#meg watches enterprise

[redhatmeg]

Lieutenant Reed, what are you doing with demons and under Watcher Council's orders?

Is this part of your Section 31 training?

Edit:

What is the Federation's stance on vampires joining Starfleet?

[kylekozmikdeluxo]

When a Weird Dream from 2004 Links Two Disparate Things...

Around July of 2004, I had this strange-ass dream that has kinda stuck with me...

I was going to turn 12 in a few months. It started with my parents somehow leaving me behind in a grocery store after it closed. For some reason, Meg Griffin from FAMILY GUY was there, as was... I think her name was "Fanny"? from CODENAME: KIDS NEXT DOOR. I forget what number... Erm, NUMBUH... she was, but she was the bossy redhead with that shrill voice. (Not googling, because it's fun to write this as I'm remembering it.) They were both there for some reason, as dreams often tend to do. Throw in something or someone totally unrelated to the situation... Like that time I had that dream where I was at a casino, Metallica was having a concert, and Dr. Fauci of all people was someone I bumped into there.

Then I was going through books in one section, and happened upon...

A THOMAS THE TANK ENGINE picture book. As in a book made a little after the show came out in the U.S., the illustrations were painted and hand-drawn, but were show-accurate with all the right details. Like, for anyone who happens to be reading this who hasn't seen anything from the series prior to 2010... For the longest time, THOMAS THE TANK ENGINE was made using remote-control model trains on immaculately-crafted real-life sets... And some picture books replicated that quite well. This book from the dream was kinda similar to the '90s picture books from Random House/Please Read to Me.

Now, THOMAS THE TANK ENGINE was a hyperfixation of mine when I was a kid. Like, one of my prime special interests from age 6 to around 8-ish, then I dropped it for a bit, likely thinking it was all "babyish" or whatever for a third/fourth grader to be watching. Then around 5th grade, at age 10, I slipped back into it for some reason. Might've been because the new season dropped at the time (2002), and new characters came about, and back then, I was still like "Yeah, I like Thomas." It was the first new season of the show since 1998, and the only new Thomas stuff we got between both of those seasons was the especially weird theatrical movie THOMAS AND THE MAGIC RAILROAD. And that revisiting of THOMAS was a rather short one, and then by age 10 1/2 I was past it once more... But it continued to linger in subtle ways, because deep down I knew that show actually kinda freakin' ruled.

So now it's mid-2004, it's been about a year and a half since I actually watched a Thomas episode or looked at anything pertaining to that whole franchise spawned by Reverend Wilbert Awdry's legendary book series. I'm trapped in a supermarket that has closed, yet many lights are still on, but it's like mood-lighting almost. Soothing and kinda reassuring. And two cartoon characters from two shows I was watching *a lot* back in the day were there. FAMILY GUY was being re-run on [adult swim] and TBS at the time, after FOX had cancelled the show. These re-runs from 2003-04 were what brought the show a whole new fanbase, which in turn helped get FOX to renew the show for a fourth season that debuted in May 2005, and then it was unstoppable since then. I can kinda proudly say that I was at the forefront of FAMILY GUY's revival, I watched it almost every night, because it was edgy and cool for 10-12 year old me to put on after everyone was asleep. And as for CODENAME: KIDS NEXT DOOR? I watched it constantly, among many other shows being aired on Cartoon Network at the time. Cartoon Network practically raised me, so- I can only imagine why Meg and Fanny, of all characters, were there in the dream.

I come upon this illustrated picture book based on the THOMAS THE TANK ENGINE television series, and it gets my eye because... It features Thomas on the cover with a character that *never* appeared in the TV series proper. The character was known as "Diesel D199", a nameless bully diesel who showed up in the 1968 book ENTERPRISING ENGINES, and only appears in one of its four stories.

That story, 'Super Rescue', was never adapted into an episode of THOMAS THE TANK ENGINE... But I knew the character because toys of him existed, and he was unusual in that he had a yellow face while all the other characters on the show had grayish-white faces. This is likely because a lot of the diesel characters in the original book series didn't have gray-white faces, like the steam engines largely did. Characters like Daisy, BoCo, and the green bully diesel from 'Bowled Out' had gray-white faces in the show, but not in the books. Since Diesel D199 didn't show up in the series, the companies making the merchandise just used his yellow book illustration face. As a kid, who was only familiar with the show and not the books, that had always puzzled me.

The book cover depicted him and Thomas going up Gordon's Hill, smiling at each other. I was unaware that he was an antagonist in the books, as the merchandise usually depicted him with a friendly smiling face. The title of the book was "Diesel Do It Again", maybe this was so because my brain was recalling the Season 3 episode "Diesel DOES It Again" - featuring the character simply named "Diesel", an episode largely set on the seaside.

Which brings me to the next thing I want to talk about...

The Beach Boys.

One of my all-time favorite musical groups. I had known of this group since I was a small kid, because my mother owned the 1995 greatest hits compilation 20 GOOD VIBRATIONS, so I know a few of their iconic hits. Then, while spending days and nights at a beach house that my dad would rent at the time, I had my brain chemistry altered... When my dad bought a 30-song compilation called SOUNDS OF SUMMER: THE VERY BEST OF THE BEACH BOYS... That compilation opened with 'California Girls', and my mind was *blown*...

The collection contained several hits from their fruitful early period, all the hit songs off of PET SOUNDS, and a scattered mess of tracks from 1967-1969 and 1976-1988, and none of it in chronological order. It was a lot of weird whiplash between eras, styles, and moods, for sure. And often, on car trips, we'd only make it to about the 15th track or so. Usually it would end at 'Wouldn't It Be Nice', maybe the opening bars of 'Getcha Back'. (Which is a very weird song to transition into, coming off of PET SOUNDS' haunting opening track, but I digress.)

This music made me FEEL. And it's no surprise, Brian Wilson is a goddamn genius, but yes, even at age 11 1/2... I was like, really moved by how many of these songs were crafted and arranged. It was musical education right there. Years later, I deep-dived into their history and yeah, it too is a special interest of mine.

What the hell does this have to do with THOMAS THE TANK ENGINE?

Nothing, really... Except, for in my head.

I was staying at that beach house in mid-2004, and I was addicted to that CD at the time, and I had also dug out my mom's Beach Boys CD as well. So, my rotation in mid-2004 was largely that Beach Boys CD, Cartoon Network, some of my XBOX games (such as TEST DRIVE: OVERDRIVE and DISNEY'S EXTREME SKATE ADVENTURE), and... COMIC STRIPS.

I was really, really, *really* into comic strips back then, namely a strip called GET FUZZY by Darby Conley.

A hapless man with not much of a love life, his naive dog, and his rather mean cat... Sound familiar? Surprisingly, there was a lot to it that differentiated it from GARFIELD. I was literally *in love* with this comic back then, and I still love it, actually. It dawned on me many years, but it's autistic AF... and I'll likely elaborate on that some other time, maybe on here!

Anyways, comics... I opened the Thomas book in the dream, and it was half usual Thomas illustrations you'd often see in the picture books, *and* it was... Black and white comic strips with the characters and all these random human side-characters who looked like they could've come right out of something like SALLY FORTH or BEETLE BAILEY... Sort-of existing and being up to random things that didn't have much to do with the trains, but it was part of it all. Very odd in a way. And I was like "Wait-a-minute, Thomas was also a comic?"

Not much happened in the dream beyond that, and it went kind of quick, I recall Meg remarking "Oh yeah, I read/watched that when I was a kid!" (Meg is 16 in the first season of FAMILY GUY, meaning she was likely born in 1983-ish, so maybe she theoretically would've caught the show - as part of SHINING TIME STATION - when it first came out in the U.S. in 1989. But I'm getting way too ahead of myself here.) Other random stuff, the kind that usually happening in dreams, etc. It would go very off-topic, so I'll cap it there.

So, my mind was like... Hmmmm... This old show about talking trains and talking cars, and The Beach Boys did a lot of car songs...

But... Why was my autistic brain making this specific connection that likely was not there?

My guesses...

A) THOMAS THE TANK ENGINE had a lot of seaside episodes, either set at a harbor, or on a beach. Bright skies, water, seagull sound effects, etc. The whole book series and show is set on the **Island** of Sodor.

B) I had went to car shows a lot as a kid, and heard a lot of those Beach Boys, and many similar-sounding surf/hot rod songs.

C) I went to beaches *a lot* as a kid with my father. He also had a raft, and we'd fish or crab a lot, too.

D) A lot of the iconic RAILWAY SERIES stories, which the THOMAS THE TANK ENGINE TV series is based on, were written in the 1950s and 1960s. I didn't know this at the time, I only knew that the show came out sometime around the mid-1980s. The copyright dates on the American VHS releases of the show were kinda wonky and sometimes inaccurate. When I discovered the books for the first time, I was particularly struck by the illustrations done by John T. Kenney (1957-1962) and Peter & Gunvor Edwards (1963-1972)...

Like, I'm immediately reminded of all the retro 50s/60s stuff I saw quite often as a kid, *again*, at car shows and relatives' houses and such. Old toys, etc. I might've been born in the early '90s, but your relatives and people you know hang onto stuff from decades prior. I grew up around a lot of "old" stuff, old architecture and decor and such. My dad's former house, for example, had those '70s wood paneled walls and mustard yellow countertops. A green toilet, of all things. Lots of vintage crockery and such.

Perhaps that aural world that Brian, his brothers, and company created with their music in the 1960s and 1970s makes me think of Sodor in a way, a sort of quaint island community from decades back, albeit far across the Atlantic. It's worth noting that when The Beach Boys' popularity sunk in the U.S. in the late 1960s and they had an image problem, they remained ever-popular in the UK and most of Europe.

But yeah, one weird dream in 2004 linked the two things... And I guess I'm not alone, because someone made a mashup of Toby's theme from the TV series and 'California Girls'... and they go together very, very well...

Dreams are the brain's YTPs... and sometimes they make a real impression on you...

[malkaleh]

Ooh, Treat with Star Trek? Does your Tudor AU count as a fandom? bc I'm charmed with the idea of how that might work <3

It’s a beautiful home - one that he wishes he could see more often or perhaps, take with him. But not all ships are the Enterprise - the USS Whitehall might be Constitution Class but it’s work means that having families aboard is not an option and while Henry loves his job, believes completely in his duty to the Federation, to Starfleet he will always love the moment when he is simply home.

(“You could come and work for Catalina” Arthur had said, but Henry knows that isn’t him - he’s confident he’d be good at it but it would kill him to not be able to be on the ground).

Usually the entire household is lined up to greet him but todays homecoming is a surprise - early leave after a debrief in San Francisco and he’d caught a transporter home to London as soon as he could so he finds his family in the pool behind the house - Tommy and Bess and George are diving - holographic mermaids and sea characters playing around them, Meg and Liam are competing to see who can somersault over the waterfall into the pool from the highest point, while Owen is floating and reading - Thomas has Ned in the baby pool and Anne is holding Pippa in the shallows.

She’s the first one to notice him and it’s delightful to watch her smile light up as he bends down for a kiss and pulls Thomas in as well.

“Are the other children going to notice I’m here….”

His dress uniform is soaked through by eight small excited bodies and Henry, Henry has never been happier. He has his loves by his side , he has his home again.

the meme

[montmartre-parapluie]

18th Century Haircare: Just for Cursed Spaniards Edition

A little Christmas something for @intricatecaprice , (because thanks to her and her very well-researched beautifully written fanfic I am now trash for undead Spanish Naval officers, thank you very much )Just something I noticed whilst watching POTC 5 and couldn’t help noticing, as someone who also lurks in the 18th century costuming and re-enactment world.

Half the undead officers STILL have their wigs kept in almost pristine condition! What dedication to being stylish!

Now, hairstyling, even when alive, uncursed, and with full access to a range of hair products, is NOT a simple process in the 1700s. Those neat sausage curls you see at the side of Lieutenant Lesaro’s temples there? They’re called buckle rolls, and in an age where Babyliss hair tongs and Diamond Hold L’Oreal hair spray aren’t an option... well, what’s an average 18th century hombre to do?

Before plastic rollers, there were pipe-clay rollers - cheap, easy to make/get hold of and if it breaks, you throw it away. These were used mainly through the 17th , 18th and up to the early 19th century. You can see these particular pipe clay rollers are from 1700.

Behold! Ye olde hair styling implements of yore! An ancient pair of hair tongs! Before the advent of electricity, this required holding the tongs in an open fire until it was sufficiently hot to style. Get it right, and you get beautiful heat rolled curls like those on Lieutenant Lesaro. Get it wrong and make the tongs too hot... and ... you guys remember Little Women, when Jo burns off Meg’s hair?

Catching pirates or not burning off your hair... which is harder?

But Monty, I hear you cry - what are these enterprising 18th century men using as a setting lotion? Well, my dears, the answer is pomatum.

I’m going to send you to the excellent Geri Walton for a full historical low-down on pomatum below, but it’s basically a hair cream /oil that strengthens and thickens the hair as well as helping to keep it in those extravagant 18th century styles.

That’s a pretty intense hair care regime for your everyday naval officer to keep looking his best even at the best of times, let alone when cursed, possibly missing pieces of your unquiet corpse, and aboard a skeleton wreck of a ship! And most of the principal ships officers wear their hair that way. I know there’s a lot of time in your hands when you have forever, but... honestly I do rather enjoy the thought of the cursed officers painstakingly putting in their curlers every night to make sure their hair is just right...

Sure, you may be missin the lower half of your torso/jaw - but your hair will always be immaculate.

(I notice, interestingly enough, that good old Armando doesn’t do curls pre-curse - he has a business-like plain queue, which suits his character down to a tee) Whether this is attributable to a tragic hair-curling accident, or the fact he’s just too impatient to bother, I’m going to leave up to everyone to make up their own minds.

He certainly has the best supernaturally assisted hair!

but in conclusion, the award for ‘best 18th century haircare under EXTREMELY difficult circumstances’ should really go to the crew of the Silent Mary...

