1960 presidential election and the 1963 assassination of the president. The latter theory largely stems from Giancana’s murder in 1975, not long before he was supposed to testify before a Senate committee investigating collusion between the mob and the CIA.. The connection was there between Sinatra and the Mafia and Kennedy. Joe Kennedy — he was a bad man — he came to Frank to have him talk to Giancana about getting votes.

I’ve heard this theory before, that the mob helped win Illinois for Kennedy in 1960. We shouldn’t talk about this publicly. Where you from?

Toronto. I was at the Massey Hall showIn May 1953, jazz geniuses Charlie Parker, Bud Powell, Charles Mingus, Max Roach, and Dizzy Gillespie were recorded — for the first and last time — together in concert at Toronto’s Massey Hall. The resulting live album, Jazz at Massey Hall, is rightly considered a classic..

Really? The Charlie Parker concert with Mingus and those guys? Yeah, man. I saw the contract after. The whole band made $1,100. I’ll never forget that. At the time it was just another gig. It wasn’t historical. Like with Woodstock, Tito Puente told me he wanted to go out to that gig. Those festivals ain’t my thing. Elon Musk keeps trying to get me to go to Burning Man. No thank you. But who knew what Woodstock would turn out to be? Jimi Hendrix was out there fucking up the national anthem.

Wasn’t Hendrix supposed to play on Gula Matari? He was supposed to play on my albumApparently, Hendrix was supposed to lend guitar work to Jones’s 1970 album Gula Matari, which arrived at a time when the guitarist was expanding his musical vocabulary beyond rock and blues and into jazz and funk. Sadly, he didn’t get far, dying of asphyxiation in September of that same year. and he chickened out. He was nervous to play with Toots Thielemans, Herbie Hancock, Hubert Laws, Roland Kirk — those are some scary motherfuckers. Toots was one of the greatest soloists that ever fucking lived. The cats on my records were the baddest cats in the world and Hendrix didn’t want to play with them.

What’d you think when you first heard rock music? Rock ain’t nothing but a white version of rhythm and blues, motherfucker. You know, I met Paul McCartney when he was 21.

What were your first impressions of the Beatles? That they were the worst musicians in the world. They were no-playing motherfuckers. Paul was the worst bass player I ever heard. And Ringo? Don’t even talk about it. I remember once we were in the studio with George Martin, and RingoJones arranged a version of “Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing” for Starr’s 1970 solo debut album Sentimental Journey, which was produced by the Beatles’ frequent collaborator George Martin. The song, and album, are more than a bit gloopy. had taken three hours for a four-bar thing he was trying to fix on a song. He couldn’t get it. We said, “Mate, why don’t you get some lager and lime, some shepherd’s pie, and take an hour-and-a-half and relax a little bit.” So he did, and we called Ronnie Verrell, a jazz drummer. Ronnie came in for 15 minutes and tore it up. Ringo comes back and says, “George, can you play it back for me one more time?” So George did, and Ringo says, “That didn’t sound so bad.” And I said, “Yeah, motherfucker because it ain’t you.” Great guy, though.

Were there any rock musicians you thought were good? I used to like Clapton’s band. What were they called?

Cream. Yeah, they could play. But you know who sings and plays just like Hendrix?

Who? Paul AllenThe Microsoft co-founder and multibillionaire has a collection of yachts and guitars to rival the world’s finest, both of which he apparently makes good use of..

Stop it. The Microsoft guy? Yeah, man. I went on a trip on his yacht, and he had David Crosby, Joe Walsh, Sean Lennon — all those crazy motherfuckers. Then on the last two days, Stevie Wonder came on with his band and made Paul come up and play with him — he’s good, man.

You hang out in these elite social circles and doing good has always been important to you, but are you seeing as much concern for the poor as you’d like from the ultrarich? No. The rich aren’t doing enough. They don’t fucking care. I came from the street, and I care about these kids who don’t have enough because I feel I’m one of ’em. These other people don’t know what it feels like to be poor, so they don’t care.

Are we in a better place as a country than we were when you started doing humanitarian work 50 years ago? No. We’re the worst we’ve ever been, but that’s why we’re seeing people try and fix it. Feminism: Women are saying they’re not going to take it anymore. Racism: People are fighting it. God is pushing the bad in our face to make people fight back.

We’ve obviously been learning more lately about just how corrosive the entertainment industry can be for women. As someone who’s worked in that business at the highest levels for so many years, do all the recent revelations come as a surprise? No, man. Women had to put up with fucked-up shit. Women and brothers — we’re both dealing with the glass ceiling.

But what about the alleged behavior of a friend of yours like Bill Cosby? Is it hard to square what he’s been accused of with the person you know? It was all of them. Brett Ratner. [Harvey] Weinstein. Weinstein — he’s a jive motherfucker. Wouldn’t return my five calls. A bully.

What about Cosby, though? What about it?

Were the allegations a surprise to you? We can’t talk about this in public, man.

I’m sorry to jump around — Be a Pisces. Jam.

If you could snap your fingers and fix one problem in the country, what would it be? Racism. I’ve been watching it a long time — the ’30s to now. We’ve come a long way but we’ve got a long way to go. The South has always been fucked up, but you know where you stand. The racism in the North is disguised. You never know where you stand. That’s why what’s happening now is good, because people are saying they are racists who didn’t used to say it. Now we know.

What’s stirred everything up? Is it all about Trumpism? It’s Trump and uneducated rednecks. Trump is just telling them what they want to hear. I used to hang out with him. He’s a crazy motherfucker. Limited mentally — a megalomaniac, narcissistic. I can’t stand him. I used to date Ivanka, you know.

Wait, really? Yes, sir. Twelve years ago. Tommy Hilfiger, who was working with my daughter KidadaA former model and current designer, Kidada is the daughter of Jones and his ex-wife Peggy Lipton. Jones’s other daughter with Lipton is the actress Rashida Jones. Jones has five other children, with four other women., said, “Ivanka wants to have dinner with you.” I said, “No problem. She’s a fine motherfucker.” She had the most beautiful legs I ever saw in my life. Wrong father, though.

