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hayffiebird · 5 years ago

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Taste of Strawberries, Chap. 21

Hayffie Post-Mockingjay Multi-chapter, Rated M

I hope you like angst on your fanfic sandwish :) Leave a comment and tell me your thoughts!

Also: (spoiler not a spoiler) I included the Capitol anthem from the new THG book “The ballad of songbirds and snakes” but it doesn’t give away the story so it’s safe to read.

Chapter 21 The betrayal

*ring ring*

… What?

*swallows back a sob* Haymitch? Haymitch, it’s me.

Ah. There she is. Long time no princess. What can you want?

I’m sorry. I know I should have called you a long time ago.

Oh, I remember that voice. Effs Trinket needs a shoulder to cry on, huh? So she goes to good ol’ Haymitch. Course. *takes a mouthful of something* It’s too bad mine’re all the way down here then. Both of ‘em.

I can take the train. If I go now I ought to be…

Here in a day. Yeah. And I’m supposed to just welcome you with open arms?

Haymitch…

That’s my name.

I really must speak to you. It’s im…

What for? I’m a dead-end drunk, remember?

I’ve never called…

No, that’s right. Your words were much fancier.

I know you’re angry. This is not easy for me either but…

I’m fine, sweetheart. Just fine. Can’t ruin a life that’s already ruined, right? I s’pose you want all your crap back? Yeah, the kids have it. They think you’re gonna come back, you know. “When hell freezes over”, am I right? But you know Peeta. I’ll just tell ‘em to send it over straight away so you never have to set your foot here ever again. Great, huh?

You left me, Haymitch! I didn’t want you to go! I didn’t want it to end!

Could’ve fooled me. *twists the top of another bottle* And don’t you worry your pretty head, sweetheart. You’ll get over it. Trust me. Soon you’re gonna find some nice, wholesome guy who does exactly what he’s told. It’ll be all: “Yes, Euphemia. No, Euphemia. Whatever you say, Eu…”

Don’t call me that! Haymitch, please! Mrs. Q, she… she tried to… I need you! If you care about me at all…

Oh, I cared about you. A lot. More than a lot. Should’ve fucking known better. So why don’t you call Plutarch or Octavia or any other of your friends and just leave me alone. Cause I owe you nothing. Nothing at all.

*sobs* I’m so stupid.

Have a wonderful life, Eff. I’m sure you’re gonna be deliriously happy.

*toot toot*

xXx

There was still some broth left. Katniss slipped her flask into a jacket pocket and poured a second mug.

The storm had finally blown itself out, for now anyway, but one look through the window quelled all hope for a hunting day. No point roaming the woods for sustenance when the snow lay waist-deep.

She fed Buttercup her last piece of bacon and carried the mug into the living room.

“I’m going to the bakery.”

Nightmares had made Haymitch kick all the cushions off the couch again. He lay on his side with the knife cradled against his chest like some scary version of a teddy bear.

“There’re scrambled eggs if you want it,” Katniss said. “And some bacon. I left it on the stove.”

She couldn’t set the mug down. Wasn’t enough space on the coffee table and Haymitch grunted at the sound of glass against glass when she tossed the empties in the container by the door.

He muttered something she couldn’t make sense of and pulled his arm up over his eyes to ward off the light from the one lamp. “Drink the broth at least.” She placed the cup at arm’s reach and was gone.

It was almost a month now since Haymitch set up camp on their couch. One day mid-dinner he just staggered into their living room and he hadn’t left since.

He was decent enough to not completely trash the place but still, you didn’t want Haymitch Abernathy for a roommate. He was hard enough to deal with nextdoor.

Katniss couldn’t stand it being at home these days. Haymitch woke both her and Peeta almost every night with the agonized sounds he made in his sleep and daytime was no better.

Their mentor, hollow-eyed and shrunken on the couch – it all reminded her too much of her mother and Katniss fled when she couldn’t help. She kept to the woods as much as possible and if not the woods the bakery or the Hob or Hazelle’s.

Anywhere but home.

When they finally asked him if it wasn’t time he moved back to his own house, they cleaned it for him, Haymitch only shot them a long look, like a dog they had just mistreated and rolled over so he faced the couch.

“She’s there,” that’s all he muttered.

And what could they do? Not tie him up and dump him somewhere. He was their mentor and they already owed him more than they could ever repay.

They had known something was off the moment they got home, the day before Christmas Eve.

They walked up the old pathway, loaded with bags and the first thing they saw when they passed Haymitch’s house was the Christmas tree lying in the snow, still green and frosty and covered with ornaments. Like someone had just thrown it out the door.

And it wasn’t the only thing.

In the ever-growing light they saw the ground littered with items. Towels and bed sheets and bath robes lay in bundles, all frozen stiff. Soggy, old newspapers and magazines too, blown apart by the frisk wind.

Her clothes were everywhere, along with an endless number of bottles and jars and other beauty products half-buried in the snow. They found napkins and slippers, perfume bottles and pillows. Hairbrushes, tea cups, blankets, curtains, shower curtains, even anagrammed towel hangers attached to chunks of the bathroom wall.

The state of his house was even worse, like a twister had gone through it. They asked him about it but Haymitch was a closed book.

Then, of course they found Effie’s note on their kitchen table and it wasn’t hard to piece together what had happened in their short absence.

They wanted to help. Of course they did. Only, how? Wasn’t like they could change what had already happened or say anything to make it better.

Not that Peeta didn’t try to talk to him. Talk at him. Finally Katniss stepped up and said, not unkindly,

“Just leave him be.”

Haymitch had said next to nothing the whole time but when Katniss and Peeta turned to leave he stopped them in their tracks.

“Just so we’re clear,” he said and looked Peeta straight in the eye; a feat considering how intoxicated he was. “You don’t get any ideas ‘bout calling the Capitol, alright. I mean it, boy. This is my wreckage.”

Sun set early this time of year. For the remaining hours, Katniss and Peeta dug for treasures in Haymitch’s garden, until they had to squint in order to see. And even then some of Effie’s belongings would probably not be found until Spring.

They brought it all back to their house. Silently, Peeta filled the sink with hot water and suds and washed the plates and glasses and tea cups while Katniss stood at the ready with a towel, both of them deep in thought.

Back in District 4, when Peeta gathered her in bed, he had teased her about their cosy, up-coming Christmas. Painted her pictures of Effie plaguing both her and Haymitch with her bright holiday spirit and bringing them gifts – wrapped in regular wrappings so she didn’t technically break Haymitch’s rule of “no Christmas presents.”

Dinner at the Hob would follow where Effie would spend about two thirds of it clucking over Haymitch’s table manners and Haymitch stating he should just hire her voice to cut his turkey for him and “we’re not doing this again, that’s for sure”, all the while not quite able to keep his hands to himself.

“And then they’ll top the evening with a see-through excuse like ‘I’m gonna go get a bottle’ or ‘I am simply exhausted. Do you mind if we call it a night?’,” Peeta finished and grinned at Katniss who squirmed like a worm in hot ashes.

It just felt good to make fun of their mentor being happy for once. Happy with Effie.

Now, everything was in ruins and tomorrow would be just like any other day, with Haymitch drunk and getting drunker.

Not that Christmas had ever been a busy affair in the Victor’s Village. They had dinner and that was pretty much it. A slightly fancier one, perhaps, with about a 50% chance of Haymitch joining. He only ever showed up last New Year’s because of Effie.

Because of Effie. That phrase applied for many aspects of Haymitch’s life, didn’t it? He’d deny it but just the fact she got him to even consider drying out pretty much said everything.

“Maybe we should call her,” Peeta wondered, not sure himself.

“But you heard him,” Katniss said. “This is none of our business. And they’ll come around, eventually.”

They were both so used to their mentor and escort’s antics. Those stubborn, old fools were always at each other’s throat and through and through they found a way back to one other. Back at each other’s side.

This too would pass, surely? Sooner or later, one of them would swallow their pride and pick up the phone.

And while Katniss and Peeta waited for that call they stored Effie’s things for safe-keeping, well out of Haymitch’s sight and stopped asking questions.

But February rolled to a close with dark days and even darker nights. Life in Twelve was just one storm after another and people were forced to seek shelter at the Hob so as not to get lost in them. The vixen’s cry echoed in the night and Katniss and Peeta stored up on candle sticks for the blackouts.

March came with the deceiving breath of spring only to bury the district in a second winter. Hazelle’s kids put her on bed rest after a sprained ankle. Brooks gushed in plentiful streams under the ice and an apple-cheeked Katniss returned from the woods, game bag loaded with wild turkey.

April arrived with warmer weather. Tiny greens peeked in people’s gardens and the patches of last year’s grass grew bigger for each day. Water dropped down every icicle and town’s kids and Seam kids alike melted snow in water barrels to make the spring come faster.

Everyone kept busy. It was a time of change, of rebirth. Winter was finally over and it had a rejuvenating effect on everyone.

Well, almost everyone.

Effie’s name was never mentioned and yet she was ever present. If an outsider walked past and saw Haymitch on the couch he might think “same old, same old”. But Katniss and Peeta were family and they knew him better than that.

Haymitch had never been an easy person to deal with and definitely not a happy-go-lucky one. But every once in a while, if he had a couple hours of dreamless sleep it was like he got an energy boost.

That’s when he got up, checked on the geese, helped Peeta in the bakery, maybe just had a hot meal down at the Hob before he returned to his bottles.

Now, it was like he didn’t care about anything anymore. He just lay on the couch, drinking and God help the one who bothered him. He only ever left for the bathroom breaks or when his liquor ran out.

But even that came to an end.

It happened when Haymitch staggered into the Hob on a Sunday morning.

“Usual,” he slurred and tossed handfuls of money on Ripper’s bar counter.

“Sorry, Haymitch. You’re too early,” she said. “The train doesn’t arrive until Monday. We’re all out now.”

“Usual!” Haymitch repeated, louder this time like she was slow. Sighs rose from around the tables.

“It’s Sunday,” Ripper told him patiently. “Come back tomorrow and I’ll get your bottles. I can’t sell it to you now because we’re out.”

She couldn’t make him understand. Each time she tried Haymitch only got surlier. “Wha’s the problem?” he whined. “I have money. Wha’s the problem?”

He scared some of the little kids eating breakfast with their parents. The temperature in the diner seemed to have dropped twenty degrees and finally a gray-haired old man muttered, loud enough for Haymitch to hear it,

“Who’d have thought we’d ever wish for that fancy sow to come back?”

That’s when Haymitch wielded his knife. He was so drunk it was pathetic but for Ripper that was it! She kicked him out and told him either he left his knife at home or he would have to get someone else to buy him his liquor.

From then on, Katniss and Peeta stocked up his supplies and Haymitch found even fewer reasons to get up.

What for?

Maybe it would have been better, Katniss thought. Less cruel, if he never got those precious few months with Effie. Because losing her, losing her altogether and not just as a lover, seemed to have opened a crack in his rock bottom and pushed him down that hole as well.

And Effie, how was she doing?

xXx

May. God, he hated May. Ever since he turned twelve, the month right before the Hunger Games was nothing but a ticking clock. Even now, years after the war had ended, there were still times when he started awake, thinking,

Reaping day’s almost here!

He couldn’t sleep. While he marinated his liver a bug had detoured in to the house and was now buzzing about in the window.

The sound unnerved him because the bloody thing just wouldn’t give up! It bumped and thumped against the glass over and over again, yearning for freedom.

It was Peeta’s damn fault. He always opened a window when it rained.

Finally he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright, alright,” Haymitch growled and swung his legs off of the couch.

It was a wasp. Not the tracker jacker kind, just a regular one. It crawled along the window sill, flew into the glass once more and wiggled it’s antennae in irritation.

“Out with you now,” Haymitch muttered as he struggled with the window hooks. “Be free.” And watched the bug disappear.

The night air felt balmy against his skin. He took his time unscrewing the lid on the silver hip flask. The geese were quiet for a change but the mockingjays were still up, frisky and begging for company. He ran his hand through his wild beard and drank the flask dry. It didn’t take long.

He was just looking for something to fill it up with when he heard the sound. One even his soaked brain could place.

A phone. Ringing.

His mind jumped to Effie and he could’ve kicked himself for it. He resisted the desire to slam the window shut and closed it before he returned to the couch. The coffee table held nothing but empties. They clinked under his fingertips until he found one with some in it. He lifted it to his lips and greeted the burn with a sigh of relief.

Outside, the ringing continued. Even with the window closed, there was no escaping it.

It’s not her. Why’d she call now? No reason for her to call now.

After what felt like 10 years, the phone silenced. The knot in his stomach eased somewhat and after he promised himself to tear the phone out the wall as soon as the sun rose he walked over to the cabinet and peeked inside.

“Thank you, kids,” he mumbled at the welcomed sight. He grabbed same bottles at random and brought them back to the couch. But before he got the chance to flop down on his ass-print the phone went off again.

“Oh, fuck me,” he wheezed.

Who called him at three in the morning? No, strike that. Who called him, period?

Sweat trickled down his sides in never-ending streams. The sound played on his nerve strings like a violin. It was the wasp all over again because the caller, whoever it was, didn’t give up. Refused to stop until he did something about it.

A hundred whispered insults spilled over Haymitch’s lips as he pulled on his shoes.

He hadn’t seen the inside of his house in months. The last time he was here had been a fucking nightmare. Broken furniture, broken everything.

The long, hard signals cut through the stillness like a knife.

It’s not her.

He picked up the phone and the blare of music nearly ripped her ear drum. He held the thing a meter away.

“Hello?” someone called. “Helloo?”

He brought the phone closer.

“Who is this?”

“Well, hi to you too!” the person laughed. It was a woman’s voice. One he recognized, only he couldn’t quite place it. From the Capitol at least. “How’s the bachelor’s life treating you, Haycock?” the stranger woman asked. When he didn’t answer she went on, “It’s me, Gloria! Gloria Highgrass. We met at Octavia’s birthday party, remember? Yellow dress. Good-for-nothing cousin by my side.”

Haymitch drew a silent sigh. Of course.

“Where you’ve been hiding, hm?” she asked. ”Haven’t seen you in a while. Finally tired of your afternoon delight?”

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself.”

“Oh,” Gloria chuckled. “You kiss your bottle with that mouth? What would Effie said?”

Her words drew giggles. Clearly, they had an audience and he was just about to slam the phone down when she said,

“I just saw her, that little cock-warmer of yours. And between you and me: I don’t blame you for leaving. What a mess, haha! You screwed her up good, Haycock! She’s so unfuckable now! Well done, sir. Well done.”

And her brilliant laughter hammered his head.

“Do you know we all placed bets on how long the two of you would last? It’s true! You cost me a fortune, Haycock! You guys stuck it out way longer than I thought. And then my useless cousin told me about your little scene at the train station. ‘Get your shit together’ and all that. God, I wish I was there!”

She had a sip of something and then rallied on,

”You wanna know what I think? I think she planned the whole thing. So you’d never leave her. Too bad she forgot that district scum scurry off like cockroaches once the light’s on. Well, she’s paying for it now, isn’t she? How’d she tell you? Before or after you cleared out?”

It was a wonder the phone didn’t break in Haymitch’s fist. He could hardly breathe, that’s how furious he was. But he refused to give this woman the satisfaction of him losing his temper.

“Hey, lady,” he said, in a very measured voice. “If you know something about Effie, spit it out. Or else you can just stop wasting my time and go back to your pathetic little life.”

That finally silenced her. For about three seconds.

”You don’t know?” she said. “You kidding me? He doesn’t know!”

And everyone on the other end broke down in hysterical laughter. Gloria contained hers just long enough to say,

”Come back to the Capitol, Haycock! See for yourself!”

