#just curator of the dead for nova then

[captainyuutsu]

Do you have any character romances you're planning or excited for? :D

I try to avoid in-character romances, honestly. Not for any reason in particular, I just don't

That said, I've twice fallen into the trap of "oh, your character like my character? Returned affection!" which is an odd thing I noticed I did

Both are incomplete, I guess, since the first's game is indefinite hiatus (Nophelia - Nova and Ophelia) and the other was in a game the other and I left because the DM and their sibling went super weird

[dorminchu]

for want of a sagittarius

In the Forest of Hope, Captain Olimar attempts to retrieve the remaining ship parts without any Blue Pikmin.

a/n: Based (loosely) on a couple of advanced gameplay strategies; some of them I'm more proficient at than others.

Yesterday, he'd curated a swarm of twenty five reds into seventy and one yellow into fifteen. A single well-thrown pikmin could crush a dwarf bulborb. Ignoring the smaller grub-dogs in favor of their larger counterparts presented a new risk; the dwarf might call for help. The pikmin, newly sprouted or budding or bearing torn petals, did not pass judgement, did not rebel, despite his patterns of failure and vigilant correction. He'd brought down the stone barrier directly south of camp.

Today, the captain spent gathering ship parts. A volley of bomb-rocks took care of the remaining barriers in reach. Yet, the radar showed three parts left; one past a light barrier to the north surrounded by water, one on a plateau accessible past the stone wall near the original site of the yellow Onion, and one across the lake.

With two yellows armed, he took to the clearing where he'd found the Nova Rocket. Given the distance from the tip of the shore to the top of the gate, it should be possible to break down the gate with only two bombs. The first dropped its bomb and scampered across the lip of the chasm and the barrier crumbled halfway. The second yellow bounced off the side of the wall and dropped its bomb-rock, extinguished. It thrashed about in the water, towards the sound of the whistle. It clambered to shore and raised itself on spindly arms before collapsing again. Its leaf weighed down, beady eyes glazed and fixed on him, skin damp to the touch. It did not rise.

He got another bomb-rock and threw the first yellow over again. It shuffled over towards the gate from the side and dropped its bomb too far to make a difference.

The captain whistled sharply. Another bomb-rock. Then another.

By the time the gate crumbled he'd run out of bomb-rocks and the posies were blooming. He threw the yellow at one of the aptly-colored targets. He dismissed it and followed course back to the ship. He took out a posse of reds and yellows and tossed them over the precipice to cross himself, at the other end. Confronted with another gate, stronger than the last but at the very least, not made of stone. Bringing it down would've been easier with bomb-rocks, but he threw his squadron against the barrier and double checked the radar. There should be a part on the other side of this gate.

Then, just a matter of luring the beast inside with a small squadron and directing the larger share toward the Radiation Canopy. He'd escorted it through the gate. He rushed the small squadron towards it. The beetle lost interest. Thankfully, the radar detected no further ship oarts.

Next morning, he took the southern path. Two bulborbs and a dwarf. After dispatching them with a swarm of reds, ten yellows thrown over the edifice, one by one, cleared a path forward. The ground burst open. A bird-like monster with a serpentine body. It moved too quickly for the yellows to reach in time and quickly dove below the ground with half-a-dozen reds in its beak. Reds were more efficient, heavier than the yellows and hit harder.

Mid-afternoon, he had a dozen pellets to make up for his losses, the Geiger Counter, a few droplets of nectar. The radar detected one last part. Across the lake. At the shore there was only a bundle of sticks and sheargrubs beneath the dirt. 

The pikmin, swarming, overtook the sheargrubs with ease. The rest began to beat on the wood with fists and heads and stems. The captain explored the length of the pond and found nothing but wogpoles. The bridge was finished and the posse stood idle. Nothing but a couple posies and a dead end. On the cliff adjacent, another bundle of sticks, too far to be reached by conventional means. Just a small patch of shore on the island, but no means of climbing further. 

The ache in his muscles had been there since morning. The captain sagged slightly where he stood. The Dolphin's capabilities should allow him to explore new territory. If only there was a suitable way to deal with large bodies of water...

He was walking back across the bridge, looking for a different angle. A gleam caught the sun's dying rays.

The captain doubled back and took a red and threw it across the watery expanse, wading in, whistling it to follow. It thrashed along, wailing, until it couldn't stay above the surface any longer.

The captain waded back to shore, back across the bridge to the Onions. He bumped a single yellow from the throng and ran towards the bridge and to the water's edge, throwing it with all his strength. A few more reds rushed to follow and submerged before they were even halfway across.

Careless and exhausted. Making stupid mistakes. Should call it a night.

No. Every day was critical. He had to be sure this plan was even feasible, accounting for the difference between red and yellow's airtime. He picked another yellow and threw it as far as possible. Waded across the river, to the small embankment, whistling the pikmin to shore. It shook itself dry and looked around, pale, at ease. He whistled and tossed it to higher ground, where it naturally pathed towards the unrolled bridge. He repeated this process with painstaking care until he had ten pikmin safely across.

The captain took a yellow and threw it at the partially-constructed bridge. The yellow bounced off the side of the bundle and crashed into the water below, thrashing above the surface. He whistled it quickly to safety. He ought to have been more conservative with culling bulborbs and fauna alike. He had nothing left over to replace the pikmin he'd lost.

As the sun kissed the horizon, the captain crossed the newly-made bridge and came back with the Sagittarius. His son, safe back home, would be eager to hear of his adventures.

[independentartistbuzz]

Indie 5-0 Holiday Edition: Lizzie Thomas

Lizzie Thomas brings her signature blend of jazz and soul to the holiday season with This Christmas, an album that redefines what festive music can be. Eschewing the predictable and often kitschy seasonal fare, Thomas crafts a collection that is sultry, sophisticated, and deeply soulful. From the very first notes of the title track, it’s clear this is no ordinary holiday album. Instead, it’s a lush, inventive reimagining of seasonal classics that sets a new standard for festive music.

Her rendition of “Christmastime Is Here” features a bossa nova-inspired arrangement, with Leandro Pellegrino’s spacious and evocative guitar work providing the perfect foundation. Thomas’s vocal interpretation is rich and nuanced, breathing new life into the familiar tune. Paul McCartney’s “Wonderful Christmastime” is transformed into a jazzy, urbane piece, with Thomas’s playful scatting elevating it beyond its sing-along roots.

Even the more traditional offerings, such as “Jingle Bells” and a hauntingly beautiful version of “Star of Wonder,” feel fresh and compelling in her hands. With This Christmas, Lizzie Thomas not only reinvents the holiday playlist but sets a high bar for anyone seeking to blend the warmth of tradition with the artistry of modern jazz.

What is your favorite holiday song and why?

I have several favorite holiday songs and I’ve recorded them all! Yes, that is a shameless plug to listen to my music :).

My latest obsession is This Christmas.  It’s hip, speaks to the present moment, and it’s not nostalgic.   It appears as the first single to my newest Christmas Album, showcasing my current band and soulful vibe. Written in 1970 by Nadine Mckinnor & Donny,  inspired by Nat King Cole. It is Black American Music at its finest. Thank you, Donny Hathaway!  

What were the traditions around the holidays in your house growing up? 

Well, I loved decorating the tree and playing Christmas music!  The tree decorating started over the Thanksgiving holiday weekend. When I lived in NJ, we would actually go to a tree lot, pick out a tree and chop it down! It was the most fun. The smell of cinnamon, clove and evergreen filled the house.  I created a candle that is similar to this. It's called Evening Jazz,  a curated scent of clove, cinnamon and palo santo fashioned after that scent memory from Christmas. 

If you could record your dream holiday duet with anyone dead or alive what would it be?

ELVIS PRESLEY every time. I’m getting excited even writing this about him. :)

What is the first holiday track you ever learned? 

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, It appears on Santa Baby. I just love the song and how dreamy and lovely it is.  I love listening to Nat King Cole’s version. 

What are you currently working on?

My upcoming album Awakening.  Thrilling to not only write the music and the lyrics to these songs, but also to produce the album coming out in Spring 2025.  It is an intimate project blending my love for  Neo-soul, R&B, and Jazz. 

[soundsof71]

FIVE ALBUMS YOU NEED IN YOUR LIFE RIGHT NOW!!!

aka, My Top 5 of 2020, but I didn’t want to seem too retro!

Yep, I have a classic rock blog. Yep, I think that the best rock and roll in history is being made RIGHT NOW. And yep, ALL of it is being made by women. 

(Shown at top, Nova Twins by Ant Adams [x] and The Tissues by Michael Espleta [x]. I was planning to make a collage of all my faves in concert, but  not all of them were able to play in 2020. Both of these photos are pre-pandemic.)

There’s been quite a bit of movement on this list, and all five of these have spent some time at Number 1 as the year has done (gestures broadly) All This™. Anyone looking for rock and roll is going to dig any of these. 

Rocking out is just the start of it, though. Wrestling with my bipolarity and schizophrenia is tough on a good day, and there haven’t been too many of those lately. The plague has also taken its toll around me, with two family members dead and a third who’s doing better, but will likely never be all the way back. (Mask up, kids!)

I’ve written plenty about how deeply Taylor Swift and Phoebe Bridgers have moved me this year (and will do so again), but in those rare stretches where I’ve had enough spare energy to listen to music at all these days, I’ve mostly been looking for more than beautiful music. Heavy times need heavy lifting, and I find that in heavy music. 

The five albums here have all helped carry me, pointing the way toward light.

1) BULLY, SUGAREGG

Alicia Bognanno is a force of nature as a guitarist, vocalist, composer, and producer/engineer. (While working on her degree in audio engineering at MTSU, she interned with Steve Albini, who remains both a fan and an admirer). A Nashville transplant from Minnesota, she’s still a natural fit in her home on Sub Pop: as heavy as Soundgarden, as hooky as Sleater-Kinney. 

I was blown away hearing her searing honesty while working through her discoveries of her bisexuality and bipolarity (double bi!), and her triumphant roar lifts me out of my seat every time I listen.

“She sings the hell out of [these songs], her voice fraying to the point of combustion every time she launches to the top of her range. This is phenomenal music for converting anger and anxiety into unbound joy.” ~Stereogum, Album of the Week

Also, check this fantastic interview with Alicia in the New York Times talking about what she’s gone through to get here. 

TURN IT UP!

2) GANSER, LOOK AT THAT SKY

Ganser syndrome is a rare dissociative disorder characterized by nonsensical or wrong answers to questions and other dissociative symptoms such as fugue, amnesia or conversion disorder, often with visual pseudohallucinations and a decreased state of consciousness. ~Wikipedia #it me

‘Just Look At That Sky’ doesn’t presume to offer solutions; it’s an honest document of what it feels like to wade through anxiety, day by day, not a survival guide or handbook of answers none of us actually have. Whether or not you pay attention to this, Ganser are simply one of the most invigorating, exciting new bands. ~Clashmusic

I saw one very positive review compare Ganser to a cross between Fugazi and Sonic Youth, but I think they hit much, much harder than either of those. And as you can surely guess, I also deeply relate to their themes of mental illness and dissociation while trying to make it through All This™. But my god, are they TIGHT. This is a BAND.

Ganser has two fantastic lead vocalists, and on “Bad Form”, bassist/vocalist Alicia Gaines wrote the song for the voice of keyboardist/vocalist Nadia Garofolo. Alicia also wrote a FANTASTIC essay on the strains that making an album during a pandemic puts on the mental health of the entire band at talkhouse: “Writing, recording, reaching out, balancing relationships outside and within the band, I found (and still find) myself under-rested and agitated to no particular end. More than not doing enough, I was not enough.” 

(If you can’t relate to that, I can’t relate to you, tbh.)

This video also does a fantastic job of showing dissociation. TURN IT UP!

3) THE TISSUES, BLUE FILM

“Blue Film” is a ten-song shot of dagger-twisting electro-(s)punk. It’s completely addictive from the very first listen. The tour de force is “Rear Window”, an art-punk masterpiece of slashing guitars and mad caterwauling. Copious doses of jaunty poetics and social commentary reward the earlooker patient enough to untangle Kristine Nevrose’s hysterical meowing about intergalactic salt shakers and hysterectomies, but I’m too emotionally invested to look under the hood.” ~ Sputnik Music

“Rear Window” is in fact my most-played 2020 track. TURN IT UP!

4) GUM COUNTRY, SOMEWHERE

It’s not all heavy! But even when I’m looking for something light and hooky, I need a bite, and Gum Country has done it with the kind of swirly, feeedback-laden wall of sound that Lush or Yo La Tengo would make if they lived in LA. (Recent transplants to SoCal from Vancouver, I do think that the sunshine has gone straight to their heads, in the very best way.)

Indie music nerds will know guitarist/composer/singer/front woman Courtney Garvin from The Courtneys, and she really does throw up a glorious wall of sound. I adore this video too! Sweet, swinging, fun -- and yes, the drummer is playing keyboard with one hand while slapping the skins with the other! 

