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lezliefaithwade · 4 years ago

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The Power of Poetry

When I was growing up, my father would often refer to my mother’s side of the family as though he were speaking in parenthesis. “Your mother’s sister…” or “Your mother’s aunt…” and to be fair, my mother did the same with my dad. Even as a child, the differences between their two worlds were shocking. My mother, nicknamed “Showboat” by my fraternal Grandmother, was both a breath of fresh air and shocking to the strong British stock my father heralded from. There was nothing capricious about the Wadley’s. My grandfather was a train engineer. My grandmother raised five boys during the Depression. They attended Anglican church regularly, played bridge, and ate their meals every night together around the dining room table. My mother’s family was another story. My paternal grandmother, after having already been widowed twice, lived in “sin” with an Italian cook who worked for my great-grandmother in her restaurant. She had flaming red hair, wore tight dresses, and loved a good time. I can’t ever remember a year my Nana wasn’t on a diet. I never saw her read a book, or cook a single meal – ever. I think she lived for trips to Florida where she and my grandfather would spend days at the pool and nights at the bar.

My parents were a kind of Romeo and Juliet, defying their parent’s wishes for the sake of love. One glance at their wedding pictures tells the whole story. A happy bride and groom stand with their arms entwined while decidedly unhappy in-laws, barely cracking a smile, are photographed outside of the church.

By the time my brother and I were born, we had become the branch on both sides of the family tree that didn’t really belong to either. We were the odd ones out. My mother’s family couldn’t figure out how Anglican children had penetrated their ranks, and my father’s family were apoplectic when they discovered that my brother and I had been enrolled in Catholic school. At Christmas as we opened our gifts inside the home my father grew up in, my grandmother could be heard to comment on the amount, the cost and the suitability of every item. By dinner time, my mother was counting the minutes until we would leave.

The disparity between the two families was never more evident than when my parents would ship us off to a relative when they were going through a particularly difficult rough patch. Most often a relative I didn’t know. Usually a childless female or lonely widow who at a party said in passing something like, “Lezlie is so precocious. I’d love to know what goes on in her mind.”

“Really?” my mother would ask and the next thing I knew I was at my cousin Cheryl’s or my Aunt Gwen’s.

Cheryl was an attractive woman with wispy blond hair and fine features. A staunch Catholic, she insisted I put a doily on my head then dragged me off to church where I became nauseous from heat and incense. Like many such relatives, Cheryl saw the weekend with me as an opportunity for indoctrination and spent hours reading bible stories about Jonah in the whale and Noah’s ark. Somewhere she missed the memo that I was already reading A Wrinkle in Time and had moved beyond the old Testament to Madeleine L’Engle. I came home insisting my parents never subject me to her good intentions again. Cheryl, now having proven my father’s point about how crazy my mother’s relatives were, would cause him to simply smile and say, “See, that’s what I’m talking about.”

Aunt Gwen was another story altogether. Universally considered “weird” by all my relatives, Gwen lived in a rather nice apartment in the Beaches. She wasn’t religious at all, but an alcoholic who kept her apartment dark and sombre. She’d serve me processes food, that I didn’t like, and once, when I was three, she took me to a funeral parlour. About a month later as my parents were driving past the establishment I blurted out, “I saw a man sleeping in there.” My mother just looked at my father and rolled her eyes. Over time they started keeping score against each other and the points were racking up.

By the time I was in Grade 5 my parent’s marriage was, not surprisingly, on rocky ground. It was probably even before that, but it was Grade 5 when I noticed it for the first time. Both sides of the family were poised for what seemed an inevitable split as I began a new school and a new classroom with my first male teacher, Mr. Koerner. Mr. Koerner didn’t like me. Or maybe to put it more accurately, he preferred the other girls in my class and most notably my best friend, Trinka. Trinka was beautiful, and poised and loved to colour code her notebooks. She cared about her clothes and her nails and had perfect posture. When she started a Greek Mythology card catalogue, she shot up in Mr. Koerner’s estimation as practically perfect. In terms of rank, there was Trinka, Anila, Diane, and then me. I was (before the term had even been coined) the “Duff”. I wore glasses, spilled food on my clothes, and was a decidedly bad influence on my best friend. When Trinka and I wrote a radio play about a murderer who chopped up his victims and flushed them down the toilet only to back up the entire city’s sewer system, it was my parents, not Trinka’s who got the call about how disturbing it was. My mother and father knew full well that I was influenced by Creepy Magazine (a series of comic books I loved reading) and thought nothing more of it.

Mr. Koerner did not like my mother, most notably because of two incidents that went all the way to the Superintendent of the school board. The first one occurred one morning when I mentioned in class that she had allowed me to watch the movie “Gypsy.” Never overly concerned with our ability to process movies, my parents frequently watched sophisticated films with my brother and me. They were always available for questions if there was something we didn’t understand and they never subjected us to anything we didn’t want to watch. So, when I happily explained the plot to my classroom one Monday morning during current events, Mr. Koerner was aghast. In front of my class-mates he publicly castigated my parents and humiliated me for what he deemed to be an inappropriate movie for a child of my age to watch (He clearly took issue with strippers). The second incident and probably much worse was the way he insinuated himself into my life when I got my first pair of contact lenses. I’d been wearing glasses since I was two, and by the time I got into grade 5 wearing contact lenses became a viable option…one recommended by my optometrist. Mr. Koerner was shocked the first day I arrived without my spectacles. He told me I was vain and blamed my mother for a decision he thought was not in my best interest. At this point my father got involved. He stormed down to the school and, as I understand it, scared the bejeezus out of Mr. Koerner. For the first time in a long while, my parents were getting along. At night I’d hear them as they shared their common dislike for the man my mother referred to as, “Larry”. I suddenly felt like I was in a version of Disney’s The Parent Trap. What began as me dreading school, turned into me hoping “Larry” would put his foot in his mouth yet again so my parents would come together as a team.

Mr. Koerner had, among his many idiosyncrasies, a penchant for keeping scrapbooks. They weren’t for public consumption, but rather books compiled of our work for his personal pleasure. One day for an assignment, I turned in the following poem:

They’ve all left now

Gone their separate ways

This house once filled with laughter

Must now face empty days

A cold breeze taps my shoulder

And I blink and turn around

I only hope I’ll have such love

For the new home that I’ve found.

Mr. Koerner gave me 90% for the poem with instructions to have it signed by a parent and then returned.

“Returned.” my mother said, “What for?”

“His scrapbook.” I replied between mouthfuls of mashed potatoes.

“What scrapbook?” my father asked.

“The one he keeps our stuff in.” I nonchalantly replied.

“For what purpose?” my father queried.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Beats me. He’s got tons of Trinka’s stuff in there is all I know.”

“Well,” said my mother, “He’s not getting this back.”

I choked. “What do you mean? Everyone has to return their work once it’s been signed.”

“Not this time.” My father chimed in. And that was that.

I loved that my parents were taking a stand as a united front. I did not like being the messenger.

The next day I turned up for school without the poem, hoping Mr. Koerner wouldn’t notice. At the end of the day he stopped me before I could sneak out.

“Lezlie, do you have your poem signed by your parents?”

“Oh, gee, I forgot it. I’ll bring it tomorrow,” I said and left for home.

The next day it was the same. And the day after that. By the end of the week Mr. Koerner was getting wise that something was up.

“Lezlie,” he asked, “What’s going on with the poem? I gave it to you to have signed and then returned. If you don’t bring it back, I’ll have to dock you your mark.”

When I told my parents that I was perilously close to losing my grade if they didn’t return the poem, they were furious.

“He knows what the mark is,” my mother exclaimed.

“Surely he’s recorded your grade already,” my father stated. “What the heck’s up?

In the meantime, my mother had copied the poem and sent it to every member of both her side and my father’s side of the family, selecting to tell them that I had written it and that my teacher was threatening to dock me my mark if I didn’t return it to him. Could they believe the injustice of it all?

For the first time that I can ever remember, there was a universal uproar from both sides. Even my cousin Cheryl and my Aunt Gwen called to tell my mother how unfair it all was. And the following week, when he threatened once more to dock me my grade, both my mother and my father went to the school to visit him. It was one of those pivotal moments when you know that things will either be better or worse for you, but will definitely not remain as they have been. An hour later when they returned, my father simply said, “Well, that’s that.” Apparently, my dad told Mr. Koerner that if he ever threatened me again about anything, he’d make it his mission in life to have him transferred. After that, my teacher pretty much ignored me and never asked for a single item of mine for his “scrapbook” ever again.

That year my parents seemed to be closer than ever and the day I found out I had Mr. Koerner for grade 6, I was secretly thrilled.

When my parent’s marriage did, in fact, dissolve a few years later, there was no villain left to unite them. Lines were drawn in the sand and sides were picked. Our weird family of four that had never really belonged to either side of the family, were now a family of three and even more conspicuously out of step.

Still, for two brief years I enjoyed the unification of my parents as they fought to protect me against a terrible teacher. And somehow throughout it all, I learned about the incredible power of the written word along with a new found love of poetry.