And she slammed the phone in his ear.

He couldn’t stand another second in this place. Her things may be gone but he still felt Effie’s presence in every corner of the house. Like fumes slowly killing you.

He didn’t realize how much his hands trembled until he was back on the couch. He balled them into fists.

The nerve of that woman! “Come see for yourself.” The hell’s that supposed to mean?

He needed a drink. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and tipped the first bottle he found in to his mouth, again and again until he came up choking.

The liquor numbed his worries like they numbed everything else.

“You screwed her up good.” Yeah, that’s likely. He didn’t fancy himself being important enough to lose even a minute’s sleep over.

Maybe so. But you’re not the only bad thing that’s happened to her. Remember?

“She’s fine,” he told the empty room. “Just fine.” Probably thrived now that she didn’t have to deal with him anymore. That low-life Gloria Highgrass was just fucking with his head. She wanted to cause a spectacle, get some gossip material, that’s all.

If Effie was in any kind of need all she had to do was pick up the phone and call him.

Besides, wasn’t like she kept in touch to see how he was fairing. It was damn clear she didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. And if she didn’t care, why should he?

Yeah, he thought and reached for the next bottle. Let her deal with her own demons.

xXx

If Haymitch thought he was the only one up he was wrong. Katniss slept a deep slumber for once but all the creaks and groans coming from the floorboards downstairs finally wormed their way into Peeta’s dreams until he flinched awake.

The room burned with morning light. Peeta’s heart pounded in his chest but he remained still so as not to disturb Katniss while he listened to the sounds below.

It wasn’t the first time Haymitch “ghosted the halls”. Peeta remembered it especially well from their train rides together and back at the penthouse during the Games.

Sometimes it seemed like Haymitch just couldn’t stand to remain in the same place, locked inside his own head. And that’s when he stalked from room to room, aimlessly. Like a bear in a cage. Well, a bear with a bottle in its paw.

No, it wasn’t the first time but it was the first time in a while. And he used to go to bed with the sun so what was he still doing up?

At least with Haymitch on the couch, you knew where you had him. Finally Peeta carefully extracted himself from Katniss and slipped out of bed, just to check on him. That wouldn’t be a first either.

He reached the foot of the stairs just as Haymitch returned in to the living room, surprisingly sober. Sobered up. He sunk down on the couch, elbows on his knees. He never noticed Peeta. His eyes were squarely focused on something in his hands.

Peeta couldn’t tell what it was at first but then Haymitch shifted it over and the penny suddenly dropped.

It was a paper goose. The paper goose. He knew it well because it used to sit on the window sill back in his studio. Haymitch must have ventured inside and stumbled upon it by co-incidence.

Effie’s paper goose. Well, Haymitch’s really since she gave it to him.

Peeta remembered the day she made it. It was the summer Haymitch had brought her here after the over-dose.

She had one of her good days and joined them for breakfast in the studio. He painted, Katniss ate cheese buns, Haymitch doodled a horrible caricature of Effie and in exchange she made him this little origami creature.

A good day in an ocean of bad ones.

Shortly after, the night terrors sent her in a down-ward spiral again and just to keep her from clocking out Haymitch said he thought about getting some geese. What’d she think?

The idea probably originated from Chaff. Eleven’s victor loved everything made from the bird. Roast goose and buttered potatoes, corned goose hash, fried eggs with mushrooms.

Those were the dishes he ordered at the training centre before the third Quarter Quell and if memory didn’t deceive Peeta he even told Caesar Flickerman after he was crowned victor, that he liked to raise geese once he returned to District Eleven.

Now he never really got that idea off the table. Instead, Haymitch did. Well, sort of. None of his birds had ever wound up on a plate.

In any case, Peeta bet the whole ”let’s go to Eleven” adventure wasn’t motivated by some great desire to buy geese. That’s just what Haymitch had her believe. Because for whatever reason Effie lived up a little whenever she got to plan things. It gave her a sense of control.

It was slick how he played it. Made her think “This will be good for Haymitch” when really it was “good for Effie”. Something to keep her mind occupied. His own way to try and coax her out of her depression.

A hundred memories drenched up by one paper bird. That’s what Peeta witnessed this very moment. Haymitch could have crushed it easily. Just made a fist and tossed it on the fire. He tossed everything else that even vaguely reminded him of her.

He didn’t. The way he held it, you’d think it was one of his goslings and he had a look on his face that would not have been there, had he known someone was watching.

“Morning,” Katniss yawned as she walked in to the kitchen, hours later. Peeta stood by the stove, quietly pouring hot water through the tea leaves. She reached for the jug of orange juice to set it on the table. “Where’s Haymitch at? I didn’t see him.”

“On the train.”

Katniss stopped, eyebrows lifted.

“You sure?”

In answer, he pointed at the table and she discovered the note, jotted down on a scrap of paper.

I’m gonna go see Effie. Call her and tell her I’m coming, OK? Thanks.

“You talked to her? What’d she say? What?” she asked at the look on Peeta’s face.

“I tried, for about an hour,” he said. “I can’t get through. The phone’s disconnected.”

xXx

Gem of Panem Mighty city Through the ages, you shine anew

Intertwined with their laughter, the Capitol anthem echoed around the deserted city. Morning light stretched their shadows into four giants as they walked down the street, arm-in-arm. Their makeup was smeared, the flowers in their outfits drooping. All evidence of what a smash hit the night had been!

We humbly kneel To your ideal And pledge our love to you!

Coriana’s voice rose highest of them all, the only member in their quartet who could hit all the high notes, drunk or sober, but they all joined in just as merrily with the voice they had.

Gem of Panem Heart of justice Wisdom crowns your marble brow

It felt good, comforting, to chant the age old verses of their childhood. The real anthem of Panem. The politically correct atrocity Paylor whipped together didn’t hold a candle to it!

You give us light You reunite To you we make our vow

Tipsy to say the least, Priscilla wobbled dangerously in her sky-high heels but each time she careened to far to the left, they steered her right again with many giggles and “Oopsy-daisy!”

Gem of Panem Seat of power Strength in peacetime, shield in strife

“Oh, this is my favorite part!” warbled Imogen who couldn’t carry a tune with a gun to her head.

Protect our land With armored hand Our Capitol, our…

Lancer gasped, mid-through the final crescendo. Linked with the others he almost toppled them over at sudden halt.

“My gracious!” he said. “It’s Haymitch Abernathy!”

Up ahead, a man had just appeared round a corner. Ruffled clothes, hair hanging forward, everything about him completely out of place here. He paid them no attention but it was him, without a doubt. The drunken traitor of District 12.

“You heard about him and Effie Trinket, right?” Imogen asked in a loud whisper.

“Of course we heard,” said Coriana. “The whole town knows.”

“Ugh. Just look at him.” Priscilla wrinkled her nose. “At least on television he dressed decently. Disgusting!”

“She’s the one who’s disgusting,” Lancer said and pursed his lips. “He’s district. What did you expect? But a Capitolian really should know better.”

“I would jump off a cliff if it was me!”

“It could never be you, Imogen, the very thought!” said Coriana. “What’s he doing here again? Flaunting himself on our streets after what he did. What they did!”

If Haymitch heard them he didn’t show it and he didn’t change his course. When they remained shoulder to shoulder, gawking at him he sawed right through them like they were a flock of pigeons and they jumped apart with furious cries.

“You should be ashamed of yourself!” Priscilla shouted to his back. “I really think you should!”

Those four weren’t the only ones who questioned what Haymitch was doing in the Capitol. Had there been one positive consequence of him and Effie breaking up it was that he would never have to see this place again.

Well, the joke’s on him.

She’s not back on pills, he told himself as he kicked a squashed ice cream cup far up the street. She promised she wouldn’t go down that road again.

The train ride was hell on earth. Throughout the long hours he failed to quiet his mind, to shake off his worries over Glorias’s words and why he couldn’t get a call through to Effie. Just thinking about their impending reunion made him sick, until he finally caved in to the bottles in his duffel.

Ironically, the one thing that stopped him from drinking himself completely senseless was the paper goose, now hitching a ride in his pocket. It helped him focus.

Walking the deserted avenues, through glitter and serpentines left from some party only reminded him of the first time he came here unannounced.

Little Ms. Hypocrite. She was one to talk about having someone almost die in your arms.

But she’s not back on pills.

The brightness of the sun reflected in the candy buildings, the lush public gardens alive with bird song, the bounty flowerbeds, the gushing fountains. It was like the Capitol mocked him with its splendor. Days like this were Effie’s favourites.

And there her building was. He saw it over the roof tops, windows reflecting bits of the blue sky. With a grimace, Haymitch slowed his steps like he’d run out of gas. Fuck it. He needed a drink. One more or less, what did it matter? He wasn’t going to stay here long anyway.

He was still struggling to close the zipper as he entered her street, her curb. He pulled the straps over his shoulder, about to give the door a knock.

And he just stared. Dumb-founded, for half a minute or more. Gaped at her front door, like the gaggle of fools he passed earlier.

No, no this can’t be right, he thought, unable to take in what his eyes were telling him. It’s gotta be a mistake.

The name plate on Effie’s door was gone. The window shutters were all closed. He turned the handle. It wouldn’t budge. He rang the bell. He knocked, pounded rather. No one opened. The place was completely dead.

But it made no sense! Effie had lived in this apartment almost all her life!

He walked over to the windows, shielded his eyes from the sunlight as he tried to peer through the shutters for any movements inside.

“Eff?”

He returned to the door, raised his hand for another knock.

“She’s not here,” a voice rung out.

He turned at the sound. On the other side of the road, just across from him, stood an old lady. The same dry twig of a woman he’d seen twice before. At least twice.

“Mr. Abernathy,” she said. The sun glinted off the gem stones in her wrinkled cheeks. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line. “Didn’t think I would ever see you here again.”

He crossed the road.

“The hell’s going on here? Where’s Effie?”

The woman’s pale green eyes pierced his. She had to lift her chin to do it. Just like Sae she barely cleared his shoulders but that’s where the similarities ended. Because this woman’s eyes held none of her warmth or gaiety.

And yet, behind the frost he noticed that same sadness he’d seen there before. Only not for him.

“I warned her”, she said. “I told her from the very beginning not to get involved with someone like you. A man who would give her nothing but heartache. But she never heeded my advice. She didn’t want to listen.”

“Here’s an idea,” Haymitch cut her off. “How ‘bout you quit playing games with me and tell me what you know.”

“I blame myself,” the woman continued, unfazed by the interruption. “I insisted she applied for an escortship. If she became an architect like she first wanted, she wouldn’t be where she is now. Maybe none of us would.”

“Who are you?” Haymitch demanded. “What’s your name?”

“Mrs. Quinlan.”

Quinlan? He had definitely heard that name before. Nothing Games related, at least he didn’t think so. No, Effie had mentioned her at some point. Yeah, at the hospital, after her rescue. She asked if she was still alive. If she was safe.

Mrs. Q.

“You’re Eff’s landlady.”

The woman shook her head.

“Not anymore.”

“Because you kicked her out.”

“She’s beyond my help,” Mrs. Quinlan said. “Euphemia was a good girl, Mr. Abernathy. A good daughter. I have wept blood for her sake but I never gave up on her. Even after the war. She got one last chance to make amends. To build up a life for herself that she could be proud of. And she went and threw it all away the moment she decided to keep your young.”

Haymitch heard the words, loud and clear, but it was like he couldn’t absorb them. Make sense of what she just said.

It was like when he was little and broke his arm, falling down a tree. They all saw it was broken but it didn’t hurt. Not straight away. Like the shock was so great nothing registered.

“’Keep my young?’ he rasped. Heat rose up his throat and face until it burned. “What do you mean ‘keep my young’?”

For the first time, a flicker of surprise registered on Mrs. Quinlan’s face.

“Where is she?” He didn’t think his voice would carry at all. Instead it echoed around the buildings. “If not here, where’s she staying?”

“Go home, Mr Abernathy,” she said. “You have done enough damage as it is.”

“If you don’t want me to wake the entire neighborhood, you tell me where she is!”

Sleepy heads already poked out windows at the commotion. There were murmurs, curious looks thrown their way. Mrs. Quinlan’s lips pressed into the same tight line.

“She moved in with Caesar Flickerman’s daughter. I assume I don’t have to tell you which one.”

xXx

The bearded dragon slumped on her favorite spot in the vivarium - a gnarled old tree root and basked in the warm rays slanting through the windows.

When they first got her she fitted in your pocket. Now they had to use both hands to carry her properly. Sandy yellow and with a look on her face like “you’re all beneath me” you’d think she was the distant cousin of a certain District 12 cat but it was only an illusion.

“Hey, you,” June said and slipped a hand inside the enclosure, knuckles down, fingers outstretched in an inviting gesture. The reptile crawled down the root and over to her. June gave her a soft scratch under the spiky chin and the animal climbed up her palm.

Annabel sat by the secretary desk, her tea long cold and forgotten, but when June passed, she took the time petting their dragon before she returned to her letter. She eyed what she’d just written, critically and gave a deep sigh.

“They won’t even…”

“They will,” said June. She had settled on the couch with the dragon on her lap. The animal closed her eyes under the soft strokes.

It had been a quiet, docile morning with just the occasional car passing by and the gentle scratch of pen against paper.

“The crates should arrive today,” said June and reached for her own cup of tea.

Right on cue the bell rang.

“Speaking of the devil,” said Annabel. She set the pen down and slowly and painfully flexed her fingers.

It rang again, on her way through the hallway.

“Coming!” She pulled her hair back in a hasty pony tail. A shadow moved behind the frosted glass. She took the chain off the door.

And came face to face with the victor of District 12.

”Mr. Abernathy,” she said, eyebrows lifted. “I…”

He didn’t let her finish.

”Effie,” he said. His face was a deep red. “She here?”

“Bel?” June’s voice fluttered in from the living room.

“Is she here?” Haymitch repeated, the fury behind the words only barely contained. “Never mind that. I know she is.”

“She’s here, Mr. Abernathy,” said Annabel.

That’s all he needed. He pushed past her.

“Eff?” he called as he stalked into the living room. June had risen, face white as paper. The dragon’s tail flailed between her cupped hands at the sudden alarm.

Annabel had followed inside and he turned on her again.

“I know all about it,” he spat. She could smell the hard liquor fumes on him. June quickly set the reptile back in the safety of the vivarium. “I know she’s pregnant so don’t try and lie to me!”

“I’m not lying to you.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s resting.”

“Well, go and wake her up!”

“Mr. Abernathy,” she said, voice suddenly firm. “You will not shout in my house.”

“I don’t care! She thought she can just have my kid and never tell me? Who the hell does she think she is!? I wanna talk to her. Give her a piece of my mind!”

“Not until you’ve calmed down!”

“The hell with you! I’ll go find her myself.”

He turned for the door but she was right at his heel.

“Stop it!” June cried when Haymitch shoved Annabel’s hand off of him. The tea cup knocked over and crashed against the floor. The dragon ran frantically around in its cage. “Stop!”

“Get your fucking hands off me!”

“Haymitch, what are you doing!?”

Her cry made them all turn. Flushed and out of breath from the rush and alarm Effie stood in the doorway, a robe carelessly thrown over her nightdress. Her eyes locked on his, for the first time in months and the words choked in his throat. It was like the rest of the room and everyone in it just disappeared. Everyone but Effie.

And through the blood pounding in his head he could make only one coherent thought.

What have I done to her?

xXx

“I’ll be in the back if you need anything,” Annabel said as she swept up the last of the broken cup. A spitting mad June had already retreated to their bedroom, carrying the dragon with her and now Annabel went as well, leaving Haymitch and Effie to talk in private.

