#metronomic irregularity

[chvoswxtch]

revenge

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader x frank castle

summary: matt may have won the battle, but frank wins the war.

warnings: all of them. every single one of them. swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

a/n: there's not enough brat taming frank, especially in terms of frank brat taming matt, and I took that personally. this is the last installment in this accidental little mini series, and it's pure filth. enjoy, xoxo.

word count: 1.7k

[part one: jealousy] [part two: forgiveness]

The second that Matt pulled Frank in by the back of his neck, Frank’s plump lips wrapped around your clit and he began to suck fervently. The sudden sensation had you nearly jumping off Matt’s lap, and if it weren’t for his strong hands holding you forcefully in place with his blunt nails digging into your hips, you wouldn’t have even been able to sit up right any longer.

The feeling of Frank’s wide, warm tongue flicking over your clit back and forth repeatedly like a metronome while Matt stretched out your pussy with his thick cock at a legato tempo was almost too much to handle. Frank aided in keeping your legs spread wide open with his broad shoulders nestled between your thighs, preventing them from closing even an inch. Matt groaned lowly into your ear every time Frank’s greedy tongue swiped over his sensitive cock while he devoured your pussy. His large nose rubbed against your clit deliciously as his tongue teased Matt’s sensitive balls, paying repentance to you both simultaneously on his knees for his previous teasing actions. 

You had been blissfully, but painfully edged by them both, and you weren’t going to last another minute. From Frank’s skilled fingers to Matt’s sinful mouth, and now the combination of Frank’s ravenous tongue and Matt’s unrelenting cock…you weren’t seconds from combusting. Matt had been ready to come in his office earlier just from hearing the way Frank had touched you over the phone, and you knew he was just as close as you were. Matt was moaning a string of curses and prayers into your ear, leaving marks on your waist with his iron grip, and the sloppy rhythm of his hips pistoning upwards into your own chaotically indicated his own fuse was about to detonate.

Frank’s teeth gently grazing over your overstimulated clit started the chain reaction of fireworks that abruptly exploded within you and Matt both. Your fingers tugged roughly at Frank’s unruly ebony waves as you bucked your hips against his face, a cacophony of moans leaving your lips that were directed at the Heavens as your head fell back against Matt’s shoulder. While you rode out your high against Frank’s face, Matt buried his face into your neck and bit down on your flesh sharply while gripping onto your throat, a feral grunt echoing in your ears as he emptied his pent up arousal deep within you with irregular spasmodic thrusts.

The apartment was silent apart from the sound of you and Matt panting heavily, and while the two of you were basking in the afterglow of gratification, Frank had risen to his feet with a renewed sense of vigor. 

Because if there was one thing that fueled Frank Castle more than anything in this world, it was revenge.

The sharp sound of leather snapping pulled you and Matt out of your euphoric trance, and your eyes widened in a mixture of shock and awe seeing that Frank had ripped his own belt apart to free his hands. Frank swiftly reached out to grab you by your waist to remove you from Matt’s lap, and you winced slightly at the sudden motion and loss of contact when he pulled you off Matt’s softened cock.

“Sorry darlin’, ‘scuse me a minute.”

His voice was gruff while he gently set you down on the opposite side of the couch, laced with a dangerously low timbre that indicated there was no room for an argument. He had never used that particular tone with you, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw a flash of recognition on Matt’s face, and he instantly tensed up. His half-lidded hazel eyes that had been glossed over with rapture were now wide open and shining clear with apprehension.

“Frank-”

Matt’s desperate plea was quickly caught off by Frank’s large hand darting out to grab Matt by his throat. Frank had Matt at a complete disadvantage, and he knew it. While Matt was still coming down from his high and depleted of the energy he had used in fucking you to prove a point, Frank was running off pure adrenaline and ready to prove one of his own.

“If I had a fuckin’ attitude comin’ home it’s cause you’re an impatient and selfish fucker, Red. You get her to yourself all the goddamn time, and I can’t get twelve hours alone with her without you showin’ your fuckin’ ass.”

While Frank moved his hand up to yank Matt’s head back forcefully by gripping onto his hair, Matt let out a soft grunt that was layered with arousal and a twinge of displeasure. You watched with an almost unhinged jaw as Frank freed his fully erect cock from his jeans and guided himself past Matt’s welcoming lips. The three of you seemed to moan in unison; Frank from finally getting some relief, Matt from the taste of Frank and the thrill of being used, and you from the delectable sight in front of you.

“Maybe everytime I come home, I need to make sure you got a taste of my cock in that fuckin’ bratty mouth of yours so you’ll remember who the fuck you’re s’posed to be sharin’ with, yeah?”

Matt only moaned around Frank’s thick cock in response. Frank didn’t give Matt any time at all to protest or adjust to having Frank’s cock practically shoved down his throat, and quickly began to fuck Matt’s face at a brutal pace. The sounds coming from both of them were downright pornographic, and it made you wet all over again. Frank’s full brows were knit slightly in concentration as he continued to harshly grip onto Matt’s hair, and his plump lips were parted in pleasure while he watched intently as Matt sucked his cock with a sense of urgency.

“Ain’t runnin’ that fuckin’ mouth now, are ya? ‘Bout time you put it to good use.”

Your hand snaked its way between your thighs of its own accord, and you began to slowly tease your clit as you watched Frank dominate Matt. He didn’t do it often, but when he did, God it was a sight to behold. Matt was usually the more dominant of the two, especially when it came to you. There were rare times Frank let himself lose control, but for the most part, he was mostly gentle. Still, it always excited you when you got to witness even a tiny fragment of why they called him the Punisher. Right now he was fucking Matt’s face with a vegeance, and you were steadily approaching your second orgasm of the night as you touched yourself to the incredible show in happening right before your eyes.

When Matt’s hand eagerly fisted around his cock, which was now fully erect again, Frank smacked his wrist away with a grunt, and he gripped at Matt’s throat with his free hand.

“What’d I say earlier, huh? No touchin’. Pull that shit again, and I’ll tie your ass up and make sure you can’t sit down for a fuckin’ week, altar boy.”