#poetry #teacher #family #student #growing up

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ink-logging · 6 years ago

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More Superhero Comics, Revealing My Reactionary and Facile Engagement with Art as Little More Than the Accrual of Social Capital, Benefiting Nobody But Myself, 4/7/19

The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen Vol. 4: The Tempest #5 (of 6), Alan Moore, Kevin O’Neill, Ben Dimagmaliw, Todd Klein: This is an often very funny issue, set up like a pasted-together UK edition of old US pre-Code horror and crime comics, which, in addition to being funny, plumps up the page count as the plot moves maybe two or three tics forward in advance of the very-last-issue-of-LoEG-ever. The conservative in me wonders why we’re being this digressive in the penultimate number of the entire saga, but then -- at least since “The Black Dossier” -- this project has been more about positioning various strands of fiction and their accrued cultural baggage against one another than telling a propulsive adventure story. Anyway: the realm of Faerie, having easily survived an attempted nuclear strike on the collective imagination by a military-corporate black ops fiction squad comprised entirely of various revamps of James Bond, has brought in every character from every game, comic, cartoon, TV show, movie and book reality with everything for a HUGE apocalypse!

Scenes of bedlam involve: the life story of Victorian painter and murderer Richard Dadd; cameos by Stardust the Super Wizard and David Britton’s Lord Horror; the oeuvre of musician Warren Zevon, brought to terrifying life; a Corbenesque image of a nude muscleman’s massive dick flapping into battle in 3-D; Mick Anglo’s Captain Universe, presented by Moore in unmistakable evocation of his own Marvelman/Miracleman stories of decades ago; a ghost wearing the word CRIME on his head a la Charles Biro’s Mr. Crime, the greatest American comic book horror host; at least one figure from the annals of racist caricature firing powerful sound waves from his mouth; a monster named Demogorgon, the leviathan of Populism, which the heroes allegorically cross as a footbridge en route to a safehouse named the Character Ark; a page-long parody of Batman (via the forgotten UK superhero playboy character the Flash Avenger), describing his origin as motivated entirely by hatred of the poor; a text feature telling of UK comics artist Denis McLoughlin, who worked consistently since the end of WWII, never made enough money to retire, and spent decades as an elderly man drawing for survival on titles he hated, eventually taking his own life in his 80s; and the secret of what happened to all the British superhero characters after the midcentury, which is that they were all eaten by Capitalism, pretty much. I laughed a bunch, but if you think LoEG is tedious shit, this probably won’t turn you around.

Savage Dragon #242, Erik Larsen, Ferran Delgado, Nikos Koutsis, Mike Toris: The latest installment of the longest-running Image comic written and drawn by one of the Image founders, now deeply dove into problematic network tv drama stuff. The Dragon’s relationship with his partner Maxine is still strained in the wake of her sexual assault, a video of which the Dragon viewed in the police archives; meanwhile, the mother of one of the Dragon’s young children has been telling them all the truth about their parentage, further disrupting the peace of the household. Also, a formerly aggressive sex robot has joined the gang, dressed as an anime maid. And, the Dragon reluctantly teams up with the mid-’00s-vintage sexy heroine character Ant (which Larsen purchased from creator Mario Gully a few years ago) to foil a scheme by elderly elites to project themselves into the bodies of mythic gods in order to provoke the Rapture. Most interesting to me, however, is a bonus segment in which Larsen presents newly-lettered pages of his preliminary solo work on “Spawn” #266 (Oct. 2016), which would later be filled out by contributions from Todd McFarlane, colorist FCO Plascenscia, and letterer Tom Orzechowski.

As usual, I prefer the ‘unfinished’ version (top) to the official release product (bottom).

Superman Giant #9, Erika Rothberg, ed.

Batman Giant #9, Robin Wildman, ed.

These are two of those 100-page DC superhero packages they sell for five bucks exclusively at Walmart (for now; later this year they’re gonna have them in comic book stores too), which marry one new 12-page story per issue with three full-length reprint comic books from elsewhere in the 21st century. I just wanted to know what was inside them. Here is what I found:

-The new Batman comic is written by Brian Michael Bendis as a very conspicuously all-ages prospect, where the story is about nothing more than what it’s about, and the title character is presented as a serious-minded but inquisitive and compassionate man of adventure. This issue -- just in time for the remix of “Old Town Road” featuring Billy Ray Cyrus -- Batman and Green Lantern travel back to the Old West, trade in their superhero outfits for cowboy clothes, and meet up with Jonah Hex. Nick Derington draws the heroes smooth and squinting with Swanian sincerity, and Dave Stewart colors it all bright and sunny. This is not my thing at all, but it’s confident to the point of acting like almost a rebuke to the rest of the book, where literally everything else is chapter whatever of a nighttime doom ballad drawn by either Jim Lee or something trying very hard to look like him.

-Like:

I can spot the differences, sure - if nothing else, reading superhero comics trains you to spot differences in otherwise similar things. But, there is absolutely an aesthetic at work. The top page is from an issue of “Nightwing” that tied into the 2012 “Night of the Owls” crossover in the Batman titles, produced by a seven-person drawing and coloring team fronted by pencillers Eddy Barrows & Andres Guinaldo. The writer, Kyle Higgins, has Dick Grayson fight his semi-immortal great-grandfather, who is an assassin for the Court of Owls: one of the more popular recent Batman organizations of villainy, presented here as a fascist group mediating society’s function through murder from the gray space between social classes. The Graysons, therefore, are the Gray Sons, but Nightwing resists the pull of destiny by winning a big fight, slinging the villain over his shoulder, and walking away toward a better future of just beating the shit out of bad people instead of killing them, I think. The Batgirl story -- from 2011, written by Gail Simone -- is comparatively orthodox, finding the character gripped with uncertainty about the superhero life and going about some downtime character-building activities, though most of it’s a big fight with a villain with a tragic past. The penciller, Ardian Syaf, kind of has trouble blocking the action so that characters’ movements are clear; I think Syaf is best known for having his contract with Marvel terminated in 2017 for slipping what were widely interpreted as anti-Christian and antisemitic references to Indonesian politics into an X-Men comic.

-There is a whole lot of Jeph Loeb among the reprints. He is not a writer who has been in critical fashion for much the past two decades, but he has undoubtedly sold a lot of comics for DC, and they probably feel he can do it again. The Batman book is serializing (deep breath) “Hush”, a 2002-03 storyline notable for its extraordinarily easy-to-solve central mystery, and generally being a taped-together excuse for Jim Lee to draw as many popular Batman characters as possible across 12 issues; it sold like hot cakes. The highlight of chapter 9 is probably a bit where a three person fight ends in one panel, and then one of the characters leaves, and then a second character wakes up from unconsciousness and also leaves, and then the first character comes back and nurses the third (also unconscious) character back to health, and then Batman arrives, all in the transition between the aforementioned panel and the next, which takes place in the same room; such is the befuddling desire to race ahead to more spectacle. Jim Lee (with Scott Williams and Alex Sinclair) is indeed Jim Lee (et al.) throughout, though at one point the team drops a howler of a swordfighting panel where Batman’s blade appears to grows to JRPG length due to what I think is the colorist filling two whoosh lines with the same hue as the swords.

Meanwhile, the Superman book is serializing a 2004 storyline from “Superman/Batman” -- the series where Loeb has Superman describe the action on the page with his own Superman-branded captions, and Batman does the same with Bat-captions, and Superman says tomayto and Batman says tomahto -- in which the late Michael Turner, one of the rock star 2nd generation Image artists, illustrates a new introduction for Supergirl. But this isn’t quite the same comic that was originally published... can YOU spot the difference?

Is this like how Walmart won’t sell CDs that have an explicit content sticker, but with teen superhero g-strings? It’s hard to explain to younger readers how the low-rise/thong panties combo forever sealed the horniness of a generation of het male superhero artists into the late 1990s, and maybe DC doesn’t want to face that. Or, they’re just leery of how Turner slipping some peekaboo glimpse of Supergirl’s underpants or bare thighs into virtually every panel in which she is depicted below the waist might affect the marketability of the comic in 2019 - although I guess it could have happened in an earlier reprint somewhere too.

-The new Superman comic is a series of 12 splash pages depicting a race between Superman and the Flash. There is very little sense of speed, because Andy Kubert (inked by Sandra Hope, colored by Brad Anderson) draws the characters as frozen in time in a way that prioritizes muscular tension in the manner of contemporary superhero cover art; at one point the two characters part the sea with the force of their bodies, and it looks to me like they’re gesticulating in front of a theatrical backdrop. And, anyway, the story pulls back almost every other page to depict Batman standing on a ledge, or Lex Luthor in a sinister chair -- or some birds flying next to a building, or the Earth as viewed from space with streaks on it -- as the race occurs deep in the background or off to one side. The point is not excitement, but reflection, as imposed upon us by the between 13 and 21 narrative captions and/or dialogue balloons pasted atop all but the first page.