Not that Haymitch looked like he’d ever speak again. He hunkered in the armchair with his arms crossed over his chest. Effie sat on the couch but they could just as well be light years apart.

“Who told you?” she asked in a hushed voice.

”Does it matter?” He wasn’t yelling now. Wouldn’t even look at her. He seemed to have aged ten years in the past half hour.

“No,” said Effie. “No, I suppose not.”

She had a blanket draped over herself. Like that was going to hide anything.

“I thought you were on the pill?”

“I was.”

“Time and money you could’ve saved, clearly,” he said through gritted teeth. “And the whole Capitol knows I’m the father?”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “I wanted to tell you.”

“So why didn’t you? If you have my kid rolling around in your tummy I deserve to know about it, don’t you think?”

When she didn’t answer straight away his eyes darted to her face. And his insides contracted all over again as cold panic flooded his limbs.

“What, Eff?”

”It’s...” Her voice faltered. “We’re not...”

“We’re what?”

He saw his own anxiety mirrored in her eyes. She placed her hand against her stomach and his throat closed up. Because he knew the truth before she said it.

No! No, I don’t wanna hear it!

”It’s two,” she said. “Haymitch, I’m so sorry you had to find out this way. I didn’t…”

But Haymitch had already heaved himself to his feet. He wanted to throw up. He would throw up.

“I can’t do this.”

”Wait,” she said but he didn’t look at her. Couldn’t look at her and her big stomach.

”I need some air.”

xXx

“Good afternoon, Mathilda,” Mr. Bumble smiled when he crossed her door. His elegant, twirled up mustache was dyed a dusk pink today, the same color as the lap dog, freezing at his feet.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Bumble,” Mrs. Quinlan said, hoping he would pick up on the very inappropriate use of her first name.

He didn’t.

“I’d stay and chat,” he said, “but Helga is waiting for us.” And he gave his bouquet of blue roses a little wave. “It’s our anniversary, you know! 25 years!”

“How wonderful. Give her my best,” Mrs. Quinlan said mechanically as he trotted off down the street. If Helga was home or even remembered what day it was, she would eat up her hat.

She dropped the key in to her handbag and crossed the road, mindful of any ice patches hidden under the fresh snow.

The door was locked but that she only expected. So she slipped her hand into her handbag and got out different set of keys. Normally she took pride in not using them but the girl had sounded very off on the phone. Sad.

“Euphemia?” she said as she stepped inside. The flat was dark but she turned the lights on as she went. She knew her way around this apartment, almost as well as her own. “Euphemia, where are you?”

She heard noises from the master bedroom. Retches that led her straight for the adjoined bathroom.

Effie’s nightgown clung to her with sweat. Slumped down on her knees, she clutched the toilet seat as she threw up. Tears and perspiration rolled down her face from the ordeal.

She didn’t hear anyone come in. That way she never saw the complete and utter shock on Mrs. Quinlan’s face. But she quickly composed herself again.

“Euphemia.”

Effie looked up, startled.

“Oh”, she groaned. She was pale as a sheet, her eyes wet and red. “Mrs. Q, now’s… not a good time.”

And she disappeared inside the bowl again as the next wave rolled in.

Mrs. Quinlan didn’t say anything. She just pulled up a stool and seated herself. She gathered Effie’s hair with one hand and held it back from her face until the worst was over.

When Effie grew still, head heavy against her arms, just heaving breaths of both exhaustion and relief Mrs. Quinlan reached for a towel.

“Here,” she said and soaked it under the faucet. “Clean yourself.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Q,” Effie mumbled and dabbed her mouth with it. She felt Mrs. Quinlan’s eyes on her and tried to elude them by wiping the tears off her cheeks. “I am not quite myself today.”

“Euphemia.”

“Must be something I ate.”

“Euphemia, look at me, please.”

With an enormous effort, Effie lifted her head. She swallowed and swallowed. The color of her face had returned, from barely holding it together.

“Are you with child?”

Those words did it. It was like a dam broke. Effie buried her face against her babysitter’s lap and now they came. All those pent-up tears she hadn’t been able to shed since that awful day with Haymitch on the train station.

Mrs. Quinlan’s face was taut as a string.

”There now,” she murmured and stroked Effie’s hair. ”You will be alright. It’s going to be just fine.”

Effie soaked Mrs. Quinlan’s skirt with her sobs and it was like she was little again.

She’d been four or five and accidentally knocked over a vase. Everything in Mrs. Quinlan’s apartment was either ancient or valuable or both and little Effie stared in horror at the broken pierces. Finally she ran off and hid.

For the next half-hour Mrs. Quinlan had to go from room to room and from closet to closet, peer inside the cupboards and behind every thick curtain, calling her name. When she finally found her in the laundry basket Effie was so terror-struck she burst in to a wail of tears.

But Mrs. Q just scoped her up, pulled a dirty child sock off the side of her dress and carried her into the living room. With her skinny arms linked around Mrs. Q’s neck Effie sniveled and whimpered the entire time, her little body racked with sobs.

Mrs. Q. wrapped her in one of her own shawls that smelled of perfume and to the rhythm of the creaky old rocking chair, she hummed her to sleep with a Capitol lullaby.

She had never felt so safe.

“Why don’t you take a shower, Euphemia,” Mrs. Quinlan said once Effie’s sobs had subsided a little. She patted her hand between her own icy ones. “And then you and I will have a cup of nice, hot tea.”

“Oh, that is awfully sweet, mrs. Q, but I think I rather,” she started to object but Mrs. Quinlan only waved a finger in the air.

“It will do you some good,” she said. “Tea at my place, four o’clock.”

Effie had avoided Mrs. Quinlan’s flat for the past almost two years. She had spent a great deal of her childhood in the company of her landlady when mother and father couldn’t or wouldn’t take their daughter with them to one of their events.

But these days there was only one subject Mrs. Q wanted to discuss when they met and Effie found herself coming up with excuses. Because it didn’t matter how many times she tried to change the subject, Mrs. Q always steered the conversation back on the same sole topic.

Haymitch Abernathy.

Effie never talked about her and Haymitch’s relationship. Not with Mrs. Q or anyone else. But living just across the road, Mrs. Quinlan seemed to know everything anyway.

She didn’t approve. She never liked the gruff and unrefined victor of District 12 and nothing could change her mind.

She just didn’t understand. How could she? No one in the Capitol did.

“How far along are you?” she asked and poured them tea from the plump china pot. Effie tried to breathe through her nose. Just thinking about ingesting something made her queasy.

“Nine weeks.”

“Have you told him yet? Are you sure it’s his?”

“Mrs. Quinlan,” said Effie tiredly. “We’ve been through this. I’m sorry, but it’s private and really no one else’s business.”

“So, I take that as a yes,” she said mildly.

Exhausted, Effie’s eyes wandered longingly to the snow-specked window beyond Mrs. Q.

“He should have taken precautions,” the old woman said. “The situation he puts you in.”

”It wasn’t his fault,” said Effie. ”It just… happened.”

Mrs. Quinlan poured cream into her cup but Effie didn’t touch it. All she really wanted was to lie down.

There were cookies rounded up on the silvery cake stand. The frosting wasn’t like Peeta’s. Not nearly as nice but looking at them only reminded her of those lazy days in District 12 and Haymitch, teasing her for having such a sweet-tooth.

”Drink now,” said Mrs. Quinlan. “Add a little honey. Or would you rather I put some ginger in? It helps with the nausea.”

“No, it’s OK.”

Effie lifted the cup just to humor her. She was about to take a sip when the warm scent curled into her nose. A crease appeared between her eyebrows.

Mrs. Quinlan didn’t like surprises. Her routines had been virtually unchanged for the past decades. She washed her hands with the same kind of rose soap, combed her hair with the ivory comb that had survived two wars and she always drank jasmine tea.

This wasn’t jasmine tea. Effie should know. After all those tea parties at this very table, the flowery aroma was forever ingrained in her memory. She took another tentative sniff of the strange and unfamiliar fragrance.

It had a faint minty quality but not quite like the mint tea in District 12. She doubted she ever had it in the Capitol either. And yet the smell tugged at her, tried to tell her something.

Her eyes flitted to Mrs. Quinlan. The old woman stirred her own cup in slow, precise circles. The silver spoon rasped the bottom of the china. A cup she had yet to touch.

And a wave of dread flushed Effie’s face when the name surfaced.

”It’s pennyroyal.”

Mrs. Quinlan looked her in the eye. Her face was as hard and unyielding as the gems in her cheeks.

”You should never have let him into your bed.”

The beverage scalded Effie’s hands when she pushed back from the table. She stared at Mrs. Quinlan, eyes wide in terror.

”It’s for your own good, Euphemia. Nobody ever needs to know. It will be like it never happened.”

Effie didn’t stay to hear the rest. She fled the room, didn’t bother with her coat just bolted for the door. Her hands shook so badly she couldn’t work the locks and one terrible moment she thought herself trapped.

Footsteps approached or she imagined they did and a shriek escaped her lips. Then the door flew open and she staggered out into the sleet.

Blood pounded her ears as she locked her front door, fled into her bedroom and locked that door as well. She was shaking all over and slumped rather than sat down on the bed, hand clamped over her mouth.

I didn’t drink it. I never drank it.

Her vision was so blurred it took her three efforts to dial the right number. Her hand found her tummy and she tried to draw slow, deep breaths to calm the erratic beating of her heart.

”It’s OK,” she whispered to the unborn baby in her belly. ”It’s OK. You’re OK.”

So many signals just came and went, her hopes faltered with each one. Until,

“What?”

A sob slipped between her lips at the sound of his voice. She couldn’t help it. Her palm remained against her bump that wasn’t even a bump yet. Just a slight swelling beneath her dress. It made her feel stronger.

”Haymitch?” She fought to keep her voice steady. ”Haymitch, it’s me.”

“Ah, there she is,” he said with the nasty edge that sometimes crept into his voice when he drank, especially now under these circumstances. “Long time no princess. What can you want?”

“I’m sorry. I know I should have called you a long time ago.”

“Oh, I remember that voice. Effs Trinket needs a shoulder to cry on, huh? So she goes to good ol’ Haymitch. Course.” She heard him take a swig from a bottle. “It’s too bad mine’re all the way down here, then. Both of ‘em.”

“I can take the train.” Tears threatened to spill over her lashes but she held them back. Didn’t want to break down in to a blubbering mess. ”If I go now I ought to be…”

“Here in a day. Yeah. And I’m supposed to just welcome you with open arms?”

“Haymitch…”

“That’s my name.”

“I really must speak to you. It’s im…”

“What for?” he cut her off. “I’m a dead-end drunk, remember?”

“I’ve never called…”

“No, that’s right. Your words were much fancier.”

A wave of despair rose up within Effie. It was like a physical pain.

“I know you’re angry,” she said. ”This is not easy for me either but…”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Just fine. Can’t ruin a life that’s already ruined, right? I s’pose you want all your crap back? Yeah, the kids have it. They think you’re gonna come back, you know. ‘When hell freezes over’, am I right? But you know Peeta. I’ll just tell ‘em to send it over straight away so you never have to set your foot here ever again. Great, huh?”

“You left me, Haymitch!” Effie cried and her voice broke. “I didn’t want you to go! I didn’t want it to end!”

“Could’ve fooled me.” He twisted the top of another bottle. “And don’t you worry your pretty head, sweetheart. You’ll get over it. Trust me. Soon you’re gonna find some nice, wholesome guy who does exactly what he’s told. It’ll be all: ‘Yes, Euphemia. No, Euphemia. Whatever you say, Eu…’”

“Don’t call me that!” she cried at the sound of Mrs. Quinlan’s name for her. “Haymitch, please!” She didn’t care that she begged now, hand clutched against her stomach like she could somehow protect it that way. ”Mrs. Q, she… she tried to… I need you! If you care about me at all…”

“Oh, I cared about you,” Haymitch said. “A lot. More than a lot. Should’ve fucking known better. So why don’t you call Plutarch or Octavia or any other of your friends and just leave me alone. Cause I owe you nothing. Nothing at all.”

Tears rolled down Effie’s face and she abandoned all efforts to try and stop them.

“I’m so stupid.”

“Have a wonderful life, Eff. I’m sure you’re gonna be deliriously happy.”

And she was left with just the flat audio tone.

Author’s note: I don’t know who I feel the most sorry for. Haymitch or Effie. How about you? And hayffie twins are on the way!

What did you think of Mathilda Quinlan? I face claim Geraldine Chaplin for her, the way she looked when she played Aurora in “The Orphanage”.

#hayffie #everlark #haymitch x effie #taste of strawberries fanfic #thg #post-mockingjay #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #fanfiction #myfanfiction #district 12 #the capitol

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dgcatanisiri · 7 years ago

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One of the things I think gamers haven’t adapted to is the patch system as it exists now.

Look, I’m never going to go all onboard the ‘since they’re gonna patch things anyway, no need to hold companies to standards on these things’ or anything like that, but... We’re at a point where these games are massive. Where there are enough places for things to go wrong that they can be fixing things still at the moment of release.

And like... Maybe my view is just colored by the fact that I lived through the debacle that was KOTOR 2, where Lucasfilm pushed that game out the door ahead of schedule and refused to let Obsidian release the patch they wanted, and feel that publishers do deserve a little leeway on the bugs and glitches that make it through the final process.

Like, with Andromeda, people are still using footage from the release to condemn it, citing bugs and glitches - not the game breaking ones, just the animations, the “my face is tired” bit, which was changed after the fifth patch - as the reason it failed. And, okay, I concede that it’s the kind of word of mouth in the early days that can affect the game, but THEY DID FIX IT. Maybe not instantly, but they addressed it. They did something about it.

I will be irritated about bugs at launch, but actively trying to do something - anything - about them goes a long way with me, because I know I couldn’t replicate even a fraction of these games on my own, so these games are surely not easy to make. Things slipping through the cracks are pretty much expected. We may be used to more polish on the games, but, especially with publishers being more demanding of what and how much goes out and overall just demands that everything explicitly always meet the exact deadline no exceptions or extensions... Yeah, I’m willing to be more forgiving about bugs.

Not because I think they should be given a pass, but because games are a major investment. And, especially with publishers like EA embracing the lootbox gambling model, being less forgiving of anything that’s not constantly generating more money for them, yeah, I’m willing to forgive the developers saying ‘this works enough for now, we’ll patch the rest of it after release, let’s get it out the door.’

I’ll put the problems of Andromeda on corporate mismanagement, of a smaller studio being in over their heads, but honestly? This should have been reason to CELEBRATE BioWare Montreal - not only did this small studio manage to put out this game that, if judged purely on its own merits, not in comparison to the trilogy (because holding one game up against three is NEVER fair under any circumstances - even holding it up against just ME1 is hard because we know where those plot threads lead to, we can’t fully distance ourselves from that fact)... It’s really not that bad. It’s got issues, it’s got flaws, the fact that it’s a b-team sequel is kinda obvious all the same... But they DID THIS. Against all odds, this tiny studio got this accomplished while pretty much having to build all the things they genuinely needed for this game on their own - Frostbite wasn’t BUILT for an RPG, it was built for a FPS. Even the problems, they sat down and were making efforts to fix it - they didn’t get to everything, but a majority of the major issues were addressed, down to Jaal being opened up as a romance option, something that resulted in the actors being brought back into the studio, and this was released as a PATCH, not DLC, like the Extended Cut for ME3.

And their reward was unending blame piled on unending blame followed by dissolution.

