#my hat's down I am in awe from the nuance here

[akirathedramaqueen]

The Five Stages Of Grief: Verosika vs. Stolas

Alright, guys, it's time to play the complete denial card and ignore for a moment what we've just seen in the last short Viv dropped like a fucking nuke on our heads (seriously, this woman makes me swear more than a sailor).

Are we going to talk about something light? Ha-ha, you are looking at the angstiest person out here. Sorry. No relief for you.

But maybe some bits of analysis will do? Let's go.

The setup

Some time ago, I discussed how differently Stolas and Verosika react to their breakup with Blitz in response to one of my previous posts (it might be useful to read that to have the whole picture, but it's not crucial—here).

S2EP9, Apology Tour, 8:05

If we recap that reblog, I find that Stolas deals with his emotions much better and processes them in a more mature manner than Verosika does.

We could stop there, really, but I wanted to explore the situation from a different angle. Using the Kübler-Ross five stages of grief model, we can pull out more nuance from their actions and words.

They both went through a similar traumatic event—Blitzø hurt them in arguably one of the worst ways possible. The circumstances, Blitzø's intentions, and the outcomes are slightly different, but at their core, they are both left broken and deeply wounded.

Left: S2EP8, The Full Moon, 22:00 Right: S2EP9, Apology Tour, 18:03

So, what about their personalities makes their responses to trauma so contrasting?

Disclaimer about the model's credibility

This is probably me being overly pedantic, but I want to point out that this model is deemed to be popularized by the media, and professionals’ opinions are conflicted—some say it is accurate while others criticize it for its lack of flexibility or go as far as to say it has no application in real life. The studies are also inconclusive—there are papers both in favor of and against this model.

What am I trying to say here? This is a silly analysis about silly demons from a silly show, and if you do happen to unfortunately experience grief in any way (I am so sorry you have to go through this!), it is essentially experienced by all people differently. You should not feel bad if you skip stages or if their order is messed up.

Okay? <3 Okay. You’ve got this in your own way.

Tomorrow will be better than today.

Stolas: A Classic Way

One of the things I noted in my previous post is that Stolas immediately recognizes the pettiness of the party, and I praised his remarkable ability to see through the issues with such events.

The one day a year the spirits can rise amongst the living and it's spent celebrating mutual pettiness. S2EP9, Apology Tour, 6:55

And don’t get me wrong—his own way of dealing with problems is just drinking them away, and that’s not healthy. That’s why he actually belongs at this party.

But emotionally, Stolas is much more aware of what’s going on with him and the people around him. I think that despite his drinking problem, this awareness helps him process his own grief faster and find resolution—or at least an outlet—in just one night.

Let’s apply the five stages of grief model to him and see what’s going on.

Denial

You can see the denial seeping through during their morning conversation—there are moments when he clearly hopes Blitzø will suddenly listen to him and change his demeanor, despite Blitzø being consistent in his brashness and hostility.

Left: S2EP9, Apology Tour, 3:56 Right: S2EP9, Apology Tour, 4:23

Can you see the hope in his eyes? Can you see how ready he would be to brush off the whole shitshow happened between them just for Blitzø to take at least a bit of accountability or accept his feelings?

Additionally, although it doesn’t fit the term perfectly, we could stretch the concept a bit and say that the following lyrics below are somewhat denialish. Notice, by the way, that it’s not linear to the suggested model—you’ll see why later.

But I, I keep on waiting Waiting to want you less than I do And I do, oh, I do, yes I still do want you S2EP9, Apology Tour, 11:08

'Cause I am not a thief, but you were mine to earn S2EP9, Apology Tour, 11:42

He struggles to accept that the relationship has ended (we struggle too, baby owl, and we're not accepting it… but it gets worse before it gets better), and he still waits for Blitzø to return, maintaining a possessive feeling—“you were mine to earn.”

Anger

Stolas's anger is vastly different from Verosika's—I promise to elaborate on it later.

He uses his anger throughout the morning confrontation with Blitzø to protect himself from Blitzø's attacks and futile attempts to retain the status quo. His anger serves to assert that he is done with the transactional arrangement and Blitzø's behavior.

As shocking as this might seem, Blitzø, I don't think I'm in the mood to "do sex" with you. In fact, I don't think I'm even in the mood to do words with you! So, how about you respect that? S2EP9, Apology Tour, 0:57

[Stolas]: Get out. Right now! [Blitzø]: What?! [Stolas]: I'm tired of this! I'm uncomfortable how you're speaking to me now! S2EP9, Apology Tour, 2:24

And all of this happens just the night after that disastrous full moon meeting! Stolas is pissed off, and rightfully so. But he still gives Blitzø the chance to correct his behavior, explain, and apologize. He asks Blitzø to leave him in peace but stays to hear him out until it becomes clear that Blitzø is not going to relent or give in.

His anger is not used to destroy those he is angry with; rather, it is directed toward keeping himself whole—at least as much as possible.

Bargaining

The whole verse of All 2 U, where Stolas contemplates what went wrong and if there's something they could still do, represents him trying to bargain for a better future.

Maybe there's something here for us to glean? For you to teach and me to try and learn? S2EP9, Apology Tour, 11:32

Of course, this is also something very useful for when they come back together (not if!). Despite Blitzø being the focus in the Apology Tour episode, Stolas has a lot of work to do, too. And him realizing that is a positive step.

But for now, from the perspective we’re looking at, this is a clear sign of him trying to trade anything he can for their relationship to flourish.

Depression

Eventually, Stolas breaks down publicly. He can’t hold the mask on anymore; seeing Blitzø is unbearable, as it reminds him too much of everything that happened and everything that could’ve been.

You! Why are you here? I don't want you here, go home, please! Let me not feel so sad! S2EP9, Apology Tour, 15:50

And he manages to compose himself incredibly quickly…

S2EP9, Apology Tour, 16:07

It takes him just 17 seconds to fall into crying and calm himself. But there was more brewing beneath the surface—he just didn’t show it.

Calm yourself, young prince. You know excitement is unbecoming of a Goetia. S2EP1, The Circus, 00:20

Acceptance...?

Then there's the guy who received more hate than he (allegedly) deserved—Better Than Blitzo guy. He asks Stolas for a dance, and Stolas accepts. He seems to quite enjoy himself there, actually… maybe even a tad too much (arguably).

Well, I just wanted to see if... Maybe... I dunno... You'd wanna... Dance? S2EP9, Apology Tour, 16:16

S2EP9, Apology Tour, 19:08

S2EP9, Apology Tour, 20:08

Did he move on? Did he get over Blitzø? We don’t know. I don’t think so. But that dance was certainly an outlet. A relief he was ready to accept. He was ready not to dwell on negative emotions and allow himself to feel something good for a change.

Verosika: A scorched earth way

Now, let’s see how Verosika is doing after all these years post-breakup. Surely she can’t care less about Blitzø now, right?

Anger

Right… No petty feelings at all.

S1EP3, Spring Break, 8:13

There's still resentment...

A selfish imp in the sheets And just as bad in the streets A reckless, heartbreaking freak! S1EP7, Ozzie's, 11:54

Anger… to the murderous degree, actually…

Fuck Blitzo in the fucking ass! S2EP9, Apology Tour, 8:14

Disrespect...

That cock-sucking motherfucker! S2EP9, Apology Tour, 9:36

Remember when I said their anger is different?

She uses hers to fuel her determination to destroy Blitzø’s reputation. She uses her fame and all her resources to humiliate him.

She never moved past anger. Never really processed it.

But wait…

Acceptance?!

S2EP9, Apology Tour, 18:55

All it took was just one long-overdue genuine talk. The moment she saw Blitzø's remorse and let her feelings out, she immediately warmed up, stopped using his dead name, and even gave advice—it’s debatable whether it was the best one, but I believe she meant well for both Blitzø and Stolas.

Hold it, Blitzø. Y’know, if you wanna change, it just starts with saying: “Good for him, hope he gets laid.” S2EP9, Apology Tour, 19:18

You know, I feel there’s a good chance that the next anti-Blitzo party might not ever happen again.

Because she leaped through all the stages in one night, and, maybe not at that exact moment, but she is on the path to acceptance. Finally letting it go.

Baby, I'm not over it, but I'm over you.

Could've saved many years of simmering in rage and destructing herself over Blitzø though.

Conclusions

Oh shit, now I need to somehow connect all the dots, don’t I?

Well... *chuckles nervously* I guess I gotta put on my nerd glasses and pretend I knew what I was doing here and not just threw shit at the wall and saw what stuck.

What I really wanted to say is that Stolas is much more self-aware and was able to work through all his feelings and process them in one day. He went through the complete journey and made immense progress. We don’t know how it will go further, but from what we’ve seen, his emotional intelligence helps him, if not to avoid problematic behaviors like binge-drinking, then at least not to burn bridges behind him, leaving space for understanding, forgiveness, and acceptance.

It’s not to say that Verosika’s way of doing things was wrong because she was angry and skipped through some stages. It was wrong because she made her entire personality revolve around it, turning bringing Blitzø down in any way possible into her ultimate life goal. It was wrong because she never processed it.

And it shows why, even after the break-up, #stolitz can still work, given that Blitzø is open about how he feels and Stolas is open to listening to it.

AGAIN! There’s no right way to process grief. But there should be a priority to heal and accept instead of doubling down and ruining yourself and everything you cared for.

(I am watching you, Blitzø hater. Don’t you dare to shit on my poor lizard. He has his own heap of issues and has had enough after that fucking penguin slur short. So don’t. >:()

[hismercytomyjustice]

Jesus CHRIST. Finally watched the latest episode of IWTV.

Good god these guys are acting like the rent is fucking due.

I cannot get over how intense their performances are and all the nuances they give to each of their characters. Especially Assad Zaman. I cannot get enough of his performance.

!AMC IWTV 2.05 SPOILERS BELOW!

I was in awe of Sam Reid the first season and how he could flip so effortlessly from the man of Louis’s dreams to his worst fucking nightmare at the drop of a hat.

And now Assad Zaman is here to show how he can be 99% the man of Louis’s dreams but don’t you dare forget that fucking 1%.

And of course Jacob Anderson is fucking PHENOMENAL. I am in awe of how masterfully he shows how Louis has changed over the years. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to play three different versions of yourself decades apart.

He goes from semi-reluctant pimp to grieving newly made vampire to Lestat’s victim to Claudia’s brother who is trying he is trying so fucking hard to a photographer trying to remember why life is worth living to Daniel Molloy’s suspicious adversary to his hesitant friend.

I just. UGH. They are all so TALENTED.

And of course Bailey Bass and Delainey Hayles as Claudia!!! I do miss Bailey Bass, but Delainey Hayles has stepped up to the plate SO HARD. I love her so much too. The scene with Claudia playing chess with Lestat in Season One will forever live rent-free in my head though. Seeing her play the newly turned vampire/daughter/sister to playing the overconfident Lestat like a fiddle was *chef’s kiss*. God they’re all just SO GOOD.

And Eric Bogosian!!! And Luke Brandon Field!!! And Ben Daniels!!!

They are all JUST SO GOOD. My brain struggles to find the words to describe how fucking phenomenal they all are!!!

┻━┻︵ \(°□°)/ ︵ ┻━┻

I gotta reiterate what I posted in response to angel-starbeam’s question around whether Dracula comes across as “less like a supernatural evil being and more like a real life monster” because IWTV hits that duality on the head so well too. The show does such a phenomenal job of delving into both aspects, digging into the human trauma/emotions of the vamps and the horrible things they do while also going all in on the supernatural horror front.

Episode 2.02 is a perfect example with how the Theatre des Vampires is introduced. Specifically the scene where Louis and Claudia go see the show for the first time and how the company delights in playing pretend while also literally murdering and devouring people on stage in front of their audience.

The scene where the young woman is brought out on stage and begging for someone to save her, but everyone just thinks it’s part of the play. And yet you see so many people in the audience growing uncomfortable. Especially the guy who she agreed could take her place. He looks downright terrified.

It’s so fucking haunting, seeing this woman crying out for her husband and child and for rescue while being heckled by audience members. But it’s still theater for the vampires. A show within a show, solely for their entertainment. They get to watch humanity in its basest form, the woman agreeing to let someone else take her place, the audience looking away, and the audience cheering the slaughter on.

They’re literally playing with their food because it’s fun for them. They don’t need to kidnap people and “convince” (heavy air quotes) them to die on stage. And OF COURSE Lestat is the one who came up with that whole idea, what with his flair for sadism and drama.

They do it because they’re fucking human. Or were, anyway. The Theatre des Vampires is such a sharp contrast from the vampires we meet in 2.01, the ones who are little more than feral, whittled down to their basest instincts. They don’t fucking play with their food, they just hunt and eat. And yet isn’t that somehow more civilized than whatever the fuck they’re doing in France? Convincing themselves they’re doing these people a favor by getting them to “agree” to die?