Would your friend Oprah be a good president? I don’t think she should run. She doesn’t have the chops for it. If you haven’t been governor of a state or the CEO of a company or a military general, you don’t know how to lead people.

She is the CEO of a company. A symphony conductor knows more about how to lead than most businesspeople — more than Trump does. He doesn’t know shit. Someone who knows about real leadership wouldn’t have as many people against him as he does. He’s a fucking idiot.

Is Hollywood as bad with race as the rest of the country? I know that when you started scoring films, you’d hear producers say things like they didn’t want a “bluesy” score, which was clearly code-speak. Are you still encountering that kind of racism? It’s still fucked up. 1964, when I was in Vegas, there were places I wasn’t supposed to go because I was black, but Frank [Sinatra] fixed that for me. It takes individual efforts like that to change things. It takes white people to say to other white people, “Do you really want to live as a racist? Is that really what you believe?” But every place is different. When I go to Dublin, Bono makes me stay at his castle because Ireland is so racist. Bono’s my brother, man. He named his son after me.

Is U2 still making good music? [Shakes head.]

Why not? I don’t know. I love Bono with all my heart, but there’s too much pressure on the band. He’s doing good work all over the world. Working with him and Bob Geldof on debt reliefJones has a truly admirable record of humanitarian and philanthropic work, going back to his support of Dr. Martin Luther King in the early 1960s. In 1999, Jones, U2 lead singer Bono, and musician-activist Bob Geldof (who spearheaded 1985’s Live Aid charity concerts), traveled to the Vatican to meet with Pope John Paul II, hoping to gain his support in their effort to reduce third-world debt. was one of the greatest things I ever did. It’s up there with “We Are the WorldA charity single written by Lionel Richie and Michael Jackson and co-produced by Quincy Jones, “We Are the World” featured a who’s who of 1980s American pop and rock stars, a collection dubbed USA for Africa..”

There’s a small anecdote in your memoir about how the rock musicians who’d been asked to sing on “We Are the World” were griping about the song. Is there more to that story? It wasn’t the rockers. It was Cyndi Lauper. She had a manager come over to me and say, “The rockers don’t like the song.” I know how that shit works. We went to see Springsteen, Hall & Oates, Billy Joel, and all those cats and they said, “We love the song.” So I said [to Lauper], “Okay, you can just get your shit over with and leave.” And she was fucking up every take because her necklace or bracelet was rattling in the microphone. It was just her that had a problem.

What’s something you’ve worked on that should’ve been bigger? What the fuck are you talking about? I’ve never had that problem. They were all big.

How about a musician who deserved more acclaim? Come on, man. The Brothers Johnson. James Ingram. Tevin Campbell. Every one of them went straight through the roof.

From a strictly musical perspective, what have you done that you’re most proud of? That anything I can feel, I can notate musically. Not many people can do that. I can make a band play like a singer sings. That’s what arranging is, and it’s a great gift. I wouldn’t trade it for shit.

A few years back there was a quote you supposedly gave — I couldn’t find the source of it, so maybe it’s apocryphal — where you dismissed rap as being a bunch of four-bar loops. Is that an opinion you stand by? That’s true about rap, that it’s the same phrase over and over and over again. The ear has to have the melody groomed for it; you have to keep the ear candy going because the mind turns off when the music doesn’t change. Music is strange that way. You’ve got to keep the ear busy.

Is there an example from the work you did, maybe with Michael, which illustrates what you’re talking about? Yeah, the best example of me trying to feed the musical principles of the past — I’m talking about bebop — is “Baby Be Mine.” [Hums the song’s melody.] That’s Coltrane done in a pop song. Getting the young kids to hear bebop is what I’m talking about. Jazz is at the top of the hierarchy of music because the musicians learned everything they could about music. Every time I used to see Coltrane he’d have Nicolas Slonimsky’s book.

Yeah, he was famously obsessed with the Thesaurus of Scales and Melodic Patterns. That’s the one you’re talking about, right? That’s right. You’re bringing up all the good subjects now! Everything that Coltrane ever played was in that thesaurus. In fact, right near the front of that book, there’s a 12-tone example — it’s “Giant Steps.”Everyone thinks Coltrane wrote that, he didn’t. It’s Slonimsky. That book started all the jazz guys improvising in 12-tone. Coltrane carried that book around till the pages fell off.

When Coltrane started to go far out with the music — “Giant Steps.”

Even further out, though, like on Ascension — You can’t get further out than 12-tone, and “Giant Steps” is 12-tone.

But when he was playing atonally — No, no, no. Even that was heavily influenced by Alban Berg — that’s as far out as you can get.

Do you hear the spirit of jazz in pop today? No. People gave it up to chase money. When you go after Cîroc vodka and Phat FarmCîroc is the alcohol brand owned by Diddy. Phat Farm was the fashion label founded by hip-hop impresario Russell Simmons in 1992. Simmons sold the company in 2004. and all that shit, God walks out of the room. I have never in my life made music for money or fame. Not even ThrillerJones may not have worked on Thrillerfor money, but co-producing the album (with Jackson) presumably made him a ton of it: The 1982 album is widely reported to be the biggest-selling LP of all time, having sold somewhere north of 66 million copies.. No way. God walks out of the room when you’re thinking about money. You could spend a million dollars on a piano part and it won’t make you a million dollars back. That’s just not how it works.

Is there innovation happening in modern pop music? Hell no. It’s just loops, beats, rhymes and hooks. What is there for me to learn from that? There ain’t no fucking songs. The song is the power; the singer is the messenger. The greatest singer in the world cannot save a bad song. I learned that 50 years ago, and it’s the single greatest lesson I ever learned as a producer. If you don’t have a great song, it doesn’t matter what else you put around it.

What was your greatest musical innovation? Everything I’ve done.

Everything you’ve done was innovative? Everything was something to be proud of — absolutely. It’s been an amazing contrast of genres. Since I was very young, I’ve played all kinds of music: bar mitzvah music, Sousa marches, strip-club music, jazz, pop. Everything. I didn’t have to learn a thing to do Michael Jackson.