We should be looking at this as an underdog story, the deck stacked against BioWare Montreal, given a project too big for them, the Edmonton studio not able to provide aid, EA demanding more focus pulled over to Anthem at Andromeda’s expense, working with tools they had to stop and take time to build, and they still managed to put out this game AND try to shore up where it stumbled. Instead, so many people want to approach it as the death knell of Mass Effect as a franchise, BioWare as a studio, possibly even story-driven single player RPGs as a whole...

It’s ridiculous. And frankly, I think in a few years time, people are going to realize it. Hell, if Anthem crashes and burns (which, given the Battlefront release, and the fact that the EU managed to make the Pokemon games take out their gaming corners after Gen IV - Pokemon, one of the most popular video game franchises EVER, a behemoth if there ever was one, and that franchise was made to blink at the EU - and they’re the ones putting through an investigation about loot boxes as gambling... It’s entirely a valid possibility), assuming BioWare isn’t folded up out of existence, I think it’s reasonable to assume that people will return to Andromeda and say ‘this wasn’t so bad.’

Which is just gonna piss off those of us who have been saying so since it released.

#dg rambles #dg rants #dg gets pissed

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fangirling-throughlife · 4 years ago

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This is so nice! I'm choosing Spain, cause it's the country where I grew up.

1. My favourite place is quite near to the place I grew up: la Ciutat de les Arts i les Ciències, in València. Funny thing, I saw it get built.

2. I love both. Even though I'm not fond of the importance of Madrid in Spanish politcs, I LOVE the city. But, I love traveling abroad as well.

3. It does! I see the sea from my rooftop, actually. We have the Mediterranean sea (the sea I know), the Cantabrian sea, and the Atlantic Ocean.

4. Arròs negre or black rice.

5. In Spanish, Sentado en el banco by Auryn, in Valencian Catalan, Digne de recordar by Tardor

6. I don't think I have one... I do hate one song called "Eviva España", but it's in Dutch and they try (and fail) to say "Y viva España" (which doesn't make sense AT ALL).

7. Again, in Valencian Catalan, which is the main language in my region... Mascletà, amollar, mante (this is the PG version)

8. I'm half Spanish half Belgian and apparently I have Asian-looking eyes. So, yeah, people get my nationality wrong more often than not. I've been called Polish, German, Russian, Romanian, Dutch...

9. I've been to France a bunch of times, never been to Portugal or Andorra. I want to visit both countries. Maybe Andorra a bit more cause it must be strange to be in a non-EU country in Europe where they speak the same language as me.

10. Hòstia puta. Match made in heaven. I say it an average of 20 times a day, to express everything from the deepest disgust till euphoria.

11. In Catalan: Vicent Andrés Estellés for poetry (Valencian), Jordi Sierra i Fabra for fiction (Catalan). In Spanish: right now, Miguel Hernández for poetry, Laura Gallego for fiction.

12. I avoid translations at all costs. I have watched a bit of the movie "La casa de los espíritus", and had to switch it off.

13. I thought we didn't, but apparently, we do. We're not as chill Catholics as I thought. We like to thank God and the Virgin Mary for random stuff. I've been asked if I'm a strict Catholic because I wear a cross necklace, and I have prints of my favorite saints in my wallet. And dreading Tuesday 13th, instead of Friday 13th.

14. I mostly do. Our dramas are a bit too much, though, but there's nothing better than a Spanish comedy. I've tried to explain it, but those are the true LOL movies.

15. Thousands. The cool thing about Spain is that we're a "state of nations", so a joke that's funny to us in Valencia is not funny at all in Extremadura, for example. Or a saying may make no sense to someone outside a certain region. For example, I say "me vaig pegar un pet com un llegó" a lot (I got wasted, but more than just wasted. We're like the Irish, we have a lot of ways of talking about alcohol). My friends, who live 35 km away, didn't get it at first.

16. Don't agree: we're lazy. We're just not in a hurry. It's hot there, you don't do physical work when it's 40 from May till September half the afternoon.

Agree: we're explosive. With this, I agree 100% when it's about the South. I've been told the people in the North are way chiller (my father-in-law is from the North and fits the description).

17. Love it! I aced every history test, I wanted to study history initially. I'll go dropping facts everywhere, I look for an explanation from 500 years ago for some shitty thing happening now, and usually find it.

18. Those of us who are bilingual speak Spanish with un "deje", which means that we pronounce some words a certain way, and we use words from our other language and make them sound Spanish because we don't know the actual word. I speak Valencian Catalan with an accent called "apitxat" (x, j, g, tx, tj, tg... those all sound the same. And whenever there is an s or ss, nevermind how it should be pronounced, it's the same for us).

19. Spanish: hate it because of some shitty political connotations. They use the flag and anthem to make it look like the rest of the nations don't matter.

Valencian: I cry every time I hear our anthem, I have a flag hanging in my bedroom. So year, love them.

20. Football, mainly. But any sport where we excel we love (basketball, tennis, F1, MotoGP...). My dad actually joked that we don't get along except when our football NT is involved.

21. If it's for aliens to find, I'd send una traca (explosives we use for every celebration) and sand from the Mediterranean seashores. If it's to get rid of, Franco's body and Miguel Bosé.

22. We have some of the best universities for sciences, in spite of the horrible financing for young scientists, we still have a lot of intellectual power. I'm ashamed of the fascists in some of the governments.

23. Differs depending on the region, but in Valencia (at least in the province Valencia) it's cassalla.

24. All of them...? Nah, we joke about Germans, Dutch and Brits, who are (in our eyes) drunk pricks with too much money who come to litter our cities and beaches. And, Valencians make fun of Catalans (very cheap), Madrileños (idiots), and Vascos (very hermetic people, bad temperament).

25. I don't think so. I feel like I am who I am because of where I come from, and I wouldn't want to change that. Even more, I'd like to be as chill as I see my non-mixed friends are.

26. I'm not sure... Women are portrayed as sexy and that's it, there's a lot of bull-fighting (when most of today's youth is against it). And I hate they portray us as people who speak no English at all (I, for instance, don't have any perceivable accent).

27. I don't have one, really. I'm proud of David Ferrer (tennist, who is actually my neighbor, even though I've never talked to him cause I'm so shy), Gerard Piqué, José Luis Morales, Pau Gasol...

28. All of the above. There are still so many places I haven't visited, so I don't dare to choose a favorite. Montanejos enchanted me, though.

29. MADRID. The thing is, we were the capital of the Republic, and now they pretend we ain't shit. They say we survive thanks to them coming for two months to litter the sea. They tell us we're rude for speaking our own language. There's a lot there, and it goes back to the 18th century.

30. I have a different nationality. Mum's Belgian, and so is my closest family from that side. Then, we've got Dutch, French and Italians (both sides).

“hi, I’m not from the US” ask set

given how Americanised this site is, it’s important to celebrate all our countries and nationalities - with all their quirks and vices and ridiculousness, and all that might seem strange to outsiders.

1. favourite place in your country?

2. do you prefer spending your holidays in your country or travel abroad?

3. does your country have access to sea?

4. favourite dish specific for your country?

5. favourite song in your native language?

6. most hated song in your native language?

7. three words from your native language that you like the most?

8. do you get confused with other nationalities? if so, which ones and by whom?

9. which of your neighbouring countries would you like to visit most/know best?

10. most enjoyable swear word in your native language?

11. favourite native writer/poet?

12. what do you think about English translations of your favourite native prose/poem?

13. does your country (or family) have any specific superstitions or traditions that might seem strange to outsiders?

14. do you enjoy your country’s cinema and/or TV?

15. a saying, joke, or hermetic meme that only people from your country will get?

16. which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with?

17. are you interested in your country’s history?

18. do you speak with a dialect of your native language?

19. do you like your country’s flag and/or emblem? what about the national anthem?

20. which sport is The Sport in your country?

21. if you could send two things from your country into space, what would they be?

22. what makes you proud about your country? what makes you ashamed?

23. which alcoholic beverage is the favoured one in your country?

24. what other nation is joked about most often in your country?

25. would you like to come from another place, be born in another country?

26. does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? what do you think about the portrayal?

27. favourite national celebrity?

28. does your country have a lot of lakes, mountains, rivers? do you have favourites?

29. does your region/city have a beef with another place in your country?

30. do you have people of different nationalities in your family?

#this made me happier than I imagined it would #spain #Valencia #Espanya #España #Comunitat Valenciana #La Ribera Baixa

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dustedmagazine · 7 years ago

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Joseph Burnett 2017 Review: Nostalgia for the Light

Back in days of yore (well, the 19th century), nostalgia was believed to be an illness so debilitating it could compromise the fate of an army were too many soldiers “infected.” One Russian general even threatened to bury his troops alive if they came down with nostalgia. It’s hard to imagine what the clearly charming general would make of our current times, so steeped are we in waves of competing nostalgia.

I’m one to talk, of course. The below list of albums shows that retrenchment into the past has at times been a great escape for me, musically, as 2017 quickly resolved itself into a right shitter of a year both personally and in the grander scheme of things. I’ve found myself actually nostalgic for the tiny, damp and claustrophobic apartment my ex and I used to rent because we were at least — in my mind — happy then. But that’s the thing about nostalgia: it doesn’t allow for a very nuanced image of what reality was. We certainly did have some good times in said bolthole, but surely the problems that swam into heartbreaking focus only a year or so later (and in a much nicer flat) were already there?

In politics — and this doesn’t get mentioned enough — nostalgia seems to have become a driving force. Trump vows to make America great again, without really elaborating on when it was that America was great in the first place. If one is to believe Roy Moore, it was that glorious period when slavery was a reality and you could still kill gays. But at least there was cholera and high levels of infant mortality to offset the troublesome fact that people were owned as goods and chattel. A similar vein of nostalgia has animated the Brexit debate on this side of the pond, as right-wing Brexiters hit out at “political correctness” and the European Court of Justice’s human rights laws along the road to the UK leaving the EU. Again, one can’t help but feel that the glorious past they pine for mainly revolved around being able to use ethnic slurs and homophobic insults on their way to a packed church on the edge of the village green armed with a blue passport. As with my domestic situation and Trump’s supporters, this nostalgia conveniently ignores unpalatable truths: the fifties right-wing nostalgics dream of actually included polio, rationing and the threat of nuclear annihilation. So it’s not really that different to today, except the polio bit. In that context, I’d say a bit of opprobrium directed towards racism, homophobia, transphobia and antisemitism represents progress.

So once again, as a wave of distorted nostalgia in part propels us towards an uncertain, even scary future, music has felt like a refuge. It’s becoming a tiresome leitmotiv, really. But the past is threaded through the below list, either as a nostalgic signpost or as a fictionalized unreality. Richard Dawson, on his superlative Peasant, reimagines medieval life in a series of epic, unfathomable and beautiful songs. The folk resurgence remains steady, despite the best attempts of lacklustre Mumford & Sons-like mainstream acts to dilute its potency. June Tabor’s Quercus released Nightfall, the most authentically “folk” album to have emerged in 2017, despite its jazz flourishes, with classic traditional songs echoing through the ages like ghosts. Similar phantasms crop up on Sarah Angliss’s Ealing Feeder to tell the hidden, murky story of London. Like the camera movements in John Sayles’ Lone Star, the past swirls around us listeners on these records, as well as on the crystalline chamber jazz of Tarkovsky Quartet’s Nuit Blanche whilst Elodie’s pair of superb instrumental albums are suffused with the nostalgic atmosphere of Proust. And there have been few more haunted albums of late than Áine O’Dwyer’s Gallarais.

Over on the dance floor, experimentation remains a vibrant way to concoct new sounds, with some of the most exciting producers around taking their already impressive music to new levels. Lee Gamble, Jlin, Actress, Laurel Halo, Shackleton, Arca: all released superb albums in 2017 that dragged the field of electronic music forwards, even those that looked into the past (the Ghost Box label continues to fascinate as it mines old TV music, computer game imagery and found sounds, with ToiToiToi’s Im Hag successfully reinventing the label’s perpetual motion wheel).

But in a world of Trump and rising right-wing populism, defiance has resonated most powerfully for me as an emotion. Irreversible Entanglements channeled the spirit of Max Roach’s Freedom Now Suite and Jeanne Lee’s majestic invective on Conspiracy to deliver a monumental invective against white privilege and the mistreatment of African Americans throughout time. Jlin’s Black Origami maintained the politically-charged, hyperactive energy of her debut Dark Energy and Mhysa contorted notions of gender and sexuality with an inventive form of r’n’b.

Even in such illustrious company, one voice seemed to soar out of the abyss most forcefully. A strain of disillusionment has always run through Gary Mundy’s work in Ramleh or other projects, but on his latest solo outing as Kleistwahr he has hit new heights of despondency and despair. Determined to champion his own outsider status, Mundy baptized his album —a wondrous swarm of haunted guitar and seething electronics — Music for Zeitgeist Fighters. It’s a beautiful cry of rejection as the zeitgeist becomes the plaything Trump and Spencer, Farage and Murdoch, a call to arms for all who abhor the views seeping into the mainstream to scream “not in my name!.”

The great Chilean documentary director Patricio Guzmán’s most celebrated film is called Nostalgia for the Light and it traces that country’s traumatic history through the prism of the Atacama desert being one of the best places on earth to observe the stars. In that context, nostalgia becomes a way to reconcile oneself with the past and, perhaps, start looking for new light in the future. Maybe all who oppose the rise of right-wing demagoguery, be they musicians, activists, politicians and even lowly journalists, can find ways to look backwards to build a better tomorrow. If the world is going to be swallowed by pernicious nostalgia, it must be fought with a hopeful variety of that Russian general’s bugbear in turn.

Kleistwahr — Music for Zeitgeist Fighters (Nashazphone)

Jlin — Black Origami (Planet Mu)

Nadah El Shazly — Ahwar (Nawa Recordings)

Richard Dawson — Peasant (Weird World)

Áine O’Dwyer — Gallarais (MIE Music)

Elodie — Vieux Silence (Ideologic Organ)

Actress — AZD (Ninja Tune)

Tarkovsky Quartet — Nuit Blanche (ECM)

Irreversible Entanglements — Irreversible Entanglements (International Anthem)

Laurel Halo — Dust (Hyperdub)

Shackleton & Vengeance Tenfold — Sferic Ghost Transmits (Honest Jon’s)

ToiToiToi — Im Hag (Ghost Box)

Forest Swords — Compassion (Ninja Tune)

Félicia Atkinson — Hand in Hand (Shelter Press)

Saz’iso — At Least Wave Your Handkerchief at Me: The Joys and Sorrows of Southern Albanian Song (Glitterbeat)

Colin Vallon — Danse (ECM)

Lee Gamble — Mnestic Pressure (Hyperdub)

Elodie — La Porte Ouverte (Faraway Press)

Skullflower — The Black Iron that Fell from the Sky, to Dwell Within (Bear It or Be It) (Nashazphone)

Pan Daijing — Lack (PAN)

Arca — Arca (XL)

Quercus — Nightfall (ECM)

Dopplereffekt — Cellular Automata (Leisure System)

Aaron Dilloway — The Gag File (Dais)

Yair Elazar Glotman & Mats Erlandson — Negative Chambers (Miasmah)

Maleem Mahmoud Ghania — Colours of the Night (Hive Mind Records)

The Necks — Unfold (Ideologic Organ)

The Belbury Circle — Outward Journeys (Ghost Box)

Sarah Angliss — Ealing Feeder (self released)

Mhysa — fantasii (Halcyon Veil)

Reissues

Tony Conrad — Ten Years Alive on the Infinite Plain (Superior Viaduct)

Anne Briggs — The Time Has Come (Earth

Lal & Mike Waterson — Bright Phoebus (Domino)

Henry Flynt — You Are My Everlovin’ (Superior Viaduct)

The Belbury Poly — The Owl’s Map (Ghost Box)

Battiato — Fetus (Superior Viaduct)

Akira Rabelais — Spellewauerynsherde (Boomkat Editions)

Luc Ferrari — Hétérozygote / Petite symphonie… (Recollections GRM)

Zos Kia/Coil — Transparent (Cold Spring)

Jon Gibson — Two Solo Pieces (Superior Viaduct)

#joseph burnett #yearend 2017 #dusted magazine #richard dawson #june tabor #sarah angliss #tarkovsky quartet #elodie #aine o'dwyer #kleistwahr #nadah el shazly #actress #irreversible entanglements #laurel halo

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deadcactuswalking · 5 years ago

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REVIEWING THE CHARTS 2020: 31/01

So, this is the first UK Top 40 after Brexit—we left the European Union the day of this chart’s release... and we’re clearly being punished for it already.