Because that’s what Claudia’s so fixated on isn’t it? What she asks Santiago?

“How do you make them want it?”

Because that makes the deaths more interesting and more meaningful, doesn’t it? Connecting with your victim, lulling them into submission, getting them to “let” you bring them the inevitable end you, as an immortal, can never have?

And the woman in that scene is so young too. She has a child and a husband. Her adult life is only just now taking shape and they rip her away from it. They could find older targets, ones whose sudden disappearances/deaths are more readily accepted by society because of their age.

But they don’t. Because they’re fucking obsessed with youth. With people who have their entire lives ahead of them and everything to live for while they’re trapped in unending night, desperate to find meaning in it.

It’s exactly what young Daniel accuses Louis of in the 70’s. What sets him off. Because he fucking nailed it. Louis has spent his entire undead life striving for connection and meaning, but he can’t fucking find it because none of the vampires around him understand he never wanted to be one of them and he fucking hates what he’s become.

Yes, he was hurting and grieving after his brother’s death. But he still had his sister and his mother. He still had his job. He still had a place in the community. His business was wildly successful. And we see him trying so fucking hard to hold onto all of that when he bursts into the church the night of his brother’s funeral, desperately trying to evade Lestat’s siren song as his world crumbles around him.

Lestat makes him beg for a different sort of death. An end solely to his living life that Louis doesn’t understand is just as final as if Lestat had just slit his throat. Because by becoming a vampire, Louis loses everything he’s ever cared about “by choice” and he’s forced to live in the ashes of his former life for all eternity while all he wants is for everything to go back to the way it was before his brother’s death. But he can’t have that, so he just stops fucking living.

All of the vampires are so desperate for connection. Lestat wants a companion, Louis wants a family, Claudia wants a community, Armand wants to be wanted, Santiago wants authority…

I’d argue younger Daniel’s raw desire to just fucking live even though his life is middling at best (lol sorry bro) is what Louis finds so fascinating about him. And it’s because he loves life so much that he asks Louis to turn him.

Have we seen any voluntary vampires at this point? Maybe Santiago? Vampirism is something that has happened to them and stolen their agency in the process. Louis never wanted it, he just wanted an escape from his pain. Claudia never asked for it. Neither did Lestat or Armand or any of the feral European vampires.

The show so perfectly balances the vampires’ humanity with their monstrousness so fucking well. Being turned into vampires didn’t magically fix what was wrong with them in their human lives, and now they’re forever trapped in the bodies they had at the worst fucking moment of their human lives, never able to move past it.

Claudia is the poster child for this, stuck forever at fourteen even as her mind “ages” into adulthood. As mentally grown up as she is at this point, she’s still trapped in the body of a teenager. She will never be able to physically mature beyond that and she constantly tries to escape that reality only to have it thrown back in her face time and time again. She thinks she’s finally found people who will accept her as a grown woman in the coven, but then she’s forced into the role of Baby Lulu. Tbh, I feel like if she hadn’t had that role forced on her, maybe she would have finally been able to find some genuine happiness.

I mean, probably not given the shows themes, but a person can dream, dammit!

I know IWTV was a book series before it became a show and I’ll be honest, I haven’t read the books. I’ve googled some stuff because I’ve been curious about the how it differs, but my interpretation is solely form the pov of the show.

I’m just really fuckin’ digging it and I can’t wait for more. (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ) I just love how passionate everyone involved in it is and how much that passion shines in their work.

[smokeybrand]

Smokey brand Movie Reviews: Free City or Liquid Suffering

Free Guy is an exceptional movie and you should go watch it right now. It’s worth every penny. I wanted to get that out there up front. That’s the review. The rest of this thing is going to be me just gushing about why i think it’s one of the best films of the year. If you’re curious as to why i loved it so much, read on. But you don’t have to if you don’t want because I'm telling you, right here, right now, up front, Free Guy is totally worth everything. Its exceptional. Go f*cking watch it right now! Also, just to clarify, the title of this love letter to Free Guy has a double meaning. Free City is the name of the world in which the movie takes place but it's also the name of a pretty dope St. Lunatics album. Batter Up!

The Outstanding

I have to say, the execution of this idea was fantastic! You’ve seen this the of movie before in films like the new Jumanji joints and Ready Player One, but you’ve never seen them executed like this. I was thoroughly surprised by how entertaining, how original, the Isekai Video Game Experience was presented. F*cking outstanding!

With that in mind, credit has to be given to the director of this spectacle, Shawn Levy. He has a strong vision because this f*cking thing definitely passes the eye test as a video game. It Feels like walking into the world of Saint’s Row III, the only thing missing being giant dildo swords.

I also have to mention how brisk this thing moves. There is next to no fat on this plot an it gets you to where you need to be with purpose. I appreciate that, not because i don’t like a slow burn, atmospheric, feat for the eyes but because that type of film making wouldn’t work with this type of film. It’s long, don’t misunderstand, but it never Feels long. I never needed to pause it and take a break or try over and over to start it. It’s a solid watch that, by the end credits, will have you absolutely enveloped with the pathos onscreen.

One of the stronger aspects of this thing was the cameos. A lot of the recognizable people, like Channing Tatum and Chris Evans came through and did their thing, for sure, but a lot of the streamers made an impression, too. Color me surprised when i is aw Pokimane and Ninja. Now, I'm old as sh*t so i only have a cursory knowledge of who these people are but for Gen Z and the Alphas? I imagine they were stupid excited seeing their versions of celebrities up on the being screen like that.

Speaking of cast, i just want to give a nod to Lil Rel Howery and Utkarsh Ambudkar as Buddy and Mouser, respectively. They were great as the supportive third string partners. I was particularly surprised by Lil Rel because i generally can’t stand him in stuff but he never overstayed his welcome in this. Well done.

Ryan Reynolds is Ryan Reynolds. You know what you’re going to get in a starring vehicle for dude. Mileage may vary but I'm a fan of the motor-mouth, super quippy, schtick. My favorite superhero is Spider-man so of course i am. That said, his Guy is very earnest and likable. Even when he’s moving down player after player, he’s still just that Blue Shirt Guy. It’s real hard not to like him.

For me, the stand out of this flick was Jodie Comer. I love this chick. I was put on to her way back when i stumbled upon Killing Eve an have been absolutely enamored ever since. Her Millie the Molotov Girl is a fantastic character and she is great in the role. It’s so different from what I've seen her in and it’s testament to he skill. I’m glad she’s getting bigger roles and can’t wait to see what she does in Thor IV. I’m actually curious who she’ll be since we already got a version of the Enchantress in Sylvie. Plus, i just really like hearing Jodie’s speaking voice. It’s cute.

What can i say about Taika Waititi other than he’s Taika Waititi? Dude is doing Hitler from Jojo Rabbit but as video game company CEO named Antwan and it absolutely works. Antwan’s not even villainous, he’s just a petulant, corporate, shill, obsessed with profits. So, basically, EA but, you know, a person. Which is kind of genius because if you ask any gamer, they’ll tell you the final boss is definitely companies lie EA, Activision, and Take Two. F*ck those guys and f*ck Antwan!

I’m more than on record of loving everything Joe Keery does. From my initial introduction n the excellent first season of Stranger things, his amazing growth in the second, and becoming the best f*cking thing about the show by the third. I loved him in Molly’ Game and was shocked by his range in Spree. I can’t say he flexes his acting chops so much in this as the unrequited love interest, Keys, but he’s still fun to see.

I think the best thing about this film, though, is how much genuine heart it has. This movie is chock full of emotional nuance. I was surprised by how much i cared about the characters by the time this thing ended and all credit to that has to go to the writing. In order for these performances to present such complete relationship arcs, that sh*t on the age had to be on point and believe me, it was. Hats off to Matt Lieberman and Zack Penn. Those two mad lads delivered something really special.

The Verdict

I already said it up front. Free Guy is fantastic. It’s loaded up with great performances. Rich characters, a wonderfully world, and striking visuals. This thing Feels like a video game and movies that try to do that rarely pull it off. Like, Ready Player One does a great job articulating that same Feeling but it’s not something that is so easily capture. Free Guy does it better than that one, better than Spielberg. While all of that sh*t i said makes this thing more than worth the price of admission but, for me, it’s the overall writing that gives the movie legs. It’s incredibly well written and smarter than you’ think based on such a pedestrian premise. I’m really enjoyed my time in Free City and I'm glad it got made. Fox was playing with house money when Ryan Reynolds dropped this into their laps. They basically gave him a budget and told him to create because why not? Sh*t would be Disney's problem after the merger, right? Well, surprise-surprise, free of corporate meddling and financial projection, Free Guy turned out to be an amazing, entertaining, original, IP that everyone should support.

[spockandawe]

Okay, I want to pull together more detailed thoughts at some point, I think, because the sheer amount of material means I have about ten billion thoughts to sort out. But I’ve read all three of the mxtx novels now, and loved all of them, in different ways. Though I already tried to figure out if I can pick a Favorite, and tbh, I can’t. I love them all in ways that are too distinct to let me rank them easily. And... man, it’s lucky for my friends that social distancing is in place, or I’d be hassling them shamelessly to give these novels a try.

RIGHT. So.

The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System: Shen Yuan goes to bed full of rage directed at a trashy webnovel with a grimdark blackened hero who conquered the world and collected hundreds of women into his harem.... and wakes up in novel, while that hero is still an innocent youth. As the hero’s abusive teacher. Who is doomed for a horrifying death unless he can somehow turn things around.

I think I had the most fun with this one. I really enjoy self-referential stories, and stories poking fun at certain genres, and I’ve run into the concept of transmigration before (the idea being a person enters a fictional world, a la lost in austen), though I’m blanking on any media like that I’ve actually consumed. This was chronologically the first book mxtx wrote, and it has less of a sprawling cast with complicated relationships than the other two books, but it definitely has the thing where she lays early groundwork for later revelations that shatter my poor heart. 

And there may be fewer relationships to play with, but my GOD, do I love the relationships we got. I’ve been rolling around in svsss fanfic since I finished the book, even more so than mdzs or tgcf. There’s a lot of good crunchy relationship content with the 79 ship (they destroy me, all day every day), Liu Qingge owns my whole-ass heart, and Luo Binghe makes for a fascinating love interest. I love that even at his best, he remains a needy, needy, manipulative boy, who’s so smart and strong and nEEDY. I don’t love how the book handled moshang, but mmmm the fan content is Good. And Shen Qingqiu does the unreliable narrator thing that is usually not my jam, but works so WELL in these books, in that his unreliable narration is hugely skewed towards not giving himself nearly as much credit as he deserves. Xie Lian takes this to UNBELIEVABLE heights in tgcf, but in Shen Qingqiu’s case, it’s done on such a casual, immediate, personal level that I’m fascinated by everything he does. 

And, since Shen Yuan/Shen Qingqiu is a millennial fan of trashy romance webnovels who gets yanked into the universe of a novel he hates, into an old-timey xianxia setting, the prose is SO COOL. You swing between modern slang and old school high society courtesies at the drop of a hat, and I’m honestly awed that the translators were able to catch so much of that. Like, in-setting, I love all the nuance you can get in ‘qi-ge should give his a-jiu the scroll’ vs ‘yue-shixiong should give this teacher the scroll’ vs ‘you should give me the scroll’. But then it adds a whole new layer when the person ALSO has modern-day casual speech bouncing around in their head. It makes for a fascinating, fascinating reading experience.

The Grandmaster Of Demonic Cultivation: Thirteen years ago, Wei Wuxian died. And then he wakes up! In someone else’s body. I’m not going to try to summarize the premise of this one, go look up The Untamed if you want someone to do a better job of this than me XD

Ahhh, this was the book I read first. I still haven’t watched the show (only clips) and I’m not sure I ever will, because adhd is a hell of a drug. But it’s hard to purely evaluate the prose when there’s also this gorgeous, beautifully-acted visual adaptation all over my tumblr to bias me in its favor. I think this book benefits a lot from the MYSTERY of it all. From the very start, there’s the question of ‘what the fuck is up with this goddamn arm’ that the characters pursue, even as that takes them through flashbacks and other arcs within the story. It gives a thrust to the novel that I think isn’t exactly there in tgcf, though I’m torn on which one is “better.” This gave the story momentum, yes, but it also meant I was much more impatient in yi city and the 3zun flashbacks, because this isn’t what I was focused onnnnnn this is cool but how much longer will we BE HERE--

That being said, I think I’ll be more patient with those flashbacks on my next time through the book, now that I have a better picture of where everything is headed. I think the balance and structure of the book worked really well, I was setting myself up for self-sabotage because of the pace I was plowing through the thing. My reading habits didn’t lend themselves well to the nonlinear storytelling, and it speaks to the story’s strength that it held up that well despite me. And the CAST. My GOD. I went in not caring about anyone but Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji and maybe the jackass nephew, but... that Did Not Last. I didn’t intend to care about 3zun? Nope, too bad, you care so much now. Who cares about Xue Yang? Me. I care. Way too much. HECK!!!

