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nightingaelic · 4 years ago

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POODLES IN THE WASTELAND

i jest I jest

But 👀

What about pets? Either ones companions would have or a very uncommon one that someone wouldn’t think was a good pet, BUT IS. Deathclaws you can ride like a pony, mole rats that want belly rubs, cazadore’s as cattier pigeons! What are your thoughts?

Or like, Danse or Piper or Fawkes with something hilarious Idek ignore me

Oooookay, here’s my comprehensive list of companions - ALL companions, across Fallouts 3, 4, New Vegas and 76 - and their (headcanon) choices in wasteland pets. I’ll give a little explanation for each - particularly as many of these companions are transients and don’t have the luxury of owning a home to keep pets at. Also, I feel like most of the companions, while they might not necessarily like pets, would be somewhat fond or at least respectful of the pets of the Lone Wanderer/Courier/Sole Survivor/Vault Dweller, like Dogmeat and Rex.

Bighorners

Lily Bowen: Everyone’s favorite super mutant grandma is already an experienced shepherdess in Jacobstown, and she’s more than willing to tear some night stalkers apart to keep her herd safe. If that’s not love beyond the norm for wasteland livestock, I don’t know what is. She’s probably given all of her bighorners names after the characters in the television reruns she used to watch on holotape in Vault 17, like Grace and Audrey and Lucille.

Brahmin

Raul Tejada: Actually spent a decent part of his pre-war life living on a ranch, so he knows that most brahmin don’t deserve being labeled “irritable” just because people don’t know how to read their body language. I think he’d follow wild brahmin herds around a bit on a whim and keep them from coming to any harm, especially the little ones. He gives them names like the cattle he grew up with, Corazon and Gordo and Blanca.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Doesn’t truck with the wild herds, but she knows that part of the success of a caravan lies with how well they treat their pack animals. All of her caravan’s brahmin have names - Penny, Magic and Sprinkles - and she’s careful to pair them up with drivers who are patient and work well with their various personalities.

Cats

Butch DeLoria: While Butch ultimately decided to leave Vault 101 behind, I don’t think he would ever truly lose his fear of radroaches after what they did to his mom. Having a little friend to warm his bunk in Rivet City and pounce on intruders would probably set his mind at ease, maybe a black tomcat with one ear named Pepper. He might even gift his mom a kitten when he next comes to visit.

Star Paladin Cross: I don’t think Cross much sees the use of an animal that doesn’t contribute to the community it lives in, like most of the Brotherhood of Steel. Cats, however, are excellent at pest control, even if the rats are bigger nowadays. I think she’d give the resident cats at the Citadel some pets in passing, and she’d smile when she has to extract playful kittens from inside her power armor frame. She’s especially fond of the cat colony’s matriarch, a scarred old tabby named Gemma.

Curie: Upon her transition into a synth body, Curie is overjoyed with most animals and their new willingness to approach her for attention. She especially loves cats because she can pick them up and better feel their fur and purring. Her favorite cat is an orange stray in Diamond City that she calls Claude.

Piper Wright: A companion for Nat when she’s out adventuring, an unbiased friend to bounce the latest opinion piece off of before going to print, and a lap-warmer for when you’re typing up the latest article about the exploits of the Minutemen - what’s not to like? The Wright family cat is a slippery, elegant calico named Sugar Bomb.

Preston Garvey: While the Minutemen forts and settlements definitely lean more toward keeping dogs around for security purposes, I think Preston likes his pets quieter and less likely to bowl you over in excitement. The one most likely to sleep with him in his bunk at Sanctuary is a grumpy gray gentleman named Anchovy.

Deathclaws

Veronica Santangelo: If anyone is crazy enough to swipe a deathclaw egg from a nest and try to hatch, rear and train a personal killing machine named Izzy, it’s Veronica. This will probably just alienate her from her Brotherhood chapter even more, but I’m sure she would take special care to make sure that her usual Mojave Wasteland haunts take a peek through a scope to see if the approaching deathclaw has a human on its back before taking a shot.

Dogs

Clover: I don’t think Clover gets out beyond Paradise Falls much, so the only animals she’s used to are the dogs the raiders bring around when passing through. She probably has favorites among the usual visitors and enjoys tossing them bits of meat when she’s allowed to get away from Eulogy and Crimson. If liberated, she’d probably get at least three of her own dogs to watch over her while she sleeps: One small dog to carry with her, a Pekingese or Pomeranian descendant named Coco, and two large dogs to follow through on intimidation and protection, a mastiff named Rock and a Doberman descendant named Roll.

Jericho: Jericho doesn’t deserve a dog but he’d probably have one around anyway to sniff out caps caches and hidden loot after he’s shot everyone in the vicinity. Some slinky beagle mix named Dewey, probably.

Fawkes: I don’t think Fawkes would be picky at all about what kind of dog he’d have. He strikes me as the type who would adopt any half-friendly mutt he ran across. I do think he would have a bit of a soft spot for friendlier mutant hounds, though, and maybe view their mutated circumstances as similar to his own. He’d also be absolutely amazing at playing fetch. Just imagine how far he could lob a stick or ball. All of his dogs would have literary names too, like Byron and Agatha and Edgar.

Craig Boone: Though he’s a bit of a prodigy at sniping, Boone knows his limitations when it comes to spotting hidden enemies on the horizon. I can see him having a hound dog at his side to find the more elusive ones and help him get rid of them faster. Maybe a bloodhound mutt named Bravo.

Cait: Doesn’t like people, but she adores dogs. Having had the life where she’s been abused, exploited and forced into slavery, she’s keenly aware that those like the ones who took advantage of her treat dogs much the same. She’s very protective of any dog she encounters and is very likely to punch you in the face if you so much as look at one wrong. She’d probably name any pup she adopted Lucky.

Hancock: Honestly, he’s just a fan of any animal that is happy to hang out with you whether you’re drunk, high, fighting raiders or patrolling downtown Boston. The Goodneighbor strays know him as the guy who always has mirelurk jerky in his pockets. His favorite is a rough-and-tumble, black-and-white spotted cattle dog descendant that he cheekily calls King George.

Robert MacCready: He’s not quick to trust dogs, but once he’s sure they’re not a threat, they’re one of the few critters around which he’ll relax completely. He’s still a little wary of them around Duncan, but any dog that’s a part of his family is more or less his son’s permanent babysitter.

Nick Valentine: Dogmeat is also basically his dog. The two have a history of working cases together, with Dogmeat just turning up whenever a trail goes cold and leading Nick to the evidence he needs to reopen his investigation. Nick doesn’t know how or why Dogmeat does it, but he’s not about to ruin a good thing.

Strong: I don’t think he would turn down a ferocious mutant hound as a friend. He’d probably feed it mole rats and call it something like Killer.

Foxes

Beckett: This former raider has a love-hate relationship with a fox that keeps going through his trash. He affectionately calls him Lil’ Bastard.

Sofia Daguerre: Having crashed back to an earth she doesn’t recognize, I think Sofia would be tickled that the foxes of Appalachia have basically stayed the same despite the bombs. I can see her leaving dinner scraps out on her porch for one that she sometimes spots in the foliage, and slowly coaxing the critter to come into the light. She names her Scarlett once she finally convinces her to eat out of her hand.

Mega sloths

Settler forager: I would not be at all surprised if this man ran into a mega sloth in the Mire and decided to try befriending it. The creature, probably surprised at this old guy’s nerve, decided to accept the handful of leaves he offered and grew slowly more fond of the guy’s persistence. It doesn’t know its name is Fergus but it does know that if a human is wearing overalls, it’s probably not a threat.

Mole rats

Deacon: Alright, hear me out. Deacon has a fondness for underdogs, and mole rats are about as underdog as they come. I think Deacon thinks these little guys are cute despite their wrinkles and buck teeth, and I think he sees the value in having a tunneling pet that likes to collect shiny things. One of his deep cover hideouts is in an old tunnel system in the northern Commonwealth, where he hangs out with a young mole rat named Henry.

Owls

Raider punk: This radio operator got wind of an abandoned nest of owlets in Appalachia early on in his career and, being the nearest to the report, decided to rescue the little guys. Now he has three owls that occasionally drop in at his camp to hoot and accept handouts: Nona, Decima and Morta. While he’s still fond of them, he’s usually disappointed that they aren’t the Mothman coming to visit.

Rad chickens

Yasmin Chowdhury: Ever the opportunistic cook, she picked up the practice of raising chickens from the settlers at Foundation and has four hens of her own: Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme. The “ladies,” as she refers to them, give her a constant stream of eggs for omelets.

Ravens

Settler wanderer: This gal has an affinity with birds, who are always on the move like her. She admires their ability to be untethered and let the wind take them far and wide. Nevertheless, she likes to scatter corn when they come close to her on the road, and formed a sort of friendship with a particularly handsome specimen that she calls Tornado.

Wolves

Old Longfellow: This guy is the epitome of the meme about dads not wanting pets and then instantly falling in love with whatever animal enters their life. He probably found an injured wolf pup in his travels around the island and took pity on it, nursing it back to health in his cabin. It’s still got a bit of a twisted paw, but follows him around and listens like any other dog and answers to the name Lamoine.

Yao guai

Porter Gage: I bet this guy adopted an orphaned bear cub and raised it by hand. Now it’s so big that even if Gage thinks he’s an easy target for other raiders due to his age, he’s much less likely to get singled out than he thinks because he has a yao guai following him around like a puppy. The bear’s name is Fuzzy Wuzzy. It has no hair.

No pets, thanks

Charon: Too likely to accidentally wind up in the line of fire.

Sergeant RL-3: Too easily corrupted by Communist influences.

Arcade Gannon: Too much time spent getting in your way.

Codsworth: Too likely to make messes.

Paladin Danse: Too many wasted resources.

X6-88: Too much of a liability.

Ada: Too easy to lose when on the move.

Solomon Hardy: Too unsanitary.

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mizmatched · 4 years ago

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please tell me about the wild shit. i am far too busy riding the high off of sheep tubbo canon to sit through that bullshit myself

the c!dream apologist doc, a summary:

-the author basically says that the phrase “Character Dream has done nothing wrong ever,” isn’t correct before immediately calling themselves ‘ a genuine apologist of his character.‘

-the author states that he is not really as bad as every one makes him up to be

-the author says that their are no real villains in the dream smp and that makes it unique. they then immediately call schaltt ‘a greasy bastard who showed no appreciation even towards his most loyal servants‘ and offered no explaination on why schaltt was ever a not a villain, directly contradicting themselves.

-they say that because dream does not stream, we can’t see his perspective and therefore there are way more people against him. the direct quote is ‘The issue with this system is that characters who don't stream don't get to represent themselves properly to an audience.‘ however the author fails to realize that this is the entire point of dream not streaming.

-’Dream, on the other hand, was an incredibly attentive friend. when he hurt George by dethroning him, he did it not with malice, but with the genuine consideration that he would be making his best friend both happier and safer. However, this was twisted on him: “just say you hate me” made Dream look like the bad guy of a situation he’d started to help, not hurt. Sapnap also doubled down on defending George, which only entrenched a villain narrative further for Dream’s character. ‘ this quote speaks for itself. this is literally undermining the entirety of sapnaps character arc into villainizing dream.

-the author then says that george was dethroned because cc!george asked cc!dream to dethrone him, and there was no actual malice involved.

-The author claims that dream treated both sam and punz well, even though they were ‘hired, subordinates that would have received very different treatment under Schlatt.‘

- The author then asks why the audience gives wilbur and techno a ‘pass’ after they manipulated tommy, but not dream.

-' Once again I have to believe that this is due in part to Wilbur and Techno being SMP streamers. If Dream were to show an audience his point of view, I have no doubt in my mind that more people would show his character understanding. ‘

That. is. the. entire. point.

-’ For example, let’s talk about Tommy apologists. A lot of Tommy apologists are newer fans of the SMP who don’t understand that he was the primary cause of most of the conflict on the SMP. When Tommy acts violently or irrationally, it can be attributed to his age, the stress that he is under, and the circumstances that bring the SMP to a constant state of war. I don’t fault Tommy’s character for this, but what I dislike is the idea that he can’t then face consequences for his actions. No matter how understandable he is as a person, he is also a political pin. He represents a threat to the peace on the SMP, and a nation that has caused nothing but problems since its conception. ‘

this person is starting to sound exactly like how c!dream talks and its disgusting. this is scary

-the author then proceeds to explain that dream ‘can do nothing’ but destroy tommy’s power. dream needs to tear down tommy as he has been ‘falsey built up as a hero’

-the author then proceeds to dis on l’manberg a bit calling it ‘ built upon division, raised by war, and causes even those uninvolved in the original foundation of the nation to partake in or be caught in dangerous, unnecessary, war and bloodshed. ‘

-the author then ‘debunks’ the theories that dream represents any sort of oppressive government, by saying that he is for the abolition of states and an anarchist

-author even argues that dream cannot be authoritarian-left because he is pro religion, as he founded the church of prime

-author goes into further detail about the types of government dream cannot be but that one was the funniest excuse

-’ Dream is not a ruler, a government, or any kind of authority figure in this sense. What he is, is tired and jaded. I’ve described my opinion on this in a previous video and I will do so again. Prior to Tommy’s whitelisting, the SMP was (mostly) peaceful—people were gathering resources, the anarchy was well-maintained, and people were progressing well. Even when conflict arose, Tommy was the one who continued aggressing further—this isn’t the point of this portion of the document, but I recommend rewatching “So I Started a Minecraft War VS Dream” on Tommy’s channel to understand what I mean. Dream’s intention has always been peacekeeping. Yes, by force, if necessary, but this doesn’t make him an authoritarian. If he is personally connected to the world, then he understands the history of nations, and how quickly they fall into violence. We saw it with L’Manburg and we saw it much earlier with The Village That Went Mad. Nations have never and will never find a peaceful resolution, and Dream isn’t required to allow them to sprout up just because the temporary guests of the world want them to. He’s the one, in the end, that watches them crumble. Dismantling them is an act of peace ‘

this is the furthest i got. might continue later, but the doc is SO LONG and my brain can only handle the stupidity for so long. i would like to go into further detail about why this doc is wrong, not only because of the takes but the nature of its evidence, but i am so tired man.