Top 10

Lewis Capaldi, Lewis, Lewis Capaldi. Somehow, due to a new music video, this bloody creature has got his second #1 with “Before You Go”, up four spaces to the top. This is France’s revenge, isn’t it? Sacrebleu.

Up two spaces however is “Blinding Lights” by the Weeknd, to the runner-up spot, which is never a bad thing.

At number-three, we have the slight one-spot drop for “The Box” by Roddy Ricch.

At number-four, unfortunately, there isn’t that big of a drop for “Godzilla” by Eminem featuring the late Juice WRLD, down three spaces from its #1 position last week. I guess sales are doing well enough to keep this at the top.

Down two spots is “Own It” by Stormzy featuring Ed Sheeran and Burna Boy at number-five.

At number-six, we have a slight one-space increase for “Don’t Start Now” by Dua Lipa.

“Life is Good” by Drake, then Future is down one position to number-seven.

Due to the Grammy’s performance, because, yes, they do affect the UK charts as well, probably because of 4Music’s pathetic coverage, as well as a long overdue video, “everything i wanted” by Billie Eilish is up three spaces back into the top 10 at number-eight.

“Someone You Loved” by Lewis Capaldi is up a spot to number-nine because of course it freaking is.

Finally, to round off the top 10, we’re seeing the end of the top 10 run for deteriorating TikTok meme “ROXANNE” by Arizona Zervas, down two to #10... just as it was starting to grow on me.

Climbers

Our singular climber this week is “bad guy” by Billie Eilish up six spots to #22. I’m as confused as you are.

Fallers

On the other hand, we have a handful of these due to a bigger story this week, probably the one that’ll occupy the most time of the three big chart stories here. So, outside of the top 10, “Ei8ht Mile” by DigDat featuring Aitch is down eight spaces to #17 off of the debut, “Ride It” by Regard featuring Jay Sean is also down eight to #29, “Circles” by Post Malone is down six to #31, and that’s not a lot, right? Well, no, but there are also the fallers from last week’s group of Eminem debuts, which unlike what happens with album bombs in the US, did not cause absolute chart chaos once dissipated, and instead just peacefully and rather slowly decreasing in chart points against the flood of the other album bomb. I’m of course talking about “Those Kinda Nights” featuring Ed Sheeran down 15 spaces to #27 and lead single “Darkness” crumbling down 20 spaces to #37.

Dropouts & Returning Entries

We have a couple dropouts here as well, but no returning entries. These are the songs that dropped off the face of the chart this week: “South of the Border” by Ed Sheeran featuring Camila Cabello and Cardi B out from #30, “Beautiful People” by Ed Sheeran featuring Khalid out from #32 (Not Sheeran’s greatest week), “Me & You Together Song” by the 1975 sadly out from #35 off of the debut – I thought this song would last, unlike “STILL DISAPPOINTED” by Stormzy out from #36, or even long-running hits like “HIGHEST IN THE ROOM” by Travis Scott and remixed by ROSALIA and Lil Baby out from #37, and finally, “Senorita” by Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello. Now, I figured I should mention some songs in the top 75 but not in the top 40 that we could see enter the chart in the coming weeks—I haven’t got a single one of these right yet (Well...), but regardless, here are the songs I picked. Not all of them are good, not all of them are bad. There is “Better Off Without You” by Becky Hill and Shift K3y at #42, “Suicidal” by YNW Melly at #44, “Say So” by Doja Cat at #45, “Power Over Me” by Dom Kennedy at #48, “Lonely” by Joel Corry at #61, “SUGAR” by BROCKHAMPTON at #62, “High Fashion” and “Ballin’”, both by Roddy Ricch and Mustard, at #63 and #64, “One Night” by MK at #66, and even the two new songs from M Huncho’s album that missed the Top 40: “Indulge” at #50 featuring D-Block Europe, and “Head Huncho” at #60 featuring Headie One... now for a bit of a different story that starts in the Summer of 1785.

BREXIT RUBBISH

German poet Friedrich Schiller published an ode in 1786 that he wrote the year prior. It was later interpolated by the legendary Ludwig van Beethoven in his 1984 Ninth Symphony. In 1972, quite ironically for a song composed by two Germans when Germany was still split into two (Although admittedly they were both born in western regions of Germany), Beethoven’s composition was adopted as the anthem for Europe as a whole, and the European Union. Does that sound familiar? In 2016, the most famous pig-adulterer in Britain commenced the Brexit vote, resulting in a slight majority to leave the EU. I don’t like getting too political on this show, so I won’t get into this in-depth, but all you need to know is that the Scottish party protested in Parliament in 2017 by singing this song, and that led to this two-party war: The Anti-Brexit and pro-EU song, “Ode to Joy”, the European anthem as performed by Dutchman André Rieu, and the pro-Brexit song, if you excuse my language, “17 Million Frick Offs”, a song by some right-wing comedian (Dominic Frisby) directed towards the 17 million people who proudly told the European Union, to, well, “frick off”, and praising them for doing so. Thankfully, the nation has spoken.

#30 – “Ode to Joy” – André Rieu and Johann Strauss Orchestra

Produced by André Rieu

Frisby’s song peaked at #43, meaning we only have to talk about the Dutch man here, and his first UK Top 40 hit, probably his only one. I would have preferred “Anarchy in the UK” personally, but I’ll accept this. I see how this works as a protest song too, as it’s a pretty triumphant composition, but really, I mean, what do you expect me to say about the European national (Continential?) anthem? Yeah, I think the Johann Strauss Orchestra guest verse kind of ruined the vibe for me on this one, but the beat slaps hard. I don’t like boring, patriotic squabble like this, and it’s not like Rieu does anything with it as this is rather trite, with some really gross mixing of the horns. In fact, the whole song is mixed pretty painfully. I appreciate the sentiment, though, guys, but this is pretty bad. Call me a Eurosceptic for not appreciating some Dutch dude’s rendition of a European historical motif, but really I’d say the same about “God Save the Queen” – and not the Sex Pistols song; that one’s awesome.

ALBUM BOMB: Big Conspiracy – J Hus

I haven’t listened to this album yet, simply because I haven’t had the time, but J Hus is a British rapper who released his first album since his release from prison, Big Conspiracy, on 24th January 2020, to immense critical acclaim and commercial success, debuting at #1 on the UK Albums Chart. These are the three biggest songs from it, and my thoughts on all of them.

#21 – “Repeat” – J Hus featuring Koffee

Produced by Jae5

Interestingly, all of these songs have features. Anyways, let’s get through these as quickly as possible, shall we? I mean, they will probably all sound the same. This was released the day before the album, and is J Hus’ tenth UK Top 10 hit, and Koffee’s first. Who is Koffee, you ask? She’s a Jamaican reggae artist who became the first woman to win the Best Reggae Album award at the most recent Grammy’s. I can see some of the reggae influence here as well, but it’s not actually that clear as it’s mostly a typical Afroswing song that J Hus would have made, with inorganic and pretty stiff drum patterns, and a non-existent atmosphere. Koffee puts way too much effort in, at least in comparison to Hus’ dire performance here, where he just literally mumbles somewhat off-beat for a couple bars and calls it a day, while Koffee is singing her heart out. It’s a really imbalanced ratio is what I’m saying. The strings towards the end are pretty cool but the final chorus is abrupt and overall, this song feels like a pointless meander for the sake of either filler or just landing Koffee a place on the album. I can’t hate it, because Koffee’s performance is great and the instrumental is tolerable, but for Hus, this is oddly flavourless.

#19 – “Big Conspiracy” – J Hus featuring iceé tgm

Produced by TSB

“Big Conspiracy” is the title track and the opening track on the album as well as J Hus’ 11th UK Top 40 hit, and Iceé tgm’s first – hell, she doesn’t even have a Wikipedia page and it’s seeming pretty likely that she debuted on J Hus’ album and she is in fact his sister. It’s pretty cool getting your family involved in the business. You know what else is pretty cool? This song; I like the guitar pick-up and the complimenting bassline, with some sweet vocal melodies and loops from iceé tgm, that seem to be scattered around the entire beat, which is an interesting idea. J Hus is still a tad lazier than usual here, with very little multi-tracking (Seems to be only one-take) or energy, but the chorus has some gorgeous harmonies, his rap verses are casual albeit memorable. I enjoy his (hopefully) sarcastic endorsement of Ronald Reagan in the first verse, and his point about underdogs rising in the second verse, which is a nice message. The bridge is pretty good, as it gives iceé tgm a bit of solo time, and she sounds decent but admittedly non-descript, and then there’s a smooth sax solo for seemingly no reason. Eh, I’m all for it. This is sweet, and it’s nice that an out-of-the-blue conscious rap song debuted in the top 20, but again, lacking a lot of the character I saw from the lead single.

#11 – “Play Play” – J Hus featuring Burna Boy

Produced by Jae5, Nana Rogues and Scribz Riley

Finally, also a pre-release single by about a day, is “Play Play”, J Hus’ 12th UK top 40 hit and Burna Boy’s fourth. We all know who Burna Boy is by now, although coincidentally Koffee happened to have covered Burna’s breakout hit “Ye” on the BBC Radio Live Lounge. I suppose that’s of note. I figured maybe the highest debuting single from the album would have that lively energy and bright comedy that I saw in “Must Be”, but no, there isn’t, which is exciting as that’s what I expected from this record, and the second single did try to confirm my suspicions. Much like “Repeat”, however, I feel this would easily be better if it were just a Burna Boy single, with his charming hook and cute steel-pans-based instrumental, but no, J Hus is here, and... did he forget how to rap? He sounds pretty awful here, with a dry flow that flubs rhymes and fits too many words into the meter, an uninteresting cadence and even awful mixing that makes him feel so distant from a song that should be warm and intimate. The reason I can’t dislike the song, however, is the concept, which both artists talk about in detail, especially Hus’ hilariously... bipolar verses, if that’s the best way to describe them. It seems to be about comparing women to guns, but also that women like him for his guns, and that he treats his gun like a woman? I don’t know, it’s a dumb concept that is messy in execution, but at least it’s unique. Pretty disappointed in these tracks, to be honest; maybe the deep cuts will be more to my fancy.

NEW ARRIVALS

#40 – “Roses” – Saint Jhn

Produced by F a l l e n and remixed by Imanbek

Hey, a song I actually predicted would reach the UK Top 40, just last week! I’m pretty impressed with myself, but admittedly I guess if you throw 70 stones at a bird, at least one will kill it, just as the old proverb says. Anyways, this is Saint Jhn’s first ever UK Top 40 hit and was mostly propelled by the Imanbek EDM remix, which I’ll be listening to as well. The original song “Roses” was released on the Guyanese-American rapper’s SoundCloud in July 2016 and was included in his 2018 compilation album. He had written for other artists like Jidenna before but his solo work went mostly unnoticed until a producer called Imanbek released an unauthorised house remix. Imanbek is a Kazakh producer, and his remix was released through a Russian record label, so there is a surprising amount of cultures involved in making this one song; it’s kind of interesting. Also, we never see anyone on the UK Top 40 chart from freaking Kazakhstan! That’s insane! By the way, Kazakhstan’s flag is my personal favourite flag of the world. I love the colour combination. The original song is one I’m generally not pleased with, personally, with a dull trap beat and hi-hats that somehow rattle too much, and a murmuring, unintelligible Auto-Tune drawl from Saint Jhn that’s just unpleasant, and for a song called “Roses”, is kind of eerie, and overall, the song is just kind of boring and underwhelming, although I’ll admit the vocal melodies and ideas are there, and I especially like the synths in the later parts of the chorus. What this needed to push it over the edge was a 19-year-old guy from Kazakhstan and I’m not joking; I love this house version. The pitch-shifted, almost chipmunk, rendition of the vocals could be obnoxious to some people but to me it adds so much energy and quirk to an otherwise dry performance from Jhn, and the beat in this version has such an infectious synth bass, despite otherwise being a pretty standard house beat, with some vague horn inflections, traditional pop-house drum beat, and pretty cliché vocal samples, but the melodies I liked are still here, in fact the trap beat is partially kept in during the chorus, and touches like that are pretty nice. The slog of the verses have a lot more groove to them sped-up too. Yeah, I enjoy this, and it’s a massive improvement over the original. Big up Kazakhstan.

#32 – “Pee Pee” – M Huncho

Produced by ADP

Honestly, if the form of protest against Brexit is only demonstrated into making songs chart, I’d like to think that the children all around Britain have all decided to make it clear that Brexit is pee pee, and I couldn’t be more proud. This is M Huncho’s third UK Top 40 hit and from his album Huncholini the 1st... this guy is a joke, right? He even wears a mask to be anonymous, but it’s not for personal or even gang-related reasons. It’s just a cartoon mask that he says is supposed to accentuate the message of the music. What’s the message of this song then, Mr. Huncholini?

When I bust my nut, I go and take a pee pee

Inspiring. I’m tempted to just leave it at that, actually – can I? Yeah? Are you sure? Okay, well, that’s all, then.

Conclusion

Honestly, “Pee Pee” isn’t even that bad, and it’s not getting the Dishonourable Mention. That’s going to “Play Play” by J Hus featuring Burna Boy, with Worst of the Week going to that crap rendition of “Ode to Joy”. I don’t have much to praise here, but I might as well give Best of the Week to “Roses” by Saint Jhn, purely for the Imanbek remix, as if it were the original only, it could easily get the Dishonourable Mention. Honourable Mention goes to “Big Conspiracy” by J Hus featuring iceé tgm, just barely. Follow me on Twitter @cactusinthebank, I’ll see you next week!

REVIEWING THE CHARTS 2020

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bites-kms · 5 years ago

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Once upon a time in Greece

Land of philosophers, birthplace of Western world, history can be breath in every corner you pass by. Athens, by excellence, is the center of this action and a compulsory stop while in Greece. Welcome to an epic journey to the past, you won’t regret it.

After 9 hours and 15 minutes, in a direct flight from JFK I arrived at the Eleftherios Venizelos International Airport. You can already feel the language challenge bursting by trying to pronounce its name, but nothing easier than to get to the city center with the metro pass by 10 euros. And we were staying meters, I mean, literally 37 steps away from the Acropolis. My friend Mau was waiting for me, and as crazy as it sounds, I guess we’ve seen more of each other during this year in NY, Macau, Hong Kong and now Greece than what we actually hanged out in Singapore - what a beautiful turn of events ♥!

Pomegranate and lemon trees, fake jazmin scent, tons of adventurous and cute, street cats as well as few tortoises, and chirping birds are the beautiful scenery that frames your strolls by Athens. But of course, the beauty highlights are found in the absolute exquisite merge between all of the above with the IV century columns, archeological sites and historic details embedded in every single house at sight.