The writer is Tom King, whose “Mister Miracle” (with artist Mitch Gerads) gets a double-page advertisement later in the book, festooned with breathless blurbs from major media outlets. His narrator here is a little girl who is literally chained in captivity, clutching a Superman doll, and delivering her soliloquy in a manner of a superhero-themed TED talk with handclap repetitions on the nature of contradiction. Being faster than a speeding bullet is a CONTRADICTION. Being as strong as a locomotive is a CONTRADICTION. Leaping tall buildings in a single bound is a CONTRADICTION. Superman is about to lose the race, but then he wins, because to beat the Fastest Man Alive is... a contradiction. No wonder the GQ entertainment desk was blown away. DC comics do this kind of thing a lot, where they just have the writer tell you how great the characters are, and since you’re still reading superhero comics in the 21st century, you’re expected to pump your fists in recognition, because you and the writer and everyone at DC are just big ol’ fans... but I am not, because I am Jesus Christ, the only son of God.

-Elsewhere in the Superman book is an issue of “Green Lantern” from 2006, drawn by Ethan Van Sciver (inked with Prentis Rollins, colored by Moose Baumann), who is known today mostly as a conservative ‘personality’ online. He also netted more than half a million dollars last July in a crowdfunding campaign to make a 48-page comic book which he has not yet finished; funny to see an American right-winger on the French schedule. Funnier still to see the kind of people (mostly guys of a certain age) who mill around such personalities croaking about how diversity is ruining comics, because ALMOST EVERY FUCKING STORY IN BOTH OF THESE 100-PAGE BOOKS IS DRAWN BY EITHER SOME DUDE FROM THE 1990s OR SOMEBODY WORKING EXPLICITLY IN THAT STYLE, but - I guess when you’ve been pampered for so long, every paper cut feels like a ripped limb. Speaking of dismemberment, the writer here is Geoff Johns, who is often pegged as a superhero traditionalist, though he also has a grasp of gory pomp which occasionally pushes the comics he writes into a Venn diagram set with loud youth manga... at least in terms of how the action plays out, all broad and pained. So, needless to say, he’s currently writing “Doomsday Clock”, which is DC’s present attempt to extend the publication life of the valuable “Watchmen” property, so that they needn’t return it to the original creators, per the original writer, Alan Moore.

-To hear Alan Moore say it, the America’s Best Comics line was done on a work-for-hire basis as a means of ensuring prompt payment of the various creators from Jim Lee’s WildStorm, the original publisher. WildStorm was then acquired by DC (Jim Lee is now their co-publisher and chief creative officer), and Moore -- who has been (fairly) criticized in the past for taking ethical stances that cause financial harm to his artistic collaborators, who are in a less economically flexible position than writers in the comic book field -- allowed the line to continue under DC’s ownership, as to cancel everything would disadvantage everyone working on the titles. One of those titles, “Tom Strong”, was written by Moore and pencilled by Chris Sprouse for a while, and then there was a long line of guest creators, and then Moore and Sprouse came back when the ABC line wrapped, so that the concept could reach its logical termination point in an apocalyptic manner... Moore does love an apocalypse. The final story in the Superman book is a very recent, late 2018 issue of “The Terrifics”, in which we find an attempt to revive the DC-owned Tom Strong characters as players in broader DC stories. Jeff Lemire & José Luís are the primary creators. Jack Cole’s Plastic Man is there, as well as the John Ostrander/Tom Mandrake version of Mister Terrific. It’s a lot of offbeat characters; we even see Moore’s own parody of Hoppy the Marvel Bunny, because, I mean, Alan Moore does a lot of riffs on preexisting characters too, right? It’s a big blob of cartoon whimsy, filled with available characters running around. If they’re available, you might as well roll ‘em out, off the new releases rack and into a supermarket reprint package stacked in a box next to squeeze toys and discount Pokémon merchandise, which I bought, because it was really cheap.

-Jog

#JogList

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chalabrun · 6 years ago

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between the dirt & desperation, ch. 1

Word count: 3,753 Pairings: Symbrock Rating: T Warnings: None Summary: Sequel to “Angry & Half in Love with You”, it’s been well over a month since Eddie moved away from San Francisco to start over in his hometown of Manhattan. Yet, it’s difficult to return to a normal life when what you were once addicted to becomes addicted to you. A/N: This is a crossover between Venom (2018) and Sam Raimi’s Spiderman trilogy (2002-07)

( READ ON AO3 )

Cities had moods. They had character, and personalities. It was hard explaining to someone from the suburbs or a small town of 5,000 where everyone knew each other. Eddie had been born in the city of cities, the one that everyone from Helsinki to Beijing and everywhere in between thought of when asked to imagine America, even for the tiniest of moments. Even Americans themselves. Manhattan had a personality so large and old that the entire East Coast looked like it. Like the Big Apple could be any city from Maine to just a stone’s throw above the Bible belt and they wouldn’t be wrong. Not entirely.

New York was steel and teeth. It was craggy concrete that bubbled like rivers of dried and cracked lava through the streets. A raw, industrial creation. When Christ told his disciples to be fishers of men, he wondered if they’d anticipated it’d look anything like this, that the net they threw would bring people together in a new Noah’s ark. Expansive, secretive, old, haggard, but also alive. Old and new. Fast-paced and robust and industrial. It claimed chilly winter nights and congested traffic as its temple, old jazzy film noir and sleepless, caffeinated nights as its sacrifice.

San Francisco had always been different. A bright tendril of Los Angeles, soaked in sun. If the sun made its harbor in Hollywood, then San Francisco was where its rays touched first, but also where its shadows were longest. It didn’t have the steel and shadiness New York did. Or ever would. It felt like your favorite relative you saw on the holidays, of palm fronds and brisk walks on a beach crested by an ocean so brilliant it was bluer than the sky it was supposed to get its color from. Peeled away and without secrets.

Maybe that’s why he never really felt like he’d belonged. Why he finally up and left after the whole Life Foundation incident. And after divorcing himself from the Other, when it finally became apparent how utterly at the mercy he was at the symbiote, they had to part ways. Lest he lose himself on top of all sense of normalcy. Of Anne and Dan and how utterly suited and picture-perfect they were for San Francisco.

It’s why New York’s rough and tumble called him back like a siren, and he just couldn’t refuse.

“Hey, I think ya dropped these.”

The subway emerged from a long and ghastly dark tunnel that made your reflection too easy to see. The back car for the early morning train from Brooklyn was mercifully sparse, all things considering. The man in question had dropped a sheaf of photos the lights blocked its glossy contents of, until it became apparent as to what it was.

Opaque, wide eyes set in a mask made of webbing. Red like blood, like slaughter. Interrupted by a Pacific blue on the chest, crawling up the side of a skyscraper in stunning detail. Eddie became shell-shocked at the sight of it, mind phasing to a rapid negative of the photos. Blinking, it went away.

“Oh, sorry about that. Guess I’m still kind of clumsy in the morning.” The brunet who speaks with wide blue eyes and earnest, smiling thin lips is the picture of someone untouched, but not innocent.

Eddie remembered himself and smiled back. “Yeah, no, no. These are some killer shots, though. You the guy who’s been getting Spidey’s mug in the papers? Man, even I gotta envy that kinda skill.”

The other man chuckled modestly. “My boss tends to differ on that front. He thinks all my stuff is pretty mediocre.”

Eddie’s brows bounced in disbelief, sputtering, “You serious? This shit looks like you got Spidey to pose for you in a SoHo photo studio. And he thinks this is subpar? Man, I wouldn’t wanna be workin’ for him.” Handing the photographer’s material back to him, he added, “Y’know, I do investigative journalin’ myself. Hell, I just got hired on to the Daily Bugle just the other day. We might actually see each other around.”

A boyish and incredulous look crossed the brunet’s face almost shyly. “Wait, seriously? What are the chances of that? —Oh, I’m Peter, by the way. Peter Parker.” He offered his hand to shake. “I’m more freelance, but I guess this makes us coworkers, huh?”

“No kidding. Can’t say I’m adverse to the idea. You photographers are like the muses of us journalists. At least, I think I got that off’a fortune cookie somewhere. You headed to HQ or somethin’?” Smiling crookedly, he shook Peter’s hand a little too enthusiastically. Blame finally getting something resembling a friend on that. “Oh, uh—yeah, Peter. I’m Eddie. Eddie Brock. Real name’s a bit longer, but kinda pointless, y’know?”

Their hands finally released, Eddie backtracking to whether or not he’d shaken it for too long. Clearing his throat, visibly fidgeting, he awkwardly ushered Peter through when they’d finally made it to a mutually apparent destination. “Hey, uh—after you, Pete.”

Peter smiled thinly at that. “Bugle’s this way. It’s not all that hard to miss.” Completely oblivious as to the sudden change in demeanor, Eddie shrugged and alighted on the platform with the other. At least he wasn’t going it alone this time around.

“Will you shut that thing off! If I have to hear one more goddamn word out of that smug Daily Planet’s reporter’s mouth, someone’s going to get fired!”

John Jonah Jameson leaned back in his rickety reclining chair, proudly smoking a thick cigar, a smug and politically incorrect aura bleeding from it. Thick brows raised dubiously as he went through Peter’s crop of photos like an inspector of choice swine at the country market, sticking a knife in the fat to gauge its leanness of the meat. And by the way his cigar hung from his teeth, he didn’t look too impressed.