I mentioned earlier that all five of these albums have spent part of the year at #1 on my list -- I think that this one might have spent the longest stretch there. Like all shoegaze, even as hooky as this, the truth of these songs is revealed in VOLUME. TURN IT UP!

5) NOVA TWINS, WHO ARE THE GIRLS?

Now, THIS is heavy! Amy Lee (vocals, guitar) and Georgia South (bass) are fucking LOUD, and insanely intense. A mix of grime, hip-hop, metal, punk, and good old rock and roll, they’re a harder-hitting, more theatrical Prodigy, with a pyre of intensity that recalls the heaviest howls of Rage Against The Machine. Indeed, Nova Twins spent a good bit of 2019 playing heavy metal festivals and toured as openers for Prophets of Rage. (Tom Morello has been a fan and supporter from the beginning.)

As you may have noted in the photo at the top of this post, their musical audacity extends to visuals too: they design their own clothes, hair, and makeup, they art direct their own videos, and more. They impress the hell out of me, and I’ve been a huge fan since hearing their first singles in 2018. I’ll plant a flag and say that Georgia South in particular is the most innovative musician on any instrument in any genre right now, but they’re both absolutely monsters. 

I’m honestly not at all sure that #5 is high enough for this, but I’m absolutely certain that after this video, you’re gonna need to rest for a little. LOL

“Taxi” is the story of two gleefully and creatively violent women shaking up the local crime syndicate as they use a vintage cab for their moving murder scene. This is the movie that Robert Rodriguez wishes he was making with Sin City, if it were combined with Blade Runner and The Matrix. And gangsters. And a snake.

I’m gonna take your crown I’m gonna, I’m gonna bleed you out We demand it by the hour We devour, control, power

I’m gonna burn it down Even the, even the royals bow

So not the same kind of therapeutic work being explored on this rekkid, but you know what? Fucking shit up is therapeutic too! 

Definitely take this full screen, and for the love of fuck, TURN IT UP!

SO. Not done with the best of 2020 yet? I’m sure not! A lot of my favorite songs aren’t on albums (at least not yet), so for an unedited list of everything I’m finding, check out my Spotify list, 2020: Shuffle This List! 268 songs and counting, over 15 hours, and not finished yet. I’m still checking out everyone else’s Best of lists (including yours! Message me links to yours!!!), so will probably be adding to this for most of 2021, too. 

And for more banging tracks by women from 2020, plus a few 2019 gems that I’m still grooving to, check out my more thoroughly curated Spotify playlist Women Bangers: A Tumblr New Classics Jam. (You’ll see a couple of these tracks there!) I’m working on a YouTube playlist and an essay to properly roll that one out. I’m also still tweaking the ending, but the three dozen or so tunes there are definitely bangin’.

Tell me if you hear anything you dig here, and tell me what YOU’VE found! We’re gonna get through this together.

Yr pal, Timmy

[nycorix]

I made this ghost/22 playlist on a whim after reading Archivist Wasp/Latchkey for the first time, and I haven’t been able to stop making playlists for this fandom since 😂 

I like to curate my playlists into stories/character deep dives, so all of them are ordered and I have specific thoughts about each song! I’ve posted some of my playlists on Twitter already, but this feels like a good place to put those specific thoughts lmao so here goes Title: Carrion Boy Description: A ghost/22 playlist that’s got songs for both his timelines, all mixed up and shaken together just like him oops

1. Roll Call [the neighbourhood] 22's whole existence while living 2. Falling Off [the people's thieves] The ghost's whole existence since dying 3. I'm So Sorry [nico collins] 22 @ The Director/Latchkey 4. Bullet [riot child] 06/22's uhhh unique relationship with both each other and their circumstances 5. Say You Believe [midnight divide] 22's (platonic!!!!) strong feelings for Kit 6. 1x1 [bring me the horizon, nova twin] The ghost's misery strong platonic feelings regarding Foster's memory loss 7. Blue (Da Ba Dee) [jonathan young, toxic eternity, travis carte] This song is as chaotic as he feels to me, flawless external calm and grace but always internally screaming 8. No Mercy [zayde wølf] …….22. It's just 22/ghost's fighting style (especially when fighting 06 lmao) 9. Solo [prismo] 22 honestly thinks he's so hardcore (he's not wrong but also. Drama king much) 10. Where The Lonely Ones Roam [digital daggers] Kit @ 22, Ghost @ Foster. This one gives me chills ngl 11. When Dragons Cry [bo johnson] 22&06's requiem for the latchkey ghosts 12. Stampede [alexander jean, lindsey stirling] For this one I'm literally just picturing 06/22 wasting a bunch of mechs/ghosts/whatever, specifically That One Scene in Firebreak/AW flashback where they destroy the mechs and look appallingly cool doing it 13. City of the Dead [eurielle] The ghost in the ghost-place 14. Kill the Lights [the birthday massacre] He has such intense self-hatred/repression/bitterness and this song represents All That 15. In the End [linkin park] This is literally what happened to 06 and his feelings about it

16. Hurts Like Hell [fleurie, tommee profitt] This song perfectly captures his grief and his way of dealing (lol) with it 17. Neon Ocean [new dialogue] ...his grief/PTSD, continued 18. Sometimes [nick lutsko] 22 and 06 in Latchkey once they're the last ones left 19. Darkside [sam tinnesz] The ghost considering his life/death/etc. 20. Now That We’re Alone [the people’s thieves] 22/the ghost’s mental landscape (y i k e s) 21. Pompeii [bastille] "Oh, where do we begin? The rubble or our sins" i meAN 22. March [jesse abbey] The whole supersoldier thing doesn't really leave you in death, turns out 23. Wolves [selena gomez, marshmello] the ghost's tragic journey to find Foster 24. Man or a Monster [sam tinnesz, zayde wølf] 22′s not great at self-concept and It Shows 25. Centuries [fall out boy] 22's opinions on Latchkey and the director's ghost 26. Stronger [the score] 22 in life at all times/the ghost, upon realizing he's a ghost lmao 27. Be Free [the tech thieves] 22 and 06's yearning for freedom while in Latchkey 28. Echoes [fenris] Everything he was and everything he is, blending together 29. UNHOLY [the faceplants] 22/ghost's bittersweet manifesto lol. I strongly picture this playing over the scene where he snaps at the end of Firebreak and [redacted] everybody on sublevel A 30. Wrecked [imagine dragons] This is the ghost without Foster. 31. Forget [marina] His relationship with memory is Complicated 32. Monster in the Closet [subcon] ….22/ghost's bittersweet manifesto pt. 2. This is like a giant ‘fuck you’ @ the Director/Stellaxis/etc. 

[rodpupo2]

Research: Persona Project 

Ronin by Frank Miller

Ronin was a comic released by DC comics in 1983, and was created by Frank Miller, who besides having worked on the script, also worked on the illustrations.

Ronin is a internal evolution of the author, something that translates into a leap in quality in his work, transforming and aesthetically renewing his work.

It’s like stepping out of his comfort zone to face challenges to innovate.

Frank Miller stood out for his ability to break models, to shape a canon to a new look. And when he got to DC, he had a lot of new ideas involving the past and future, honor, society, discipline, technology, science and ecology. Miller’s mind amalgamated all this essence that culminated in this miniseries, overcoming any obstacles and marking the industry.

Ronin is the story of a past and a future that come together through science. From feudal Japan to the most decadent and technified New York, a samurai without a master, will return to solve the mistakes of the past, and do whatever it takes.

Miller brings with Ronin his interest that he already showed in other comics, which is the Japanese tradition, molding a crucible in which the past and future are mix organically, when technology is the next step in evolution. New York is engulfed by artificial intelligence that replaces the obsolete, the rotten and the dead, with the new and pure.

But for me, the best part of the comic, apart from the script and the whole idea of setting, is certainly the art.

The art of Ronin, maybe not for everyone’s taste, because it looks quite experimental and surrealist.

However, Miller broke new grounds with new page layouts, playing with the text, the thickness of the lines, close ups, cut plans and pictures, violence, death and pain like never before seen and felt in a comic book.

With a super stylized, bold and almost surrealistic streak. This led to a rejection of the miniseries, but it was necessary because Miller opened up, a new path in terms of narrative and composition of art, and invented new graphic tools with which he went in the direction of the unknown.

Josan Gonzalez

Josan is a renowned for exploring themes related to science fiction, dystopia, and above all, cyberpunk. He has already stated in an interview that he is strongly inspired by big names like Moebius, Katsuhiro Otomo - creator of Akira - and Geoff Darrow.

Gonzalez likes to create characters full of personality and compose scenarios rich in details. Josan has a very characteristic artistic artistic style: he uses complex line arts, flat colors and limited color palettes.

Being born in Spain, Josan starts reading comics since he was a teenager and this will influence later in his artistic aesthetic.

Initially he adopted a more painterly style which evolved later in the line work. Despite being always passionate about art he never thought it would make a real career from it. He succeeds in publishing his own books and working for big names such as Dark Horse and Boom Studios.

People is considering Josan’s work as being part of Cyberpunk genre, but the artist doesn’t like to classify them. He enjoy creating illustrations without establishing rules, just giving shapes to a futuristic world. Many of Gonzalez characters are linked by cables, which are a perfect metaphor for linkage human-technology. For a lot of artwork the artist get inspiration from religious imagery. Providing his characters with catholic and Hindu symbols. Mostly this happens, because of his catholic background in Spain. Another aspect, is showing people’s addiction with technology, which keep them repressed. Even if the artist explores different social questions his main goal remains the illustration and making interesting and timeless.

some of his most recent works are, for example, is the cover of the new edition of the science fiction book Neoromancer, and the steelbook art of the game Cyberpunk 2077.

The Story of Miyamoto Musashi

Miyamoto Musashi was Japan’s most famous samurai. He is credited with authoring the most important treatise in Japanese strategy, the “Book of Five Rings”.

Musashi Sensei, as his disciples still call his fighting style, lived from 1584 to 1645.

Musashi dedicated his life to reach perfection through the art of the sword. He fought and won more than 60 life and death duels, and was never defeated. He made contact with other art forms, such as painting, sculpture, calligraphy and poetry, in addition to Zen meditation and Buddhism.

Musashi was born in the province of Harima during one of the most troubled periods in the history of Japan, when the last great battles of the time of the samurai took place.

At the time, it was common in Japan for the same person to change his name at different stages of life. In childhood, Musashi Sensei was called Shinmen Bennosuke. It is believed that he received the first Kenjutsu (famous Japanese martial art) instructions from his father,Shinmen Hirata.

At the age of 13 he won his first duel, and won the second duel when he was 16 years old, as reported in The Book of Five Rings.

In his book Musashi says that his strategy to deconcentrate the opponent and beat him was to arrive late at the place of the duel. On the way, Musashi carved a sword out of a broken paddle and with this sword  he dealt a blow to Kojiro winning the duel,  which, although fast, is one of the most famous in the history of the samurai. The duel was immortalized in a monument on the island of Funajima representing the figure of the two warriors.

The Funajima duel was a turning point in Musashi’s life because from then on he began to reflect on how he had won so many duels and to dedicate himself to the task of leaving a legacy for future generations. It was from there, too, that Musashi began to dedicate himself to other arts such as painting and poetry.

He worked primarily with a style of ink painting, creating minimalist, monochromatic works portraying nature.

The last years of his life, Musashi spent as a guest with his friend, and then isolated himself in the cave of Reigando where he dedicated himself to meditation and practice of his art writing his Book of Five Rings right there.

Ned Bear Mask Artist

Sculptor Edward (Ned) Bear has combined study in Native education with an Honours Diploma from Vancouver college.

He has an extensive knowledge of Native art and culture, Bears has also made contributions to change as a curator, guest speaker and juror.

Bear was born in the town Frederecton, New Brunswick, Canada. When he was young boy he was inspired by a Native elder carver, and later on he received a formal training at New Brunswick College of Craft and Design, where he became the first aboriginal student to graduate. Bear received additional training at a Indian Federated College in Nova Scotia.

Bear created sculpted masks and marble or limestone figure forms. His masks are approximately three feet high and are usually carved from butternut. Each mask is adorned with horse hair ( symbolizing the free spirit), bear fur ( symbolizing healing) and metal ( symbolizing something which is of the earth). Each mask tells a story and offer a modern interpretation of traditional spiritual beliefs.

When creating art, Bear considered himself to be simply a vehicle through which energy flows from the eternal Great Spirit to the medium he is using. He doesn’t create any sketches for the masks, he said that he allows the great spirit to guide him through the process.

Ned Bear made significant contributions as an instructor of Native art and culture, a curator, a guest speaker, and a juror.

The indigenous sculptor died on the Christmas evening of 2019, at the age of 65.  “ We delve into so many past wrongs of our lives that we forget to revel in the present. Learn to capture what you may never have again, now. Do what makes you content for this time, and begin to realize the true purpose of life”, said Bear.

Jim Henson

Jim Henson was an American puppeteer and filmmaker, and most known for creating the Muppets, and directing most of their movies and tv shows.