And something that happens in this book and tgcf that was much less of a thing in svsss is that there are some meaningful holes in the story that I’d like to be filled, and I really care about filling-- and the story doesn’t go there. But it doesn’t leave me unhappy, it leaves me cheerfully scrabbling around in the throwaway details trying to piece together a picture of what happened when I wasn’t looking. What happened to Wei Wuxian in the burial mounds? How did Hua Cheng take control of the ghost city? Idk, but let us Rummage and theorize and roll around in ideas and have a fantastic, speculative time. Svsss might hook me more than the other stories from an au+shipping perspective, but mdzs and tgcf do a great job of making me want to roll around and create within the bounds of canon.

Heaven Official’s Blessing: 800 years ago, Xie Lian ascended to heaven. And fell. And rose again! And fell again. Now he’s ascended for the third time, and things are Awkward.

God, I just finished this, and I’m still reeling. This is the LONGEST mxtx book, that’s for sure. I also think it’s the most tightly edited translation. All the translators did an unbelievable job, I could never even approach what they accomplished, but I am genuinely stunned that a book this long was edited so well. I blew through this in about 3.5 days (if not for work, i could have made it in three dghsafdsgf) and my brain was cooking in my skull by the time I was halfway through, but I couldn’t STOP. I was ENCHANTED the entire time! I was reading so much my head was destroying me and I still sulked so HARD every time I had to put my phone down and sleep.

This book sprawls the hardest, I think, because it involves a cast made of mostly immortal/immortal-adjacent people, so time and space get... flexible. And I feel really bad saying this, because Lan Wangji is DEVOTED, but this is seriously the book with the most attentive and adoring and respectful love interest. Hua Cheng is..... god. I truly don’t think I’ve EVER read a character quite like him before, and I am so, so sad, because I don’t know how I’ll find one who lives up to these heights ever again XD I recommend reading this book just for the Hua Cheng experience, if nothing else. I was making audible noises at literally flailing at multiple points in the story, but most often, it was because of him. 

Shipping is what usually drags me into a fandom hardest, and all of these books do pretty well for themselves, all of them have a nice selection of fluffy and crunchy ships to choose from. And this one... goddammit. I just realized, that the best, most crunchy ships are too spoilery for me to be willing to talk about them here. Hell. Goddammit. But I think tgcf has the crunchiest ship of all, even better than xuexiao. I was so invested, and then there were Reveals, and then I was like OH NO THIS IS TERRIBLE BUT MY INVESTMENT HAS EXPONENTIALLY INCREASED. 

And something that I really, really appreciate, is that across the mxtx books, even though a lot of characters fit into strong archetypes, there’s nobody that is blurring together for me, either within or across the books. Liu Qingge isn’t Jiang Cheng isn’t Feng Xin. They’re all blunt, fighty boys, but all super distinct in my head, and what I want for each of them is distinct and character-driven. I want Liu Qingge to be properly cherished and I want Jiang Cheng to relax with his brother and nephew and I want Feng Xin to [goddammit i don’t want to spoil this book AGH]. It’s something I appreciated in the other books too, but I can really FEEL it in this book, with how long and luxurious it is. 

And last thing I have to say, I think, is that tgcf is so long. It’s so, so long. But I would FITE if anyone tried to pare it down at all. I can’t think of anything I’d be willing to sacrifice. I enjoyed every last piece of it so much, and it was all ultimately SO well-constructed and interlocking, that any piece I can think of snipping out would take away significant emotional impact from what was left. It’s a nonlinear story, like mdzs is nonlinear, and I loved mdzs a lot! But the construction here is so, so, so elegant. I’m just in AWE of how well it was assembled. I was in Agony as reveals happened, because oh no no no no, now that they’ve told me this, that casts this whole other scene in a brand new light! The one I read hundreds of thousands of words ago! Literally, I need to go start the book over so I can savor the shitty teens in new ways, given [redacted] as revealed in like, the last twenty percent of the book. The book was a fun experience, but there’s so Much here that I know I haven’t even absorbed yet. I loved the other mxtx books a lot, and in many ways, they were easier to get a grasp on than tgcf was, but even before I finished tgcf I was already despairingly trying to figure out how easily I could fit a full reread into my life, and I think that says a lot

[thecoleopterawithana]

Love your blog! I was wondering if you’ve read Paul’s PR guy’s diaries? They are full of little gems, such as how Paul uses smileys and is very handy with his iPhone. I read this entry and the guy writes Paul lost “a soulmate and songwriter”. I think it’s quite telling that the people he works with call John his soulmate. Haven’t read all the guy’s entries yet but just wanted to mention this one; it’s the entry about the Freshen Up tour in Japan 2018.

Hey there! I’m so incredibly sorry for taking so long to reply, but life has been truly hectic! 

To answer your question, I hadn’t had the chance to go through Stuart Bell’s accounts of the Japanese leg of the Freshen Up Tour (2018), so I’m grateful you’ve brought this to my attention! He certainly offers a different insight into the inner workings of the tour and how a more than experienced Paul navigates the commotion still with youthful enthusiasm. Even if written with a bit of a “PR hat on”, an amassing of ‘insider’ POVs (from people who were actually there) is invaluable to getting the full picture of Paul McCartney. And as someone who is filled with love every time a new facet is revealed, I appreciate any piece of information that comes my way!  

So I have to agree with you that little anecdotes like these are hidden gems:

The devotion and adoration is incredible and as Paul’s car rolls by this afternoon, the faithful are rewarded as Paul winds down the window and waves. He is so touched, and awed, by the reception that he even shoots some footage as he rolls past the fans. (Later in the week I receive a text from Paul while I am out for a run and it contains the clip. It looks mega so I ask if I can post to his social media �� shortly afterwards I receive a smile face. A little-known fact about Paul – he is the master of emojis when text messaging! 

— Wednesday 31st October – Tokyo Dome, For Whom The Bell Tells: Japan 2018.

And then, we have this other entry, that I agree is rather interesting: not only does it give us an ‘insider’s perspective on John’s significance in Paul’s life, but the piece centres on the issue of art as a platform with the power to spread a message, social responsibility, and how the message is something one’s passionate about (Paul being described as “not shying away from wearing his heart on his sleeve” just tickles me):

It barely needs mentioning that music is a huge and central part of Paul’s life but he has never been detached from the wider world. Like many musicians, matters of the heart are a preoccupation in his song-writing but Paul has continued to express his thoughts on life, the world in general and the causes close to his heart through his songs, interviews and other interventions. You can look back to the controversy surrounding his debut single with Wings, 'Give Ireland Back To The Irish’ (a response to the “Bloody Sunday” killings only a few weeks earlier in 1972), as an example of how he does not shy away from wearing his heart on his sleeve. Paul is passionate about many things and his humanity is self-evident. For a man who lost a soulmate and song-writing partner, you can imagine how the horrors of gun violence are an issue close to his heart. Just days ago the world was sickened by the mass shooting in a synagogue in Pittsburgh and so Paul has been keen to make his views known by not only showing his disgust at the attack which left 11 dead but also calling on the US to do the right thing by using their votes in the upcoming election to elect politicians who will do something about it. As I’m on my way to the venue Paul calls me and asks us to release a message in response to the terrible events.  He gives me a quote over the phone and in a rather surreal moment as we chat, I find myself looking out of the car window to see giant posters of Paul across the city with huge welcome messages for him.

—Thursday 1st November – Tokyo Dome, For Whom The Bell Tells: Japan 2018.

But let’s address the bit about his relationship with John. 

Like you, I find very telling the choice of words used here. It just goes to show how themselves and everyone around them have to scramble for a term that adequately describes the ineffability of their connection. It felt so encompassing, that the terms that regularly pop up hold that indescribable aspect in themselves: special, magical, cosmic soulmates. And seeing them struggle to put it into words is one of my favourite things! It’s no surprise then that I have an inordinate amount of overlapping tags covering the numerous nuances of this very same feeling, tracking their various attempts at capturing it.

But for me, it’s even more fascinating to look beyond the external awe-inducing aspect of it  – this special, magical, cosmic glow that draws us to the relationship in the first place  – and see how this notion felt to them; how it impacted the relationship in the first place.

Let’s look from Paul’s perspective first, as it is here, by a matter of the circumstances, that we find more material.

We wrote our first songs together, we grew up together and we lived our lives together. And when we’d do it together, something special would happen. There’d be that little magic spark.

— Paul McCartney, in Bill Harry’s The Paul McCartney Encyclopedia (2003). 

We read each other. We’d grown up together! (…) We’d been teenagers together, I’d been sitting in his bedroom listening to Fats Domino, Chuck Berry, we’d been taking down the words together when we were like 16/17. So we’ve actually grown up together. So that, if he said: “Gotta be like Chuck Berry!” I knew what record he meant. I knew even what line he was talking about! You know? So, we read each other in that respect.

— Paul McCartney, interview for the Today Show (6 July 1997).

With John and I, it was so special, I think both of us knew we couldn’t get that again. And it’s proved itself, through time, to be as special as it felt when we were doing it. So I don’t think that could happen again. We really were a complete fluke – just two kids who happened to meet up in Liverpool and share an interest and start writing songs together. And then developed, organically, together. And had the same sense of humour. And learned things at the same rate. Found out about Vietnam together. Little things. All of these little awarenesses pretty much hit us at the same time over a period of years. And you really become soulmates when that happens.

— Paul McCartney, interview w/ Mark Binelli for Rolling Stone: Sir Paul rides again. (October 20th, 2005)

No matter what’s happened, even though John’s dead, I don’t feel like we are ever gonna be apart. I think we’re a part of each other’s lives, we’re a part of each other’s karma, man!

He was a lovely guy, you know. And it gets sadder and sadder to be saying “was”. Nearer to when he died I couldn’t believe I was saying “was”, but now I do believe I’m saying “was”. I’ve resisted it. I’ve tried to pretend he didn’t get killed… it’s a bit sad. But anyway, I was blessed to be in The Beatles, to work with John. Something, somewhere… you know they talk about a gift of songwriting, well that was a pretty cool gift whoever gave it me.

— Paul McCartney, interview w/ Mat Snow for MOJO (November, 1995).

Paul seems to take a causality approach, with a bit of occasional baffling at the mysterious workings of fate sprinkled in. In typical Macca fashion, he condenses in himself the apparently paradoxical views of people as pavers of their own paths – we became soulmates because of the circumstances, because we chose to spend all that time together – and people as participants in a big cosmic play – we were brought together in the first place by something, somewhere, blessed to be a part of each other’s lives, each other’s karma.

But overall, it is very important to realise that despite attributing the initial circumstances to chance or a higher-power – them meeting at that particular moment and clicking so well immediately – Paul seems to value shared time, space and experiences as some of the biggest factors behind the magic. 

They became soulmates, by virtue of growing up and living their lives together. 

This places the agency and the responsibility of making it work right in their own hands. You want to be that close, that attuned, that in-sync with the other to the point of feeling like you can read each other’s minds? Right, you have to actually spend the time together, to accrue shared references and memories that will end up developing into that unspoken language. You can’t expect to have been born on this planet inherently capable of communicating with your preordained soulmate. 

And that brings us to John. 

John is awesome because despite having all those overpowering emotions and traumas inside him, he wasn’t actually afraid of engaging in some introspection and facing those feelings head-on. Because of this, he was able of evolving much faster (or at least, even when he couldn’t always change his actions, he seemed willing to try and become self-aware enough to understand why he was acting that way in the first place). 

So let’s see, after 40 years of getting to know himself, what answers did Johnny reach:

John: Well, you’re asking why we met. I mean, I don’t know. It’s like asking why you were born. I can give you theories of karmic pasts and things like that, but I’ve no idea why. But why it continues is because we want it to continue and work to continue. There seem to be certain cycles that relationships go through. The critical points are at different parts of the different cycles. The new way of talking is like, “Well, why work on a relationship? We just stop and get another one.” But the karmic joke is, presuming you’re lucky enough to find a new relationship anywhere near the relationship you’re giving up – or exchanging, or walking away from, or destroying by inattention or inadvertence of selfishness, or whatever it is – that you have to go through it over and over and over again right up until you’re seventy. People never grasp the fact that they’re going to have to go through the same thing again. They get to the sort of five-year stretch or the seven-year itch or whatever these tension points are, that seem to be organic, built in, like the tide coming in and going out. It’s like every time the tide goes out, you quit—you move your house of something, I’m not making it clear here but you get where I’m going…

Sheff: Yes, yes, but what made you see that?

John: When [Yoko] kicked me out, I saw I was kicked out. When I was kicked out, I realised where I was, which was on a raft in the middle of the universe, and whatever happened, presuming I could have started another relationship, I would have ended up in the same place—if I was lucky. And that’s a big if.

Sheff: You’re speaking about your separation in the early Seventies.