“This the best you’ve got, Parker? I’ve seen brats on Instagram take better selfies at 3 AM after getting the damn munchies.” Peter himself looked tense, jaw gritting but too subtle to be noticeable or angry. Even Eddie found himself morbidly fascinated by the exchange and feeling vaguely bad for Peter himself.

“It’s the best I’ve got, Mr. Jameson. I got better lighting, and everything,” Peter reasoned, bordering on protesting, splaying his inventory out more. “Like for that one scoop you were talking about. I got this,” he pointed to a photo of the Friendly Neighborhood Spider accelerating up a wall in the wake of a crime scene, “in exactly the kind of context you were looking for and everything.” Incriminating, but falsely planted. Just what sort of deal had they made, anyways?

“It’s crap,” Jameson rebutted bluntly. “You think stories are made from HD screenshots? Nah, I want in-action pictures, Parker. Hell, I think it’s why teaming you up with Brock here will do you some good. You’ve got promise, but I just don’t see it—”

“Sir, your wife she’s—”

“Tell her I’ll call her back! Can’t you see I’m busy?” Jameson barked to his secretary who shrunk back, gazing sidelong as though the employees at desks behind her back were a captive audience. Jerking his head towards Eddie, he quipped gregariously, “What do you say, Brock? You up to heading to Oscorp to interview Doctor Octavius?”

Eddie needed a moment to mull over the name, feeling a pit open in his stomach at the realization. Oh God. Oh no—this was turning into San Fran all over again. Exactly what he’d been trying to escape. Except—Eddie calmed his breathing. It didn’t have to be a repeat. He’d get the interview, get in, get out, and not stick his neck where it didn’t belong like last time. Easy.

“You can count on me, Mr. J. I’ll keep Petey here from takin’ photos that look too good, eh?” As if to prove a point, Eddie circled an arm around Peter’s shoulder and shook it for emphasis, Parker glancing at him in bemusement, brows furrowed.

“Yeah…what he said, Mr. Jameson,” Peter replied stiffly, shrugging Eddie’s arm off and offering him a distantly apologetic look.

Alright, that was something. Only one more head-ducking event to go, and he’d be in the clear!

Several days later of navigating his way through an apartment at various stages of unpacking, and Eddie cobbled together an outfit that seemed decent enough: a button-down dress shirt, crisp black slacks, penny loafers, a dark jacket, and tie. Dressy, but still informed the world that he wasn’t some Washington Post shill. Remembering his past mistake with Carlton Drake seared the reminder not to get involved, not to fuck this up. He did enough time with what happened and paid dearly for it.

Even if he’d turned a new leaf, that didn’t mean he didn’t lie awake thinking about the symbiote. He did. God, he did. It was just the little things, mainly. Buying chocolate and tater tots and wondering why the hell he had. Thinking something and pausing, waiting for a response. It was messing with him, but he had to move on. If Venom was really that hellbent on keeping him, it would’ve. But, it didn’t. He had to remember that and move on. All graceful, and shit.

That didn’t make the memory of their parting any easier. Why did it still come back and bite him in the ass? It had been a month, maybe more. Why did his heart still ache like there was an emptiness to fill?

“C’mon Eddie, get your shit together,” he muttered to himself after stepping off the platform in Midtown Manhattan where the Oscorp tower rose in rivalry to that of Stark Industries’. It was an enviable life, being able to live so richly and without much complication, building an empire off the wit, grit, and ambition that made the American Dream. …Eddie mentally jotted that down. That could make for a good opener in his article.

“There you are. Right where I left you.” Eddie smiled at the sound of Peter’s voice. Sweater vest over some dress shirt and crisp trousers; the glasses made Parker look like a classic point Dexter. Guess that made Eddie the classic rebel to match.

“Yeah, yeah. Least Aunt May spiffed you up pretty good, eh? We ought’a start going; looks like it might start soon, an’ all.”

After their first meeting, they’d met a few times at a bar. First, it was logistics. The sense and sensibility that came with networking that any New Yorker in any industry worth his salt knew how to do. Brock wouldn’t have gotten nearly as far otherwise. Then, it was real friendly talk. Bonding over being born and bred city slickers felt like a homecoming he didn’t ask for, but sorely appreciated. It was nice having friends that didn’t quite stick as much in San Francisco.

“You ready to head on up, or does your hair need more greasing?” Peter teased as they crossed the street in unison. “Could stop at McDonald’s, too.” God, the shit-eating grin. Parker had a real mouth on him when he wanted to. A real potshot when it came to sarcasm and its humor.

“Can it, wise guy. Let me look a little bit smart ‘ere.”

Little more words were exchanged when a familiar professionalism beholden to men in journalism overcame them both almost in tandem, greeted by a front desk secretary who gave them both guest passes specific to the press conference Doctor Octavius was holding in one of Oscorp’s more “public-friendly” labs. Fair enough, even though the investigator in him wanted nothing less than to pass through all restrictions and really see the seedy underbelly. No corporation made it this big without a few body bags along the way.

At the demonstration proper, an enormous curtain separated the small gathering of reporters and journalists like them from the class act behind it. Eddie folded his arms and Peter appeared equally pensive, but a lot less out of place amid shined shoes and news anchor smiles.

“So, this guy, this Otto Octavius—any idea what he’s got cookin’, or we just gonna be surprised?” Eddie turned to Peter to ask who was like a kid in a candy store. He was still in is later college years, far as he knew. Practically a friggin’ baby, which explained a lot. That put a couple years between them. “’Cuz I ain’t really the surprises type.”

“Well, yeah. That’s kinda the whole point, right? Besides, it looks like it’ll start soon.” Peter’s eyes were wide as saucers and totally affixed to the front row. “Let’s get up front. I want a good view of what we might see.”

A flutter of anticipation and nervousness flowered in Eddie’s breast, practically feeling preemptive adrenaline pump through his veins. “…If ya say so, Petey. Guess it can’t hurt.” Why did it feel as though a sense of foreboding hung over them like a cloud? Along with something damnably familiar? Eddie swallowed down a clout of nerves he hadn’t felt before, following it tow as Peter dragged him to the front where no one seemed to mind. The lab’s ampitheater slanted downwards, anyway, so it’s not like they were blocking anything.

Clutching his camera in hand, Peter looked as though he might unleash a barrage of snapshots in his excitement. Which suited him just fine. Not that the camera shutters weren’t going off already like Peter was trying to commit to memory via his camera. Eddie, meanwhile, ticked on the portable recorder he kept on his person at almost all times, checking the small mic clipped on his jacket’s lapel.

And just in the nick of time, too. The lights dimmed substantially from their florescent blaze. Across the stage did a middle-aged and stocky man come unto the podium, smiling in a way that did little to offset the brooding intensity beneath heavy, thick eyebrows. The face of a scientist who grimly saw the failing condition of the world and had many a sleepless night trying to contrive of ways to offset the inevitable flatline. Cartlon Drake had that look, he remembered. This man wore it more intensely, and that much was exceedingly obvious.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we stand upon the brink. We live in a world where we’ve yet to explore the unknown while what we do is on the verge of collapse. And in response to it, it is the burden of those gifted with an aptitude of their calling to answer that call and play their part in saving this planet. The only one of its kind that we know of.”

With all the aegis of someone of his stature, of his eminence as a scientist, it still made Eddie feel wary of him. Even before the crawling sense of déjà vu, it clung to his tongue like gum and stuck there. What he wanted to speak out against before he even knew what it was. Clapping once, the maroon curtain rose and slowly did that sensation return stronger than it had ever before.

He should’ve known something out there was conspiring against him. Before him, in a cylindrical tube, was the symbiote. He could feel a low pulse that hummed softly, knowing exactly what it was doing: subduing the Other. Slowly did Eddie’s arms unfold, completely transfixed, and he had to resist every urge in his body to leap on stage and bash the glass in.

It was in pain.

Dr. Octavius gestured at the tank with a sweeping gesture, a dark humor in his smile. “I present to you the symbiote. Roughly a month ago as I’m sure you are all aware, the Life Foundation discovered these beings on an unsanctioned space flight. In San Francisco, innocent human lives were subjected under the machinations of Carlton Drake to try and bond it and others like it. Inhumane, and completely reprehensible.”

Venom stirred in the tank, almost in a stupor before rousing to life. Familiar, achingly agonized eyes widened in recognition of Eddie and the symbiote began writhing madly in the tank, inky tendrils crawling up its curve in futility, as if trying to escape to get back to him. His heart caught in his throat that throbbed sympathetically, every protective instinct in his body revving to high gear that wanted to spirit it away. As if knowing his thoughts, Venom thrashed in desperation and he swore he could hear it whimper and whine as though it were next to him, panicking once it knew he was here.

“It’s alive. Instead of subjecting this creature to the harms of bonding to a human host, we mean to study it, to replicate its properties without bringing harm to humans. Through this being, this symbiote, we intend upon harnessing its potential as both armor and protection and regeneration to benefit mankind. Think of it: a suit that could heal the infirm and disabled, helping them walk again. Or, sending people armed in this suit to hazardous places to save endangered lives in the wake of disaster. Even going beyond that, at no cost of life.”