In the 1960s Henson and his future wife, Jane Nebel, created a puppet show on Washington television station and kept their jobs through the school years, developing the first Muppets (including Kermit) on a one minute television show called Sam and Friends.

The success of Sam and Friends led Henson to create his own company in 1958, initially called Muppets,inc. and many years later, The Jim Henson Company.

Part of the resounding success of Henson’s puppets was due to their innovative view that puppet controllers did not need to be hidden by physical objects while controlling them.

By instructing the camera controllers to focus on the puppets and keep the controllers out of sight, he allowed the puppets to dominate the TV screen and acquire more lively and similar behaviors to real people.

From the productions of Sam and Friends, many characters emerged who became famous over the years and who would become part of the famous cast of the Muppets, including their most famous member, Kermit the Frog.

The Muppet Show, which premiered in 1976 and was produced in England, gained an international audience ( it was shown in about 100 countries) and was soon followed by the film The Muppet Movie (1979).

Henson was able to create an interesting set of characters by developing innovative ideas with a sense of rhythm and humor that won an audience for both children and adults. His works are remembered in part for promoting positive values in childhood such as friendship, magic or love, themes that appeared in most of his works.

Research: Persona Brazilian Folklore research- Lobisomem 

The legend of the werewolf is known practically all over the world. It defines him as being, part man, part wolf, who was cursed with lycanthropy ( the act of becoming a wolf).

The one who is cursed, becomes the werewolf on the nights of the full moon. Some variations of the legend say that lycanthropy was the result of the pact of one man with the devil.

Once transformed into a werewolf, the person frantically sets out in search of victims to kill them. Modern popular culture has spread the idea that the werewolf is vulnerable only to silver bullets or sharp objects made of silver.

Naturally, the legend of the werewolf arrived in Brazil through Portuguese, during the period when they colonized Brazil, in our country, the legend arrived and took on different characteristics in each region.

Some studies have concluded that there is no such legend among indigenous people. The closest to that were legends who believed that men or women could become some animals of the forest.

This legend in Brazilian folklore ended up acquiring elements present in its Portuguese version. Thus, it was common to believe that the werewolf was the man born after the mother had seven daughters, although versions of the legend say that if seven sons were born, the eight son would also be a werewolf.

In the north, of Brazil, the werewolf was the man who was in poor health, and the one who was anemic would eventually would become him. Once transformed, it feeds on the blood of other humans to make up for the poor diet as one of them. The transformation took place from Thursdays to Friday nights.

In the south, in turn, the fact that turned the man into a werewolf was incest. In Brazil, there was no record in the folklore of the belief in transformation of women into werewolves. In the folklore, only men becomes werewolves.

In the interior of São Paulo, it was believed that this being tried to invade the houses to eat children. Many believed that the werewolf went after, especially, unbaptized children.

One of the ways in which the person turned into a werewolf, was if he seriously injured with certain objects. One of these objects was a bullet bathed in candle wax from an altar.

[shamandrummer]

Milford Graves, Visionary Drummer, Dead At 79

Drummer, scientist, educator and improviser Milford Graves died in his Queens, N.Y. home around 3 p.m. on Fri., Feb. 12. He was 79. Lois, his wife of sixty-one years, confirmed that the cause was congestive heart failure. Mr. Graves was surrounded by Lois, his five children (four daughters and a son), his beloved granddaughter, Tatiana, and a cross-section of students across generations who had bestowed him with the honorific "Professor," a nod to his guidance in music, botany, martial arts and metaphysics.

Milford Graves was Professor Emeritus of Music at Bennington College in Vermont, where he taught the power and aesthetic of Black Music as a faculty member from 1973-2012. He used his platform there to express his many ideas, most well beyond the confines of the performance stage, operating instead as a kind of shamanic artist and teacher, whose emotional and intellectual connection to traditional music he fused with scientific inquiry and study.

Graves graduated from the Eastern School for Physicians' Aids in the 1960s, and worked in a diagnostic veterinary lab for two years. He purchased an album of stethoscopic heart recordings during a lunch break in 1973, and its content led him to pursue the path of his life's work: He began to record heartbeats and transcribe them into music notation. What started as a rudimentary documentation on reel-to-reel tape increased in sophistication with the adoption of advanced computing technology, culminating in Mr. Graves's use of algorithms to create visualizations and sound data that plotted the human heartbeat and its varied electrical states for the purpose of healing. His discoveries led to a patent for preparing non-embryonic stem cells from a tissue derivative, subjecting those cells to vibrations from a heart sound to control the degree of differentiation into several other types of cells. He once said, "Drumming should be taught in medical school. Know your beats. There are subtleties in the heartbeat that cannot be picked up through electronic imaging," and his scientific rigor on heart rates informed a non-linear approach to playing rhythm.

Graves was a prominent jazz drummer and percussionist from the 1960s New York avant-garde and free-jazz movements. New York City in the 1960s was an artistic cauldron, and the ideas of freedom and struggle coursing through the Civil Rights and Black Power Movements began to manifest in an expansive view of improvisation and music-making. The avant-garde, or New Thing, loosened certain strictures and gave improvisers like Graves an opportunity for wide-open self expression, and even established artists like Coltrane seemed to be drawing from the same creative well. "Milford played how he felt music should sound related to what was around him," says longtime friend and collaborator, drummer and composer Andrew Cyrille. The music felt like a departure from tradition, and some writers derided the striking new music with withering criticism. Meanwhile, Graves was transforming the role of the drums. He viewed his holistic approach to drums as an extension of how he lived with "outside forces having less control of you, allowing you to have more flexibility, more freedom and listening to the vibrations of the earth, that nature gave you."

Graves also began exploring martial arts in the late 1960s. He created a new form called Yara, from the Yoruban word meaning "nimble." He followed a teacher's interest in the praying mantis as a model. He subsequently bought and released these insects into his own garden, followed their movements and developed his own martial arts study based on their natural behavior. This inspired the title of a 2018 documentary on Graves, Full Mantis.

When his grandmother died, in 1970, Graves moved into her modest 20th-century home at the corner of Brinkerhoff  Avenue and 156th Street in Queens, just blocks from the South Jamaica Houses he once called home. He personalized the lot and dwelling with a distinctive flair, adding stone and ceramic architectural elements to the exterior structure in a playful style akin to Antonio Gaudi. He created an organic garden to promote healing arts and added a dojo to teach Yara. Inside there's murals, sculptures and drums from around the world; a downstairs laboratory includes dried herbs and botany research, elixirs, Eastern medicine texts and acupuncture practice juxtaposed with electrocardiogram machines and computer monitors. And books. Lots of books. Graves was a generous polymath who openly shared his knowledge.

Mark Christman, artistic director of Ars Nova Workshop, has been measuring and curating aspects of Graves' immense contribution to music, science, botany and martial arts over the last several years. The collection spent four months at Philadelphia's Institute for Contemporary Art, with a five-week pause due to pandemic restrictions. The exhibit, A Mind-Body Deal, drew more than 2,000 attendees and over 5,000 participants to its many virtual events, including a solo performance from Moran. "Milford Graves offers a perspective that isn't limited by the way we've been forced to learn," says Christman. "That linear way of study doesn't allow a mixture or mash-up of thoughts and decision-making. That's why he's adored, and people looked to him for answers."

To learn more about Milford Graves, read “Taking Rhythm to Heart.”

[dukedrakes]

Thank You

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Lily)

Rating: PG-13, implied n*fw but nothing is explicitly said.

Words: 2.4K

Summary: Lily says thank you to Ethan.

It kinda bothered me that MC never thanked Ethan for bringing Mrs Martinez’s son to the hearing and ultimately contributed to having her reinstated at Edenbrook, so I decided to fix that.

Don’t forget to tell me what you think, Reblog and Like! Enjoy!

Find my other work here.

This work contains dialogue written by Pixelberry. I do not own that dialogue. All of it belongs to Pixelberry.

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Dr. Lily Murphy froze with her mouth agape as she turned to look behind her. After having witnesses attest to her character and skill as a doctor as well as other senior physicians, Lily didn’t know if she could handle anymore. The man was short, middle-aged and seems to have a permanent expression of anguish on his face as he made his way down the stairs to the front of the auditorium.

“That’s Luis Martinez. The son of the woman you got killed. The one suing the hospital. You’re so toast it’s making me crave breakfast.” Declan Nash whispered over to her. Lily shrunk in her seat; she has a feeling this wouldn’t be good.

Lily barely registers as Luis asks if she’s the one who “did it”, referring to the action of administrating stolen medication that wasn’t guaranteed to work to his mother without approval.

“I am.” Lily said, trying her best not to make her voice waver.

She didn’t know what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t an embrace from the person who was may be the cause of her loss in career. She tensed before she awkwardly hugged back, patting him on the back as he clutched her. He thanks her, which surprises her more.

“Mr. Martinez! This doctor is the reason your mother is dead!”

Luis pulls away as he answers, looking Lily dead in the eye. “And she’s the reason why my mother lived.”

Lily can hardly believe it as she listened to Luis’ explanation of his change of heart. Of his understanding of why she did what she did. That it granted his mother a kind of happiness she hasn’t experienced in decades. That’s all Lily was trying to do. Grant her happiness and a chance to experience life away from the sterile walls she’d been trapped in for years. Lily knew, despite her own anxieties about her own fate, that she had down the right thing. She had given someone the chance to live – even if it wasn’t for very long. To fulfil their final wishes. And she was so glad that her son understood too.

“That’s why I’m dropping my lawsuit.”

The words rang in Lily’s head as she registered the words. He was dropping the lawsuit. Her head followed him with disbelief written all over her face. She watched him climb the stairs slowly, reaching the back of the room before he slid into the seat next to the man who’s smile gave her butterflies.

Ethan.

Of course, it was Ethan. Only he could have convinced Mrs. Martinez’s son to come to her hearing. Her heart swelled at the fact that he did this for her. When she asked Ethan to come to the hearing, he hadn’t hesitated. But with everything going on with Naveen and their rendezvous two days ago, she wondered when he had reached out to Luis and organised this. Was it before? She hadn’t even heard from him, yet he had eluded that he’d been trying to help her. But he seemed so hopeless when she’d come to him the day before yesterday. Before they had finally given into themselves. She couldn’t work it out. But whenever it was. She was incredibly grateful and amazed this man, who had been so tough and unforgiving with her, would do this.

The smile she returned was not only one of gratitude, but one that she hoped conveyed how much she cared for him. Lily looked at him for a little longer, forgetting what was going on around her before reluctantly turning away from him and back to the Hearing, waiting for her fate.

Lily lay, curled up to Ethan’s side. One arm resting against him, her fingers trailing the groves of his abdominal muscles. Ethan had one of his arms under his head and the other around her waist, his thumb absently stroking the soft skin there, skin that only moments ago he had held tightly as they saw stars together. They were both naked in her bed after one of the best nights of her life. She didn’t think it could get any better than the first time, but she was wrong. Terribly wrong.

After the hearing where she was finally reinstated at Edenbrook, she’d gone to the bar with her colleagues and friends to celebrate. And she did for a while, sipping drinks and laughing, hugging and accepting congratulations. But even so, there was only one person who wasn’t there, someone who she looked up to and adored, someone who has changed her life and ultimately her career. The only person she truly wanted to celebrate with.

Ethan had arrived late, having been caught up at the hospital, but Lily caught him before he could even step inside the bar. After learning he would return to his old position, she knew that all they had was tonight. Because tomorrow, everything would change. Everything would be back to before. It didn’t take much convincing, because Ethan knew too. And he wanted this as much as she did.

The bar seemed like so long ago now, so distant in their reality as Lily lay there in the room illuminated only by moonlight with Ethan. She sighed audibly as she felt Ethan’s arm around her tighten. She looked up at him to see Ethan gazing at her with hooded lids.

“Hey.” She whispered, smiling at him.

“Hey.” He replied, returning it.

She didn’t want to ruin this perfect moment by remembering that this was the last time she would ever be in his arms. That it was the last time she’d feel his touch, his kiss. She tried to block out those thoughts and just relish in his warmth. She buried her head in his side and pressed a kiss to his torso. Ethan hummed in content as he pulled her on top of him. Lily placed her legs either side of him as she lay her bare chest on his bare chest. Their bodies parallel, Ethan loved the feeling of her skin on his.

Lily rested her chin on her hands that lay over his pectorals. They looked at each other, memorising every curve of each other’s faces. She would miss this. She would miss him. There is no way Ethan would ever pursue a relationship with her now. As much as she wanted it, she knew deep down it was probably for the best. But she would still crave him. It would be hard, having to stand next to him, his hand so close yet she couldn’t hold. To watch him get frustrated over a case and not be able to kiss away the furrow in his brow. It would be hard. But it was a reality that she would have to face. Lily wondered if it would be as hard for him as it would be for her. She wasn’t sure.

“What are you thinking about?” Ethan asked, bringing her out of her subconscious. He gently put some of Lily’s hair behind her ear.

Lily shook her head. “If I told you it would ruin this.”

Ethan smiled sadly, knowing exactly what she was talking about. He tightened his arms around her. “I don’t know how I’m going to let you go.”