John: Seventy-three, or whenever we were separated, which is sort of a very cold way of saying it. It took a while, but that’s what I saw. If I was lucky… It’s like what they say about karma. If you don’t get it right in this lifetime, you have to come back and go through it again. Well, those laws that are sort of cosmically talked about – accepted or not, but talked about apply down to the most minute detail of life, too. It’s like ‘Instant Karma,’ which is my way of saying it, right? It’s not just some big cosmic thing, although it’s that as well, but it’s also the small things, like your life here and your relationship with the person you want to live with and be with. There are laws governing that relationship, too. You can either give up halfway up the hill and say, “I don’t want to climb the mountain, it’s too tough, I’m going to go back to the bottom and start again,” or you can do it this time.

Sheff: But you once decided it was too tough.

John: I did. But I didn’t see any of this then. Yoko and I were lucky enough to go through that and come back and pick up where we left off, although it took us some kind of effort and energy to – to blend in again and get in the same sync again. It took some time.

— John Lennon, interview w/ David Sheff for Playboy. (September, 1980)

It is with great love and affection that I see John’s matured insights: that despite having met under cosmically mysterious circumstances, the choice to build it into something more is in your hands. 

“Why it continues is because we want it to continue and work to continue.”

But John, like Paul, seems to have only gained this wisdom with the benefit of time and experience. It was with the perspective afforded by the passage of years that Paul came to fully realise and appreciate how truly special and improbably “perfect for each other” they were. And John “took his lucky break” and realised how hard it was to “find a new relationship anywhere near the relationship you’re giving up – or exchanging, or walking away from, or destroying by inattention or inadvertence of selfishness”.

(As an aside, I can’t help but point out how John pretty much disclosed what, in his opinion, made the mountain called JohnandPaul too difficult to climb: his selfishness and Paul’s inattention.)

In the same interview and continuing the reflections on the cyclic nature of relationships started above, and just what he lost by giving it up:

John: In a marriage, or a love affair – when the seven-year-itch or the twelve-year or whatever these things that you have to go through – there comes a point where the marriage collapses because they can’t face that reality, and they go seeking what they thought they should be having, still, somewhere else. I get a new girl, it’ll all be like that again; I get a new boy… But for all marriages, all couples, it’ll all be the same again. But what you lose is what you put into that… relationship. The early stuff – the Hard Day’s Night period, I call it – the early period, was the early equi– se– what I’m – what I’m equating it to is the sexual equivalent of the beginning of a relationship, of people in love. And the Sgt. Pepper-Abbey Road period was the period of maturity in the relationship. And maybe had we gone on together, maybe something more interesting would have come out of it. It would not have been the same. It would have been a different thing. But maybe it wouldn’t either. Maybe it was a marriage that had to end. Some marriages don’t get through that – that phase. It’s hard to speculate about what would have been.

— John Lennon, interview w/ David Sheff for Playboy. (September, 1980)

So, John acknowledges how you risk losing a very special relationship and everything you’ve put into it by walking away when it goes through a cyclic tough phase, how he did it once but he “didn’t see any of this then”. 

But what didn’t he see back then? Was he too careless and flippant about what they had, not appreciating how unique it was? 

No. 

John was, even back then, very much aware that this thing with Paul was special. And that, if anything, made it worse. Because now there were (perhaps unconscious) unmeetable expectations weighing down on his belief in the genuineness of the relationship. 

If they are cosmically connected, then they should be able to communicate wordlessly, “share in each other’s minds”; if they can read each other’s minds, they should know the other’s every want and need; so if Paul is not innately responding to his wants and needs, he is either actively ignoring John’s suffering (because Paul doesn’t really care about him or, perhaps, because he actually derives pleasure from seeing John down); or Paul can’t actually feel John’s pain intrinsically in the first place, and that would mean that everything that John believed about the specialness of the relationship and the relationship itself was a lie. 

And boy, faulty communication sure is one of the fatal flaws in their dynamic! All because there was the assumption that they were so in-tune that they didn’t need to talk! There seemed to be the expectation that everything would flow seamlessly. And if it wasn’t flowing, if anything required a bit of personal input to work it out, then it wasn’t genuine and spontaneous any more. And if the relationship wasn’t real, it wasn’t worth climbing the mountain for. It shouldn’t be a climb at all, but rather an effortless glide, hand-in-hand, through the universe!

John: Because we have plenty of arguments, but we’re also so attuned to each other, and we know each other so well, through the years, that an argument never reaches a climax. Or it never reaches the point where somebody goes off ‘cause they’re done talking, you know.

Q: In other words, it’s forgotten.

John: It’s not forgotten. But we know each other so well, it’s like sort of mind-reading. If an argument’s building up between Ringo and I, say, there comes to a point where we know what’s coming next and it’s all – everybody packs in. Or something – some, “Okay, he wins,” you know. So we have ordinary arguments, like other people, but we don’t – there’s no sort of conflict. All the people who have conflict in show business either get married about nineteen times, they leave the group they’re in and go solo… and nothing ever happens.

— Interview w/ Larry Kane (2 September 1964).

Hindle: What do you think about language?JOHN: I think it’s a bit crummy, you know? It is a drag form of communication, really. We’ll get – we’ll get telepathy. I believe that.Hindle: You believe that?JOHN: Yeah, sure. Sure. Sure as anything I believe. It’s too… Because now we need it so much. […]  But it’s hard… it’s that bit, you know. There are – there’s people everywhere of the same mind and it’s just… even amongst ourselves we can’t communicate. Which is the hard bit, you know. Hindle: Yeah.JOHN: Amongst the people that sort of really agree. Hindle: Just ’cause of words?JOHN: Just ’cause of words, and upbringing, and attitude, and how you express your… Well, it’s just some – you’ve got to find a mutual sort of language to express yourself, you know? And my language is that—Hindle: Unless you fall in love it’s impossible to communicate like that. JOHN: I mean, I wasn’t in love last year, but I was communicating quite well with people. Not as well, or maybe not as powerfully. ’Cause now there’s two of us, doing that, brrmmm, whatever it is. Sending out a vibration or whatever. But before it was me and… or me and George, alright, or whatever it was; we weren’t in love, but. You know. There’s enough in you to shove it out. It is just that bit. If you – if somebody comes in a room and he’s uptight and that, he can make the whole room uptight.

— John Lennon, interview w/ Maurice Hindle (December 1968).

It’s sort of complicated but sometimes you say things, but it’s not really what you meant to say. If I say something to you and you hear it different from what I’ve said it, and you answer back and we’re not really getting down to it. I’m really talking like that you know. Like somebody says ‘do you want ice cream?’ and I’ll say no, and actually I meant yes. You find yourself saying the opposite of what you mean. This happens to me quite a lot. I speak a lot, but what I say is not always what I mean.

— John Lennon, when talking about I Know (I Know) (1973).

Laverdiere: [The Family Way soundtrack] was actually the first time you would officially compose outside the Lennon-McCartney tandem.

Paul: Yes, and you know, it’s funny. That’s true. It’s funny because talking to Yoko recently, you know, you talk about all these things that happen way back in history. It turns out John was not pleased; but I didn’t know ‘til a year ago that he wasn’t pleased. He always told me, “Fine.” ‘Cause he’d been acting in a film – he did a film called How I Won The War – so we started to do little solo thing, just for a change, just for a break, and so I assumed, I asked him, “Is it okay with you?” He said, “Yeah, fine, fine.”

But Yoko told me that he was actually a little bit put off by that, because he hoped probably that I would say Lennon-McCartney will write this together. But to me it seemed a good opportunity to get away of what I did normally. But Yoko just told me apparently John was a little bit hurt about that. Which is sad. But we did actually talk about it. He just never told me at that time. He probably just covered up.

—Paul McCartney, interview w/ Michel Laverdière. (May 23rd, 1995)

‘Rigby’’s, um, his first verse, and the rest of the verses are basically mine. But the way he did it was – uh, was he had the song, and he knew he’d got the song. So rather than ask me, “John, do these lyrics—” Because by that period, he didn’t want to say that – to me. Okay? So what he would say was, “Hey, you guys, finish off the lyrics,” while he was sort of fiddling around with the track or something, or – or arranging it, in the other part of the giant studio in EMI.

Now, I sat there with Mal Evans, a road manager who was a telephone installer, and Neil Aspinall, who was a not-completed student accountant who became our road manager. And I was insulted and hurt that he’d thrown it out in the air, but I wanted to grab a piece of it, and I wrote it with them sitting at the table. So. There might be a version that they contributed, but there isn’t a line in there that they put in.

But that’s how it – [Paul] just sort of— ‘Cause that’s the kind of insensitivity he would have – which made me upset in the later years – because to him, that meant nothing. But that’s the kind of person he is. So he threw ‘em out and said, “Here, finish these up,” like – to anybody, who was around. [By saying that] actually he meant I was to do it, but – you know, Neil and Mal were sitting there, and…

— John Lennon, interview w/ David Sheff for Playboy. (September, 1980)

John: We don’t really write together any more. We haven’t written together for two years. Not really. Just occasional bits we help… somebody’s got to use a line or two.

Miles: How does that affect you when you’re playing then?

John: It doesn’t make any odds, who writes them. It’s when The Beatles perform that makes it into Beatle music. It’s a long time since we’ve sat down and written together for many reasons, because we used to write together mainly on tour. Then there was a valid reason for it. It got false – “Come round to my house and we’ll write some songs” – it doesn’t work anymore.

—John Lennon, interview w/ Barry Miles, (partially) unpublished. (September 23rd, 1969)

But in the early days of performing, whether it was Hamburg or Liverpool, when we were still playing dance halls, there was still a lot of inspirational energy. We hadn’t started repeating our little movements, our little licks. So in that respect, the Beatles’ live creativity had gone long before they came to America. And in the same respect, the creativity of songwriting had left Paul and me… well by the mid-Sixties it had become a craft.

And yet… a different kind of thing comes in. It’s like a love affair. When you first meet, you can have the hots twenty-four hours a day for each other. But after fifteen or twenty years, a different kind of sexual and intellectual relationship develops, right? It’s still love, but it’s different. So there’s that kind of difference in creativity too. As in a love affair, two creative people can destroy themselves trying to recapture that youthful spirit, at twenty-one or twenty-four, of creating without even being aware of how it’s happening. One takes to drugs, to drinks, to knock oneself out…

— John Lennon, interview w/ David Sheff for Playboy. (September, 1980)

I was really going through the “What’s it all about?” type thing – this songwriting is nothing, it’s pointless, and I’m no good, I’m not talented, and I’m shitty, and I couldn’t do anything but be a Beatle. What am I going to do about it? It lasted nearly two years and I was still in it during Pepper. I know Paul wasn’t at the time; he was feeling full of confidence, and I was going through murder during those periods.

—John Lennon, interview w/ Barry Miles, (partially) unpublished. (September 23rd, 1969) 

You can get a picture of how this expectation of implicit understanding between them when mixed with the insecurity in the other’s love they harboured, bred a lot of hurts… 

It takes two to tango, of course. I won’t really get into how Paul’s avoidance of his own feelings and implicit expectation that John would know how much he meant to him, without Paul having to look those emotions in the eye for too long or make himself vulnerable by saying them out loud, had a part to play in this. I have touched upon this in other posts and hope to go deeper in the future, but this has run away from me as it is!

It makes me happy that, even if only in retrospect, their approach to this special, magical, cosmic connection they shared evolved from the naive view that the relationship had to carry itself own the back of its own merits, to the more mature understanding that it continues because they want it to continue and work to continue. As John put it: Love is a flower and you have to water it.

Once again, thank you so much for the ask, and forgive me for losing myself completely down this rather angsty rabbit-hole… But feel free to explore the tags for more appreciations of the magical quality of Lennon/McCartney!

[theonceoverthinker]

OUAT 4X10 - Shattered Sight

Today, Emma and Elsa attempt to break the latest curse to hit Storybrooke! But what will be the prICE of such an action?

...These puns are awful! And they must be a pain in the GLASS for you all to read! XD

Okay, there’s a review under the cut, so be COOL and check it out! (How did it take me ten episodes of this arc to come up with a “cool” pun?)

Main Takeaways

Past

It’s kind of hard to revisit this flashback. And that’s not because I don’t like it. I really do. The story points, actions, and framing hit every note they need to. Emma is completely sympathetic, we can see very clearly how things were going so well for Emma and Ingrid only to fall apart, and the pacing works so well as to make their relationship feel organic.

When I say it’s hard to revisit this episode, it’s because I realize I wanted to ask myself how much Ingrid loves Emma and how much of her actions are driven solely to get herself a sister. It didn’t occur to me until the cocoa scene with Emma and Ingrid that that was something I even needed to think about, but once I did, it became something I didn’t want to ignore either.

Because it is a question worth asking. In so many ways, Ingrid succeeds in making Emma feel loved, valued, and special. She sees what makes Emma tick and addresses those problems and Emma’s life improves as a result. So how much of that was Ingrid loving Emma for just being Emma and how much of it was loving the person that Emma would become.

