#late 2023 is actually a fever dream

[ffrogie]

didnt call for that in our year 2023 we would be getting a dnpg google feud.

what a fucking time to be alive-

[sitp-recs]

Save the Date by @mallstars

Harry/Draco (2023, Explicit, 123k)

In the twelve years after the war, Harry attends sixteen weddings. As friends and acquaintances vow their lives to one another, he watches quietly from the sidelines. Step by step, Harry pieces himself back together, builds a life from the wreckage of his past and falls, slowly and thoroughly, for Draco Malfoy. A story told in sixteen parts, of patient and transformative love, of queerness, of reaching out and holding on. Featuring plenty of pining, Gilderoy Lockhart getting married in a fever dream of glitter and product placement, and Rita Skeeter spitting a steady stream of venom at Harry and Draco's every move.

“Perhaps this was how much of Divination worked. Showing you something you wanted, or didn't want, and urging you along a path. Sitting in the freezing ground on a Bulgarian mountain as the sun commenced its journey up the sky, Harry made a decision. He would get to know someone, the way he knew Ron and Hermione. Better, even, if he was capable of that. It was evident, really, who he wanted that person to be - and Padma seemed to approve. It had to be Draco Malfoy.”

Since I’ve been talking and getting asks about my most recent read I’ve decided this would be a good opportunity to write a brand new rec, and hopefully send more people on their way to this story. I’ve been in the mood for longer fics lately but it’s getting harder and harder to binge anything over 30k, so instead of pressuring myself to rush through it I’ve decided to take my sweet time and embrace the experience over the past week.

Curiously, I found this fic thanks to the author herself! We bonded over our shared interest in a niche fic kink (isn’t that how it always starts!) and she mentioned that earlier this year she published her first fic, one she was very proud of. Naturally I had to ask for a link to check it out and I’m so happy that I did. This story is a long, aching and deeply emotional love letter to Harry, carefully exploring his trauma and post-war struggles in such a compassionate way it gave me a lump in the throat. From dealing with his childhood abuse and a general lack of sense of purpose after the war, to coming to terms with his fame and sexuality to finally allowing himself to be happy and fulfill his resolution: getting to know someone, deeply. I love how that scene puts everything into motion, giving the fic a magical and serendipitous tone that helped me get through the angsty slow burn knowing that Drarry was more than endgame, it was inevitable. The tea leaves willed so!!!!

We follow Harry’s melancholy and introspective POV for about 12 years, each one marked by a different wedding he attends. There’s this weary wistfulness about the way he sees things that really touched me, as he struggles to find his place and pines on for Draco. We celebrate the friends and acquaintances we get to know through his eyes, one wedding at a time - and what a fantastic cast! I especially loved seeing more of Angelina as she’s not usually explored in fic. From Blaise’s to Lockhart’s to Ron’s to Hagrid’s, each wedding ceremony offers a new setting for Harry’s self-reflection and advances the Drarry agenda offering him new ways to get to know Draco and himself. They don’t always meet or talk but Draco’s always at the back of his mind, even before the resolution is made, and I found that quite romantic!

I wasn’t expecting this fic to span over so many years but instead of never-ending pain where you don’t quite understand why they can’t kiss and make out already, Harry’s pining is soft and tentative; it allows him to grow, explore his own sexuality and learn how to be comfortable in his own skin before reaching out to Draco. Despite being unavailable for some time, we don’t really need Draco’s POV to know he’s aching for Harry just as desperately. But we do get a glimpse of his mind through their correspondence, which is how they actually fall in love.

Watching their friendship blossom through the letters made me so soft and happy I didn’t want it to end. I think that was my favourite chapter and and I’m not even that much of an epistolary enthusiast! But their written exchanges create the most delicious anticipation and oh, when they finally get together they’re both so sure and devoted to each other it feels earned and right. I love how the fic paces the progression of Harry’s initial obsession towards a calmer, reserved and patient love. Just like he wished many years before, he gets to know someone deeply: this reformed and fascinating tea shop owner Draco, who adores his mom, is there for his friends, says Harry’s name with adoration and has a fondness for flowers and owls 🥹

If you’re looking for a cathartic pining!Harry journey, with gentle slow burn and satisfying payoff - the endearments! the smut! be still my heart - this long fic is an absolute treat. Check it out today then let’s get started on @mallstars’s new time loop wip!

Read on AO3!

[submalevolentgrace]

me: hey youtube, i'm really into gunpla lately, i like watching videos about gunpla kits. i have no privacy from you, you know all this already. so what's...

youtube: vinyl anime girl figurines in bikinis, you wanted?

me: no, that's not... gunpla. i like gundam plastic model kits. i wanna admire all the little detail in kits i don't have and learn some modelling techniques to apply to the ones i do.

youtube: ahh, gotcha. here's ww2 nazi germany panzer tank model kit reviews.

me: no! gundams! model kits of fictional giant robots! tiny 1/144 scale model kits of fictional giant 20m tall robots with laser swords they hold in their hands and put in cool poses! fictional. robot. kits.

youtube: this nazi half-track truck is considered one of the best 1/32 scale model kits for beginners, it comes with a full mechanised infantry support unit to paint, with accurate uniforms.

me: no.

youtube: best imperial japanese army fighter aircraft model kit 2023?

me: robots! fictional. robots.

youtube: ahh, best imperial japanese navy battleship model kit 2023.

me: listen, you...

youtube: a-10 warthog desert storm camouflage custom painted model kit!

me: STOP! i don't want vehicles of war! look i get it, gundam is a franchise about the horrors of war and we all missed the point in favour of 'wow cool robot' or lately 'omg cool yuri private school romance' or whatever, but it's not real. they're not real machines. it's not a real war, it's fiction. i can build these little guys as a distraction from the impending war here, from the existing wars, from the horrors of wars burned into my brain by live television news, i can love the zaku and zgok without conflating the republic of zeon with real world military superpowers seeking to dominate the globe and becoming a fascist fetishist because of anime robots.... i don't want to watch creepy old men salivate over scale model sculpted detail in planes with gattling guns that mowed down civilians, real human civilians, in real life wars. i want to watch energetic irish homosexuals rank the single-joined elbow posability of a bright red mech with a laser axe that'd be larger than a building, if it were real, which it is not, because these are toys for playing with, not historically accurate recreations of actually extant machines of horror and death. there is a difference! surely there is some confluence of keywords and user engagement metrics that can elicit an echo of understanding the difference in your unthinking algorithmic fever dream of signals????

youtube: ...

me: *panting with rage*

youtube: .....balloon titty anime bikini girl with the sculpted face of a scared crying child? it's a model kit!