While Octavius continued orating, Eddie tried to maintain his composure, but it was difficult with every passing second. His field of vision completely whited out save for his view of the symbiote, how it was practically ready to capsize the container in its desperation with Eddie so near. He hardly heard a word spoken until Octavius mentioned him by name, Peter’s perplexed look matching that dozen who stared at him in unison.

“Mr. Brock, is it? I’ll admit, I was surprised to find you among the list of those who were in attendance, but pleasantly surprised. Please, why don’t you come up here? Maybe you can hold their attention better than I can.” There was a murmur of polite laughter, though there was nothing humorous in the scientist’s eyes. If anything, it looked more like he was sharpening a knife and Eddie was the whetstone.

“Oh—right, yeah, sure thing, Doctor Octavius,” Eddie responded automatically, smile tense as he vaulted on the stage instead of taking the short set of stairs nearby. No one seemed to really mind, despite the formalness of the event. Hooking his thumbs in his pockets, it was a struggle not to keep his eyes wholly trained on the symbiote that loosed a long-pitched whine at their close proximity.

“Now, as many of you may be aware, Mr. Brock was one of two known successful hosts that bonded with one of the symbiotes, notably this one. I’ll admit, I’m quite curious: what was it like, being at the mercy of this fascinating creature?”

Eddie swallowed thickly, Peter’s blue eyes intense upon him that he only surreptitiously met. With every moment under the limelight, he felt his self-control crumbling and a white-hot rush of adrenaline take its place. He was sick. He was so fucking sick and he hadn’t even touched the Other in over a month, their time together having been brief enough as it was. “See, that’s the thing. It’s not really a ‘creature,’ y’know what I’m sayin’? It’s alive. Maybe not our definition of alive, but it thinks, it feels—it knows what it is. Who it is.”

Disguising his adrenalized state as thoughtful pacing, he rounded away from Octavius who watched him hawkishly, conspiratorial murmurs ringing the crowd like mist, like gathering storm clouds. And he could hear it in waves. “Humanity often thinks we’re the only ones out there capable of thinkin’ about our place in the universe, of makin’ bonds so profound that even the sun feels cold to us.” A flash of red along the wall: a fire extinguisher. It looked heavy. Heavy enough.

In the calm before the storm, he placed his hand on the glass, barely aware of the flashing bulbs of the cameras. Venom reacted intensely, that familiar, savage purr as it pressed itself yearningly to the glass, a passion so heavy it weighed like blood. “’s alright. I’m here now, baby. I’ll get ya outta there.” If it could devour the oils from his fingers, the milky clear prints left behind, the lingering heat—it would. Starved, so starved, not even meat could sate that hunger.

“What was it like being its host, Mr. Brock?” one of the reporters prompted, a stern blonde with flinty-ash eyes. “Were there any detriments to your health? You look fine, by looks alone.”

Eddie cleared his throat, coughing into his hand. Octavius’ gaze was like irons on his, having seen it from the sidelong view he had of the tank. Eddie’s own faltered as he pretended to focus exclusively on the crowd, Peter’s enthusiasm faltering. Like he knew about the chaos to unleash.

Posturing to look as though he were preparing to answer the question, he instead bolted for the fire extinguisher and paid no attention to the sudden shock upon the crowd while Octavius’ smug darkness shifted to a frenzied possession. Lunging for the tank, Eddie manfully smashed the glass, taking several tries before there was a fissure enough for Venom to seep through and spring into Eddie’s arms. Despite the whizzing of bullets from the security guards stationed nearby, Venom craned up to lick Eddie’s lips in a semblance of a kiss, wanting to sink into it. To be enveloped and taken by that tar pit he’d feared.

“Eddiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeee,” Venom crooned adoringly, wrapping around the blond with aplomb and all the anxiousness of before melting away. A massive black tarp of its nebulous miasma unfurled like crow’s wings around them, the bullets repelled uselessly. It nuzzled into his neck, content to stay there forever.

“Hey, Ven, we gotta get outta here. Y’think you can help me out here?”

A toothsome, wolfish smile of all fangs spanned its black lips, eyes narrowing in a feral cheer. “We’ll protect Eddie. We’ll keep him safe,” came its savage purr, all before the proximity between them closed with a harsh entanglement of mouth and tongue, Eddie forgetting to breathe and almost glad not to. Gradually, the eddies of his vision clouded away to a soothing blackness, one he never thought would’ve been.

And I’ll keep you safe, too—promise.

All he could remember last was rocketing into the very sky, smashing through skylights that rained down like shards of ice and incited a panic, Octavius enraged while the rest scattered. It was to be a state of emergency, sure, but little else mattered now.

All faded to black.

#eddie brock #peter parker #venom #spiderman #symbrock #j jonah jameson #otto octavius #crossover #my writing #i didn't think i'd be writing a multi fic for them in less than a day but here i am lel--

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finchisinanest · 2 years ago

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I'll take this a bit too seriously lol Lucifer kills god off and slowly kills off heaven - Impersonates gabriel and traps him in the sand tomb - puts an alternate on the ark - tells mary that he's the true god - bible stuff yadie yadie alt prolly gets crucified yaddie yaddie ya - analog age is when alternates fully strike with the help of six - "Cesar" kills his mother off, the follows mark home - mark entraps himself in his room and vents in his diary to "god" - goes insane to the point where he opens the door and gets mad - thatcher is intrested in mark's case - gets bullied by sarah (I forgor why ) -Thatcher "dies" - Adam and evelin prolly break up - evelin maybe goes missing - adam and jonah start alternate hunting - jonah dies - adam "dies?" haha I might've gotten some things wornng

ill pay someone 10 dollars (no i wont) if they can make a timeline of all the mandela events so far

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lionofstone · 7 years ago

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because both malakh and seraf are jewish, i see a fair bit of Jewish Content™ on my dash on any given day & i just keep being struck by the similarities between what they’re saying & stuff i was taught in church (for context sake, i’m mormon) like... seraf and i were talking about moses the other day and i remember thinking about how that story was on of the Big Ones i was taught about growing up (the other Big Ones being Noah And The Ark, The Garden Of Eden, Jonah And The Whale, and Everything In First Nephi (especially the Liahona), and Ammon And The Arms) moses was something?? i remember hearing about A Lot growing up, and even now we use stories about moses and the jewish people as key and important examples of faith

ALSO ESTER we talk about ester all the time she was Key to the first relief society lesson i ever taught tbh (i’m fairly sure there’s a jewish holiday that stems from that story was well?? love it)

i’ll be the first to admit that i don’t know a lot about judiasm and i could be WAY off base here, i don’t pretend to be well-educated on this subject but -- it feels like (from what i’ve seen/read/heard) a lot of jewish teachings/beliefs are also applicable to mormonism ACTUALLY I NOTICED THIS AGES AGO malakh reblogged a quote which really seems to mirror? or go along with? that mormon teaching about ‘being the hands’ or ‘doing the work’ where we’re taught/encouraged to act on behalf of God by providing service & just generally...being good people??? there’s more but i’m too tired to get into it

when i started this post i had a clear End Goal in mind but i’ve sort of lost it now THE POINT IS THAT A LOT OF THE QUOTES/POSTS I SEE ABOUT/FROM JUDIASM seem really in line with things that i was taught as a mormon??? i see a lot of similarities between how i was taught approach my faith/relationship with God & the way that jewish people do??? idk i just think it’s super interesting

tl;dr: if it wasn’t for the whole jesus��thing, i’d say mormonism & judiasm are pretty damn similiar

#mormon tag #ljs life #this has sorta been on my mind for a while??#but talking to seraf about moses the other day really added to #to it*#and i've seen a few quotes / posts in the past few days that really resonate or sound similar to quotes that i've heard #from leaders / prophets in my own churhc #church*#and part of this is uhm..... abrahamic religions....#but idk like i've not really .. noticed it before??#like doctrine wise i've noticed it with catholism & other christian groups obviously #but in terms of APPROACH? yeah idk #in term of approach to belief/faith/relationship with god?? i think judiasm is probably the closest i've seen before #& maybe i'm way off idk but from talking to seraf & a little to malakh it just seems that way #i! love! religion!#seraf: i know jewish theology doesn't come into your book --#me; cutting him off: no but wait that makes a lot of sense / sounds similar to stuff i was /already writing about/ i need to evaluate this #for two whole days brb #maybe i'll write this more eloquently eventually hmm