#dream smp #c!dream #c!dream critical #miz speaks #im tired man #tommyinnit #jschatt

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calamity-bean · 4 years ago

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blood moon (2014)

Sooo, apropos of my craving for horror Westerns, I actually DID find and watch one I hadn’t seen before!

Blood Moon (2014). Not to be confused with Blood Moon (2021) — which I’ve also seen, and which is also a horror Western, but set in the modern day, not historical — or any of the million other films called Blood Moon. This Blood Moon has George Blagden fighting a werewolf.

I say werewolf because... it’s a werewolf. Just a straight-up classic werewolf. The movie doesn’t call it that, but that’s what it is. Vague spoilers below in the context of a very mini review, since I reckon, hey, I found another one in the genre I asked for recs for, I should probably post about it in case anyone else who likes this stuff is curious, right?

So. Basic plot: A small-town sheriff, his new wife, a saloon madam, a priest, a reporter, and a mysterious gunslinger walk into a bar get stranded at an isolated stagecoach station, along with two dangerous bank robbers. There is a werewolf outside, and it wants to eat them. That's basically it!

It’s kinda corny and kinda low production value, but honestly it was still fun to watch if I just turned my brain off, because I like Western settings and I love werewolves. The words “Wild West werewolf” are catnip to me. So I wanted to like it, and on a surface level I did enjoy the ride. It has several pretty ladies and a pretty guy and they’re all dressed in period costumes and waving guns around and there’s a fur-suit B-movie monster. That’s fun!

Unfortunately, on a structural level this film is weakened by some rather unresolved plot threads and weak dialogue, and on a meta level it’s soured by the choice to explicitly (and emphatically) identify the movie’s monster not as a werewolf but as a certain well-known type of shapeshifter from Navajo culture. Theoretically, I like narratives to be tied to their setting, but in this case it was appropriative as well as just plain unnecessary, seeing as — like I said — the monster really looks, acts, and functions like a straight-up classic werewolf, full moons and silver bullets and all. Several cringey/insensitive aspects of the writing could have been avoided if the film had simply called a spade a spade (that is to say, a werewolf a werewolf) and not felt the need to misrepresent a culture's beliefs. Not to mention that the one significant Navajo character in the film is portrayed by a non-Native actress and is, imo, not well written.

Overall, the basic premise (wild! west! werewolf!!) is solid, and it’s superficially fun if you like cheesy gun-slinging monster horror. But its structural and conceptual flaws undermine the whole thing. I can deal with cheesy acting and clumsy special effects, but I cannot say that its treatment of Navajo characters and culture was handled well.

Maybe someday I'll find a properly wonderful Wild West werewolf story. Not today, unfortunately. But someday!

#horror #western #film #blood moon 2014 #op

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georgemackayhey · 5 years ago

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Silver Lining: Chapter 4

In which you and George decide to make the most of life after meeting up at the wrong place at just the right time…

w/c: 6k

a/n: This is the second to last chapter, guys! Ah! It's been such fun to write, and as always I'm looking forward to hearing all your thoughts and feelings! ♡

taglist: @etherealallure @maria-josefin @shelbygirlsclubx @loulouloueh @clarkewithameme @haileymorelikestupid @weyheyavengers @queen-bunnyears

< Last Chapter Next Chapter>

───※ ·❆· ※───

The halls of the resort were immaculate, the sound of your hurried stomp echoed through them. You had hardly taken the time to appreciate the well-lit space with the way you zoomed up to the third floor- fist clenched at your side. You knew exactly what to expect, holding no hope for any other possibility.

And as you hurriedly knocked on the soft cream door of room 500, you hadn't even really noticed how George was hot on your trail; though lagging a bit behind to catch his breath on a winding staircase.

There was muffled chatter from behind the door you approached, the sound causing your patience to wear thin. So you went on knocking until the sound of a lock being turned proceeded its fateful opening.

"What? What is it- oh."

Colin was stood in the sliver of the open door, dressed in a sloppily tied hotel robe. And even though he seemed unprepared to greet anyone, a wicked grin painted his lips, as if he'd somehow been expecting to see you, all the same. The sight of him was enough to set your blood to a boil and the sound of his stupid grumbly voice nearly drove you to a psychotic break right then and there.

"What are you doing here?" You asked in a growl through your teeth. As soon as the desk attendant shot you a pitiful glare, you knew what was going on. You weren't surprised to see your almost ex-husband guarding the entrance to the room you booked for your honeymoon. But you were well and truly seething that he had the gall to enjoy any kind of leisure time during the period he should have somehow been paying for his moral crimes.

"Well, darling, as I recall it, I wanted to come here. You wanted to go to Rome. Looks like we've both gotten what we want, hm?"

"Don't call me-" You spat, glaring at him with a look you wish could kill.

"Alright- alright, It's been a lovely visit but I've had quite enough of you," Colin moved to shut the door, but in some odd reflex, you moved to stop it. You didn't really want to see much more of the guy. You didn't even realize you had more to say. But curses and blames started spouting out of you, pent up for too long.

Colin wasn't listening though. Why would he? He did his own talking, right over top of you, complaining about the things he always hated about your life together, how much time he wasted on you. You were arguing the things you both always knew but were never brave enough to say in the stability of your mediocre romance.

"It's just like you to show up and ruin the only bit of good life has thrown my way in the past week." You hissed.

"Oh please, I gave you more good than you'll ever get again." Colin boasted, always one to make mention of wealth and status, no matter the situation or topic.

As you stood trying desperately trying to think up a comeback, you were too blinded by anger to say anymore.

That's when another voice, strained from hurrying after you, floated around the corner.

"Y/n? What's- oh" George's concerned expression morphed into some surprising glare when he turned to see who had already taken residence in the room you booked. George stalled in place, managing to steady himself in a flash even with all the momentum he'd gained on his race to catch up to you.

"Who the hell are you?" Colin asked in a condescending snort of a laugh that made the meter tracking your rage fly up and over the ballistic marker, sending you to short circuit.

But there was nothing more to say or do. Colin likely wouldn't give up his stay if you demanded, and even if he decided too, you wouldn't have wanted to stay in a room your ex-fiance had just been occupying. You knew he was only blocking your entry so he might have some kind of last laugh. And he got it, didn't he? With a frustrated groan, you spun on your heels and stormed away in the same fashion you'd hurried up here.

"Enjoy your holiday" You heard George offer Colin some semblance of a goodbye, though his tone was strained and withholding, he was still polite. But you were too busy fuming to admire the little ways George fascinated you.

You didn't have time to meet the desk attendants worried gaze as you stormed past his desk and out of the resort doors. You didn't have the sense to feel sorry for breaking up a group of birds from enjoying someone's discarded cup of ice cream as you paced toward a row of tall trees at the edge of the car park.

You knew the fun would have to end soon, but you were ignorant to the possibility of this trip ending in the same frustrating manner the night before your wedding had. Colin was at the worst place at the right time and he got just what he wanted, leaving you to pay the price once more. But you probably deserved it. You were really beginning to wonder if life could be lived in the dreamlike haze that Rome provided. You should have known better.

And just like always, when you least expected it, George slowly sauntered toward where you lingered kicking rocks at trees.

"Only you would run into someone you know on holiday in Barcelona" He echoed the same wry joke you gave him in Rome, but now was different. Now was ruined and you were struggling not to cry.

"I'm sorry, George. I thought this was going to be endless fun, and I don't know what I was thinking, dragging you along, and now its all ruined and I just-"

"It's not ruined." George gently cut through your monologue in that marvelously confusing way of his; pointing out the bright side that you really couldn't see, especially right now. "It doesn't have to be anyway." You just kept your befuddled gaze on him as he went on...

"He can keep the resort. It was far too posh anyway. Why don't we find a place on the beach and make the best of it?"

"You.. you still want to?" You breathed a humorless laugh. Your shoulders relaxed as you attempted to come away from your anger, and tried to understand why on earth George was still on board this wild ride.

"Well, we're already here. And... you promised I could choose our next adventure." George teased, offering a grin and reading his brows, coaxing you to smile too. You just stared at him, taking note of his relaxed disposition, his gentleness. It practically radiated from him.

"I'll go fetch our bags if you find a cab?" George nodded, already beginning to walk backward toward the entrance of the resort. And with the way he took the action you felt no option but to agree to join in, nodding on your turn to hail a ride.

The cab driver you flagged down was almost sickeningly helpful. She listed off a few dozen places to stay adding her personal favorite perks of every place. She waved goodbye when you and George stretched out onto the pavement of a hotel a decent number of miles away from the resort you'd come from.

The hotel you'd chosen was right on a golden beach, a quaint little stucco styled building. Inside was decorated in natural tones and plants and flowers. George insisted on splitting the cost when you wouldn't let him pay for the whole thing.

You thought of renting two separate small rooms four floors apart, but that seemed silly since you were basically on this trip together. So because the price was the same, you booked a suite with two small rooms joined by a galley kitchen and called it a day.

So after lugging your bags into the spot you'd keep them for the next week, there was nothing left to worry over. The mini bar in the lobby was serving drink specials; you decided since it wasn't quite time for dinner or bed, the day you had called for some form of immediate indulgence.

The bar was full of seasoned vacationers, sharing finger foods and margaritas. A kind bar keep managed to take your order before you'd even settled at the bar top. "You know what, I better just get this over with." You decided, pulling your phone from your pocket. You'd promised to call your mother often, and you knew you had to tell her what had just gone down. The sooner the better, you realized, because you didn't want to dwell on Colin or anything you had to endure hearing from the guy. You wanted to forget everything that had happened and spend the rest of your vacation having at least a little bit of fun.

You pushed past a door into the warm afternoon, settling against a wooden post of the patio where families lingered to shake off the sand from the beach before heading back inside the hotel.

Your mother answered the phone as she had days ago, worried before you'd even gotten the chance to say hello. So you didn't even try to mask your greeting with fake charm. You headed straight into the details of your upsetting encounter. How the start of your stay in this beautiful city was permanently soiled with the memory of Colin.

"I tried to warn you." Your mother spoke theatrically. You wondered if she could hear your furrow your brow, because she went on to explain herself. "I heard from Shirley, who heard from Dr. McCarther, that Colin's mother said he left for the airport a day ago."

So that's why she'd been so frantic on the phone, before.

"I tried to warn you, deary. I know how much you wanted this trip to be some kind of escape." She commiserated in the way only mothers know how to best.

"Yeah, I'm determined to keep it that way. We're staying at the beach now, instead." You spoke decidedly.

"Well, now that I've got your attention might I suggest coming home?" Your mother scolded. "I understand what you're going through but is taking off with some stranger really-"

You blocked out everything she said after that. Your mother meant well, you knew, but she had no idea what you were going through. She'd been happily married for decades. And she didn't know George.

You just couldn't go one talking about this situation. Sure Colin did his best to rain on your parade, but the heavens gave you one last shot to go a little wild. You were here, with George and there was no changing that. So you ended the call with the promise you were safe and sound and planned to keep it that way. Then you marched back inside repeating the mantra to yourself.

"What your mother must think of me," George pulled a face as you eased into the seat at the dark wooden bar, next to him. "I cringe to wonder."

"Oh, you think I'm calling home to report about you, Mr. Movie star?" You joked, jabbing George in the arm with your elbow. At this point, the little gesture felt familiar and you'd only wondered if you'd been to forward after the fact. If George was put off by it, his broad grin was only contradicted by the smallest shake of his head, eyes averted to a waiter who happily served your drinks.

___

The next day you woke up early and headed to see Casa Batlló. In fact, in just the first couple of days, you managed to see the majority of Gaudi's creations. It was divine, taking the time to admire the buildings and listen to other tourists yammer on about what they'd come to see and why they were so excited to be in the city.

There were fleeting moments, for the first day or two, when you worried Colin wasn't finished sabotaging your trip. That he might pop out of nowhere and pretend he was the one who was once so excited to take a tour of a modern art museum. But you realized he was never keen to your well-planned list. In fact, you planned most of your trip with the knowledge that Collin would be off meeting business partners and making deals. You needed something to occupy your time, and you never imagined having anyone to experience each little adventure with you.

That's what made George's presence all the more exciting.

Besides that, you'd seemed to have fallen into a familiar routine with George. And not just in the way you'd gone about planning out your days. You'd began to predict each other's lunch orders and what you'd both might have enjoyed most about each little adventure, and why. You'd began to pick up on many of George's little quirks...

Like how every place you went, people noticed George, but he didn't seem to notice their lingering gazes. You could never be sure if passerby recognized him like you once had, or if they were only struck by his perfect features like you often were.

But this didn't mean he gave anyone a cold shoulder. No, George was as friendly to the people running market booths and passerby as he was to you, offering smiles and asking about the details of the flowers they were selling.

He brought up serious things at the strangest times. Like how he told you some deep dark secret in passing over midday coffee, just as you'd come away from raving about the cup you held in your hands. George would ask intense questions as you stood on the edge of a garden watching a street band play where children danced near the makeshift drums. His timing always seemed strange and unexpected; but as you went on talking about whatever might have been brought up, you realized you felt completely comfortable sharing your own answers and hearing his in turn.