[nhstadler]

A   S H O T   I N   T H E   D A R K

Two song choices: 

One:

Two (for my Swifties):

So, I’ve had this James POV sitting around and I thought I’d finally share it considering we’re reaching the end of this journey. I’m not entirely happy with it because I’m not good at writing spicy scenes. They can go wrong so easily because there’s such a fine line between ‘just enough’ and ‘entirely ridiculous’. That being said, *trigger warning* for very mild spice. Like, one chilli pepper. Nothing explicit.

Please let me know what you think. I’m always so thankful for feedback, no matter how short, long, cryptic. And finally, thanks for still being here. It’s been an honour writing for you guys.

A   S H O T   I N   T H E   D A R K

For a second, I think I’ve lost my mind. That my endless thoughts of her have somehow taken shape and are playing cruel tricks on me. Because she’s there, in front of my window, still in that damn dress and clutching my jacket around her shoulders as snow drifts by, catching in her blonde waves. 

“What…” I freeze as I stare at her, my T-shirt stuck to my arms half-way, not daring to move for a moment; like she’s a deer and I might scare her away. I’m still not entirely convinced this is real, but then she lifts her arm and gives me a wave, her lips tugging into a careful smile.

It’s not in my head. 

Seth Woodley is actually standing in front of my window in the middle of the night, waving at me.

“Woodley?” I hastily pull my shirt all the way down, stumbling over my backpack - still where I dropped it two weeks ago - as I cross the room to open the window. “Are you okay?” I look her over, not exactly sure what I’m searching for. But she’s here, alone, standing in the frigid cold in her gauzy ball gown and I want to make it OK again. Whatever it is. “What happened? How did you-”

“I apparated,” she says, almost surprised, her words turning into puffs of smoke, clouding her face for a second. “I meant to end up at Katie’s house but –” Her cheeks darken slightly, the colour extending to the tip of her nose as another gust of biting wind whips through the trees. “I kind of messed up?”

I still can’t quite wrap my mind around this; around her, standing outside my window, eyes wide and biting her lip like my wildest fever dream. I’ve thought about this too much - about Seth in my room, my bed - but this feels fragile. Like the phone booth. Like I could mess it all up too easily. 

The smart thing would have been to tell her to go. But I’m decidedly stupid.

“Come on, Woodley,” I say when a shiver runs through her body and then hold my hand out to her. “It’s freezing.” 

Her gaze drops to my hand, like she, too, knows that she’s making a mistake, but then she takes a sharp breath and reaches out, letting me pull her up to the ledge and into my room. She stumbles a little, slipping on the icy wood, and I swipe my arm around her middle to catch her.

“Sorry.” She looks up at me then, her eyes round and so grey and damn it, I’m pathetic. There was still a part of me that hoped that maybe kissing her would get her out of my system, but it’s useless. Because all I can think about right now is kissing her again. All night.

Instead, I clear my throat and step away from her, still not entirely sure what to make of this; why she came here of all places. Apparition is not a vague sort of magic - you can’t take a wrong turn and accidentally end up somewhere else. That’s not how it works and we both know it.

“You’re not seventeen yet, are you?” I walk to my door to turn the lock for good measure. It’s late, but there’s no telling if Lily won’t suddenly burst into my room, demanding to draw a glitter pygmy puff onto my face.  

Seth looks at me for a long second, biting her lip again, and then nods. There’s a kind of haziness to her movements, her reactions, and I realise that she’s still drunk.

Right.

“So -” I say, trying to give her a casual grin even though something coarse is winding itself around my heart, crushing the dumb flicker of hope that sparked there when I saw her standing in front of my window.

“I’m not supposed to apparate, no.” She shrugs, like it’s not a big deal, even though I know it is. I know that she cares, that this nonchalant act isn’t her. Something’s wrong and I should give her a sweatshirt and take her home before I can do something very dumb. Even though I want to be dumb so badly. Just for a second.

“Did you get into trouble?” I ask, skirting my bed as I walk back over to her. It’s unmade with my blanket piled on top and I curse myself a little for not cleaning my room when Mum told me to. It’s a mess and I can see Seth’s gaze sliding to the heap of clothes on my chair and the unfortunate pair of Quidditch underpants that dangle from the armrest. 

“Did you?” Seth gives me a grin that doesn’t fail to make my stomach jolt, even when I know it’s not real; even when I know she’s still pretending. But I humour her. Because she’s smiling and flirty and I’m weak.

“For kissing a girl?” I watch her cheeks flush, all the way across her nose, and for a moment, I don’t care that she’s been drinking or that she’s acting strange. Because she came here. Just like she let me kiss her in the Ministry phone box. A part of her wants to be with me and I want it to be enough. Even when I know it’s not.

“Your family probably wasn’t too thrilled.” I slide my hands into the pockets of my joggers instead of around her waist and watch the expression on her face shift - eyebrows drawing closer and lips pressing together as she avoids my gaze - and it all makes sense.

I only caught glimpses of her family when we stumbled out of the phone booth, mostly because she was ushered away immediately, before I could even so much as talk to her, but she’d told me earlier, hadn’t she? About that guy she was supposed to marry and about her family’s expectations.  

Maybe that’s why she came here; still drunk and reckless, trying to prove a point.

“I still have your jacket,” she says awkwardly all of a sudden, sliding the thing off her shoulders and holding it out to me. She’s probably realised it too; that this is the last place she should be. That I’m nothing but a bad decision. 

“Maybe - maybe I should go,” she says quickly, and I can see it in her face - the flicker of reason that pushes to the surface. 

“Yeah.” I let out a breath as I take the jacket from her and throw it onto the pile of clothes on my chair. I don’t want her to go, but I also don’t want her to stay like this. Like I’m just the means, not the reason. “Maybe.”

“Yeah.” Her voice is a whisper, fizzling out at the edges as she takes a step closer and places her palms against my chest. She’s frowning up at me, her eyes like storm clouds, fingers digging into the fabric of my T-shirt and, even though I know that this is going to hurt, I give in to it - to her.

I’ve kissed many girls before - and Augi on a dare - but kissing Seth feels different. New, somehow. Fluttery and shaky and so slow, like I’m doing it for the first time - nervous and a little scared to mess it up. She’s tugging on my T-shirt, fingers twisting into the fabric like she wants to tear it off, and I’m not really thinking as I pull it over my head. 

Seth blinks at me, her eyes and hair bright in the semi-darkness of my room, and then her gaze drops to my arm, her brows furrowing as she studies the letters that a very shifty bloke inked into my skin there in some London back alley two years ago.