Lily shook her head again and kissed his chest. “Don’t. Let’s not think about it. Let’s just think about now. And how perfect this is. Nothing exists beyond this moment. Tomorrow doesn’t matter. It’s just now”

Ethan didn’t reply. He just stroked her hair, taking a deep breath, the smell of her cocoa butter shampoo was intoxicating. God, he’d miss this.

They stayed like that for a while. Silent. Lily wasn’t sure how long they’d been like this for, but it was surely past 1am. Lily looked up at Ethan to see his eyes had closed, his breathing deep and even. She shifted off him gently, trying not to stir him. She covered them in blankets as she moved to lay beside him, on her side so she could look at him. Lily’s eyes traced the curve of his jaw, the slope of his nose and his lips. She smiled. How could she be this lucky? She carefully traced his jawline with her index finger, up and down before running the back of her finger over his stubble. It wasn’t long before Ethan smiled and turned his head towards her.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Lily asked.

“I was just resting my eyes.” Ethan replied, shifting so he was on his side, facing her.

They were so close, if either of them moved forward their lips would meet. Lily lost herself in his blue eyes, which were dark in the low lighting of her room. This…thing…between them was so raw and full of emotion. She’d never felt anything like this with anyone before. She was scared about how much Ethan meant to her. He was slowly consuming every part of her and yet, she didn’t want it to stop. Ethan was so hard to read sometimes, but in this moment, in the way he looked at her, there was something there that showed that maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the same way she was.

“I never said thank you.” Lily said, her eyes still on his.

Ethan frowned. “For what?”

“For bringing Mr. Martinez to the hearing. If it wasn’t for you, I would probably be unemployed right now.” Lily said as she reached to hold Ethan’s hand in hers. Desperate to touch him.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“But you did.” Lily insisted. “It’s because of you that he dropped the lawsuit. And it’s because of you that he was able to understand why I did what I did. His reaction probably helped sway some of the panellists.”

Ethan shook his head. “That was all you.”

Lily cocked her head. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” Ethan rolled his eyes playfully. “You’re a good doctor, Lily. Luis changed his mind because he heard how good you are not only as a doctor but as a person. Hearing those witnesses and how you helped them, he could see that what you did for Mrs. Martinez was to make her happy and her give her the chance to live her life on her terms. None of that is because of me.”

Lily couldn’t help but smile at his words. “You still convinced him to come. He couldn’t have been jumping for joy at the chance to attend my hearing.”

Ethan smiled. “He most certainly was not.”

“How did you do it?” Lily asked.

Ethan shrugged. “I told him he needed to understand the weight of what he was doing. He was doing what he thought was right. But he needed to see the people he was affecting. And how they were the same people that looked after his mother for 10 years whilst he barely visited. The nerve of him to sue the hospital and potentially ruin your career when he didn’t even understand his mother or know what she wanted.”

Lily chuckled. “You’re too harsh.”

“It’s the truth.” Ethan defended, frowning playfully.

Lily shook her head and brought his hand to her lips. “When did you do all this anyway? The other day when we…you said you had been doing things to try and help me, but you never said anything to me.” Lily said as she rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand before meeting his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me what was going on and what you were planning?”

Ethan sighed. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up. After Dr. Emery wouldn’t let me testify, I had to think of something else. It took me a few days to get in touch with Luis, it wasn’t until the morning of the hearing that I finally spoke to him and pretty much threatened him to show up.”

“You didn’t.” Lily widened her eyes.

“I didn’t actually threaten him. But I wasn’t very nice, I assure you.” Ethan grinned.

Lily laughed and rolled her eyes. Her face softened as she looked at him. “Still. Thank you. For doing that and for being there today. Having you there, I really appreciated it. I don’t know if I could’ve faced it without knowing you were there at the back, having my back.”

“You could’ve done it, Lily. You’ve never really needed me. But I’m glad I was able to be that for you.” Ethan smiled softly at her, placing a hand on her cheek, his thumb stroking her cheekbone.

Lily smiled. “See, you can save the people you care about after all.”

Ethan shook his head and whispered so quietly that Lily could barely hear him, “I care about you more than you could ever know.”

“I care about you too.” Lily whispered back.

Ethan closed the small distance between them and pressed the softest of kisses to Lily’s lips. She returned the kiss, deepening it gently as she cupped his cheek with her hand. Ethan moved his hand down to her waist and pulled her flush against him. Lily hooked a leg around his thigh and they both proceeded to tangle their legs together. They couldn’t get enough of each other. It wouldn’t ever be enough.

Ethan pulled away for a moment to say: “I can’t stay the night, Lily.” Ethan searched her eyes with a look of anguish on his face. He hated knowing that he would have to leave her.

Lily couldn’t stop the ache in her chest. It was starting. “I…I understand, Ethan.” She smiled sadly. “But, can you wait until I fall asleep? Please?”

“Of course, my darling.” Ethan replied as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Lily smiled. “Thank you.”

They shifted so Lily’s back pressed into Ethan’s chest and he was spooning her, his arms around her. Lily held his arms and pressed further back into him, Ethan’s grip on her tightening. She tried to memorise this feeling of his arms around her. The feel on his breath on her neck and his skin on hers. God, she’d miss this. So damn much.

But she was grateful. Grateful to have had this at least. And knowing that even though they wouldn’t go beyond tonight, she knew that he would always be there when she needed him. And she would be there when he needed her.

Always.

I hope you all enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought!

If you have any requests, please send them in! It might take me time to get to but I would love to write more!

Remember to Reblog and Like!

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 5, Number 13

Junius Paul

It’s our last Dust of the year, written in an odd holding period between the flood of fall releases and the first few indicators that 2020 will, indeed, have music. We’ll be revisiting our favorite records one more time in writers’ year-end essays and hitting a few more obscurities in an upcoming, clear-the-decks January Dust. Then it’s time to say goodbye to a year that sucked on so many levels, but not in the music.  This time, contributors included Justin Cober-Lake, Bill Meyer, Jennifer Kelly, Andrew Forell, Jonathan Shaw, Ian Mathers, Ray Garraty and Tim Clarke.  

Brian Shankar Adler — Fourth Dimension (Chant)

Percussionist Brian Shankar Adler has a funny way of looking at the world. Or, rather, he has a funny way of looking through it. His Fourth Dimension seeks a new perspective, a new way to ask questions. Instead of trying to find new ground through abstract experimentation, he works his way into patterns and shapes that build on each other. The album opens with “Introduction Drone,” but that sort of minimalist composition provides only one small element of Adler's larger idea. He and his group glide between silent or repetitive space and more melodic, energetic bursts. The whole album, then, takes on an irregular but not erratic pulse. Vibraphonist Matt Moran provides an essential element of the disc's feel. Each artist in the quintet contributes — guitarist Joanthan Goldberger shapes particular moods, for example — but it's Moran's vibes that dictate how far the record pushes into new space. He sometimes disappears and sometimes flourishes. These movements, as much as even Adler's drumming, give the disc its musical arc and particular spot, whatever dimension you may find it in.

Justin Cober-Lake

 Angles 9 — Beyond Us (Clean Feed)

When a musician is as prolific and diverse in approach as Martin Küchen, it’s tempting to consider how each new recording fits into or extends his existing body of work. But Beyond Us often directs the listener’s attention away from Küchen and towards the skills of the eight musicians accompanying him. This is probably by design, since when you have such great players, you might as well give them chances to shine. Their collective associations extend beyond this band, which has managed to defy the prevailing economic tides in order to tour and record repeatedly over the past decade; you can also hear some of them in Paal Nilssen-Love’s Extra Large Unit and the Fire! Orchestra. Whether they’re enriching his arrangements with nuanced and energetic playing, or swinging and exulting during solos and duo exchanges, the rest of Angles 9 sound simply marvelous. In particular, trombonist Mats Älekint, cornetist Goran Kajfeš and pianist Alexander Zethson draw out the robust bluesiness of “U(n)happiez Marriages,” and baritone saxophonist proposes a Moorish counterpoint to the John Barry-ish theme of “Against the Permanent Revolution.” But everyone punches above their weight, making this a deeply satisfying addition to their collective catalogues.

Bill Meyer

 Bach Tang — Born Too Alive (Dove Cove)

Bach Tang - Born Too Alive by Bach Tang

LA-based trio Bach Tang — that’s Oakley Tapola on voice and guitar, Dan Ryan on bass and vocals, Rebecca Spangenthaler on drums — channel the chaotic energy of Swell Maps, The Raincoats and Essential Logic on their EP Born Too Alive.  This ten-minute, six-song collection combines mutant Beefheartian boogie, defiant DIY post-punk clatter, deliberately distorted vocals and gleefully amateurish noise into a willful concoction that dares you to turn it down whilst forcing you to turn it up.  Opening track “Litter Licker” is a perfect 59 seconds of racing down a hill — tumbling drums, tripping bass, guitar slashes, what sounds at first like classic fucked up sax skronking revealing itself to be the exhalations of an exhausted runner. “Dragon’s Blood!” is most straight ahead song here with a recognizable riff and even some harmonizing before it briefly collapses in on itself before a final burst to a groaning end. Bach Tang understand that brevity is the soul of wit and if the vocals can be grating, the songs flash by with enough invention to encourage repeat listens. Fans of the aforementioned bands and their ilk will find much to be intrigued by on Born Too Alive.

Andrew Forell  

 The Catenary Wires — Til the Morning (Tapete)

Til The Morning by The Catenary Wires

The Catenary Wires — that’s Amelia Fletcher and Rob Pursey — make a lovely, wistful sort of indie pop that is perfectly in line with what you’d expect from people who were in Talulah Gosh, Heavenly, Marine Research and Tender Trap. This is their second album as Catenary Wires, but they’ve been at this sunshine-through-raindrops thing for a while, and the result is not exactly polish but casual grace. They seem to land exactly where they need to, every time, without much premeditation. “Dream Town,” the opener, brushes by with a reticent sureness, Fletcher’s airy soprano harmonizing with Pursey’s hollow, post-punk resonances, the whole thing stirred to gentle life with finger snaps and lilting, wafting background vocals. “Half-Written” (Fletcher leading) is nakedly spare in the verse, but blows into waltz-timed, multi-voiced crescendo in the chorus. Neither voice is perfectly tuned, but they join somehow in worn-in, comfortable harmonies like they’ve been doing it forever, and they have.

Jennifer Kelly

 Drekka — Beings of ImberIndus (Somnimage)  

Beings of ImberIndus by Drekka

Mkl Anderson (pronounced Michael) has been hanging onto the edge of outbound sound since the mid-1990s. During that time, he’s run the Bluesanct label, played in Jessica Bailiff’s band, and played both solo and collaboratively under the name Drekka. While he often releases music digitally, his production means are primarily analog. Anderson made this 70-minute expanse of non-electronic drone with Icelandic musician þórir Georg, and while between then they play pitch pipe, voice, metal, and bass guitar, what comes out of the speakers sounds long, dark, and entirely non-instrumental. This CD burrows deep into the heart of a sonic black sun, and if you thrive on not seeing the horizon, it could be your next auditory weighted blanket.

Bill Meyer

 Lucas Gillan’s Many Blessings — Chit-Chatting With Herbie (Jerujazz Records)

Chit-Chatting With Herbie by Lucas Gillan's Many Blessings

The Jazz Record Art Collective is a concert series that recruits Chicagoan jazz musicians to perform a classic jazz album their way. Chit-Chatting With Herbie originated when series curator Chris Anderson commissioned drummer Lucas Gillan to participate. Gillan decided to use his band Many Blessings to provide a personal angle on Herbie Nichols Trio (Blue Note, 1956). Since Many Blessings is a piano-less quartet (with Quentin Coaxum, trumpet; Jim Schram, tenor saxophone; Daniel Thatcher, bass) and Nichols was a pianist who never recorded with horns, there’s room for interpretation. Since both horn players are pretty fluent, you never miss the chordal instrument. And since Gillan values Nichols’ delightful melodies, which shine with good humor, spirit and form transcend instrumentation. But be careful playing this record, because it’s bound to make you smile a lot. And like mom said, your face might get stuck that way.

Bill Meyer

 Frode Haltli — Border Woods (Hubro)

Border Woods by Frode Haltli

In the woods, it’s not always easy to see where the borders lie. That zone of uncertainty is exactly where Norwegian accordionist situates this project. Not only does he include a Swede, nyckelharpa (a Swedish keyed fiddle) player Emilia Amper, to join his otherwise Norwegian ensemble. The music itself occupies a shadowy terrain in which classical composition from different centuries mixes with Norwegian folk themes and the squeezebox-rich atmosphere of pre-rock continental café music. Percussionists Håken Stene and Eirik Raude are equally adept at Steve Reich-like mallet patterns and bowed metal atmospherics, which operate as a backdrop for Amper and Haltli’s stark and moody melodies.