[bannedfromcelebitchy]

Anon comment

What makes me feel differently about Harry and Meghan seeking a different life from themselves and starting for-profit businesses, is that Harry doesn't have a choice about being born royal. Not to say "poor Harry" by any means. I'd switch places with him. He's got incredible privilege. But while the Trumps sought public office, it wasn't Harry's idea to be a state functionary. If he wants to stop sucking off the taxpayer's teat (can I say that) and make his own money, should we not support  him in being his own person?

Of course he will still benefit from his name and connections, and the money he inherited from his mom, but he can't help that either. I guess my opinion on their private enterprises will be colored by how well they divest themselves of living off the people of Britain (or Canada) and how much they continue to do on behalf of the Firm. 

If the Sussexes want to be financially independent of the Queen, then by all means, work and make money. Start a company The York princesses, at least one of them, had a real job. 

I don't see anything wrong with Meghan doing voice work either since she is an actress (although I admit I didn't watch her show), but it was cringey Harry putting the guy on the spot like that. That might be the best kind of acting job she could do, one that didn't put her face or body on display where people would say she was undignified. Their making money doesn't seem like a big deal to me (I like both Kate and Meg) .

---------------------------------------------------------------

I see where you are coming from. And I understand the point of Harry not  having a choice. But neither does anyone else. People are born in poverty, in totalitarian countries and they have no choice about it. And when they want to better themselves, or try finding a better life, the rich countries close their borders and tell them -  better your life in your own country.  We still expect these people to follow all the laws, all the ethical norms. We prosecute them if they don’t. If they have nothing to eat and steal -  they are prosecuted. If they have nowhere to live  - they are prosecuted. And if they are unlucky to born in one of the countries the US has an issue with, they also bombed and killed without having any choice.Not many people seem to care about that.

Harry didn’t have a choice of being born Royal, but that doesn’t mean he can act in an unethical way or expect special treatment because of it . 

The issue is going to be -  how can H&M make money ethically, when the most valuable thing they have is their connection to the royal family and the royal money? How they are going to square this circle?

I have absolutely no issue with Meghan and Harry making money, but they have to do it honestly.  A regular actor would never be able to get this type of access to the CEO of Disney. Did Meghan take the job from another actress because of who she is? Plus, it was an official royal engagement, where H&M were representing the Queen and the state, not their own private interests.

[scabopolis]

pre-series au: logan x veronica - you just sway

This was supposed to be a 5-times fic (5-times Veronica asks Logan to dance and 1-time he asks her) but your girl is wordy and can’t write anything without trying to get too cute, so this turned into a pre-series little ficlet (that has more I’ve written so might get finished and posted to AO3). I’ve never ready a 10,000 word 5-times fic and genre bending moves are not within my capacity at the moment.

Written on my bus commute to work and edited hastily. 

This is a pre-series choose your own adventure type situation. Want it to be canon compliant? Go for it! Want it to spin off into a whole world of imagination? That works, too. 

Be kind. Rewind. Er, reblog?

pre-series au: logan x veronica - you just sway

So, you just sway back and forth?

For the past hour, Veronica’s been watching as the girls and boys in her seventh grade class step into their first slow dancing foray with trepidation. And here she stands, off to the side drinking fruit punch and munching on generic Oreos puzzled by the enterprise. It doesn’t come off as romantic as the movies make it look. Frankly her classmates don’t really seem to be enjoying themselves.

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting.

Okay, that’s not true.

She’s been to a few gatherings at Lilly’s house (a term she coined to sell them to her dad who believes she is far too young for parties) and they led Veronica to expect the night to be a veritable bump and grind fest. But instead when Low came on all the girls clumped together, giggling at their poor attempts at dropping it low, and the boys hung off to the side looking bored by it all. Lilly isn’t even here, deciding the fête wasn’t worth her time. Duncan is there as his dad informed him it was his duty as seventh grade vice president to be there for his constituents. (Lilly eye-rolled handily at this and Veronica couldn’t tell if Mr. Kane was joking or not.)

As Veronica contemplates dunking her bargain basement Oreo into the fruit punch (would it be like a crunch chocolate covered strawberry situation?) someone pushes her from behind. She thinks it must be an accident until it happens again and continues until she’s standing in the center of the dance floor. She whips her head around, determined to give the personal space bubble violator a very intense lecture, and is met with the smiling face of Meg Manning. Sweet Meg. Sweet Meg who looks so proud of herself. Sweet Meg who looks, dare it be, a little mischievous?

“What are you –“

“I’ll take those, thank you.” And Meg does. Takes the remaining stack of cookies and the cup of punch away from Veronica. “Your wallflower days are numbered.” 

“I was enjoying those.” She’s not sure if she’s defending the cookies or her decision to be a wallflower. Maybe both.

“No you weren’t. And even if you were consider this an opportunity to enjoy something else.”

“Like what?”

“We’re at a dance, Veronica.”

She walks away with those words, and Veronica watches as Meg munches on one of her cookies. But maybe she has a point. Veronica did take extra time to iron her dress for the party. And spent her weekly allowance on a new lip gloss. Dancing is, when she thinks about it, the most logical thing to do. She doesn’t want to waste good lip gloss. Her resolve fades, however, as she approaches a group of friends from her earth science class and the song changes to something slower. Another slow song. God, what is with this DJ? She did not come here to slow dance.

Except when Veronica turns around she sees Meg looking at her. All big eyes and hopeful. She doesn’t have to say the words “I’m rooting for you” but Veronica knows she is. Fine. She’ll consider it an anthropological exercise. She couldn’t figure out the appeal of the whole slow dancing thing by watching, so maybe doing it herself will provide some heretofore missing insight.

Now the decision on who to dance with.

Veronica’s first choice is Duncan. She’s been hanging with Lilly almost every day after school, and Duncan always smiles at her in this way that makes her insides feel a little warm. But Duncan is currently dancing with Susan Knight, a friend from student council, so there goes that option. Casey Gant is always nice to her but in a way that makes her feel she’s being made fun of. Plus she knows he and Sean have been sipping something from a flask all night and she’s too familiar with the scent of bootleg vodka to find that appealing. Which leaves her with very few options.

There’s a tap on her shoulder and she breathes out a sigh of relief, certain it’s Meg taking pity on her. But of course she is just not that lucky.

Logan. Of course.

She likes Logan. She thinks. Well, he’s kind of dating her best-friend (Lilly laughs at her whenever she asks if the two of them are going out) so she kinda has to like him. It’s just –

Well, it’s just --

It’s just a bunch of little things. Like, he has this habit, usually when she just finished swimming and she’s in the Kanes’ kitchen making a snack, of catching her off guard. It makes him laugh to see her jump and he doesn’t ever flinch when she socks him in the shoulder in response. She also can’t tell if he thinks she’s stupid, or if he just thinks he’s better than her. Her middle school survival tool is sarcasm she cuts with a smile. People don’t understand it usually and she moves through the halls unscathed. But then there’s Logan. For every biting piece of commentary she offers, he has at least two more at the ready. It’s incredibly annoying. Can’t he just let her have the last word for once?

He’s looking down at her with his usual faintly mocking expression and she really wants to knock him down. Comment on the fact that he has way too much hair gel in his hair. But he also looks sort of nice. Most of the other boys are wearing ties and jackets but Logan is only wearing well-fitting navy slacks and a white button down shirt. Somehow he looks more put together than anyone else. Must be really expensive fabric or something. So she ignores the voice telling her to say the first mean thing that comes to mind. She also ignores the second (So, did the bottle of CK One break, or did you bathe in it?) and takes a step back.

“What do you want, Logan?”

“You have a problem.”

“I don’t have a problem.”

“Oh, yes you do. Looks to me like the founder and sole member of the spirit committee insists you dance, but here you are with nary a dance partner to your name.”

“Thank you for the synopsis. I would be so lost without you.”

Logan ignores her. No, that’s not true. She used to think that Logan ignored her, but it’s just this thing he does. Where he pretends not to and then, bam, you’re talking to Duncan about why mushrooms should never be in lasagna and Logan throws in a, “it’s a texture thing, right” and you realize he listens to everything. That’s another one of Logan’s annoying things.

So, Logan doesn’t ignore her. But he does put his hands in his pockets, roll back and forth on his heels, and then duck down a little so he can conspiratorially whisper, “I know someone who could help you with that.”

“Really?”

“Mm,” he hums. “It’s just this guy has very low self-esteem. Hollywood brat, you know. Consistently needs validation.”

Veronica snorts at that. Because Logan is so many things but someone with low self-esteem is not one of them.

“What do you suggest, then?” she asks.

“Well, fragile ego that he has, I think he just wants to be wanted, you know?”

“So Hollywood.”

“All it would take, I think, is for someone to ask. A simple, ‘Dear Logan’” – he pauses, an imperious hand waved in her direction – “we’ll call this poor soul Logan for ease, ‘Dear Logan, please help me in my current state of social misery and dance with me? Please?’”

She carefully considers her options. While not usually one to take the path of least resistance, she opts for it this time. “Logan, will you dance with me?” She puts out her hand.

Logan looks like he’s about to take it and then frowns. “You didn’t say please.”

“Oh god,” she groans, taking his hand. “Shut up.”

[bamby0304]

The Hart III: Secrets

Chapter Five- 1973

Series Masterlist

Summary: Three months… Dean was gone for three months and now he’s back. He’s back and he truly has no idea how much things have changed. Life moved on while Dean was in Hell, and now things are complicated. With new faces and troubles right around the corner, will the trio find a way to come back together? Or has all hope been lost?

Warnings: Angst.

Bamby

EPOV

The sound of someone moving around the hotel room had me roll on the couch so I could face whoever it was. But I hadn't needed to turn to know who was moving about. I'd known it was Sam.

"You're going, aren't you?"

He froze at the sound of my soft voice, looking at me as if he were a deer caught in headlights. "Uh... yeah..."

Sighing, I threw my blanket off and sat, looking up at him. "And what do you want me to tell him if he wakes up?" I asked, nodding to Dean.

Glancing briefly at his brother, Sam shrugged. "You'll think of something." Tugging his jacket on, her started for the door.

I found myself focusing on a stain on the ground as I spoke again. "When are you going to tell him? About Ruby? The demons? Everything?"

He paused at the door, his hand on the handle. "When are you going to tell him about your boyfriend?"

Tensing, I fell silent as I watched him walk out without another word. What we'd said was too heavy to really respond to. There was no right answer we could provide. Both of us knew that our secrets weren't good. They weren't all bad but they definitely weren't good.

Sam knew Dean would disapprove of his extracurricular activities. He knew his brother wouldn't like that Ruby had been by his side, helping with said activities for months now.

At the same time, I knew telling Dean about my boyfriend… well it was complicated.

I'd always said I wasn't the type to settle down, commit, find someone and decided to stay with them. I'd been the kind of girl to go from person to person, and I enjoyed the ride. Having no strings attached seemed like the only way for me. Until him. Tristan.

At the thought of him, I was reminded of the ache inside me. For the last few days it had been getting worse and worse, almost making me sick. Part of me was wondering if it was because of all this distance from him.

Groaning, I reached over to my bag and grabbed the small bottle of pills that sat in the front pocket. Getting to my feet, I moved over to the bathroom to get a drink and wash my face, hoping the pills might help me get some sleep.

DPOV

Screams, everywhere. I could hear them all. Feel it all. It was like I'd never left. Like I was cursed to repeat it over and over for the rest of my life. Torture from the torture I'd already gone through.

Hell.

When Meg- while in Sam's body- had described Hell, I hadn't really understood what she meant. But now I did.

There was nothing on Earth that I could compare Hell to. Nothing so painful or terrifying. There was no way I could adequately describe what it was like there.

Pain, blood, screams, all the horrors you could imagine and so much more. All of it plagued my mind as I tried desperately to get some kind of sleep.

I woke up with a start, covered in a thin layer of sweat, my breath come out ragged and faster than usual.

"Hello, Dean."

At the sound of someone's voice, I sat up and turned quickly, finding Castiel sitting on my bed.

"What were you dreaming about?" he asked, turning to look at me, a knowing look in his eyes.

Instead of answering I shifted into a more comfortable sitting position, shoving my jacket- that I'd been using as a blanket- off. "What, do you get your freak on by watching other people sleep? What do you want?"

"Listen to me. You have to stop it."

"Stop what?"

But just like how I'd dodged his question, he didn't answer. Instead he raised his hand and pressed two fingers to my forehead. I'm exactly sure what he did to me, but suddenly I was out like a light.

EPOV

Drying my hair with the crappy hotel towel, I walked out of the bathroom only to come to a stop.

Sitting there, on Dean's bed, was Castiel. But that wasn't all that was different. Now Dean was gone. Which meant I was alone, with an angel...

"Where's Dean?"

He rose from the bed and walked around to stand in the middle of the room, now facing me completely.

If he wasn't so powerful and intimidating, and I wasn't taken, I probably would have tried flirting with him. They guy was hot. I mean, hot. Tall, dark and mysterious. The slight shadow of hair growing on his face- too short to be shaved yet- and the way his clothes sat haphazardly, it all just added to his attractiveness.

"Dean's gone."

His answer pushed my nerves down as an annoyance grew. I knew Dean was gone, I wanted to where he went. "Where is he?"

"It's none of your concern."

Taking a step closer to the angel, I glared at him, ignoring the fact my mind was telling me to back off. "Look, I don't care who you are, and I certainly don't care about whatever plans you have for this war you should be fighting yourself." Dean had told us what Castiel had told him about Lucifer and Lilith. "Dean is my concern. He's my friend. He's family. So, you will tell me where he is."

He seemed so unfazed as he looked down at where I now stood barely a step away from him. "Or what?"

"Or I'll do whatever it takes to makes sure Dean doesn't do what you want him to do. I'll convince him to hate you and your kind, to distrust you all, to never believe a single word that passes through your lips." When he opened his mouth to respond, I went on, "And before you say I can't... there isn't much I can't do once I set my mind to it. So, tell me where he is. Now."