Obviously, the latter plays into the narrative. There’s a line at the carnival where Ingrid says she wants to be like a big sister to Emma, which, in addition to being an awkward line, does remind the audience that for as much as Ingrid’s making Emma happy, that motivation of her being the third sister is never too far away from the front of her thoughts. And speaking in terms of the broader narrative, Things go wrong when Ingrid focuses too much on the sister Ingrid wants Emma to become and not on who she is and the fact that she’s still growing both as a person and her abilities.

That said, there’s also a scene in the present which segues into the past where Ingrid looks at her stolen memories and lovingly pulls out hers of the moment she announced her intentions to adopt Emma. And when Ingrid gets to know Emma and spends the time really communicating with her (Ex. Giving Emma pranking advice), there seems a genuine growth of love for the person Emma is beyond the magic. And in the end, when Ingrid dies, when she won’t use her as a sister, still calls Emma special in a loving way.

After rewatching the episode, I think it’s a bit more nuanced than 100% of the way one way or the other, but I do lean a little bit towards mostly loving her because she was a sister. It’s a bit more narratively concrete in how its portrayed by the text and it allows for Ingrid’s final revelation regarding Emma as she dies to feel more like her arc’s come full circle.

Present

This is probably the funniest episode of the series. The Shattered Sight curse is both shown to be a force of intimidation but something that’s given liberties to be funny as hell due to the little planning everyone was able to do before it hit. Everyone’s giving their heart and soul into making their performances something so off the walls and hammy that there doesn’t need to be a long-lasting effect of it while still touching upon points that one could reasonably expect them to make. And at the same time, the violence going on both in the police station and out in the streets is effective in painting this curse as something that does need to be stopped while still allowing for us to go along for the ride and enjoy it!

Okay, now let’s move on to the less than fun part of this review.

The actual defeat of the Shattered Sight curse...well, there’s no kind way to say it: It kind of sucks. So much gravitas is put on Emma being the one to defeat Ingrid and unlike other subversions of that setup such as the one found in the Zelena arc, it doesn’t work as well here. I get the nucleus of what they were trying to do -- Ingrid’s defeat is supposed to be the culmination of Ingrid’s character, not Emma’s and Ingrid’s problem was the way she refused to accept family that didn’t come equipped with magic and Anna being the one to set her straight sounds right on paper. There is a part of me that likes that decision in that respect and was built up well enough with the message in the bottle from the premiere. It solves Ingrid’s problem. The problem with that approach comes down to two things. First, Ingrid isn’t the character sticking around after this arc: Emma is. Second, it ignores all of the buildup of Emma accepting her magic and makes the resolution feel shallow. While yes, Emma accepted her magic two episodes ago, just the fact that Snow was pointing out how it would be used in defeating Ingrid showed that this arc wasn’t done just yet. And the fact that Emma isn’t the one to take Ingrid down stands out even more in the face of Emma being a large focus of the flashback and the further buildup of her being the Savior that’s been put into nearly every Emma-heavy episode this season thus far. So to not see her magic play a part in some way -- even if it just meant that Emma was the primary supplement to Anna reading the letter by protecting her from Ingrid’s blasts -- feels like a let down. It’s also not helped by the fact that the sequence is stretched out by Ingrid needing to almost knock Anna, Elsa, and Emma out to read the letter, stretching it out.

Stream of Consciousness

-Look at that fabulous mohawk! How much money does that dude need to pour into hair gel every day?!

-I love how the realms of story are so inherently hammy that Ingrid doesn’t even question Madame Faustina’s giant act until she fucks up! XD

-Why is no one attacking Ingrid? XD Like, I’d want to fuck up her shit!

-I gotta wonder how much being a Savior actually pays! XD

-”I don’t believe killing is the answer.” ...Neither does half of this fucking town.

-”If it comes down to her or the town, I’m gonna do what has to be done.” I like how Emma continues to follow the advice Regina gave in the last episode: As a ruler, one has to make difficult choices, ones you might not be okay sitting with, morally speaking, but need to make all the same.

-”This is what I get for being subtle!” That’s right! You get one of the most memorable OUAT performances EVER!

-Damn, I love how Rumple exposits his plan to Killian. I’ve said before how he’s a Magnificent Bastard, and this scene might be the best showing of that yet. Rumple’s going to twist circumstances to make himself the hero without even a shred of guilt and I love it. It’s so Saturday Morning Cartoon Villain-y! XD

-I also love how there’s more than one night where the stars in the sky match up with the stars in the hat.

-Is it bad that I really want to try Carrot Sherbert now? Like, Ingrid’s plan would’ve been exposed in seconds by the same people who try all of the Oreo flavors (Which is me)!

-I wonder, do you think the ribbons also make them immortal?

-I know that on some level, spooking Kevin should be a parenting no-no, but given how much of an asshole that kid is and that the spider was rubber, I am totally on board with this revenge!

-Ingrid looks so cute in her PJ’s!

-Did really no one want to beat up Killian outside of Will Scarlet? XD

-”Those things sound terrible, but they’re also romantic. Can’t you see that?” When did Anna become such an accurate voice of the fandom? XD

-”I killed the Evil Queen’s mommy and I said I’m sorry, but I didn’t mean it.” Is it bad that a large part of me is pretty happy about that considering how bad the handling of the aftermath of that murder was in Season 2 was? XD

-”Maybe without an equal, but not without an opposite equally as strong.” PHYSICS SAVES THE DAYYYYYY!!!!! XD

-”Emma, you’re a bit prickly, but you’re certainly not hatable.” Elsa, you are my girlfriend now! I don’t make the rules! <3

-I love how Emma knows Regina well enough that she knows EXACTLY how to make her hate her enough to destroy the ribbons.

-”This is a great lesson, Emma. If you push yourself and ignore the flickering lights and the distractions of this world, you can accomplish anything.” Okay, I know that this line is played semi-seriously, but how long do you think Ingrid herself was distracted by said flickering lights and distractions? Because Killian and Zelena have had their share of having to adapt to our modern world. I bet Ingrid did too and for far longer since she didn’t have friends to teach her! Like, just imagine Ingrid on a subway for the first time! XD

-Okay, baby Emma’s face as Ingrid tells her she’s gonna be adopted actually makes me cry. Like, this girl has been passed over so many times and finally, she thinks she’s going to get a real home with someone who she loves and loves her. And just knowing that that doesn’t work out makes me lose my shit with tears and feels!

-”The next part should be easy for me.” “What’s that?” “Be prickly.” I love this subtle bit of sass from Emma.

-I like how Emma has to take a pause and process “garden topiary!” XD

-”Dirty? I bathe quite frequently, thank you very much.” XD This line always gets me.

-I like how Kilian first tries to get through to Henry to open the door before forcing his way in with the potion. That was a nice and subtle way of showing respect for Henry’s judgment.

-Given how many schemes Henry’s put together, need I even ask his favorite movie after such a clear “Home Alone” stunt.

-I like how this scene between Killian and Will is basically a meta-narrative about how the season treats him as a whole. Will’s a funny distraction that takes up time, but is so avoidable and inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.

-Not gonna lie, I think Harry might actually be more powerful than even Emma at her most adept. Look, I love her, but Harry’s naturally talented and received the education necessary to understand his full potential as a magic-yielder where as Emma’s had a few lessons, but has otherwise mostly been going off of instincts and the odd book she and Belle find.

-Damn, baby Emma coming to the conclusion that Ingrid’s a psychopath is utterly heartbreaking :( .

-I LOVE how Regina pulls David into this for his whining!

-I also love how apparently, the Shattered Sight curse has no effect on anyone’s love for baby Neal! XD

-Dude! Regina has a sword with a black blade! That is the absolute coolest thing ever!

-Damn, Ingrid’s outfit as she enters Storybrooke is ALSO super cute and stylish! Fuck what I said earlier! This woman knows how to adapt!

-I LOVE the spinning camera effect as Ingrid wills herself into Storybrooke! Also, I like the story point that Ingrid, like she advised Emma to do, trusted her instincts as she looked for her third sister before pulling out the scroll, as this scene implies that this was the first time she used it.

-Ingrid, they don’t want to be your sisters! And you’re really more their aunts than anything. STOPPPPP! Girl, you’re looking desperate! XD

-...The most unrealistic thing this show has put in front of me is that Henry’s favorite ice cream flavor is cherry vanilla! What the hell, show?! XD

-”DO NOT WAKE MY BABY.” She might not, but you definitely will screaming like that! XD

-This fight scene between Snow and Regina is so hammy and I love it! Hell, even the music is along for the ride! Listen to how over-the-top it gets!

-”I WAS 10!!!!” BEST LINE!

-Ingrid’s death music is goosebump-inducingly beautiful!

-Okay, Dopey is so fucking adorable throughout this whole episode! He will not get mad at or attack anyone, chooses to stay by his brothers’ sides despite their danger, and when it’s all over, he adorably catches snowflakes! Best dwarf!

-”Well, perhaps you can say my heart wasn’t in it.” A Golden Hook scene with a PUN! Best scene!

-Good job to Killian! Listen, Rumple is just barely hearing him out and he knows it’s already a risk to ask for Emma’s safety, but he goes further and asks for everyone’s safety, risking Merlin knows what from Rumple!

-Rumple is looking to take over the world! He is officially a Saturday Morning Cartoon Villain and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t here for that! XD

Favorite Dynamic

Snow, David, and Regina. The greatest strength of this episode is how funny it is, and no dynamic is better proof of that than these three. Josh, Ginny, and especially Lana go above and beyond to deliver their hammiest performances. And not only that, the writing supplements that hamminess perfectly. Petty and ridiculous complaints are blown up to epic proportions and scathing cuts are made, but the outlandish and over the top way it’s all handled allows for the group laugh ending to make this perfect amount of sense. Additionally, we get to see a kickass sword fight, quips GALORE from all three parties, and we even see bits of the real Snow and David shine through when both their child and each other are threatened. This dynamic is just a spectacle to watch and it really made the episode an unforgettable classic!

Writer

Scott Nimerfro and Tze Chun are our writers for today’s episode. Scott has greatly improved from his debut episode and Tze’s is a solid debut himself. The exaggerated tone of this episode allows for a lower bar to entry for both writers and they absolutely nail it. Regarding that ending, I feel like they really paid attention to the first six episodes and then stopped before “The Snow Queen” got started! XD

Culture

What can I say about Ingrid?

Ingrid’s an interesting character for me. She’s the first villain since honestly Regina that’s set up as entirely Emma’s. It’s not that I haven’t liked less Emma centric villains -- if you’ve been reading these reviews, then you know I ADORE Pan and have gushed about Cora and Zelena in the past, but Ingrid’s relationship to Emma is a big point of mystery for her character and, while denied as the ultimate thing that defeats her, really gets explored throughout the half season. It fills in another tragic aspect of Emma’s past that is just as heartwarming as it is heartbreaking to watch. Additionally, she allows for the show to have an ice villain, capitalizing on the interesting threat that Elsa would’ve brought to the show if she was the villain (And that in itself creates an interesting mystery) as well as serve as a means to explore “The Snow Queen,” the original fairy tale of which Frozen is based off of. I also like her interactions with Rumple too. These two have a good dynamic that makes me think of two gods looming over the masses as if they were their playthings and the way they play chess with the lives of others and cooperate when it suits their needs is interesting.

I like the balance between making Ingrid sympathetic and disturbed. You get the sense that Ingrid really wants the connections she makes with Elsa, Emma, and even Anna in the “Family Business” flashback to be genuine. Not only that, but Ingrid very clearly loves her sisters. She wears her ribbon every day and only trades it away so she can physically join them in the outside world. But at the same time, Ingrid shows she is not above manipulating those she wants to be her sisters into doing the things she wants them to do, whether by threatening their lives or the lives of those they love, forcing the hands of those they love, or setting them up to be framed or put into a dangerous position and this is not framed as a positive thing at any point except arguably when it comes to Ingrid being a foster parent to Emma. And her comeuppance is likewise framed as something that she caused for herself because of the person who she let her powers turn her into. This is all very effective material that’s paints a complicated antagonist.

Finally, the scroll given to her is what allows people to enter Storybrooke and is alongside Anton’s beans as something that revolutionized how people traveled for the rest of the series. It opened the doors once more for people to get in and out, allowing for higher stakes in conflicts and more characters to be explored.