“Seth,” I say, coming to my senses a little now that she’s stopped kissing me, even though my blood flow is directed somewhere else entirely. “Maybe we should -”

She looks back up at me, shaking her head just the slightest bit as she leans into me again, and I’m pathetically helpless when her mouth opens against mine. My tongue brushes against her lips and she makes a small sound that is my complete undoing, pulling resolutely on something below my abdomen. My fingers find the zipper on the back of her dress and, though I hesitate for a heartbeat, I’m too far gone to stop. 

It slides down her body, crumpling on the floor around us in a heap of silk, leaving her in nothing but gauzy underwear. It’s pale blue, with pink and red flower embroidery crawling along the lace, and I take my time taking her in - every detail - because she’s perfect.

Seth’s cheeks are flushed as I slide a hand into her hair and tip her head back, but she doesn’t pull away. When I kiss her again, it’s a little harder, a little more desperate, and it occurs to me then that I probably should be more careful. That I should slow down, because I don’t know if she’s done this before.

But she’s clinging to my shoulders, body pressed against mine, and I’m beyond reasonable thought as I trail my hand down her back until I can feel the tiny flower applications underneath my fingertips. 

We stumble a bit as I push her towards my bed - almost clumsily, with my hands grabbing her waist and pulling her into me a bit too roughly - and I bang my knee against my bed frame like an overeager 13-year-old. But she’s there, underneath me, her heart racing against my chest with every fast, shallow breath and her eyes heavy lidded. 

It feels wholly unreal as I press my lips against her throat, kissing and licking down the column of her neck to the birthmark above her collarbone while my hand drifts to the soft skin of her thigh. I don’t know what time it is, for how long we’ve been doing this, but it barely matters. 

I try to pace myself, but I’m breathing too fast and my heart stumbles along as I push closer, propping myself up just enough to not crush her underneath me. And then, she looks at me with those eyes that could be a painting and my breath catches embarrassingly.

The words are on the tip of my tongue, though I can’t say them. I should ask her if she’s sure about this. If this is alright. But I feel her fingers tremble slightly as she weaves them into my hair, the hitch in her heartbeat, and I know it’s not. 

She doesn’t want this - me. Not really. Not like I want her.

“What the fuck am I doing?” I mumble to myself as I push myself up too forcefully, but I have to. I have to bring physical distance between us to jolt myself out of this. “Shit.”

“What?” Seth blinks at me, the look of confusion on her face fading to something more gut-wrenching. She’s yanked the covers up to her collarbones, mortified, and I hate that I’m doing this to her. That she’s doing this to me. 

“I – I can’t fucking do this.” I shake my head, hands clutching at my hair, but I can’t look at her. Because it fucking hurts and I don’t know what to do. How to make it stop.

[bisonaari]

So I've mentionned wanting to do a list of weird music recs a while ago, and the idea hasn't left me so here it is!

If you enjoy weird music, come with me in the read more ohohoho I've got beautiful things to show ya

First I'd like to mention that my specialty is asian pop, especially japanese pop (I've been hosting a panel about weird jmusic at my local con for more than 10 years). So there's gonna be a lot of that stuff here hahaha

Golden Bomber

They're my absolute favourites they're incredible. First of all… THEY'RE NOT A REAL BAND. ONLY THE SINGER SINGS, THE OTHER MEMBERS DON'T KNOW HOW TO PLAY. Their music videos are always a delight because nothing makes sense

Other songs from them:

dance my generation

Yokubou no uta

Odoru na yo -do not dance-

Norazo

Norazo is this weird korean duo that I've been following for the last 15 years. Their videos are always the result of like if you could film someone's fever dream and it's DELIGHTFUL

Some other songs from them:

Your fortune

Wild Horse

Cider

P'tit Belliveau

I need to show off my country a little bit! P'tit Belliveau is an artist from Canada, singing in chiac. What is chiac? It's actually a variant form of canadian french, spoken in the east of the country. It's honestly pretty cool sounding, and sadly not valued enough. Anyway, his videos are very 80's/90's graphics inspired (with a lot of weird ass CGI lately hahaha) and he just seems really friendly I love him

Some other songs:

J'feel comme un alien

Cool When Yer Old

Téo Lavabo

I love this guy SO MUCH HAHAHA. So Téo Lavabo is from France. He's proudly lgbt and that's a recurring theme in his songs. His style can be described as… yodel/electro/pop??? I SWEAR I'M NOT MAKING THIS UP LOOK FOR YOURSELF

Other songs:

Vernini Vernana

Caresse ma salopette

TATI TATTOO

Little Big

Of course a lot of people here will know them, as they were selected for eurovision 2020 (I have been following them since like 2014 and I was HEARTBROKEN when esc 2020 was cancelled I wanted them to win so bad haha). They've started as a band that made music a lot heavier (still weird though), but they've mellowed down in the latest years. After the war, Ilya and Sonya moved to the USA.

Other songs:

Faradanza

Skibidi

MOUSTACHE (feat. Netta !!)

DJ OZMA

I have to speak about him because he's the person who started me on this weird music journey all the way back in 2009 (my mom HATES him for that HAHAHA I haven't been normal since). DJ Ozma was the pop side project of rock band Kishidan's lead singer, Ayanocozey Show. It lasted only for 3 years but oh boy what incredible 3 years they were. He was mostly doing japanese covers of kpop songs, with some original ones from time to time.

Other songs:

Spiderman

drinkin' boys

I RAVE U

Momoiro Clover Z

Momoiro Clover started as a fairly standard jpop idol group back in 2008 (I've been following them since then, it has been a while lol). In the following years, one of their members decided to leave to pursue an acting career instead. They switched the group name to Momoiro Clover Z and all the videos took such a turn, it was quite the whiplash. And it was for the BEST, they're aliens in the idol world, including the fact that some members are pushing 30 now! Their style is mostly back to normal nowadays, but they've still produced gems

Other songs:

Neo Stargate

PUSH

I think that's enough for today hahaha. If you want more or if you want to share some interesting artists, please don't hesitate!! I'm always in for new weird music hahaha. After ESC 2023 someone suggested Hooja and I absolutely LOVED it, and katinkulta has sent me some KAJ it was a delight. So please send all the weird stuff my way I need it like I need water

[bringinghometherain]

This new OFMD season has me wondering more about how Hollywood treats actors' bodies, because just within this cast it's already striking me as inconsistent. CW for talking about body types, weight, body image, stuff like that y'all.