Bill Meyer

 Matt Jencik — Dream Character (Hands in the Dark)

Dream Character by Matt Jencik

Implodes’ guitarist Matt Jencik applied thickly fuzzed-out and massively reverbed guitarscapes to Black Earth and Recurring Dream, the band’s two excellent albums for Kranky. On Jencik’s 2017 solo debut, Weird Times, stripping away Implodes’ vocals and post-punk-leaning rhythm section left his guitar to roam like a wraith, swathed in static, tracing simple yet affecting arcs against a turbulent backdrop of noisy guitar loops. Ambient rock, if you will. On his new album, Dream Character, his instrumental palette has expanded to include bass and keys (not that the sound sources are especially easy to discern), but his aesthetic focus remains as tight as ever. The result is hypnotic, offering a satisfyingly rich blend of tones with just enough movement to keep the listener entranced. While Jencik is clearly venturing into shadowy realms — signposted by song titles such as “Dead Comet Return,” “Night Gallery Pause” and “Lifeless Body Train Ride” — there’s often a shaft of light cast into the gloom, whether via brighter tones or intervals. The final track asks “R U OK” — like most music of this kind, it offers a reassuringly melancholy blanket of sound within which to take refuge.

Tim Clarke

 Pedro Kastelijns — Som das Luzis (OAR!)

Som das Luzis by Pedro Kastelijns

Pedro Kastelijns hails from the same trippy Brazilian scene as Boogarins, and likewise, favors a brightly colored, soft-focus form of psychedelia that evokes Love, Os Mutantes and early aughts Animal Collective. A few cuts — “Olhos da Raposa,” for instance — tap into a beachy bossa nova vibe in the languid guitars and junk yard percussion. Others feel less rooted in place, and touched by an arch, fog-fuzzed indie rock exuberance (“Som das Luzis,” “Flux Estelar”) that brings to mind Ariel Pink. Kastelijns sings in a wobbly falsetto much of the time, and accompanies himself on very DIY sounding drums, guitars and keyboards, and there isn’t an indelible hook on the disc, despite the aspirational “Pop Gem” titles of two of the cuts. Listening is a little like being stoned—that is, pleasant, mildly disorienting and hard to remember afterwards.

Jennifer Kelly

 Julian Loida — Wallflower (Julian Loida)

Wallflower by Julian Loida

Gateway experiences are often remembered with mild embarrassment; just because something pointed you in a particular direction doesn’t mean it’s the best example you’re ever going to hear. Julian Loida’s Wallflower might serve as a gateway to minimalism and contemporary composed percussion. Its ten pieces, which are mostly constructed around repetitive vibraphone and piano figure, are unfailingly melodic. The compositions are succinct and unmarred with sudden changes, ensuring that listeners will not be taxed or distracted over each one’s course. Nor is he going to throw you off with extended techniques; he’s quite comfortable working with the vibraphone’s familiar, dreamy zone. But while he’s not going to wear anyone out, he doesn’t talk down to anyone, either. This music communicates directly, and it feels sincere in its simplicity. Gift it to the teenaged symphonic percussionist or budding ambient listener in your life.

Bill Meyer  

 Aurora Nealand / Steve Marquette / Anton Hatwich / Paul Thibodeaux — Kobra Quartet (Astral Spirits)

Kobra Quartet by Aurora Nealand / Steve Marquette / Anton Hatwich / Paul Thibodeaux

Around a century back, jazz progenitors King Oliver and Louis Armstrong travelled between New Orleans and Chicago, playing in both cities. While the two towns have gone on to develop jazz heritages with very different characters, a cadre of musicians has been cutting edge players from each back together in recent years. In a way, this isn’t new; the late Fred Anderson and Kidd Jordan enacted annual summits on the Velvet Lounge for years, and Jeb Bishop and Jeff Albert made the lemons of Hurricane Katrina into a sweet-sounding brew called the Lucky 7s. But guitarist Steve Marquette’s Instigation Festivals, which have taken place in both cities, have fostered a more complex combination of talents involving both cities’ avant-gardes. This quartet began as a free improv encounter involving two musicians from each city, but it turned out so well that the name of this tape became the name of a new band. Their music may build on past examples, but it’s definitely of its moment. Marquette’s resonant feedback and Anton Hatwich’s droning double bass bridge the electro-acoustic divide, and Paul Thibodeaux’s elastic beats suggest internal reverie more than second-line grooves. But it’s Aurora Nealand’s electronically processed singing and glassy tendrils of accordion that center this music within an otherworldly zone, albeit one where it’s still possible to stumble out of a late-night party in a black hole and find yourself blinking in the middle of a street party.

Bill Meyer  

 Junius Paul — Ism (International Anthem)

Ism by Junius Paul

Junius Paul is a shit-hot Chicago jazz bassist, a frequent collaborator with Makaya McCraven, one of the younger members of the Art Ensemble of Chicago and a long-time habitué of the Velvet Lounge on the South Side. On this, his first album as bandleader, he exhibits a startling versatility, switching from acoustic to electric and back, spinning into heady frenzies (“You Are Free to Choose”) and pulling back into monastic discipline in minimalist tone poems (“Bowl Hit”). Paul is not above hitting a life-affirming groove, a la the laid back skronky swagger of “Baker’s Dozen,” but he’s also not married to it, witness the smouldery bowed abstractions of “Ma and Dad.” “Spockey Chainsey Has Re-Emerged” takes up a smoking quarter of the album’s duration, Paul’s restless bass pulsing under a fever dream of wild squalls of trumpet, luminous electric keyboards and a surge and roll of drumming. There’s plenty of great bass here, for fans of that sound, but Paul’s real strength is as a band leader and composer, leading a daring group of fellow travelers — Isaiah Spencer, Justin Dillard, Rajiv Halim, and Jim Baker — towards parts unknown.

Jennifer Kelly

 Ploughshare — Tellurian Insurgency (I, Voidhanger)

Tellurian Insurgency by PLOUGHSHARE

This new EP from Ploughshare curdles and oozes with ugly blackened death metal — or perhaps in this case, it’s deathy black metal? As metal subgenres and sub-subgenres (really, it’s getting Melvillean at this point…) hybridize and mutate, the community of engaged listeners and creators sometimes gets overly invested in categorization and species identification. And there’s so much to observe, out in the wild spaces of culture. To wit: For three years now, this bunch of weirdos from Canberra has been churning out songs with unpleasant titles like “The Urinary Chalice Held Aloft” and “In Offal, Salvation.” But if you can groove with the scatological wordplay, the riffs are pretty good. The record’s A-side, which includes “Abreactive Trance,” suggests that these guys (guys? no names are available) have spent some serious time listening to Deathspell Omega’s Paracletus. Let’s hope Ploughshare doesn’t share that other band’s irredeemable politics. Just what is a “Tellurian” insurgency? A fantasy of the Earthball’s primitive lifeforce striking back? More facile chest-beating about “anti-human” noise? And just how serious or cynical is the band’s appropriation of that famous image from the Book of Isaiah? Hard to say. But the guitar tone cuts more like a sword.

Jonathan Shaw

  Omar Souleyman—Schlon (Mad Decent)

Omar Souleyman, Syria’s best known wedding singer turned global recording phenomenon (he’s made over 500 records), brings joy in a world of trouble. Souleyman hails from Ras al-Ayn in northeastern Syria, an area that has, over the last several years, been fought over by Syria, the Kurds, Isis and the Turkish Army. He’s been living in Turkey since 2011, but things are not so great there either. So, it is remarkable, in its way, that Souleyman’s latest album, a mash-up of traditional dabke, disco and techno, is so very celebratory. Rave meets traditional wedding dance in the synth-y, string-slashing “Abou Zilif,” a cut that situates a stirring, primal male-sung chorus amid a Levantine-flavored disco. “Layle” likewise moves fast and relentlessly, bursts of saz (Azad Salih) winding through thickets of multi-toned drums. It hits hard and repeatedly, and if this is what people dance to at weddings in rural Syria, hats off. I’m exhausted just sitting on the couch.

Jennifer Kelly

  SunnO))) —  Pyroclasts (Southern Lord)

Pyroclasts is one of those releases that, viewed from one angle, seems to be at best inessential. Drone metal titans SunnO))) have already given 2019, in the form of Life Metal (which, as Dusted’s Jonathan Shaw puts it, is “a record that seeks the sublime”), an extremely essential record. If you were only going to listen to one album from them this year, that one is the one to start with. This one, by contrast, is literally a collection of some of the drones that Stephen O’Malley, Greg Anderson and their various guests and compatriots would start each day in the studio with when recording Life Metal. And yet, if you take a slightly different angle on it, Pyroclasts (named for the aftereffects of volcanic eruption) starts feeling more than anything else like a product of generosity. These were literally the exercises/rituals they began each working day with to get in the right frame of mind to make Life Metal; it would be entirely understandable if they didn’t want to share them with the world. The result both suffers and benefits from the much narrowed focus compared to their big brother; it doesn’t do everything Life Metal does, but if all you want is just under 44 minutes of straightforwardly brain-frying drone, Pyroclasts is here for you.  

Ian Mathers

 Horace Tapscott with the Pan Afrikan Peoples Arkestra and the Great Voice of UGMAA — Why Don’t You Listen? (Dark Tree)

Why Don't You Listen? - Live at LACMA, 1998 by Horace Tapscott with the Pan Afrikan Peoples Arkestra and the Great Voice of UGMAA

Recent lauded efforts by Angel Bat Dawid and Damon Locks suggest that socially conscious spiritual jazz is sending a message that makes a lot of sense in 2019. If such music speaks to you, consider checking out the work of Horace Tapscott, and particularly this welcome archival find. He was a composer, bandleader and pianist based in Los Angeles who led the Pan Afrikan Peoples Arkestra from the 1960s until his death in 1999. Inspired by big bands lead by Duke Ellington and Sun Ra but concerned with celebrating and uniting the community where he lived, he fashioned music that into an exposition and affirmation of pride in pan-African and African-American ways and culture. This live recording of his ten-piece band in performance with a similarly-sized choir named the Union of God Musicians and Artists Ascension puts a hard stop on his timeline; it was the last time he played piano in public, since the aggressive cancer that ultimately killed him would first limit him to conducting in last appearances. There’s nothing wrong with playing here; he, saxophonist Michael Session, and trombonist Phil Ranelin all essay impassioned solos over the Arkestra’s massed percussion. But it’s the voices, led by singer Dwight Tribble, that embody Tapscott’s communal commitment and articulate his cultural concerns.

Bill Meyer

 TENGGER — Spiritual 2 (Beyond Beyond is Beyond)

It’s hard to create the kind of New Age-y post-kosmische psych drone that TENGGER does without having some kind of mystical angle, but the travelling musical family known as TENGGER leans into that harder than some. The mantra to focus on for this fine follow up to 2017’s recently reissued collection of harmonium, voice and synth-jams Spiritual is “if you’re looking at something, you should recognize that there is something invisible behind it”. Like most similar insights, let alone ones meant to be applied to a work of art, you’re probably going to get what you put into that one out of it, which means if you’re on TENGGER’s wavelength you probably already feel what they’re going for. Much of Spiritual 2 is fully up to the standard of its predecessor (the gently fried “See”, the suspended vocals of “Kyrie”, the softly pulsing extended length of “Wasserwellen”), but they show the most promising signs of growth when they adopt a bit of formal rigour. On the three-part dilatory experiment of “High,” “Middle” and “Low,” just subjecting the same melody to different speeds brings out something clarifying about the whole sound. You can really start to glimpse whatever invisible is behind it.  

Ian Mathers  

 Various Artists — Pop Ambient 2020 (Kompakt)

Pop Ambient 2020 by Various Artists

 Kompakt celebrates twenty years of the Pop Ambient series with a new collection of beatless luminance featuring stalwarts Joachim Spieth, Thomas Fehlman and Markus Guentner as well as some of the lesser-known names on the label’s roster.   

Thore Pfeiffer’s “Urquell” — an acoustic guitar over an unobtrusive bed of synths and scratchy strings — sets the mood for the subsequent 85 minutes. Tracks float by lulling the listener into a state between dreams and catatonia. Good then that Maria Estrella reminds us to breathe on Morgan Wurde’s “Laesst Los,” a quite lovely track built on string beds, treated whispers and Estrella’s gentle instructions.  The only vaguely unsettling moments come during Fehlman’s “Liebesperlen” with its lysergic take on deep house. NZ based composer Andrew Thomas rounds off the collection with two short pieces of atmospheric piano based contemporary minimalism that veer into Max Richter territory and are all the better for it. Pop Ambient 2020 is a warm bath; comfortable and enveloping without the depths to threaten, it passes by with few demands, diffident to the point of vanishing. Perfect for the next session in a hyperbaric chamber or MRI where at least there are whirrs and clicks to keep you alert.  

Andrew Forell 

 Winds of Egotism — Winds of Egotism (Death’s Radiance)

When Plato wrote his cave allegory, he couldn’t have Winds of Egotism in mind, yet his allegory became a reality with the band’s self-titled album. The band members haven’t left the cave and instead smuggled the gear in (even the country of origin is undisclosed). The resulting music raw, monotonic and unpretentious enough to be mistaken for drone.  The guitar excavates sounds so primitive that it sounds more like an echo from the cave walls than a guitar. Couldn’t they ask Satan for better equipment?  This EP is 17 minutes long total, just two short untitled tracks, with no audible difference between them. If true black metal is music that which doesn’t sound like black metal, then this is it. Plato or no Plato.

