#million dollar arm

[aidansplaguewind]

JON JAMM as JB BERNSTEIN

MILLION DOLLAR ARM | 2014

[garethamm]

Sweating guy in videochat

[tctmp]

Million Dollar Arm: Directed by Craig Gillespie. With Jon Hamm, Pitobash, Suraj Sharma, Madhur Mittal. A sports agent stages an unconventional recruitment strategy to get talented Indian cricket players to play Major League Baseball.

[writernotyetauthor]

if I could have One beautiful figurine of tolys to keep in my room I would be satisfied

[timothylawrence]

sorry hashtag divorce wins but this is peak Sasha August Rhys dynamic

[ask-but-beware-the-consequences]

Say what you will but for me the Nickles song vibe is Lana del Rey.

[epaulando]

genuinely the stupidest conversation i've had recently was about whether laguna seca should be shut down because of noise complaints. apparently it's unreasonable for a raceway to exist near any residential area even if the aforementioned raceway has been there much longer than any residents. i think the appropriate timeframe to lodge complaints was 67 years ago when it was built. tell me why i just spent a full half hour of my life debating this.

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

Bastards & Arms, Girls and Swords (& vice versa)

“The Lannisters are proud,” Jon observed. “You’d think the royal sigil would be sufficient, but no. He makes his mother’s House equal in honor to the king’s.”

“The woman is important too!” Arya protested.

Jon chuckled. “Perhaps you should do the same thing, little sister. Wed Tully to Stark in your arms.”

“A wolf with a fish in its mouth?” It made her laugh. “That would look silly. Besides, if a girl can’t fight, why should she have a coat of arms?”

Jon shrugged. “Girls get the arms but not the swords. Bastards get the swords but not the arms. I did not make the rules, little sister.”

- Arya I, AGOT

This is a very iconic passage as far as contextualizing the ways in which Jon and Arya are outsiders in the established feudal society, all the while being insiders in some way. Jon’s quote (which establishes how the rules be) is the most recognizable part of this conversation due to what comes later (the gifting of Needle) but Arya’s preceding question is what jumped out to me as I was doing a reread of this chapter. This is mostly because it seems to get to the matter of feudal legitimacy.

Because Arya’s question had me thinking: beyond having marital ability, does possession of a sword establish legitimacy in the feudal system? Obviously the possession of arms does equate to legitimacy since one would get them by being born to a recognized legal union. But what does it mean to have one over the other? And what does it mean to have both? Can a person only be half legitimate? And where would that even matter?

As I was thinking about this, I immediately thought of Daemon Blackfyre, who was one of Aegon IV’s legitimized bastards. If memory serves me right, part of Daemon’s claim to kingship was that he held Aegon the Conqueror’s sword, Blackfyre (hence his dynastic name). His nickname was even “The King Who Bore the Sword” and many were inclined to follow him since his possession of the legendary sword seemed to signify kingship; and by passing the sword down to him, Aegon IV officially acknowledged him as his son. But the sword alone wasn’t legitimizing. That happened later when his father legitimized him and his other half siblings on his deathbed. After that, Daemon had both the sword and the arms and he could push his claim for the throne. So if we go back to Jon and Arya’s conversation, Daemon the bastard managed to get the two keys of legitimization (insofar as kingship goes): the sword and the arms.

Now, let’s go back to Jon and Arya. At this point in the story, Arya has the arms which were passed down to her by her father. She doesn’t have the sword here but a few chapters later (in Jon II) she is gifted Needle - her very own sword which specifically made for her. Over time, this sword becomes an integral part of her development and her identity. It’s interesting that Arya gets the arms from her father and the sword from her brother - almost like legitimacy is being passed down patrilineally; even more interesting when you consider that GRRM originally intended for Jon to be her husband.

Jon, on the other hand, arguably has neither. As a bastard, he has no right to any arms. And though he has the martial ability, he does not have the sword; the family sword, Ice, was going to go to his half-brother who was the heir. Even if Jon managed to get a sword, it probably would be inconsequential; meaning that it would not be as legendary as Ice is. But things change as the story progresses. Several chapters later, he is given his very own sword (which he earned on his own merit) when he is gifted Longclaw by Lord Commander Mormont. Jon thinks that this act is like Mormont recognizing him as a son; he is giving Jon his son’s sword. Then two books later, Jon gets the arms when he is legitimized by Robb’s royal decree; though one has to wonder if GRRM initially intended for Arya to be the one to give him the arms as he gave her the sword. Still, legitimacy passed down patrilineally for Jon as it did for Arya. It’s even flipped: one gets the arms from a father and the sword from a brother, while the other gets the arms from a brother and a sword from a (surrogate) father. Both go through situations where they have to assume some sort of leadership (though Jon’s is far more extensive than Arya’s). However, these situations of leadership (big or small) come not because they were passed down as demanded by feudal succession, but because they were earned.