George gave answers that were well thought out, even if they were just yes or no. And he listened when you did the same, nodding and laughing at every right time.

Then there was how you shared silence together. Even when there weren't words to trade, the glances and nods you passed to each other seemed to speak for themselves.

And when you lied on the beach, breathing in the salty air while the sounds of scattered laughter were dulled by crashing waves, the silence between you and George was easy.

George looked perfectly comfy with a new ratty paperback held above his face. You wondered how many tiny storybooks he's backed away, and how many times he'd read them, with such worn covers.

When you pointed out boats on the far off horizon, George wasn't upset to be disrupted his reading. He indulged every one of your passing thoughts before turning another page, reading on till one of you had reason to speak up again.

But when you closed your eyes to soak up the warmth of the sun, your peace was broken when George uttered a strange noise. You lifted your sunglasses, turning your head to find a hard plastic frisbee had invaded the space you set up.

"I'm so sorry!" A girl rushed toward you, apologizing in an accented squeak. Her hair was flowing honey brown, her bathing suit was sunny yellow. She was the kind of picture-perfect girl that when mirrored against your own image, alerted you to the things you liked least about yourself.

"We're just learning how to play," She shyly reached out for the frisbee George had taken into his clutch, after it hit him on the knee.

"It's not too hard. Keep your eye on the prize next time, aye?" George extended the plastic disc to the girl.

She giggled. You feigned a chuckle in response as you slid your sunnies back on. George spun off into some story about the correct frisbee stance and how it was tougher than it looked.

"Care to lead by example? We're hopeless." The foreign girl bit her lip with a hopeful gaze and that was all it took to get George to his feet.

Before he left, though, he handed his book to you with a smile. "Safe hands." He gave you a look as you settled back into your spot, giving him a similar expression before watching him skip off to meet the group of girls, showing them all the perfect frisbee stance, whatever the hell that even meant. How hard could it really be?

You only turned your gaze to the book in your possession, pretending to read it, but more so admiring the pages as you tried to understand what made them so important to George, what he valued. Wondering what tomorrow might bring.

___

Four days in, a heavy downpour halted your plans to frolic through the streets of Barcelona. You had become absolutely taken with the city and every time a new adventure died down, the pair of you would dream up what to do with the rest of your time.

So when dense pelts of rain woke you up, you frowned, but George seemed at ease, of course. He was just as excited to plan a day in.

He ordered extra from room service and found a foreign movie channel on the television in his room. The pair of you kicked back on the decently-sized bed he'd made up and added your own commentary to the films you couldn't quite understand. You ended having a blast making up storylines of your own as movies passed by the screen, and you shared plates of fruits while the rain poured on.

It was easy to get lost in George's company, no matter what you were doing. You realized you were treading dangerous waters, letting yourself feel so engulfed by his presence. But you let yourself all the same, determined to make the most of this rare occasion that would soon become nothing but a fleeting occasional memory.

Then it came time to attend the cooking class you'd signed up for. The website where the sign up sheet came from encouraged everyone who did to make time to visit La Boqueria beforehand. The market was only just around the corner from where the cooking class was held, and it was the place all the ingredients you'd work with would have been purchased.

You and George roamed around stalls for almost too long, exchanging favorite recipes, kitchen horror stories, and successes. You'd nearly forgotten where you were on your way too and had to hurry around a couple of corners to make it to the class on time.

When you arrived in a rush, the people who'd made it there on time were mingling inside a building made up of big tall windows and white brick. Most of them stared, bewildered by your hurry inside. There was still time to spare it seemed.

And as you eased in to join the group who'd already been waiting, past a few warm welcomes, you recognized one greeting out of the rest.

It was the girl from the beach who couldn't manage to get the hang of throwing a frisbee. Though you had a hunch she'd know exactly what she was aiming for, that day. And there was no doubt she'd recognized you now, or rather, George.

He greeted her warmly, with kindness, like George did best. You gave her a smile and a shrug, accepting that she wasn't keen to give you the time of day. In fact as she greeted George in turn, she mentioned only signing up for this class after he mentioned something about it during their impromptu frisbee lesson.

Luckily that was about the time the instructor made his grand appearance.

A tall slender man with dark hair tousled and big green eyes slid into the room with a perfect smile. He introduced himself as Aureo, and you were nearly blinded by his beauty. He was just the right amount of good looking, a little intimidating, but all too well-spoken, he was like a male version of a siren.

As Aureo spoke enthusiastically about the wonders your cooking class was about to embark upon, it seemed everyone was just as smitten with the instructor. Even George seemed dazzled, his wide eyes entirely fixated on the fellow.

As Aureo went on explaining the class and began to delve into the foundations of cooking and the joy of food, his forest-colored eyes kept sweeping over to meet yours. His smile never faltered as he helped each attendant set up their kitchen. You and George were meant to stick together, as most of the people who'd come had brought a friend or two in tow. But the frisbee girl was all on her own.

Aureo was quick to assign her to join up with another pair of ladies, who were more than happy to accept her. But as you watched the slim girl move further toward the back of the room you watched her smile falter.

Soon, you got to cooking a basic version of paella with some fun added twists, and some pa amb tomàquet. Between demonstrations, Aureo made rounds to help everyone set up and start in.

You and George settled into your usual comfortable banter, shoving each other out of the way while you playfully bickered over the cooking instructions. George compared the duty to The Great British Bake off, laughing at how some of the other mini kitchen's were fretting over doing the exact right task at the exact right time.

The room made up of windows was full of warm sunlight and delightful smells. And in between everything was Aureo. You swore you felt your heart stop each time you caught him glancing your way. Never before had you felt so drawn to someone but simultaneously cautious of the same thing.

"Are you going to flirt back or leave that man hopelessly gawking your way the whole afternoon?" George wondered after you'd been caught averting a prolonged gaze with the guy teaching you to cook something new.

"Oh, I can't he's way out of my league." You fretted, searching for a certain spice on the rack in your cabinet space. "Plus I just got my courage up to say something and he's not even looking over here anymore." You pouted while George chopped up a lemon, chucking at your disposition.

You looked over to find Aureo leaning over a woman's shoulder as she offered him a bite of a cut-up pepper. He seemed to have forgotten all about you, actually, admiring the pretty, starry-eyed girl he was circling now.

"It's because he watched me shove fresh bread in my face like a monster and now I'm totally unkissable and he'll never even look my way again ." You joked. As much as you'd liked the attention the instructor kept giving you, there was something holding you back from giving in all the way.

The man was a walking angel, a vision, and he kept looking right at you with something undeniable burning behind his gaze. That was pretty nice.

"You're perfectly kissable, now let's get you that man." George raised his hand, polite as ever, even while scheming.

But you couldn't tell if he meant it, or if he was just trying to shift your attention elsewhere so he could flirt back with the hot girl who'd been shamelessly swooning over George all afternoon. She would shoot her smile across the room, laughing a little when George happily grinned back.

Low and behold, when Aureo came over to ask what you needed, and you made up some excuse about confusing measurements, the frisbee girl took a chance to come prancing over too. Her name was Renee, and her excuse for invading your kitchen was honestly to borrow some sugar. No one needed any sugar. It was a bloody free for all, and all you could seem to focus on was Aureo's warm hand trailing across your lower back as he went on telling you exactly what to do next.

When he left you, his glances somehow became more persistent, and you felt certain you were living in some kind of fever dream. And he kept coming back.

At first, to ask what music you'd prefer played over the background speaker, insisting if you said the word and he'd waltz back to change the song. Aureo was cunningly persistent, and you didn't mind his brief but blush filled visits. Especially since George had an admirer of his own.

Renee waltzed over, asking George about his stay in Barcelona so far. He kept mentioning the things you'd enjoyed together, asking you how you remembered certain things, and Renee would cast a glance your way. It was empty and unfeeling, just for show before her focus settled completely back to George.

And you couldn't blame her. He was so easy to observe.

You thought you'd started to figure George out by now, but of course, you hadn't. He still laughed about things you didn't realize he'd even noticed. He still looked at you in a way you couldn't understand. Even while he was talking to Renee.

As all the food started to come together, everyone went around trying each other's dishes. Renee made herself at home on your countertop, gushing over George's skills in the kitchen. As they got to talking about their favorite foods, she took a shot at asking him to someplace in the city with the best coffee he absolutely had to try.

Renee was serious, her big doe eyes gazing up at him with her fingers crossed behind her back. As George hesitated to respond, the girl was called back to her kitchen when their food had finished cooking.

When she sulked away with a glance over her shoulder to George who had already turned his attention back to the wonderful pa amb tomàquet you'd managed to create, you felt for the poor girl.

"Are you afraid of trying the best coffee ever and ruining your taste for every other cup for the rest of time?" You chuckled, leaning against the counter while George happily snacked away.

"I suppose we could stop in if you're so keen." George shrugged, none the wiser.

"Wouldn't you want to go with Renne?" You pushed, giving the guy a little laugh as you reached for one of the bits of bread on a silver platter.

"I've only just met her." George started off chuckling, but as he spoke he seemed to realize what it was he was saying. You shared a look, considering how Geogres soft smile remained, but turned into an expression more serious that you couldn't quite understand. But your smile blossomed into a burst of a laugh.

"You didn't even know my name when you gave me your phone number." You pestered, doing your best to ignore how speaking about it made my stomach fill with butterflies. How thinking back to this whole thing started seemed crazy, but in a good way.

"That was different." George searched your face, his brilliant blue eyes full of something he wasn't saying. Something he thought, or maybe hoped, you understood.

Somehow, after a few silent moments passed while you went on lazily tidying up your kitchen, George said something about how he'd come here with you, and didn't want to leave you out of anything. He said that if you made plans with Aureo, that he'd make plans with Renee. But It felt like a dare. It didn't feel like a change of plans. It felt like some kind of game.

And the next thing you knew, you motioned Aureo over toward you and asked his favorite place to go dancing.

___

You slept in the next morning, content far from home. You stretched slowly into the morning, taking your sweet time getting ready for the day. As you padded into the galley kitchen to kick start the automatic coffee machine, you didn't expect any company.

"Goodmorning!" George greeted, coming from around the corner with an empty teacup in his clutch. You gasped, taken aback by his sudden appearance for once.

"I thought you were supposed to be drinking the world's best coffee with the world prettiest girl, today?" You sighed a laugh, relaxing against the counter as your heart rate eased back to normal. You had thought you heard him make plans before leaving the class, last night.

George set down his cup turning to face you while the coffee machine crackled to life.

"I decided against it. I'm sorry, I thought I told you so."

"Oh," You frowned in realization, wondering when he went about changing his mind.

Yesterday, as you'd lost yourself in a giggle-filled conversation with Aureo before the class ended, George seemed to be getting on well with Renee in the corner. What had happened?

"Well, now I'll feel bad about leaving you later." You spoke up, searching for a mug in the limited cabinet space.

"Oh, you shouldn't. I trust you'll have a good time. Renee was sweet. Just..."

"Yeah, yeah..." You pretended to understand, having no clue what George was being so weird about. "Want some of the world's most mediocre coffee?" You laughed, pouring yourself a cup to enjoy the morning, well, afternoon by this point.

The weather was a bit gloomy again, but the rain held off, giving you the perfect chance to whip out a set of playing cards on the balcony barely big enough to fit either of you together. When the time came to start getting ready, you were conflicted.

"You won't feel bad if I go?" You asked. Because George had basically been following your lead this whole trip, even asking if you were happy with the little things he thought up to do, before going about doing them.

"I'll be perfectly happy so long as you are." George did little to persuade you one way or another, which was funny considering how he'd coaxed you into giving Aureo a little attention the day before.

Ultimately, you got ready to go out. The cooking instructor had given you an address to meet up with him after his workday ended, and after a quick google search, you found it was a pretty popular night club. As you slid into an outfit, you almost wondered if you should invite George along. But as soon as the thought passed through your mind, so did a million other reasons why that was a bad idea.

"How's this?" You genuinely worried over how you looked, rushing to stand still in the doorway of the room you'd been occupying. George was stood in the kitchen, sporting joggers, holding a glass of water in one hand, and a new, old tattered book in the other.

"Oh.... you, well..." The guy looked you up and down, failing to come up with an assured answer. That was what you'd expected, a simple yes or no, maybe even a reason for whatever answer he'd chosen. Like always. But he just stated different conjunctions while you pulled at the hem of a dress you weren't sure how to feel about.

"Well, it'll have to do. I'm late." You sighed, hurrying to fetch your room key from the counter and fasten your shoes on. Aureo was probably already waiting up for you outside of the nightclub he insisted on showing you too, after you'd asked.

"Right well, see ya." George watched you scurry out into the hallway with a quick wave.

On your speed walk down the stairs, you couldn't help but kick yourself for not giving George a proper goodbye, even if you were in a rush. You'd felt so conflicted, leaving him. You didn't have a doubt he'd be happy on his own, but you'd come to function as some kind of team on this trip. Leaving seemed unnatural.

///

Aureo was standing in a well fitted, casual suit jacket with matching short cuffed trousers. His already brilliant features lit up when he saw you hurrying to cross the street.

As you met up with him you apologized for being late, feeling a bit bashful as he stepped even closer to hear you speak. His accent added something even more enchanting to his already velvety voice, when he assured it was fine and how excited he was to show you to his favorite club in the city.

The way his emerald green eyes traveled across your figure before he complimented your dress made you weak in the knees. His warm hand across the small of your back as he guided you inside.

There were three levels you could see, people dancing close to massive speakers, leaning over the rails of each floor to wave to their friends above and below. The lights were dim except every now and again when they flashed to the beat of some decently enjoyable pop music.