Just to start us off, we here at BringingHometheRain Blogging Inc. believe no body type is inherently good or bad. Fat, skinny, doughy, jacked, whatever. Bodies are bodies. I believe that, but obviously the people who make movies and tv shows don't believe that, or movies and tv shows would look a lot different in the year of our lord 2023.

OFMD started off, like, actually pretty progressive for a romcom in 2022. Your romantic leads are skinny/doughy guys in their late 40s! A fat Black man is also portrayed as a romantic interest, with no derogatory fat jokes! The other pairing is two gay guys who are not jacked dudes, they're just dudes! One of them has a speech impediment and it's never played for laughs! We're doing great!

And coming into this I had already noticed a divide between actors based mainly in the UK and actors based mainly in the US. My experience of British television is that the actors tend to look more like average people, and US-based actors tend to be skinnier and more muscular. Especially over the last decade-ish, actors in US films and tv have gotten noticeably more muscular, to a level that "normal" people don't tend to reach unless their main hobby is Gym (and even then). I haven't spent sufficient time watching NZ/Aussie tv and movies to really have a feel for what the general expectations for actors' bodies seem to be in that region of the biz. Also this is not, like, a hard-and-fast set of rules I'm proposing here, it's just a trend I've noticed from watching a lot of tv and movies.

So last year with season 1 we had our Stiddies moment and all that stuff I mentioned above and that was great for everyone. And I imagined to myself around the start of season 2 when Con started posting workout stuff on insta that they were making a good portion of the cast work out for season 2. I pictured it as some some beginning of the shoot all-cast meeting where they were like "yeah so uh, several of you are now sex symbols? In light of this we've written in more nudity and the following cast members now have workout plans:" and so on and so forth.

(Not really, but not not really)

And I didn't think much else of it until Con's birthday post on instagram and the trailer came out with Con shirtless, and then I thought as far as "ah, yes, Con sure did work out. He looks good!" (Note: That's a lie, I thought "OMG WHAT A BABE.")

And starting the new season yesterday, it looks like Nathan's lost some weight and/or put on some muscle. And again, that lined up with about what I was expecting. Vico and Madeline's arms are hella muscular, which makes sense given what the body norm is for AFAB people in tv right now. Most of the rest of the cast looks pretty similar to how they looked last season, which did not surprise me. Taika looks like he might've upped his workout routine a little, but he's a Real Hollywood Celebrity so he probably actually has a personal trainer and shit, he left average working actor/screenwriter life behind a long time ago.

But then!

We got our merStede fever dream come true, and Rhys's body type is almost exactly the same as it was last season. Which is fine! I'm not pointing this out to be like "how dare this man not make his muscles bigger for us." The man CLEARLY already has buckets of sex appeal without needing to work his pecs 4 days a week. He's doing just fine for himself, the proof is in the fan art.

So, because I am a person who loves thinking about process and logistics and all of the little moving pieces that go into something like OFMD, I am now wondering: why did Con have to build muscle if Rhys didn't? Or did he not have to, was he just told he would have some shirtless scenes and he was offered the personal training if he wanted it? How does this decision-making process work? Are there differences between UK/US/NZ studios on this? Is this all settled during contract negotiations? Do actors push back on this kind of thing ever? Is any of this being covered under the SAG-AFTRA contract negotiations? Should it be?

I understand why it's not really talked about, but given how extreme Hollywood likes to take their actors' body types I do wonder about the behind-the-scenes aspects, especially on smaller shows like OFMD where a lot of the cast are closer to middle class than the cast of Marvel movies.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

It’s August 26, 2023, so you know all know what that means, right? Right? Well all agree on the significance of August 26?

Happy Cowgate Day!!

Exactly twenty years ago on this day, some shit went down at the Gilded Balloon theatre in Edinburgh, Scotland that we may never truly understand. I have been searching for answers for over a year now, and it has led down some interesting paths. My search has led me to learn about things the 2002 fire that burned down various buildings in Edinburgh, the history of the Gilded Balloons Late 'n' Live festival event, and the international cow parade, in the hopes that any of those could be related to what the fuck they were doing. But I still don't know, and we may never know. Maybe no one knows. Maybe, even the five men who participated would not be able to explain it, if I asked them, which I would like to. Perhaps due to forgetting in the twenty intervening years, perhaps they didn't even know at the time.

What I definitely remember is the first I found the video of these events, a bit over a year ago now. At the time I was working on another mystery, which has since been solved. I was trying to figure out why a bunch of comedians from the early 00s were nicknamed the Chocolate Milk Gang - I found a few references to the name online, but couldn't find a clear explanation of the meaning. That search seemed to take forever at the time, but in retrospect, it was comparatively quick. I found that answer within only about a week of constant searching (David O'Doherty explains it in his episode of the Comedian's Comedian podcast, it's because they got chocolate milkshakes instead of alcohol after late-night Edinburgh shows), but I had no idea that in the process of uncovering that one, I'd stumble upon a much deeper mystery, much harder to solve.

...Last summer, I was going through some shit. Depression, and related insomnia. I found myself staying up all night regularly, so I had time to do things like obsessively Google collective nicknames for comedians. My Chocolate Milk Gang Googling led me to some old videos of them performing at Edinburgh, I went through them one at a time, and I distinctly recall that it was 2 AM when I found this one. I wrote a post about it at the time. Here's what I wrote in that post, along with a link to the video:

Right. Okay. This video definitely doesn’t exist. I’m going to be honest, it’s 2 AM where I am and I should have gone to bed a while ago but I got really into watching these videos so I stayed up doing that. I just came to this one, which made me realize I actually did go to bed at a reasonable hour, and am currently having a fever dream. This is not a real video. Adam Hills did not narrate, via the medium of Eminem-style rap, while Daniel Kitson, John Oliver, David O’Doherty, and Demitri Martin took apart a cow on stage in 2003. Clearly, the lack of answer to my burning question about why the fuck they’re called the Chocolate Milk Gang has finally caused me to lose my mind completely. It has driven me to the point of mentally manifesting a YouTube video that definitely doesn’t exist. My brain has taken all the times I’ve watched Adam Hills rap on The Last Leg, and all the other weird Britcom things I’ve been watching lately, and all my Beautiful Mind-style efforts to unravel the mysteries of the Chocolate Milk Gang, and it’s thrown all those things together into one video that’s occurred in my fever dream. I would say it’s a problem that the events of this video leave me with so many new questions, but actually it’s fine, because none of this really happened.

I had no idea. No idea that that this one was going to keep me up at night for far longer than the original question. Since then, I've named the event Cowgate, and have tried without success to look up an explanation for it. I did make a post a few weeks ago that summarized some of what I've found on my otherwise fruitless quest for answers - that post can bring someone up to speed, if they are interested in the Cowgate Saga.

