Every day I see more instances of the Fancy Sadist Problem (fictional man is cruel towards a woman but he's effeminate so people argue what he did to her can't have been sexual) and every day I wonder if I just have hetero blinders on or what. Because maybe? But I don't think always?
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The Call
I try to be a patient son
each time Ma rings me on the phone.
This time I blurted, “Gotta run!
I’ll call you back when I get home.”
Barbara Lydecker Crane
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The fun thing about reading books about old Hollywood and then watching old movies is knowing that Sheridan Whiteside from The Man Who Came to Dinner and Waldo Lydecker from Laura are based on the same guy: Alexander Woollcott, who was just that queer (ace, gay, homoromantic? who knows), and how Hollywood was scared that having Monty Woolly play him would possibly make him SO GAY that Middle America might twig to it and that was a legit concern.
Also it's knowing that one of the two writers of the play this is based on was mentioned in the diary of I think Mary Astor and that diary entry was *read aloud in court* in her husband's divorce proceedings against her because she describes sex with him and anyway, he made her come five times.
Is this knowledge useful in any way? NOPE. But it's in my brain. and useless because I can't remember if mr five times was kaufman or hart.
Anyway.
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something something the upper class world in "laura" is a world of performance (waldo's "i should have been an actor", shelby being "unreal, a dream walking" who poses and performs the role of the aristocrat at all times, laura being described by waldo with shakespeare's "concealment, like a worm i' the bud, fed on her damask cheek", mcpherson thinking laura's apartment must have looked like a "studio setting" to diane) and mark has to grow from spectator to fellow actor. "a key turned in the lock. we assumed postures of piety as mark entered", "the scene turned theatric", "the scene was unfinished"... before meeting him, waldo spies on him from the door and therefore observes him while he thinks he's alone and unguarded, shelby too watches him for at least a moment before mark notices his reflection next to his in the mirror (isn't symbolism neat?) and laura sees him for the first time while he's asleep. he always begins at a disadvantage, and obviously so: he's an intruder, a stranger, a detective, and he's not of their class. but he slowly begins to set up little performances: the liquor bottle stunt with shelby, hiding laura's return from those entering the apartment, pretending to be ready for violence in front of his boss to get what he wants, and obviously the scene in front of waldo that allows him to confirm his suspicions and catch him in the act... he was capable of it from the first, but by the end nobody is able to read him as easily as before, because he learned the rules of their game. the shifting povs are perfect to reflect this too: at first we see him through waldo's eyes, even when he's alone; then we hear from him, we make our own opinion of him as his growing knowledge of the situation allows him more control; and then laura narrates, he shifts away from us and we no longer know his exact thoughts again because he's now completely in actor mode to solve the case and save her... and he returns to the very end to reveal what was performance and what not, as nobody, not even us, could tell anymore. he and laura both, who come from the lower classes (laura succeeded in her work, mark did his best to get an education by himself, neither of them was born in this world), intrude on the stage and wrestle control from waldo, who thinks he's the only possible playwright.
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Listening to the Lux radio version of Murder, My Sweet and suddenly realised the reason Amthor -who is not being played by Otto Kruger- sounded so familiar is because it’s none other than radio!Marlowe himself Gerald Mohr
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⚠ Amanda Lydecker :3
Bad powerpoints - Still Accepting
@arkhamcalamity
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🔐
Memory meme // Accepting! @masquenoire
Arkham Asylum was always a power beacon. A combination of Amadeus being blood of her blood and Ambroos Lydecker being so knowledgeable about the supernatural. Crafting ley lines and sacred geometry into his architecture. The city was full of places that could sustain her without a host, and it remained so through time. By the time the 19th century had come into passing, a new Arkham was in charge, oblivious to her presence in his ‘hospital.’
What she didn’t expect was the blood of one of her enemies being dragged through the Asylum doors, crying with a piercing rageful scream. Nor did she expect her to be so young.
Millie Jane Cobblepot was a mere twelve when she was forcibly committed. Catching the ghost’s attention at once. You didn’t need to be a doctor to realize the poor girl wasn't insane. Distraught, certainly, but she didn’t belong here. Nor did she belong in such a craven, despicable family if the kindness of which she treated other residents was anything to go by.
It’d only taken a week of listening in to realize what had transpired. Apparently not much had changed in three hundred years in the Cobblepot's insatiable hunger for power. They’d moved beyond burning girls at the stake, to tossing liabilities into asylums. Millie had wanted to expose her family’s corruption and start anew. And so, they crafted her a perfect prison to make sure she couldn’t. For the first time in three hundred years of killing off descendants of those who wronged her, Amity decided to make an exception.
It took time to find the right person. As fate would have it, Millie had a frequent visitor. Absolon Lydecker. Perfect.
“Lydecker." She could tell from his reaction he knew exactly who she was. Good. That would save time. “Should have known the foxes would keep their history.” They were still running in secret societies all this time later. Still moving chess pieces across the city.
“I’ll make this brief. You care for Millie, and we both know she doesn’t belong here. I have a proposition for you. That will benefit us all.”
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Using form: Couplets: Barbara Lydecker Crane, 'Secret Adages'
“Write nothing down in ink” is the secret’s first rule; “You promise not to tell?” said the secret’s first fool. A secret’s likely safe if entrusted to a stranger; one who knows no English will further lessen danger. Don’t hide a guilty secret no other person knows; like mold behind a ceiling, a spreading fester shows. Secrets may be sweet, too delicious not to share. To savor them together might…
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Disney Haunted Mansions: Inspired by real haunted houses?
Haunted Mansions in Magic Kingdom (upper left) and Disneyland (lower right).
Did real houses inspire each of the Haunted Mansions in U.S. Disney parks? What about the one in Tokyo Disneyland? Phantom Manor in Disneyland Paris or the Mystic Manor in Hong Kong Disneyland? Are they just reincarnations of either the Haunted Mansion in California or the one in Florida? Or are their designs conjured…
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