What would account for the songs being less good than they used to be? The mentality of the people making the music. Producers now are ignoring all the musical principles of the previous generations. It’s a joke. That’s not the way it works: You’re supposed to use everything from the past. If you know where you come from, it’s easier to get where you’re going. You need to understand music to touch people and become the soundtrack to their lives. Can I tell you one of the greatest moments in my life?

Of course. It was the first time they celebrated Dr. King’s birthday in Washington, D.C., and Stevie Wonder was in charge and asked me to be musical director. After the performance, we went to a reception, and three ladies came over: The older lady had Sinatra at the Sands, I arranged that; her daughter had my album The Dude; and then thatlady’s daughter had Thriller. Three generations of women said those were their favorite records. That touched me so much.

I’m trying to isolate what you specifically believe the problem with modern pop is. It’s the lack of formal musical knowledge on the part of the musicians? Yes! And they don’t even care they don’t have it.

Well, who’s doing good work? Bruno Mars. Chance the Rapper. Kendrick Lamar. I like where Kendrick’s mind is. He’s grounded. Chance, too. And the Ed Sheeran record is great. Sam Smith — he’s so open about being gay. I love it. Mark Ronson is someone who knows how to produce.

Putting aside the quality of contemporary songs, are there any technical or sonic production techniques that feel fresh? No. There ain’t nothing new. The producers are lazy and greedy.

How does that laziness manifest itself? Listen to the music — these guys don’t know what they’re doing. You’ve got to respect the gift God gave you by learning your craft.

Are you as down on the state of film scoring as you are on pop? It’s not good. Everybody’s lazy. Alexandre DesplatThe French film composer won an Oscar for his score for 2015’s The Grand Budapest Hotel and his been nominated an additional eight times. — he’s good. He’s my brother. He was influenced by my scores.

Again, when you say film composers are lazy, what does that mean, exactly, in this context? It means they’re not going back and listening to what Bernard Herrmann did.

Do you see a future for the music business? There isn’t a music business anymore! If these people had paid attention to Shawn Fanning 20 years ago, we wouldn’t be in this mess. But the music business is still too full of these old-school bean counters. You can’t be like that. You can’t be one of these back-in-my-day people.

You’re talking about business not music, but, and I mean this respectfully, don’t some of your thoughts about music fall under the category of “back in my day”? Musical principles exist, man. Musicians today can’t go all the way with the music because they haven’t done their homework with the left brain. Music is emotion and science. You don’t have to practice emotion because that comes naturally. Technique is different. If you can’t get your finger between three and four and seven and eight on a piano, you can’t play. You can only get so far without technique. People limit themselves musically, man. Do these musicians know tango? Macumba? Yoruba music? Samba? Bossa nova? Salsa? Cha-cha?

Maybe not the cha-cha. [Marlon] BrandoThe actor and Jones were longtime friends. During a down period in Jones’s life, he spent time on the island in Tahiti which Brando owned. The two called each other Leroy, owing to a story recounted extremely well (one among many) in this recent GQ profile. used to go cha-cha dancing with us. He could dance his ass off. He was the most charming motherfucker you ever met. He’d fuck anything. Anything! He’d fuck a mailbox. James Baldwin. Richard Pryor. Marvin Gaye.

He slept with them? How do you know that? [Frowns.] Come on, man. He did not give a fuck! You like Brazilian music?

Yeah, but I don’t know much beyond Jorge Ben and Gilberto Gil. Gilberto Gil and Caetano Veloso are the kings! You know, I visit the favelas every year. Those motherfuckers have a hard life. They’re tough, though. You think our shit in America’s bad? It’s worse there.

I read that as a young man you used to carry around a .32. Yeah.

Did you ever fire it? Yeah.

At what? [Grins.] Just practicin’.

Okay, let me ask you a left-field question. In your memoir, there’s a section where you talk about — Being a dog?

That’s not what I was thinking of, but yeah, that’s in there. I was thinking of a section where you describe having a nervous breakdown not long after Thriller. You talk so often about your ups — I’m wondering if maybe you can talk about one of your downs. What happened was that I was a producer on The Color Purple. Spielberg and me are still great friends, man. He’s a great fucking guy. I loved working with him.

Yep, but what happened on The Color Purple that caused your breakdown? What happened was that I was a producer on that movie and everybody went on vacation after we finished filming — everybody except me. I had to stay home and write an hour and 55 minutes of music for the movie. I was so fucking tired from doing that, I couldn’t see. I put too much on my plate and it took its toll. You learn from your mistakes and I learned I couldn’t do that again.

What’s the last mistake you learned from? My last record [2010’s Q: Soul Bossa Nostra]. I was not in favor of doing it, but the rappers wanted to record something as a tribute to me, where they’d do versions of songs that I’d done over my career. I said to them, “Look, you got to make the music better than we did on the originals.” That didn’t happen. T-Pain, man, he didn’t pay attention to the details.

What’s something positive you’ve been feeling about music lately? Understanding where it comes from. It’s fascinating. I was on a trip with Paul Allen a few years ago, and I went to the bathroom and there were maps on the wall of how the Earth looked a million-and-a-half years ago. Off the coast of South Africa, where Durban is, was the coast of China. The people had to be mixing, and you hear it in the music — in the drums from both places. There are African qualities to Chinese music, Japanese music, too, with the Kodo drumming. It all comes from Africa. It’s a heavy thing to think about.

You’re about to turn 85. Are you afraid of the end? No.

What do you think happens when you pass? You’re just gone.

Are you religious? No, man. I know too much about it. I knew Romano Mussolini, the jazz piano player, the son of Benito Mussolini. We used to jam all night. And he’d tell me about where the Catholics were coming from. The Catholics have a religion based on fear, smoke, and murder. And the biggest gimmick in the world is confession: “You tell me what you did wrong and it’ll be okay.” Come on. And almost everywhere you go in the world, the biggest structures are the Catholic churches. It’s money, man. It’s fucked up.