Ray Garraty

[thewhumpstuff]

You and I, Me and You [32]

[CW:- References to: Past gunshot trauma leading to loss of limb, human trafficking and trade, amputee oc rescued from captivity. ]  

[Teaser and Master List] [Archives of our Own] - (Lost and Found: Chapter - 7)

[<-- Previous] ~ [Next -->]

Empty by Ritonix

Jared was left feeling incredibly uncomfortable on Ezekiel’s turf. The blonde had just made that house his, left parts of himself in the tasteful debauchery.  From the thoughtfully curated pieces of art and display of exotic ancient instruments, to the carefully minimalistic nature of all the furniture that promised convenience, comfort and luxury. He walked into the study with Tariq. “Zizi… sounds like Vivi. Zizi… Vivi… Zizi… Vivi” Tariq remarked with a dry snigger. He needed some relief from the tense silence which he and Nova adopted, to let Zizi rest by the fire. This felt like a cheap trick to lighten things and it made her name feel strangely familiar. He swallowed his hollow laughter and surrendered to the awkward silence again when the other man emphatically did not react.   They made their way back inside. Jared spotted the tall woman resting on the floor in front of the fireplace. She looked like she was napping, lying on her right side. Only a single leg emerged under the hem of the flimsy gown. Her arm lay draped across her ample hips, the fingers caressing the carpet with every uneven breath. Her head was resting in the crook of the other and her eyes were closed. The stump of her forearm that she had lost would have been imperceptibly hidden in her hair. Not fingers, nor a fist was visible though the strands and that was enough for Jared to know. Much like Tariq, he had seen his share of victims. It was rarer to see them without prosthetics, though. He made it his priority to get her access to those as soon as time permitted after he got a grip on the situation.   Jared noted the swelling and bruises on Tariq’s hands. He jerked his chin towards the pummelled fingers. “Is she dangerous?” Jared did not sound fearful, just a little concerned and rather matter of fact. He was astounded by the resounding quality of Tariq’s answer. “No. She’s a survivor!” Jared narrowed his eyes, there was curiosity but no accusation.   “What happened?” “Things just got a little… hairy when I- we tried to get her out of the room…” Tariq sounded a little brittle; Jared rubbed his temple. There were moments that called for correction and inquiry, this was not one of them. From the looks of it Tariq had done the best he could. He assumed there was an altercation and the Q.B. agent held off without needing to strike or restrain the victim. “Right. You should get that looked at.” Jared said. Tariq’s amber eyes rested on Jared as he replied. “I’m fine.” “Yes, but Zizi is going to need a wheelchair, she can’t possibly stay here.” Jared countered, with an entreating glare. Someone needed to run tests on Zizi and soon. The situation was a little sensitive and the only viable option for a BioHacker was also someone Zizi was probably terrified of. He personally knew what it felt like to be hated by a victim of serum-healing. And Akira had had just one session. From the sounds of it, Zizi had it worse. Regardless, they had to get out of Eze’s house. It was an easy way for Jared to trump Tariq with logic. He had no authority to dismiss Tariq and he could only hope the man would show some faith in him. Tariq did have faith in Jared. Given everything they had endured, the mutual suffering, if nothing else, had created some trust and understanding. He could also see that Jared was really trying to get him to leave, but he did make a good point. He’s got this… and… “I’ll be back…” …Sooner I’m gone, sooner I can be back…

Zizi had not been asleep. Jared should have known better, after all, he had adopted a similar tactic to gain information when he was confined to the hospital bed. She got to her feet with astonishing fleetness, given her state, but she had to, to make a point. “Wait!” A startled Tariq heeded the exclamation but did not turn. “Your hand… I - I’m sorry…” Her apology was crisp and not elegiac. There was an indifference to her regret, but also some deference for Tariq’s chivalry. As sour as she had been about it, he had done her a favour and understood the feral nature of a cornered person. Even if they haul me back to the damn pits, at least valour and gallantry is not all dead. He pointedly let his uninjured hand hang by his side, clenching and unclenching his fist. “I don’t see a problem, do you?” “You’re crazy…” she whispered, like it was a personal afterthought. She shook her head disbelievingly. “Empty, that’s you singing right? I’m a big fan too…” Tariq said having placed the lyrics to the name of the song. He looked over his shoulder and offered a reassuring smile, pretending like nothing ever happened. Tariq wished she had not bothered to stand up. He understood that it was to demonstrate the respect she attached to the apology… It still felt unwarranted “Does this fan have a name?” “Tariq… I best be off though…” His smile faltered when he saw her doddering. He considered reaching out, he did not need to. Jared noticed too from the corner of his eye. The movement helped him snap back to reality. It did not take a genius to know a fall was imminent, he swiftly reached over to break the fall. She is fine. Jared will take care of this… better. Tariq conceded to Jared’s experience. With that last glimpse of Zizi falling into Jared’s arms… He left in a hurry. Once her gaze fell onto the face of the man who caught her, she stiffened in his arms. Jared Knight… Hailed then and hailed now. From the way he handled her, it became apparent that he did not know who she was. How would he? I was in a goddamn mask. And everyone who thought they knew him, were probably wrong.

There he was, composed and detached as usual. Out of personal, illogical vendetta she wanted to strip at that wall, bring to the forefront her own resentment as a victim, as collateral damage in the grand scheme of things. She wanted to and she tried not to, but the bitterness slipped into her tone. “Oh… If it isn’t The Red Knight.” She greeted him in another whisper that was soft and unsettling.   Jared could no longer ignore the feeling that something was off, something that necessitated privacy; luckily, he had some now. Those green eyes pierced his soul, with reserved judgement. There was a sheen of sweat on her skin. “So, where do you stand in all this?” She spoke coolly, pulling herself away when she regained footing. He frowned and was quick to let her go. She lowered herself to the ground with a slightly ungraceful fall towards the end. He sat down too, cross-legged. Like old friends by the fireplace, except it was anything but. They did share a past… And it was not pleasant. “I was told that Ezekiel held you captive against your will and that Novara was made to conduct experiments on you.” She winced; he did not mince his words. “That is correct.”   She did not add any details and studied the man in front of her. Jared could see her unwillingness to really cooperate. She had no reason to trust him, but apart from that, there was more to the simmering, penetrative gaze that pinned him. He switched tactics, it made sense to set her at ease first.   “You must be hungry… I personally like this one...” Jared held both the bottles of BuzzBo in his hands, wiggling the fruity flavour. It reminded him pointedly of Akira and their discussion. He ignored the reminder. She avoided looking at Jared and could not help choosing the other bottle. The one he did not recommend, the savoury flavour that tasted more like soup. It was a pointed decision. Jared ignored the feeling and weighed this logically. He assumed she was emphasizing a lack of trust. It would not make sense for him to tamper with just one of the bottles if he wanted to drug her. He broke open the seal for her. Look at you, helping me… Just because you have both your hands. Zizi really wished she could swallow the bitterness that rose like bile. She tensed and it would have been imperceptible to most, not to Jared. “Thank you.” Her words were too abrasive, to hold the gratitude they were meant to. Jared narrowed his eyes, he was good at reading people, but Zizi was not even trying to make it difficult. What Jared lacked was access and information, to figure out the why. In the spirit of trying to inspire trust yet again, Jared shrugged, opened the option he had recommended and took a swig. The sweet freshness was welcome. It quelled the odd queasiness he had not bothered to recognize until it was gone. “Ezekiel has been arrested on some charges; he will not be returning.” “So, what happens now, am I free?” She asked with an acidic emphasis, like she was challenging him to make a promise he could not possibly keep. He did not. “That depends on where he found you... Zizi.” “Found me? I was… traded… for my own life. If that makes any sense.” It doesn’t. A sharp inhale followed her words. It was difficult to make heads or tails out of that, but it did not sound good. He tried to prompt her for a less vague explanation. “Traded for your life?” Jared repeated, he hoped she would offer more clarity so he had something concrete to proceed with.   The more she looked at his face, the harder it became for her to not blame him for everything. Traded for my life, a life that did not belong to me anymore… because of you! He knew he was not really the enemy, not then and not anymore, but that just made it all the more difficult to handle. He got to be the good guy who was doing his job, she had to live with the damn fallout. She shook her head with an urgency and resorted to disjointedly spewing her lyrics again. Empty returned to her lips again. She rapped softly, like it was a mantra. It was iconic enough to be. “Empty… promises, empty threats…, empty lies and empty beds.” Zizi used lines she had penned a long time ago, like a serenade. The words sent a jolt of disquiet within Jared. Empty, by Ritonix. It was a long time ago that he was ordered to look for that enigmatic artist and his involvement in the chase had not ended well. He did not expect that name or these verses to haunt him today. Jared sat paralyzed. He stared at the floor resolutely focusing the fibre of the carpet, which was red and not green. Which was soft and not abrasive. Letting that solid red colour stand like a wall between the memories that sought to invade. It was a long time ago! I am fine. I’m fine now. And I knew the risks then. Briefly, her eyes snapped open, they held within them accusation that she failed to supress. She waved the stump of her right hand in his face. “That bullet changed everything! That bullet changed EVERYTHING.” Jared leaned away from her on instinct, he was bewildered. His subconscious learned something though, something clicked in the back of his head. - “Do you have a clear shot, Knight?” “Yes sir.” His gun was aimed at the masked artists’ head. “Take it. One dead should kill the spirit of the rest.” The crowd watched the confrontation, there were too many eyes on him. He lowered the gun, just a little. BANG. The victim was soon buried in a thicket of angry people. “I missed, sir. Situation is hostile, we’re outnumbered.” “Damn it, Knight. Get your team the fuck out of there.”   - “Break your mind, break your soul, break your body, to make you whole.” She went on. It felt merciless to Jared, but she had no idea what the lyrics were doing to him. She did not know that he had been brought to his knees for that shot… and worse. Jared resisted the urge to cover his ears and beg her to stop. Instead, he grit his teeth and folded his arms. He sat there, practicing denial as he watched her. She rocked to her own words, like a shattering star. There were so many dissenters who had claimed they were the legendary artist. Many had lost parts of themselves too. This could just be a coincidence. It could not be. It could not actually be her. And even if it was her… I did pay heavily for that bullet too! Indignation had become a recurring theme recently. Perhaps a part of him was finally tired of paying for things he had to do. Jared grappled with the forbidding memories again and tried to focus on keeping his breaths spaced and even. Was this just some cruel ploy? Some last-laugh game that Ezekiel was playing to torment him? Nikolai had buried everything related to that incident the best he could, but Ezekiel did always have special access. Maybe he found out what the Ritonix fans and crew did to Jared as retaliation for that shot…  Now, he wanted to know. He needed to know. And for that he would need his own clearance. He also really needed Zizi to stop whispering the rap… A door opened and closed somewhere in the house. The sound toppled Jared back to reality yet again and it broke the grim tension of the moment. Tariq returned with a wheelchair. Zizi was still in a trance. Her eyes were screwed shut. She rocked and rapped with an insistence, through lips that barely opened. And Jared looked like he had seen a ghost. I thought you had this handled, Jared. “What the fuck happened here?” “We need to get her looked at…” Jared replied, collecting himself quickly as he got to his feet. “Nova is the only option if we want to avoid exposure. Do you think that’ll be okay?” Tariq asked uneasily, they were both out of their depths. It was unlikely that Zizi did not harbour at least some ill-will towards the medic if she was a subject of experimentation with that serum. Jared was rummaging through the canvas pockets of the wheelchair, most of them came equipped with medical supplies, including tranquilizers. He swiftly fixed up the needle. I need… her to stop and we need to get her out of here. He rarely acted in total selfish interest, today was no exception. She looked like she needed to calm down and he knew if the verses continued, they’d rip through him eventually. And that would hamper his ability to remain professional.   Tariq wanted to protest but did not and Jared made a decision. “It’s the safest… fastest option.” Zizi did not open her eyes till she was already being injected with the tranquilizer. Emerald eyes drilled into Jared, with hatred and fear, before her vision blurred. Tariq hoisted Zizi’s limp form into the wheelchair and strapped her in to keep her from wobbling. Jared sent a message to Nova.

To Novara: Where are you?