It’s a great place to think - if you don’t believe me, then ask Aristotles, but jokes aside, each and every time that I sat down to eat by myself, the writer muse decided to join over for a drink or too, and she hardly ever missed the point. I actually told her “come, stay, make yourself comfortable and talk to me” as per Neil Gaiman’s recommendation. 9 double-sized notebook pages later, I think it worked.

We decided to have a powerful breakfast at Everest, a cute local chain with tons of flavor and delicious coffee and orange juice. Man, if there’s something that I truly miss about living in Asia and Europe is the facility and access one has to delicious organic freshly squeezed juices at an affordable price. They are sweet, tasty and thirst quenching perfect! And I must say, coffee in Greece was an absolute delight as well. Same as in Turkey, their beans are strong yet never burnt, with subtle flavor hints depending on your roast. They were, undoubtedly, a compulsory yet perfect way to start each morning.

We kicked it off towards Aristotle’s Lyceum. It was quite striking to witness, live and walk around the same inspiration field where major World Philosophers established the Western way of thought. Being Peripatetic for a while - or walking around while wondering about the meaning of things, was quite strange. I had a Philosophy professor that said “the art of wondering is where the questions matter more than the actual answers, and it serves as a sieve for our thoughts” and right there, at the Lyceum, walking around practicing the togetherness of body, mind and soul, with the Greek sun bathing our cheeks, there was absolutely no doubt that this is a magnificent way to create. Surrounding by olive trees and training arenas, contemplation was a must during our stay. We later walked back via the Zappeion or Convention Center, the Olympic Stadium, the National Garden and ended up visiting the Olympion or Zeus Temple, complex which contains the Roman Baths and our beloved Hadrian’s Arch.

It’s also impressive to acknowledge how long these stone pieces have been standing, and the crazy value they own for thousands of years until today. The same thing happens to me each time I go to a temple, monument or to a very iconic sight. Regardless of the culture or the place where it’s located, these “rocks” contain so much energy, people’s faith, wishes and wonder that is hard not to feel them and truly understand the symbolic attachment and meaning, transforming them into way more than just plain rocks.

Mau got this amazing tip: checking out the Guard Change on Sundays, when the officials wear their festivity outfits, so beautiful and traditional. Luckily for us, it was Sunday and it was almost 11 am. So it happened that our walk by the National Gardens suddenly became decorated by the Greek Anthem chords, and that was when we knew it was time to approach the Parliament. We found a perfect spot, in the middle of the street, where to witness all the Guard Change and its following parade with the National Marching Band.

After this dose of Greek nationalism, we decided to go where the action happens: Plaka & Monasteraki. These two are the neighborhoods that surround the Acropolis and where the majority of restaurants and stores are located. Highly touristy, yet beautiful, so it’s well worth to put your “I’m-a-traveler-not-a-tourist” pride inside your pocket, and wonder the streets of Plaka guilt free. The delicious Greek treats you find your way will confirm your decision.

We had a highly Greek traditional lunch by the ladder of the Acropolis, sigh-seeing all Athens at the Klepsydra Tavern. Our first (out of maaaany) delicious Greek Salad with feta cheese, cucumber, peppers, onions and tomatoes, some tzatziki, the delicious yogurt, cucumber, garlic and herbs dip and a spanakopita, the very best spinach pie.

We had to make a decision: tackling the Acropolis and the Parthenon on the very first day, or leave it for the first thing for the following morning. We decided to go with the second option, having the whole morning to explore and to avoid the crowds - which so far, we’ve been tackling like pros. Hence, we went on and explored Anafiotika, the picturesque and artistic tiny neighborhood full of hidden alley and old houses around Plaka, by the northerneast side of the Acropolis hill.

I loved this house: on the background, a window to the past, where the Parthenon with its Greek and West heritage lays. Inside, the secret and the intimacy of a Greek family, with family portraits, Orthodox crosses, a coffee set and an old TV. And on the same window that allows you a glimpse of this family lifestyle, you can see the reflection of the “outside”, of us, of where we were standing, of today’s Athens, today’s possibilities and tomorrow’s chances in Europe and in the World. I absolutely felt for it.

The good thing about this area, (not so much Monasteraki) is that no matter which or how many turns you take, you’ll always find your way back. It’s confusing at first, but later you’ll discover its actual pocket size, and start enjoying the joy of being lost, not depending on your map nor phone to figure out where you are (again, another philosophical question to occupy your -un-worried mind while strolling the streets of Athens).

I don’t know if you had noticed it, but let me call your attention to the sky on all the pictures featured above and on absolutely most of the pictures taken during this trip. There was not a single day where the sky wasn’t entirely blue and without clouds in Athens. It was gorgeous and quite stricken. It’s a Greek clear sky, what I like call the “Gods’ Exodus” - they left their Olympus comfort to wonder around the street of Greece among us mortals, leaving the sky completely clean. Homer already wrote about it on the Odyssey and highlighted a concept that I truly like: the terrenal god, of divine dust and magic that blends, interacts and lives between men. I believe this is the way religion should be lived, felt and practiced, since when the encounter with one another and with oneself happens, it reflects that divinity spark that is walking around, ingrained in us, no doubt about it.

After more food, learning the Greek traditional dance, having a drink in Athens’ oldest bar and a deserved night full of jet-lag yet some sleep, we woke up with one objective in mind: having a tet-a-tet encounter with the Acropolis. The Acropolis is the name of the ancient citadel and complex group of historic buildings and remains located on one of Athens highest points, hence its name. The most iconic one of all is the Parthenon, but there are a bunch of other meaningful and equally astonishing buildings around worth to check out. First, the Parthenon is the “newest” temple dedicated to Athena, patron of Athens. It’s the biggest structure on site that remains standing and constant efforts to preserve it are done by the Greek Government and EU institutions. It’s formed by 17 standing columns (weird number, I know) and a smaller and smaller complex done inside with less and less number of them. Right next to it, with incredible goddess-like or nymphs style columns, is the Old Temple of Athena. The Erechtheum is on its right, dedicated to Athena and Poseidon. Then, there’s the famous Temple of Athena Nike, the one that served as an inspiration for the legendary sports brand since Nike is the Victory Goddess in battle and in friendly and athletic encounters. It’s a smaller and secluded temple, yet it’s wonderful and inspiring. The halo of “just do it” spreads around the whole Acropolis complex and inspires its visitor to accomplish and to dare every single desire they have on their bucket lists During sunset, in my mind the only song that was playing in loop while watching the shape of the Acropolis fade to black was “All the things I’ve done” by The Killers, since it played on a Nike commercial a while ago, stating that “All you need is already inside (you)”. Cliche? Maybe. Yet, empowering as hell.

Continuing the exploration of the Acropolis, there’s the Dionysus Theater as well as the Odeon of Herodes Atticus. The first one is small and a little bit ruined down in comparison to the magnitude and the preservation of the second one. Yet, the first one has a deeper and more meaningful connection with me. I used to have a literature teacher that went nuts about Greek Mythology and while teaching us Homer songs, he displayed his beloved fandom towards the Ancient World. We learned about the dithyramb, an ancient Greek hymn and feast dedicated in honor of Dionysus, the God of wine and fertility (my favorite kind of god ;) - so, what happened here, was a kind of old-style, all-in semi orgy with divine purposes where poetry, performances, dances, songs and goat sacrifices were done. Imagine my enthusiasm while witnessing the place my professor was so passionate about, describing it with high-pitched voice, almost like a politician, with emphasis and devotion, as trying to gain the Gods’ approval and grace with his lectures. Those classes were amazing, almost as good as walking and sitting on that same place IRL where comedy and tragedy, with often divine offerings happened.

Many, many, and some more wines, cafe stops and dishes later, we needed to say goodbye to Athens, at least for now, in order to embark towards Santorini. Mau had left to the airport, and I had yet a night to go. I wasn’t going to bed, regardless of my early flight, at least not before enjoying my last night in Athens, where the sky was clear, the stars were shining and the streets of Plaka were bursting with delicious food and activities to mesmerize me one more time. What happened? I was walking searching for a nice rooftop to have a drink or two and I found Cine Paris - this al fresco cinema, where Joker was playing, right next to the Acropolis. It was a sign: few minutes after its starting time, I walked in, grabbed a blanket, a drink and a pizza - yet traditional popcorn was available. I just came from experiencing all the tragedy and comedy offered to the Gods, and now I had the opportunity to watch this contemporary masterpiece in which these two elements are being portrait exquisitely by Joaquin Phoenix. It felt I was at the orchestra section while Athena, Dionysus and Poseidon where watching it from the main box. Loved it. Taking the early train towards the airport the following morning, was also something God-worth it. October 15, 6:56 AM, with the moon setting on my left and the sun rising on my right, in between the Athens hills and the high tension cables, it felt like Apolo was driving his carriage, chasing the moon, bringing the sun.

So now you know it, when in doubt about Greek plans, or for that sake, with everything you are questioning yourself to do, buy, travel or say, go with Victory’s Goddess wisdom and just do it, Niké already foresees your success ahead.

#greece #athens #parthenon #acropolis #joker #drama #comedy #europe #travel #discovery #beauty #history #philosophy #greek #food

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warninggraphiccontent · 5 years ago

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25 October 2019

Have I got even more newsletters for you

A big thank you to the ever-excellent Giuseppe this week for a shout-out to Warning: Graphic Content in his 'in other news' newsletter. (And welcome to new readers from there as a result!)

It reminded me I never updated a previous list of the data-related newsletters I've signed up to, so in lieu in having time to pontificate on anything else this week, here is that list in full:

Giuseppe’s in other news

Sophie’s Fair Warning

The ODI’s The Week in Data

Azeem’s Exponential View

Elliot’s AI.Westminster

The Public Digital newsletter

Stefan's Strategic Reading

The Resolution Foundation's Top of the Charts

The Data Visualisation Society's Nightingale

The FFT Education Datalab's newsletter

For jobs, it has to be Jukesie

On Twitter, try David's feed of UK Gov Digital Blogs

Newsletters from:

Full Fact

Doteveryone

The ONS

Data & Society

The Alan Turing Institute

Centre for Public Impact

and The Institute for Government, of course.

I'm sure I've still forgotten loads, so please do get in touch with any other suggestions. And do forward Warning: Graphic Content on to anyone you think might enjoy it (email signup here, Twitter here, Tumblr here).

Finally, we've got a great line-up for our seventh Data Bites event on Wednesday, 6 November - join us! Previous ones available here.

Have a great weekend

Gavin

Today's links:

Graphic content

That was the week that was, part 94

The state of play, pre-Letwin (me for IfG)

Letwin amendment, etc (me for IfG)

Commons defeats and elections (me for IfG - some more here)

Withdrawal Agreement Bill Second Reading, Programme Motion (Ketaki for IfG)

Time taken on previous treaty-related legislation (Joe for IfG)

Government formation timelines (Aron for IfG)

Select committees (Marcus for IfG)

Boris Johnson’s bittersweet Brexit victory* (FT)

EU withdrawal deal: How did your MP vote on the Letwin amendment? (The Guardian)

British lawmakers switching sides (Reuters)

How members of parliament voted to delay Boris Johnson's Brexit deal* (Bloomberg)

Reading Boris Johnson’s mind: unique analysis reveals what the PM really thinks* (The Times)

How much of Johnson's 'great new deal' is actually new? (The Guardian)

Revealed: The digital divide between our politicians (Sky News)

Politics everywhere else

Canada Votes 2019 (CBC News)

Canadian Federal Election Cartogram 2019 (Wikipedia)

Canada Election Results: Trudeau Wins Re-Election—With a Minority* (Bloomberg)

Justin Trudeau is in trouble. Voters get to say how much* (Bloomberg)

Así se han movido las encuestas electorales tras lo sucedido en Cataluña (El Pais)

Why Aren’t More Democrats Endorsing Warren? (FiveThirtyEight, via Marcus)

The Historically Large Democratic Field Is Starting to Shrink* (New York Times)

How old are our prisons? (Russell Webster, via Graham)

So what’s new in #socialcare? (Graham for IfG)

The State of the State 2019-20 (Deloitte/Reform)

A Tale of Two Countries (Dan Olner)

Public bill procedure (UK Parliament)

How Britain became socially liberal in just 30 years (King's Policy Institute)

At your service: Investigating how UK businesses and institutions help corrupt individuals and regimes launder their money and reputations (Transparency International UK)

Sport

Rugby World Cup - Saturday quarter finals, Wales v France (me)

How Widespread Is Your College Football Fan Base? (FiveThirtyEight)

Everything else

Kantar Information is Beautiful Awards 2019

Higher taxes and refinery outages have pushed up gasoline prices in California* (Wall Street Journal)

ECB vows to hold rates at historic low until inflation picks up* (FT)

The Kim Foxx Effect: How Prosecutions Have Changed in Cook County (The Pudding)

Alcohol firms promote moderate drinking, but it would ruin them* (The Economist)

Data Comics

Unified Terminology (Critical Reflections on Visualization Authoring Systems)

Meta data

ONS

Achieving a lifelong ambition: A message from the new National Statistician (ONS)

How exactly does the Census work?* (New Statesman)

Understanding highest educational qualification: The case for using Administrative Data (ONS)

Google

Google claims 'quantum supremacy' for computer (BBC News)

Google gets green light to access five years of NHS patient data (New Scientist)

Google has used contract swaps to get bulk access terms to NHS patient data (TechCrunch)

GDS to reveal new “consider cloud first” policy in early 2020 (NS Tech)

Inside the messy collapse of the UK's unworkable porn block* (Wired)

Artificially enhanced? How policymakers are navigating the legal, ethical and technical challenges of AI (Civil Service World)

Ministerial correspondence... (IfG)

Everything else

Opinion: How Artists And Fans Stopped Facial Recognition From Invading Music Festivals (BuzzFeed)

Maybe It’s Not YouTube’s Algorithm That Radicalizes People* (Wired)

The What of Explainable AI (Element AI)

Public sector: the paper form consigned to history* (FT)

Just enough Internet: Why public service Internet should be a model of restraint (Doteveryone)

Audrey Tang for The New York Times: A Strong Democracy Is a Digital Democracy (The GovLab)

Policymakers need access to the metadata of trade agreements to facilitate international trade (ODI)

Events

Data Bites #7: Getting things done with data in government (Institute for Government)

Video: Power of Data 2019 (Swirrl)

EVENTS: #NationalDataStrategy team is testing having conversations about data & the 2030 we might want to be in with non data specialists (DCMS)

Jobs

JOB: Chief Technology Officer (NHSX)

JOB: Director of Regulatory Strategy (Domestic) (ICO)

JOB: Head of data and insight (Heritage Lottery Fund)

JOBS: Tech insights and agile working in the DaTA Unit (Competition and Markets Authority)

JOBS: Journalists (Full Fact)

And finally...