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oltnews · 5 years ago

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legend Elizabeth Olsen talked about her favorite Indiana Jones movie. source Alberto E. Rodriguez / Getty Images; Lucasfilm, Ltd. Even if Netflix has a huge collection of movies to stream, deciding what to watch can be a daunting task. Personal recommendations from people who have watched the movies are helpful, but by this point you may have gone through your family and friends' favorites. Celebrities like Leonardo DiCaprio, Taylor Swift and Jonah Hill have their own favorite titles that are currently airing on Netflix, so we've compiled them into a list. From the cult classic "Rosemary’s Baby" to the empowering comedy by Jennifer Kaytin Robinson "Someone Great", here are 17 celebrity-controlled movies that you can stream on Netflix. Note: Many Netflix titles drop out of the service each month, so the availability of the titles below may change. Insider has many lists of movies and TV shows to keep you occupied. You can read them all here. Bradley Cooper said he "liked" the 2018 film "Roma". legend Bradley Cooper said "Roma" was one of his favorite films in 2018. The actor "A Star Is Born" told Variety that the 2018 drama, written and directed by Alfonso Cuarón, was "great". Description of Netflix: Oscar winner Alfonso Cuarón delivers a vivid and moving portrait of a domestic worker's journey through the domestic and political unrest of the 1970s in Mexico. Leonardo DiCaprio said "Taxi Driver" is the "greatest independent film ever made". legend Leonardo DiCaprio is full of praise for the 1976 film. "The one who moved me the most was" Taxi Driver "," Titanic actor told film director Martin Scorsese during an episode of "Charlie Rose". He continued, "I remember watching him at 15 and being pierced by Travis Bickle because I was locked in this character, and I felt incredible empathy for him." DiCaprio continued to praise the film, calling "Taxi Driver" the "greatest independent film ever made". Description of Netflix: Enraged by the moral decay and urban decay of New York, an unleashed taxi driver goes crazy, plotting an assassination and saving a teenage sex worker. Jennifer Lawrence has listed "Step Brothers" as one of her favorite movies. legend Jennifer Lawrence has included the 2008 comedy in her list of must-see movies. The "Hunger Games" actress included the 2008 comedy, which stars Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly, on her list of favorite movies, according to the Hollywood Foreign Press Association. Description of Netflix: Brennan and Dale may be adult men, but that doesn't stop a childish sibling rivalry from breaking out after Brennan’s mother married Dale’s father. Troye Sivan applauded the “alternative ending” in Quentin Tarantino's “Inglourious Basterds”. legend Troy Sivan said "Inglourious Basterds" is one of his favorite movies. source Stefanie Keenan / Getty Images for WSJ. Magazine; Universal "To me, it's a classic, and every time I sort of live a fantasy - it sounds awful - but Nazis who get what they deserve, I agree," said the singer of "Dance to This" at Rotten Tomatoes. . Sivan continued, "This is just one of those films that I feel like I can watch and enjoy at any time. And it's weird too, because I'm Jewish and very sensitive to a lot of Holocaust material and stuff from World War II, and so I'm trying to get away from those movies. But I think maybe because it's pretty fantastic and because of the alternate ending, this movie has always been good for me to watch and I don't mind too much. " Description of Netflix: A Jewish cinema owner in occupied Paris is forced to host a first Nazi, where a group of American soldiers called the Basterds is planning a confrontation. Jonah Hill and Robe Lowe said "GoodFellas" was one of their all time favorites. legend Jonah Hill and Robe Lowe recognized "GoodFellas" as one of the best movies, in their opinion. The "Superbad" actor and the "Wayne’s World" actor named the 1990 crime dama as one of their favorite movies. Hill told the Hollywood Foreign Press Association that he "must have this" on his list, and Lowe tweeted that the movie Scorsese was included in his review of his seven all-time favorite movies. Description of Netflix: Former gangster Henry Hill recounts his colorful but violent rise and fall in a New York criminal family - a high-speed dream turned into a paranoid nightmare. Hill also said that "Moonlight" is a "masterpiece". legend Jonah Hill said he likes "Moonlight". Hill included "Moonlight" on a list of 20 movie recommendations he gave GQ. He said, "Barry Jenkins has been literally the sickest director to go out in decades. He's a great genius. If you look at the circumstances in which this film was shot, the amount of money they had and the stress it was under, it's just a masterpiece. " Description of Netflix: In this acclaimed drama of adulthood, a young man who grows poor, black and gay in a rough neighborhood of Miami tries to find his place in the world. Josh Gad said "Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark" was one of his favorites. legend Josh Gad pointed out that the 1981 film was his favorite in the franchise. The actor "Frozen" tweeted that the 1981 adventure film directed by Steven Spielberg is one of his all time favorites. Gad, who has two daughters, even jokingly asked if 7 is too young so her kids can watch the movie. Description of Netflix: When Indiana Jones is hired by the government to locate the legendary Ark of the Covenant, he finds himself facing the entire Nazi regime. Elizabeth Olsen explained why she thinks "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Fate" is the best film in the Indiana Jones trilogy. legend Alberto E. Rodriguez / Getty Images; Lucasfilm, Ltd. The Marvel star said she was a fan of all Indiana Jones movies, but said "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Fate" was her favorite. "" Indiana Jones, "this trilogy that I just saw on a plane from a vacation I just took. I watched all three and" Temple of Doom "continues to convince me," Olsen told Rotten Tomatoes. She continued, “I know; generally people like "The Last Crusade", and there is a lot of love for "Raiders" because it's the original. But ‘Temple of Doom’ is just, to me, so funny and entertaining and fun. And the kid from "Goonies" - Hot Shot? Short turn. He's so funny, and I grew up with Goonies, but I prefer him over Indiana Jones. " Description of Netflix: Indiana Jones, her young sidekick and a spoiled songbird get more than they bargained for when they go to India in search of a missing magic stone. She also said that "First Wives Club" was a particularly important film throughout her life. legend Elizabeth Olsen said that she loved "First Wives Club" since she was a child. “I watched this movie on VHS every night before bed for maybe two years. I have always felt a very close relationship with middle-aged women. When I was in elementary school, I felt like I understood it. I don't know why, "she told Rotten Tomatoes. Olsen added: "It's three great, three great actresses, and the final song and the dance at the end, 'You Don't Own Me', was something Sarah Paulson and I recreated several times, filming 'Martha Marcy May Marlene. "It had a new meaning, all of a sudden." Description of Netflix: Following the suicide of a friend after her husband abandoned her for a younger model, three women plot against their exes twice. Olivia Munn shared that she watched "Groundhog Day" so often that it was "as if it were Groundhog Day". legend Olivia Munn said that she regularly watches the film. The Love Wedding Repeat actress said the 1993 film, starring Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell, was one of her all-time favorites in an interview with Rotten Tomatoes. “I watch this film as if it were Groundhog Day. I watch it all the time. It's so good. It's one of the best movies of all time, and it's so smart. Whenever I look at it, I just find different little things or think of something different. I mean, it was a film that, as we see on paper, can be difficult to make, but [Murray] is just such a brilliant actor and he's so adorable without being boring, and Andie MacDowell was so great in it, "said Munn. Description of Netflix: Sent to cover the annual groundhog ritual Punxsutawney Phil, a self-absorbed meteorologist on television mysteriously begins to live the same day again and again. Julianne Moore said that "Rosemary’s Baby" has the power to "take you cinematographically elsewhere." legend Julianne Moore spoke of her admiration for the 1968 film in the New York Times. “I think this is the most incredible example of female paranoia that exists. I mean, here is a woman who is trapped in a situation in which every figure of authority she turns to, every avenue she explores, turns against her. She finds her power not to overcome the horror of her situation but, in a way, to accept it, "said the actress" Still Alice "to the New York Times. She continued: “The work of the camera is extraordinary; the action is superb. It’s a cinema film. And this is just one of those films which, I don't know, take you cinematographically elsewhere. It's the kind of movies I like. " Description of Netflix: A woman is delighted to learn that she is pregnant. But as her belly grows, the more confident she becomes that her unborn child is in great danger. As for Joe Manganiello, the actor chose "The Shawshank Redemption". legend Joe Manganiello listed "The Shawshank Redemption" as one of his favorite movies. The actor from "Magic Mike" shared that the 1994 film, which starred Tim Robbins, Morgan Freeman and Bob Gunton, had entered his top seven list. Description of Netflix: Supervised for murder, honest banker Andy Dufresne begins a new life at Shawshank Prison and gradually forms a close bond with the older Red inmate. Taylor Swift revealed that the Netflix movie "Someone Great" inspired her song "Death by a Thousand Cuts". legend Taylor Swift explained the impact of the film on the song. When asked in May 2019 what his favorite movie was during a series of "hot questions" on "The Ellen DeGeneres Show", Swift chose "Someone Great" from Netflix. The answer turned out to be an Easter egg for "Death by a Thousand Cuts", which is featured on the singer's seventh album "Lover". After the album was released, Swift said the 2019 comedy helped her write the breakup song. The director of the film, Jennifer Kaytin Robinson, then shared this 1989 album by Swift "which inspired me and" Someone Great "." After learning Robinson's appreciation for his album, Swift told Elvis Duran: "I just wrote a song based on something she did, she did while listening to something I done, which is the most meta thing that ever happened to me. Description of Netflix: In the aftermath of a blind break, music journalist Jenny is preparing for a new start - and a final adventure with her closest friends. Rian Johnson said that "Raging Bulls" is one of the movies that defines him. legend Rian Johnson has included "Raging Bulls" in his list of films that have influenced him. The director of "Knives Out" included the 1980 film, with Robert De Niro and Joe Pesci, on his list of four films that define him on Twitter. "Wait however, if these defined me, I would be a pretty messed up person, can we use another word?" Johnson joked, referring to his choices of "Brazil", "Ghostbusters" and "8 1/2". Description of Netflix: This grainy biopic of brutal boxer Jake LaMotta depicts a tormented soul rising to the top of his sport, only to be defeated by his demons. Gabrielle Union listed “Bad Boys II” as one of her favorite movies. legend Gabrielle Union tweeted about the 2003 movies. For her list of four films that define her, the actress of "Bring It On" chose the 2003 film, which stars Will Smith and Martin Lawrence, Description of Netflix: Miami cops Mike Lowrey and Marcus Burnett return to investigate a Cuban cartel as ecstasy enters Florida in the midst of a mob war and internal strife. Ross Lynch explained that "the theory of everything" made him "enjoy life". legend Ross Lynch said that "The Theory of Everything" made his list of favorite movies. “It was also a film that struck me quite hard. "The theory of everything." I like what she says about life, "he told Rotten Tomatoes. Lynch added, "It made me appreciate life, about everything. In the end, I think these are some of my favorite movies, where you leave the theater, you sit back and you want to be a better person, or you want to enjoy life more. " Description of Netflix: As his self-esteem grows in the physical world, Stephen Hawking's body is ravaged by ALS, forcing his growing dependence on his devoted wife, Jane. He also said he liked "About Time" and called it "uplifting film." legend The singer also said he liked "About Time". "I'm still debating whether or not I want this on my list, but have you ever seen 'About Time' with Domhnall Gleeson? Same thing. An uplifting film," said the singer during a interview with Rotten Tomatoes. Lynch continued, "Makes you appreciate the time you have." Description of Netflix: When Tim learns that the men in his family can travel back in time and change their own lives, he decides to return and win the woman of his dreams. https://oltnews.com/17-celebrity-recommended-movies-to-watch-on-netflix-business-insider?_unique_id=5ea0e86c45352