DPOV

"Move it buddy. You can't sleep here."

My eyes shot up as I woke and sat up. I was outside, the sun bright and shinning down on me to a point where I could hardly see as my eyes adjusted.

Standing by me was a cop, looking less than impressed with me.

"Okay..." I had no idea what the hell he was going on about. "Sleep where?"

"Anywhere but here." He gestured to where I was lying before walking off.

I sat up and frowned at the bus stop bench I'd been asleep on. Whatever Castiel did to me, he sent me somewhere that clearly wasn't my hotel room. Which meant he left Liz and Sam there without me and they had no idea where I was.

Pulling out my phone, I went to call them but found I had no signal. "Perfect." With a groan I got up and walked across the road, heading over to a place called Jay Bird's Diner.

Walking in, I looked around the joint. There was some kind of old music playing in the background as people sat around eating food and drinking coffee. It was like any other diner.

Moving to the counter, I took a seat next to a guy, looking over at him. "Hey, where the hell am I?"

He turned to me, answering. "Jay Bird's Diner."

I knew that. "Yeah, thanks. I mean, uh... city and state."

The corner of his lip rose a little before he filled in the blanks. "Lawrence, Kansas."

Sighing, I faced the counter again. "Lawrence." Great...

"Hey, you okay buddy?"

"Yeah, tough night."

Nodding, he gestured to the waiter behind the counter. "Hey, uh, coffee here, Reg."

Pulling out my phone, I showed it to him, hoping he could help me with the signal problem as well. "Can you tell me where I can get reception on this thing?"

"The USS Enterprise?" he gave a short chuckle, turning back to the newspaper in front of him.

The waiter came over then, placing the coffee in front of me. He was dressed like he'd just stepped out of a cliched '70s hippie movie. With the moustache, shaggy hair and flared pants, the whole outfit screamed flower power.

"Thanks... nice threads. You know Sonny and Cher broke up, right?" I grinned into my cup, taking a sip.

"Sonny and Cher broke up?" the guy next to me asked, sounding genuinely shocked. Even the waiter looked surprised.

Wait... what?

Turning around, I gave the place a better look, and only just realised what I'd miss before. The bad hair-dos, clothes, music. Even the furniture and style of the place seemed off, out dated. It was like...

Looking to the guy next to me again, I glanced at his newspaper, reading the date. Monday, April 30, 1973.

Son of a bitch. Castiel sent me back in time.

"Hey, Winchester."

I turned to see an older man walking into the diner, headed straight for the counter, moving to the guy next to me.

"Son of a bitch." The old guy shook his hand. "How you doing, Corporal?"

The guy next to me smiled. "Hey, Mr D."

"I heard you were back."

"Yeah, a little while now."

"Good to have you home, John, damn good."

John. "Dad?" I muttered to myself, still watching the exchange.

"Well, say hello to your old man for me." The older man gave John a pat on the shoulder as he started to head over to another table.

"You got it, Mr D," John called before he shifted to face his paper again, only to notice me staring at him. "Do we know each other?"

With wide eyes, I took a moment to respond as I tried to not freak out. "I guess not," I managed to say as I reached for my coffee again.

After a beat, John grabbed his jacket and started to get up. "Take it easy, pal," he told me before moving for the door.

"Yeah." I nodded, watching him.

The moment he was out the door I was up and following him. There was no way in hell I was letting him go that easy. I mean, it's my dad after all.

I was following my dad- the younger, 70s version of him. Keeping a distance that meant I could duck away and not be seen if he turned, but close enough so I could keep track of him. That's what I wanted, to keep track of him. To make sure he was okay. Safe.

As I walked around the corner, I'd been expecting to see dad walking, but instead I found myself almost bumping into Castiel and Liz.

"Whoa." Liz lifted her hand to her head as she tried to stay standing.

I stepped forward to grab her arm and help keep her steady. "You okay?"

She nodded gently, moving closer to me as she closed her eyes to shield them from the light. "Just need a minute."

Shaking my head, I turned to glare at the angel. "What is this?" I asked, gesturing to our surroundings.

His voice was as flat as it usually was when he answered. "What does it look like?"

"Is it real?"

"Very."

"Okay, so what? Angels got their hands on some DeLoreans? How did I get here?"

"Time is fluid, Dean." He turned away from me, looking around us. "It's not easy, but we can bend it on occasion."

"Well bend it back or tell me what the hell we're doing here!"

He nodded to Liz. "She's here because she's demanding and annoying." Liz flipped him off in response, while he just went on, "I already told you why you're here. You have to stop it."

"Stop what? Huh? What, is there something nasty after my dad?"

A car horn went off, catching my attention. I turned to see what was going on and then turned back to Castiel, only he was gone.

"Oh, come on! What, are you allergic to straight answers, you son of a bitch?!"

"He's a dick." Liz sighed, stepping away from me a little, still rubbing her temples. "But he sent you here for a reason, so let's just get to work. Okay?"

"Okay." I nodded, following as she started to walk down the path in the direction I'd been going before. "You sure you're all right though?"

"I'm fine Dean."

EPOV

Walking next to Dean, I followed him into a car dealership. In a moment or two I spotted her. The Impala. She was as gorgeous now as she was in the future.

Smiling widely, I stepped up to her and crouched down, running a hand over her hood. "Hey, Baby."

Dean chuckled as he stood next to me. "I swear you love her almost as much as I do."

"Can you blame me?" I asked, grinning up at him.

"A fine young man like yourself, just starting out? How about I take off another two hundred and fifty?" a man asked from a car close to baby. It was a 1967 Volkswagen Samba Bus, cream and white. Nice, but no Impala.

The young man he offered the deal to thought about it for a moment before nodding with a smile on his face. "Let's do it."

I stood, looking the guy up and down, seeing the resemblance almost instantly. "That's your dad," I noted in a hushed voice as I leaned a little closer to Dean.

"Yeah. That's my dad." He nodded, shifting so he was leaning on Baby's hood. Once the car salesman walked off towards the office, Dean spoke up, getting his dad's attention, "That's not the one you want."

Startled, John turned to us before frowning accusingly at Dean. "You following me?"

"No, no, I was just passing by," Dean lied as he pushed off Baby's hood. "I never got to thank you for that cup of coffee this morning. I was a little out of it."

"More than a little." John grinned.

Dean gestured to me. "Found my friend, so things are looking better." Turning back to his dad, he went on. "Let me repay the favour." He gave Baby's hood a pat. "This is the one you want."

"Oh yeah, you- you know something about cars?"

"Yeah... yeah, my dad taught me everything I know." Dean nodded with a nostalgic look in his eyes. "And this. This is a great car." Pushing off the hood, I turned and opened her up as Dean and John came to take a look inside. "Three-twenty-seven four-barrel," Dean started.

"Two hundred and seventy-five horses," I added.

"A little TLC and this thing is cherry," Dean finished.

"You know man, you're right." John nodded. Just looking at him, you could see the admiration he had for the car. I could tell why he'd bought it all those years ago- or, now, I guess.

Dean gestured to her van behind us. "Then what are you buying that thing for?"

Pulling away from Baby's hood, John shrugged. "I kinda promised someone I would."

"Over a '67 Chevy?" Dean chuckled. "I mean, come on, this is the car of a lifetime. Trust me, this thing's still gonna be badass when it's forty."

After considering it for a moment, John pulled back and offered his hand to Dean. "John Winchester. Thanks."

Dean shook his hand. "Dean Van Halen, and thank you." He gestured to me. "And this is-"

"Elizabeth Rose Hart." I smiled, offering my hand to John. "I just want to thank you as well. For helping Dean out this morning."

"It's no problem," John assured me.

"I was in pretty rough shape this morning, huh?" Dean chuckled.

Grinning, amused, John moved to Baby's open windows, taking a look inside. "No kidding."

"I've been hung over before but, hey, I was, I was getting chills in that diner. You didn't feel any of those cold spots, did you?" Dean asked, trying to keep it casual.

John shook his head. "Nope."

Dean kept trying. "I swore I smelled something weird too, you know? Like... like rotten eggs. You didn't happen to smell any sulfur by chance?" Either he was trying to figure out if John was a hunter, or if something was after him.

"No," John answered, still checking Baby out.

"There been any cattle mutilations in town recently?"

Before John could respond or freak out, I quickly spoke cut in, "Sorry about him. It's his hangover, I swear. Alcohol does weird things to him."

John calmed slowly, looking from me to Dean. "Yeah, okay."

"I'm gonna go get some food into him. But, uh, take care of yourself okay, John?" Offering him a smile I started backing up, grabbing Dean's hand to drag him along.

"Yeah, sure," John called to us as we left.

Once we were out of the dealership, Dean turned to glare at me. "What the hell? We can't just leave him."

"We're not. We're gonna follow him. Without being seen." Walking up to a car parked on the side of the street, I nodded at the car door, opening it with my mind. "Now get in."

DPOV

Liz parked a couple house down from where dad stopped. The two of us watched as he got out of Baby- which he just bought- and leaned against her, waiting. Not too long after a woman around Liz's age came out of a sweet, blue house, rushing over to John with a wide smile on her face.

I frowned, taking in the exchange between dad and the woman. It didn't take long for me to realise who she was.

"Mum?"

Liz shifted in her seat, leaning forward to try and get a better look. "That's your mum?"

"Yeah..."

We'd followed mum and dad to the diner again. It was dark now. The two of them were seated at a booth inside, drinking milkshakes, on a date. Liz and I were outside, watching through a window, hiding in the shadows.

"Sammy, wherever you are, mum is a babe," I muttered to myself. Liz chuckled beside me. "I'm going to hell... again."

"You're not wrong. She's gorgeous," Liz noted as she continued to watch my parents. "Both of them. I can see why the Winchester are so irresistible."

I turned to her then, grinning down at her. "You think I'm irresistible?"

Slowly she looked up at me. She didn't say anything, but the look in her eyes told me enough. I could practically see what she was thinking as her eyes searched mine, and surprisingly, I didn't see the desire I was used to seeing.

If I was being honest, there was desire there. But it was as if there was something else pushing it away, smothering it, telling her not to feel that way. There was a conflict in her eyes, and it worried me.

EPOV

"Why are you following us?"

Dean and I only had a moment to turn to Mary- who was now behind us- before she attacked.

Going for Dean first, she kneed him in the stomach and then grabbed me, pushing me to the wall before lifting her fist to punch me. But before she could, Dean shoved her away from me. Her attention was back on him now as he tried to dodge all her punches and kicks.

"Are you crazy?" he panted, dodging yet another one of her punches.

"You've been trailing us since my house."

He managed to grab her arm before she could hit him. "I don't know what you're talking-"

Cutting him off. kicking him in the stomach again. "Really?"

As Dean stumbled back, leaning forward, I could see she was about to get him again. I stepped forward now, grabbing her arm and pushing her against the wall before she could hurt Dean anymore.

"Be careful," Dean warned me.

"I am," I assured him. Mary struggled against my hold, drawing my attention to her again. "Look, you can either keep fighting or-" My eyes landed on her charm bracelet. Her silver bracelet with protective charms hanging from it. Pulling back, I waited for her to turn and face me before I asked, "Are you... are you a hunter?"

Dean and I stepped out of the shadows by Mary's house once we heard John drive off.

"Dean and Elizabeth, right?" Mary asked as she watched as move toward her. "I'm not sure you should come in."

"You can trust us," Dean assured her. "I mean, come on, we're all hunters, right? I mean, we're- we're practically family."

I could only imagine what this must feel like for him. I knew it would be amazing, to see his parents like this, alive, young, happy and healthy. But at the same time, it must be torture, having to hide who he is. Tip-toeing around every conversation and move he makes, not wanting to mess anything up. It had to be hard.

Mary shook her head. "Yeah, thing is, my dad, he's a little, um..."

"Oh, I gotta meet him." Dean was excited, but I understood why.

Mary frowned, confused. "You've heard of him?"

Dean hesitated a moment before giving a short shrug. "Clearly not enough."

Sighing, she shook her head again as she started for the house. Dean and I were a step behind.

I leaned in closer to him, talking so she wouldn't hear us. "Are you sure this is the best idea? Couldn't this mess up our whole future? Shouldn't we just be observing or something?" I'd seen enough sci-fi movies to know travelling to the past was never a good thing.

"Castiel sent me here to stop something. Can't do that from the shadows," he noted, sounding so sure of himself.

DPOV

Mary had brought us into her home, and lead us to the living room where her father sat on a recliner, reading an old lore book. She'd introduced Liz and I to him, but he clearly wasn't interested.

"So, you're hunters? Well, tell me something, you kill vampires with wooden stakes or silver?" he asked.

"Neither," Liz answered.

"You cut their heads off," I finished, causing Mary to smile a little from where she stood on my other side. "So, did we pass your test?"

"Yep," he answered shortly, closing the book and setting it on the table next to him. "Now get out of my house."

"Dad!"

"I don't trust other hunters, don't want their help, don't want them around my family," he explained.

Honestly, I understood what he was saying. Most hunters we came across, I wouldn't trust them either.

Mary's mother was in the other room, setting the table. "Knock it off, Samuel," she called to her husband.

"They're hunters," Samuel argued.

His wife walked into the room, not caring for his excuses and reasons. "Who passed your little pop quiz, and now I am inviting them to dinner." She turned to Liz and me. "Are you hungry?"

I gave a short nod. "Starving."

Liz smiled at the older woman. "Could eat a horse."

"Good." She smiled back at the two of us. "I'm Deanna, you've met my husband Samuel, now wash up," she ordered before walking back into the dining room.

I looked from Deanna to Samuel and then to Mary. "Samuel and Deanna?" She gave a short nod. "Really?"

EPOV

I sat between Deanna and Dean, enjoying an actually home cooked meal. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten something that wasn't from a packet or heated in the microwave. This was pure bliss.