Part of that searching led me to this video, which contains a different angle on the events (somehow, it was captured twice), as well a bit of stuff from earlier in that same night, and it’s how I learned that the exact date of the events was August 26, 2003:

Look, I am joking when I say I think this was the peak of comedy. But there’s a kernel of something I really mean in there. These were five people (Daniel Kitson, John Oliver, David O’Doherty, Demitri Martin, Adam Hills) who went off in wildly different directions after this, and all, I think, did great things in their respective ways. But it’s not just about that. In trying to learn about the name of the Chocolate Milk Gang, I learned a whole lot more than I’d planned about the history and what preceded them and what came after them. They weren’t the first people to do the sort of thing they did. But maybe they were among the first to make it normal and mainstream, off the influence of the 80s and 90s alternative comedy things. And they definitely influenced a lot of people who came after them. And then there’s this one night in 2003, exactly 20 years ago, at the centre of all that, where these people took a brief break from paving a way in comedy to take apart a cow on stage, and no one will fucking tell me why.

I do also genuinely rather like the poetry in the fact that this happened on Nish Kumar’s eighteenth birthday. The idea that just as he was literally coming of age, these other comedians were out there throwing cows around to make a path for him and lots of other comedians who like that stuff. Nish Kumar has repeatedly cited David O’Doherty, John Oliver, and Daniel Kitson as people who’ve inspired him in comedy.

So today, that means, is Nish Kumar’s thirty-eighth birthday. Also the day his special came out. I mean, technically his special aired yesterday, but it didn’t start appearing on parts of the internet where I can find it until today. I do now have it downloaded, and I think spending the evening watching this excellent Nish Kumar show is the perfect way to celebrate Cowgate’s twentieth anniversary.

That’s definitely the only thing I’m doing about it being Cowgate Day today. I definitely wasn’t grocery shopping earlier today, saw a stuffed cow toy on sale, and bought it in honour of the anniversary. That would be fucking weird, if I’d done that.

…I’ve named him Chocolate Milk.

There are real-life things happening that make this a good night to celebrate. I'm a few weeks into my new job, which I don't hate nearly as much as my old job, so that's great. But it's also mostly between 9 and 10-hour days, so while I get used to doing this instead of the work-from-home job that I had for years, just the fact that it's Saturday and I didn't have to do that feels like a reason to celebrate. Also, I got blood drawn this week (terrifying, to me) and my blood is fine (massive relief, to me and my health anxiety). Also, most significantly, just yesterday, after months of stress and worry about issues with my roommate who's moved out and thinking I wouldn't be allowed to say in the house where I've been living for four years, my landlord told us that she's approved my application and I can take over the lease with full control next week. My best friend is moving into my old roommate's bedroom, I'm excited to live with him, I'm so relieved about this news.

So things are coming together, and I've decided to celebrate by ordering shawarma from my favourite spot, and spending this evening watching Nish Kumar's show and then watching various Chocolate Milk Gang things to mark Cowgate Day. Might take apart the stuffed cow with a pipe later, we'll see how the night goes.

[theimperialnuisance]

FFXIV Write 2023 || FFXIV Write info\\Prompt list\\Character info \\Master post ||

Prompt 16: Jerk

a quick, sharp, sudden movement.  Character(s): Kien Eilath, G'raha Tia Cw: nightmare aftermath, slight indications of a panic attack Word count: 941 Notes: No real set time frame for this one, probably between pre-EW or post-EW. This was actually a continuation from a prompt back in 2021 but I only wrote the first half so here is the aftermath of it. G’raha wakes Kien from a nightmare, not realizing how paralyzing his nightmares can be.

G’raha stirs awake suddenly, his senses on high alert at the sound of Kien groaning next to him. He slowly sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and taking note that the room was practically pitch black with how late it must be. His eyes adjust quickly enough, turning his gaze back to his partner as another groan escapes him followed by a sharp inhale of breath. It seems as if he was having another nightmare. 

These weren’t common occurrences–G’raha only noticed Kien would get nightmares on the days he was exhausted or sick and today had been the ladder. A slight fever from overworking himself too much again–he had nearly passed out during a meeting with the Scions so G’raha quickly excused himself with the other and put him straight to bedrest when they got back to Kien’s apartment. 

The other had fallen asleep instantly, practically dead to the world with how deeply he’d fallen asleep. This was the first indication of life from the other since his head had hit the pillow several bells ago and G’raha wishes it wasn’t in the form of a nightmare. 

He hovers his hand uncertainly above Kien’s shoulder, unsure if he should try and shake him awake or just let the nightmare pass. But with how violently the other begins to thrash and moan, he decides trying to wake him might be for the best. He gently calls out to him, hoping his voice can break through his dream but to no avail, Kien’s head continues to jerk back and forth as his brow furrows in pain. 

“Kien, hey,” G’raha doesn’t whisper, raising his voice a bit as he reaches a hand out to rest gently on Kien’s shoulder. The touch causes Kien to tense up and suddenly G’raha pulls back with a start as Kien jolts upright with a ragged gasp. He waits with bated breath as he watches the raven-haired Miqo’te look around frantically, his body trembling before he finally begins to curl into himself with a choked sob. He can’t help the small sigh of relief that escapes him. He was awake.

On instinct, G’raha reaches his hand back out toward Kien to comfort him but pulls it back just as quickly, ears flattening with guilt as Kien seemed to not recognize him yet. The moment G’raha’s hand had gotten close to him, Kien had whipped his head up and fliched so hard that his body flung itself into the wall. Now G’raha was watching in helpless desperation as Kien really begins to panic, ears pressed flat against his head and chest heaving for air as his pupils widen in fear. Shit. G’raha thinks–he was still trapped in his nightmare. 

“Kien, Kien! It’s me,” G’raha tries to break through Kien’s senseless babbling, his voice raising just enough and he leans over to flick on the bedside lamp, hoping the warm glow of light would help. “Listen to my voice, you’re alright, you’re safe.” He moves himself back a bit further from the other, hoping the distance between them helps. 

G’raha continues to mutter soothing words until finally Kien’s breathing begins to slow down and he uncurls himself from the wall. He had closed his eyes at some point in his panic attack but was now opening them cautiously as G’raha scoots closer to him again. “That’s it, breathe with me,” G’raha continues as he hesitantly places a hand on Kien’s shoulder again, relieved when the other doesn’t flinch. His eyes search the other’s for a sign of recognition as he slowly coaxes the other to take deep breaths.