The bar wrapped around three corners, liquor decorating the walls of the lower level. That's where you headed first, insisting Aureo order you something he enjoyed best since this was his scene.

Some fancy mixed drink slid across the counter soon after he'd ordered as if they'd been expecting him. It wasn't long before your own drink came, some electric blue liquid in a crystal glass.

That's how the night started, taking some time to enjoy your drink before Aureo pulled you toward the dance floor. He was good, of course, and you didn't even have time to worry over the steps you were missing as he guided you along. It was stupidly fun, spinning around, bumping into people who'd laughed because they'd just bumped into you as well. Spirits were high, and between songs, you kept going back for more drinks.

Every pause, Aureo talked about cooking. You happily listened, trying to soak up everything about your surroundings at once.

You were a few drinks in, and the room was already close to spinning. But you were having so much fun. You slammed back another electric blue drink and twirled back to the dance floor.

There was something about the bass line in the chorus of Justin Timberlake's "Filthy" that you couldn't resist. And the floor was packed with dancers who must have felt the same. As you went on trying your best not to lose Aureo in the crowd while simultaneously losing yourself to the music, you felt your alcoholic haze turn into a fever of sorts.

As you raced away from the music, there was a mile-long line to either restroom, so you headed straight for the back exit.

You spilled out into a long dark alley where dumpsters lived. There were distant bouts of laughter coming from smokers at either end, so you spun between a trash can and a discarded broken shelf and proceeded to get sick.

It was an unceremonious end to your efforts to have a blast. And what was worse, how you still felt dizzy and down.

It wasn't long before Aureo came to check on you. He was the perfect gentleman, holding your hair back for round two and asking what you needed.

You apologized several hundred times for ruining the fun when you decided it was best just to go back to your hotel. You asked Aureo if you could make it up to him in a day or so. You were drunk enough to speak without considering your offer but sober enough from your episode that you managed to pull yourself together to go back where you came from.

Aureo insisted on giving you a ride back, fretting over getting you home safe. You were drunk enough to accept his ride without worry and sober enough to give him directions.

The guy put his number in your phone when you pulled up to the hotel because you felt the need to make up for the way you ended the night. You wanted a redo. And this way seemed like a common courtesy by now...

Aureo insisted on walking you up to the room, he seemed truly worried over your well being, and that endeared you to him more than you already had been.

"I'll call you, okay?" you promised the guy while you unlocked your hotel door, after thanking him for being so kind and bringing you back. He nodded, those pretty emerald eyes searching yours as you slipped inside after saying goodbye.

The lights were off in the tiny common area, and you focused all your energy on creeping back to your room without disturbing the peace. You failed by running into the corner, steadying yourself with a whine as you opened your bedroom door.

"Are you alright?"

You were caught.

"Sorry if I woke you up." You spoke low, even though there was no point in keeping quiet now that George was standing near your side, speaking gently to you.

"You're back quite early," George went on, seeming worried over how you sulked in the doorway after pushing open your bedroom door.

"Yeah... I just don't feel good." You admitted. But you didn't feel sick anymore. You just felt tired. You actually felt a lot like you had when you'd drank too much before, when your head filled up and nothing made sense.

With a gentle, "Come on." George pushed you further into your bedroom. You slumped onto the unmade bed, unlacing your shoes in an impressive hurry. George was gone when you looked up again, tossing each shoe across the room. You fell against your pillows with a sorry groan, shutting your eyes, and wondering if you'd made some kind of mistake tonight.

That's when George shuffled back in, quiet as a mouse. You kept your eyes shut, but heard him rest a glass of water on your bedside table. The sound of your door creaking shut made your heart sink.

When you thought to yourself how badly you wished George would have stayed by your side, you realized the depths of the shit you were in. You realized exactly why you felt so bad. You couldn't ignore it anymore.

You wanted so much more from George, and he was already giving you more than you deserved.

───※ ·❆· ※───

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfic

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revchainsaw · 4 years ago

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Demon Wind (1990)

Greetings and blessings upon you my flock! Welcome to the Cult of Cult. I am your pastor and priest of pop culture, ordained minister of genre films, the good reverend Chainsaw McGraw. You may just call me Reverend Chainsaw. Come and accept our sacrament upon the altar of online internet reviews. Our first holy offering is an absolute treasure, 1990′s Demon Wind. An offering ripped from the blood inked pages of the Evil Dead’s Necronomicon Ex Mortis, Demon Wind is not quite an unofficial entry into the world of Ash and the Deadites, but if you have exhausted the Catalogue of Sam Raimi Horror flicks (and let’s be honest, if you’re reading a Tumblr review of Demon Wind, you probably have), then Demon Wind will scratch that itch for sure.

The Message

Our anointed offering opens upon a boarded up farm house owned by simple country occultists George and Regina Carter. There’s a Mean Girls reference to be made here. George and Regina are defending their homestead from an unseen force (A Demon Wind some might say) through a Christian/Witchcraft combination of gospel music, a set of holy daggers, and a diary full of Regina’s spells. Unfortunately it’s not very effective, and George is possessed. George kills Regina, drops a snow globe, and for some inexplicable reason the farmhouse explodes bringing the films epilogue to a close.

With that we are brought to the year 1990 where our rag tag group of heroes converge upon the supernaturally supercharged Carter farm with one mission in mind, helping a homie sort out his shit. What a great group of friends; I can barely get the crew together for a game night but our protagonist Cory has a group of friends so tight they are willing to drop everything and drive untold miles to nowhere in particular just because he had a bad dream. Speaking of “tight” friends, of our doomed party, no friends are so tight as Chuck and Stacey, but we’ll get to that, in short order. Let us meet the fellowship of ding dongs who will battle the blustery bogeys of Demon Wind.

Cory is the star of the show. A fairly blasé everyman who’s so caught up in his chosen one journey that he can’t even bother to be slightly interesting. He is the grandchild of the oh so fetch (see I got to it) Regina/George pairing from earlier in the film. Cory is haunted by mysterious dreams, and a tragic reunion with his demented father, which draw him to the Carter farm. There is however more to meets the eye, you see Cory is from the planet Namek. Watch the movie, you’ll catch my drift.

Elaine is Cory's girlfriend and wants nothing more than to pull her pants down in public to bring a smile to his face.

Dell is Cory’s friend? Bully? Enemy? it’s not entirely clear. It seems Dells role in this story is to be an unabashed asshole and chauvinist to every character that interacts with him. He is also perhaps Elaine’s brother, or someone's brother. Listen, you’d have to pay wayyyy more attention than this movie warrants to parse out all the relationship dynamics in this flick. Let’s just say, Dell is here, and despite how he acts, the other characters seem to be ok with that fact.

Terri is Dell’s girlfriend and a good friend of Elaine. Despite being on the arm of a typical 80s teen flick bad guy, Terri seems to be the most eligible bachelorette on the Carter farm. Or so it may seem, but as I’ll explain later I think there is a truer love than can be expressed that really keeps Terri from leaving Dell.

Jack is a Big Ol’ Nerd. He speaks like the writers were convinced using a thesaurus was enough to convince us that the guy is existentially unfuckable. The guy is basically just Billy from Power Rangers, but instead of piloting a badass Triceratops Zord he just kids very mildly bummed when the love of his life is transformed into a very judgmental spontaneously combusting doll.

Speaking of spontaneously combusting dolls, the victim of that very unfair end is Bonnie. Bonnie clearly had way more confidence in the love of her bookish beaux than she should have. The betrayal is immense, not that Jack couldn’t save her, but just in the fact that when she meets her demise (despite the fact that he promised he’d protect her) he is not at all distraught. Poor Bonnie, she is by far the most human feeling of the cardboard cut out female protagonists in this film and she deserved better. Let’s be honest, Jack was looking for an out, and Bonnie was just too real for this movie.

And Now, without further ado, I’d like to introduce the greatest power couple in the history of B Movie Horror Cinema: Chuck and Stacy. If you think my introduction is a bit much, I promise that the film goes much further. Demon Wind begins it’s love affair with this bromance in delightfully extravagant style. There’s magic, explosions, opera, karate, beer and bunnies and a big ol middle finger to fucking Dell. Chuck had at once been romantically involved with Terri, but things went south somehow and he claims that he still holds a flame for her. Despite this continued insistence I think it’s plain to see that Chuck found comfort, magic, and a ride or die hunk in the arms of Stacey. Stacey is a suave, sharp, smooth talking guy, whose only desire in life seems to be whatever keeps Chuck around, and that seems to mean a lot of stage magic and martial arts! I could write about Chuck and Stacey all day, so I’ll move on from here.

The cast of this film is wild and honestly even the weak ones are fun to watch. There is no character on the roster who is easy to mistake for another. That is why it is so fun to watch them meet their demise and even more fun to see them return under the possession of the demon wind as oopy goopy caricatures of their human selves. And this does go on for quite awhile. Unfortunately even Chuck and Stacey are not enough to protect the surreal landscape in which they find themselves. At one point in the film a second set of friends drop by to add 2 more bodies to the massacre. Willy and Reena, a gangly set of clothing accessories who are given legs, but hey Ear Ring and Beret, I mean Willy and Reena are still fun to see torn to shreds.

The movie ultimately reveals that the madness was sparked by the fact that a cult worshipping a Demon God named Delos had actually built the homestead and the cursed ground they stand upon is the stage for the cult leader, a preacher named Anders to finally become the host of said Demon God. As interesting as that lore may sound on paper, it’s not particularly well executed, and Cory’s role to play in all of this is even more vague. All in all the 3rd act of this film feels a bit anti-climatic even if it does feature a demon superhero fight.

All that said I’d like to move on to the next phase of our sacred liturgy. The sacred and profane, the highs and lows of this movie.

Benediction

Best Feature: What the What?

The best feature of Demon Wind has to be how bizarre it is. It throws everything it can think of at the audience. Burning Skeletons leap from Crosses, eggs that hatch into piles of worms, EXPLODING BABY DOLLS, Cow skulls with long sticky tongues made of human intestines! They certainly sacrificed logic in order to insure they provided the audience with something they haven’t seen before.

Best Kill/ effect: A Cowmen Album Cover!

The best effect in Demon Wind is also it’s best kill. while investigating a barn on the Carter property, which is full of occult symbols, animal remains, and fun Texas Chainsaw Massacre style crafts. One of the crafts catches the eye of Beret, I mean Reena. You know by her hat that she knows a thing or to about fine art. This particular piece of barn décor is a human skeleton with a cow’s skull. As she is inspecting this “beautiful” piece, what appears to be a human intestine, flies from the mouth of the cow skull and wraps around Reena like a chameleons tongue. The intestine begins to retreat into the jaw of the skull bringing Reena’s head along with it. The skull chomps down into Reena, we get a satisfyingly bloody show, and Reena’s body winds up hanging limp from its mouth.

Second place belongs to Bonnie, but we’ve already spoken to that bizarre spectacle.

Best Scene: I Now Pronounce you Chuck and Stacey!

Chuck and Stacey enter the scene. I know I’m inconsistent in how I spell Stacey/Stacy. This scene was mentioned above and you just have to see it. Watch until Cory intervenes.

Best Character(s): Stacey Cassidy and the Sundance Chuck

Stacey is the best character in this film, but as I’m sure he wouldn’t accept this honor alone I have to make it a tie. Chuck and Stacey are just so good. Every moment they are on screen is a treasure. The introduction of these two just received the honor of best scene, but they shine as Demons and in an even longer sequence leading to their demise. They take the watch at the Carter home and from the fog emerges a t!ddy ghost, my congregants will be familiar with this sort of creature, who attempts to lure them outside. Stacey puffs up Chucks confidence calling him “John Wayne”, Chuck proposes they go on a Tahitian vacation, but Stacey wisely wary of voodoo suggests Vegas. And there you have it, these two pure good boys are surviving this flick and they are getting married in Vegas. Unfortunately, they decide to speed things up a bit, and decide that although they are not tempted by the t!ddy ghost, that they can use their karate magic to defeat the demonic hordes. They march out into the woods, but we can add the power of love to the list of things that are no use against the Demon Wind. Our best boys meet their fates together like two old west heroes, guns blazing! Oh, oh, but they come back as demons and they eat Dell, so thank God for that.

Worst feature: I ordered these Deadites from Wish

The villains are not particularly interesting. It’s boring, goopy, bad mouth piece demons that have appeared in hundreds of demon flicks already by this point, and it really makes you want to go back to the unexplained paranormal happenings from earlier in the movie rather than fighting these dollar store Deadites. The fact that the film leans into this in it’s third act really makes the film feel incredibly front loaded.

Worst scene: Cory in the House

Pretty much any scene that focuses on Cory is a bit weak. He’s just not fun. He gets to transform into an anime character in the end of the film and he’s still melodramatic and boring. This is often a problem with main characters in films, the writers don’t want them to be unlikeable or too quirky so the fun parts are always the supporting cast.

Worst Character: Dude, you’re NOT getting a Dell!

Don’t get me wrong, I hate Dell. But Dell is a big dumb goon who is just so fun to watch suffer and act like an utter meathead, and being hateable is not the worst thing a character can be. For this reason I have to give the worst character award to Cory; for many of the reasons I spoke about above.

Summary:

How fitting that a B movie gets a B. But that’s really a great place for this movie to be. So many big Hollywood productions don’t deserve that spot. Though Demon Wind may drag in the middle, and the characters and effects may be quite corny, it is certainly not boring. Demon Wind is eye candy even though it looks so ugly. It has some of the most loveable murder lambs in the genre and one of my favorite bromances in all of cinema, If you are a fan of Gonzo Horror then Demon Wind is a must see. If you are not all that into that sort of thing I promise you’ll have a good time. I highly recommend it.