As we all sat and ate the delicious meal, Deanna turned to Dean and me, breaking the silence. "First time in Lawrence?"

Dean shook his head. "Well, it's been a while. Things sure have changed... I think."

"I've been a few times, but mainly just driven through," I added.

"You working a job?" Samuel asked.

Looking away from his grandmother, Dean shrugged at Samuel's question. "Yeah, maybe."

"What's that mean?"

"It means I don't trust other hunters either, Samuel." Dean gave a light grin.

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh as I looked down at my food. In the corner of my eye I could see Mary doing the same, as Deanna gave her husband an amused glance, while Samuel's lips turned up in a slight grin as well.

"Hey, um, so why were you following me and John?" Mary asked, looking from Dean to me.

"Oh, uh, we thought something was following your boyfriend," I answered causally. "Kept track of him for a while, but we're pretty sure we were wrong."

"John Winchester mixing it up with spirits, can you imagine?" Deanna chuckled lightly, causing Samuel to sigh.

Mary rolled her eyes at her father. "I saw that."

"What?" He turned to us, playing dumb.

"That sour-lemon look."

"Now hold on, John's a really, really nice... naive civilian."

Mary scoffed. "So what? You'd rather me be with a guy like this?" She nodded to Dean.

Dean nearly chocked on his food. "What? No, no. No."

"Oh, no, I didn't-" Mary quickly looked to me. "He's a great guy, I'm sure. He's just not my type, and I'm sure you two are happy." She gave me a quick smile.

I hadn't even had a real moment to think about what she'd just said to me, but I was pretty sure she thought Dean and I were together. As in, boyfriend and girlfriend, in love, dating, an item, a couple, partners, lovers. She thought what Dean and I were, was what she and John were.

Before I could correct her, she turned to her father again, her smile gone. "Anyway, is that the kind of guy you want me dating?"

Samuel shook his head. "Mary, of course not, it's just that I-"

Deanna cut him off. "That's enough, both of you, we have company." She gestured to Dean and me.

Clearing his throat, Dean changed the subject. "So, what about you, Samuel, you, uh… working a job?"

"Might be." The older man shrugged.

"He's working a job on the Whitshire Farm," Mary told us, earning a disapproving look from her father.

Dean frowned, as if he couldn't remember something, but knew there was something to remember. "Whitshire, why does that name sound familiar to me?"

"Well, it's been all over the papers," Samuel explained. "Tom Whitshire. Got tangled up in a combine a few towns over."

"That kind of thing happens," Dean noted.

"So why was he on it in the first place when his crops are all dead?"

"Demonic omens?" Dean and I said at the same time- which Mary smiled at.

Samuel gave a short nod. "That's what I gotta find out."

"What about the rest of the town? Well, did you find anything on the web?" Dean quickly realised his mistake and corrected himself, "Of information that you have assembled."

"Electrical storms maybe," Deanna answered. "The weather service graphs should be here on Friday."

"By mail?"

I turned to smile tightly at Dean. "How else would they get it, Dean?" I asked, trying to remind him of where- and when- we were.

"Right..." He nodded, once again seeing his mistake. Looking over at Samuel, he shifted in his seat slightly before speaking, "You know, it sounds to me like we might be hunting the same thing. You know if we go in there in numbers, we could take care of this real quick."

But Samuel still wasn't on board with the two of us hanging around. "What part of 'we work alone' do you not understand, son?"

DPOV

Liz and I had slept in the car we'd stolen before making our way over to the Whitshire farm in the morning. She'd managed to steal us some clothes while I got us some breakfast. She'd grabbed a priest out fit for me, and a modest church-goer's outfit for herself.

Unfortunately, while questioning Mrs. Whitshire about her husband's death and the days before it, she offered no real help. There was nothing she told us that could help us figure out what we were dealing with.

The three of us were headed for her front door, Liz and I ready to leave. As I opened the door, about to say good bye, the three of us paused, surprised to see someone standing on the porch. But it wasn't just someone. It was Samuel.

He was dressed as a priest as well, and surprised to see Liz and I. "Father," he gave me a tight smile, "I see you beat me here."

"The Lord is funny that way." My smile was lighter than his. As I stepped out of the house, I gestured to Mrs Whitshire. "Beth Whitshire, this is my associate, our senior, senior priest, Father Chaney."

"Please accept our deepest condolences on behalf of the county diocese." Samuel offered her what looked like fruit cake.

Mrs Whitshire accepted the gift. "Thank you."

"Mrs. Whitshire was just telling the father and I all about Tom." Liz smiled at Samuel, playing on her sweet side she often used during cases. "She told us all about how normal and ordinary things were the day before his death."

Samuel nodded. "I see, so you didn't notice anything unusual, ma'am?"

"You mean like my husband's guts fertilizing the back forty?" Mrs Whitshire asked, a little too harshly. But I didn't mind. It actually amused me, seeing the shocked look on Samuel's face.

While he was still stunned into silence, I gave Ms Whitshire a short nod and smile. "Excuse us."

Before Samuel could react, Liz and I walked off, heading over to where Mary stood with the Whitshire son. They stood by a tree, the boy leaning against it as he spoke to Mary.

As we approached them, Mary turned to Liz and I for a moment before focussing on the boy again. "Charlie, would you like to tell the Father here what you just told me?"

Charlie turned his attention to me, looking a little scared as he spoke. "Dad drank sometimes. Sometimes he got rough with mum."

"And that's when the stranger came?" Mary pressed- though she did so gently.

He nodded. "I just thought he was some Bible thumper, like you all. He showed up about a week ago."

"And what did he say?" Liz asked.

"Did I want the beatings to stop? I just thought he was crazy, I didn't think-" He cut himself off for a moment before going on. "And the next thing I know, dad's dead. Am I going to jail?"

"You didn't do this, Charlie," Mary assured him.

"Did the stranger want something in return?" I asked.

He shook his head. "He didn't want anything."

"Come on, Chuck, he wasn't just handing out freebies now, was he?"

"He did say something about comin' a callin' ten years from now. Maybe he'd want something then."

That did not sound good. "Something like what?"

"I don't know, okay? Look, I told you he was nuts."

Gently, Mary grabbed my arm and lead us a few steps away. Liz followed, coming to stand with us as our backs faced Charlie.

"What do you think?" Mary asked the both of us.

"I think he just pimped his soul to a demon and doesn't even know it."

Liz nodded. "Dean's right. I don't see any other option here."

Looking from Liz and me, Mary nodded as she turned and moved back to Charlie. "Charlie, do you remember what this stranger looked like?"

He nodded, answering as Liz and I moved over to stand with them again. "Yeah, he was about 5'10, white, normal looking really."

"Anything else?" Mary questioned.

"There was one thing."

When he didn't go on, I urged him to tell us. "What?"

"It's just, the light hit his eyes in a weird way and... for a moment I coulda sworn-"

I cut him off, "What? That they were black? Or red maybe?"

He shook his head. "No, they were yellow. Pale yellow."

Bamby

[weerd1]

Star Trek DS9 Rewatch Log, Stardate 1908.18: Missions Reviewed, “The Muse,” “For the Cause,” and “To the Death.”

“The Muse” begins with Jake Sisko watching the people boarding the station and creating backgrounds for them as possible fodder for writing (ah, that’s where I learned that).  He sees a mysterious woman, who even seems to make eye contact with him, and later she finds him in the replimat. She says her name is Onaya, and she has always liked artists, even mentioning some recent greats whom she says she helped. 

She offers to help Jake if he comes by her quarters later.  Meanwhile Odo is faced with a pregnant Lwaxana Troi who is on the run from her Baby Daddy. Apparently that race practices strict gender separation for children, and though her husband told her he would not, because the baby is a boy he will take the child from Lwaxana at birth. She and Odo concoct a plan to marry to get rid of the guy, who sure enough shows up on the station. The plan works and he leaves mother and child alone. 

 Onaya and Jake meanwhile are hanging out in her groovy quarters, and she gets him to start working on his novel. As he writes, it becomes ever easier for him, but Onaya is feeding off his creative energies, draining him, and landing him in the infirmary.  Onaya appears there and sneaks him out, hiding Jake in a storeroom as he writes and she vampires him. Sisko finds them and phasers Onaya, who turns to energy and escapes. Meanwhile, Jake has completed the first draft of the novel “Anslem,” the book that the episode “The Visitor” told us would be his classic work.

This is an episode that doesn’t seem to have a whole lot to do for either of these stories so it can’t work out which is the A story and which is the B.  They seem to get even time, and neither of them are especially compelling.  Not for lack of trying however.  Odo does get some character development as he works out his feelings with Lwaxana, and the mention of “Anslem” does recall the best episode of the series. The guest stars are top notch with 80s SF icon Meg Foster appearing as Onaya, and Michael Ansara—formerly Kang the Klingon—as Lwaxana’s angry husband.  The episode never quite gets anywhere for me, though it certainly isn’t “bad.” One more quick aside: the nurse caring for Jake is played by Patricia Tallman, whom I have mentioned before. She was Nana Visitor’s stunt double, and of course the character of Lyta Alexander on that other space station, “Babylon 5.”

“For the Cause” has Odo and Eddington come to Sisko to tell him they think there’s a Maquis smuggler on board; they think it’s the Captain’s lady friend Kassidy Yates. This is in the midst of security tightening as the Federation is about to provide some industrial food replicators to Cardassia to help them with all the Klingon-caused shortages.

 Sisko is initially resistant to the idea Kassidy could be involved, but has the Defiant trail her next mission. Sure enough, her ship goes off course, and potentially meets with a Maquis vessel. Meanwhile, Garak keeps running into Tora Ziyal and is curious as to whether Gul Dukat’s daughter wants him dead. When Kira threatens Garak telling her to stay away from the girl, he takes that as a sign Ziyal is legitimately seeking company, and Kira would have no problem seeing Garak dead.

 Sisko becomes determined to stop Kassidy Yates personally and captains the Defiant in pursuit. Eddington doesn’t want to be in on arresting the Captain’s girlfriend and asks to stay behind.  Kassidy’s ship enters the Badlands like before, but this time seems to just keep circling in a holding pattern. After several hours Sisko has enough, decloaks and boards the Xhosha (Kassidy’s ship). She is caught red handed, but doesn’t know why her Maquis contact hasn’t shown up. Sisko realizes distracting him is the target. The return to DS9 leaving the Xhosha behind, to find that Eddington is in fact Maquis, and has stolen the replicators intended for Cardassia. He says he has joined the Maquis because the Federation has become as insidious as the Borg, now punishing planets for the one unforgivable sin: “wanting to leave paradise.” Kassidy returns to DS9 after dropping off her crew, and turns herself in, knowing she’s on her way to a Federation penal colony. She promises Ben she will be back, because she loves him.

A perfect example of the type of character work that makes DS9 great. The Kassidy Yates relationship has been building for a couple of years now, so when Odo and Eddington accuse her, we think “no way.” Well, “way” and what’s brilliant is her support of the Maquis doesn’t really make her a villain. She sympathizes with their plight, which is indeed a sympathetic cause.  She though is set up by the Maquis who IS a villain, and that’s our Commander Eddington, who has played both Kassidy and Sisko. Often just one of those “extra” Starfleet guys, he’s now made himself important, and that’s something that plays well here.  Later on he will really try to set himself up as Sisko’s nemesis, but he’s just a guy who betrayed his oath, and Sisko won’t let him forget that.  Well executed episode that moves along the Maquis storyline well and sets us up for some future tales.

“To the Death” starts with the Defiant returning to DS9 to find the station has suffered a devastating hit from the Jem’Hadar. 

Sisko tracks the ship back into the Gamma quadrant where they find a damaged Jen’Hadar ship that isn’t the one they seek. Beaming over survivors they get a squad of the Dominion’s soldiers and a Vorta named Weyoun. The Jem’Hadar who attacked DS9 have actually gone rogue, and this crew was hunting them down. Weyoun reveals to Sisko that the Company of soldiers they seek have broken off because they have found an Iconian Gateway- a portal that would allow them to transport to any planet in the Galaxy instantaneously, and they plan to use it to free themselves of the Dominion and conquer all they can.  Sisko grudgingly teams up with Weyoun and company, knowing they can’t be allowed to have access to the Gateways.

 When one of the Jem’Hadar stops following orders and perhaps begins to sympathize with the deserters, the Jem’Hadar “first” Omet’iklan kills him on the spot, and questions why Sisko doesn’t maintain order through lethal punishment. Weyoun wonders if Omet’iklan plans to rebel too. They attack the stronghold and manage to destroy the Gateway. There is a tense moment when it seems the allies will turn on one another when Omet’iklan kills Weyoun and decides to stay with his troops on the planet, hunting down the rest of the traitors. When asked why he killed the Vorta, it was for “questioning my loyalty.”

Some good call outs here back to the second season of TNG with the Iconians, and Worf mentions he was on the mission that found their homeworld (The TNG episode “Contagion”). We get a good look at the inner workings of the Jem’Hadar, finding out they are all test-tube babies, there are no females, and they are lethal within 3 days of birth.  Those who live past age 20 are considered “honored elders.” 

There is definitely a concerted effort NOT to make the Jem’Hadar sympathetic here. And of course, most importantly, we get Weyoun! Jeffrey Combs returns as the Smarmiest Vorta. According to the Memory Alpha website, Weyoun was intended to be a one-off, and Combs brought so much to it, the writers invented the idea of Vortas being clones just so they could bring him back.  Also of note, the Jem’Hadar killed for his insolence is played by Brian Thompson, himself a multi-guest star having played six different characters across several Trek series, including sharing another episode during “Enterprise” with Jeffrey Combs. In that outing Thompson is Romulan Admiral Valdore (for whom the Warbird in Star Trek: Nemesis is named) and Combs as the Andorian Shran, whom I still want to see have his own series.

NEXT VOYAGE: Julian Bashir gets another chance to play frontier doctor while visiting a planet suffering from “The Quickening.”