Maps

Map-based distraction nonsense (Alasdair Rae)

Map shows the first word of each European anthem (via Simon Kuestenmacher - though see the comments)

Food

Inexplicably redacted watermelons (Adiel Kaplan)

Time for some chocolate (Erik Brynjolfsson, via Tim)

Everything else

Now for the really important issue - When do the @RoyalMintUK have to start striking the October 31st special Brexit 50p in order to get 10 million promised in circulation by exit day? (Faisal Islam)

Wagileaks: an investigation* (Tortoise)

"Correlation is not causation" (Ameet Kini, via Aron)

John Bercow (Robert Colvile)

When was greatness thrust upon William Shakespeare?* (The Economist)

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timedecor · 7 years ago

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Everything Now by Arcade Fire (2017)

I think the marketing gimmick thing was brilliant, snarky, mean, and bloody clever. It was just so hard to keep up, especially with that ever changing infinite content playlist. Anyway, on to the album now... A year before this album's release, we got our first tease into the next Arcade Fire anthem when at a festival Win asked the crowd to sing along the tune we'd all end up hearing as Everything Now. I absolutely adore the title track - Everything Now. I just can't stop dancing to the Dancing Queen inspired keys on this song, it's just so catchy! Mr. Butler goes onto to willfully remind us that all the world's an infinite scam. That we're endlessly consuming beautifully packaged nothing day in and out. The album has a few bangers like Electric Blue and Creature Comfort that'll make you dance, well at least in the style that Arcade Fire songs do. Then there's this song called Chemistry which is the most ridiculous thing I've heard on an AF album. This is a band that takes not being serious very seriously - that's pretty much all what Chemistry is, and I love it! The album ends the way it begins, and the outro closes with same Everything Now tune on strings. I'm a sucker for a good album closure that reminds us where we started - the band's done this before on The Suburbs. (Viva La Vida, Sgt. Pepper's, and Be Here Now do this nicely as well)

Best track: We Don’t Deserve Love

Favorite track: I've mentioned my love for the title track above, but what I dig just as much is We Don't Deserve Love.

You don't want to talk You don't want to touch You don't even wanna watch TV If you can't see the forest for the trees Just burn it all down, and bring the ashes to me

This generation, self included, is growing up with everything we want ready to load from our app drawers. Funny how we're already the most depressed generation in recent memory. Distracted by 'infinite content' and paying for yoga just to pay attention. We don't need the thrill of big picture love anymore - the Instagram comments will crowdsource this nicely. Maybe we don't deserve love.

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Oh I must mention to those gorgeous album covers - especially the Hindi and Arabic variants. Really appreciate the nod to fans who aren’t in the US, UK, or EU. Although it’s too pricey to ship to India, but I must figure out how I’m getting one of these babies in my collection one day.

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thefanandthecritic · 8 years ago

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Top 10 Songs I Wish Were Talked About More - Part 2

And we’re back. Ready for round 2? If you missed part 1, it’s right below this on the blog, which is here. Otherwise, I hope that these picks take you on a bit of a journey, because they are much more serious than the previous ones. Which means that if you wanted light and fluffy stuff, then you will be disappointment itself once you’re through here.

With that said, the following songs need more exposure than they get, so I want to fix that. As much as an unknown on the internet can, anyway. If that makes you curious, then dive on in. You’re welcome, here.

5. Anathema - Lightning Song

This entry may as well be "Why don't more people talk about Anathema?" because this band is just great. I mean, I understand the lack of popularity in their early days, because they played doom metal, and that was about as fun as it sounded - no offence to doom metal fans. But you do know what I mean. Fun = popular, and doom metal is many things, but fun isn't one of them. These days, though, they make some damn good proggy, alternative rock and their last two albums - Weather Systems and Distant Satellites - are some of my favourite pieces of music in the last few years.

A pity that they swim outside of our SONAR, then, because Weather Systems boasts a really great song that could have made it to the radio. Well, I think so. "Lightning song" is not the most complex of Anathema's songs by far, but it is as listenable as the babble of a brook. It is driven by twinkling acoustic guitars and the angelic vocals of Lee Douglas, (who, for the record, could sing the constitution of the EU and still sound like the bride of Christ) which is a combination so harmonious and soothing that I think I just drooled a little. It then builds itself up gradually until the entire band enters the fray in an extended climax that has drummer - and brother to Lee - John Douglas pelting his crash cymbal in a such a way that it actually mimics the frantic flashing of lightning, adding an extra layer of synchronicity with its title and theme that few bands ever reach for. The lyrics also do their job, describing the brief moment of awe as one stands in a thunderstorm and absorbs its primal beauty. Rather rare and fresh subject matter for a song, really.

Maybe I'm over-selling this one. Maybe it isn't what I think it is. I can't help but feel, though, that this song is beautiful and something special. I hope you will agree.

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4. Collapse Under the Empire - A Riot of Emotion

Collapse Under the Empire is a German post rock band predominantly known for their complex composition and detailed layering of synths, so naturally, my favourite song of theirs is a straightforward rock track with the band's usual strengths downscaled.

It makes sense in my head, I swear.

This song, however, is a true beauty. "A Riot of Emotion" is exactly what it says on the tin. It's a song that stirs together joy, melancholy, exhilaration and serenity in a pot made of looped drums and soothing synths which, out of nowhere, explodes to life about halfway through, with the electric guitars roaring into the mix triumphantly and ending their run with a riff that - I kid you not - is what it would sound like if Blink 182 went pure post rock. Try it if you don’t believe me This song does not get enough attention. It needs more ears to appreciate it. End of story.

Why yes, I do like slow-build songs. How could you tell?

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3. God Is An Astronaut - Post Mortem

Now for the song that started this list. For those who don't know, God Is An Astronaut - yes, you are reading that name for real and no, you are not high - are a post rock band with an ear for generating intricacy from simplicity and crafting immaculate melodies, and it earns them a fiercely loyal fanbase.

GIAA's self-titled album upped the tempo from their usual schtick, however, and the first real moment that we really tasted this was the opening of "Post Mortem", a rolling, thunderous cacophony of toms and crash cymbals that kicks down into a tight and bright rhythm that has a groove that's so effortless that it's a challenge not to be swaying to its beat.

That's not the best part, however. The best part is that the song is almost written backwards in a way. As the song progresses, it slows itself down bit by bit, rather than building itself up like most songs do. This culminates in an eerie, but beautiful denoument in which the song fades out with nothing but a resonant, haunting bit of synth. Picture the musical equivalent of drifting off into space, and you'll have some idea of it. To get the most out of it, though, you'll want to listen to it with the perspective one of my good friends has of it: The song is about a life cycle, beginning with kicking, thrashing and screaming, and mellowing out over the course of its existence until, eventually, you go gentle into that good night, and rest forever. If that isn't beautiful, I don't know what is.

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2. Maybeshewill - Red Paper Lanterns

These top two entries are now officially my best foot forward in terms of my musical taste. Between this and number one, I could not possibly tell you which is my favourite song of all time, but I don’t have to. I just want you to hear these songs.

Red Paper Lanterns is a thing of immaculate beauty. Maybeshewill is one of the few rock bands which can use a piano correctly, and the way they do it in this song is nothing short of magnificent. This is pure concentrated melody and harmony, and it switches ably between huge, sweeping movements and the tiniest, most intimate of strains, delicate as cherry blossoms. If you would like to hear what being in love sounds like, then this probably gets close. Nothing else I know of captures the euphoria and warmth of being close to someone else. Nowhere else have I ever heard such gorgeously dainty sounds come out of a guitar. When the song gets huge, it gets MASSIVE. Not in a heavy way, but in the sense that the guitars start swirling and whirling around the piano, and the crash cymbal starts smashing itself in a visceral but expertly-controlled fashion. When this song climaxes, you stop. You listen.

Red Paper Lanterns is the best instrumental rock song you’ve never heard. It needs to reach all the ears ever, even if it's just so they can say that they personally aren't into it. If you listen to nothing else on this list, make it this one.

Or the next entry. Bugger me, I dunno.

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1. Jimmy Eat World - 23

1. Here I am, breaking the most cardinal of top 10 music list rules: One entry per artist. Do I feel bad? Nope. Not at all. That's it. That's all I wanted to say.

I said there were two entries from the same band on this list and I meant it. Jimmy Eat World deserve it, as far as I'm concerned. Futures is flat-out my favourite record ever, and the final song of the record is the song which competes constantly with Red Paper Lanterns for top of the pops in my library: "23".

It's an anthem about making mistakes and wasting opportunities that has come to define everything that makes this band so special to me. It is the band's un-toppable zenith. The ultimate closing track. Every second of its sweeping, melancholic 7 minutes is pretty much perfection to me. The lyrics about regret and coming to terms with your choices are sharp and bittersweet. Jim Adkins' ambling lead guitar is measured, but deceptively intricate. Tom Linton's rhythm guitar and backup vocals blend with the background strings and fill all the sonic spaces on the outer edges of the mix. Bassist Rick Burch does what he always does, picking the most appropriate way to complement what everyone else is doing, adding a resonance that you don't always pay attention to, but is noticeable by its absence every time. Then of course, there's Zach Lind, one of my top five favourite drummers, holding the rhythm of the song together in a way that's perfect for what the song needs. He's no slouch behind his kit, but he knows what many drummers don't - sometimes it's essential to step back and keep everyone else on pace.

When it all comes together, tied in a neat little bow by Adkins' affecting, whispy, exceptionally emotive vocals and the killer, slow-tempo guitar solo at the end, this song becomes a masterpiece. This is Jimmy Eat World's "Stairway to Heaven", their "Bohemian Rhapsody", their "Dark Side of the Moon". Sure, it may not even be in the same parking lot as those songs on a technical level, but it represents for this band what those songs represent for theirs: What they can do when they shrug off the creative restraints and unleash their hidden potential. Jimmy Eat World did that here, and it won't get any better than this for them.

Maybe this will be an underwhelming pick for you. Maybe I'm too attached, and this is only middle of the road. I'll concede that if I must, but I don't think I'm wrong in believing that this song is something special, and I believe it deserves top billing on this list because all anyone says when you bring up this band is how “great” “Bleed American” is, and approximately zero people ever acknowledge anything else in this band’s discography unless they are devoted fans. I want that to change, and that’s why I put this song on this list.

That’s why I put all of these songs here. Because even if the only person talking about them in the world is a pokey little music critic with a dozen followers, it’d still be one more than there was before.

I leave you with this song where it belongs: at the end. Have a great day.

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#thefanandthecritic #music #list #top 10 #rock #underappreciated #underrated #anathema #collapse under the empire #god is an astronaut #maybeshewill #jimmy eat world #part 2

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latenightbotanist · 8 years ago

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I have feelings about the ode to joy and im going to dump them on you

At the time i am writing this part i have suffered through twenty two (22) hours of “ode to joy” repeated in my brains so you are gonna suffer with me now. Srsly, ask @madgronkish i kinda lost it around noon.. Anyways. First thought when i heard it was literally" theyre not going to fucking reunite them to THAT SONG??!?!“ Whilst i was wrong about sherlock driving the car…they still did that. Thanks mofftiss.

Ok now down to business. First off, DISCLAIMER, i am in no way qualified to do this? I dont know much about music and have like half an experience at writing meta? so..sorry in advance, maybe just look at this as inspiration and well..gay feelings bc i have enough of those to go around rn.

I will also tag some lovely people who actually know how to do this whole meta thing, and who knows, maybe one of you actually reads this mess and makes somethin out of it? Possibly? Idk, i dont blame you if you dont, really. @quietlyprim @loudest-subtext-in-tv @joolabee @hudders-and-hiddles @love-in-mind-palace @teapotsubtext @beejohnlocked @kinklock @marcelock @gaytectives @ormondsacker @culverton

So.. for all of you who dont know, ode to joy (originally “freude, schöner götterfunken”) is part of beethoven’s 9th symphony, it is the first ever symphony to incorporate voices, the lyrics mostly come from schillers “Ode an die Freude” and the melody itself has been the european anthem since 1972 (1985 if you insist on EU).

Ok so lets have a quick look at the lyrics(and i really mean quick, these are my notes from this morning, not exactly coherent but enough to get a general idea of my feelings about this, we’ll get into more detail later) i also put both the english and german version bc i felt at some points things got lost in translation, but honestly i dont know what to do about that so yeah, if you speak german, good for you, if not and by the end if this youre not bored to death and still have questions dont hesitate to ask i will awkwardly but gladly try to elaborate (this applies not only to lyrics btw)

O Freunde, nicht diese Töne!

 Sondern laßt uns angenehmere anstimmen,

 und freudenvollere.

Oh friends, not these sounds! 

Let us instead strike up more pleasing

 and more joyful ones!

(Literally lets have happier stories, also the score.. yes lets get the johnlock theme back,please)

Freude! Freude! / Joy! Joy!

Freude, schöner Götterfunken 

Tochter aus Elysium, 

Wir betreten feuertrunken,

 Himmlische, dein Heiligtum!

 Deine Zauber binden wieder 

Was die Mode streng geteilt; 

Alle Menschen werden Brüder, 

Wo dein sanfter Flügel weilt.

/ Joy, beautiful spark of divinity,

 Daughter from Elysium,

 We enter, burning with fervour, (Cant set the heart on fire if its

 heavenly being, your sanctuary! already burning w/ love, yall) 

Your magic brings together

 what custom has sternly divided. (Gayyyy!!!!!)

 All men shall become brothers, (Secret brothers,reunion…) 

wherever your gentle wings hover.

(Idk, mrs hudson is an angel?)

Wem der große Wurf gelungen,

 Eines Freundes Freund zu sein;

 Wer ein holdes Weib errungen,

 Mische seinen Jubel ein!

 Ja, wer auch nur eine Seele

 Sein nennt auf dem Erdenrund

! Und wer’s nie gekonnt, der stehle

 Weinend sich aus diesem Bund!

Whoever has been lucky enough. (Luckiest man in the world,

 to become a friend to a friend, my only friend, … )

Whoever has found a beloved wife,

 let him join our songs of praise! (Uh….how bout no?) 

Yes, and anyone who can call one soul 

his own on this earth! (My john…..) 

Any who cannot,

let them slink away from this gathering in tears! (Mary crying,then disappearing)

Freude trinken alle Wesen

 An den Brüsten der Natur;

 Alle Guten, alle Bösen

 Folgen ihrer Rosenspur

. Küsse gab sie uns und Reben,

 Einen Freund, geprüft im Tod;*

(Like.. sherlock died and  came back for john what more proof??)

Wollust ward dem Wurm gegeben,

 Und der Cherub steht vor Gott.

Every creature drinks in joy

 at nature’s breast;

 Good and Bad alike

 follow her trail of roses. (Good and bad, rosie, hmmmm) 

She gives us kisses and wine,

 a true friend, even in death; (Or only in death?hey mary)

 Even the worm was given desire, (Mycroft? Nah,probs moriarty)

 and the cherub stands before God. (Sherlock, my lil cherub)

Froh, wie seine Sonnen fliegen

Durch des Himmels prächt'gen Plan,

(Plans…ominous)

 Laufet, Brüder, eure Bahn,

 Freudig, wie ein Held zum Siegen.

Gladly, just as His suns hurtle

 through the glorious universe,

 So you, brothers, should run your course, (the way it was always

 joyfully, like a conquering hero. meant to be…..)

Seid umschlungen, Millionen!

 Diesen Kuß der ganzen Welt! 

Brüder, über’m Sternenzelt 

Muß ein lieber Vater wohnen. 

Ihr stürzt nieder, Millionen? 

Ahnest du den Schöpfer, Welt?

 Such’ ihn über’m Sternenzelt!

 Über Sternen muß er wohnen.

Be embraced, you millions!

 This kiss is for the whole world! (,!!???? Like???????Yes pls) 

Brothers, above the canopy of stars 

must dwell a loving father. (Or two? Hey dads) 

Do you bow down before Him, you millions?

 Do you sense your Creator, o world? 

Seek Him above the canopy of stars! 

He must dwell beyond the stars.

Well that was……….. kinda gay. Yeah yeah i know its just a queer reading no i dont believe it was intended to be gay by either beethoven or schiller (or was it?? Irdk) but. in the context of the show. which is rather what were looking at. Pretty damn gay, right?

Ok lets have a look at my absolute favourite lines first:

Your magic brings together/what custom has sternly divided.