Overall Grade: B

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eamesandbellamyaremyheaven · 5 years ago

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Somewhere, Now and Then Ch3 || Arthur x Sansa (Kalots/GoT Outlander AU)

King Arthur: Legend of the Sword x Game of Thrones Outlander AU (there’s no such thing as canon)

Warnings: Violence, blood

Summary: England, 1945. After serving in the war as a nurse, Sansa Bolton (former Stark) seizes the opportunity of going on vacation with her husband Ramsay to rekindle their relationship. But what happens when Sansa finds herself travelling back in time, to the 6th century, where she meets the King Arthur and his Knights?

A.N.//- Needless to say, this is loosely based on the Outlander premise. The story is told through Guy Ritchie’s interpretation of the Arthurian legend, and for that locations and traditions - and the time itself - had to be adapted to work accordingly. Any questions you have, feel free to ask!

Prologue || Chapter One || Chapter two

Chapter Three - A Merry Group

Sansa leaned over the dark wood table, pushing books and old parchments aside as she gave them a quick look, noticing how the sunlight bathed the weathered paper, magnifying the familiar smell she had always been fond of.

The library was always Sansa’s favorite room from the Eyrie Manor. She had moved in in her aunt Lysa and her husband Petyr at the tender age of eleven, when her parents died, and had spent most of her time at that table, as Petyr recalled the tales and stories of Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.

The Moon Door, her uncle had named the room, it stood at an impressive height of twenty feet tall, in the least, and had book-filled shelves that covered most of the walls. But its name was due to the large skylight at the center of the room, a massive round glass window bay that was directly above the table, allowing both sun and moon to be as clear as a painting on the ceiling.

“So, what do you think of my discoveries?” Petyr inquired, expectantly, as Sansa examined the page in her hand “This is it, I can feel it”

Sansa looked from the paper to her mentor, arching her brow “Are you sure?”

Petyr walked towards her, holding her shoulders, shaking them lightly.

“Sansa, we found Camelot”

※※※※※

Sansa tried to find a rational explanation for everything she’d been through since she woke by the stones, but the truth was, as much as her skeptical mind tried to reason against it, she knew deep in her heart that she was no longer in the 20th century.

But where - when? - was she then? The historian in her was telling her she knew exactly where she was, and the logical was telling she was behaving like a fool.

It’s impossible she had travelled back in time!

Isn’t it?

Sansa watched as a small group of men followed Bill into the site, just as she had stopped the cut from bleeding. They were taken by surprise by her presence, they all eyed her with curiosity, but none dare to say a thing. Bill instructed them to gather wood and start a fire, and then he walked closer to where Sansa was tending Arthur.

“How’s he?”

Sansa turned her head around to face the man “I stopped the bleeding, but I still need to clean and disinfect the wound before I can dress it”

Bill stood motionless, with a blank expression.

“You know, remove the dirt and apply an agent that discourages germs and promotes the healing?”

Bill scratched the back of his head, oblivious to her meaning “Germs...?”

Sansa sighed “I need clean water, clean bandages and iodine”

He eyed her as she was speaking some foreign language.

“Merthiolate?” she tried again. No response.

“Dilute Carbolic?” she pressed, this time sounding more impatient. And yet, nothing.

“For fucks sake, do you have alcohol!?”

Shit.

She’d yelled this time, her patience long gone. Now everyone was looking at her with shocked expressions, even Bill looked surprised, wide-eyed... Was that a smirk on his face?

“There you go, miss, that we have plenty” A man approached her, pushing a flask of an heavily alcoholic mead towards her, the smell alone was enough to itch her nostrils

“Thank you...”

“Wetstick” he nodded, and then went back to his chores

Quickly they had gathered everything she needed, and Sansa was able clean the wound better, and see the damage properly. It wouldn’t require stitches after all, but there was still something unpleasant she needed to do...

“This will hurt” Sansa looked from the alcohol-drenched cloth to Arthur, who gave her a nod

“Just get on with it, Red”

She pressed the fabric against the open wound, and he flinch for a second, but quickly regained his composure. This is a man that’s used to the pain, she thought, as she dressed up his lower abdomen. She’d seem many, in the three years she spent in France. Soldiers. Fighters.

She noticed the exchange of looks between Arthur and Bill.

“Now that you’ve finished...” Arthur spoke, as he pushed his shirt down, his voice calm but domineering “Why don’t you tell us your name and what you’re doing here, alone, in the woods”

Sansa used the remaining of the water to wash the blood off her hands, while simultaneously thinking of what to say. She was a combat nurse, and any officer knows that the basic rule of withstanding an interrogation is to speak as truly and simple as possible, only leaving out essential details that must stay secret.

“My name is Sansa Stark” she had no idea why’d she gave her maiden name, but now she couldn’t take it back without sounding like she was hiding something “I was traveling from Salisbury with a manservant to visit relatives when we were set upon by highwaymen. I managed to escape but had to leave everything behind...” she paused, as she dried her hands, and since no one objected, she continued “I wandered through the woods for a while until I found myself thrown into your... quarrel with the vikings”

“To where”

“Excuse me?” Sansa turned towards the voice, it was of a man that stood watching from afar, a tall, strong figure of darker skin, who spoke slowly, yet very assertive

“To where were you traveling?”

“London”

“Don’t you mean Londinium?”

Londinium? As in the ancient city? What in the...

“Yes, of course” Why not? Whatever to have them off her back.

They seemed to ponder on her words, trying to find a flaw on her story. She waited, her head held high, trying to look as convincing as her story, but honestly, the events of the day had taken its toll. She was assaulted, beaten, nearly raped, and apparently, now under interrogation.

“We’ll take you back with us to the castle, from there you can easily get to Londinium” Arthur offered as he stood and walked towards the horses

Oh no.

“Thank you, but there’s no need..-” Sansa spoke quickly, feeling herself tensing. London was 90 miles away from the stones.

“It’s a day ride, and you’re on foot” He cut her off, as he walked back to her, pushing the cloak he held on his hands towards her “I insist”

※※※※※

The ride was difficult, to say the least. Since Sansa had no horse, Bill offered to take her with him. They left right after lunch, and rode until the sun started to set. Sansa was an experienced rider, her father used to own horses, but she had never rode so many hours at once. By the time she stepped down her horse, her back hurt like hell and her legs trembled like she had never took a step before in her life.

They set up camp at a clearing, on a small hill. They had supper - wild rabbit, courtesy of Bill - and by then everyone was already fast asleep around the bonfire.

Sansa rose from her spot, holding the cloak tighter. It was a beautiful night, with clear skies and bright stars, but it was also a cold night, the frost was settling in the grass and the autumn breeze chilled her exposed skin.

She zigzagged through the men carefully, hoping no one would hear or sense the movement. Once she was in the clear, she took a last glance towards the men, who stood still in deep slumber. She walked towards the edge of the cliff, that stood over a stream, raising her head towards the sky, as she took a deep breath.

As they ate, Arthur made a point of introducing her properly to the group. Bill was, in fact, Sir William Wilson - as in, Petyr’s ancestor - Wetstick was actually named Sir Tristan, the older man was Sir Bedivere and the two other man are Sir Percival and Sir George.

Sansa had the honour of travelling alongside King Arthur and his group of merry Knights, as he so humorously informed her, to which Bedivere snickered, Bill and Tristan snorted a chuckle, George remained serene and Percival sulked. A merry group, indeed.

Sansa looked towards the horizon, as far as her eyes could see. There should be lights ahead - electric lights, that is. But the night was pitch black, with the exception of the starry sky and the grand full moon.

Somehow, Sansa had managed to travel through the stones, and back in time, into the Arthurian era. She couldn’t deny it anymore. Petyr would be proud of her. Or jealous.

“You’re not considering jumping, are you?”

Sansa yelped, startled, turning around quickly towards the voice. Arthur stood at a short distance from her, but not close enough to make her uncomfortable.

A sly smirk passed through his lips as he crossed his arms in front of his chest “I had to go after you and the water seems bloody freezing”

“And risk you open your wound again? Just sounds like more trouble for me” Sansa added, mimicking his gesture, then nodding her head “Does it hurt?”

“A bit, yes”

“Good” she spoke cheeky, and he laughed, carefree and wholehearted. She’s disarmed by the sound of it, and briefly smiles back at him, but immediately tried to cover it, adjusting her cloak tighter around her shoulders.

Arthur uncrossed his arms, extending one hand towards the camp “You should try to get some rest, tomorrow we’ll ride longer, if we’re to make back to Camelot before the sun sets”

Camelot.

Petyr had been wrong about the whereabouts of the legendary castle, after all. Sansa wanted to believe that one day she might show him the exact location of it, but the further she travelled from the stones, the less she believed she would ever return back, to her family, to Ramsay, to her own time. Back to where she belonged.

Taglist is OPEN! @anonymousme86 @goodqueenkaro @purple-moon123 @elvensansa

#sansa x arthur #sansa stark #arthur pendragon #king arthur legend of the sword #game of thrones #outlander au #time travel au #crossover #sansa stark fanfiction #sansa stark imagine #arthur pendragon imagine #arthur pendragon fanfiction #eabamh masterlist #somewherenowandthen

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michael-weinstein · 4 years ago

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What depression tells me

NOTE: The title is a paraphrase on titles Mahler used to give to movements of his 3rd Symphony.

Well, I got my depression back. Again, school is to blame for this (mainly). Tons of assignments and expectations. This arrived almost at the most terrible moment. Yesterday (I’ll keep it short, for means of privacy), 2 members of our server left, and so would a third were it not for the fact that she founded the server, and didn’t want it to go to dust. No fights really (at least as I understand it), but simply mental health, anger and study preoccupations. As the ego-centric person which I always hope never to be, but deep down always am (which is frankly human and almost natural), I needed support this time, and the three that decided to take the time off, two are the better-acquainted with me from the entire six. In addition, they will feel missing, that something is wrong.

That’s absolutely the right thing to have when I have a monstrous history assignment to hand in in 3 months from now (in stages), trying to catch up with math homework, and having a Bible assignment, which is not as big, but is still annoying.

Now, I have a confession to make, and it’s the first time I’m letting out in a public sphere (or people that aren’t closest to me): I have autism. Always had it. Rather low on the spectrum. But here’s the interesting thing: whenever I panic, or suicidal or whatever, I never think first of autism, or at least I don’t consider it seriously. I always think I’m wrong because I have some kind of neurotic psychological disorder which needs to be cured. Or maybe I belong to the psychiatric ward. My mindset is that I am mad, but I don’t have autism. I’m just a regular madman.

Anyway, because of this specialty (that is, the autism), ever since 1st grade I have been with a small number of kids in a seperate group along with also participating in the main class. Over ther years, the number of classes spent with the seperate “little” class (as it’s used in our lingo) diminished in favor of the “regular”, “big” class, but it never entirely disappears.

Why did I tell you all of this? Because a shutdown started in September (it kinda finished now, but not really?), and during it, the “little class” members could arrive to certain hours in the morning to study online from there, and get assistance in homework and assignments. Until the beginning of this month, I denied going there, because I wanted to avoid school physically as much as I could. The problem was that, even though I could go to synagogue on holidays (more about that probably in another post), and I would walk the dog nearly twice a week, I didn’t get out of the house, and I became depressed. Eventually, on the 1st of November, I decided to take the day off. I had nearly 12 math homeworks to hand in, as well as nearly 6 Bible assignments. I decided, eventually, to try to go to school the next day and see how things go. I came back home that day much more relieved and useful. I felt this could really help me.

My “little class” teacher, however, has been much more nudging than she had been before the pandemic. This just got on my nerves, she became irritating. My first days in school learning online were fine, because I was feeling better mentally, but now I just want her to leave me alone (remember that phrase, don’t you?), and have her stop asking me what assignments I have left, and telling me to get done with them.

Last night, I needed to do some math (geometry, unfortunately, as it is my weak point). While doing it, I decided to draw out a musical doomsday weapon I haven’t used yet. For the past few weeks, I have been looking outside the obsessive Shostakovich box, looking a bit for the Second Viennese School and Mahler, looking for remedies in Wagner, Schubert and (briefly) Bruckner, as well as Berlioz and Liszt. I decided to draw a work incredibly important for me, ever since I came to know of it 2 years ago, but which I haven’t actually listened to in a long time - Alban Berg’s opera Wozzeck.

Wozzeck, an opera based on a somewhat-unfinished play of roughly the same name by Georg Büchner, is named after its title character, a soldier, who goes quasi-moralistic tirades from his captain, and earns money as a subject for the experiments of his merciless military doctor. After some while, he begins to hallucinate and turns mad. In addition, his life partner Marie (they’re not married, but they have a son, declared “illegitimate” by the captain) starts flirting with the better-looking (though not necesarily younger!) drum major. Wozzeck recieves these news step by step, first by further humiliations from the captain and doctor, then he sees Marie and the drum major waltzing in a tavern, and finally with a humiliating boast of the drunk drum major himself that night in the barracks. So, driven to his nth degree of insanity, he murders Marie, and while trying to hide the evidences, drowns in the nearby pond.