The sound of Matt whimpering around Frank’s cock made you moan in response, and Frank’s eyes suddenly snapped in your direction. His features that were hardened with retribution instantly softened into pure lust at the view of you with your legs spread and fingers toying with your soaked pussy. His tongue quickly darted out to wet his plump lips, and he released his grip on Matt’s throat to reach for you. 

“C’mere, baby. Bring that pretty pussy over here and lemme finish what I started ‘fore this asshole interrupted earlier.”

In a flash you were scrambling onto your knees, moaning at the taste of yourself lingering on Frank’s lips when he leaned in to capture your mouth in a heated kiss. While his large hand found its home between your legs and two of his thick fingers slipped easily into your cunt, his thumb rubbed purposeful circles over your clit, and his tongue slipped past your lips like he wanted to ravage you whole. Frank kept his rough grip on Matt’s hair, but he steadied his hips in favor of letting Matt suck him off at his own pace while Frank focused on fingering your needy cunt. 

Your head was spinning from the way Frank kissed you, like he was stealing the very essence of life right from your lungs. It was messy and frantic the way your tongues and teeth collided, and you grabbed onto the back of his neck and gripped onto his broad shoulder for support, moaning into his mouth as his hand worked expertly between your legs. 

Frank had said Matt couldn’t touch himself, but he never said that you couldn’t touch Matt, and he didn’t make a move to stop you as you blindly reached for Matt’s impatient cock. Matt instinctively grabbed onto your wrist and guided your hand towards his hardened cock, and the muffled moan of gratitude he let out from the contact made Frank shudder against you both. The three of you worked in tandem to bring the other to the peak of pleasure, and it didn’t take much longer for you all to collectively erupt into unmitigated elation.

Pulling his spent cock from Matt’s mouth, Frank fell back onto the couch between you two, putting his arms around both of your shoulders to pull you and Matt in towards his large body as you all attempted to catch your breath. When Frank pressed a soft kiss to the top of yours and Matt’s heads, your eyes fluttered open slowly, and you couldn’t help but let out a quiet amused laugh at the sight of both your boyfriends sitting on the couch together with their pants around their ankles. 

After a few moments of silence, Frank cleared his throat and relaxed back further into the cushions, letting his head fall back against the back of the couch.

“So, what’s for lunch?”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @kdogreads @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts

[nobrashfestivity]

Eva Hesse, Metronomic Irregularity I, 1966 painted wood, metal, cotton, wire 12"x18"x1"

[uwabbittuwabbit]

can we be casual now? pecco/luca this goes out to all my girlies with stress acne in these trying times </3 anyways i wrote this instead of studying for finals <3 pls enjoy!

Luca pulls his helmet off, scrubbing at the film of sweat on his face with the palm of his gloved hand, and tries not to let the fatigue settle back in too deeply to his bones. It had all blown off of him on track; the speed tearing it all away from him until nothing was there but for the weight of the bike underneath him, how it moved, he couldn't even feel the weight of the helmet on his head, how that and his gloves and boots boxed him in. Luca never had a problem with it before. He was used to working within limits, that had been his whole life--that the limits were the issue half of the time, and as for the rest it could be solved in terms of those declinations. Now though, everything was wrong. nothing could truly describe the sheer, staggering scope of malfeasance inherent to the Honda bike; Luca had seen Marquez and Joan wrangle the machine around track like it was a wild animal, yes, and lose, horrifyingly, but to ride it was an altogether different thing. Being slow in the straights was the least of its problems. What was really fucking Luca over was the fact that it never reacted in the same way as he shifted his weight to lean into a corner, the metronome of his person falling into an irregular tempo; arrhythmia. now when he went racing whatever overwhelmed him felt too big for his leathers and helmet to contain, it was as if he would explode outwards from the sheer feeling of it all. Everything about him hurt now. His whole body ached as it never had before on the Ducati, from trying to squeeze himself onto a bike that was too small for him. There was also the sharper pain from being thrown off the bike, and the blunter one that came from the refusal. Why can't you be nice to yourself, Luca wants to tell the bike once he's back in the garage, eyes still stinging with the suddenness of being thrown, the wheeling strobe of the sun. Watching as the mangled body of his machine is pushed back and propped up yet again, a macabre taxidermy, Frankenstein's monster from being patched up and revived so many times. It's--everything's a little bit too much right now. He does want to understand, which is why he went to Honda in the first place, but now here he is on the dirt track of the ranch, trying to figure out how to stop the situation from sliding out under him so quickly.

Luca sighs. He's breaking out into pimples again, something he thought should've stopped when he stepped into adulthood. Growing pains. There's nothing to be done about anymore so he strikes the kickstand back, is about to maneuver the bike in the direction of the garages when someone wheels up next to him. Luca turns and is surprised to see Pecco, the banner-red of his bike a figurehead. "I heard you were on track all day", he says, flipping up his goggles, and Luca does the same in greeting. "Yeah", Luca replies, "I was just about to go back". He shrugs a shoulder in the direction of the main complex. Nobody else is there. It's just him and Pecco, marauded in this river of dirt with the sun spilling the last of its brilliance across the valley. Everything is stained champagne bright, the light catching in Pecco's eyelashes the same way as it had, what seemed like eons ago. The memory hits like a migraine. Suddenly, appallingly, Pecco had become another one of Luca's bruises, one that was always tender because he poked at it constantly. It wasn't possible, to have what he wanted. They were both on their separate ways as factory riders: Pecco with defending his title, and Luca maybe hoping to be good enough for one point in the championship. There was no going back to what it was before, those days where Pecco and he could be casual; they had both been Ducati riders, they were all of friends. But it was different now. He had missed his chance, right here at the ranch where they had self seriously swapped critiques on each other's riding form; a slap of the shoulder, when one of them fell too deep into their own thought, laughter as a form of catch and receive. Pecco could no longer understand him like that anymore because Luca didn't understand himself now, and it was so strange and confusing, to have no one else as your guide. "How about a few more rounds?" Pecco asks. He's still there, one foot planted on the ground, the red of his bike still raw, gleaming. "Of course," he backtracks, "if you're up for it". Even after two world championships he's still, absurdly, bad at asking for things, and Luca feels this crazy exuberance well up inside his body. It's almost silly, really, how he would do anything for him. "Well", he says, turning the bike back towards the track: "if you say so champ". At that Pecco laughs, embarrassed. "You of all people should know not to call me that, cheap bastard", he replies. "Now you'll have to beat me, to keep my ego in check". "Try me", Luca returns, wiggling a bit closer to Pecco to shoulder check him. "I've been here all day, I have all the tricks". "You'll have to catch me first", Pecco says, then, he takes off in a cloud of dust, a blaze of red into the sunset. Luca curses; he hadn't even noticed Pecco flipping his goggles down. Pushing off he feels the bike wobble underneath him as he enters the track in pursuit, the wheels righting once he's exited the corner. This then, is familiar. So fine. If Pecco couldn't tell him how to ride anymore Luca could still be that for him, even as he lost more and more of himself to his goddamned dream. He'll stay, even when he had left all else behind. He'll stay.