On the subject of money, I have a crass question. You spent the first half of your career working in jazz, which isn’t especially lucrative. When did you start to make serious money? When I started producing after Lesley Gore. I was the first black vice-president at a record label [Mercury], which was great — except that meant they didn’t pay me for producing herJones had his first major pop successes — including 1963’s “It’s My Party” — producing a teenaged Lesley Gore for the Mercury label, where Jones was named a vice-president in 1964.. You know how they do; you know your country. But after that, in the ’70s, when I started producing for other artists, and then with Michael of course, that made me a lot of money. And big money came from TV producing — The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, that was huge for me. Mad TV was on for 14 years. That syndication money is great, man.

How much did your upbringing — the difficulties with your mother and growing up in real povertyAs recounted in his 2002 autobiography, Q, Jones’s youth in Chicago and Seattle was one of almost unimaginable physical and emotional trauma. In addition to facing poverty, he was stabbed in the hand by a gang member as a child, and frequently witnessed his mother’s extreme and frightening mental instability. — affect how you perceive success? Of course it affected it. I appreciate the shit I have because I know what it’s like to have nothing.

What about having a fractured family? How did that change you? Same as with money, man. I appreciate what I got.

How often do you think about your mother? All the time. She died in a mental home. Brilliant lady, but she never got the help she needed. Her dementia praecox could’ve been cured with vitamin B, but she couldn’t get it because she was black.

When you think about her now, what comes to mind? That I wish I could’ve been closer to her. What happened to her — for kids, that’s a bitch.

What’s the most ambitious thing you have left to do? Qwest TVQwest TV is a subscription streaming service mostly dedicated to footage of jazz performances and documentaries. It’s still in beta.. Everybody is excited about it. It’s going to be a musical Netflix. It’s the best music from every genre around the world. So if kids want to hear something great, it’ll be right there for them. I can’t believe I still get to be involved in things like this. I stopped drinking two years ago and I feel like I’m 19 years old. I’ve never been so creative. I can’t tell you, man — what a life!

This interview has been edited and condensed from two conversations.

#in conversation #quincy jones #music #vulture homepage lede

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writingsofmyimagination · 8 years ago

Text

Scorpio |6|

Summary: How will The Joker deal with a woman with a mind as deadly and criminal as his own?

Jared Leto Joker x Reader

Warnings:Smut (blowjob, slight exhibitionism) BDSM themes.

I wrote this about this series about a year and a half ago. I have slightly updated and edited as I intend to do with all the other parts :)

ENJOY :) Comment, Reblog :)

Other Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 Dylan’s POV | COMPLETE

You emerged at the top of the stairs to a tranquil room compared to the buzz of downstairs; it was large with seating around the outside with several little tables. The decor was all pine and varnished, the atmosphere was soft with the relaxing music playing at low volume in the background. The lighting was dimmed; you can imagine this room is just what you need when your night at the club was winding down. In the middle of the room was a set table with two chairs, he motioned you to sit and he accompanied. As soon as you were seated and settled a guy promptly came out of the backroom and took your drinks order. You ordered a Cosmo and The Joker whisky.

“What will it be doll?” he asked when the tuxedoed waiter had returned.

“You can have anything” you doubted that but you asked for a classic Lasagne with garlic bread, J of course went for a steak. As soon as the waiter had left the room J broke the silence

“Now I want to play a game” he smiled

“I’m going to say my theory based on my observations as to what sort of life has brought you here and if I’m right you have to tell me details Deal?”

“What if you’re wrong” you challenged.

“I’m never wrong doll face” He said seriously but with a smile. You threw him a look to continue.

Challenge accepted

“You’ve hid yourself away and buried yourself among technology and come to master it” you smiled as he continued

“This tells me as a child you were probably used to being alone or even ignored with only technology to keep you sane. I’d say you’re parents had no time for you and as you got older you used the skills their neglect forced you to learn to probably destroy them. This upbringing clearly left you to have little or no value for human life and generally lack human connections and emotions. You were gifted with beauty so it was never hard for you to get what you wanted, you mastered the art of manipulation; but you always ended up back in the shadows where you feel you have the most power” He was looking at you with such a smug look which you wish you could smack right off his face but he wasn’t wrong.

You felt a pang in your heart that someone could just tell this about you.

“Am I really that transparent” you asked, concern growing steadily across your face.

“No doll but I know a damaged soul when I see one. He gently stroked you cheek. He is the king of manipulation after all and he does thrive on the power of emotions and the fear and uncertainty that he can cause in his victims.

“So care to divulge princess?” A deals a deal, you took a large sip of your drink.

“My mother died during childbirth, something my father never forgave me for. He spent as little time near me as he possibly could. I had a nanny and then a tutor who home schooled me. My father was a high flyer at a data protection and Security Company, he brought a lot of work home with him; there was always computer and files about the house. I was left to my own devices, I had no friends, no social life and so when I wasn’t avoiding my father’s temper I made one for myself online. It’s amazing what I learned from my father’s work when he was out. As I grew up I grew angry and became much more disassociated from life. I wanted out and wanted to make my father pay” His eyes were intently listening.

“Well, what did you do?” he asked

“I framed him for mass extortion from his company and bankrupt the shit out of him and took off” you felt an evil smirk grace your own face.

“Love the irony princess” he smirked. The food soon arrived and you both hardly spoke until there was nothing left on your plates, the food was delicious. The plates were cleared and when more drinks arrived he stood

“Follow me” And headed to another staircase, you briskly followed.

You emerged on a balcony overseeing the main floor below. The balcony had a metal safety bar running across the top of it and there was also a small ledge which you walked over and put your drink on.

“What do you see when looking down?” he asked. You leaned forward slightly to look at the intoxicated herd of people below and pondered for a moment.

“People who want to forget about their stresses and escape negative emotions of their lives” you answered unsure of where this was going. He stepped close behind you and trapped me as he placed both of his hands either side of you on the hand rails

“Desire” he whispered to you bringing the skin of his cheek to yours which sent electricity through your skin awakening your own desire.

“Everyone including people like you and I who have such limited emotions all are controlled and act according to desire” He leaned forward slightly to join you in looking over the barrier and pressing his body harder into you.