So now we have to wonder, what does this mean for Jon’s and Arya’s futures given that they hold both signs of legitimacy (as it might relate to kingship if we consider the Daemon Blackfyre example)? They both have the sword and the arms. In addition to that, Jon has a plethora of king foreshadowing and symbolism in the text, despite being a bastard. And he is quite skilled as a warrior. Arya may not have Jon’s martial ability, but she has learned some that is relevant to her strengths as a young girl (so she’s not totally hopeless). She also has some queen foreshadowing in the books; her wolf is even named after a warrior queen and she claims to assume a shortened version of Nymeria in ACOK.

Could they mirror Daemon Blackfyre, who was an outsider who came to be recognized as king? It’s hard to tell what will happen given that we still have two books left, but it’s just some food for thought. In any case, this chapter and Jon II (where Arya got the sword) could serve as seeding for what’s in store for Jon’s and Arya’s ultimate journeys.

[kekwcomics]

"Steve Austin becomes a suspect after series of burglaries that can only be accomplished with bionic strength are committed. As Austin begins to have vague memories of his encounter with Bigfoot, he is approached by Gillian, one of the alien travelers. She explains that one of her own, Nedlick, has formed a splinter group intend on world domination and is now using Sasquash to commit robberies in order to gain wealth." - Via The TV Archeologist.

Well, sure, that'll work. That's gotta be up there with whatever the plan was in Plan 9 From Outer Space...

[allebasimaianunes]

I just fucking obsessed with him rn.

[vanosslirious]

Bryce: We have three ingredients, and we're struggling. I can't imagine there being more.

Squirrel: Why can't we be making hot dogs? That's so much easier.

Delirious: I know! Or serving banana's!

*Bryce & Squirrel laughing*

[aidansplaguewind]

Jon Hamm as JB Bernstein

Million Dollar Arm | 2014

[garethamm]

🍌

[foxyfexyll]

putting my bets in for 3 because a lot of my bones are suprisingly pretty damn important, and for the other bones as well. four million is not worth much more to me than the little mobility i have

… and i lost a damn shoulderblade

I saw this question posed on tiktok, but I think Tumblr would really enjoy it too.

If a fae creature offered to give one million dollars for a bone chosen at random, how many bones would you allow them to take?

Light clarifications; The fae is not the one choosing the bones. The bone is taken at random. Each bone, no matter the size or importance, is worth a full million dollars. You must also declare the exact number first, you can't go bone-by-bone. You either say 2 or you say 10, you can't work your way up to a higher number. The bones are removed instantaneously, and the money is given immediately as well. You will not get in government trouble for acquiring the money.

Tell me in the tags/replies how many bones you'd let the fae take. And as always, reblog for bigger sample size.

[sergeant-macho-nacho]

Fun Fact: Elon Musk and Ronald Reagan both got their start in politics in California

[creepyclothdoll]

The Devil's Wheel

The Devil’s Wheel

“If you say yes,” said the Devil, “a single man, somewhere in the world, will be killed on the spot. But three million dollars is nothing to sneeze at, missus.”

“What’s the catch?” You squint at him suspiciously over the red-and-black striped carnival booth. You’re smarter than he thinks you are– a devil deal always has a catch, and you’re determined to catch him before he catches you. 

“Well, the catch is that you’ll know you did it. And I’ll know, too. And the big man upstairs’ll know, I ‘spose. But what’s the chariot of salvation without a little sin to grease the wheels? You can repent from your mansion balcony, looking out at your waterfront views, sipping a bellini in your eighties. But hey, it’s up to you– take my deal or leave it.”

The Devil lights a cigar without a match, taking an inhale, and blowing out a cloud of deep, sweet-smelling tobacco laced faintly with something that reminds you of rotten eggs. If he does have horns, they’re hidden under his lemon yellow carnival barker hat. He wears a clean pinstripe suit and a red bowtie. No cloven hooves, no big pointy fork, but you know he’s the Devil without having to be told. Though he did introduce himself.

He’s been perfectly polite. 

You know you need the money. He knows it too, or he wouldn’t have brought you here, to this strange dark room, whisking you away from your new house in the suburbs as fast as a wish. Now you’re in some sort of warehouse, where all the windows seem to be blacked out– or, maybe, they simply look out into pitch darkness, though it is the middle of the day. A single white spotlight shines down on the two of you. 

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” you say. “I bet the man is someone I know, right? My husband?”

“Could be,” the Devil says with a pointed grin. “That’s for the wheel to decide.”