[garadinervi]

Eva Hesse: Metronomic Irregularity Series, Essay by Daniela Salvioni, Stein Gladstone, New York, NY, [opening April 27], 1991 [Leo de Goede Books]

[dustedmagazine]

Vague Plot — Crying in 9 (Island House)

Vague Plot’s jams shimmer like highways melting in the heat, running straight on through Kansas or Nebraska until they disappear in the undecipherable distance. Which is to say, they go on for while, repeating the same short grooves ad infinitum, with modest changes, until the measures blow by like mile markers and the journey transcends itself.

“Moto” which opens, metes out the time in sharp, strummed intervals, a little syncopation marking irregular edges in the tick-tocky flow. And within that context, a sax can wail, a guitar can howl, a lick can bloom and fade and collapse in distortion. There’s order so that disorder can grow, a white picket fence around wild tangles of vegetation.

Vague Plot is made up of New York City avant-indie regulars, veterans of other bands, who got together to make driving, moving, long-form instrumental music a la Can and Popul Vuh during the pandemic. The one you’d probably pick out of a line-up first is Zachary Cale, here one of two guitarists, alongside Uriah Theriaultof Woodsy Pride. Phil Jacob of Psychic Lines plays the sax sometimes and a keyboard otherwise, while Ben Copperhead plays bass and John Studer drums.

The music grows contemplative in blues-tinged “Haunted Head” before spinning off into psychotropic grooves, like some weird mesh of Loren Connors and Om. It attains purity in the slow-evolving tones of closer “Windswept” which has a bit of Kluster in its crystalline lucidity.

You might think, with Cale involved, that there’s be a rustic rocker thread in Vague Plot’s aesthetic, a little Neil Young crashing through the motorisms. There mostly isn’t, sorry to disappoint, except oddly enough, on the tape’s best cut, “Cyclic.” Here Jacob’s sax wanders in and around a heavy groove that’s ever so slightly shaded with country rock tones. It’s a puzzle palace, a metronomic experiment in extended pulse, but with a ragged heart, and it’s the wildest and most excellent part of an excellent little album. Fuck the cowbell. Let’s have more guitar.

Jennifer Kelly    

[missionimpossibleburger]

When Art Becomes Industry - The Menu Review

For my elementary school yearbook, I was given a slip of paper that had me answer the following prompt: "What do you think you'll be when you grow up?" These would later be printed just below my name and portrait that would proudly beam on the glossy pages of the 5th grade section of the yearbook, among the other classmates off to do wonderful and ambitious things as preteens in middle school. In short, this was like a high school yearbook quote, but a little more hopeful and earnest.

I answered Probably a comic book writer or a piano player. While the use of "Probably" helped me ease into the idea of letting go of my short-lived comic book writing ambitions, it still amazes me today that, at 10 years old, I knew in my heart that the piano would be a part of my life.

My earliest memories come from the time when I was a toddler who could barely walk, stumbling down the soft carpeted hallway of my childhood home in South San Francisco as I approached the mysterious and booming mid-range tones from the piano in the living room. I'd see my dad's legs, rhythmically pressing on the ornate pedals with the balls of his feet at irregular intervals, like he was operating a weave as he conjured up a net of harmonies beneath his palms. While I might not have fully comprehended it at the time, there was a understanding in our family that the piano is a gene in our household, and I inherited it from my dad, whether I liked it or not.

Fortunately, I did like it. My dad took me to my first piano lesson when I was five years old, in the back of a Chinese-owned musical instrument shop on Clement Street. I never saw that teacher again (maybe the first lesson was complimentary, and my dad just didn't like her enough), but I got to keep the book. At home, with the help of 12 colorful cartoon characters printed in my book, I taught myself all 12 notes in the scale (more if you want to count the treble and bass clefs), simply because I was hungry to learn more notes and more songs. I took great pride when my dad clapped for me finishing Mary Had A Little Lamb, and shame when he reprimanded me for improvising wrong notes. I loved learning new songs, and held myself over with nursery rhymes and folk songs until it was time to take formal classical lessons from a teacher who met my dad's approval. At nine years old, I finally was reaching the next step.

My piano teacher introduced me to the world of music education and the rigors of music training. She was compassionate and warm, but demanded dedication. Through her, I internalized the technicalities of finger placements, metronome speeds, hand compartmentalization. I expanded my repertoire to included Russian contemporary composers whose surnames sounded like Harry Potter spells, but whom sometimes wrote the easiest pieces for my nimble fingers. I reckoned with the performance anxiety that dreaded my psyche before every monthly recital, which eventually bled over to my Certificate of Merit performance auditions. While I changed schools and subjects during the day, music became the constant test that loomed over me.

By the time I became an adolescent, I had nothing to show for it. In high school, it dawned on me that, not only was the piano barely used in any high school ensemble, but everyone knew how to play it better than I did. Everyone knew an ensemble-friendly instrument, whether it was a string instrument for the orchestra, a woodwind for the symphonic band, or a brass for both. All I had was piano, an instrument that's barely heard unless there's a solo, a concerto, or a jazz rhythm section involved. If I wanted to be heard, I had to be perfect. All 4 years of high school, I didn't pass a single audition for piano - not for the school jazz ensemble, not for any of the school musical pit orchestras. I dreaded each audition anyway, and probably flubbed them out of nervousness. I only got into orchestra after I begged the music director and offered to be a TA and a percussionist for the orchestra class, and the one time I did play in the musical pit orchestra was for percussion.