[ghostcultmagazine]

Ghost Cult caught up with Cory and Meg from Caskey Robbery, to discuss their new album "Rituals of Death" - out now via Blood Blast Distribution. Having followed the band for a long time, we unpacked the last few years of being a DIY enterprise in death metal, the return of touring, energizing their fanbase with social media, creating sick videos, and finally a track-by-track breakdown of their new album. Interview by Keefy (https://ift.tt/1n5fUiZ), and video editing by Omar Cordy of OJC Photography (https://www.instagram.com/ojcpics​​​​). Theme music by Salted Wounds (https://ift.tt/yxzjE2m). Watch the Video for "Bone Mother!" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R0xwGlQYyVA Watch the lyric video for "Worm Food" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ySuZ0NoNyPs Watch the new video for "Post-Mortem" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-f8iHoOvCU Purchase and stream the album here: https://ift.tt/Xo7P51y Support the band and get exclusive content on @Patreon https://ift.tt/sEaH6Uh Gear we use: (These are affiliate links and Ghost Cult makes a small profit from a sale) Set up A: Sony A7 III - https://amzn.to/3tQm422 Tamron 17-28 - https://amzn.to/3ePrlTd Tamron 28-75 - https://amzn.to/3fqCjgY Desview Mavo-P5 Monitor- https://amzn.to/33LlTub Manfrotto Befree Travel Tripod - https://amzn.to/3hxbL0e Set up B: Canon 80D - https://amzn.to/3ye8WqV Sigma MC-11 - https://amzn.to/3brZdU2 Sigma 18-35 - https://amzn.to/3tLlEd7 Tokina 11-16 - https://amzn.to/3bty9Uk Feelworld T7 Monitor - https://amzn.to/2Re9hta Audio: Sound Devices MixPre-3 - https://amzn.to/3tKkJd2 Gearlux XLR Mic Cable - 3 Pack - https://amzn.to/3w3zN6Y Deity D3 Microphone - https://ift.tt/npsNc7l Usb Mic - https://amzn.to/3w8JHEG Lighting: YONGNUO YN600L - https://amzn.to/2QkNrn5 YONGNUO YN300 Air - https://amzn.to/2QjN5gu Dfuse Softbox - https://amzn.to/3uQq4AN Aputure MC - https://amzn.to/3oirFgx NanLite PavoTube II 6C - http://bit.ly/NanLitePavoTubeII Lightstands - https://amzn.to/3uSBl3x 5 in 1 Reflector - https://amzn.to/33KHdjo And our iconic Rope Light https://amzn.to/3ycdmyz For the full list of Ghost Cult gear: http://bit.ly/OJCPicsKit This video contains a shoutout from Creepshow! https://ift.tt/9i3kX18 Get your band or DIY label a mention in our videos by visiting our pinned post on Twitter! https://twitter.com/GhostCultMag/status/1142861626590355456 or https://ift.tt/XqSWpxf #casketrobbery #deathmetal #ritualsofdeath #bloodblast #diymusicbiz #diymetalbands #musicmarketing #socialmedia #interview #interviews #ghostcultmag

[redhatmeg]

Malcolm Reed is a man of few words who likes explosions.

I can’t be the only one who see him as this guy:

[fathersonholygore]

They Live. 1988. Directed & Written by John Carpenter. Based on the short story “Eight O’Clock in the Morning by Ray Nelson. Starring Rowdy Roddy Piper, Keith David, Meg Foster, George ‘Buck’ Flower, Peter Jason, Raymond St. Jacques, Jason Robards III, Sy Richardson, & Norman Alden. Alive Films/Larry Franco Productions Rated R. 94 minutes. Action/Horror/Sci-Fi-Thriller

★★★★★ John Carpenter is king of genre cinema. His work transcends any type of value judgements people try placing on horror movies or science fiction. He imbues his screenplays with very real, often times prescient social themes and commentary, even in the stories of his you might not expect to find them. In They Live, those themes are painfully apparent, though done in a way Carpenter doesn’t feel like he’s hammering us over the head with sociopolitical imagery. He makes the whole thing tongue-in-cheek, rather than going entirely into a spectacle of horror with his sci-fi madness. He uses a well-known wrestler, the late Rowdy Roddy Piper as his central character, John Nada, whose literal and figurative journey through the Los Angeles urban landscape becomes our own experience with modernity. Using the premise of the short story “Eight O’Clock in the Morning” by Ray Nelson, Carpenter eviscerates American consumerism and materialism, Reaganomics, as well as questions the vast class divide which exists in most American cities. The best part about They Lives is it could genuinely have been made this year and it’d barely need updating. It’s so relevant to the state we’re in today. Given Carpenter made this in 1988, his and Nelson’s respective prescience about American society is downright stunning.

“Our owners, they have us, they control us.”

There’s another world beneath our own— one of class differences, economic divide, racism. It’s not even particularly hidden deep, just below the surface. Carpenter opens the movie with the title, then superimposes it onto a mural of graffiti in Los Angeles. We’re embedded in the city. Moreover, we immediately step into a world of duality. We also see the decay of the urban landscape. Parts of the city are clean, other parts – ones occupied by the homeless, immigrants, various people of colour and economic situations – are in a process of decay. It’s fitting our lead, John Nada, is revealed behind a passing train coming over the tracks into the city. He’s a man without a home. An itinerant worker coming to L.A. so he might find work. He left Denver, which “lost 14 banks in one week,” letting us in on the economic decline of 1980s USA. He later meets Frank (Keith David), another character symbolic of the socioeconomic situation many tradespeople found themselves in during the era, taken advantage of by Ronald Reagan’s terrible policies and a general uptick in capitalist greed across the country. Both men sleep in shelters by night, work on a construction site during the day. Their little bit of time in between work/sleep is taken up wandering the city, or being a part of the homeless community. They’re both part of a transient work economy— separated from themselves, their families, and their homes. However, Frank and Nada are completely in different in terms of race. Whereas John believes everyone’s got “their own hard times these days,” Frank can’t afford to be so understanding as a black man. He tells his friend later: “I‘m walking a white line all the time.” Nada is a white guy, so no matter his circumstances he doesn’t have to worry about his race and what that means socially/economically/politically. In opposition, Frank’s blackness forces him to live under a Panopticon of whiteness. For this reason, he has a harder time letting go of the ideological control in the city later in the movie.

“It really boils down to our ability to accept. We don’t need pessimism. There are no limits.”

Eventually, Nada stumbles onto the truth of the city, discovering an entirely other existence right behind the Los Angeles he and Frank and other lower class citizens know. He finds a pair of glasses allowing him to see through what amounts to the ideology of the upper class: capitalism, consumption, and materialism. The glasses also help Nada see the bourgeois ruling class as they truly are: predatory and decaying aliens. They’re “free enterprisers“— intergalactic capitalists monetising modern planets. Suddenly he sees the city stripped of its advertisements/media, revealing subliminal messages. Such as an ad for a transparent computer, basically selling a lack of privacy + erasure of personal barriers, revealed through the glasses only to read OBEY. Also interesting that the ideological world of media is colourised while, after putting on the glasses and cutting through the state control, the subliminal messages display in basic black and white on top of a grey city background. This is what Kanishka Goonewardena calls “mediation of ideology by urban space,” the adverts and media serving to collectivise “the patterns of consumption,” in turn acting as a measure of social control (Urban Space & Political Consciousness). The movie shows L.A. as built around the rich and powerful— all those ads are mainly aimed at the lower classes, to entice them into becoming agents of consumption and keeping them focused on material culture. The famous fight in They Live is important for more than just getting to see Piper and David duke it out— they famously choreographed it themselves, fighting for real except for the groin stuff. It’s also significant because Frank’s blackness – controlled by the American economy’s whiteness specifically – has forced him into a space of self-preservation, and the ideology of that economy’s imprinted on his mind. Then there’s Nada – his last name = Spanish for ‘nothing’ – who comes into L.A. as a vagrant, though one privileged to be white, so he’s, essentially, a blank slate— a tabula rasa, onto which everything is written, nothing’s been pre-imprinted. He hasn’t been controlled by whiteness in the way Frank has, nor does he have a home like Frank, who hopes to go back one day when financially feasible, so he’s not been indoctrinated in the same way. This means it’s easier for him to wear the sunglasses and let ideology go. Not the case for Frank, which is why Nada has to physically fight him. In The Pervert’s Guide to Ideology, Slavoj Žižek discusses this scene particularly in regards to how it represents the process of leaving ideology behind and that to “step out of ideology, it hurts, it‘s a painful experience.” Eventually, after Nada beats Frank enough, he forces the glasses on him and his friend finally sees the real world without all the ideological influence on the city, erasing the “invisible order” influencing him.

“They are dismantling the sleeping middle class”

Another important part of the movie involves the concept of ideological and repressive state apparatuses (ISA + RSA), best exemplified by how the bourgeois aliens all communicate in a horde through the use of “two–way radios” built into fancy watches. The watches are class symbols, serving a dual function as a way of communication about class: in one sense, the watch tells others the wearer is upper class, and in the other, the watch allows the upper class to communicate amongst themselves, plus those who aren’t wearing them become subject to further state control. At one point, Nada is caught ‘seeing’ through the veil, so an alien calls for backup. Around the corner in an alley he’s confronted with cops, who happen to be bourgeois aliens themselves (even the human cops are turned against human citizens via fear of the dreaded American boogeyman: Communism!). Here, the connection between the ideological state apparatus – a “material force of ideology” (Žižek) represented by the watches – and the repressive state apparatus – law enforcement – is evident, a direct line between ideology controlling the city v. physical force of law and order controlling the city. All brings to mind the numerous idiot white people in America as of late calling the cops on black people for simply existing. Then there’s the idea of the two-way watch, conjuring 2018 issues of Facebook spying on our calls through the smartphone app, Alexa listening to all your conversations even while it’s off, and other similar postmodern tech predicaments. Again, an eerie Carpenter prescience rears its head.

“I believe in America. I follow the rules.”

Several Carpenter movies are on my all-time favourites list. His entire filmography, even the couple lesser entries, is a dream. He’s touched on so many different issues, stories, and themes there’s something for every kind of viewer, so long as you dig genre movies. They Live is Carpenter the Master at the top of his game. Because each time you watch this one, there are different things to take away, and the movie’s power grows stronger all the time. This is a condemnation of America consumerism and materialism, attacking an economy which was a result of Ronald Reagan’s horrible policy decisions. The media, the bourgeois owners of production, the government, and the police are all criticised throughout, more often than not with tongue firmly planted in cheek. We see all the cogs of capitalism and all the destruction its left in its wake across American cities. Carpenter, through Nada, strips advertising and media of all its creative, devious nuance and lays bare its function as a tactic of social control through consumer culture. They Live is decidedly a story of the USA, rather than the Western world as a whole. While there are extremely similar struggles all over the postmodern world, America’s struggle is so glaringly obvious, and painful, due to the fact it’s a country based specifically on a dream. Carpenter dismantles it in many ways. He also warns the American Dream is named as such because it’s an illusion, a method of manipulation by the ruling class. There’s no more American Dream— only in its citizens waking economic/social/political nightmares.

Prayers to a Consumer God: American Decay + Ideological Control in THEY LIVE They Live. 1988. Directed & Written by John Carpenter. Based on the short story "Eight O'Clock in the Morning by Ray Nelson.

[jeremystrele]

15 Excellent Indigenous Art Centres To Support And Celebrate!

15 Excellent Indigenous Art Centres To Support And Celebrate!

Indigenous Art

by Sally Tabart

Peter Mungkuri and Alec Baker with their collaborative painting ‘Nganampa Ngura (Our Country)’ (2020) Photo – Meg Hansen, Courtesy of Iwantja Arts.

It’s important to know that Aboriginal artists and art centres are not all one homogenous group – each have their own style, stories, methods, materials and traditions that are unique to their Country and culture, that often cannot be practiced elsewhere. Through the artwork produced in community art centres there is so much to be learned about the spirit, culture and history of our country’s First Nations people.

There are a few things to keep in mind when purchasing artwork by Indigenous artists. Supporting art centres that are Aboriginal owned, operated and governed means that economic autonomy remains within the community. I asked Shilo McNamee, Darwin Aboriginal Art Fair Foundation’s (DAAF Foundation) artistic director, why this is important.

‘Art Centres are the beating heart of Indigenous communities. Supporting art centres ensures that Australia’s Indigenous art sector continues to flourish and excel’, she says. ‘The economic independence of communities helps ensure that people can continue to live on their homelands, resulting in the preservation of traditional practices, ceremonies, language, art and spirituality.’

Another important thing to look out for is that the art centre (or anywhere you are purchasing Aboriginal artwork from!) is a signatory of the Indigenous Art Code (IartC). This is a code of conduct (the Code) that art dealers, art centres and galleries can join to demonstrate their commitment to fair and ethical dealings when working with Indigenous artists. When art centres become signatories of the IartC, they are considered Dealer Members. ‘These businesses are committed to the fair and ethical trade with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander artists, and transparency in the promotion or sale of artwork’, says Gabrielle Sullivan, CEO of the Indigenous Art Code. ‘Dealer Memberships signifies a commitment to act fairly, honestly, professionally and in good conscience in all direct or indirect dealings with artists.’ Members of the IartC will generally display a logo on their website. You can read more about the IartC’s recommendations for buying ethically here.

As far as what percentage of an artwork purchase goes directly back to the artists, DAAF’s Executive Director Claire Summers notes an industry standard as guideline. ‘Art centres have systems in place to ensure artists are paid ethically. It is an industry standard for artists to receive 60 per cent of the sale price, with 40 per cent returning to the Art Centres, to continue their important work in the community’, she says.

You should also expect to receive a Certificate of Authenticity (CoA) with artwork purchases over $250.