Kien exhales, his eyes dilating for a moment before narrowing back again and he blinks, finally making direct eye contact. “Raha…?” his voice is quiet and still a bit shaky but coherent. “What happened?”

“You had a sort of waking nightmare,” G’raha lets out a shaky breath, squeezing Kien’s shoulder gently before releasing his hold. “Are you alright?” 

Kien slowly nods his head, his hands still trembling as he moves one of them to trace his scar on his right eye. “I was dreaming of my brother again. Of when he attacked me and gave me this. It felt so real. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t fight him off, I felt him grab me–I–” his voice began to tremble again as the tears finally break free and before he can finish G’raha pulls him into a tight embrace, rubbing his hand in soothing circles on his back. 

“It’s alright, you’re safe now,” G’raha whispers. “It was a nightmare, he’s not here, and he cannot get you. I promise.” It was strange to see Kien at such a state of vulnerability but G’raha knew part of this was due to his still lingering fever and he was sure the other would barely remember this moment when the morning came as he did with the nightmares before this. And that was alright with him. He would do what he could to protect him and keep him safe. 

Kien lets out a shaky breath, nuzzling further into G’raha’s embrace. The two stay like that for a little longer, G’raha’s fingertips tracing shapes on Kien’s back as he feels the other begin to slump again, sleep reclaiming him. He gently lowers the other down to the pillows and leans over to flick off the light before lowering back down to his pillow and pulling the other back into his embrace. Kien’s breaths are gentle and steady and G’raha hopes his slumber will be peaceful and undisturbed this time. He places a soft kiss on the other’s forehead before drifting off to sleep again once more. 

[ybcpatrick]

Fun Fact: March 17th 2023 Smackdown, I still didn't have TV or stream, but people were uploading gifs as it happened and I was there blogging about it saying "This is my final reason" and "This is my joker origin story" and stuff because it was SUCH A FUCKING FEVER DREAM, I can't imagine if I had actually been watching it I probably would have screamed myself into a COMA.

smackdown from march 17th, 2023 was the second most insane television event i've ever experienced (like, only losing out to november 5th, 2020). it was like getting whacked over the head repeatedly in the best way possible. that night was so batshit crazy that reading my live play-by-play of it thru text was enough to convince my friend to start tuning in mondays and fridays. it was fucked. completely, utterly, diabolically fucked. it was AWESOME.

what stands out most to me abt that episode (aside from it being The Zowens Episode Ever) was the structure of it. this year, we've started seeing an uptick in episodes having like.. what i can only really call an "overarching plot". top of the night, we bring out our "main characters", set up their situation for the evening, then we check in on them periodically 'til we get our "resolution" in the last fifteen minutes. and like, i know this format has been used by wwe before in the past, but i've noticed it happening a lot more as of late, and i don't think there's a better-executed example of it than the march 17th smackdown.

like idk. it's late and i can't articulate my thoughts as successfully as i'd like, but i think that episode was just so well done. the introductory "couple's therapy" segment was banging, kevin, sami, and cody were PHENOMENAL there. the revelation that kevin had been refusing to work with sami all that time because he believed sami didn't want him? and sami's facial journey upon hearing that, realizing just how badly he's been fucking this up? CRAZY SHIT. SAMI FOLLOWING KEVIN TO THE FUCKING PARKING LOT WITH THE EXPRESS INTENTION OF TELLING KEVIN HE LOVES HIM. KEVIN DRIVING TF AWAY. SAMI'S RESIGNATION TO HIS FATE. CHECKING IN WITH SAMI THROUGHOUT THE NIGHT, AS HE PREPARES TO FACE OFF AGAINST JEY WHILE ALSO TRYING TO PROCESS THE KEVIN SITUATION + COPE WITH HIS "FAILURE" THERE. THE TENSION BETWEEN SAMI AND JEY WHEN THEY'RE FINALLY IN THE RING AT THE END OF THE NIGHT. "YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS YOU DIDN'T HIT HIM WITH THAT CHAIR FIRST." THE AMBUSH. THE MOMENT KEVIN'S MUSIC HITS. THE SHOT OF KEVIN TAKING OFF HIS HOODIE BEHIND THE USOS. THE BEATDOWN. THE FUCKING HUG. THE WAY SAMI STUMBLES BACK IN FEAR JUST BEFORE IT, THEN COMPLETELY MELTS INTO KEVIN WHEN HE CONNECTS. THE POP.

i'm gonna go to bed now but oughghhhg. march 17th smackdown ur my everything. it was just such a good episode of television it was so satisfying to watch it was. ahh ❤️🖤🩶🤍

[erabundus]

anonymous &&. said... Positivity anon is here and wishing you a Haopy New Year! Is there anything in 2023 in particular that you'd like to accomplish with your muse? Or, is there a desired plot that you'd like to do? ♡ I hope you have a very lovely weekend!

thank  you,  anon!  a  very  happy  new  year and a very lovely weekend  to  you,  too!  💖

honestly,  i  don't  think  i  have  any  big  plans  in  mind  beyond  doing  more  of  what  i've  been  doing.  (  so  boring,  i  know!  )  i'm  working  on  changing  up  my  icon  edit  eventually  —  though  when  i  actually  finish  it,  i  can't  say.  graphics  brain  is  fickle;  either  i  finish  everything  in  a  two  hour  fever  dream  or  it  gets  done  at  the  pace  of  the  world's  least  ambitious  snail  dragging  itself  reluctantly through  a  marathon.  i'd  like  to  draw  more  of  the  scrunkly  in  general.  i  have  ideas!  too  many.  i  just  tend  to  get  so  caught  up  in  writing,  by  the  time  i  think  "oh,  i  should  draw that thing i wanted to do,"  it's  usually  too  late  to  accomplish  much.

i  do  have  some  mutuals  i  really  hope  to  write  with  —  and  i  have  some  mutuals  i'm  already  writing  with  that  i'd  love  to  write  with  even  more. i don't want to name anyone directly — just know if you're reading this, i think you're very cool and appreciate you being here. 🥺 ( sorry for probably liking way too many of your posts. )

[tintinntabuli]

Gimme Shelter — or Protecting Plants

I’ll always have a childlike wonder for snow days.