The stress and pressure I felt in the rigors of the music world left me jaded; they were a sobering reminder that I would never be cut for a career in music, or at least as a piano player, as my 10-year-old self prophetically proclaimed. My worth was at the whim of directors listening for every perfect note. The world was telling me that I wasted my time with the piano, a constant reminder of my own inadequacy. I became angry. I lost sight of why I was even spending time and money on these piano lessons, when I had schoolwork and college applications to worry about.

It's this jaded feeling that I think The Menu fully understands. Ralph Fiennes' Julian Slowik is a world-renowned chef who uses his reputation and art to seek retribution for the ills of the arts-turned-service industries. His dishes are the visceral expressions of his stoic hatred and rage for the pretentious, capitalist, and opportunistic subculture that has plagued his beloved art. Having been deeply engrossed in the higher world of fine dining, he manipulates and upends the culture to his own vengeful benefit, usurping expectation and surprising his guests (and by extension, us) by forcing them to confront their dismissive participation and moral crimes against art and humanity. In public reference does he create his own personal chaos, a heaven out of a living hell for those he finds undeserving.

There's a point in the film in which we see Slowik's origins. In one photo shown, he's younger, relaxed, and smiling, holding up a greasy burger patty on a flat and wide spatula, like the kind you'd see in cartoons. It's in stark contrast to the Slowik we got used to seeing, a stoic and terse statue of a man with thunderous claps and a commanding presence, arms crossed. And it's this point in the film where we see it's emotional core, an outlet for our own passionate angst and frustrations. We see a man who was once happy, doing what he loved, now grown into a bitter, spiteful shell.

With nothing else to audition for (save for the slightly less rigorous annual piano tests I habitually studied and trained for), my time with the piano became much for personal. Around my early adolescence, my love and ear for music bloomed with The Beatles, and the piano became the perfect outlet for that rediscovered joy and love of music. Like how I was when I was five, I began dedicating myself to learning more and more songs I loved, Beatles and beyond. I sought new territory and creativity in jazz piano and improvisation, a new language that was previously shunned from me.

When I see Ralph Fienne's Slowik as he is, I am reminded of all of those failed auditions, those nights slumped on the piano bench, those feelings of worthlessness, and if I sat through more of those and eventually found the success I was looking for, I'd come out a shell like him. But, when I see Slowik cooking a burger, I am thrust with nostalgia for the days when I learned Beatles songs on the piano, noodled jazz piano solos over wavy chords, and weaving harmonies out of thin air.

So yeah, I got pretty emotional watching this.

[letmesleeponu4sumtime]

Eva Hesse with “Metronomic Irregularity” at the opening reception for “Eccentric Abstraction,” Fischbach Gallery, NY 1966

[musicalsiphonophore]

I <3 revisiting music I learnt two years ago

also AREN’T I PROPER, REHEARSIG WITH A METRONOME??? 💅 no irregular timings here no siree i got my tempo chosen at 72bpm and i will stick to it

i’ve been SO into Bizet lately! Yesterday, I played the Minuet from Arlesienne with my orchestra, and it was absolutely marvellous!!

Also- I know my Bb sounds strained. I’m working on it. When I was playing this last, any note above D sounded strained like that, so it’s a massive improvement that I can now go up as high as I can while maintaining a decent tone.

[xtruss]

Virginia Tech Scientist Shows Focused Ultrasound Can Reach Deep Into The Brain To Relieve Pain

A Study by Wynn Legon, assistant professor at the Fralin Biomedical Research Institute at VTC, found that narrowly focused soundwaves aimed at an area of the brain called the insula reduced both the perception of pain and the body’s reaction to it.

— By Matt Chittum | 5 February 2024

Wynn Legon, Assistant Professor at the Fralin Biomedical Research Institute at VTC, authored a paper published in the journal PAIN that is the first to demonstrate low-intensity focused ultrasound can penetrate a deep part of the brain called the insula and relieve both pain and the body’s response to the stress caused by it. Photo by Clayton Metz for Virginia Tech.

You feel a pain, so you pop a couple of ibuprofen or acetaminophen. If the pain is severe or chronic, you might be prescribed something stronger – an opioid pain killer that can be addictive under some circumstances.

But what if you could ease pain by noninvasively manipulating a spot inside your brain where pain is registered?

A new study by Wynn Legon, assistant professor at the Fralin Biomedical Research Institute at VTC, and his team points to that possibility. The study, published in the journal PAIN on Feb. 5, found soundwaves from low-intensity focused ultrasound aimed at a place deep in the brain called the insula can reduce both the perception of pain and other effects of pain, such as heart rate changes.

“This is a proof-of-principle study,” Legon said. “Can we get the focused ultrasound energy to that part of the brain and does it do anything? Does it change the body’s reaction to a painful stimulus to reduce your perception of pain?”

Focused ultrasound uses the same technology used to view a baby in the womb, but it delivers a narrow band of sound waves to a tiny point. At high intensity, ultrasound can ablate tissue. At low-intensity, it can cause gentler, transient biological effects, such as altering nerve cell electrical activity.

Neuroscientists have long studied how nonsurgical techniques, such as transcranial magnetic stimulation, might be used to treat depression and other issues. Legon’s study, however, is the first to target the insula and show that focused ultrasound can reach deep into the brain to ease pain.

The study involved 23 healthy human participants. Heat was applied to the backs of their hands to induce pain. At the same time, they wore a device that delivered focused ultrasound waves to a spot in their brain guided by magnetic resonance imaging (MRI).

Participants rated their pain perception in each application on a scale of zero to nine. Researchers also monitored each participant’s heart rate and heart rate variability – the irregularity of the time between heart beats – as a means to discern how ultrasound to the brain also affects the body’s reaction to a painful stimulus.

Participants reported an average reduction in pain of three-fourths of a point.

“That might seem like a small amount, but once you get to a full point, it verges on being clinically meaningful,” said Legon, also assistant professor in Virginia Tech's School of Neuroscience. “It could make a significant difference in quality of life, or being able to manage chronic pain with over-the-counter medicines instead of prescription opioids.”