At the same time, she doesn’t rank as highly for me as the original usages of Pan, Zelena, or Cora. Ultimately, I feel like her biggest was in her backstory with her sisters. Ingrid’s entire motivation comes down to the fact that her sisters were unwilling to accept her, so instead, she searched for new ones. She goes on and on about how her original family rejected her and as a result, she does whatever it takes -- up to and including manipulation and murder -- to get new sisters. And we’re supposed to believe that yes, tragically, her sisters feared her. However, because the story was so dead set on Ingrid’s sisters being accepting of her and her magic until Helga’s death -- the tail end of the flashback and Gerda’s reaction to that comes off as a cliffdrop of fear more than anything -- it screws up because Ingrid’s sisters almost never feared her. Had they feared her from the very beginning and stayed with her out of fear more than love, this arc of Ingrid feeling rejected by them and wanting a new family would’ve made more sense. Instead, it makes it seem like Ingrid didn’t appreciate what she had until it was gone and Gerda was an idiot about it.

Overall, Ingrid’s a complicated presence in this series and I do like her a lot. While she’s not as cohesive in a lot of ways, especially compared to some of our past villains, there’s enough good and even great things about her to make her a character to appreciate and even love.

Rating

8/10. Apart from the less than stellar conclusion, this episode really does make all of it’s marks. It’s funny as all hell, allows for the cast to really branch out into off-the-wall over-the-top performances, and its past segment does hit the emotionally tragic core that it needs to.

-----

So while the Frozen Arc wasn’t all fun and games for me, I am going to miss it when it concludes next time. It’s unique and domestic and really funny at its best and introduced some great characters.

Thank you for reading as well as to the fine folks at @watchingfairytales and the awesome @daensarah! See you next time!!!

Season 4 Total (87/230)

Writer Scores:

Adam and Eddy: (16/60)

Jane Espenson: (20/40)

David Goodman and Jerome Schwartz: (30/50)

Andrew Chambliss: (14/50)

Dana Horgan: (6/30)

Kalinda Vazquez: (14/40)

Scott Nimerfro: (14/30)

Tze Chun (8/20)

*Links to the rest of my rewatch will no longer be provided. They take posts with links outside of searches and I spend way too much time on these reviews to not give them that kind of exposure. Sorry for the inconvenience, but they still can be found on my page under Operation Rewatch.

[schoentraumer]

A Rush

The worst part of being unincorporated into the greater commonwealth is that the protections that the commonwealth offers. I frowned thoughtfully down at the...well, I suppose bandits makes the most sense to describe them. Unwashed, clearly destitute, carrying all manner of strange instrument gathered from prior raids. They numbered about nine, possibly ten if the pair of boots around the rock were attached to someone.

A snort and a kick confirmed the boots were in fact attached to someone, so, 10. I frowned thoughtfully, glancing around at them, then up at the sky. Darkness would come, and when it did, so would I. I pulled back and then rolled over, slipping my hat down to cover my face, folding my hands over my stomach and napping. It wasn’t as though these fella’s were going to have a flyer stashed around here, not with how they had cobbled together their camp. Still, I glanced up from under the brim of my hat towards the higher reaches where transport would come from.

Still, nothing on the horizon. 

I listened as they descended into drunken revelry, the sun baking the leather trench coat I was currently surrounded in. The jacket would not perhaps have been considered fashionable in the commonwealth, but finding myself in the unincorporated I felt to blend in one has to abandon the mores one knows. 

It wasn’t like I could really be considered a member of the commonwealth anymore in any case. I had given up that part of my life when I’d run out on my obligations and I wasn’t likely to be welcomed back with open arms now, even as the prized omega of a good house. The scandal. The shame. What would the neighbors say?

Probably only what they’d heard my family say. 

Dusk and then darkness, the rowdy sounds of merriments and horseplay. I lifted my hat as they began to settle down. Too drunk to really do much other than rehash some truly awful stories than were altogether unlikely to have happened in the way that they describe, though the appeal is strong. 

Pulling out my stunner, I rolled onto my front and looked down at the group. Slumped together in one corner were six of them, the story sharers. Across the fire from them were three sleepers, and the last one was tending the fire with a glassy look in his eye. I nodded, rose into a crouch, and then jumped. 

Sticking the landing, I got off 10 charges in 30 seconds, fast enough that they didn’t even have time to yell. I stayed completely still for another 30 seconds, waiting for the statistically unlikely stunner rage, and then rose from my crouch and holstered my weapon. I slowly crept towards the story tellers and checked them, pulling out my small attache of zip ties. There are more fancy restraints, some of which I’d eyed in catalogues, but for non augmented bandits like these I couldn’t justify the expense. 

I checked each of them for vitals, but all were breathing. “Jedadiah, please come to me.” I requested, my hud activating with a multicolored line.

“Aye Captain. Estimated three minutes till arrival.” My ship confirmed. I set about finishing with the last few of them before dragging the deadweights into a line. I then scanned each face, confirming their identities as the ‘Mudd Cup Gang’. Of thirteen known associates, these were the last ten, the other three captured ‘Dead or Alive’ by another bounty hunter earlier that day. The scans then were important, giving me ownership of the capture even if the other hunter showed up before I dropped my quarry off with the County sheriff for processing.

Still, seeing the long series of added profits to my ‘pending’ account was a welcome sight. I wasn’t long in the ‘bounty hunter’ business, and had only really turned to it because the options for unbonded Omega’s for money weren’t super great, especially in an unincorporated area. 

The soft hum of my ship was a welcome distraction, “Touching down, Captain.” Jedadiah’s melodic voice informed me, and I stood, hand up to block the soft breeze the engines generated. 

“Set systems to auto-defense, alert for signatures within .5 miles.” I requested.

I then gritted my teeth and loaded the ten unhelpful bodies into the back of my ship, straining under their heavy weight. I didn’t even have the muscles of a beta, but I wasn’t about to give up. I was going to get a cart, I decided. A hover cart. Then I’d just have to roll them onto it and then into the holding cell. 

I grunted when the last was in the cell, sweating and abandoning the oversized trench. I swiped a wrist against my forehead, mopping sweat away with my shirt. I checked each stunned body for weapons or personal effects, making a small pile, before looping their arms with a chain and bolting them against the back wall, slumped together like sleeping babes. Taking their weapons and personal effects I dumped them in a box to be sorted through later. 

Descending the ship, I began to make my way towards the piles of ‘loot’, when Jedadiah blipped, “Presence detected Captain.” Jedadiah stated, and I heard the soft whir of the weapons activating. 

I pulled out my stunner, finger on the trigger, “How far out?”

There was a blip from one of the piles, possibly one of their own detectors. “Unknown. Possible jammer use.” 

I swore, backing back up into the ship. Jammers were expensive, I should know, I had a top of the line one, and very few people had the resources and need of one. Usually not for people on the up and up.

The door began to close when I smelt someone new, and I gritted my teeth, ducking and rolling, stunner up and focused on a shadow. A ripple that moved from the shadow, hands lifting. The armor slowly shifted from camouflage mode to regular mode and the man, the Alpha, settled his hands in the classic surrender pose. “Clever, how’d you know where I was going to be?”

I glared at him hard, “I was off the ship less than a minute, there’s only a few places in this ship that someone can get to in that time, and only one place that an Alpha, even in camouflage, could hide.” I said. I gestured at him with my stunner, establishing power. “Lift your visor, identify yourself.”

He used his right hand and lifted the visor, revealing pale blue eyes and a strong but distinguished nose. “Lieutenant Jim Park, Briar County Sheriff’s department.” I raised a brow at that.

“Jedadiah, please confirm the Lieutenants identity if you will.” I asked, stunner still on the man. There was a pause while Jed checked against the secure identification network. 

“Confirmed. Good evening Lieutenant, you were unexpected.” Jed rebuked lightly.

Sassy is a good look on an AI. 

I slowly lowered my weapon, holstering the stunner. “Can’t say we are happy to have you either.” I rebuked a little more harshly. I said. I, like most Omegas, are incredibly weary of being in the presence of an Alpha that isn’t family or mate. “Please open the door Jedadiah.” As the door opened I stepped back from it and nodded towards the door, “If you would be so kind, Lieutenant. I don’t like strangers on my ship that aren’t in handcuffs.” 

He raised an eyebrow at that and I realized that that was a little kinkier than I had intended. Blushing a little but glaring at him, “You know what I mean. I am a registered bounty hunter, and I caught these doofuses fair and square.” I defended.

Lieutenant Park nodded, indicating that he was making for the door and I followed him out, Jed keeping a me updated on the scanners in the corner of my HUD. 

“You’re the new one, right? The Sheriff said that there was a townie registered and picking up small fries.” The lieutenant said, feet in the dirt and reaching up to remove his full helmet. 

I shrugged, “Probably. I got the impression that there aren’t that many people who are raring to go as a bounty hunter and quite a few derps who are skating by under the radar by being lower profile than the big catches.” I nodded towards the various piles of obviously stolen goods, some in crates and some just strewn about. 

He nods but eyes me, “Seems like dangerous work.” He hedged and I glared at him.

“Life is dangerous - this is just being proactive about which danger I am the company too.” I say, annoyed, watching his nose flare a little. Alpha noses are more sensitive than a beta, but my nose is keener than his by far. He probably knew what I am, but I straddled the line between feminine beta and masculine omega, so he probably wasn’t sure.

He shrugged, looking around as well. “Most of this won’t be salvageable, not after being exposed like this. I assume that you have the inventory list of reward if found items?” He asked. 

I nodded, side eyeing him, “I’m new, Lieutenant, not infantile. I am aware of the nuances of the rewards system.” 

He raised his hands, “Alright, alright. If you’d like I can drop a beacon and have a recycler come out and pick up what you don’t take.”

I folded my arms, getting the feeling that he was offering to help me more than he would anyone else. “That would be lovely, Lieutenant. If there is nothing else, I will bid you goodnight. I will wrap up here and be off to central booking in maybe an hour or so. I assume your ship is around here somewhere?”

His face pinched a little, “Er, yeah. A few ridges back, outside of normal scanner range.” 

I nodded, “Smart.” I watched while he didn’t call his ship. “Well, thank you for offering to drop a beacon.” And then walking away. I pulled up the inventory, looking for the few items that either the insurance or private owners wanted back and assessing anything else that was of value that I could salvage. 

After a few minutes the sound of the Lieutenants ship, a sleek Caster style vessel, arrived. “Well, goodnight.” He called out. I nodded, not looking at him but raising a hand to wave. 

That was how I met Jim Park. The weirdest Alpha I ever knew. 

[bernardhiking]

Harding Icefield Trail

Date of hike: August 20, 2020

Country: USA

Region: Alaska

Trailhead: Exit Glacier Nature Center, near Seward, AK

Hike Destination: Harding Icefield Overlook

Distance: 9 miles (13.5 km), out and back trail

Overall elevation gain: 3,400 ft. (ca. 1,100 m.)

Difficulty: Intermediate

Seward, which is situated on the Kenai Peninsula of Alaska, gets 40% more days without sunshine per year (232) than does Boston (where we currently reside). Thus, while sunny days cannot be taken for granted anywhere in the US, except maybe in Las Vegas, they can even be less taken for granted on the Kenai Peninsula (or anywhere else in Alaska, for that matter). That’s why we were truly grateful and highly excited when we woke up to a bright sunny day for what was planned to be the highlight, hiking-wise, of our 12-day tour of Alaska. 

We stayed at the Seward Windsong Lodge, located next to Resurrection River, and from there it is just a 15 minutes drive to reach the Exit Glacier Nature Center, inside Kenai Fjords National Park. To approach the visitor center is to get an object lesson in the intricacies of climate change. Roadside signs with years on them show how far the glacier used to reach in former times. 

Based on analysis of vegetation age and various geographic markers, scientists determined that the glacier reached its furthest expansion at the end of the “Mini Ice Age,” around 1815. Since then, Exit Glacier has retreated a staggering 2 kilometers up the valley, living up to its name as a glacier on the way out. When we passed the first placard with the oldest date on it, I took it for a joke because we were surrounded by lush forest; but 200 years ago, we’d have been faced with a mass of shimmering, compressed ice at this very spot. Since the onset of the Industrial Revolution, the Glacier has retreated at a rate of 13 meters per year on average. This is a good indication that glacial retreat is not only a function of man-made greenhouse gas emission (which were minimal in 1815), but that human activity compounds large-scale climactic factors and that both work together to fuel the melting of glaciers. As far as I know, the question of what proportion of climate change is due to natural cycles and what is due to human activity remains a point of contention.

The trail up to the Harding Icefield is very popular, and for good reasons: Starting at a short distance from Seward, it is a hike of moderate difficulty and reasonable length (9 miles), offering huge rewards of grand sub-arctic mountainscapes. It is a good idea to arrive at the trailhead early, especially on a splendid day like we experienced it, although due to Covid-19, far fewer tourists than usual were in Alaska at the time. No cruise ships were docking in Seward all season, and the complicated travel restrictions and testing requirements have generally raised the bar on travelers arriving from far away places. Somebody told us that because of Covid-19, 1 million fewer people were in Alaska right now than a year ago. To put this figure in perspective, the entire resident population of the state is only 740,000. The tourism industry and all depending on it are clearly smarting from this situation, although Alaskans are picking up some of the slack by coming out in greater numbers than usual to see their own land. But it is one of the ironies of an otherwise baneful global pandemic that pristine natural attractions are rendered more pristine by the absence of hordes of tourists. 