“The desire to forget their life for a few hours, the desire to fit in and be part of something bigger than themselves so they do not have to accept how small they really are. The desire to have control” He started slowly pulling the long side of my dress up as he grabbed me round your waist. You closed your eyes and inhaled as his cold hands explored your skin. You remembered your gun and pushed his hand away letting the dress fall back down. He pulled you hard into him from around my stomach

“Don’t deny me kitten” he snarled.

“People like you and I who see the world for what it really is thrive of the desires of others” He leaned in again and whispered

“Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes power” He said this so seductively before gently nipping at your neck.

“I don’t normally play well with others but you baby I don’t want to leave alone”

You turned around to face him

“So don’t” You pulled him into a kiss, his tongue meeting yours adding fuel to the fire of desire burning within you. You felt his cock twitch in his trousers. You pushed him away and pulled at his belt and scrambled it undone; he exercises such control you was shocked he didn’t stop you. You took advantage and got down on your knees and freed his erection from his trousers. He gasped as you took his length into your mouth. As you started to flick your tongue across his tip he grabbed the back of your hair and began guiding your head up and down. He growled as you moved faster.

“That’s enough baby” he groaned as he pulled away and grabbed your arm and pulled you up. In seconds you were span round and slammed against the ledge before he lifted you up up onto it. You pulled his face to you. He ran his hand up your leg and over the holster

Shit

“Baby’s packing heat” he smirked as he grabbed the gun and launched it on the floor and proceeded dragging his hand further up your leg

“No underwear for me to take off again kitten? I am spoilt” He lifted you up again just enough to lower you onto himself; you gasped and grabbed the metal bars to support your weight. He didn’t waste no time thrusting up into you like a starved man. Throwing your head back you grabbed him and pulled the back of his hair causing him to growl.

“Don’t stop” you cried. He lent into your neck and bit you so hard you bit your own lip and made it bleed. You just couldn’t hold off any more as your muscles contracted tight around him sending shock waves of pleasure through your body. He groaned as he put your down

“Now why don’t you finish showing daddy how good you’re pretty little mouth is” you slid of the ledge, careful not to allow you legs to buckle under you. He took your head in his hands and gently kissed you before lightly biting your bottom lip and softly sucked the wound. You offered a weak smile and he let out a small purr as you got to your knees. He grabbed your hair again and thrust himself into the back of your throat so far it made you gag. He loosened his grip on my hair and let you have free reign over him. You tightened your mouth grip and started bobbing your head at increasing speed. He threw his head back, his breathing grew heavy and started gently thrusting in rhythm with your movement. His hips became slightly erratic. Knowing he was close you gripped the back of his shaft causing him to purr and grip your head tightly again as he released into you.

Before you could pull away to spit he pulled away and lifted my chin

“Now swallow daddy down” He ordered, not having much choice you did. He helped you up and you rushed to down your drink to wash away the taste as he sorted himself out. He walked over to your gun and picked it up, walked over to you ran the cold barrel up your inner thigh and placed it back into it’s holster. He lifted your chin again but this time gently kissed your cheek

“Be a good princess and wait in the car, daddy has some business to finish up, I won’t be long”

#joker #the joker #joker smut #jared leto joker #smut #DC comics #joker x reader

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renegaderoots · 7 years ago

Photo

BASIC INFORMATION

♚┋FULL NAME: Theodor De Vries ♚┋PRONUNCIATION: Theo-dor (German pronunciation) ♚┋NICKNAME(S): Teddy, Theo ♚┋TITLE: The Gargoyle ♚┋OCCUPATION: shop owner / contract killer ♚┋~AGE: 36 ♚┋DATE OF BIRTH: 15 August ♚┋GENDER: Cisgender ♚┋PRONOUNS: He/Him/his ♚┋ORIENTATION: Homoromantic Demisexual ♚┋NATIONALITY: German ♚┋RELIGION: the best to describe it would be...a religious atheist? ♚┋SPECIES: Human ♚┋AFFILIATION: technically, his son. Realistically, the Morrison family. ♚┋GENERATION: third ♚┋THREAT LEVEL: for somebody born to be a vicious killer willing to fight dirty, Espen’s threat level is low. He isn’t aggressive or malicious, nor does he take any pleasure in violence.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

♚┋FACE CLAIM: André Hamann / Chris Hemsworth ♚┋EYE COLOUR: Green ♚┋HAIR COLOUR: dark blonde ♚┋DOMINANT HAND: ambidextrous ♚┋HEIGHT: 184 centimeters or 6′0 ♚┋WEIGHT: 158 lbs ♚┋TATTOOS: Just...too many to possibly list. Think up every imaginable gothic cliché in existence and you’ll probably find it somewhere on his body - along with a cupcake on his left butt cheek because he’s an idiot. ♚┋SCARS: predominantly burn scars. ♚┋PIERCINGS: snakebites ♚┋GLASSES: in theory, yes, but the lazy bastard doesn’t even know how to put on two matching socks so, like, what do you expect here?

PSYCHOLOGY INFORMATION

♚┋JUNG TYPE: ISTP ♚┋SUBTYPE: Logical ♚┋ENNEATYPE: 7w8 ♚┋MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral ♚┋TEMPERAMENT: Sanguine/Choleric ♚┋SCHEMA: VH, SI, NP ♚┋INTELLIGENCE TYPE: Visual-Spatial, Bodily-Kinesthetic, Logical-mathematical ♚┋~IQ: 132 ♚┋NEUROTYPE: Unsure as of yet. ♚┋AT RISK? Well, I mean, solely based on environmental factors, there’d be ample reason to believe he may be at risk.

BACKGROUND INFORMATION

♚┋HOMETOWN: Cologne, Germany ♚┋CURRENT: Dublin, Ireland ♚┋LANGUAGE(S): German (mother tongue), Dutch (native speaker level), Irish (lower-intermediate level) ♚┋SOCIAL CLASS: upper middle class ♚┋DEGREE: Master’s degree ♚┋SUBJECT(S): Forensic nursing ♚┋PARENT #1: Gerrit De Vries, deceased ♚┋PARENT #2: Beatrice De Vries neé Hoffmann, deceased ♚┋SIBLING(S): Lena De Vries, deceased, Alexander De Vries, deceased ♚┋MAIN SHIP: Espen/Sam (bromance) ♚┋RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single ♚┋CHILDREN: Oliver De Vries, alive, three years ♚┋PET(S): none ♚┋ADOPTED? Yes. After his parents’ death, Espen was adopted by his paternal grandfather. ♚┋RAP SHEET? Nothing yet. ♚┋PRISON TIME? Not yet.