The study also found the ultrasound application reduced physical responses to the stress of pain – heart rate and heart rate variability, which are associated with better overall health.

“Your heart is not a metronome. The time between your heart beats is irregular, and that’s a good thing,” Legon said. “Increasing the body’s ability to deal with and respond to pain may be an important means of reducing disease burden.”

The effect of focused ultrasound on those factors suggests a future direction for the Legon lab’s research – to explore the heart-brain axis, or how the heart and brain influence each other, and whether pain can be mitigated by reducing its cardiovascular stress effects.

— Other authors on the paper include Andrew Strohman, an M.D./Ph.D. student in the Virginia Tech Carilion School of Medicine and Virginia Tech’s Translational Biology, Medicine, and Health Graduate Program, and other Legon Lab members.

— The study was supported by the Seale Innovation Fund, the Focused Ultrasound Foundation, and the National Institutes of Health.

The brand new 139,000-square-foot Biomedical Research Addition provides state-of-the-art research laboratories that focus in six thematic areas of research: Biomaterials and body-device interfaces, Neuroscience, Cardiovascular Science, Comparative Oncology, Infectious Disease and Immunity (COVID-19 Research), Metabolism and Obesity

These facilities will be home to 25+ new research teams by 2027. The new space already houses an active cardiovascular research lab, a brain cancer research lab, a high-field magnet for brain and heart imaging, and the veterinary college’s new Animal Cancer Care and Research Center. The expansion also includes Virginia Tech’s COVID-19 testing laboratory, and a new biological safety level three facility where our researchers will work on identifying the mechanisms of COVID-19-induced disease and therapeutics.

In addition, the Fralin Biomedical Research Institute and Virginia Tech are expanding research operations to the Children's National Research & Innovation Campus in Washington, D.C. The new laboratories in D.C., anticipated to open in 2021, will be home to a team of Virginia Tech scientists who will work alongside researchers and clinicians at Children's National and JLabs to develop new diagnostics and therapeutics to treat pediatric nervous system cancers.

[edwardastormwrites]

Origins of Free Verse Poetry in America

free verse, poetry organized to the cadences of speech and image patterns rather than according to a regular metrical scheme. It is “free” only in a relative sense. It does not have the steady, abstract rhythm of traditional poetry; its rhythms are based on patterned elements such as sounds, words, phrases, sentences, and paragraphs, rather than on the traditional prosodic units of metrical feet per line. Free verse, therefore, eliminates much of the artificiality and some of the aesthetic distance of poetic expression and substitutes a flexible formal organization suited to the modern idiom and more casual tonality of the language.

Although the term is loosely applied to the poetry of Walt Whitman and even earlier experiments with irregular metres, it was originally a literal translation of vers libre (q.v.), the name of a movement that originated in France in the 1880s. Free verse became current in English poetics in the early 20th century. The first English-language poets to be influenced by vers libre, notably T.E. Hulme, F.S. Flint, Richard Aldington, Ezra Pound, and T.S. Eliot, were students of French poetry. The Imagist movement, started in England in 1912 by Aldington, Pound, Flint, and Hilda Doolittle (“H.D.”), was concerned with more than versification, but one of its principles was “to compose in sequence of the musical phrase, not in sequence of the metronome.” Almost from the beginning, the free-verse movement split into two groups, one led by Amy Lowell and a more formal one led by Pound. Eliot’s early experimentations with free verse influenced the loosening of formal metrical structures in English-language poetry. Carl Sandburg, William Carlos Williams, Marianne Moore, and Wallace Stevens all wrote some variety of free verse; the versification of Williams and Moore most closely resembles that of the vers libre poets of France.

[mo0nfairy]

can i request hcs of glamrock freddy simping over their human co-worker??

thank you <3 (btw i love ur writing!!)

🪷 ִ ° ⋆ 𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫 ˚ ｡ . 🪺

𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 . . .

♫ 𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫 ⸺ 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐳

˚ ✩ 🥕 ｡ ˚ ✧ * ｡ 🧤

( 📁 ) . . .  𝗧𝗪! 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗽𝗶𝗲𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲𝘀. 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗽𝘂𝗿𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲. 𝘃𝗶𝗲𝘄𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗱𝘃𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗱.

( 📁 ) . . .  𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗼 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁! <𝟯

𝗴𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗿𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗱𝘆’𝘀 𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 . . .

𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, & 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚒𝚍

you can’t recall when the sudden alter in freddy’s behavior occurred

the wagging of his short tail whenever you’re around, the way his ears elevate in surprise when you speak to him, the glitches in his voice after you tie his bow and adjust his hat

and even now, the way your hands trace over his arms and legs to make sure the animatronic is still in function is enough to make his entire system short-circuit

“you took quite the tumble on stage tonight, but there seems to be no bugs in your programming... do you have any idea what may have happened to you, freddy?” you…

that’s what happened: you

your heavenly voice in his earpiece, constructing the music and notifying your coworkers of any potential irregularities in the glamrock’s coding

how could anyone function properly whilst an angel overlooks their shoulder, whispering sweet nothings such as “speed up the metronome for chica” or “lower the volume of the backing tracks for monty”?

oh, you’re just too sweet~

you may not be able to recall the abrupt shift in his disposition, but freddy certainly can

before, everything was grey; every day was spent in chromatic colors as the robot mindlessly entertained guests without an ounce of conscious thought

and all it took was a bicker between him and monty that sent him spiraling off the catwalks to end up in parts and services, where he would then wake up to your adoring face

then, there was color

“there was a minor accident in gator golf that left you in severe conditions, so fazbear entertainment called me in to treat you. i hope that’s all alright with you, freddy?” yes, yes, it is more than ok

“how’s that brain working? any coding i need to patch up on?” all i can think about is you