Marie, however, isn’t a selfish whore. She has been trying to hide the affair from Wozzeck, and feels sympathy for him. In addition, she has a real love to her son, and has deep religious feelings, as illustrated in a scene where she reads from the Bible on Mary Magdalene and Jesus, where he forgives her, and Marie (notice the symbolism?) cries out for forgiveness. In the same scene, however, she practically prophesizes the son’s future (I made a photo with that caption). The last scene, straight after Wozzeck’s drowning, is preceeded by a 3-minute orchestral interlude, based on a sonata fragment that Berg composed while he was studying with Schoenberg. It’s a practical lament for people unrecognized, not treated properlly, and having this opera being composed in the aftermath of World War I, it’s also a funeral to the old world, being crushed by global war and then by the Spanish flu. The curtain then rises, on a scene of children, among them Wozzeck and Marie’s son riding a hobby horse, singing a German equivalent of “Ring-a-ring-a-roses” (guess what this is subtexting). A group of other children then runs in, telling they found Marie dead in a pond. Despite having been told it straight to his face, he keeps going on the hobby-horse, uncomprehending. While everyone else rushes to investigate, he limps on with his hobby horse to discover the bad end. It is simply heartbreaking.

I’ve come to know Wozzeck nearing the end of 8th grade (I’m currently in 11th), and fell in love with it, and also studied it partially from the excellent book written on it by George Perle. Both its music with its Mahlerian legacy (Berg has often been called the most “accessible” member of the Second Viennese School), and the plot, with its anti-glamorous location and short cut scenes. And I also immediately identified with the character of Wozzeck. A man with a highly wild sense of imagination, crushed by the norms and conventions of society, not taken care of properly, somebody who’s cared about only to be condemned. It’s an identification both potent and dangerous.

I’m now currently fearing that I am becoming a Wozzeck myself. I always had that fear to a certain extent, but now I understand better the grave consequences of this. To begin with, coronavirus itself made us locked at home and all our basics which we used to take for granted are now elevated to a high degree of importance, all while trying to keep through a world of Kafkaesque hypocrisy and alienation. Then the education system reacted to that in a bad way, either intentionally or unitentionally, and I’m currently being swamped with assignments and homework. And remember this is 11th grade, there are lots of tests to arrive too, and how are these going to take place? In short, it’s hard to keep yourself intact.

All of these are just potent ingridients for disaster and insanity, and I’m feeling more than ever before the idea of becoming a Wozzeck, and I don’t want that.

PS: This post was originally written last week. Somehow I forgot to submit it until now, when it was in my inbox! (lol)

#alban berg #wozzeck #corona time #coronatime #submission

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eefiplier · 4 years ago

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thanks @efe-uno for tagging me! < 3

RULES: describe yourself with pictures you already have saved. no downloading or searching for new ones. then tag people. (i basically tag everyone who sees this and wants to do it)

ok everyone buckle up its gon be a wild ride

this is my profile pic in pretty much every other social media except for tumblr so i just HAD to include it. also george is a big part of my personality

whispers im the kid

this is actually me. not having english as your first language + having adhd do that to you. i thought it was really fucken funny thats why i saved it ok bye

its so hilarious omfg the look in its eyes--

adding this to the list SOLELY for my 2 russian followers. i see you and i love you.

cat

literally me lately

tag yourself im perro grande

i have a minecraft horse named george

just. i love the boys. look at them. theyre so happy--

#its 2 am #tag game

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tarontherocketman · 5 years ago

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OK IF YOU WERE ON THE INTERNET IN THE 2011-2012 ERA OR JUST WANT W LAUGH, READ THIS ISTG I JUST FOUND MY OLD FANFICTION.NET BIO

HAHAHA OK so I just managed to sniff out my old fanfiction.net account with a bit of trial and error searching and I am WHEEZING. It's so chaotic but also so fitting for the 2011 "random xD :L" vibe, I would have been 13 in 2011 btw

1. I love that for my "5 traits" thing I literally picked 5 traits straight from the sims 3 create a sim, like??? Neat, virtuoso, good sense of humour, absent minded, athletic PAH ok Natt

2. I wasn't the "world's biggest Charlie Wheeler fan" I didnt even watch so you think you can dance, Charlie came to my secondary school a few times to do stuff with the dance students and I thought he was hot, picture of me and him below ew I used to treasure this photo

3. WHY DID I INCLUDE "MY CAT HAS AN OVERACTIVE THYROID AND HALF OF HIS FACE IS PARALYSED SO BASICALLY HES A BIT OF A SPAC" HAHAHAH I have no words

4. ALSO, "I USED TO HAVE A GINGER KITTEN CALLED GEORGE BUT HE DIED AT THE AGE OF 2 WHICH IS UNFORTUNATE, SAD FACE" WHAT!!!

honestly this whole bio just screamed 2011 and its sENDING ME bc look how different life is 9 years on! It's not how I expected it because when I was 13 I thought 22 was really old and I'd be married with children PAHA but nope I'm still a fan girl writing fics for my fandom but never in a million years did I think my fandom would be Elton John related considering back then I just thought he was weird and didnt really care who he was, now HERE WE ARE. Plus, back then these were my fandoms:

Very soon after this I was heavily in the one direction fandom and posted my fanfiction for them on wattpad, then when I was 16 until the age of 19 it was kpop on asianfanfics.com, then I didnt have a fandom for 2 years bc I was busy moving out of my parents with my ex, then May last year I'd just got broken up with so my parents invited me to tag along with them to the cinema because they wanted to see rocketman, I wasnt really interested but I lived alone so I went because of boredom, now here we are! It's been a wild ride😏

If anyone else has an old cringey fanfiction.net bio PLEASE show me I LOVE IT

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spottlightt · 4 years ago

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#03 Mary Poppins Musical Show

Mary Poppins is a 1964 musical fantasy film directed by Robert Stevenson and produced by Walt Disney.

This musical show is fundamentally from the film itself where In Edwardian London, 1910, George Banks gets back at Cherry Tree Lane to gain from his significant other, Winifred, that Katie Nanna has left their administration after their kids, Jane and Michael, have fled, "For the fourth time this week," "Life I Lead". They are returned not long after by Constable Jones, who uncovers the kids were pursuing a lost kite. The kids request that their dad helped construct a superior kite, yet he excuses them. Willingly volunteering to recruit another caretaker, Mr. Banks promotes for a harsh, straightforward caretaker. To difference, Jane and Michael present their commercial for a kinder, better caretaker. Winifred attempts to keep harmony. Mr. Banks tears up the letter and tosses the pieces in the chimney, yet a solid breeze draws the parts up through the smokestack and into the air.

The following day, various old, harsh confronted caretakers stand by outside the Banks' home, however, a solid whirlwind overwhelms them, and Jane and Michael witness a youthful babysitter dropping from the sky utilizing her umbrella. Introducing herself to Mr. Banks, Mary Poppins creates the kids' reestablished notice and concurs with its solicitations yet guarantees the flabbergasted broker she will be steadfast with his youngsters. As Mr. Banks puzzles over the notice's return, Mary Poppins employs herself, and she persuades him it was initially his thought. She meets the youngsters and encourages them mystically clean their nursery by snapping her fingers, prior to taking off for a stroll in the recreation center "Spoonful of Sugar".

Outside, they meet Mary's old companion, Bert, functioning as a screever; Mary Poppins utilizes her sorcery to ship the gathering into one of his drawings. While the youngsters ride on a merry go round, Mary Poppins and Bert go on a relaxed walk. Together, they sing "Cheerful Holiday", and Bert plays with Mary Poppins. After the pair gets together with the youngsters, Mary Poppins captivates the merry go round ponies; Bert salvages a fox from a fox chase; they partake in a pony race which Mary wins. Portraying her triumph, Mary Poppins utilizes the jabber word "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious." The excursion is finished when a rainstorm disintegrates Bert's drawings, restoring the gathering to London.

The following day, the three meet Bert's odd Uncle Albert, who has coasted not yet decided on account of his wild chuckling and they go along with him for a casual get-together on the roof with loads of jokes "I Love to Laugh". Subsequently, Mr. Banks gets irritated by the family's sprightly climate, and he takes steps to fire Mary Poppins, however, she controls him into taking the kids to his working environment, the bank, the following day. That night, Mary tells the offspring of the one who sits by St Paul's basilica selling fowl "Feed The Birds" Mr. Banks does as such, and the kids meet Mr. Dawes. Mr. Dawes forcefully encourages Michael to put his tuppence in the bank, eventually grabbing the coins from Michael. "Loyalty Fiduciary Bank" Michael requests them back; different clients catch the contention, and they all start requesting their cash back, causing a bank run.

Jane and Michael escape the bank, becoming mixed up in the East End until they again get together with Bert, presently functioning as a fireplace clear, who accompanies them home ("Chim Cheree"). The three and Mary Poppins adventure onto the housetops, where they have a routine number with other fireplace clears, which pours out into the Banks' home ("Step in Time") after Admiral Boom shoots firecrackers at them, confusing them with burglars. Mr. what's more, Mrs. Banks re-visitation of home to discover Bert's companions moving in their home and sends them away. Mr. Banks at that point gets a call from the bank mentioning a gathering with him about what the kids did, the kids catch the call understanding that their dad is in a tough situation, Bert even tells Mr. Banks that he needs to invest more energy with his youngsters before they grow up ("A Man Has Dreams"). The youngsters give their dad Michael's tuppence in the want to present appropriate reparations.

Mr. Banks strolls through London to the bank, where he is given a mortifying cashiering and is excused. Seeking the tuppence for words, he exclaims "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious", makes a quip, and cheerfully heads home. Mr. Dawes thinks about the joke and, at last, getting it, coasts very high, snickering.

The following day, the breeze changes, which means Mary Poppins must leave. A more joyful Mr. Banks is found at home, having fixed his kids' kite, and takes the family out to fly it. In the recreation center, the Banks family meets Mr. Dawes' child, Mr. Dawes Jr., who uncovers his dad kicked the bucket giggling from the joke. "We should Go Fly a Kite". Albeit at first heartbroken, Mr. Banks before long gets glad for him since Mr. Dawes Jr. had never observed his dad more joyful in his life and re-utilizes Mr. Banks as a lesser accomplice. With her work done, Mary Poppins closes the film by taking off with Bert advising her not to remain away excessively long.

Here’s some shot of me and the main casts on stage.

I officially joined and performed to musical show call Mary Poppin Musical Show in 2015. Being on stage with variety of characters, it would be very challenging. As I have no basic background of acting or dancing industry, I was tempted to join the show because I might ruin it even though I was just small character and extra performer. Ps. that was me the girl with white top smiling so brightly (happy to performed..damn I looked like an idiot)

This bunch of girls or women were the “extra” actress to support the scene. We were just giving expression and reacted to every of the cast’s line. Afterward when the music cue we were just dancers of the show. This was the scene where the children learnt the word “supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” from Mary Poppins. (If you spotted me which one I am then you good, if you are not, I’m not blaming you, I looked different in these pictures).

#ubdax3305 #ax3305 #marry poppins #musicalshow

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ashtray-girl · 5 years ago

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Songs that are about Johnny Marr (probably)

THE SMITHS

The Smiths

Hand In Glove → the lyrics are about a deep friendship and Johnny himself said he thinks it’s about his relationship with Morrissey because they were “only hanging out with each other at the time”.

Meat Is Murder

I Want The One I Can’t Have → all about unrequited love. A possible reference in the title to Elizabeth Smart’s novella By Grand Central Station I Sat Down And Wept – “I want the one I want.” Also: “Meet me in the Alley” is a 1972 song by John Mars.

Well I Wonder → a desperate plea by Morrissey for someone to keep him in mind. There are several loans from By Grand Central Station... (which by the way is about a deeply emotional, doomed and unrequited love), namely: “Well I wonder, do you hear me when you sleep?” / “Is it possible he can not hear me when he lies so close, so lightly asleep?” , “My dear, my darling, do you hear me when you sleep?” “This is the fierce last stand of what I am.” This song was never performed live and Johnny said it was because they were afraid they wouldn’t be able to capture its full magic, which makes sense, but I also get the feeling that this song was particularly special to both Morrissey and Johnny, for reasons which went beyond its lyricism and music.

The Queen Is Dead

I Know It’s Over → conceived just a few months after Johnny married his girlfriend Angie while The Smiths were on tour in the US. Morrissey was Johnny’s witness. The lyrics mention a wedding and a failed relationship that “never really began” because “love is natural and real, but not for such as you and I, my love” (where “natural and real” could easily be interpreted as “straight”.)

The Boy With The Thorn In His Side → even though Morrissey said that this was a song about his tormented relationship with the music industry (that being the “thorn” in his side), in my opinion there’s also another interpretation. Just as in Well I Wonder, there are a few loans from By Grand Central Station… namely: “How can they see the love in our eyes and still they don’t believe us?” / “They intercepted our glances because of what was in our eyes.” “And if they don’t believe us now, will they ever believe us?” / “Did they see such flagrant proof and still not believe?”. These are especially relevant because they come from a point in the book in which the author is specifically talking about her love for a married man (poet George Barker) and about how they were attempting to see each other in spite of that, which caused them to get arrested while together in Arizona for “moral turpitude”.

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out → references being driven around in someone’s car. Morrissey and Johnny apparently used to go on long car rides together, Morrissey talked about how he found cars to be “erotic” and there are multiple examples of that in his lyrics (see This Charming Man, That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore etc.). Also, the lyrics are, once again, about unrequited love.

Strangeways Here We Come (the pining here was at its finest imo)

A Rush And A Push And The Land Is Ours → the title is a reference to a traditional Irish rallying call which Oscar Wilde’s mother, who wrote Irish nationalist prose and poetry, used to urge the Irish to rise up against the British army. “Some eighteen months ago” could be a reference to Oscar Wilde being sentenced to hard labor for soliciting male prostitutes. The lyrics are about the “pain and strain” of being in love despite not wanting to. Also, the way he sings “so phone me, phone me” sounds like he’s saying “f*ck me”. (I thought I was the only one who thought that, but apparently not.)