Jared had made a mental note of Nova’s things in Ezekiel’s house, just because they stuck out and reminded him that she had to live with him. On their way out, he whipped the sleek, black velvet coat off the hanger and threw it over Zizi in a slightly unceremonious manner. His actions were plagued by a hefty weariness. Tariq took a moment to wordlessly correct the folds of the fabric so it covered Zizi evenly. -

To Jared Knight: I’m with Akira… I told her everything. She is okay. I’m okay too. :)

Novara had the tendency to include smileys in her text messages, even when she decidedly was not smiling. Grief and relief had reduced her to sobs. Novara had invited herself into Akira’s room on the pretext of watching a movie. It had not taken her long to simply, spill. Akira now knew more than Jared did. She knew about Zizi and she knew what Vivi-Anna, Tariq and Nova did to Ezekiel to free her. “It’s okay… It’s okay...” Akira’s voice was soft, she cradled Nova’s head against her shoulder. They were both in Aki’s bed and she hoped for the magic of covers to make things better… Even temporarily, like they had last night for her and Jared. She felt the weight of guilt, a lot of things happened because she made the decision to defect. However, things had gotten so unrealistically out of hand, at this point there was no way she, or anyone else could have predicted all these outcomes. So, after having plummeted to what she believed to be rock-bottom, Akira tried to rally. Focus on the silver-linings. Focus on the silver-linings. Shit hit the fan, but Ezekiel was imprisoned, Jared was offered SiC and Zizi had been rescued. Maybe it was time for things to get better. And she needed to pull herself together, so she could be there for Novara, for Tariq and for Jared. “They’d eat a bullet for you.” She was grateful that they did not have to. They had suffered too… And they had been there for her. “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me? Ever… not hate me?” Nova didn’t look up as she spoke. Akira could not make promises for Zizi. She chewed on her lower lip. “Time heals everything, right Nova…? Or you do…” She tried to lighten the mood. Nova half-sobbed and half-giggled against her friend. Akira joined her in the half-hearted chuckle. The sounds faded, the screen in front of them continued to mutter something unintelligibly. Akira spoke over it, “I think I want to meet her.” Nova received a notification on cue.

Jared Knight: Stay there, I am bringing Zizi over.

The CommCube traced Nova’s gesticulating fingers as they danced in the air, typing on a keyboard that her SmartEye lens allowed only her to see. She sniffled and replied to the text with a monosyllabic confirmation.

To Jared Knight: Ok! :)

“You might be in luck… They’re coming here.”  Nova could not help but sound nervous. Akira read her tone with ease.   “It’ll be fine…” She reassured.

[Tags: @quirkykayleetam, @lettuceknighted]

[porchbeers]

The Idiot’s Favorite Records. 2018 Edition

Back by popular demand, Porch Beer Club is proud to present: The Idiot’s Favorite Records of 2018

Happy Holidays Friends! 2018 was a sensational year for music, and I am excited to share with you all some of the records that struck a special chord this year. It was fun carving out the time to curate this list. I’m sure I had some great records slip through the cracks that I missed below. Share some of your faves as well! Always excited to check out some new music!

My favorite albums of 2018, in no particular order:

Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks – Sparkle Hard

Quite often over the course of the last two years I would ask myself, “Is indie rock dead?” Well, Mr. Malkmus and his friendly Jicks came back in 2018 to remind us that yes, it is not certainly not dead, but actually may be thriving! Leave it to the true indie rock hall of famer to reminds us just how wonderful some dangly and disconnected chords with obtuse lyrics can truly be!

Listen 

Father John Misty – God’s Favorite Customer

Consistent as ever, Mr. Tillman delivers yet another sonically beautiful collection of sarcastic yet poignant lyrical content. You cannot help but marvel at how brilliantly craft and direction this record entails. Never change, Josh, never change.

Listen 

No Age – Snares Like A Haircut

These dudes blew me away circa 2010 with their underrated classic, Everything In Between. So I was super excited to see them come back with a bit of a vengeance in 2018. If you haven’t checked them out, let their brilliant post-punk fuzz emanate between your ear drums.

Listen 

Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever – Hope Downs

Australian rock and roll bands will always have a special place in my heart. (Especially those that consistently craft outstanding music!) If you haven’t checked out their fantastic 2017 Ep French Press, be sure to check out that track as well.

Listen 

Pusha T – Daytona

Yeah, this nerd dad is still a sucker for some fly lyrics over some dope beats. And I’ll see myself out after writing that sentence.

Listen 

Neko Case – Hell On

The fierce yet delicate voice of Ms. Case has never been better. Like a fine wine, a Neko Case record progresses with marvelous wonders, covering the palette with sheer joy and delight.

Listen 

Hutch Harris – Only Water

Con: The Thermals Broke up.

Pro: Hutch released an amazing solo record, capturing a more delicate pop-punk sound. This is a fascinating & truly captivating album exploring some fresh new solo avenues while harnessing some true punk roots.

Listen 

Ted Leo – The Hanged Man

Super fun record from start to finish! Punchy pop chords for grown ups that makes you smile and sway from start to finish.

Listen 

Dr. Dog – Critical Equation

Another super fun release from the dogs who acquired their doctorates in Philly. Do you think they went to Nova or Penn?

Listen 

MGMT – Little Dark Age

I have to admit, I kinda distanced myself from these guys after their past few releases. However, they captured my attention with this record. Like their live shows, you never know what to truly expect from a new MGMT album. Hint: this one was fun.

Listen 

Joypress – Here On Out

Ex-Thermal Hutch Harris had a busy 2018, not only did he record and release his first solo effort, but he also produced this fantastic garage punk album from Cali band Joypress. Fun and energetic guitar driven record.

Listen 

Richard Swift – The Hex

Jack of all trades. He was to indie music, what Ben Zobrist is to being a utility player. RIP.

Listen 

Freddie Gibbs – Freddie

Breaking news: Thirtysomething Nerd dad likes another hip hop record. This one is as the kids say, dope as hell.

Listen 

Caroline Rose – Loner

Shoutout to my brother for introducing me to this record on a drunken post GMF evening. The catchy as hell intro track has been stuck in my head for most of 2018.

Listen 

Walter Martin – Reminisce Bar & Grill

Ex-Walkmen dudes are like renaissance men in the solo field. Fantastically crafted and lyrically eloquent record that in many ways sounds the way you think the album cover looks.

Listen 

Paul McCartney – Egypt Station

If I’m lucky enough to catch Paul live in 2019, I may certainly think twice about heading to the restroom when he announces that a new song is coming up. Best Macca solo album I can honestly recall. Plus, how awesome was that Carpool Karaoke from earlier this year?!

Listen 

The Sha La Das – Love In the Wind

I’m a sucker for an amazing album cover. (May have skipped over this record if not for that.) A love song with chops that could time warp you back to the ‘60s.

Listen 

Mac Miller – Swimming

RIP, dude. Gone way too soon.

Listen 

Jeff Tweedy – Warm

I really wish he would have named this records Schweedy.

Listen 

Arctic Monkeys – Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino

Such fond memories with this band. And their newest release truly doesn’t disappoint in the slightest.

Listen 

[digitalgossiper]

Fake Cancer, Real Gucci Bag.

Splendid Morning,

Today the queen is back and about to call ERRYBODY out. In particular, Ava Nova.

When Ava Nova was born, I imagine her parents gave her a buzzword name hoping it would make headlines one day. Probably didn’t expect “Ava Nova fakes breast cancer to fund her Gucci bag”.

The Setup

Now, Nova was a bit of a hermit crab. While being invisible, she obviously did some research about Bell Gibson, the infamous con artist who ‘survived’ fake cancer through eating healthy (Rojek 2017).

When Nova said her ‘chest hurt’ at lunch last month, her friend Brianna Westall looked up her symptoms on Web MD and joked she had breast cancer. We’re all guilty of self-diagnosis as “a large portion of digital health practices involve the sharing and curation of health information content through social channels" (Morehead et al, cited in McCosker 2015).

Nova disappeared from school and returned a month later with breast cancer and a plan.

The Plan

Nova did what any Gen Z would do, she started a blog. 'Social media brings a new dimension to health care” (Morehead et al, cited in McCosker 2015) and blogs can particularly help to record the emotional highs and lows associated with illnesses. As she was accumulating 8,000 followers, the school created an honorary day to help fund the mastectomy of the affected breast. ‘Save our Supernova’ entailed everyone wearing purple and donating to the cause.

But what did we do? We participated in superficial engagement (Farrell 2018). Like Movember, we had the mo without the money (Burgess 2013). We busted out our purple detailed outfits, lookin’ like a bunch of Barney the Dinosaurs. However how much did we raise? $300.... from 600 kids at the school. 

Pop culture artefacts like media, music, and fashion are important social scripts (Milner 2013) and Nova knew this:

Media - a local Leader feature article.

Music - Breast cancer survivor Olivia Newton John dedicated a song to her on a recent Today show performance.

Fashion - Nova created a ‘supernova’ pin pictured below:

and with a huge violin, we all played her a sympathy.

The Truth

While hooking up with Noah Dolder, instead of exposing one breast, she exposed her lie. Two breasts. Dolder faced the breakdown of Nova who spilled that it was all a hoax.

The month she disappeared from school? A trip to see her parents in America. The doctors notes? Mad photoshop skills. The money she raised? Towards new Gucci bag.

Unlike Belle Gibson she wasn’t fined $410,000 over false cancer claims. She was required to forfeit the bag and publicly apologise.

While Nova didn’t die of cancer, she is dead to Shelferry. Now we can all go back to pretending we care about others misfortunes and not just a themed dress day.

[jefferyryanlong]

Fresh Listen - Various Artists, Aloha Got Soul: Soul, AOR & Disco in Hawaii 1979-1985 (Strut Records, 2016)

(Some pieces of recorded music operate more like organisms than records. They live, they breathe, they reproduce. Fresh Listen is a periodic review of recently and not-so-recently released albums that crawl among us like radioactive spiders, gifting us with superpowers from their stingers.)

Reissue compilations, the songs of which were once buried in grooves of narrowly distributed 45′s, or the Side Two’s of otherwise unremarkable LP’s, have flourished in recent times. Once hoarded and gate-kept by the most fervent of crate diggers, these rare treasures–tunes that manifest an inexplicable magic that weaves into the ear and takes root in the heart–have never been more accessible to the average music consumer; owing to, presumably, the cheapness of the material to reproduce and repackage, the flickering resurrection of a vinyl industry in which assiduous repackaging is highly valued, and the proliferation and easy transmission of digitized sonic content through an Internet that has made specialist niche-managers out of even the most casual of fans. The traditional platforms of radio and music television to curate a country’s tastes in popular music don’t exist as meaningfully as they did in the past, and now the seeker, rabid as they come, can spelunk their way down a million rabbit holes on the Web to, at least temporarily, satiate an undying hunger, or simply catch a thrill. Along with Light in the Attic’s Si Para Usted: Funky Beats from Revolutionary Cuba and Analog Africa’s African Scream Contest: Raw and Psychedelic Sounds from Benin and Togo 70′s, there is for all of us compilation hunters Hawai’i label Aloha Got Soul’s Aloha Got Soul: Soul, AOR & Disco 1979-1985. Like sister reissues, Aloha Got Soul is not geared toward capturing in totality the predominant musical culture of the place it represents–specifically, the popular music of the place and period. Just as the majority of songs in heavy rotation in Cuba during the Revolutionary period wouldn’t necessarily have been characterized as “funky,” and the Seventies Togo and Benin soundscape wasn’t overwhelmingly defined by amped-up singers flailing their vocal chords against an insufficient sound system, Hawai‘i’s music scene of the late Seventies/early Eighties was, aside from the contemporaneous recordings of Hawaiian songs in ‘olelo Hawai‘i, mostly boring, soft love ballads carrying through neutered emotions. Which is why Aloha Got Soul is so exciting as a cross-section of the musical output of players and songwriters who never rose to the level of audience awareness of Kalapana, or Olomana, or Sunday Manoa (though Aura may have come close, and Noelani Cypriano has always existed on the periphery of Hawai‘i’s popular consciousness). Aloha Got Soul exposes the benighted listener to not only the technical mastery, but also the giddy bouyant strangeness, that percolated in sweaty rehearsal spaces and in recording studios where the air was composed of moist endorphins and smoke that hung static, because the fans had to be turned off for each take. Each song on the record tells a story about Hawai‘i and the the aesthetic preoccupations of the bands featured–from Kalapana-style jazz-rock ambitions to mathematical funk arrangements, from Windward psychedelia to stoner surf-soul to gentle coastal balladry. Propelled by acoustic guitar chords, “Countryside Beauty” exudes a joyful innocence, a tendency to celebrate things as they are instead of longing in vain that they would be different. Offhandedly, as if not to degrade the miracle of awareness and its saturation in the loveliness of the landscape of Hawai‘i, the band laments the manner in which commercialized civilization has remade the space it has overrun. But the fleeting acknowledgement doesn’t supersede the relishing of the temporal appreciation of of a changing (and fading) natural environment. Aura, who also have a full-length release from the Aloha Got Soul label, would have been a freak happenstance in any music scene, Eighties Hawai‘i or otherwise. Uncommonly tight, with a confident female lead singer, “Yesterday’s Love” is exemplary of their overall style–angular, yet consciously funky and melodic. It sounds as if teeny-bopper soul were being covered by hoary aged jazzmen. Despite the admirable ability on their instruments, Aura reserves their soloing for the end of the track, during the fadeout, for a moment relinquishing the rigid construction of the song for some loose, good-natured jamming.  Minimal synths and a nice falsetto bride distinguish “Your Light” from “Countryside Beauty,” in which the upbeat vitality of Kalapana is married to the soulful yearnings of Cecilio and Kapono. “Get that Happy Feeling” by Lemuria is an energized instrumental (mostly) that morphs into a call to action–like Pharell’s ubiquitous hit “Happy,” it grows grating because it’s so universally irresistible, like the greatest TV theme songs, or the interstitial canned recordings radio stations play as legal ID’s, or in between the real tracks. Hatred for music is a curious feeling. Maybe it’s better characterized as irritation, in that the negative feeling engendered by a particular song lasts only for the the brief span of time the song plays. But the tragic tendency of a hated song to propagate in the memory, and to fill in the dead spaces of consciousness (as opposed to say great works like In a Silent Way or A Love Supreme) with its odious humping like some fat blind worm can sometimes escalate a passing annoyance to seething hatred. There is great hate in my heart for Roy and Roe’s “Just Don’t Come Back.” I hate the way the song is put together, I hate the way Roy (or Roe) sings the vocal in a smarmy, self-assured drawl, I hate the dumb lyrics (”I walk all my lovers home, but they just don’t come back” sounds like he’s just murdered them in the darkness and thrown their corpses in a stream), I hate the fact that otherwise talented musicians wasted their time, talent, and spiritual energy on such a drag of a tune, artificial, cynical, and bereft of joy. “Just Don’t Come Back” is a completely misguided piece of work, which might have been forgiven if it wasn’t also so craven and calculating. Hawaii’s “Lady of My Heart” is more MOR than AOR–sadly, it’s either a predecessor of the bland mediocrity that was to overtake contemporary pop music in Hawai‘i, or just another example of it. Hal Bradbury’s “Call Me” and Nova’s “Feel Like Getting Down” are slow simmering, somewhat tepid, funk jams, rising and dipping tunes that fill the air like smoke from a traveling joint, obscuring the red light of the stereo. As much as I wanted to cheerlead Mike Lundy’s “Love One Another” for its sonic clarity, it’s somewhat deadened by its mechanics, more an algorithmic approximation of a kind of radio-friendly, blue-eyed soul. Nohelani Cypriano paints the stand out track of Aloha Got Soul with an Impressionist brush. “O’Kailua” is a lysergic Hawaiian fantasia, pedal steel guitars spraying colors as effectively as Stratocasters or organ washes. Cypriano imagines Kailua as the sprawling concrete behemoth that has insinuated itself through much of Oahu. Perhaps the song was only a Technicolor, spatially distorted vision of its time, but Kailua has fulfilled the prophecy spoken by Cypriano, a town choked with tourists and oddly uniform strip malls with the latest foods and consumer goods. Brother Noland’s exuberant weirdness powers “Kawaihae,” a musically adventurous pop song that straddles Hawaiian contemporary and the songs of the Moody Blues. “Kona Winds” by Marvin Franklin with Kimo and the Guys evokes sunset rays penetrating a fat wall of water, a quick ride and easy submergence. And Steve and Teresa’s “Kaho‘olawe Song” is the equivalent of a smooth canoe glide, the shore distant but you know you have enough juice in the arm muscles to get back. Essentially, Aloha Got Soul soundtracks a state of being in Hawai‘i, its songs expanding, growing in power, on salty sea breezes under the canopies of banyan trees and atop warm sands of cigarette butts and microplastics. Allow your eyes to take in Hawai‘i of the now with Aloha Got Soul rolling over your ears. Time will converge in a resurfacing of the endless vibes of music past.