“how about those new eyes, how are they treating you?” they’re perfect, you’re perfect

his eyes then glanced down to your chest, your golden name tag glistening beneath the bright surgical light above you

y/n…

what a beautiful name…

and just like that, life isn’t so dull for freddy anymore

the safety of the children, the wellbeing of his friends, his concerns for his state of mind, everything is put on a back-burner now that his circuits have been overwhelmed by you and your flamboyant self

and poor, sweet you, who just assumes the devoted initiatives of your favorite fazbear is all a part of his coded personality

because yeah, it’s totally programmed in freddy to memorize your eating habits and bring you a hot, fresh slice of pizza and a glass of his signature fizzy-faz during your breaks

it’s totally normal for an animatronic to insist on carrying you place-to-place, simply because the walk to parts and services is "far too long for a human to possibly endure"

it’s totally normal for him to carry you over his shoulder to his room like a sack of potatoes after vanessa was in the process of chewing you out for a glitch in roxanne’s ocular upgrade

and it’s completely normal for the golden boy of fazbear entertainment to beat roxanne wolf out of commission after an accident during your shift in parts and services

that mangy mutt had left you bed-ridden and away from freddy for a month, but now that you’ve returned, the 7-ft-tall teddy bear is always breathing down your neck whenever another glamrock breathes in your general direction

there’s definitely nothing weird about freddy's behavior! you’ve been doing your job flawlessly and keeping these animatronics (excluding poor roxy) in tip-top shape…… right?

well, apparently not, because now fazbear entertainment has called you into parts and services for the final time before you’re obliged to pack up your bags and leave pizzaplex forever

“listen, freddy…” yes, of course, i’m always listening to you

“ever since i’ve gotten this job, more and more anomalies seem to appear in your behavior. i’ve tried countless times to fix it, but it’s not enough” you are enough, you’ve given me more than i could ever ask for

“and after what happened to roxy, i just… i don’t think working with animatronics is really my forte” you couldn’t be more perfect for me, y/n, what is this leading to-?

“this is the last time we’ll see each other”

….. no.

that mere sentence leaving your mouth was enough to cause his mechanical heart to implode

freddy begins to hyperventilate, the screens within the parts and service cylinder erupting with a mess of binary codes and a large, flashing “error”

harsh-red alarms begin to blare as the dread unit warns you of the unexpected occurrence of freddy’s system overheating

the doors to the protective cylinder lock as freddy begins to twist and jerk in his surgical chair, the restraints added for your safety splitting with an ear-piercing rip!

you bang against the hazy window, shouting for all of your coworkers, the other glamrocks, hell, even for map-bot to save you from your fate

sharp claws then grasp around your form and pull you closer as you shriek and squirm, all before darkness envelops you

you've been huddled within the cramped walls of freddy’s chest cavity, uncomfortably embraced by the wires and sprockets of his endoskeleton as you try and fight against him

the ringing of the alarms, the voice of dread unit, and your own muffled screams simmer down to silence

all that is left is you and him, closer than ever before

“there’s no need to worry anymore, starlight, i’ll tell the others you packed up and left… you’re safe with me, forever…”

the media was right… fazbear entertainment has far too many skeletons in the closet.

edit: reader is not dead lol

[fatehbaz]

Walking through the neotropical forests of Mexico’s Yucatan peninsula today, encountering a feral colony of Melipona beecheii -- a particular kind of native, stingless bee -- would be highly rare. Most extant colonies are kept by a dwindling number of local practitioners, and those that still live in the forest are highly elusive, pollinating only the highest levels of forest canopy. Yet these bees, called xunáan kab (“lady bee”) in Mayan, are living metronomes, embodying forest histories and marking out ecological time in distinctive ways.

The history of xunáan kab is tied to the regional landscape, both socially and ecologically. Pre-Colombian Maya communities held the xunáan kab bee in esteem for millennia, integrating the small insects into [...] mythology [...], and relying on their honey as a nutritious food staple. [...].

---

The story of ecological destruction and colonization in Yucatan has been narrated through the lives of nonhuman species before. Yet the species that get to tell these stories are often the ones that make the biggest impact, with easily distinguishable introduction events or punctuated bursts of ecological disturbance. One of these is henequen, a kind of agave that became highly valuable for its use as a fiber. 

In the late 1800s, much of the old-growth forest of the central peninsula was cleared to make way for vast monocultures of the plant.

The boom (and subsequent bust) of “King Henequen” continues to dominate the version of regional history that most tourists to the region encounter, with plantation tours and Merida’s neoclassical architecture the most conspicuous memorials to Yucatan’s “golden age.”

---

In contrast, the story of xunáan kab is one of quiet resistance -- a steady hum from the margins of the forest. 

It may have been on account of xunáan kab, for instance, that the European honeybee (Apis mellifera) was not introduced to the Yucatan peninsula until the mid-twentieth century, centuries after its introduction by the Spanish to other regions in Mexico. The abundance of xunáan kab hives, allowing for the steady supply of honey and wax as forced tribute to the colonizers, negated the need for their replacement or supersedence with other introduced species.

In this respect, xunáan kab is a ghost of ecologies yet to be, a vanguard against unrealized ecological destruction. [...]

The beekeepers of Zutut’ha are only one thread of a larger regional struggle in which indigenous communities and meliponicultores (keepers of the xunáan kab) have long been involved, especially with regard to the region’s biocultural heritage. Though the practice of meliponicultura has gradually declined, it has by no means disappeared -- [...] many persist in cultivating native bees, sharing hive divisions among close contacts. Recently, there has been renewed interest in the medicinal properties of xunáan kab honey [...]. The decline of the health of the forests leaves the future of xunáan kab uncertain. This decline is shaped by more irregular blooming periods caused by climate change, the widespread use of pesticides, and deforestation caused by the encroachment of industrial agriculture plots and touristic development projects.

---

Headline, image, caption, and text published by: Olea Morris. “Xunáan Kab Rhythms: Native Bees and Ecological Change in Yucatan, Mexico.” Environment and Society Portal, Arcadia no. 6. Summer 2020. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks added by me.]

[sprinklesandshatters]

A Review on NCT 127′s 3rd Album <Sticker>

So NCT 127 just came back with their 3rd Full Album <Sticker> and this is my first 127 comeback since I became a fan last year! Neozone is such a special album for me as it was their first album that I explored entirely. I've known NCT as the group who never fails any expectations so I've kept mine up although I know they'll exceed it anyway. And guess what, they did! I absolutely love their new album hence this review~

This isn't a technical music review—as I am not a musician myself—but rather a listener's honest takes, goofy notes, and interpretation on each of the tracks in the album. I admit I've also struggled to build my own opinions on some of the tracks until I listened to them over and over again.