I Started Something I Couldn’t Finish → the lyrics are about going too far with someone who can’t/doesn’t want to be pushed. Another reference to “eighteen months’ hard labor”. The “Okay Stephen, do that again” at the end is aimed at producer Stephen Street, but Morrissey is also called Steven. Why was that left in the recording? Was it fully intentional? Who wants Stephen to do what again? Maybe the other person mentioned in the song doesn’t actually mind being pushed out of their comfort zone by Morrissey, they just lack the courage to seal the whole deal for whatever reason.

Girlfriend In A Coma → according to the lyrics, Morrissey doesn’t seem to like this woman, yet he feels guilty about it and doesn’t wish her ill. Could this be a reference to Angie Marr, who he sees as an obstacle between him and Johnny, despite having a good opinion of her as a person?

Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before → by now, Morrissey may have realized that he has written an awful lot about being in love with someone who doesn’t reciprocate. Also, his love for this other person must be so obvious by now, he’s said almost everything on the subject and yet he still wants to make clear that: “Nothing’s changed, I still love you, only slightly less than I used to, my love.” By now, his working relationship with Johnny was starting to deteriorate. Another interesting note is: “Oh, who said I’d lied to her because I never? I never!”. While this is grammatically incorrect, it’s also a common way of speaking in most Northern cities, so this reads like a quote that someone may have uttered at some point and this may be why, when called out on it, Morrissey said it was meant to be written that way. It’s worth pointing out how Morrissey liked to correct Johnny’s grammar in interviews and he even mentioned in his Autobiography how Johnny’s way of speaking was “shockingly bad”.

Death At One’s Elbow → the song’s title was taken from the diaries of 60s playwright Joe Orton, beaten to death with a hammer by his lover Kenneth Halliwell. Johnny’s opinion on the song was ambivalent. He stated that: “It was good sometimes to have a track that wasn’t trying to win the war like There Is A Light That Never Goes Out,” he said. "It was almost like, ‘We have the right to be slightly less intense.’ I liked Morrissey’s singing and I liked my own backing vocals” and yet, when asked by Johnny Rogan about it for his book Morrissey & Marr: The Severed Alliance, he sounded much less pleased with it, saying: “Oh God, did we really write that?”.

I Won’t Share You → widely believed by everyone to be about Morrissey’s possessive feelings towards Johnny (who not only didn’t mind, but seemed actually quite pleased about it).

Others

Wonderful Woman → It was originally titled “What Do You See In Him?” and included lyrics such as: “Cheat the Life out of me as you walk hand in hand / And I try, and I try, but I will never understand / What do you see in her?” “That she will plague you / And I will be glad / Yes, she will leave you / And I will be glad.” The final version, albeit quite different, is still about a woman who seems quite unpleasant but to whom the protagonist feels irresistibly drawn to. With the final: “When she calls me I do not walk, I run” there’s an acknowledgment of co-dependence in the relationship but, even though the first person is used, this could have been a way to write from someone else’s point of view. Specifically, the boyfriend of someone with a very domineering personality. (Basically, he’s writing from Johnny’s perspective).

Ask → the lyrics are about being too shy to make a move on someone, yet Morrissey seems to be eager to take on board whatever the other person has in mind. There’s pining and there’s the possibility of a relationship which looks promising but never amounts to anything substantial because the people involved don’t have the courage to take it any further, despite wanting to.

These Things Take Time → mentions of a relationship which is impeded by the fact that the other person is engaged to someone else (“I’m spellbound, but a woman divides”). Johnny was already with Angie at the time. “And the hills are alive with celibate cries”. Morrissey had been talking to the press about being celibate and not really interested in romantic/sexual relationships, but the fact that the object of his desire was someone he knew he couldn’t have could have been part of the reason why he felt he had to take that stance. Also, it seems like he already felt like this relationship wouldn’t last, with the other person “leaving him behind” in the end.

Is It Really So Strange? → I’m not so sure about this one, but I’m including it because the lyrics are about traveling from North to South and about loving someone in spite of unfavorable circumstances. Also, according to Johnny (from Mozipedia): “Road trips were a big part of the group. We opted to live in Manchester most of the time but were always traveling back and forth to London. It was in cars on the motorway where myself and Morrissey did a lot of our profound talking and thinking and listening. We loved it, because we’d take off at half three in the morning back to Manchester or down to London, just razzing about. That came out in ‘Is It Really So Strange?’”. As a matter of fact, Morrissey included the track on Rank, which he compiled alone a year after the band’s demise, and I feel like every song on that record was put in that particular order for a particular reason (if you look at the tracklist it basically tells the whole story of The Smiths, from start to finish… he even included The Draize Train which he claimed he didn’t like, which is why he refused to put lyrics on it, so I can only assume he did that as a conciliatory gesture towards Johnny).

I Keep Mine Hidden → the last song The Smiths ever recorded, it is, like “I Won’t Share You”, widely believed to be a direct message from Morrissey to Johnny, who was about to leave the band. A plea for understanding, he seems to imply that for Johnny is much easier to lie (about what?) while hiding in plain sight (“But it’s so easy for you, because you let yours flail into public view”), while Morrissey is forced to keep HIS hidden. IT could be his emotions and the fact that he feels the need to repress them because of some trauma in his past (“I’m a twenty-eight digit combination to unlock, with a past where to be touched meant to be mental.”), but IT could also be a relationship. Johnny was married, while at the time Morrissey showed no public signs of being involved with anyone and had yet to relinquish his celibate image, which may have been frustrating if he was actually interested in someone but couldn’t voice it.

MORRISSEY

Viva Hate

Alsatian Cousin → literally the first sentence on the first record Morrissey released post-Smiths is: “Were you and he lovers? And would you say so if you were?”. While the rest of the song is pretty ambiguous is interesting to note that, according to Mozipedia, Johnny was, at the time, the proud owner of two Alsatian dogs.

Angel Angel Down We Go Together → Morrissey himself admitted that this song was about Johnny. He also said it’s the only song he’d written with him in mind, post-Smiths, and that it was about how sorry he felt to see him being taken advantage of by the music industry. While the full truth of this statement may be debatable, it’s still worth noting how the lyrics end with the repeated: “I love you more than life”.

Late Night, Maudlin Street → While Morrissey said that this song was about his isolating childhood during the 70s, I think the lyrics go much deeper than that. Apparently, when Johnny wanted to leave the band, Morrissey took it badly enough for people to start worrying about the fact that he might take his own life. Both Stephen Street and Grant Showbiz admitted to this, with Showbiz even spending the night at Morrissey’s house to keep an eye on him. There’s also a rumor about the fact that Morrissey actually did attempt to kill himself by baking a cake with loads of sleeping pills in it, eating it and then phoning Johnny, admitting that he loved him and asking him to come seeing him before he died, with Johnny calling an ambulance instead. (“I came home late one night, everyone had gone to bed, nobody stays up for you, I had sixteen stitches all around my head / The last bus I missed to Maudlin Street so, he drove me home in the van...”) This would also explain the lyrics: “And I know I took strange pills, but I never meant to hurt you”. If this story was true, then I feel like moving away from Maudlin Street could actually be a metaphor for committing suicide. (“Good-bye house, forever! I never stole a happy hour around here”, “I am moving house, a half-life disappears today / Every hag waves me on, secretly wishing me gone / Well, I will be soon / Oh, I will be soon.”) There are also more loans from Elizabeth Smart’s By Grand Central Station… namely: “They took you away in a police car / Dear Inspector, don’t you know? Don’t you care? Don’t you know about love?”. This part comes from the same chapter which probably inspired part of the lyrics for The Boy With The Thorn In His Side and which is about people putting themselves between a loving couple. Also, according to Mozipedia, during the making of Viva Hate, Morrissey prepared the artwork for the final Smiths single, Last Night I Dreamt… which was originally going to include an inscription on the back sleeve saying: “When I sleep with that picture beside me… I really think it’s you.”, which would explain the lyrics: “When I sleep with that framed picture of you beside my bed / Oh, it’s childish and it’s silly, but I think it’s you in my room, by the bed.” The single’s inner sleeve was also going to feature a lyric from Well I Wonder, “Please keep me in mind”, so these may very well have been messages for Johnny. Worthy of interest are also the parts about love at first sight and seeing each other with no clothes on.

Suedehead → the lyrics are about someone sticking around Morrissey even though they know it hurts him. Suedeheads were a subculture in early 1970’s England that split off from the skinheads and came to popular notice in a book by Richard Allen. Morrissey apparently read the book, but according to Len Brown’s Meetings with Morrissey interviews, the title has little to do with the subject matter of the song: M: I did happen to read the book when it came out and I was quite interested in the whole Richard Allen cult. But really I just like the word ‘suedehead’." LB: “So it’s not even based on an episode from Suedehead?” M: “No, not really.” LB: “And it’s not about anyone in particular?” M: “Yes, it is, but I’d rather not give any addresses and phone numbers at this stage. But the most interesting nugget of information comes once again from Mozipedia, which says it may be worth taking into consideration a recollection from Johnny about a period during the latter half of The Smiths’ career when he decided to ‘get a motorbike and get a suedehead’. ‘That was my mantra for a while. Gotta get a suedehead! Gotta get a suedehead!’ […] ‘I think I may have brought that word into the vernacular, I might be wrong. But that’s what I did, got myself a motorbike and a suedehead haircut. To cloud further autobiographical analysis, Morrissey also said that he has never kept a diary, even though “I make so many records that in a peculiar way that becomes like a personal diary”. And as far as the repeated “It was a good lay” at the end, he said he just made it up (which I personally doubt, but I guess we’ll never know for sure).

Break Up The Family → I feel like the title is a metaphor for The Smiths splitting up. “You say break up the family and let’s begin to live our lives”. It was Johnny who wanted to ‘take a break’ from the band, which Morrissey didn’t approve of, so this may very well be about that particular moment when Johnny told him he’d had enough. There’s yet another reference to being driven home by someone: “Hailstones, driven home in his car- no breaks? I don’t mind.” Which reminds me of There Is A Light… “And if a double-decker bus crashes into us, to die by your side it’s such a heavenly way to die.”

I Don’t Mind If You Forget Me → when Morrissey started working on Viva Hate, one of the earliest songs he was working on was called I Don’t Want Us To Finish, with Us probably being him and Johnny. It’s said the song was later scrapped, but I feel like it may actually have been turned into this one instead. In the lyrics, Morrissey is trying to convince himself that he doesn’t mind if the person he cares about the most ends up forgetting him, but clearly he does care, otherwise he wouldn’t have written an entire song about it. “The pressure to change, to move on / Was strange and very strong / So this is why I tell you / I really do understand / Bye bye”. I feel like this is another reference to Johnny’s departure, because it was him who wanted a change of direction for the band’s future, while Morrissey seemed to be happy for them to stay as they were.

Treat Me Like A Human Being → this was a demo which was abandoned and later released in 2012 on a Viva Hate reissue, taking the place as track 9 instead of The Ordinary Boys. The lyrics are a plea by Morrissey for someone to acknowledge his feelings and have some compassion for him. The reason I’m including it in this list is because of the lyric: “Leave all your hate behind you”, which could be interpreted as a reference to the fact that, after The Smiths split up, Johnny had started bad-mouthing him in the press. Worthy of interest is also: “Three words could change my life / Yet you treat me like you never care”. I wonder what those three words might be… “Stop being racist”, maybe?

Oh Well, I’ll Never Learn → Suedehead b-side, there’s not much to say about this one but I do find the lyrics “I found a fountain of youth / And I fell in / How could I ever win?” interesting, if anything because they make me think of the fact that Johnny, being four years younger than Morrissey, was the one who put The Smiths together. It’s also been mentioned how energetic he was, fully in contrast with Morrissey’s coy personality, and yet Johnny’s energy would prove infectious, providing him with an unexpected source of drive and creativity and making him feel rejuvenated, much like a fountain of youth. Also, right at the beginning it says: “Looking up at the sign / It said: PLEASE KEEP AWAY / And so in I ran” which can be read in many ways, but would make perfect sense in the context of falling in love with someone you can’t have.

Bona Drag

He Knows I’d Love To See Him → the lyrics are about Morrissey wanting to rekindle his relationship with someone he hasn’t seen for quite some time. Even though he’s never admitted to it, I feel like this has to be about Johnny because of the line: “’Cause when I lived in the arse of the world”. It’s common knowledge that Johnny was the one who first reached out to Morrissey about forming a band by showing up to his house and later, in an interview, he said that Johnny’s initiative probably saved his life. Also, the lyric: “My name still conjures up deadly deeds / And a bad taste in the mouth” could be yet another reference to the fact that The Smiths’ split-up hadn’t been exactly amicable and Johnny was talking badly about him in the press. Still, even though Morrissey makes his feelings known right from the title (he wish he could see him and still wishes him happiness), the final: “He doesn’t know” suggests that the other person is not aware of Morrissey’s magnanimity. Also, in an interview of the same period (1990), he was asked: “If Johnny phoned and asked to work with you again, what would you say?” to which he replied: “It’s no secret I would be on the next bus to his house”. So, it seems like the song might have reflected his actual feelings.

Yes, I Am Blind → the reason I’m including this is because of the lyric: “Yes, I am blind / But I do see / Evil people prosper / Over the likes of you and me, always”. Which reminds me a lot of: “And people who are weaker than you and I / they take what they want from life” from A Rush And A Push… which I think was directed to Johnny as well. Pretty interesting are also the lyrics: “Love’s young dream / I’m the one who shopped you / I’m the one who stopped you / ‘Cause in my sorry ways I love you” and: “Love’s young dream / Are you sorry for what you’re done? / Well, you’re not the only one / And in my sorry ways I love you”. This sounds like ‘Love’s young dream’ was the one who made the first move towards Morrissey but was then pushed away by the man himself, maybe because he realized this person didn’t actually love him as much as he thought. Also, that repeated: “And in my sorry ways I love you” reminds me a lot of that line in Speedway, “In my own strange way / I’ve always been true to you / In my own sick way / I’ll always stay true to you” (more on that later). This is one of those songs that has no explicit references to Johnny or to events surrounding him, but it has such a feeling of longing to it, I can’t help but think it may have been written with him in mind.