Now you’re equipped with the information to make an ethical purchase from an art centre – WHERE TO START? Many art centres have great websites and Instagram pages where you can learn more about the artists, their Country and their practice, and shop their artwork online. The Darwin Aboriginal Art Fair – who return 100% of all sales directly to the participating artists and art centres – has recently announced they will be going online this year from August 6th – 11th (check out their list of all 75 participating art centres and register for early access here), and the annual Tarnanthi Festival in South Australia has a great online portal for navigating their Art Fair’s participating art centres here.

To get you going, we’ve put together a list of 15 art centres that are Aboriginal owned and operated, signatories of the Indigenous Art Code, and showcase a diverse range of the incredible work being produced by artists of the world’s oldest living culture.

Please note this is by no means an exhaustive list – according to the IartC, there are over 60 Aboriginal and/or Torres Strait Islander-owned art centres who are members of the IartC! This is a place to start – we encourage you to keep looking, learning, supporting and celebrating!

Left: Betty Muffler with her painting ‘Ngangkari Ngura’ (2020). Right: Eric Barney with his painting ‘Ngura (Country)’ (2020). Photo – Meg Hansen, Courtesy of Iwantja Arts.

Tiger Yaltangki with his painting ‘Self Portrait’ (2020). Photo – Meg Hansen, Courtesy of Iwantja Arts.

Iwantja Arts

Iwantja Arts is located in the rocky, desert country of Indulkana Community on the Anangu Pitjantjatjara Yankunytjatjara (APY) Lands in the remote north-west of South Australia. Founded in the 1980s by respected Anangu artists and community leaders Alec Baker and Sadie Singer, Iwantja Arts now supports the artistic careers of over 40 predominantly Yankunytjatjara artist members, providing access to artistic and professional development.

Many renowned artists have been nurtured and supported at Iwantja Arts, including Sulman Prize-winning Kaylene Whiskey and Vincent Namatjira, who became the first Aboriginal artist to win the Archibald Prize in 2020.

Artist Vicki Cullinan says, ‘The Iwantja art centre is the most important place in our community. It’s a place where everyone comes together, young and old. It’s really special. Families are working together. A lot of times people are singing inma (cultural songs) while they work. Iwantja Arts is a place where people can work to make money for their families. Everyone needs a job and working as artists means that we are also keeping our culture strong and passing on important knowledge to the next generations.’

Visit the Iwantja Arts online store here and follow them on Instagram here. 

Left: ‘Iwantja Tjukitji (Iwantja Soakage)’ by Julie Yatjitja of Iwantja Arts. Right: Leah Brady, at the APY Studio in Adelaide.

Left: Nyunmiti Burton in front of her painting at APY Gallery Adelaide. Right: ‘Kapi Tjukula’ by Yaritji Heffernan.

‘Wanampi Tjukurpa’ by Kukika Adamson.

Artwork by Sharon Adamson of Tjala Arts.

APY Gallery

The Anangu Pitjantjatjara Yankunytjatjar (APY) Centre Collective is a group of 11 Indigenous owned and governed enterprises. The APY Galleries in Adelaide and Sydney are run by APY Art Centre Collective, creating a platform to exhibit and celebrate the work of young and emerging APY Artists.

The Anangu Pitjantjatjara Yankunytjatjara Lands (APY Lands) are located in remote Central Australia. The galleries represents the work  of seven art centres – Mimili Maku Arts, Tjungu Palya, Ninuku Arts, Tjala Arts, Iwantja Arts, Kaltjiti Arts, and the Tjanpi Desert Weavers – facilitating sales and marketing the work of over 500 Indigenous artists. APY Art Centres are powerful places, and vital to the community.

The APY Galleries showcases artists working across a wide range of mediums from painting, traditional punu (wood) carving, weaving, textiles, new media and digital photography. These emerging young artists have watched, listened and learned from their grandparents, the senior men and women of the APY Lands.

Visit the APY Gallery online store here and follow them on Instagram here. 

Epic woven hat by Doreen Djorlom of Marrawuddi Art Centre. Photo – courtesy of Marrawuddi Art Centre.

Weaving by Melba Gunjarrwanga of Marrawuddi Art Centre. Photo – Marrawuddi Art Centre.

Amy Namarnyilk and her partner Rodney, with Amy’s incredible weavings! All hand woven with pandanus, which have been collected and dyed with natural dyes. Photo – courtesy of Marrawuddi Art Centre.

Patsy Kelly and her sensational Marebu! Photo – courtesy of Marrawuddi Art Centre.

Painting by Robert Namarnyilk of Marrawuddi Art Centre.

Marrawuddi Arts Centre

Marrawuddi Arts & Culture is located in the heart of the Kakadu National Park and works with over 400 artists from the Kakadu and West Arnhem region. Marrawuddi is a vibrant community hub providing working space for artists, stunning artworks for tourists to view and purchase and excellent coffee for everyone. Recently relocated to a stunningly renovated space right in the town of Jabiru, Marrawuddi is the first business to secure a lease under the post-mining plans for of Jabiru. The town was handed back to the Mirarr traditional owners in June 2021 as part of the long-awaited transition away from imposed uranium mining.

Artists at Marrawuddi practice painting methods that draw on traditions used for thousands of years. Using manyilk (sedge grass) and ochre, artists create patterns called rarrk, commonly known as cross hatching. Contemporary art methods such as screen printing and fine art painting are also practiced here, and the daluk (women) of Kakadu and West Arnhem also create incredible pandanus fibre art. Alycia Marrday of Marrawuddi Arts & Culture is a finalist in the Handcrafted category of the 2021 TDF Design Awards!

Marrawuddi is owned and controlled by the Mirarr clan through their representative organisation the Gundjeihmi Aboriginal Corporation (GAC).

Mirrar Traditional Owner Simon Mudjandi said at the opening of Marrawuddi’s bright new location in 2020, ‘Today is the start of a new and exciting chapter for Jabiru and Kakadu. With the opening of the new Marrawuddi Arts Centre, Jabiru’s transition from mining town to an Aboriginal owned community centre and tourism hub really begins.’

Visit the Marrawuddi online store here and follow them on Instagram here. 

Artwork by Gwenneth Blitner of Ngukurr Arts. Image – courtesy of Ngurkurr Arts.

Gwenneth Blitner at work! Photo – courtesy of Ngukurr Arts.

‘Crayfish’ by Wally Wilfred Ḏakawa of Ngukurr Arts. Image – courtesy of Ngurkurr Arts.

‘Station Life’ by Jill Daniels of Ngukurr Arts. Image – courtesy of Ngurkurr Arts.

Ngukurr Arts

Ngukurr Art Centre is positioned by the banks of Roper River, at the south-eastern most cusp of Arnhem Land. The Art Centre, much like Ngukurr (which means ‘place of many stories’), is abundant with diverse histories, traditions and stories – bringing together many different clans and language groups. The community is home to Ngalakgan, Alawa, Mangarrayi, Ngandi, Marra, Warndarrang, Nunggubuyu, Ritharrngu-Wägilak and Rembarrnga, known collectively as Yugul Mangi (meaning ‘all of us together’). Here, the artists draw from personal history, cultural memory, Ancestral knowledge, ceremonial responsibilities and varied artistic influences, experimenting with colour, form and representation.

‘Melabat plenti langgus mob bat melabat bin migim wan pipurl. Dismob ting migim melabat strongbala,’ says senior culture man 78-year-old Walter Kolbong Rogers. Translating from Roper Kriol he says: ‘We are many language groups, but we came together and now we are one people. This art makes us strong.’

Visit the Ngukurr Arts online store here and follow them on Instagram here. 

‘Wantili’ by Cyril Whyoulter of Martumili Artists. Image – courtesy of Martumili Artists.

‘Parnngurr Community’ by Bugai Whyoulter of Martumili Artists. Image – courtesy of Martumili Artists.

Martumili artists Elizabeth Toby and Lorna Linmurra. Photo – Kate Shanasy.

Left: Martumili artists painting at the art centre. Right: Artist Judith Anya Samson. Photo – Kate Shanasy.

From Left to right: ‘Untitled’ by Ivy Bidu, Untitled by Bugai Whyoulter, Nyurnma by Muuki Taylor of Martumili Artists. Images – courtesy of Martumili Artists.

Martumili Artists

Martumili Artists was established by Martu people living in the communities of Parnpajinya (Newman), Jigalong, Parnngurr, Punmu, Kunawarritji, Irrungadji and Warralong. The artists and their families are the traditional custodians of vast stretches of the Great Sandy, Little Sandy and Gibson Deserts as well as the Karlamilyi (Rudall River) area.

Bright, bold and expressive art making represents the exuberant personalities of the Martu people.

Younger Martu artists typically begin painting with their parents, grandparents and extended family, fostering an organic process of learning – not only about painting techniques, but also specific locations, family histories, traditional ways of life, bush tucker and Jukurrpa (Dreaming).

In this year’s Vivid festival in Sydney (postponed to September this year), eight Martumili artists will have their work light up the sails of the Sydney Opera House, bringing to life their 2013 collaborative artwork ‘Yarrkalpa (Hunting Ground), Parnngurr Area’!

Artist Corban Clause Williams of Martumili talks of the transfer of cultural knowledge from senior Martu artists to the younger generation: ‘The old people, they sit down and paint and tell stories of the old days, and we listen and learn.’

Visit the Martumili online store here and follow them on Instagram here. 

Pirrnpirrnga – Desert Bore by Ann Lane Nee Dixon of Ikuntji Artists. Photo – courtesy of Ikuntji Artists.

Artist Eunice Napanangka Jack working on a painting for a show. Photo – courtesy of Inkuntji Artists.

An Ikuntji artist working. Photo – courtesy of Inkuntji Artists.

Sheraldeen Marshall modelling pieces from the beautiful Inkuntji Artists x Publisher Textile collection! Photo – Christian Koch

Ikuntji Artists

Founded in 1992, Ikuntji Artists was the first art centre established by women in the Western Desert Art Movement.

Situated in the community of Haasts Bluff (Ikuntji) in Central Australia, which has a population of around 150 people, Inkuntji Artists has a board of seven Indigenous directors all of whom live and work locally.

Known also for their textile designs, recently Inkuntji have collaborated with Publisher Textiles on a clothing collection featuring the bold textile designs by artists Keturah Zimran, Mavis Nampitjinpa Marks, Eunice Napanangka Jack, Lisa Multa and Leonie Kamutu the collection shortlisted in the Textile Design category for the TDF Design Awards!

Artist and textile designer Keturah Zimran says, ‘I feel really proud of myself and my kids, seeing the paintings on the clothes. My dream is to keep doing the paintings, to keep going..… so I can teach my grandkids.’

Visit the Inkuntji Artists online store here and follow them on Instagram here. 

Left: Ngiya Murrakupupuni by Dino Wilson of Jilamara Arts. Right: Timothy Cook with his painting Kulama and his Country Mananowmi in the distance, 2021. Photo – Will Heatcote for Jilamara Arts

Left: Ngiya Murrakupupuni by Michelle Woody Minnapinni of Jilamara Arts. Right: Pedro Wonaeamirri with his Tutini for NIRIN BoS, 2020. Photo – Will Heathcote for Jilamara Arts

Jilamara Arts + Crafts Association

Located in the community of Milikapiti on the north coast of Melville Island (off the coast of the Northern Territory), Jilamara Arts + Crafts Assoication represents Tiwi art from up to 60 local artists. Established in 1989, they are highly respected for work based on jilamara (body paint design), Tiwi creation stories and unique island ceremonies such as Kulama and Pukumani.

The Tiwi Islands have been separated from mainland Australia for at least 3000 years, leading to the development of regionally distinct creative practices.

Jilamara Arts and Crafts is fully owned and governed by Tiwi artists from the Milikapiti community, led by an Executive Committee of nine elected Tiwi directors.

‘We live on a remote community. It is time for us to be seen and heard. We want people to recognise how strong our culture is. Glimpse how beautiful and complex our culture is, our families, our counties, our history, our future. We adapt, we evolve, we change, we create as we write into the future’, says artist Colin Heenan-Puruntatameri.

Visit the Jilamara online store here and follow them on Instagram here. 

Left: Weaving by Evonne Munuyngu of Bula’bula Arts. Right: Banda (Long Neck) by Roy Burnyila of Bula’bula Arts

Left to right: Collecting for weaving, Weavings by Janice Djupuduwuy and Julie Djulibing Malibirr of Bula’bula Arts.

Bula’bula Arts

Based in the Yolgnu community of Ramingining in central Arnhem land, Bula’bula is an arts centre supporting 150 artists from the town and surrounding art stations. The centre’s online store sells bark and canvas paintings depicting stories of Yolgnu culture in ochre, white clay and charcoal; as well as weavings and fibre art woven from locally harvested materials such as pandanus, sand palm and kurrajong bark stained with natural dyes made from fruits, roots and leaves.

Visit the Bula’Bula Arts online store here and follow them on Instagram here. 

Artwork by Johnny Warrkatja Gapuwiyak Culture and Arts. Image – courtesy of Gapuwiyak Culture and Arts.

Artwork by Johnny Warrkatja of Gapuwiyak Culture and Arts. Image – courtesy of Gapuwiyak Culture and Arts.

Gapuwiyak Culture And Arts

Gapuwiyak Culture and Arts is a remote Art Centre in east Arnhemland. There are eighteen clans in this region, each with their own interconnected clan estates, songs, patterns and designs.

The Art Centre is owned by Yolŋu members, have a Yolŋu Board, and employ a manager and arts workers, and supports over 100 artists from Gapuwiyak and surrounding homelands.

Artist Jason Marrkula is a Traditional Owner for the Gapuwiyak tribe and says ‘I like to share my culture with people through my art or by taking them to my land. I share my dreams, my stories with my mind and with my heart so people can learn about the land, the birds, the nature and our culture. This is really important for me.’

Visit the Gapuwiyak online store here and follow them on Instagram here. 

‘Untitled’ by Mulyatingki Marney and Nancy Nyanjilpayi of Spinifex Hill Artists.