VICES / HABITS

♚┋SMOKES? like a chimney. ♚┋DRINKS? Yes. ♚┋DOES DRUGS? Used to, yes. Stimulants (i.e. ecstasy) and hallucinogens like LSD ♚┋IS VIOLENT? Not at all, ironically enough. This is so hard to believe because Espen’s family consisted primarily of criminals, including former intelligence agents, one might be quick to falsely assume that their natures - violent, predominantly - are irrevocably ingrained in his being; but this couldn’t be further from the truth. If at all necessary, Espen will only react defensively, thus defending himself physically, when there’s no other way. ♚┋HAS AN ADDICTION? Not anymore. ♚┋IS SELF-DESTRUCTIVE? Yes. ♚┋HABITS: perpetually confused about what clothes are - likes to walk around his flat completely nude. Unsurprisingly, he also sleeps without any clothes on. Cannot sit on chairs like normal people. Hello bad blood circulation. ♚┋HOBBIES: sewing, alternative fashion, taxidermy, reading (mostly Gothic literature because he’s extra like that), taking care of baby bats, vblogging, weaponry, medieval history, travelling around the world to visit castles, tarot card reading, make up (both theater and alternative), book reviews on youtube, gaming ♚┋TICS: grunting (especially when stressed or extremely anxious. It’s happened before that that’s all he does while he completely shuts down normal communication.) ♚┋OBSESSION(S): none ♚┋COMPULSION(S): has to arrange food a certain way on his plate lest he won’t eat it

MISCELLANEOUS INFORMATION

♚┋HOUSE: Gryffindor ♚┋VICE: Wrath ♚┋VIRTUE: Temperance ♚┋ELEMENT: Fire ♚┋ANGEL: Uriel ♚┋MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: Vampire ♚┋ANIMAL: black cat ♚┋MUTATION: time manipulation ♚┋WOULD SURVIVE POST-APOC? No. Sadly, he has morals.

STATUS INFORMATION

♚┋DEVELOPMENT: Semi-developed ♚┋SHIPPING: Shiplocked. Not to a particular ship, mind you, but because of Espen’s background and personality, it would be ooc for him to commit to multiple ships (even if they’re regarded separately). ♚┋VERSE: Multiverse ♚┋VERSE TYPE: crime, slice of life ♚┋CANON: crime ♚┋PLOTTING: open ♚┋CREATION DATE: August 2017

CHARACTER SUMMARY

After five minutes, you’ll have no better descriptor for Espen other than fucking weird – and rightfully so. Everything from his demeanor down to his most perfunctory mannerisms, the man defies social conventions without even trying all that hard. Raised to patch up his mother’s career as a discharged intelligence agent, Espen grew up isolated from his peers, trained and groomed mostly and certainly not treated like a son. Eventually, their renegade ways caught up with them; the result being murder in the first degree. Following these events, he was adopted by his paternal grandfather and Theo became Espen. All tragedies aside, his golden heart and warm eyes give away his personality at first glance. There’s compassion in his actions that shouldn’t be feasible given that his body count is heavy. Now that there’s another life in the picture, namely his kid, Espen is determined to find the exeunt to his tragedy. Good morals and good character, unfortunately, don’t mean shit when you’re indebted to a crime cartel.

APPEARANCE DESCRIPTION

Physically, the guy is average and contrary to what one might believe, he doesn’t really stick out from the crowd save for his colorful sleeve tattoos. Standing 6’0 tall, Espen isn’t exactly a frightening, towering figure either. How he manages to stay fit with the serious sweet tooth that he has is a mystery, but his build is, without doubt, rather muscular. His accent is quite a minuscular detail yet, still, a faint German accent can be heard. What will certainly turn some heads, however, is his clothing. True to his decade-old fondness for the Goth subculture, you won’t ever see him wearing anything that isn’t various shades of black. When he can be bothered to dress up, Espen likes to wear a combination of Edwardian and Trad Goth attire, though the classic ’90 aesthetic of the vampire is also something he wears daily. Due to his appearance, his demeanor is key and he knows this. You can’t just be withdrawn or aloof looking like him, so he goes out of his way to be kind and courteous – especially towards elder people. Since his wardrobe is black and then black, his light brown hair and green eyes are accentuated even moreso, his look always attentive. And when you’re close enough to him, you will smell a few drops of a vintage perfume for women, namely Guerlain Shalimar; a coveted assortment of vanilla, tonka beans and castoreum musk.

PERSONALITY DESCRIPTION

Espen is the pinnacle of wasted brilliance and proof, as he says, that one’s IQ is relative if there’s not a grain of ambition in your body. That’s pretty much his lot in life; a double-edged sword, if you will, with which he has accidentally stabbed himself more than once. His intelligence is only outmatched by how much of a fucking sloth he is. He’s Snorlax personified, essentially, and if nobody actively pestered him to be productive, the guy would probably just suffocate in his own filth. As the common genius stereotype would suggest, Espen is emotionally inhibited and socially inept, unable to function in social settings. This, while somewhat true, isn’t entirely accurate either. Sure, his tact is less than ready to tango and he often comes across as remorselessly crude because he has only a rudimentary grasp on what is socially acceptable. Simultaneously, however, he is not content to just build a wall of silence around him. No, Espen tries his best to tune in to what others are partial towards, reacting accordingly. There’s also always a kernel of humor in his interactions, one that might imply he doesn’t take anything seriously. Because if he does, it matters. Be that as it may, a cold, malicious asshole he is not. He could be; would have enough reason to be – yet he is not if his numerous flaws can be reined in. Even his humoristic take on pessimism is charming. He’s the type of person who knows his odds, yet still does the thing to crack others up. In contrast to this, though, Espen isn’t idealistic – he knows the world is a shithole. Often a devil’s advocate and a complete shut-in when stress hits him, emotions still make him feel insecure and incompetent – every emotional response might be the wrong one, after all.