I have friends who have mastered the art of overwintering plants in our quixotic Pacific Northwest climate. They carefully plot and have a plan for protecting their tender lovelies with temporary structures and great migrations indoors where sturdy shelving and proper lighting awaits. I am not like that. As the first of the winter holidays approaches, my container collection of somewhat tender plants sits in an open-air shelter in the back garden where they are protected from prodigious Pacific Northwest rains, yet subject to freezing temperatures that may or may not arrive.This year the existential juggling of a weather forecast, the relative hardiness of my collection, and available indoor space is further complicated by the fact that I just had back surgery. Thus, all heavy lifting (anything over 5 pounds!!!) for the foreseeable future falls to the good nature of my mostly willing husband. All this has me longing for a greenhouse. n Old School ApproachIn 1829 Dr Nathaniel Bagshaw Ward discovered, quite by accident, that plant life could survive nearly untouched beneath glass. Ward, a London physician and ardent naturalist, collected a Sphinx moth chrysalis while on a walk and sealed it in a glass bottle with some damp earth. A short while later, the good doctor discovered a fern spore that had germinated and was thriving in the contained atmosphere. This led to further experiments growing plants in “glazed cases.” Twenty years later, when Ward exhibited his discovery at an industrial exhibition in Birmingham, the original fern was still thriving in its sealed interior.By the late 19th century plant hunters used glass enclosures, then known as Wardian cases to preserve plant specimens during their expeditions, which often involved long boat journeys. In the hands of the Victorians, these simple glass cases became elaborate replicas of ornate green houses. Fashionable parlors proudly displayed a delicate fern or an exotic orchid in a Wardian case as a testament to the household’s connection to the world of science and exploration, the domain of the not-so-idle rich at the dawn of the 20th century. I prefer my plants on the hardy side.

An inventive and elegant solution.

How I Roll…

When temperatures drop, my container plants are shuffled into our unheated garage — usually at the last minute. Truth be told, hauling in snowstorms may have happened a time, or three. Borderline tender plants in the ground are subjected to an undignified wrapping with cut sheaves of ornamental grass and draped bedlinens. I’ve come to believe is it even winter without a mad scramble?I used to have a greenhouse — it’s a lot of work, to say nothing of the question, where would I put it in today’s garden? And while I love the history and provenance of a Wardian case, the actuality is a bit twee for me and, unlike certain Victorian households, I don’t have the leisure time or staff to tend to them.Where is this rambling post headed? Honestly, I don’t know. Winter is for wandering thoughts and ill-conceived plans that with any luck will have passed in a fever dream by the time spring arrives. In my more sensible moments, I’m thinking about building a cold frame, and by “building a cold frame” I mean talking my husband into building it for me. I wait all year hoping for a look at the crabapples in snow.

Gimme Shelter — or Protecting Plants originally appeared on GardenRant on November 20, 2023.

The post Gimme Shelter — or Protecting Plants appeared first on GardenRant.

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[flydotnet]

Warm Like Birthday Candles

WHUMPTOBER 2023 DAY 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.” Thermometer | Delirium | “They don't care about you.”

A light piece, both in tone and word count, considering it's Whumptober and all. My original plan was actually a fic codenamed """Ultramarine Blue""" that was going to be an ansgty sickfic and a sort of romantic version of a story I wrote in 2021 for my (current, jfc) BTHB card, "Feverish Reflections". I do somewhat ccry the loss of how I'd have been able to use "They don't care about you"… but also, I knew this story was always going to also serve as my 2023 birthday fic for the original blorbo, Tachimukai. And you know what? This time, the angsty-ass sickfic didn't work for me. I wanted to be gentle, for once.

I kind of skipped over Whumptober 2022 and a 2022 edition of the yearly Tachi fic, so this year, he gets to have a bit of a cold, but also to have a badass GF; and I think it's good enough. I may just write Ultramarine Blue later down the line; but for this October 2nd, it's happy birthday and nothing else.

So, happy birthday, Tachimukai. I may not be waxing the hell out of my author's notes like I did four years ago, but be assured, you're still the one fictional character I'll defend to the very end. (Which not even Matsuyama gets to have, may I add, because I sadly have to acknowledge his canon - and it's clearly not as generous as Inazuma's).

---------

Warm Like Birthday Candles

Summary: Haruna's boyfriend is a lot of things: he's caring, he's clever, he's the sweetest man you could dream of… and he's also stupidly stubborn, not unlike her. Well, it takes a stubborn idiot to tame another, she supposes.

Fandom: Inazuma Eleven (post-canon)

Word Count: 1K words

AO3 version available here!

---------

“I’m fine Haruna, I swear!”

“Nu-huh, you’ve been feeling weird for days, it’s time you lie down a little and let yourself rest!”

Yuuki sighs, his lips perked up but his eyebrows creased.

“I still have class to do today,” he replies with a cough barely smothered inside his throat. “I don’t wanna let them down.”

She crosses her arms and puffs up her chest. Man, he can be so infuriating sometimes…

“Your students can wait until you’re not sick anymore. You’ve been dragging this cold on for long enough!”

He looks so conflicted, from up there, even through the red splotches of his cheeks and the slight haze of a low-grade fever.

“But… I mean…”

“If you drag this on for much longer, you’ll just make it worse. Plus, look on the bright side, it means staying home on your special day!”

He looks, as always whenever this is the case, utterly unconvinced. In fact, his expression is closer to that of a betrayed man than of a man to whom she’d have just told “see, it’s your birthday, and you don’t even have to work during it! Isn’t that cool?”. This man is going to be the end of her, someday, she’s sure of it.

(Yet even if he turns out to be so, she’ll still be happy that he is her epilogue. They put up with each other so much, he’s worth the hassle of being an unstoppable force pit against an unmoveable object).

((Well, there’s a very good reason why he used to be a goalkeeper – and why he was the best one ever too)).

“It’s not really an excuse, isn’t it?” He coughs into his fist. “The birthday, I mean.”

“That implies your cold is a good enough excuse, doesn’t it?”

He sighs, congestion stifling the noise.

“You’re never going to let me go to work, will you?” He asks back, suddenly resigned.

“If I can have a word about it, absolutely not! Now, let’s just chill on the couch for a bit and I can order us lunch.”

“I don’t even feel this sick, Haruna, this just sounds like overkill.”

She squints her eyes and clicks her tongue.

“Hmph. Let’s see if that holds true, then!” She points to the nearest armchair. “Take a seat.”

“I’m gonna be late to work, Haruna.”

“And I’ll make it quick, so take a seat and stop resisting your fate!”

In spite of his conflicted expression, he chuckles.

“Fine, fine.”

Once she’s made sure he’s actually going to stay seated, she rushes to their bathroom. One glance at the inside of the cabinet and she finds it: the sole thermometer in the whole apartment, ready to be used. With a swift rinse of its end, it’s ready to use, and just as fast as she left the living room, she comes back to it.