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standrewumcspokenword · 7 years ago

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Foundations II: Why We Need An Ark

Last week, we started with the foundational story of Noah. This is one of those stories that grips me. Not because it’s a great history lesson – it’s not. It’s not because of the great kids messages about it. But it grips me because this story has gotten under my skin and I’ve seen myself in it, especially in a wrong way. It’s so easy to get this story wrong. It looks like Noah is alone in the world. So when I feel misunderstood, alone, like a street preacher on the corner raving against the world, I justify it by saying I’m a Noah, warning everybody.

But last week, we learned that this really isn’t that kind of story. It’s not a story about a man warning others and getting to be right in the end. In the Bible, we don’t get to be right or prove we’re right. But we do get to see that God is right.

And Noah’s story is about God. God helping out one ordinary man who was just doing what he was supposed to do. And who built an ark.

It was a story drawn from Epic of Gilgamesh, a script flipped to become the Hebrew people’s story of going through deep waters.

Genesis tells us it rained 40 days and 40 nights. We can’t hear that without referring to another foundational story in Exodus that includes the number 40. The story of the Exodus itself, where the Hebrew people left bondage in Egypt but couldn’t get to where they wanted to go for how many years? They wandered, like a boat floating, for 40 years. That number didn’t just wander in there. It’s there for a reason.

The ark is their story. It’s not just about one person. But a people.

“Ark” is a curious word. It’s an odd word when we see it in Genesis. The word used there is “tebah” [taw-bah]. The Hebrew people had a word for ship or boat (on-ee-yaw) that was used 36 times – including the boat Jonah was in… before he was swallowed by the whale. So, why isn’t that word used here?

There’s only one other time when taw-bah is used. In the beginning of Exodus, the Pharaoh decreed that all Hebrew boys should be thrown in the Nile River. Exodus 2:3 says, though, that after a boy named Moses was born, his mother, in an act of civil disobedience, “got a papyrus basket for him, and plastered it with bitumen and pitch; she put the child in it and placed it among the reeds on the bank of the river. Exodus 2:3” The papyrus basket is the taw-bah, it’s the ark. By it, Moses was saved.

The ark saved God’s people. In the days of Noah, God saved those on the ark through water. We say those words in our baptism covenant, the one where we join the church. By the ark, we go through the waters we encounter. The ark is a place of salvation. It’s what preserves life, even in the midst of death.

If you like etymology as much as I do, the word “ark” actually comes from an Egyptian word for coffin, but not the kind where the dead reside. A coffin in that culture is to be the boat that takes someone to a new life, it is the passage from this present world to another one.

The ark brings the people to new life. It brings us to a new home.

A few weeks ago, I read a headline that said “28 things Millennials are killing in cold blood… will anything stop their rampage.” It wasn’t about a crime spree. But it is blaming those coming of age now for not buying what we used to. I love how the next generation is always to blame for that kind of thing. I mean… I bet folks in the 50’s were talking about how the new generation wasn’t buying Big Band and Swing Music.

Change can come like a flood.

The headline accused millennials of killing, killing… golf courses, movie theaters, malls, even bars of soap, and chain restaurants (except Olive Garden). The empty malls and restaurants are becoming coffins of dead stores, sitting idle for years. Until the roof is ripped off and something changes. Until what was meant as something dead, becomes a way to new life.

I mean, look at the gym. Millennials almost “killed” the traditional gym, because none of them could afford the monthly membership. Until things changed. Gyms recognized that millennials are much more health conscious than previous generations. But they want more than just weights to lift and a track to run on. They want an upscale experience. They want towels. And above all, they want something that offers them a chance to specialize, to challenge themselves, and to connect. Big spaces, little gatherings.

They also want it to be a spiritual experience. A conversion. It hits all of those. They challenge themselves beyond where they are now. They learning a lot about a specific kind of exercise or music. And they connect with others in the process, for the most part having fun while they do it. Even if that connection is a social app that gives the feel of a small group. “Experts call it the tribe mentality, led by millennials who aren't afraid to spend more money to feel like they're part of a shared experience and community.” You’re there to sweat, to stretch, and maybe even scream out in pain at a new move. But little by little, health comes.

That sweaty, smelly, irritable, soothing, connecting, pained laughing experience is an ark. It’s a way to survive the onslaught of bad choices that come out way. It’s a challenge that follows a blueprint of our God-given desire to move and connect so that we can become something more than we used to be.

The experience wasn’t unlike those on the ark who gathered the animals together, fed them, scooped their stuff out, and kept the lion from snacking on the sheep. And that’s why for ages people have compared the ark to the Church.

Despite the blueprint that God gave us, we know the Church is a human institution. We don’t get it right. In fact, we confuse Noah’s ark with the ark of the Covenant – even though they are very different words in Hebrew. That box was a representation of God’s presence, containing the tablets of the Law. I say that because sometimes the Church gets it wrong when we quote that Law at people rather than be in the ark with them. Or offering them an ark.

Here is where we sweat together, work together, getting up earlier than we would, and keep our worst tendencies at bay so we don’t eat each other alive.

We laugh. We feed hungry kids at a summer lunch program. We boil corn at a Cornfest. Because despite our flaws, we are getting closer to a new promise of what God is doing. We are here because we realize that we can’t be an ark all by ourselves. We can’t ark alone. If you look at the story, the only people who stayed put were probably those who got flooded out. Change comes. We need an ark to get us through it.

We need an ark. We can’t do this alone. If you know someone who feels like they’re “spiritual but not religious” and can make it on their own, bless them. In 10 years, they’ll still be in the same place or worse, while we are gathered here for something else. We are a church. A church full of those with questions, skeptical belief, praying while asking what I’m doing here, firm in our convictions, sure of our doubts, faithful in our practice, yes… we’re all types of people here. Because this place, this church, is not my Church or your Church but it’s the Church of Jesus Christ. It’s not just for those who wear rainbow flags, American flags, United Nations flags, or any other group under the sun. But it’s for all. Because this is not where I come to have my understanding of God spooned out to me in same way I’ve always known. But it’s where we come to ark together. To be Church together. To know the God who came to us in the flesh and lived among us in Jesus Christ.

We need an ark. Because the world doesn’t stay the same. Because the things we’ve depended on in the past won’t always be there. Because one prophet alone doesn’t change a thing. But a prophet willing to climb on a boat, willing to ark with a bunch of unruly animals can change the world.

Despite all our skepticism, we make room to believe. To believe in God and each other. So that even those who tick me off the most – and there are none like that for me – a first in a long while – but yes, even those can be a part of this boat. They can be a part of this life-preserving force that will be there to resist the self-destructive waves around us.

Let’s get in this together.

Let’s have a CornFest where we celebrate the gift you bring. Where we’ll be sweaty, smelly, and pretty exhausted afterwards. But we’re doing something amazing together. Building a place where all can come. A place where we are invited to the table – whether you have $8 or not, even though, Mark, I know we want folks to give. But we are invited to a table that’s bigger than one event or one day. But an ark that will sustain us. A place that will keep us. Until we reach the Promised Land.

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jonahs-arks · 7 months ago

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Update on my base and stuff <3

Got a 120 Doedic who has been mega useful for this base addition up top.