SKILLS / COMPETENCES

Espen doesn’t really care for languages, yet can communicate on native speaker level in three languages – English, Dutch, German. Where he really shines is his creativity and fashion sense. He loves giving baby bats fashion advice, quickly one to offer help when things are tough at home, too. Of course, he shouldn’t be underestimated either. Though not proud of this skillset, per se, he is nonetheless adept at social engineering, sociology, basic psychology, martial arts, vehicle and foot surveillance, marksmanship, and, naturally, hand-to-hand combat. As mentioned above, giving in to his benevolent and amiable side, Espen pursued a master’s degree in forensic nursing. Beyond that, he is also excellent at forgetting important dates, being late, being tired and eating everyone’s food. Oh, yes, and an obscure knowledge of medieval and Celtic history to boot, he’s really into medieval markets/costumes.

INTERPERSONAL MANNER

In a word, odd. Just plain fucking odd. Here he is not even able to survive without somebody constantly kicking his ass to get his shit together; here he is with barely an idea what decorum is and he still tries to be kind, even though it’s technically not in his nature to be any of that. Although Espen may come across as secretive, private and somewhat shy at first, any worries are forgotten as soon as mischief, fun, or sweets are involved. Now, ever since his family died, Espen has been somewhat clingy with the few people he has in his life, much like a cat demanding instant and constant attention. He doesn’t take well to being ignored, and won’t stop until he has your undivided attention. As for romance, Espen isn’t really made for that; not in the conventional sense. A very solitary creature by default, it is very hard for even him to tell whether what he feels are genuinely deep emotions or just what he feels compelled to feel. Either way, if you express interest, Espen will go to great lengths to ensure you feel nothing but wanted and validated.

INSPIRED BY: the guy on Lie to Me, Edmund (King Lear), Deadpool tbh

#profile;Espen

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fascination-glamour · 7 years ago

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So I Married a Much Older Man

Exploring why some women choose husbands old enough to be their fathers.

At 7 a.m. on a recent Monday, I sat in a beige waiting room surrounded by back issues of AARP The Magazine and pamphlets on gastrointestinal health. “Is anyone here for Jack?” a nurse asked. I raised my hand, and she searched my face for the word she needed. “Your…uh…um…” “Husband,” I filled in for her. “Right,” she said, eyebrows raised. “Your husband’s colonoscopy is done and he’s nearly ready to go home.” She walked me to where Jack, still loopy from anesthesia, chatted merrily with the surgery center staff, his naked butt exposed in his backless hospital gown. He made the nurses giggle with slurred jokes about Snapchatting his experience in the endoscopy ward—funny, because Jack's never used Snapchat. “He’s such a hoot!” one of the nurses said.

Getty Ten years ago, I couldn't have imagined settling down with a man 20 years my senior, “hoot” or not. There’s the biannual colonoscopy to sit through, because at 52, Jack’s at that point in life. There’s also the social stigma, the difference in career phases, the fact that Boyz II Men brings him no childhood nostalgia whatsoever. Our differences, experts say, give couples like us, with an age gap of 20 or more years, a 95 percent chance of divorce. Given the statistics, why do women like me yoke ourselves to men old enough to be our fathers? Popular theory suggests gold-digging is in effect, since older men presumably have greater financial security. But three years into my marriage, I’m still (happily) driving a 2004 Honda Element with 160,000 miles and a back door held shut with my German Shepherd’s leash. While I’ll admit that it was Jack who introduced me to the joys of bottled wine over boxed and hotels over hostels, my husband is a guy who invests most of his money back into his business and his community—one of the reasons I fell for him—and I work hard to bring in my own. Besides, recent research suggests it’s millennial men who are most likely to marry for money. With more than 40 percent of American breadwinners now female, I'd argue we're looking at the rise of the sugar momma. Harder for me to write off, according to scientists, is another unflattering explanation for May-December romances: the dreaded daddy-issues theory. While an American Psychological Association study debunked the hypothesis that younger wives are compensating for lousy father-daughter relationships, the research didn’t address women like me, whose dads have been caring and present and normal. Could we be the ones subconsciously attracted to a ::cringe:: daddy-husband?

Getty “The short answer is ‘yes,’” says Pepper Schwartz, Ph.D., AARP's love and relationship expert and best-selling author of American Couples. “A woman can have a healthy relationship with her dad and still be looking for that father figure in a spouse. Someone who can protect them and teach them—someone who has taken on the world, and who can help them take on the world, too. It’s not that these women are sexualizing their dads, but the things that a dad represents.” Initially, Jack represented nothing for me but a job. When we met eight years ago, I waited on his table at a fancy restaurant in a small New Jersey town. I was a graduate student studying journalism, and I knew Jack (who was on a date at the time) was the owner of a local publishing company. Between taking an order and delivering a check, I pitched myself as a writer-for-hire. A gig wasn’t in the cards—his company wasn’t hiring—and neither was a romance. Jack would tell me later that, although he’d found me cute in an overly eager, naïve sort of way, I wasn’t his type. His celebrity crush is Martha Stewart, and I have neither her bone structure nor her flair for miniature fruitcakes.