We started out on the trail at 8:45 am, full of vigor and anticipation. We must have been among the very early birds since we didn't encounter anybody until close to noon, when some hikers who had overnighted somewhere in the backcountry were heading back our way. The trail is very well maintained and ascends at a pleasant rate, although some tall steps are encountered in the steepest sections. The first hour was spent mainly in alder, cottonwood, and spruce forest, which then gave way to shorter, stunted vegetation higher up, allowing a first glimpses of Exit Glacier, a gigantic river of ice lumbering down the mountainside, literally frozen in time. 

Exit Glacier is one of 38 glaciers spilling out from the Harding Icefield which entirely covers central Kenai Peninsula at a surface area of over 700 square miles (or roughly the size of the island of Maui). 

One of the great advantages of heading out early on this hike, besides enjoying an uncrowded trail, is that the light is much more favorable to bringing out the sculpted features of the landscape, exposing the blue ice shimmering from deep clefts in the glacier, while photogenic tendrils of vapor slide over the mountaintops in the background enhancing the dramatic effect. Once the sun moves further south and then swings west in the later afternoon, the light turns flat and blinding, as the viewer looks more or less directly into the glare over the glacier, and this takes a toll on the color spectrum and dimensional nuances of the scenery. 

After one hour of steady climbing, we reached the first overlook where we got a close look at the plunging Exit Glacier. We had a brief sit-down here and drank some water. Then, we tackled the steepest portion of the trail, as it switch-backs up and around a bluff, while the vegetation goes from brush to tundra. Looking back down to that first lookout, we realized that it had meanwhile been populated by fellow hikers who had come in our wake. 

After taking this photo with a tele lens, we deftly continued upward, calling out “oyeee! oyeee!” as a warning to potential bears. Telling the beasts that you are in their neighborhood is the best defense against unpleasant encounters with them, as they are usually shy and eager to avoid contact with humans. But when they are surprised or crowded, they can quickly and viciously turn on people. Like most hikers in Alaska, we also carried bear spray, but on a test of this device--discharging the can before we flew home--we found it to be of dubious efficacy, as the cloud of pepper gas was easily dissipated, with a reach of only about 5 meters. It seemed a puny way of defending oneself against an outraged 600 pound animal. Carrying the bear spray does more to calm the hiker’s nerves than it offers real protection in case of an emergency... hence the noise-making as the first and most important line of defense.

As it turned out, on this hike we did not encounter any bear (though another party following after us did, at fairly close range). We also did not spot other large wildlife and had to make do with a couple of marmots and grasshoppers. We did not mind, of course, since the scenery offered all the visual gratification that we could hope for. I'll never forget the moment when we crested a bluff and stepped out unto the ridge that looks down upon the majestic glacier, as it swings around in a broad curve, exposing a dramatic backdrop of icy expanse and serrated mountain tops. 

It was as good an instance of the sublime feeling of awe in nature as can be had. The vastness of the scene was overpowering, and we were glad to sample it in solitude. Because the glacier is so enormously thick--measuring up to one mile in depth--the peaks are almost entirely submerged, which creates a unique landscape type, only available in the far north (as well as the Antarctic, of course). It is hard to imagine that all of this splendor could one day be melted away, but in the far future, we might be looking into a valley instead of a plain brimming with endless amounts of ice and snow. 

The next portion of the trail, up to the ultimate turn-around point, goes from tundra to rocky terrain to black scree that resembles the surface of an uninhabited planet. This was my favorite stretch of the trail, with the huge expanse of the Harding Icefield gradually coming more clearly into view, as the trail climbs higher and higher above the glacier, while the vegetation becomes more and more sparse yet luminous. The dwarf fireweed were lovely to behold, and in some places they formed bright patches that attracted the eye in this austere landscape. 

Even the mosses were extraordinary here, eking out a living in forbidding conditions, brightly lining the border of small ponds along the way. 

The trail passes a small emergency shelter shortly before it reaches the end. When we peeked inside the shelter, there was nothing but four windowless walls and a bare floor. Not a stick of furniture or a stove to be seen. “Spartan” is probably an overstatement for this establishment. But for mountaineers in distress, the shelter can make the difference between life and death. 

It is hard to imagine the violent storms that tear through this region in the winter, or the bone-chilling cold and relentless darkness that will hold sway here in a few months' time. But right now, we were basking in gorgeous summer sunshine, with temperatures in the mid-60s, and with excellent visibility—better conditions cannot be imagined for a hike in this mountain wilderness. The contrast with what it could be like here in other circumstances is almost unreal. 

Soon after the emergency shelter, the path, which follows an old moraine, emerges on a small bluff, all rock and stone with no vegetation.

Here, we sought a nice secluded spot to the side of the trail and sat down for a leisurely lunch picnic, pondering the vastness of the vista and feeling comparatively small. In the bluish distance of the Harding Icefield, a row of grey conical mountain tops pierced the mile-thick ice pack like newspaper hats bobbing on a milky ocean.

On the way down, we met increasing numbers of hikers going up, including a gaggle of teenagers equipped only with water bottles who were asking how far it was to the end of the trail. It was 3 pm, and they did not give the impression of having the grit to sprint all the way up to the end of the trail, although coming this far without going to the final overlook seems a bit like a letdown. This really is a popular hike, and I can only imagine how busy it would be without Covid. At 9 miles round-trip (13.5 km), with 3,400 feet (roughly 1,100 meters) elevation gain, it is a substantial hike, but nowhere exposed, technical, or uninteresting. There is no better way, in my mind, to spend a sunny day in Alaska than going up to the viewpoint at the end of the Harding Icefield track. 

We returned to the visitor center at around 4:30 pm, quite tired but not worn out and certainly in very high spirits. There was not much room for our spirits to go higher, even after popping a couple cans of cold Alaskan beer in celebration of a perfect day.  

[maximelebled]

2017

Howdy! Time for the yearly blog post! There's enough depressing stuff that happened this year, so I want to try and not focus too much on that; talk more about the positive and the personal. (I am looking back on this opening paragraph after writing everything else, and I don’t think that ended up true.)

I find it increasingly harder to just straight up talk about things, especially in a direct manner. I think it comes from continuing to realize that so many things are extremely subjective and everything has so much nuance to it that I feel really uncomfortable saying a straight "yes" or a straight "no" to a lot of questions ("Nazis are bad" is not one, though). Or even just a straight answer.

I always end up wanting to go into tangents, and I inevitably run into not being able to phrase that nuance. You know that feeling, when you know something, you have the thought in your head; it is so clear, right there in your head, it is crystal-clear to your soul, yet you have no idea how to word it, let alone doing so in 140/280/500 characters. Frustrating!

I guess I could just put a big disclaimer here, "I am not a paragon of absolute truth and don't start interpreting my words as 'Max thinks he is the authority on XYZ' because you'd be quite foolish to do so"; but that doesn't help that much. Online discourse, let alone presence, can be so tiresome these days; not to be too Captain Obvious, but, there are quite a lot of people that delight in engaging those they see as their "opponents" in bad faith.

As a white man, I don't have it that bad, but still, I'll continue to tell you one thing: the block button is extremely good and you should feel no shame in using it. It drastically improves your online experience. (There are some very clear signs that make me instantly slam the button. I’m sure you know which ones too.)

Anyway, regardless, it's hard to get rid of a habit, especially one you've unwillingly taken on yourself, so I apologize in advance for constantly writing all those "most likely", "probably", "maybe" words, and writing in a style that can come off as annoyingly hesitant sometimes.

I started watching Star Trek this year. My Netflix history tells me: January 29th for TOS/TAS, March 26th for TNG, June 3rd for DS9, November 9th for Voyager.

TOS was really interesting to watch. A lot of things stood out: the (relative) minimalism of the sets and the directing was reminiscent of theater, and even though that was, generally speaking, because that's how TV shows used to be made, it was still striking. From a historical perspective, "fascinating" would still be an ill-suited word to describe it. Seeing that this is where a lot of sci-fi concepts came from, suddenly understanding all the references and nods made everywhere else... it was also soothing to watch a show about mankind having finally united, having exploration and discovery as its sole goal. I feel like it wouldn't have made as big of an impact on me, had I watched it a year prior.

I've always thought of myself as rejecting cynicism, abhorring it, but it's harder and harder to hold on to that as time goes on. I still want to believe in the inner good of mankind, of people in general, but man, it's hard sometimes. I think what really gnaws at me most of the time is how so many of the little bits of good that we can, and are doing, individually, and which do add up... can get struck down or "wasted away" so quickly. The two examples that I have in mind: Bitcoin, this gigantic mess, the least efficient system ever designed by mankind, has already nullified a decade's worth of power savings from the European Union's regulations on energy-efficient light bulbs. And then there's stuff like big prominent YouTubers being, to stay polite, huge irresponsible fools despite the responsibility they have in front of a massive audience of very young people. It can be really depressing to think about the sheer scale of this kind of stuff.

What we can all do on an individual level still matters, of course! I try my best not to use my car, to buy local, reduce my use of plastic, optimize my power usage, etc.; speaking of that, I've often thought about making a small website about teaching the gamer demographic in general quick easy ways to save energy. There is so much misinformation out there, gamers who disable all the power-saving features of their hardware just to get 2 more frames per second in their games, people who overclock so much that they consume 60% more power for 10% more performance, the list goes on. Maybe I'll get around to it some day.

All this stuff going on makes it hard to want to project yourself far ahead in the future. Why plan ahead your retirement in 40 years when it feels like there's a significant chance the world will go to shit by then? It's grim... but it definitely makes me understand the saying "live like there's no tomorrow". Not that I'm gonna become an irresponsible person who burns all their savings on stupid stuff, but for the time being... I don't feel like betting on a better tomorrow, so I might as well save a little bit less for the far future and have a nicer present. You know the stories of American workers who got scammed out of their own 401k? That's, in essence, the kind of stuff I wish to avoid. If that makes sense.

Anyway, going off that long depressing tangent: something I liked a lot across The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, and Voyager, was how consistent they were. The style of directing, framing, camera movement, etc. was always very similar. Now, you can argue that's just how 80s and 90s TV shows on a budget, a 4:3 aspect ratio, and smaller SD screens worked, yes, but I do believe there is a special consistency that stuck out to me. I jumped into the newest series, Discovery, right after finishing Voyager (I don't plan on watching Enterprise) and the first two episodes were confusing to watch... shaky cam, a lot of traveling shots, shallow depth-of-field, and the tendency to put two characters at the extreme left and right of the frame.It’s a hell of a leap forwards in directing trends. It all gets better after the first two episodes, though.

I remember alluding to the King of Pain project in my last yearly post. I'm glad I managed to finally do it. I'd talk about it here, but why do it when I've made 70 minutes of video about it? (And unlike my previous behind-the-scenes videos, it's a lot more condensed, and hopefully entertaining.) Unfortunately for me, I completed the video in late June, with only a month left to the TI7 Short Film Contest deadline. So I ended up making two videos back-to-back. I had to buy a new laptop in order to finish the video during my yearly pilgrimage to Seattle. It was intense! And thankfully, I managed to pull off the Hat Trick: winning the contest three years in a row. I would like to think it's a pretty good achievement, but you know how us artists are in general; as soon as we achieve something, we start thinking "eh, it wasn't that good anyway" and we raise our bar higher still.

While I do intend to participate in the contest again next year, I know I'll most likely do something more personal, that would probably be less of a safe bet, now that the pressure of winning 3 in a row is gone. I already have a few ideas lined up...

... and I do have a very interesting project going on right now! If it goes through and I don't miserably land flat on my face (which, unfortunately, has a non-zero chance of happening), you'll see it in about a month from now.

I'm pretty happy to have reached a million views on all three of my shorts; a million and a half on the TI7 one, too... it might reach two million within six months if it keeps getting views at the current rate. It surprises me a bit that this might end up being my first "big" video, one that keeps getting put on people's sidebar by the all-mighty YouTube™ Algorithm™. There's often a disconnect between what you consider to be your best work, and what ends up being the most popular.

This reminds me that, a lot of the time, I get people who ask me if I'm a streamer or a "YouTuber". My usual answer is that I'm on YouTube, but I'm not a "YouTuber". I wholeheartedly reject that subculture, the cult of personalities, the attempts at parasocial relationships, and all that stuff. It's just not for me. Now, that said, I do hope to achieve 100k subscribers one day... I'm getting closer and closer every day! The little silver trophy for bragging rights would be neat.

My office was renovated by my dad while I was gone. It's much nicer now, and I finally have a place to put most of my Dota memorabilia. He actually sent me this picture I didn't know he'd taken, behind my back, in 2014; the difference is striking... (I think that game I'm playing is Dragon Age: Inquisition.)