Well… i think we can all agree that society has, quite sternly indeed, divided holmes and watson, romantically. Homosexuality just simply wasnt a custom, or at least very frowned upon, mildly speaking. It is rather magical to watch this wrong being righted though, i should think. More specifically in bbc sherlock, the divide has come through a custom of not speaking to each other, and guess what?? Yeah hudders is friggin done with that bs these two are talking now!

And then…

Be embraced, you millions!/This kiss is for the whole world!

*shrieking* do i? Do i really need to talk about this? I think not. This just…. yeah. I mean really….. I would like to add at this point that, at least to my ears, embraced sounds like a rather tame option of translation. “Umschlungen”, to me personally conveys a certain vigour, almost as if the embrace might… idk.. come as a surprise to some extend? Take the air from some peoples lungs? Yeah dunno what that could be about……

If you still need more i guess i could just blubber some more about it all but tbh what is structure? so yeah, here we go, feel free to leave anytime i mean its already pretty gay and hurts my heart i wont blame you if you think

•WE ARE NOW ENTERING THE REALM OF JOY… yep thats happening things are getting happy, please, god, let them actually. And this joy that we will feel when John and Sherlock ( finally) get together will mend all the wrong thats been done to those two, and us Holmes fans, during all these years of being kept apart by society and norms and customs, homophobia and heteronormativity. Were entering a sanctuary, we are literally save here!

•General message of schiller’s ode to joy is literally that HUMAN CONNECTIONS ARE THE CROWN OF HUMAN EXPERIENCE like wow yes thank you it is as if human connections were the stuff that…completes you as a human being. Say what?

•Not only is this true for johnlock but also for our entire community, were bound together by the joy of this show, our joy will mend what heteronormativty destroyed, the joy of their kiss will unite us, we will embrace it and the joyfull gayness will embrace us!

•The fact that its literally such a groundbreaking piece of music. There have been symphonies over and over but this is new, this is different, he incorporated voices. Groundbreaking,earthshattering… u get it. Seriously if anyone who has even a slither of a clue about music wants to educate me on what the inclusion of voices could stand for please im begging enlighten me my brains too fried im already struggling to get this done(as you might be able to tell. I am so sorry)

And now, onto some more shit i stumbled upon in the original poem that, sadly, didnt make it into the song but:

•Have patience for a better world to come, god(mofftiss) is good and will give you what you deserve

•Forget hatred and revenge, forgive your (arch)enemy who shall not have to cry or be rueful (ahem mary. Also possibly mycroft to some extent who knows whats gonna happen)

•Bravery even in agony,help where innocence is weeping (hi john)

•Something about oaths and telling the truth to your friends as well as enemies and how lies will bring everything down……

•Narrowing the circle, making oaths with wine and staying faithful(keep believing!!)

•Salvation from tyranns, hope to the dying, mercy in council, forgiving of sins and ENDING HELL well ok then yes to all!

No honestly theres a lot and im horrifically underqualified and have a headache so i’ll stop now. If you actually read this whole mess of a thing.. thank you. Bless your soul. I’ll make you an origami elephant or something

#oh wow look #my first meta #contributing #sherlock #bbc sherlock #s4 #sherlock season 4 #sherlock s4 #tld #the lying detective #sherlock soundtrack #sherlock meta #ode to joy #meta #mine #textpost #my meta

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d2kvirus · 6 years ago

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Dickheads of the Month: July 2019

As it seems that there are people who say or do things that are remarkably dickheaded yet somehow people try to make excuses for them or pretend it never happened, here is a collection of some of the dickheaded actions we saw in the month of July 2019 to make sure that they are never forgotten.

To the surprise of nobody the first cabinet of Boris Johnson is a chamber of horrors, with pro-death penalty twerp Priti Patel being appointed Home Secretary, berk who didn’t appear to realise the UK was an island Dominic Raab as Foreign Secretary, the Grime reaper to all benefits claimants Esther McVey as Housing & Communities Secretary, leaker of sensitive information Gavin Williamson as Education Secretary, while Jacob Rees Mogg decided that correcting his underlings’ grammar was more important than anything else - and he also just so happens to have appointed the campaign director of the Leave campaign Dominic Cummings as his senior advisor, and by complete coincidence the data-mining ads started appearing on Facebook almost immediately after Cummings’ appointment

To the surprise of nobody, the second The Nigel Farage Ego Project MEPs set foot inside the EU Parliament they made complete twunts of themselves by turning their backs on a band playing Ode to Joy in “protest” of the EU anthem, which only served to give people reason to ask if they were going to protest by refusing their EU-funded salaries, while others were risking a Godwin’s Law violation by pointing out that A Certain German Political Party did the exact same thing at the Reichstag in 1926

Of course, on an individual level those same Faragist MEPs were capable of making twunts of themselves, be it David Bull howling about having to travel to Strasbourg to do the job he was elected to do while also complaining about having to catch four trains being an example of EU inefficiency…when his route involved two trains to get from Ipswich to King’s Cross for the Eurostar yet once in Paris he needed one change to get to Strasbourg yet apparently it was Strasbourg that was inaccessible and not Ipswich, while Ann Widdecombe dusted off the old Leaver tropes early by comparing the EU to slave owners while expecting to be taken seriously by anyone other than the most indoctrinated of Arron Banks’ cronies

A week or so later it was Robert Rowland taking his turn in the spotlight/sitting in the corner wearing a dunce cap saying that the UK should set up a 200 mile exclusion zone around the country and task the Royal Navy with sinking any EU-based fishing vessels, which manages to be a declaration of war, a tremendous waste of resources, and a painful inability to figure out that technically he;s advocating the Royal Navy sinking any riverboat in Paris or Amsterdam due to those cities being 200 miles from the UK

Of course don’t think I didn’t notice the Lib Dem MEPs walking around in their “Bollocks to Britait” t-shirts when they showed up, once again pretending the Lib Dems could in any way win a Parliamentary vote with their eight MPs while also hoping nobody asks what would happen if their new leader was a Hard Leaver

Milkshake enthusiast Tommy Robinson had a genius defence at the High Court: he didn’t know that him filming people entering court when there were reporting restrictions was a violation of his previous court order, even though a.) He said while livestreaming it he could get in trouble and b.) That means his defence was that he wasn’t listening when being sentenced in court the previous time he was arrested for doing the exact same thing

Arbiter of whether two legs are bad or better Tony Hall warned that the world is facing an assault on truth...the day after the BBC’s Panorama ran an episode about antisemitism in the Labour party where the evidence it provided was a heavily doctored e-mail from Seamus Milne and testimony from Louise Withers Green about an interview with Jackie Walker...that is ever so slightly tainted by the fact that Walker claims to have never met her - and a few days before an edition of Victoria Derbyshire featured David Collier’s loyal lieutenant Tracy Ann Oberman being allowed to give the usual bilge from Collier’s set without anyone to offer an opposing viewpoint nor any kind of challenge from Derbyshire herself

It would seem the selective amnesia of the years 2010-15 that blights most Lib Dem supporters has affected those behind the Amber Alert Twitter feed, judging by how they are so invested in spamming Twitter with accusations that a vote for Labour at a general election is a vote for Farage - somehow forgetting that a vote for the Liberal Democrats at the 2010 general election was an actual vote for the Tories as the Lib Dems ushered them into power, or that more recently the Lib Dems were caught forming a pact with Tory and UKIP councillors in Bolton to force out the incumbent Labour council

Then again, considering that the main actions Jo Swinson took upon being elected Lib Dem leader was to try and shut down all criticism of her voting record as “misogyny” and rapidly followed that with an outright lie stating that Jeremy Corbyn was on holiday for two weeks during the EU referendum period (and when admitting the lie she tried to turn it into another attack on Corbyn) she continued the Lib Dems’ bizarre determination to be the most untrustworthy party in Britain at a time where Boris Johnson and Nigel Farage are party leaders - but when questions about her voting record continued, she then claimed it was a “personal attack” to quote something that is freely available to the public

Swinson wasn’t the only one rewriting history, as Dominic Raab claimed he had warned people about the dangers of No Deal...apart from the fact there’s plentiful evidence of him doing the exact opposite for the past three years, or to put another way a myriad of reasons to call him a liar

According to Nick Timothy it's all the fault of those belligerent Irish who don’t know their place that the Irish backstop is a major issue for any No Deal Britait plans...and definitely not the Tory party, who he was writing policy for assuming they’d be compliant towards their English lords and masters so there was no reason to plan anything in advance, let alone consider the obvious issue itt would cause

Disney announcing Halle Bailey as Ariel for the pointless live action Little Mermaid film drew a response from the triggered little manbabies that bypassed predictable and went full-on cliche, because apparently only Caucasian redheads could ever play a mermaid…even though Hans Christian Andersen didn’t specify what colour her hair was, but apparently that’s not important right now

As if milkshake enthusiast Tommy Robinson hadn’t made himself look dunderheaded enough, he then had a complete irony bypass by pleading for asylum to the US while also claiming that he was maybe a couple of days away from being sentenced to death - or, to put it another way, after years of ranting about migrants and asylum seekers he wanted to run away from a country that doesn’t have the death penalty to one that does in order to avoid a prison sentence...which he can’t even run away to as he’s banned from entering the country due to being busted for trying to enter the country on a stolen passport

It says a lot that Geert Wilders not only swallowed Robinson’s version of events whole, but parroted his belief that the UK is becoming like North Korea...which is plentiful evidence that Wilders didn’t do the slightest bit of research before mouthing off

There’s a reason why nobody has ever accused Nigel Farage of understanding irony, and that reason became abundantly clear when his response to Ursula von der Leyen winning the vote to become President of the European Commission by 54% to 46% by saying it was no clear mandate...after three years of saying a 51.8% to 48.2% vote is a mandate that should be obeyed or be branded a traitor

On the subject of accusing people who don't agree with you of treason, Tory councillor Roger Patterson tweeted that Jeremy Corbyn should be executed for treason and that Corbyn’s supporters should be exterminated

This is not to be mistaken for Dan Hodges posting the usual “something something MOMENTUM ARE THE TRUE EXTREMISTS some thing something” drivel on Twitter

As if the visual of Boris Johnson brandishing a kipper during a speech didn’t make him look like he’d forgotten he is supposed to be a politician and not a Monty Python tribute act, the fact he was mouthing off about the packaging that the EU forces upon the poor unfortunate kipper-producers of the Isle of Man was ever so slightly undone by the fact that the Isle of man is not in the EU, so the packaging is forced upon them by the United Kingdom

Once again crawling out from a particularly dense rock was Priti Patel and her latest totalitarian message to keep the plebs in line, namely how the new government should prevent the general public from being able to take legal action against the government

According to Sarah Champion she voted against Theresa May’s Britait deal as it didn’t offer enough protections, but we should absolutely have No Deal because even though that has no protections whatsoever the UK has to leave the EU because of reasons and, when challenged, compared the whole situation to a game of poker. Sadly, not one word of what I just typed was embellished...

It was predictably depressing that the sexless edgelords of the internet responded to the murder of Bianca Devins and the subsequent posting of photos of her mutilated corpse to 4chan was to say that she deserved it and were content to concoct any reason they could think of to say this was the case, just as it was predictably depressing that the clout-chasing knobheads of the internet were posting the photos to show off that, yes, they can use screengrab...just like everybody else

In a similar vein, it surprised absolutely nobody that Tory tribalists responded to Boris Johnson dropping the investigation into Mark Field assaulting somebody with sentiments such as “she wasnt (sic) assaulted, she certainly deserved to be”

It apparently didn’t occur to Ian Austin that, if he wants to portray himself as somebody taking a stand against racism and extremism, there’s better papers to write columns for than The Sun...

It was obviously a slow month for Rachel Riley throwing accusations of antisemitism around like a burglar throws bricks through shop windows, as the best she could manage was comparing a brass band playing Hava Nagila at the Durham Miners Gala to somebody screening Black Panther at a Klan rally

Remember how Theresa May said she would support the LGBT community on her way out of office? Apparently she didn’t, given she didn’t bother to show up for the vote on allowing same-sex marriage in Northern Ireland

Congratulations to Jacob Rees Mogg for demonstrating the combined desperation and delusion of the Hard Leave mob by using England’s victory in the Cricket World Cup to say how it “proves” the UK will be better after Britait...while ignoring the team had an Australian coach, Irish captain, as well as players from South Afirca, New Zealand and Barbados, making him sound as clueless as David Vance did when making equally tone deaf comments about the Champions League final

Can somebody tell Lewis Goodall to let it go? His banging on about how Labour are the only British party not to have a female leader (which ignores the fact Harriet Harman was interim leader of the party in 2010 and 2015, which is worth mentioning as he cites Catherine Blaiklock’s time in charge of The Nigel Farage Ego Project as evidence of TNFEP having a female leader, but inevitably degenerated into the predictable “WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY WON’T THEY LET JESS PHILLIPS LEAD THE PARTY??????????????” whinge we’ve heard from the centrist echo chamber for too often for the past two years

Somebody at Glumberland thought the best way to announce their game Ooblets would be an Epic Games Store exclusive would be to do so with a blog that opened by being exceptionally condescending to anyone who would read it before considering maybe explaining the valid reasons why they made this choice...and then went back to sounding like it was written by a complete arsewit by saying that people should be more outraged by climate change or human rights abuses than their game deciding to be an Epic Games Store exclusive, which for some strange reason led to a teeny tiny amount of backlash against the developer...

Bloody hell, did Nike really not think that putting the Betsy Ross flag on their trainers might not be a good look? Because guess what? It wasn’t a good look

You would think it would be hard for G2A to make themselves look even worse by the widely-known issue that their service is regularly used by scammers to the point where indie game devs actively encourage people to pirate their games rather than buy keys from G2A’s storefront, yet G2A responded first with a bizarre statement where they attempted to clear their name by...saying something about Amazon, eBay and Google ads without actually stating there was any oversight or fraud prevention, and if that didn’t make them look inept enough they were also caught out trying to bribe journalists for favourable press coverage

Just when you think WWE fanboys couldn’t get more obnoxious in their insecurities about AEW, they start howling from the rooftops because they booked Sonny Kiss vs Peter Avalon on the pre-show for Fight for the Fallen because...I legitimately have no idea, since those same obnoxious fanboys were saying AEW needed members of the roster with character yet the second two of them were booked together on the pre-show it was like Hulk Hogan poking Kevin Nash in the chest in the main event of an episode of WCW Nitro all over again

As per usual Manchester United fans are quick to point accusing fingers when anyone fouls one of their players, in this case Moussa Sissoko trampling on Daniel James in a pre-season friendly...yet are even quicker to make excuses for when their own players commit nasty challenges, such as Andreas Pereira going for Harry Kane’s ankle with a studs-up challenge in the same game

Oh joy, it’s the annual return of the lunatic fringe of Spurs supporters and this time they have two hashtags, with PackPoch joining the usual LevyOut one - which in no way makes them look like entitled wankers who think that, as a transfer takes minutes in Football Manager, that is obviously how they happen in real life

So not only did Paddy Power plaster their logo across Huddersfield Town’s kit in an absolute monstrosity that made the club a laughing stock, but a few days later they admitted it was some kind of publicity stunt...which made the club a laughing stock for a second time

And finally, as per usual, we have Donald Trump and his belief that airports existed in the 18th century, which is somehow the fault of the teleprompter not working and not him being so dense that he couldn’t think for himself about airports not existing in the 18th century - although for some reason he isn’t telling his Slovenian-born wife to use one of those airports to go back where she came from, but he does say that about any US-born congresswoman who disagrees with him while also happening to not be white

#dickheads of the month

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