‘Untitled’ by Nyangulya Katie Nalgood of Spinifex Hill Studio.

‘Wantili’ by Country Ngamaru Ngamaru Bidu of Spinifex Hill Studio.

‘Jarntinti’ by Nyanglpayi Nancy Chapman of Spinifex Hill Studio.

Left: ‘Untitled’ by Doreen Chapman of Spinifex Hill Studio. Right: ‘Untitled’ by Selena Brown of Spinifex Hill Studio.

Spinifex Hill

Spinifex Hill Studio stands on Kariyarra Country in the Pilbara region of Western Australia. It is home to one of the youngest Aboriginal art collectives in the north-west of Australia, Spinifex Hill Artists.

Over 100 emerging, mid-career and established artists make regular use of the Studio facilities, with a primary focus on contemporary acrylic painting in bright, confident colours. These are artists from many different language groups, including Kariyarra, Banyjima, Mangala, Manyjiljarra, Martu, Noongar, Nyangumarta, Nyamal, Nyiyarparli, Walmajarri, Warnman, Yamatji, Yindjibarndi.

Spinifex Hill differs from others in this list in that it is managed by FORM, a Western Australian non-profit cultural organisation. The Studio, the Spinifex Hill Artists, and FORM’s Pilbara-programming is supported through a long-term partnership between FORM and BHP.

After 8 months in construction, Spinifex Hill has just celebrated the opening of a brand new, beautiful Project Space with a new group exhibition, Where We Go to Paint (you can view the catalogue here).

Spinifex Hill Artist Maggie Green (stay tuned for our TDF Collect exhibition with Maggie later this year!) says, ‘We do painting good here. Everyone coming here for painting.’

Visit the Spinifex Hill online store here and follow them on Instagram here. 

A woven piece by Numbulwar Numburindi artists. Photo – courtesy of Numbulwar Numburindi.

A woven piece by Numbulwar Numburindi artists. Photo – courtesy of Numbulwar Numburindi.

Photo – courtesy of Numbulwar Numburindi artists.

Ladies with pandanus. Photo – courtesy of Numbulwar Numburindi artists.

Woven pieces by Numbulwar Numburindi artists. Photo – courtesy of Numbulwar Numburindi.

Numbulwar Numburindi Arts

Numbulwar Numburindi Arts (NNA) was established in 2019, and is Numbulwar’s first art centre. It is Located on the Rose River on the western coast of the Gulf of Carpentaria (Northern Territory).

Here, artists combine naturally-dyed and locally-harvested pandanus with bright and bold ghost nets, abandoned fishing nets retrieved from Numbulwar’s shorelines. By harvesting ghost nets, the artists perform a modern act of caring for Country, and use the found materials to create intricate wulbung (baskets) and yir (dilly bags).

NNA IS 100% owned and and controlled by the Numburindi people, and employs Numburindi arts workers in the daily running of the Centre

Artist Lillian Joshua explains a little more of the collection of the nets used in NNA works: ‘My son is a sea ranger. He picks the ghost nets up and brings them to the old ladies to use with their weaving, saving marine life, as they are dangerous for animals like turtles and seals.’

Visit the Numbulwar Numburindi Arts online store here and follow them on Instagram here. 

Left: Cynthia Burke on Country, Right: Artwork by Cynthia Burke of Maruku Arts.

Artwork by Niningka Lewis of Maruku Arts.

Maruku Arts

For 35 years Maruku has operated as a not-for-profit art and craft corporation across 22 communities in the NPY Lands, serving more than 500 artists. They are 100% owned by Anangu (Aboriginal people of the Pitjantjatjara, Yankunytjatjara and Ngaanyatjara language groups). Maruku Arts is the only organisation concentrating on punu (wood carving) in the Central and Western Desert area.

Maruku, literally means “belonging to black”, today is one of the largest and most successful indigenous owned and operated organisations.

Located at the Mutitjulu Community within the Uluru – Kata Tjuta National Park, it services all the APY Lands communities, the Pitjantjara NT communities, and the Ngaanyatjara communities in Western Australia.

Maruku’s purpose is to keep culture strong and alive for future generations and to make culture accessible in an authentic and enduring way.

Currently, Maruku comprises of a warehouse based in Mutitjulu community and a retail gallery at Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park Cultural Centre. Additional to the retail arm, Maruku offers tours, workshops, demonstrations, traditional ceremonies and exhibitions.

Visit the Maruku online store here and follow them on Instagram here. 

Nora Abbott  in the studio. Photo – courtesy of Tangentyere Artists.

‘Tempe Down, That Country and the Animal that Belong’ by Marjorie ‘Nunga’ Williams, 2020. Image – courtesy of the artist and Tangentyere Artists.

‘When I was Young One’ by Grace Robinya, 2021. Image – courtesy of the artist and Tangentyere Artists.

‘Waterhole inside Palm Valley’ by Joanne Napangardi Wheeler, 2021. Image – courtesy of the artist and Tangentyere Artists

‘Big Puta Puta After Rain’ by Nora Abbott, 2021. Image – courtesy of the artist and Tangentyere Artists

Tangentyere Art Centre

Established in 2005, Tangentyere Artists is an Aboriginal owned and run not-for-profit Art Centre in Mparntwe (Alice Springs). Tangentyere is an Arrernte word that means coming together, working together – which is exactly what they do.

Town Camp Artists communicate stories about their families, identity and lives in their artworks, and their practice aims to highlight the everyday experience of Aboriginal people in Central Australia. They are a hub for art activities across the 18 Town Camps of Mparntwe (Alice Springs), supporting emerging and established Town Camp artists through their studio, outreach program, gallery and online store

Artist April Spencer Napaltjarri says, ‘I love painting, telling stories with friends and family. I love coming here to Tangentyere Art Centre for a day of this, tea, people, canvas. Lots of people say hello! Hello! Happy people!’

Visit the Tangentyere Artists online store here and follow them on Instagram here. 

Left to right: Tjulpus (birds) by Rochelle Ferguson, Tjilkamarta (echidna) by Lisa Armstrong, Papa (dog) by Katrina Tjitayi of Tjanpi Desert Weavers.

Left: Cynthia Burke from Warakurna (WA), 2019. Image by Jade Brockley Courtesy of Tjanpi Desert Weavers. Right: Umutja Toyota Come on Toyota! by Nellie Patterson of Tjanpi Desert Weavers.

Tjanpi Desert Weavers

Tjanpi Desert Weavers (Tjanpi meaning ‘wild grass’) is an award-winning, Indigenous governed and directed social enterprise of the Ngaanyatjarra, Pitjantjatjara and Yankunytjatjara Women’s Council (NPYWC). They empower over 400 Anangu minyma (Aboriginal women) to earn an income and remain in their communities on Country.

Building upon a long history of using natural fibres to make objects for ceremonial and daily use, Tjanpi artists create vibrant sculptures and baskets using native grasses, wool and raffia. In 2020, Tjanpi senior artist Tjunkaya Tapaya OAM won the Handcrafted Category of the TDF Design Awards!

Fibre artist Nyurpaya Kaika-Burton says, ‘Nowadays there are many different ways in which we transmit those ancient stories because we really hold these stories strong… this sculptural way is a whole new other way… we go out into the country to the actual place where these stories take place, where these dreaming tracks move through the country. We go there and we find materials. These sculptural pieces here are filled up with the story from the land.’

Visit the Tjanpi online store here and follow them on Instagram here. 

Left: Nyapanyapa Yunupingu with her family. Right: Artist Nyapanyapa Yunupingu celebrates finishing her huge work Djulpan-Seven Sisters. Photo – courtesy of Buku-Larrŋgay Mulka Centre.

From left to right: Nyapanyapa Yunupingu working on a piece. Wanapa Munuŋgurr with his bark painting depicting his homeland community Wandawuy. Dhambit Munuŋgurr with part of her installation for the NGV Trienniel,

Buku-Larrnggay Mulka

Buku-Larrŋgay Mulka Centre is the Indigenous community controlled art centre of Northeast Arnhem Land. It is located in Yirrkala, a small Aboriginal community on the northeastern tip of the Top End of the Northern Territory, approximately 700km east of Darwin. The art centre has around 20 staff who are primarily Yolŋu, servicing Yirrkala and the approximately twenty-five homeland centres in a 200km radius.

The origins of the Buku-Larrŋgay Mulka Centre can be traced back to the 1960s with renowned artist Narritjin Maymuru, who is counted among the art centre’s main inspirations and founders. Buku-Larrŋgay Mulka Centre consists of two divisions; the Yirrkala Art Centre which represents Yolŋu artists exhibiting and selling contemporary art, and The Mulka Project which acts as a digital production studio and archiving centre incorporating the museum.

Buku-Larrŋgay means,  ‘the feeling on your face as it is struck by the first rays of the sun’, and Mulka means, ‘a sacred but public ceremony.’

Visit the Buku-Larrnggay Mulka Centre online store here and follow them on Instagram here. 

[creativemorningsvancouver]

Join us for next months speaker as we’re thrilled to invite Chris Corrigan to our virtual stage.

Register now.

Chris Corrigan is a principal partner of Harvest Moon Consultants, specializing in participatory process, international facilitation, and strategic thinking in support of organizations and communities tackling complex challenges. 

Corrigan’s formal bio includes info about decades of experience working with governments, not for profits, indigenous communities, and social enterprises, creative dialogue-based tools and processes informed by complexity theory to help leaders and teams make decisions in uncertain contexts.

But mostly Chris Corrigan is just a person who would like to share a pesto recipe with you:

Take a bunch of basil, destem it, place it into a mortar with a few pinches of coarse salt and a couple of peeled garlic cloves and begin grinding it into a paste.

When the leaves are all broken down, add some pine nuts and gently pour in a really good olive oil until the paste has the consistency you’re looking for.

Add a pinch of chilli flakes for a subtle feeling of heat.

That’s the secret. Purists will object, but I’m telling you, give it a try.

How do you define creativity and apply it in your life and career?

Making things I guess. It’s certainly what I have done from a very small age, made drawings, and songs and poems and games and all kinds of things. These days I make conversations and community and I try to make a difference by doing things that have never been done before. It is all creative.

Where do you find your best creative inspiration or energy?

In a few places: the early morning, or being with others. I am an improviser at heart and so I work with offers all around me and when I am creating with others I feel like I’m always at my best.

What’s one piece of creative advice or a tip you wish you’d known as a young person?

Pay more attention to what you have just done. Try to remember the feelings of sweetness and despair instead of just moving on to the next thing. There are so many experiences I’ve forgotten about because they seemed so fleeting at the time, and now I wish I could remember who was there with me and what we actually did.

Who (living or dead) would you most enjoy hearing speak at CreativeMornings? 

Have you ever had any children speak? Would you dare turn the mic over to a 12 year old child? A twelve year old girl ready to kick ass and take names would be an amazing thing to see.

What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?

Quit a full time government job with a baby at home to become a consultant.

What did you learn from your most memorable creative failure?

Usually no one gets hurt.What are you reading these days? Shifu, You’ll Do Anything for a Laugh by Mo Yan, What The Mystics Know by Richard Rohr, Trickster Drift, Eden Robinson

What fact about you would surprise people?

I am a practicing contemplative Christian.

How does your life and career compare to what you envisioned for your future when you were a sixth grader?

At no point did I ever play on the blue line for the Toronto Maple Leafs, so nothing has really worked out. I also didn’t start a band with Brian May and Freddy Mercury.

How would you describe what you do in a single sentence to a stranger?

I help people work together to figure out what to do when they are stuck so that we can make the world a more just place.

What’s the most recent thing you learned (big or small)?

How to move between an Eb melodic minor and an Bb major scale in the same position so as to find some compact soloing lines on A Child is Born.

If you could open a door and go anywhere where would that be?

Right now, it would probably be to the Grey Bruce Highlands in southern Ontario to visit my family.

What keeps you awake at night?

Barred owls on the hunt beneath a full moon and a Pineapple Express lashing the front of my house.

What myths about creativity would you like to set straight?

There are no myths about creativity. It’s all true. Even the myths. Especially the myths.

Who has been the biggest influence on your life? What lessons did that person teach you?

My partner Caitlin. She continually teaches me how to not lose my shit and succumb to anxiety and fear. And every day she reminds me that I am loved.

What are you proudest of in your life?

My two kids, who are young adults now and making their way in a weird world. They love each other and my heart bursts through my chest every time I think about them.

If you could do anything now, what would you do?

End patriarchy, capitalism, and settler-colonialism and watch SOOOO many of my friends fulfill their potential and make the world a better place.

Where was the last place you travelled?

Last air travel was in February 2020 and was a three point tour to Ontario, Columbus Ohio, and Minneapolis, to teach the Art of Hosting and complexity skills to doctors in Ohio and social change activists in the Twin Cities. And to drink whisky with my dad for his birthday.

What music are you listening to these days?*

Lots of jazz standards played on guitar and especially diving into the work of Reg Schwager.

What was the best surprise you’ve experienced so far in life?

Realizing in an instant that I am unconditionally loved.

Where is your favourite place to escape?

There are a few places on Bowen Island, where I live, that are absolutely precious to me.

What was the best advice you were ever given?

If you talk to people about what they know about, they will always tell you the truth. I heard that from Utah Phillips at the Vancouver Folk Festival in 1997 and it fundamentally changed my facilitation practice.

What books made a difference in your life and why?

Not just books? There are many creative artifacts that have been influential in my life. The Tao te Ching was super influential. A painting by Carl Beam called “Columbus Chronicles”, John Coltrane’s “A Love Supreme,” Irish whistle player Mary Bergin’s album “Feadóga Stain,” the midfield prowess of Glenn Hoddle, Nathanial Mackey’s Bedouhin Hornbook. The Facilitator’s Guide to Participatory Decision Making by Sam Kaner. News of the World by Queen. Between the Breaks by Stan Rogers. Leadership and the New Science by Meg Wheatley. The Rez Sisters by Thomson Highway. The Sacrifice by Andrei Tarkovsky. Tsawalk by Umeek. The tifo and creative support of the Vancouver Southsiders and the Swanguardians. Listening for the Heartbeat of God by J. Phillip Newell, Anam Cara by John O'Donohue, Loving What Is by Byron Katie, the leadership artistry of Khelsilem. Each of these, among many others, have ushered my over various thresholds in my life. They are all creative works, some are creative re-imaginings of spirituality, process work, and ways of living.