I have also heard there are mixed opinions on the title track <Sticker> and a lot says it's another acquired taste. But I think it's not just that, as it can be a grower, just like how most of NCT's songs were for me. Maybe after a few listens and a right passage of time, it will grow on those people. The bottom line here is, I like it a lot! 😛

So I listed down the songs according to their respective track numbers and followed each with a bulleted list of my opinions and interpretations.

(Viewer/reader discretion: before you continue, minors, do not interact as there are few 18+ contents under the cut. Thank you.)

1. Sticker

THEY DIDN'T JUST PUNCH A NEW NOTCH ON THE BELT LIKE THAT

THIS SONG SLAPS, LITERALLY SLAPS… AND WHIPS 

The recorder at the intro boyyyy I thought something was wrong but then I remember it’s NCT lmao

It already stuck in my head from my first listen from the Instagram audio.

With Taeyong opening the verse with his divine rapping, I knew I'm in for a new ride.

STICK-UH STICK-UGH STICK-UGHGHGH

To those complaining it sounding like noise music, imagine it sounding generic. I don't think it would fit as the title track. Not a b-track or in their repertoire, even. They are called NCT because they define the NEO in the music culture and music technology!

It honestly was an unorthodox, just like all of their title tracks, which I’m inherently here for.

Literally, no one does it like them!

The growls and the vocal flexes and adlibs! (You can tell it has Yoo Youngjin's brand.)

The crisp metronome sound that’s consistently ticking except for the pre-chorus and the dance break adds depth to the soundscape. I love how it’s used instead of the usual snaps.

The production quality blew my mind. Like how can someone think those melodies would sound so exquisite? CAN I CALL THEM GENIUS?

The piano at the back, oh my God—Yes! It adds this mystifying element to the song.

I'm not sure if it's a midi violin at the pre-chorus, but it added thrill to the song. It was a great transition from the bass line in the verses to the combination of the flawless harmony with the same instrumental.

"You treat me like a boy, like a grown-up child chasing a dream" JUNGWOO BABY NO MORE HUH

Taeil, Doyoung, and Haechan—the bridge vocal trinity!

But why the heck are they cowboys? I dig the concept, but why? LMAO

BTW GUNSLINGER MARK I’M ON MY KNEES YEEHAW

This is easily one of my favorite tracks from NCT 127's entire discography 💚

2. Lemonade

(⌐■_■)

Jaehyun starting off this song with his deep voice eee

The song opens to a verse oozing with chill confidence. They're like, yeah you're lurking because we’re cool.

This is such a huge slap to their haters. NCT's not chillin' like a villain, nah they're the main characters!

Well maybe they’re villains, but still ya not cooler than them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Funny enough how they could have just referred haters as simply lemons whose sour/bitter to the taste, but 127 squad's success is sweeter than all the haters' spiteful remarks so yeah, SIPPY SIPPY LEMONADE 🧃

"WOOF"

I might have just barked too wOW

Yuta’s vocals hooooO his voice just sounds so glamorous mhmm

Also Mark referencing their previous title tracks such as: Firetruck, Cherry Bomb, and Regular (it's Irregular in the lyrics) in his rap part 👌💅

I just love Mark's energy when he raps. HE RESOLUTELY BITES AND STRAIGHT UP EATS EVERY TIME HE DOES.

3. Breakfast

Now breakfast time, oh jeez!

AAAHAHFU—

Summer 127's bestie!

If Summer 127 talks about dancing all night long, Breakfast is the morning after.

You know what it is.

"Even if I gulp and drink you, it's not enough for me." oho Taeyong no you ha—STOP

Sexual innuendos aside, isn't it just sweet if someone tells you they'd want to have breakfast with you every day?  Okay maybe I'm melting at the thought 😩🙈💞

And I can see myself dancing to this song as I make breakfast (in the afternoon or at midnight bc I’m crazy)

This was an okay b-track for me at the first skim on the album, but boy it grew on me wildly.

Honestly one of my favorite tracks in this album.

4. Focus

Did I just invade a private call? LMAO

The analog voice filters make it like so.

Dude, this feels intimate in the level of eavesdropping a phone call between seasoned lovers. Then you realize you hear them whispering their kinks over the line and you're ooh, that's sexy! hfgklhfhf

My first listen to this, I almost went feral because,

"I can't wait to eat you…" when it's actually "I can't wait 'til we chill…" aahaha

"Baby call me when you want me." OKAY!

This sounds relaxing and chill. I'd love to play this on a late night drive or just before bed time along with Fly Away With Me, Sun & Moon, My Youth, and Long Flight.

Belongs to ‘make out session’ playlist  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

That was lowkey a playlist recommendation, huh?

I'd be kidding if I don't say I could touch myself while listening to this song AHAHAFGHFJFJ

I didn't know this would grow on me this much lol I love love LOVE THIS!

5. The Rainy Night

Ooh, the holy melancholy!

Piano at the intro—I knew I'd cry to this.

This song isn't just about break-up, but the heartbreak after one.

The yearning; the remnant pieces from the shattering of what was once there.

I think I crumbled from this one.

This hit so hard I felt like I fit in the shoes with the lyrics throughout the entire song.

What’s fascinating is I clearly forgot the title when I mentally said this sounds like a sad rainy day song from the first listen.

Something I’d turn up when it suddenly rains, just because I want to feel the blues.

Taeil and Haechan singing in lower register? I wanna cry :( they’re just one of the best vocalists in K-music industry right now.

Could have been also nice if they added Yuta to the vocals.

"My selfish heart who waits for you to come back," OKAY WHO HURT THEM?

And the fact that they sang it so good that it translated every ounce of the emotions well even before I looked up for English translations is the reason why I love this song too.

6. Far

Hmm… What the hell?! Do I like this? Wait...

Alright!

The jumpy vibe from the first verse to the pre-chorus set the mood for this song. It sounds merry and heavy. It was honestly too much to take until I’ve reached the chorus part.