Getty But a year later, Jack stumbled upon a blog I wrote and sought me out to offer me a job. It felt thrilling to finally be working in a real office with real business cards and a real mentor. When I needed an apartment—tough to find in a resort town with sky-high rents—Jack offered me a room in his house, which meant we frequently worked late before coming home to split a bottle of wine. It was here I discovered Jack’s bleeding heart for animals, his passion for restoring vintage typewriters, and his talent for narrating dull car trips with an uncanny Sean Connery impersonation. Somewhere between copy-editing and cabernet, we became great friends...and then more. It complicated everything. I fretted for months over revealing my new relationship to my traditional parents, who were surprisingly alright with it. I worried that already living with Jack would torpedo our chance at love. And I worked extra hard at my job in order to show the small-town-gossip set I wasn’t some floozy with a fetish for baby boomers. So the implication that falling for Jack could have been a ploy by my subconscious to secure a daddy figure who’d make life easier? Cue the explosion of my feminist head. My raised hackles are to be expected, sociologists say. Although society is trending toward greater acceptance of individual choice, there still exists the idea that by marrying older, a woman has turned against her gender (i.e., she’s perpetuating the fallacy that men should be providers while a woman’s value is as a trophy). One friend told me he’d lost all respect for me when I committed to someone so far my senior. And when Jack and I married three years ago, acquaintances placed bets on how long it would last. “It’s a paradox,” Schwartz says. “In many cases, the more progressive a woman’s friends, the more likely they are to raise their eyebrows at a big age gap. Often, it’s not that there is anything wrong with the love or desire between the individuals, but with the way it works in terms of placement in the world—she may get a lifestyle upgrade or an intellectually potent guy, but it often displaces the woman more than the man.” Case in point: Shortly after we started dating, I’m the one who quit my job. Since Jack’s life in New Jersey was already established, I also reimagined my five-year plan, which had involved moving to a bigger city with a larger network of young professionals and fewer early-bird specials. I can see how, on paper, the power dynamics of my relationship look ripe for judgement. And that judgement is not entirely unfounded. In addition to his lumberjack good looks, I am attracted to Jack’s intellectual potency, his worldliness, and the unwavering way he protects the things he loves—all idealized “daddy” qualities (albeit ones I’d also find attractive in a 20-something). There have been times—like when we started having sex—that I’ve happily let Jack take the lead. After all, he’d been doing it longer than I’d been alive. You would think his considerable experience would make me, a relative prude, feel self-conscious about my lack of sexual savvy, but it did the opposite. I’d spent my adult life pretending to be comfortable with physical intimacy, trying too hard to be sexy and desirable. Being with someone so seasoned in the sheets—coupled with my desire for an honest relationship with this great guy—allowed me to relax and let Jack teach me. (The lesson: I should be enjoying sex, too.) The double orgasms I started experiencing made it easy to laugh off friends who said they didn’t “get” my relationship, as though it were a word problem from high school algebra. The 2011 book Getting Intimate: A Feminist Analysis of Old Age, Masculinity and Sexuality, details several studies indicating men become less selfish in bed as they age. In it author Linn Sanberg, Ph.D., quotes a Swedish verse: “With the older man you need not worry. He does it thoroughly; he’s in no hurry. But younger men, they are just shit. They barely get there before ‘that’s it.’” For every sexy advantage, there’s an unsexy obstacle: Jack’s idea of classic TV heaven is Gunsmoke; I’d rather binge Gilmore Girls. He bemoans the entitlement of the, ahem, millennial generation over dinner. And my innate millennial thirst for adventure often clashes with Jack’s desire to protect a wonky ankle. A recent ziplining fiasco comes to mind. After accidentally zipping half-way back, Jack was left spinning forty-five feet above the ground in slow, dizzying circles, spewing four-letter words that echoed through the aerial course I’d harangued him into trying. Later, while laughing about his rescue over a beer, he told me what had run through his mind while swaying in the breeze: “I’m too old for this shit.” Then there’s the greatest practical disadvantage to marrying older: the worry that you’ll spend a chunk of your life feeding him Ovaltine through a straw before ultimately dying alone. Last year, after Jack contracted Lyme disease but before we received a proper diagnosis, I convinced myself he was dying and that the thing everyone had warned me about, the relatively short shelf-life of my marriage, had come to pass. If Jack had been in his 30s, I’m not sure I would have made the leap from “strange symptoms” to “certain death” so quickly. So, if it’s possible to argue that marrying older wasn’t in my best interest, in whose interest was it? My hypothetical children's. Evolutionarily, "women who were attracted to older men fared well and produced healthy offspring, since older men tended to have resources," says Darren Fowler, M.S., a Halifax-based clinical psychologist and the co-author of the aforementioned daddy-issues study. "These types of sexual preferences have been molded into our brains.” In prehistoric days, “resources” would have included a good network of hunters, better equipment for spearing saber-toothed tigers, and generally more caveman knowhow. Today, “resources” refers more to financial prowess—a diversified portfolio or a job near the C-suite—but the general idea is the same: the guy who's had more time to accrue these things is presumably better equipped to help care for a child. The fact that I’m not even sure I want children? Doesn’t matter, Fowler says; I could have been nudged by my subconscious. But everything's a tradeoff. Coupling up with an older man compounds the pressure to have children that’s placed on all women; I can hear my biological clock ticking louder whenever I picture Jack coaching little league at 65. All the studies confirming links between aging sperm and high-risk pregnancies don’t help. The danger is so great, scientists in New Zealand have spent $345,000 studying the sexual habits of zebrafish in an attempt to pinpoint the biological drive that compels human women to choose older mates, despite the hazards. While I’m not sure I care to know what a fish has to say about my life choices, I understand the fascination with age gaps. Determining our comfort zone (5 years? 20? 40?) is an interesting litmus test for our personal moral framework and an opportunity to reflect on the social constructions within that framework. I’ve spent some time thinking about this well-argued piece by Heather Schwedel, in which she calls women like me traitors to our generation. Schwedel refers to an especially large age gap as “everything that’s wrong with our sexist, youth-worshipping, male-privilege-run-amok society.” Honestly, I don’t know where I stand. Maybe I am a traitor. Or maybe Schwedel’s belief is informed by the same mercurial zeitgeist that determines when shoulder pads are out of fashion and wallpaper is hip again. Maybe we’d all do well to dress and decorate and marry however the heck we want. Isn’t it possible two mismatched people get together simply because they hit it off, no complex sociobiological equations required? “The ultimate thing is looking at this person to person, marriage to marriage,” Schwartz says. “Sometimes, there’s no accounting for the psychological bond between people." And sometimes, a few failed ziplines or dates in the endoscopy ward are a small price to pay for that bond. Story First Published in marieclaire.com Read the full article

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