He steps back and raises his black-gloved hand as the tarp flies off of the large veiled object behind him. The light of the carnival wheel nearly blinds you. Blinking lights line the sides. Jingling music blares over speakers you can’t see. The flickering sign above it reads:

THE DEVIL’S WHEEL

“Step right up and claim your fortune,” the Devil barks. “Spin the wheel and pay the price! Or leave now, and a man keeps his life.”

You examine the wheel. 

The gambling addict

The doting boyfriend

The escaped convict

The dog dad

The secretive sadist

“These are all the possible men I can kill?” You ask, thumbing the side of the wheel. It rolls smoothly in your hand. Then you quickly stop, realizing that this might constitute a spin under the Devil’s rules. He flashes a smile at you, watching you halt its motion. 

“Addicts, convicts, murderers– plenty of terrible options for you to land on, missus!”

“Serial wife murderer?”

“Now who would miss a fellow like that? I can guarantee that the whole world would be better off without him in it, and that’s a fact.”

The hard worker

The compulsive liar

The animal torturer

The widower

The desperate businessman

The failed musician

The beloved son

“My husband is on here too,” you say. 

“Your husband Dave, yes. The wheel has to be fair, otherwise there’s simply no stakes.”

“I know what’s gonna happen,” you say, crossing your arms. “This wheel is rigged. I’m gonna spin it around, and it’ll go through all the killers and stuff, and then it’s gonna land on my husband no matter what.”

“Why, I would never disgrace the wheel that way,” the Devil says, wounded. “I swear on my own mother’s grave– may she never escape it. In fact, take one free spin, just to test it out! This one’s on me, no death, no dollars.”

You cautiously reach up to the top of the wheel and feel its heaviness in your hand. The weight of hundreds of lives. But also, millions of dollars. You pull the wheel down and let it go.

Clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity

Round and round it goes. 

The college graduate

The hockey fan

The Eagle Scout

The cold older brother

The charming younger brother

The two-faced middle child

The perfectionist

The slob 

Your husband Dave

Clackity-clackity-clackity.

Finally, the wheel lands on a name. A title, really.

The photographer

“Hmm, tough, missus, but that’s the way of the wheel. But hey, look! Your husband is allllll the way over here,” he points with his cane to the very bottom of the wheel, all the way on the other side from where the arrow landed. “As you can see, it’s not rigged. The wheel truly is random.”

“So… there really isn’t another catch?” You ask. 

“Isn’t it enough for you to end a man’s life? You need a steeper price? If you’re really such a glutton for punishment, I’ll gladly re-negotiate the terms.”

“No, no… wait.” You examine the wheel, glancing between it and the Devil.

You really could use that three million dollars. Newly married, new house, you and your husband’s combined debt– those student loans really follow you around. He’s quite a bit older than you, and even he hasn’t paid them off yet, to the point where the whole time you were dating you watched him stress out about money. You had to have a small, budget wedding, and a small, budget honeymoon. Three million dollars could be big for the two of you. You could re-do your honeymoon and go somewhere nice, like Hawaii, instead of just taking two weeks in Atlantic City. You deserve it. 

Even so, do you really want to kill an innocent photographer? Or an innocent seasonal allergy sufferer? Or an innocent blogger? Just because you don’t know or love these people doesn’t mean that someone doesn’t. 

The cancer survivor

The bereaved

The applicant

Some of these were so vague. They could be anyone, honestly. Your neighbors, your father, your friends…

The newlywed

The ex-gifted kid

The uncle

The Badgers fan

“My husband is a Badgers fan,” you say.

“How lovely,” the Devil says. 

Then it hits you.

Of course.

The weightlifter.

The careful driver.

The manager.

The claustrophobe.

Your husband Dave lifts weights at the gym twice a month. You wouldn’t call him a pro, but he does it. He also drives like he’s got a bowl of hot soup in his lap all the time, because he’s afraid of being pulled over. He just got promoted to management at his company, and he takes the stairs to his seventh-story office because he hates how small and cramped the elevator is.

“I get your game,” you announce. “You thought you could get me, but I figured you out, jackass!” “Oh really? What is my game, pray tell?” The Devil responds, leaning against his cane.

“All these different titles– they’re all just different ways to describe the same guy. My husband isn’t one notch on the wheel, he’s every notch. No matter what I land on, Dave dies. I’m wise to your tricks!” 

The Devil cackles. 

“You’re a clever one, that’s for sure. I thought you’d never figure it out.”

“Thanks but no thanks, man,” you say with a triumphant smirk. “I’m no rube. No deal. Take me back home.”

“As you wish, missus,” the Devil says. He snaps his fingers, and you’re gone, back to your brand-new house with your new husband. “Don’t say I never tried to help anyone.”