Honestly, I think this song could fit NCT Dream better, as it gives off a vibe similar to Hello Future's b-tracks. If some credible source say this could have made HF’s track list, I might believe you too fast.

Also Dream’s Deja Vu where they go na nananananana na na na~

Playful yet confident! That’s what I mean!

As usual, the vocals are insane! Vocal flex from left to right!

I swear Jungwoo sounded a bit like Taemin at the second verse that I had to replay it hahaha

I love hearing Johnny as a vocalist! SM, how many signs do you need until you utilize his vocal talent???

Taeil's part where he sings, "go nuts, go nuts, 'til we go bust, go bust" IDEK BUT I SNORTED A LAUGH AT FIRST LISTEN HFCAHKFHK

Not my favorite, but still great though!

But wait it’s actually stuck in my head???

7. Bring The Noize

Yes, they never beat those noise music allegations

HERE'S SOME NOIZE, BITCHES

I love me some noisy percussions. AND THE BASS YO

This screams so much confidence!

The build up from the pre-chorus to the chorus—FIRE!

This song reminds me a lot of SuperM's Super Car, especially with the engine roar samples and the battle cry-like singing at the chorus.

JAEHYUN RAPPING? You mean Jaehyun the visual, the vocalist, the actor, the model, the funny dude, aka my everything?! (markie bb look pls look away for a moment)

THEY DELIVERED IT STRAIGHT FROM NEOCITY THAT'S SOME NCT MUSIC RIGHT THERE NO ONE DOES IT LIKE THEM

When I said I'd play Focus on a late night drive, and if I add this in the playlist, VROOM VROOM SPEED LIMIT WHAT

OUTTA MY WAY

“We got no shame” ouh TAEYONG’S FLOW IS JUST VERY HIM AND HE’S IN A LEAGUE OF HIS OWN

You know what's so clever about this song? It's how it ended with Mark's final rap without any instrumental, leaving you  standing there with a doppler effect-like post experience.

A super car on a super speed just whooshed past you and you look its way as it zips through the road. It's gone in an instant but you're floored dumbfounded at a sidewalk. That's how I describe this song.

8. Magic Carpet Ride

This song… Wow. Oh gosh it's so beautiful.

Their harmony in the chorus—it makes me want to kiss someone so passionately that I'd cry.

This makes me want to feel love that transcends the universe. Literally, just please take me on a magic carpet ride :(

The background harmonies too oh my goodness—HEAVENLY.

Jaehyun's voice is so warm and soulful it fits perfectly with songs of this genre.

Okay alright Doyoung Grande!

And Taeil makes me feel like I'm listening to old school R&B.

The first time I heard this from the track video, I can't stop replaying because it's just that great.

This makes me want to love. I think that sums it up.

9. Road Trip

This is such a soothing song for me, especially how I easily become nostalgic thinking about the road trips I've had.

Whenever I listen to this, my brain immediately conjures up thoughts of my ideal getaways. Gazing at the sky through the car window, stirring up from a nap in the middle of the ride, and   eventually reaching your destination.

Oh, to travel around anywhere... (curse you covid-19)

Okay that's it. I'M PACKING UP.

But where do I go—

I could also imagine Mark playing this on the guitar and the other members sing along together, something like that.

Just Wholesome™ vibes.

I love how it evokes such a nice emotion within me effortlessly.

This isn't my favorite, but I still love this.

10. Dreamer

Eyyyy such a refreshing song!

This song is so bright it makes me want to dance. I play this first in the shower!

It reminds me so much of Elevator (from Neozone)

The horns make it more lively I think!

Yuta and Jungwoo's voice suits lively songs like this.

The background vocal in low register in Taeyong's part in the first verse is so good ahhfhf

Taeil, the R&B vocal king you are...

There's this part where Doyoung and Johnny harmonized, that at first listen they seemed to clash, but it sounded actually fine after a few listens. Maybe it's just that I've never heard them do it before.

And I think it's Doyoung's laugh at the end of the bridge? Oh my goodness I really love this too!

11. Promise You

MY FIRST LOVE AND MOST FAVORITE SONG IN THE ALBUM!!!

The first time I heard this from their NCIT Sharehouse Sitcom, I fell in love with the song already.

It sounds like something you'd feel from a warm, welcoming hug.

The lyrics are so beautiful and endearing. It's definitely a be-there-for-you type of song that will touch your heart.

It definitely sounds like a promise.

A song about platonic intimacy.

This really fits to be the closing song of the album. It's like the end of it but holds a promise that says “see you soon.”

Because they cherish their fans like that.

It's also like I've watched a movie with a happy ending, where the camera pans up to the clear sky and this song starts playing.

Speaking of ending, I would love to hear them sing this as an encore stage in their concert. You know, that moment just before the stage lights die down at the end of the concert where they send final blows of flying kisses to NCTzens. Then you come home smiling and crying.

This wasn't supposed to be this long since I originally planned to write this with just simple phrases and emojis but I got too engrossed lol. I also meant to include my own ratings but I figured it’s pointless since I can’t really decide about them hahaha

I really enjoyed the whole album and I love how they're progressively defining what NEO means by breaking through standards. It's not NCT music if it doesn't make you say "WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?" But then you realize it’s stuck in your head and you’re enjoying it already.

✨ OVERALL RATING: 127/10 💚

if you’ve reached until here, thank you for letting me share you a braincell or two 💞

[goliah0]

Found an interesting article about how Black Dog gave the feeling of delicious irregularity. Bonzo had the most unbelievably steady beats which provided space for motif shifts and improvised melodies; his 4/4 rhythm was the base of discordant sound flows in not only Black Dog but also Kashmir. Black Dog is like a musical acrobatics where all four components dance with each other.

There was a live version done in the Coverdale/Page tour and I found it lacked the nuances that made this song fun to listen to.

Also the light "click" by drumsticks before each instrumental sentence like a little metronome by Bonzo is clearly audible in any studio version. Another fun.

[fromthedust]

Eva Hesse (German/American 1936-1970)

Metronomic Irregularity I - painted wood, Sculp-Metal, and cotton-covered wire - 12"x 18"x 2" - 1966

[whacher]

“Metronomic Irregularity I” by Eva Hesse, 1966.