Happy Lovers At Last United → Johnny and Angie split up for a brief period back in 1983, just before The Smiths were to go on tour in the USA for the first time, but got back together once the band were back in the UK. This song talks about Morrissey helping a couple of friends reuniting and then feeling sad because he feels like they don’t want him nor need him anymore. Obviously I don’t know why or how Johnny and Angie actually got back together… according to The Severed Alliance, they had split up in the first place because Johnny had gotten closer to an ex of his and it was actually Joe Moss, the band’s first manager and Johnny’s friend, who suggested he and Angie should get married. Morrissey’s role in this whole thing, on the other hand, is never mentioned, so the only thing we can rely on are these lyrics.

Kill Uncle

Tony The Pony → This song is a pretty harsh condemnation of someone who lets himself being repeatedly taken advantage of by anyone and personally, I see it as the flipside of Angel Angel Down We Go Together. The reason being, they both deal with a similar theme, but in two completely different ways. While Angel Angel is sad but compassionate, this one is resentful and dripping with exasperation. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you / Always nagging big brother / He’s only looking out for you”. Being older than Johnny, Morrissey was the one who tried to refrain him from doing stuff he didn’t approve of (like working with anyone who wasn’t him). “Tony the pony / So, that’s what they call you now? / When you’re free outside / So cold and hard and in control / And… there’s a free ride on Tony the pony”. Again, Johnny was the one who left the band, who wanted a change of direction and who, right after The Smiths split up, started playing with loads of different people (Bryan Ferry, Talking Heads, The Pretenders, Bernard Sumner…) and that would make any control freak (such as Morrissey undoubtedly is) very bitter very quickly. He’s basically calling Johnny a (music) slut, who anyone can try and hire for a while. “Oh, why do you always want to stop me / From doing the things in life that make me happy? / And when I’m outside with friends, laughing loudly / Why do you always want to stop me?” and immediately after: “Oh, I would never / I would never”. This reads like a dialogue, with Tony the pony first asking Morrissey why he always has to spoil his fun and Morrissey replying that he would never dream of doing such a thing. Right at the end though, the bitterness comes right through with: “I will never say I told you so / or how I knew that something bad would happen to you / I don’t want to say I told you so / oh, but Tony, I told you so!”. I wish there were more specific references (like… what did happen to Tony that was so bad?), but I feel like my initial point still stands.

The Loop → Sing Your Life b-side, the lyrics are a plea for someone to call him if he needs him. “So one day, when you’re bored / By all means call / Because you can do / But you might not get through”. I find the last line particularly interesting because it reveals that Morrissey’s professed availability has an expire date after all. As for the identity of this plea’s addressee, I’m just gonna quote Mozipedia: “The singer’s short message to an old friend telling them ‘by all means call me’ and inevitably interpreted by Smiths romantics as being directed towards Marr.” Apparently, Morrissey was especially proud of this song, even calling it his favourite at the time.

Your Arsenal

You’re Gonna Need Someone On Your Side → This is another one which I have doubts on (the lyrics are so vague they could be about anyone, really), but Verse 2 is the one I find the most interesting: “Someone kindly told me that you’d wasted eight of nine lives / Oh, give yourself a break before you break down / You’re gonna need someone on your side”. Johnny was known to be a workaholic, even compromising his own health by devoting all of his time to any project he was working on. He also mentioned how alcohol and drugs became a problem for him in the 90s, how he used them to cope with stress, and by this time he was working with Bernard Sumner on Electronic, so my guess is that they were leading quite a hectic lifestyle. Considering him and Morrissey were still not talking to each other, it would make sense for Morrissey to know what he was up to through friends they had in common and if they had told him Johnny was still working himself to the point of exhaustion, it would make sense for him to get worried about him, hence this song, which is about being supportive through concern for someone. The other interesting part is the ending: “And here I am! / Well, you don’t need to look so pleased”. It feels like Morrissey knows the other person wouldn’t necessarily want his support, even though that doesn’t stop him from providing it, hoping the other person might come around eventually.

Tomorrow → The reason I’m including it on this list is this part: “All I ask of you is one thing that you’ll never do / Would you put your arms around me? / I won’t tell anybody.” which, even though the connection is tenuous, reminds me of this bit from by Grand Central Station… “I am lonely. I cannot be a female saint. I want the one I want. He is the one I picked out from the world. I picked him out in cold deliberation. But the passion was not cold. It kindled me. It kindled the world. Love, love, give my heart ease, put your arms round me, give my heart ease. Feel the little bastard.” It could be about Johnny or it could be about someone else entirely. At this point, some time had passed since The Smiths’ demise and who knows what Morrissey had been exactly up to (and with whom)? The one thing I’m quite sure of is that, considering how much he took from it, Morrissey used By Grand Central Station… as a way to express and sublimate his conflicting feelings towards Johnny (I might make a separate, more in-depth analysis on that in the future).

Vauxhall and I (Vauxhall is both an area of London noted for its gay clubs AND a British car manufacturer, so it looks like Morrissey’s car kink is still alive and well).

Billy Budd → from Mozipedia: “Taking its title from the 1960 film Billy Budd, based upon the posthumously published novella of Moby Dick author Herman Melville, Morrissey uses the term as a playful nickname for a long-standing and long-suffering companion. As he describes, their relationship provokes public ridicule and discrimination, so much so that Morrissey comically volunteers to have his legs amputated as a sacrifice for Billy’s freedom. The elusive nature of the lyrics offers few clues as to the identity of ‘Billy Budd’ beyond the mention of ‘12 years on’. Since the song was released in 1994 (though recorded in 1993) the line was interpreted by many as a reference to Johnny Marr whom he ‘took up with’ 12 years earlier in 1982. This theory is somewhat compounded by the outrageously spooky coincidence that in 1888 Melville published a collection of poetry titled John Marr and Other Sailors. The song also includes what appears to be another fleeting citation from one of Morrissey’s favourite sources, Elizabeth Smart’s By Grand Central Station… ([‘they intercepted our glances because of] what was in our eyes’)”. There’s also an audio floating around in which Morrissey changes the lyrics from “but now it’s 12 years on” to “now it’s 15 years on” in 1997, 15 years after he met Johnny. As for the Melville references, I highly recommend you go and read his ‘John Marr’ poem in its entirety, but this is my favourite part: - I yearn as ye. But rafts that strain, Parted, shall they lock again? Twined we were, entwined, then riven, Ever to new embracements driven, Shifting gulf-weed of the main! And how if one here shift no more, Lodged by the flinging surge ashore? Nor less, as now, in eve's decline, Your shadowy fellowship is mine. Ye float around me, form and feature:-- Tattooings, ear-rings, love-locks curled;

Speedway → from Mozipedia: “The detail that Johnny Marr once worked at a speedway in his teens is enough to satisfy some theorists that the song is a coded address to the ex-Smiths guitarist, ignoring the fact that at the time of recording Morrissey and Marr were on cordial terms”. Personally, I don’t agree with this (partial) dismissal. The fact that they were on good terms at the time doesn’t mean that everything between them had necessarily been solved. I’d like to focus on this part, specifically: “I could have mentioned your name / I could have dragged you in / Guilt by implication, by association / I’ve always been true to you / In my own strange way / I’ve always been true to you / In my own sick way / I’ll always stay true to you”. Let’s go back to Billy Budd for a moment: “I said, Billy Budd / I would happily lose both of my legs / Oh, if it meant you could be free”. Free from what, exactly? From expectations? From life itself? Looks like Johnny/Billy Budd had a secret burden weighing down on him, and now onto Speedway: “I could have mentioned your name” in regards to what? “Guilt by implication, by association” so, the burden Johnny/Billy Budd carried was also shared by Morrissey? And what could be so heinous, so scandalous as to require this eternal silent loyalty? Could it be that the relationship between Johnny and Morrissey went deeper than everyone thought or liked to admit? Could it be that they shared a bond which wasn’t just professional or even friendly, but that bordered instead on all-consuming, romantic obsession? He then says that, in his own “strange way”, he’s always been loyal to him. The way he sings it though, putting quite a bit of emphasis on these two specific words, makes me think he’s hinting to Strangeways Here We Come, which both him and Johnny claimed was their best album and also the last one they recorded together. Talking about the song, he said: “I believe in my loyalty which is as developed as possible.” So at the end, when he goes: “In my own sick way / I’ll always stay true to you” it looks like whatever happens, the secret they share is so big and important it has to stay hidden no matter what. Morrissey is reassuring him that, if it ever gets out, it won’t be because of him. “All of the rumours keeping me grounded / I never said, I never said / That they were completely unfounded.” “And all those lies, written lies, twisted lies / Well, they weren’t lies, they weren’t lies, they weren’t lies.” According to Mozipedia: “It was only a decade later that Morrissey ended all further debate by admitting, somewhat flippantly, that the lyrics were ‘probably’ just his way of winding up his detractors at the time.” We all know that Morrissey has been at the center of many a storm throughout his career, but what’s the oldest one, the one that has been the most recurring, the one most journalists seem to always come back to, in the end? His sexuality. His sexual and romantic relationships (or lack thereof). His self-admitted celibacy, right at the beginning of his career, which immediately set him apart from the rest of his colleagues and sparked instant curiosity. The vagueness, the hints, the lack of evidence. Is he gay? Bisexual? Asexual? Or really just hopeless when it comes to human connection? When they don’t have a definite answer, some people invent it, even if it’s just to make things more interesting. So, there you have it. Journalists creating rumours out of thin air just to sell a few more papers. Journalists who encourage endless speculations on the most private aspects of an individual’s life. His lyrics are dissected, his friendships scrutinised just to find that final puzzle piece, the one which will make everyone go: “Ah, finally, there it is! I knew he was!”. But more often than not, Morrissey ends up beating them at their same game. He muddies the waters, he hides his tracks. Many of the songs which people could argue are about Johnny are released as b-sides. Is this really a coincidence? To me, this song represents closure. It’s Morrissey’s way of saying: ‘Look, I know we’ve been through a lot but, no matter what, I will protect you. I won’t rat you out’. At the time, it looked like Morrissey had finally found love with Jake Walters, his driver, and I think most of this record and the stuff he wrote after is about him. But if Johnny was his first real love, then this sounds like the final vent, the definite acknowledgment of what has been, before leaving the past behind for greener pastures.

You Are The Quarry

Never Played Symphonies → B-side of Irish Blood, English Heart, the lyrics are about Morrissey laying on his metaphorical deathbed and looking at all the people who cared about him, but he’s not able to see them because he’s focused on the Never Played Symphonies of the title, which are the people he didn’t get to be with. “You were one, you meant to be one / And you jumped into my face and laughed / And kissed me on the cheek and then were gone forever… not quite”. This is a bit of a reach, but there’s a gif floating around from an old movie of The Smiths backstage in Sheffield in 1984 where Johnny and Morrissey are looking at the camera, then Johnny leans into Morrissey as if he’s about to kiss him on the cheek, but Morrissey raises his hands and points at him, stopping him. I don’t know for sure if he wrote this whole song with Johnny in mind, but that was the first thing I thought upon reading that line. Also, that final “… not quite” becomes significant if you think about their relationship post-Smiths. They spent years not talking to each other, then they made up and were on good terms for a while, then there was the whole Joyce trial and they grew distant once again. But even if Johnny has been gone from Morrissey’s life for quite some time, he has never really gone, if you know what I mean. And he probably never will be, because their shared history is impossible to ignore. The final part: “You were one, you knew you were one / And you slipped right through my fingers / No not literally but metaphorically / And now you’re all I see as the light fades.” makes me think that whatever happened between them, even if it was physical, was mostly felt on Morrissey’s part (it reminds me of that quote in his Autobiography, “It was probably nothing, but it felt like the world”). The reason I think this is about Johnny is that “you’re all I see as the light fades”, as if to say: the light has finally gone out, and now it’s just you.

World Peace Is None Of Your Business

Forgive Someone → a bonus track on the deluxe edition, it sounds like Morrissey’s been reminiscing on past grievances. “Betray you with a sword / I would slit my own throat first of all, I will”. This reminds me of Speedway’s repeated declarations of eternal loyalty. “The black peat of the hills / When I was still ill”. This has to be a reference to The Smiths’ song Still Ill, even though “the black peat of the hills” also reminds me of These Things Take Time: “… and the hills are alive with celibate cries”. It’s like he’s thinking about his late adolescence, when he was lonely and depressed, before Johnny came to save him. “And then recall if you can / How all this even began / Forgive someone”. This looks like Morrissey is asking Johnny to think about how their legacy came to be and to forgive him for any mistakes he made. “Shorts and supports and faulty shower heads / At track and field we dreamt of our beds / In the bleachers you sit with your legs spread, smiling / ‘Here’s one thing you’ll never have’”. I feel like Morrissey’s past car kink has been replaced by a runner kink, especially considering the fact he later wrote List of the Lost, in which the main characters are track runners. The final, repeated “Our truth will die with me” reminds me once again of Speedway’s ending: “In my own sick way, I’ll always stay true to you”. In conclusion, whatever happened between Johnny and him will remain between the two of them, at least until Morrissey is alive.

#the smiths #morrissey #johnny marr #marrissey #this has been quite a ride my dudes #good luck to anyone who decides to read this

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