[yeskraim]

We tracked down the cheapest mesh Wi-Fi system and it even works with Alexa

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(Image credit: Tenda)

Mesh Wi-Fi systems have become a staple of the modern household, and small businesses have also embraced them with enthusiasm. This is because they provide an excellent solution to a real problem: Wi-Fi “notspots”. 

The Tenda Nova MW3 Mesh Wi-Fi system will not suit everyone; there are only two satellites rather than three, and it uses the slower AC1200 wireless protocol. Still, for a mere $67.29 (roughly £50 / AU$100) from Amazon, this is the most affordable mesh Wi-Fi system on the market – though you’ll have to factor in shipping costs on top.

Tenda claims its system allows you to create a Wi-Fi network that covers up to 200 square meters and eliminate any dead zones in your house or office. There’s only one SSID and password to remember, which means moving from one zone to another should be seamless.

Here’s our list of the best routers for VPNs right now

We’ve curated the best powerline adaptors on the market

Check out our list of the best small business routers out there

Tenda Nova MW3 Mesh Wi-Fi system – $67.29 at Amazon

This mesh Wi-Fi system from Tenda won’t blow you away – it certainly has its limitations. However, for a small business or household looking to supplement the Wi-Fi coverage provided by a single router, this could be just the ticket.View Deal

The units are small cubes with 90mm sides and each node offers two Ethernet connectors with a maximum speed of 100Mbps, which could be limiting if your broadband speed is higher than that.

Another downside is that there’s only one radio subsystem per unit, so the actual available bandwidth is a fraction of the maximum theoretical data rate of 867Mbits/sec.

For better coverage, we suggest you opt for the 3-pack or 4-pack solution, which can increase surface coverage by up to 100%.

Here’s our choice of the best Wi-Fi extenders of 2020

Read More

The post We tracked down the cheapest mesh Wi-Fi system and it even works with Alexa appeared first on Gadgets To Make Life Easier.

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[loraxbbx]

First Morning File - September 23 2011 - OpenFile Halifax

 Below enjoy the text of the first MorningFile authored for Halifax, published on a defunct local news experiment conducted in 2011 or so in Nova Scotia, Canada. 

OpenFile was a tech start-up incubated by three flashy journalists with angel venture-capitalist money. In their white-walled-Toronto experiment, I broke my teeth as a paid full-time cub contract-reporter, covering the trauma of the ever-civil-liberties-challenged G20 summit in Toronto 2010. When OpenFile decided a year later to expand to Halifax, I showed interest in the job of city editor, me and at least 50 other local yokels. Nova Scotia is never not, seemingly, flush with unjustly unemployed journalists. But: I had the foot in the door, & was offered the more writing-focused, city Curator position instead, then invited to help select my boss. I’d been impressed most by Neal Ozano, from the field of candidates. Ozano is the sole editor behind my voice* for most of these blog posts, first published during OpenFile Halifax’s lifespan of 2011 to 2012. The original URLs are long-dead, so I’m bored & re-publishing them one at a time, for the modern era. Any error committed then, or inserted in this iteration, are hopefully mine. The “MorningFile” posts were created to fulfil the role of “weekday morning newsletter”, a now-considered universal, then-copied from Gothamist concept, with a SEO-friendly name we generated by consensus, if I recall, over the course of a group call. Individual voices and style of posts were determined by each city’s Curator. I’ve not approved of the so-called Halifax Examiner’s use of my voice and style to turn its profits & SEO-phish its online audience & subscribers, but I gotta say, it’s a sweetly vengeful move, of the poisonous kind that powerful media men like Tim Bousquet tend to bring to their business relationships. Bousquet concocted grievances against OpenFile throughout its existence, when we were competing with him for local freelance writers, stories and web traffic. We shut down in 2012. Bousquet, then putting in unpaid overtime as an alternative weekly newspaper’s city editor, couldn’t think of anything better for a couple of years, until, in a fit of nightsweats in June 2014, he determined to shed all his pride & steal from the dead.  Halifax, you’re welcome for my words below. Sorry. Not sorry. Etcetera. 

Good morning, Halifax. This is MorningFile, your daily round-up of local news to read over coffee or Corn Flakes. As news curator, I’ll be putting one together every day and tweeting it from our official account with the hashtag #MorningFile.

The story of the white woman hired, then fired, as head of the Africville Heritage Trust gets awfuller by the minute.

Over the weekend, the Trust and local media got a brown envelope with newspaper clippings from Ontario. The clippings alleged Carole Nixon had been let go of four previous position she held, and the reasons “ranged from mismanagement of the organizations she was running, to lying about her employment records, to misusing the funds of the non-profit groups.” CBC reported on it Tuesday night.

That night, 200 members of the local black community voted to find someone else for the position. On Thursday, the board sent a letter to the media saying Carole Nixon was no longer with the Trust, and gave no reason.

They’ve been trying to keep personnel matters confidential, but persistent media attention has forced the board to make further public statements. For example, that they didn’t know, when they hired her, that Nixon had been let go from previous jobs. They are also saying race played no factor in the firing, and crossing their fingers they don't get sued.

Nixon told CBC she might go the legal route. Ugliness-factors include: she contests the rumours about her checkered past, saying she was never charged by police for any of the alleged financial wrongdoings; she found out about the board's decision from a TV reporter; and she believes discrimination was a factor.

Nevertheless, the Sunday inauguration of the Africville church will go ahead, without a white executive director to help cut the ribbon.

The Halifax police are fishing for snitches. Last time they released a 'ten most wanted' list, four on the list turned themselves in and two others were arrested. This time, most of those listed are accused of breach of parole or probation, but Bruce Misener, 46, is wanted on charges of sexual assault.  

The first person to announce his candidacy for mayor, Tom Martin, now has a Twitter account @TomMAskformore. Seen leaning on a Layton-esque cane on a 2006 Coast cover, the former cop described himself in 2009 as the guy “who wasn't afraid to piss off the bosses" in the interests of solving a case. Meanwhile, a perceptive Twitter user quipped he’s “excited that Det. McNulty  has decided to run for mayor.” (The second person to announce his candidacy is ‘Vegas of the East’ cabbie David Boyd)

Yesterday, The Coast had the names of the five middle managers laid off at City Hall (in the name of efficiency, according to the internal memo from top bureaucrat Richard Butts). Reporter Tim Bousquet, an avid City Hall watcher, seems to respect the skills of those laid-off. Butts and Mayor Peter Kelly have yet to speak publicly about the decision.

At a Wednesday utility review board hearing,  Nova Scotia Power customers ask whether the proposed 7 per cent rate hike is 'greed or need,' saying the parent company Emera just built a $53 million new headquarters downtown and their dividends are up every year.

*Neal’s pure unadulterated writing voice was one OpenFile audiences did not get to see nearly often enough. He sent the following as an idea for the site’s launch post:

“It doesn't always seem like it, but Halifax is a dynamic, ever-changing beast. And with all this change comes frustration, confusion, and often times, conflict. It's fair to say that most of the time, the confusion comes from a lack of information, and context. Community members don't know why things are happening. Community leaders haven't been listening to what their constituents have been asking for. There's no dialogue.  And over the hill, like a knight in gilded armour, comes Openfile. Wielding a sword of pure journalism, he rides over the community landscape, slaying the dragons of confusion and misinformation, recruiting followers and fellow soldiers in the battle against darkness and despair. No one is left behind as his crusaders barge into community forums, crying for transparency, and collecting trophies in the form of open files, blog posts, and beyond. His sack is full to bursting with community participation as question after question is asked and answered and the townsfolk shout his name with glee! "OpenFile! OpenFile!" they chant, as he rides off over the journalistic landscape, writing wrongs, and singing the ballads he's discovered in his quest for truth.”

[crptngdata]

Collapse of PAL (2010) Rosa Menkman (NL)

In the Collapse of PAL Angel of History tells the story of the PAL signal (Phase Alternating Line is a colour encoding system for analogue television) and its termination. This death sentence, although executed in silence, was a brutally violent act that left PAL disregarded and obsolete. While it might be argued that the PAL signal is dead, it still exists as a trace left upon the new, ‘better’ digital technologies. PAL can, even though the technology is terminated, be found here as a historical form that newer technologies build upon, inherit or have appropriated from. Besides this, the Angel also realises that the new DVB signal that has been chosen over PAL is different, but at the same time also inherently flawed.─██─▀─▌█

This is the digital version of a live av-performance first done on national Danish television and subsequently performed at Transmediale (Germany) and Nova festival (Brasil).

Rosa Menkman is a Dutch artist, curator and researcher. In 2011 Menkman wrote the Glitch Moment/um, a book on the exploitation and popularization of glitch artifacts (published by the Institute of Network Cultures). She co-facilitated the GLI.TC/H festivals in both Chicago and Amsterdam and curated the Aesthetics symposium at Transmediale 2012. Since 2012 Menkman has been curating exhibitions and producing artwokr that intend to illuminate the different ecologies of glitch and 'anti-utopic' resolutions in digital and analogue media.

In 2015 Menkman started the institutions for Resolution Disputes [iRD], during her solo show at Transfer Gallery New York. The iRD are institutions dedicated to researching the interests of anti-utopic, lost and unseen or simply "too good to be implemented" resolutions.

Her work focuses on noise artifacts that result from accidents in both analogue and digital media (such as glitch, encoding and feedback artifacts). These artifacts can facilitate an important insight into the otherwise obscure alchemy of standardization via resolutions. This process of imposing efficiency, order and functionality does not just involve the creation of protocols and solutions, but also entails black-boxed, obfuscated compromises and alternative possibilities that are in danger of staying forever unseen or even forgotten.