What practises, rituals, or habits contribute to your creative work?

It’s a combination of the openness and rest that is offered by my meditation practice and the rigour of playing scales on the guitar or forcing myself to write despite my mind’s resistance to being “productive” when I’m feeling dry.

When you get stuck creatively, what is the first thing you do to get unstuck?

Go for a walk.

If you had fifteen extra minutes each day, what would you do with them?

Lie on my back, close my eyes and listen to three pieces of very good music.

What has been one of your biggest Aha! moments in life?

The first time I witnessed a meeting held in Open Space, with 400 people in a room in Whistler in 1995. It completely transformed my facilitation and leadership practice, knowing that a group of people can self-organize action around issues that they care about. I’ve never looked back.

What object would you put in a time capsule that best represents who you are today?

My music library.

What is the one movie or book every creative must see/read? 

You should read a book or seek out the traditional teachings of your place, of where you live, of the traditional territory you inhabit. Those aren’t always written down, but I feel that it is so important to know your place because if you create things that run counter to the place you are living you can perpetuate patterns of harm. Understand who you are, where you are and why you are there.

🎵 This month’s live musical guest is jazz & R&B guitarist, bandleader, and teacher (Teun Schut)[https://www.teunschut.ca].🎶

Originally from Holland, Schut has been playing guitar for five decades, studying and playing jazz, blues, and rock in bands and ensembles. Having toured around the world, Tuen settled in Bowen Island, where he continues to teach, play, and perform.

You don’t want to miss this! Register now.

[profound-boning]

Mr. Novak

@spnabobingo prompt: “traditional” ABO designation roles pairings: destiel word count: 1k tags: no warnings apply, a/b/o, no smut, meg pov, ceo!cas, alpha!cas, omega!dean, submissive behavior, hand feeding, daddy!kink, no actual smut I swear; inspired by this post ao3

Meg loves her job. No, really. Being someone’s personal assistant is like adulting on behalf of another adult. Glorified babysitting with a nice salary and benefits.

Thankfully, Castiel Novak does not need a nanny. What he does need is a trilingual and well-organized schedule-planner, email aficionado, and memo-taker. Especially when the memos are kind of half-mumbled into his first cup of coffee or while staring at a messy spreadsheet. Being the CEO of the biggest international financial enterprise on the market right now means you get to have messy handwriting.

And bedhead, Meg muses every time she sees her boss and wonders about gifting him a hairbrush. Everything else about him is perfect; neatly pressed slacks and shirts, ties always done up impeccably, piercing blue eyes and just the right amount of dark scruff on his sharp jaw.

Okay, yes, he’s hot. Meg’s got eyes. Even though she normally goes for female Alphas only, she’s well aware that her boss ‘call me Mr. Novak’ is extremely good-looking and desirable, if you’re into the super professional Alpha. The traditional type.

The poor guy is constantly fending off advances from the unmated (and sometimes the mated) around the office. He’s lucky to be very happily married to an Omega named Dean. Meg only knows this because of her position as his assistant, writing in notes about appointments for Dean, scheduling time for Castiel to pick something up for Dean, plus the simple photograph from their wedding that rests on his desk. Castiel is extremely professional about it—thankfully. Meg has no interest in watching the hormones fly in her workplace.

Then, one day, Meg gets a page from the doorman that a D. Novak is here. It doesn’t take a genius to make the connection.

She recognizes the green-eyed sandy-haired Omega at once from the photograph. He’s slim with wide eyes and pink lips—every inch the perfect Omega—smiling at her as he steps off the elevator.

“Hi,” Dean greets her politely. “I’m here to see Castiel, just for a minute. He left his lunch at home this morning.”

“All right.” Meg glances at Castiel’s afternoon schedule, which has a two-hour empty window to include his lunch plus a little free time before a conference call with a partner branch in Montreal. “Let me just—”

Suddenly, the door of Castiel’s office bangs open. He stands in the doorway, blue eyes a little wild and nostrils flaring. “Dean?”

“Hi, Alpha.” Dean lowers his chin and flutters his eyelashes prettily at Castiel. Oh, Meg thinks, I see how it is for these two. She just grins and clears her throat.

“Your mate’s here, boss, and you don’t have anything on the calendar until that phone call at three. Enjoy your lunch.”

“Yes, thank you, Meg,” Castiel answers her distractedly. “Ah, Dean, won’t you—?”

Dean nods and moves toward Castiel, perfectly submissive and sweet. Meg watches a big, genuine smile steal over Castiel’s features, the line of his shoulders relaxing slightly as he reaches out to place one hand on the back of his mate’s neck. The door swings shut but the section directly behind Meg’s desk is clear glass, so Meg unabashedly watches them make their way first toward the little sitting area in Castiel’s office but then change course for Castiel’s desk.

The first thing Castiel does is clear a space on the flat surface where he had been working. Next, he takes the lunch box from Dean’s hands and places it there carefully. Then he sits and holds his arms open, palms facing up, smiling when Dean climbs onto his lap.

Castiel is soft around his mate in a way that Meg has never seen. She’s watched Castiel tear into people like Zachariah Sandover, out-do a powerhouse like Abaddon Knight in negotiations and come out unscathed. But with Dean in the room, this Castiel is a marshmallow in an Armani suit.

[ Read the rest on ao3 ]

[podcastcoach]

You Can't Buy An Audience If Your Podcast Sucks

Today we talk about the 1.7 billion dollar mistake that was Quibi and how we can learn from their mistake. We also take a look at the power of follow up questions, and the best place to buy gear. 

Table of Contents

01:22 Your Favorite Podcast - Send in Your Answer 02:56 Now That's A Good Question: Howard Stern and Wolfgang Van Halen 06:35 Join the School of Podcasting 07:33 Lessons From Quibi 13:24 They Blew Their Launch 16:12 Big Name Celebrities 19:02 Make It Easy To Share Your Content 21:05 It's Not the Tech 23:28 Clueless About the Competition 29:49 Who is the Audience? 33:29 The Best Place to Buy Gear: Sweetwater 36:07 Your Audience Awaits Exercise

How to Avoid the 1.7 Billion Dollar Mistake that Was Quibi

Quibi is an over-the-top American short-form streaming platform that generates content for viewing on mobile devices. It was founded in Los Angeles in August 2018 as NewTV by Jeffrey Katzenberg (chairman of Walt Disney Studios from 1984 to 1994) and is led by Meg Whitman ( She is a board member of Procter & Gamble and Dropbox. Whitman was previously president and CEO of Hewlett Packard Enterprise), its CEO.

In 2019 Variety reported that Quibi had secured 100 million dollars in advertising before the service had even launched.

On February 2, 2020, they spent $5.6 million for 30 seconds on an ad in the Super Bowl that was seen by a reported 99.9 million viewers.  That is $18 per person if you round up. This for a service where subscribers can get the service for $5 per month with ads, or $8 per month without them.  That $5.6 million was a drop in the bucket.

The commercial was really stupid and didn't really answer or explain what the heck it was. You just knew it was less than 10 minutes. They explained what is was, but not so much why it was or how you would benefit.

It raised $1.75 billion from investors. It had a variety of shows featuring originals with Jennifer Lopez, Chrissy Teigen, Chance the Rapper, Liam Hemsworth, Sophie Turner, Lena Waithe, Nicole Richie, Reese Witherspoon. Quibi offered a 90-day free trial to those who sign up on its website before April 6. Overall, it plans to release 175 original shows and 8,500 episodes in the first year.

Their lineup has a ton of stars, celebrities, etc

It launched on April 6, 2020. It is set to shut down "on or about" December 1, 2020. December 1 is 239 days. That is $7,322,175.73 a day. Here is my thoughts on why this was such an epic fail.

They Blew Their Launch

When you spend $5.6 million dollars on a Super Bowl ad, they should have an idea what you do and what is in it for them. In the event, the ad inspired people to check out the service (it didn't), you should be able to go check it out and not have to wait four months. Yes, you can build buzz, but for me, I never heard from quibi again.

Putting All Their Faith in Celebrities

Here are some of the names that appear on shows: Jennifer Lopez, Kristen Bell, Nick Jonas, Tracy Morgan, Aaron Rodgers, Yara Shahidi, Gabriel Iglesias, Anthony Davis, Kevin Hart and Karlie Kloss. Cardi B, Chance the Rapper, Dapper Dan, Jay Leno, and Wolfgang Puck (and that's just some).

The people involved had experience Phil Abraham has directed the Sopranos, Madmen, Daredevil, Ozark.

No Compelling Content

Yet, there was no breakout show that inspired the people who had found Quibi to tell a friend about Quibi. Nobody was compelled to tell a friend. They did recaps of the previous days news or sports updates. WOW what revolutionary content!

They Made it Hard To Share

According to Media Analyst Josh Consine there was no sharing capability (no screenshots) which limited your ability to go viral. When it first launched you could only watch it on your phone. There were no apps, not Fire TV, Chromecast. They made it "hard" to consume. They took away choices from the consumer.

They Put Their Faith in the Tech

One thing that set them apart was a feature called Turnstyle. This meant that if you rotate the phone horizontal to verticle, you would get a different camera angle. Neat? Sure. Something so cool I had to tell my friends? Apparently not as I had never heard of it until I started researching how you blow 1.7 billion and lose. In a nutshell, Turnstyle served you two video streams simultaneously and “stitches them together” with a single audio track.

Since we're talking about the Tech, a company sued Quibi shortly after their launch company called Eko alleged that Quibi stole the technology after Eko demoed it to employees of the company, including founder and chairman Jeffrey Katzenberg. Even when you have billions in funding, lawsuits are expensive.

Clueless About the Competition

They were charging $5/$8 a month for new content. Look at Disney, Netflix, Hul. While they have original content, they all have old favorites as well. They also have a way to add more than one person under your account (so when your kids login under your account your recommendations don't all turn into cartoons). This was not the case to Quibi. It figured each person was watching on their phone. One person per account. This gets expensive and now anyone who wants to see what you're talking about has to use your phone.

It is reported that CEO Whitman repeatedly said "We're not competing with Netflix." Think about that one for a minute. That's like a radio station saying, "All of our songs are under four minutes long. We don't compete with other stations."

Lack Of Focus Group?

In one article that was published right after they launched it stated, "Quibi’s executives have hinted that the company will deliver on a TV experience if customer feedback and data warrant it. " Well they did add support for Apple's airplay and Chromecast, but at the expense of the Turnstyle technology. They did release an app for Roku and Fire TV - the day before they announced were closing down.

It seemed like they didn't understand how people used their phones or consumed content.

Did they think that because the average length of a YouTube video is 11 minutes that making "short" videos would be the key? Meanwhile, TikTok was taking off with all sorts of celebrities making their own channels. TikTok is free. Did Quibi follow the Facebook strategy and buy them or "borrow features" and add them to their platform? No. They were doing something different and nobody cared.

They Didn't Answer the Number Question: WHO IS YOUR AUDIENCE

The idea was people could watch these short clips while waiting in line, or on the bus. When you think of people consuming content on their phone you might think it would be younger people. Yet you're trying to attract those people with Steven Spielberg and Jay Leno? Sure Cardi B appeared in an episode, but they needed to define. If the content is for busy people, who are the busy people and what do they want to watch?

According to an article in Forbes, Katzenberg and Whitman said, "We created a new form of mobile-first premium storytelling."

They did. But the stories weren't any good.

Now That's a Good Question

02:56  Today we listen to Howard Stern ask a great follow-up question to Wolfgang Van Halen. While he started off with a yes/no question, but then asked a few follow-up questions lead to the information you can't get anyplace else, and listen to how Howard shuts up and lets Wolfgang wrestle with a potentially uncomfortable topic. 

Sweetwater is My New Favorite Place to Order Gear

33:29 My co-host for Ask the Podcast Coach Jim Collison ordered something from Sweetwater and told me about their INSANE customer service. I recently saw where they were one of the few people to have the new Zoom Podtrak P4 IN STOCK and I see what he means. I was called to let me know my order had shipped, and to let me know if I had any issues I could call them. So here is why I think they are the best:

Prices are just as good (and in some cases better) than Amazon

Free shipping (even on small stuff)

Built-in two-year warranty 

Free tech support 

Payment plans available if needed.

My goal is to build more of a relationship with Sweetwater (as I have a dedicated rep) which should keep me in touch with podcasting technology going forward. In full disclosure, I earn a referral reward (but that's why I ordered something as I wanted to see for myself) 

Your Audience Awaits Exercise

I'm listening to the book Unhackable: The 30-Day Elixir for Creating Flawless Ideas, Leveraging Superhuman Focus, and Achieving Optimal Performance Through Flow its a very interesting book that you can listen/read to one chapter per day. The one exercise was to write yourself an email from your future audience as is these people who are waiting for you to start your show. SO MANY TIMES I hear people worried about having trolls or people say negative things. I say, What about ALL THE POSITIVE that could happen?

Think of going to your inbox and see an email with the title, "Just wanted to say Thank you." You open it and it starts, "Hello, I just wanted to reach out. You may not believe this but due to your podcast.... 

and the listener explains how you made them feel. How they no longer felt alone. How they were taken to a place where the stress of work, life, and more melted away. 

This could happen. But your podcast can't help people if you don't start your podcast. You can't update a show that doesn't exist. Please let me help you, as your audience is waiting. 

Check out this episode!

[redhatmeg]

Shran: I would have to kill you. You’re my friend.

Me: HE FINALLY SAID IT! MY POOR ANDORIAN BABY!