With a confident stride, she walks up to him, proudly displaying her tool. He’s focused on the screen of his phone up until he finally notices she’s back. Took him long enough.

“Open up,” she orders.

Yuuki opens his mouth, but not as instructed. She still uses it as an opportunity.

“Sorry,” she continues, “it’s a bit under-handed, I know.”

They both stare at the thing until it beeps, at which point he can finally talk again.

“Please don’t do that again,” is the first thing that exits his mouth.

“38.3,” she quickly snaps back. “I’m pretty sure that’s more than yesterday, and also, a bad enough temperature to take a day off to rest. Knowing you, you’ve overcompensated the previous days.”

As if on cue, he coughs.

“You really aren’t going to let me go to work,” he sighs again, this time wth a smile.

“Nope! So take it easy and unwind, I’m taking care of everything today.”

He glances left and right, before giving a knowing look.

“Or else?”

“Or else I’m calling Tsunami.”

That’s enough to send a shiver down his spine.

“You’re ready for anything, as always.”

“I just know you!”

She puts the thermometer away on the nearby coffee table, then lowers herself just to face him. He looks utterly dejected, which doesn’t come unexpected to her: you can’t just ask a workaholic to let go of his duty and expect him to take it well. She isn’t too different, in that regard, after all.

Despite his painfully obvious displeasure with the turn of events, he takes back his phone, scrolls a bit and starts a call. A couple minutes later, he’s promised to see a doctor so he has a certificate to give and he’s officially gotten the day off.

“I should actually do that. I mean, see a doctor,” he immediately states right afterwards.

She climbs up on him, cupping his cheeks with her hands.

“That I agree with. It’s time you take care of yourself!”

He smiles at this, eyes squinting just enough to be ridiculously endearing.

“You shouldn’t be so close to my face; you’ll end up catching it too.”

“If I’ve not caught it by now, then I just won’t!” She leans back to let him cough into his elbow. “But that visit to the doctor is a good idea. It’ll make you feel a bit better once you’ve got the right medicine in.” She sighs, this time to herself. “Talk about your special day, huh. Having to go to the doctor and stuff.”

“To be fair, you’re the one who’s always made it special. I didn’t really pay muchc attention to my birthday before we started dating.”

“You can’t say that to me and pretend like Tsunami didn’t do the heavy lifting!”

“Okay, okay, you’re right: Tsunami and you made it special.”

“That’s better. What do you want to do, now?”

“Well, let’s knock the doctor visit down, and then we can… We can just relax, I guess.”

The words may be foreign to his tongue, but they make her happy to hear.

“That’s a good plan, yes! A quick go, a drop by the pharmacy, and we can make this day as good as can be, okay?”

“Okay.”

[kevinsreviewcatalogue]

Review: The Outwaters (2022)

The Outwaters (2022)

Rated R

Score: 4 out of 5

<Originally posted at https://kevinsreviewcatalogue.blogspot.com/2023/02/review-outwaters-2022.html>

The Outwaters was recommended to me by two of my friends as a sort of "Blair Witch Project in the desert", a modern found-footage horror movie that takes the genre back to its roots: no pretense, no budget, just a camera with the lost footage of several people who went missing in the wilderness. Finding that it was actually playing at a theater near me, I hurried over to check it out this past Sunday once I'd seen what I came for during the Super Bowl (sorry, Eagles and Chiefs fans, I was only watching for the halftime show). What I got was a film where the first half fit that description, only for the second half to turn into something far weirder, a fever dream of a man sinking into insanity as... some kind of supernatural force in the Mojave Desert consumes him and his friends before ending on a spectacularly grisly and gory note. It's a movie that offers no definitive answers but a whole lot of suggestions as to what's really happening to these people, from cryptids to government experiments to something more eldritch to some mixture thereof, all told against the backdrop of stunning yet creepy vistas that hit close to home for a guy who spent eight months working and camping in the Utah desert in very similar environments. I left the theater feeling like I'd been sent for a loop. Make no mistake, this movie isn't for everyone, especially not those who like their horror movies straightforward. But if you have an idea of what you're in for, this one is truly rewarding.

We start with Robbie, an aspiring filmmaker (played by the film's writer and director Robbie Banfitch) who's shooting a music video for his friend, an indie singer-songwriter named Michelle. Recruiting his brother Scott and his friend Angela to help him out, the four head into the desert outside Los Angeles to camp for a few days and shoot their video, whereupon they start encountering strange phenomena, especially at night. Booms in the distance. Shadowy figures. The kind of thing that would make you pack your bags and head back home immediately, except it's already too late -- the desert has you now. What follows is a waking nightmare as everything simply goes straight to hell, possibly literally if you take certain scenes at face value.

The thing that this movie gets about found footage that so many lesser ripoffs of Blair Witch missed is that, in many ways, a proper three-act narrative structure is a liability. The purpose of the format is to convince you that you're watching the actual "lost footage" filmed by the protagonists, which isn't gonna obey the normal rules and conventions of a movie because reality doesn't work that way. It's why a lot of the first half of the movie has the main characters hanging out in LA and planning their trip, with lots of interludes to showcase Michelle's music video because that's what the characters were there to film. The characters' dialogue and actions feel loose and improvised, lending the feeling of grounded authenticity that found footage needs if you wanna take it seriously. Less Hollywood glamour and special effects, more mumblecore. It's why I grew to like these characters, flawed as they were as human beings in distinctly relatable and recognizable ways, and care about their survival once bad things started happening to them.

It's also why, once those bad things started happening and that grounded authenticity turned into something far more bizarre, it felt that much more shocking. Because this movie was still operating by those rules I just spoke of even as all manner of weird sights started unfolding on screen, from strange worm-like creatures that resembled skinned snakes to what can only be described as temporal anomalies. I felt disoriented and lost, trapped in a nightmare that it seemed like I would never wake up from, just as Robbie did as he held onto the camera for dear life and slowly but surely fell into madness (or is it?) As it turns out, found footage, with its sudden breaks and capturing as many mundane moments as important ones, is also incredible at capturing dream logic where you're trying to piece together what's happening around you and the rules no longer seem to apply. Banfitch took the beautiful desert vistas around him and made something askew and unsettling out of them, a film that had me on my toes throughout and wondering when I was going to wake up. It was a fairly long and brutal movie, but the journey I took with it was worth it.

The Bottom Line

The Outwaters is a hard film to really describe given its lack of cohesion, but I can say that it's the first found-footage film I've seen in a long while that actually seems to do something new with the genre, starting with ultra-real normality to set the stage for when it pulls the rug out from under you with a wicked and savage second half. If this is playing near you, seek it out.