Honestly, all I need right now is a bloody Anky because the crystal for the glass for my house is an ass to get. Other than that, everything is going smoothly. 👍

My mom also gave me a male Argy, so now I have an imprinted one ^^

#still looking for a high level Gigantoraptor so I can just steal babies from the wild and hold my own creatures in its basket lol #ark survival ascended #ark #jonah talks #jonahs ark stuff

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longislandweekly-blog · 7 years ago

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Get up close to Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel

Up Close: Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel exhibit is on display at The Oculus through July 23 (Photos by Kimberly Dijkstra)

From now until July 23, The Oculus at Westfield World Trade Center is home to a series of near-life size reproductions of Michelangelo’s magnificent frescoes found inside the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel. The exhibit makes one of the world’s greatest artistic achievements accessible to the general public and allows viewers to get closer to the artwork than could ever be possible in Rome.

“Santiago Calatrava, the architect of The Oculus, envisioned this building as a people’s cathedral,” said Scott Sanders, Westfield’s creative head of global entertainment, “so we at Westfield decided to begin bringing a series of experiential art exhibits in. We thought who better than Michelangelo to kick things off with these iconic Sistine Chapel frescoes.”

Westfield collaborated with Austrian photographer Erich Lessing and Brooklyn-based design team Susan Holland & Company to bring this inaugural installation to fruition. More than 30 scenes from the epic ceiling are displayed individually, depicting scenes from the Book of Genesis. Standing tall, towering above it all is an almost-to-scale reproduction of Michelangelo’s The Last Judgment, which covers the whole altar wall of the Sistine Chapel. The massive work had to be created in Germany and assembled in the United States.

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The Oculus itself is a work of art. It is a natural fit for the sculptural building to house extraordinary art in the wide-open, brightly lit gallery space on the main floor.

Art historian and researcher Lynn Catterson has visited the Sistine Chapel at least once every year for the past 20 years and she considers this exhibit a breath of fresh air. “Despite the fact that they are photographs and they are dislocated, there’s something very special about it.”

Taking photographs is not allowed inside the Sistine Chapel, which can see as many as 25,000 visitors per day, moved through very quickly. Seeing the art up close is an entirely different experience. Even Catterson, who is intimately familiar with the frescoes, has seen things at this exhibit that she has never noticed before.

Lynn Catterson points out a staple—an attempt to stop the cracking of the fresco ceiling.

“The Creation of the Sun, Moon and Earth” depicts God, in a colossal burst of cosmic energy, creating the sun. “I’ve looked at this hundreds of times and [today I saw] the lady under God’s arm—she’s blinded by the light,” said Catterson.

Catterson also pointed out the cracks and staples visible in the large-scale photographs. The cracks are structural and it is a problem the Vatican needs to address. Much like Michelangelo’s David in Florence, the number of tourists passing through the room cause the floor to vibrate resulting in a crack in the statue’s leg.

“There’s some strange stuff you can’t see from the floor of the chapel,” Catterson explained, such as a portrait-like face peering from behind two generic figures in the Noah’s Ark scene, or amorphous “whale” in the Jonah and the Whale scene that Michelangelo painted from his imagination.

A visit to Up Close: Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel is only a train ride away.

The Last Judgment is so full of metaphor, volumes could be written on the subject. One such detail is the realization that Michelangelo painted his face onto the skin of St. Bartholomew, likening his relationship with the current pope to being flayed alive.

These and many other hidden elements are brought into the forefront through this exhibit.

Michelangelo’s frescoes have remained intact for centuries. “Even if it gets old and cruddy,” Catterson said, “it’s spectacular no matter what.”

A visit to Up Close: Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel will not replace a visit to the Vatican, but it will afford viewers the time to experience the beauty and the opportunity to form a more intimate relationship with the art.

The exhibit is open daily through July 23 between 10 a.m. to 9 p.m. in The Oculus at Westfield World Trade Center, 186 Greenwich St., in Manhattan. Ticket prices start at $15. Audio guides are available for $3. Visit www.westfield.com/upclose for tickets.

Step inside the people's cathedral—The Oculus at Westfield World Trade Center—to view near-life size reproductions of Michelangelo's most famous frescoes in the Sistine Chapel. View our photo gallery of the limited-time exhibit. Get up close to Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel From now until July 23, The Oculus at Westfield World Trade Center is home to a series of near-life size reproductions of Michelangelo’s magnificent frescoes found inside the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel.

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houstonlocalus-blog · 8 years ago

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Give Praise to the Formula: An Interview with Sneaks

Sneaks. Photo: Nina Corcoran

There is a beauty in brevity. There is an art to only saying this, truncating communication to stress only intended meaning, the importance is in meaning and intention. There is the idea of having all of this, but only needing this, the magic within these elements, not a subtraction, but the maximizing of these things to express this idea. We live in a world that stresses commodity and volume, an idea of all as complete, but a complete self is not one that is dependent upon the all, it is in just, just this. Eva Moolchan of Washington D.C. performs under the moniker Sneaks. Combining minimalist hip hop, dance, punk, and shades of electro, she gets away with the formula, she gives praise to the formula.

“So I have a rhythm,” notes Moolchan. “I kind of let it guide me, whatever comes up with the rhythm in that moment is what I kind of improvise on, usually.”

Rhythm is an important aspect of our lives, locating the beat, knowing where the beat is, knowing what to repeat and what to abandon after so many repetitions, understanding the groove and working within that groove. The groove is the guide, but there is also what happens, in that groove, scientifically, in theory. How many words in a sentence, how many notes within a percussive pattern, how many syllables within a sentence that match the rhythm pattern of this percussive stance? How many times to repeat this rhythm inside of a defined time structure, using this lyrical pattern inside of this rhythmic structure?

“I work with these kinds of restrictions in a way, I don’t really know how far I can go, I test it out, and you know when the song hits the spot, so… yeah,” Moolchan so eloquently states. “I feel like I started with very little, I was in my dorm room, and I didn’t really know what was going to happen. It was surprise for me to go minimally. But in the past I’ve always appreciated minimal music, like electronic wise and even hip hop and rock, there is this sort of directness I enjoy.”

Directness yes, but also mystery. A lost jewel on this world of over-expression and reveal. The therapists have convinced us to share more, to put it all on the table, but doesn’t that basically reveal what to rob you of, what to take from you? There is the beauty in discovery and interpretation, can it be that simple? When listening to Sneaks there is a notion of looking beyond the surface, noticing the subtleties within the picture. Upon repeated listens, Sneaks reveals more as form sets in. It is like looking at a tree, then noticing patterns of bark, ants crawling up the side, dead leaves vs. live ones, branch forms, roots, etc. But upon first gaze, it is a just a tree.

Sneaks works with maybe three instruments: bass keyboard, percussion. Her first album, “Gymnastics” maybe topped out at 15 minutes, her latest is around that too, but the meditations within these structures is an exercise of restraint and control. There is a matter of style, an acknowledgement of style as a determinant; adapting to a self-set specification, making things yours as opposed to making your thing fit everything else. The beauty of Sneaks’ music is the dedication, the furnishing of the space, the pooling of resources within the skeletal frame, I will create a world, with many scenes and settings using only these colors.

“Going into it, I think I had certain components, but I’m always curious and I think that curiosity leads me to strange places and sometimes it’s unfortunate, and sometimes it can be a little strange, the curiosity, but I’m open to it. And also, a little back story, I was in an apartment in Baltimore and my friend Luke actually had all these keyboards around the house and it was a snowstorm, and I was like ‘oh my god, no one’s in the house!’ and I have to her alone and so I just explored the instruments he had and that’s kind of what you hear on ‘It’s A Myth.’”

A Sneaks song, instead of Sneaks doing a version. “It’s A Myth” is only her second proper album. It features a little more instrumentation, adjustments within the frame. There is more to the whole (in concept), the songs working as individual pieces but also in the aggregate.

“When you said ‘from this ark to that ark’ I instantly resonated with that terminology because I feel the same about it,” comments Moolchan, “ I think it is, as an artist, only my second album, I’m still learning very much in the process, trying to collect stuff together and trying to differentiate which is worth it, which is not, and with ‘Myth’ it’s definitely a little bit different, but I think there’s something for everyone in a way, if you open up to it.”

The album was recorded in the studio of and with Mary Timony and with Jonah Takagi which is different from maybe the insular process of recording “Gymnastics.”

“I think that was inevitable (a bit of outside influence), going in the studio I know it was going to be a different processs from the first time because it’s coming out on a recognized label (Merge), so you have a bigger platform, so with a bigger platform, you want to have a bigger studio, and with bigger studio you want to have, like, people, and then it just kind of expands, which I think you can hear on the album.”

Sneaks will be in town with the equally superb Downtown Boys on March 10th Walter’s Downtown. As directness is a motivation, there is nothing more direct than a live show, and I feel the music will excel in this environment. For all the cerebration and conjecture are irrelevant to the moment and the feeling, and that is what the live experience is, the moment and the feeling.

“Yeah… yeah… yeah,” added Moolchan.

Sneaks performs at Walter’s Downtown with Downtown Boys and Giant Kitty on Friday, March 10. Doors are at 8 pm and tickets are $10 at the door.

Give Praise to the Formula: An Interview with Sneaks this is a repost

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