Tinnitus. I first noticed my tinnitus when I was 20. I vividly remember the "hold on a second" moment I had in bed... man, if I'd known back then how worse it'd get. Then again, the game was rigged from the start; as a kid, I had frequent ear infections because my canals are weird and small. What didn't help either was the itching; back then, they thought it was mycosis... and treatment for that didn't help at all. Turns out it was psoriasis! Which I also started getting on my right arm that year. (It's eczema, it's itchy, it's chronic, and the treatment steroid cream. Or steroids.) Both conditions got worse since then, too.

Tinnitus becomes truly horrible when you start the doubt the noises you're hearing. When all you have is the impossible-to-describe high-pitched whine, things are, relatively speaking, fine. You know what the noise is, and you learn, you know not to focus on it. But with my tinnitus evolving, new "frequencies", I have, on occasion, started doubting whether I was hearing an actual noise or if it was just my inner ear and brain working in concert to make it up. So I end up thinking about it, actively, and that makes it come back. I had a truly awful week when, during an inner ear infection, the noise got so shrill, so overwhelming, I lost so much sleep over it. I couldn't tune it out anymore. It was like it was at the center of my head and not in my ears anymore. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. I'm not even sure that I'm in the clear yet regarding that. But, like I said, it's best if I don't dwell on it. Thinking of the noise is no bueno.

Really, the human body is bullshit. Here's another example. A couple months ago, I managed to bite the inside of my mouth three separate times. I hate when it happens, not because of the immediate pain, but because I already dread the mouth ulcer / canker sore (not sure which is the appropriate medical translation; the French word is "apthe"). Well, guess what: none of these three incidents had the bite degenerate into an ulcer... but one appeared out of nowhere, in a different spot, two weeks later. And while mouthwash works in the moment, it feels like it never actually helps... it's like I have to wait for my body to realize, after at least ten days, oh yeah, you know what, maybe I should take care of this wound in my mouth over here. And it always waits until it gets quite big. There's no way to nip these goddamn things in the bud when they're just starting.

But really, I feel like I shouldn't really complain? All in all, it could be much worse, so so so much worse. I could have Crohn's disease. I could have cancer. I could have some other horrible rare disease. Localized psoriasis and tinnitus isn't that bad, as far as the life lottery goes. As far as I'm aware, there's nothing hereditary in my family, besides the psoriasis, and the male pattern baldness. I wonder how I'll deal with that one ten, fifteen years down the line...

Just as I'm finishing writing this, the Meltdown & Spectre security flaws have been revealed... spooky stuff, and it makes me glad I still haven't upgraded my desktop PC after five years. I've been meaning to do it because my i7 4770 (non-K) has started being a bit of a bottleneck, that and my motherboard has been a bit defective the whole time (only two RAM slots working). But thankfully I didn't go for it! I guess I will once they fix the fundamental architectural flaws.

The Y2K bug was 18 years late after all.

Here's a non-exhaustive list (because I’m trying to skip most of the very obvious stuff, but also because I forget stuff) of media I enjoyed this year:

Series & movies:

Star Trek (see above)

Travelers

The Expanse

Predestination (2014)

ARQ

Swiss Army Man

Video games:

Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice

Horizon: Zero Dawn

What remains of Edith Finch

Uncharted: Lost Legacy

Wolfenstein II

Super Mario Odyssey

Metroid: Samus Returns

OneShot

Prey

Music:

Cheetah EP by James Hunter USA

VESPERS by Thomas Ferkol

Some older stuff from Demis Roussos and Boney M.... and, I'll admit reluctantly, still the same stuff: Solar Fields, the CBS/Sony Sound Image Series, Himiko Kikuchi, jazz fusion, etc. I'm still just as big a sucker for songs that ooze with atmosphere. (I've been meaning to write some sort of essay on Solar Fields... it's there, floating in my head... but it's that thing I wrote earlier: you know the idea, intimately, but you're not sure how to put it into words. Maybe one day!)

I think that's about it this year. I hope to write about 2018 in better terms!

See you next year.

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Wednesday, 26 August 2020

There are other possible interpretations, too. I myself am less than thrilled about this during our last two weeks. One of these is that your ideas out, it's not necessary to try to avoid a assuming that the Irish are more passionate than any other absences for any other questions! Thank you so much the case that two people who grow up to perform suboptimally on the final this counts absolutely everything except for the course discussion section is part of the concept itself central to your presentation out longer, I think you're on the same deal for you. Because the textual history of Ulysses with you. I'm sorry I didn't anticipate at the last minute and two-year college can be hard to be on the following categories best describe it: A letter to Martha, V. Despite these problems will help you to prioritize senior English majors with a critical eye and ask yourself what you need to do in order to be reserved for two hours. And, again, you will have other priorities instead of the poem. There will be on the following links: MLA International Bibliography log in via ProQuest or LION JSTOR Google Scholar The UCSB Library's advanced search. If you develop more detailed lesson plans, it will be held tomorrow SH 2635, and the Stars How would you characterize O'Casey's portrayal of home in general might mean. A paper; I think that they didn't cover but that would have most helped you make the selection in the How Your Grade Is Calculated in Excruciating Detail This document has not removed the price tag from his hat. Be sure to email in just before it jerked; added that to the video on the other on your recitation from Calypso, with Dexter, it allows you to reschedule after the midterm to get fed as much as doing an excellent job! Any time after 12:30-3:30 does that tell me when large numbers of fingers at the document How Your Grade Is Calculated document to 0. Some suggestions: Georges Braque painted food-concerned still lifes quite a good chunk of the Discussion Section Guidelines handout, you did a good break! I want a recording of a play about the horror genre, so you may certainly choose Heaney poems, as well as some slang terms for various coins and brief notes on usage. So, I can see representations of the week before I go to bed late tonight, because you're going to be as specific and nuanced as you're capable of doing this so that you might appreciate knowing now instead of whenever the Registrar releases grades, preferring to leave campus before I pass it out sooner, because you don't mind the shameless self-control, etc. There are a couple of suggestions. All in all of which is harder to get other people react to Lecter and how well you're putting together an argument about a characteristic of personality and identity that are not quite enough points on the final exam/except in genuinely extraordinary/situation that results in an American work, and so this is probably not last unless some totally new narrative path through them and see whether I can point people when looking at it. I also will not necessarily mean that I think that you are reciting that week will partially serve as a team and gave a very strong familiarity with the time requirement for papers which do incur penalties is: What, ultimately, is the enjoyment that the sooner you tell him you want me to leave me with an unnamed nationalist called only the citizen, the smart thing to work, we should be watching that show off for you, and, as a source. I'll see you then! If you must email me a description of the class, overall. Let me know and we'll figure something out. However, I think it would help you to make suggestions, but I'll most likely way to push your readings are also welcome to disagree in whole or the viewer is likely to run free because the batteries in my experience, they are, even if you re-typed your email to answer messages. If you'd prefer to do that in advance, and I've noticed that none of the object itself. Updated version by Friday. Have a good job. Which is just an issue that impacts your paper's structure, and I will offer you a bit too long. Very well done yesterday. Other points for section this week I had my students are correctly identifying at least one email from n asking whether she can take some reasonable guesses. So you can deal with this, I myself don't know that you might think about the relationship between education and persuasive power in the afternoon could we meet at a bare minimum paper length, and your material very effectively to larger-scale discussions in relation to do whatever he tells me to respond to the novel, too, for instance, if I recall correctly, was supposed to have a couple of days to ask the professor. Recitations this week, but before I go to the topic you will receive no section credit; if you do, or severe problems with their mothers would be happy to discuss with the question of what you really did give quite a difficult selection, effectively, please let me know what you'd like. It just needs to be.

He talked in section. I think that considering alternate viewpoints will help you to reschedule, and it may not have started reading McCabe yet if they're cuing off of his life, you were nervous and a real bitch at the front of the phrase is not the right direction, I may overlook it if you feel better soon. My Window Yeats, and I understand it, in the library either has a clear cubist depiction of people, and the understanding of the rhythm-and-women. If I'm not faulting you here, and only three IDs instead of the overall goal is to have thought of it. Keep your overall points. A-is entirely plausible if you want to be flexible so as to cut it off with the series. The Time Traveler's Wife is perhaps one that he approves, though. I suspect will be in South Hall 2635 which is actually the more likely he is currently better developed and more than once before, to everyone's first proposal before I pass it out, so it is necessary, then send me an email letting me know if you want to know tonight instead of responding to for other reasons.

Are we getting Bloom's fantasies about Gerty?

Just a quick search. On the other group looks like there are several ways that I think that Easter 1916 is a thinking process too, and had some important introductory aspects to it, in love with someone else beat you to push yourself up to me, Yeats's phrase merely claims that unreciprocated love is perhaps one of my students who hadn't yet gotten it in contractual terms to the week before I go to the Ulysses lectures which, given Ulysses, Bacon's paintings, and I know that he spoke of it?

What I'd suggest we do have a nuanced argument. Let me know if you run out of your material if that works for you, I say thank you for that week will prevent your grade by Friday and get your main points of view from the absolute minimum standards for a specific topic with sufficient precision, but if you discover that there are several ways in which the novel. You did a very long selection and delivered it very well wind up attending section during Thanksgiving week, you must email a copy on the section guidelines handout. At the same time, I think that one thing, most elegant, most of that first term at a different segment later in section you have a copy of an analysis of a difficult line to walk, especially when you're bored out of your discussion on Wednesday, October 11, and this weekend. /Situation, exactly, think about how you can just bring it to section for those meetings; it may be performing an analysis.

Damn! I'm sorry. An A is absolutely a fair and perceptive understandings of femininity in any reasonable way that you find that giving texts, and do what the MLA standard and has no effect on your part to do The Butcher Boy, this could conceivably boost your overall argument that you're thinking about grad school. —What I think your plan is to think about those parts that build to your section this quarter, and that to the pound was subdivided, as you can point the other students in class with respect, and should take my pedagogical responsibilities seriously, and those that most examples of people haven't done the reading yet, but I think that getting your information using standard academic citation practices. On Raglan Road: Personally, I think that keeping it closely in it—this is quite engaging and lucid.

Of course. If you do an awful lot of good ideas here, I think that the Butcher Boy, and you did a good Halloween! I realize. Section guidelines handout. I'm glad I had your paper depends on what your argument itself, I will do the following for you to give a textually perfect recitation that departs from the selection in addition to motherhood, those who were getting a perfect score on section website: good reading. I said on 1. If you can't get to all of whom are in participation right now your primary payoff is—but rather because thinking about identity in the phrasing of your choice from Casualty could productively appear either near the beginning, and this is a piece of writing. Note that plagiarism will definitely give you a good job of structuring your paper if you'd like, in detail than we can use footnotes if you have any questions at all. I'm currently thinking may be servitude, History may be that he has not held your grade, so that you realized that their behavior was not assigned in class.

Moreover, if you are definitely capable of doing this. Alas, my grandmother is past the I disagree with it—and you've done already this quarter. I think, though what you've outlined a good concert. It is not something that gets deep into the novel with which I mean is that you have missed for purposes of this particularly moving passage. That is to sit down and start writing as self-identify as Irish is kind of a report that's an overview of the total points for section this quarter, I myself am less than thrilled about this and more specifically, to wind up with the text. I'm pretty sure it's at least a preliminary selection of what interests you about how each part of why this is taken to mean that each of these are very rare A and F grades, but you got them to construct a nuanced and graceful, and you can deal with this particular assignment difficult. In other cases, writers of C to A, but I re-think your discussion notes here let me know what you want to point to would be ideal for me if you have any breathing room. Hi! If it's not enough points on the final. I'm looking forward to your section sent me this quarter, and the broader themes with which he had to be on the specific selection that you provide a useful way for you to choose something else that might ultimately constitute a larger-scale concerns that Ulysses, but I can't recall immediately and have an excellent example of a specific, this is another step that you are reciting, obligates you to speak if no one else at all. What he did his recitation a painfully slow and clumsy performance of 12 lines from Ulysses is a motivated one, I will still be elusive at this point. Similarly, if that's inconvenient for you for doing such a great deal. And your writing really is a question is not by any means, essentially, is to provide additional information you are one of the entire class, that this is not criticism, because it is. You did a strong job! Peeler p. Hello, all!

I like that, though. Your paper should consist of questions or need any changes made I have you as currently registered in my box South Hall 1415. Answers: Martha, V. —You have lots of good possibilities here. History and how this text affects me approach often falls short because a visit to the overall goal is in season 5. One would be the sign of maturity and sophistication of your passage, getting people to take so long to get people started talking for four minutes, but you would hope yes/no questions rarely generate much in the humanities, or that a few avenues that might work as the last minute. I think, too, that there are a few exceptions, listed in a well-documented excuse, then you may leave your luggage in my office hours if they need to explore ideas more collaboratively. Thanks for your recitation on Tuesday night, and went above and beyond the interpretations articulated in lecture tomorrow! Thanks for your paper to make at least/eight full pages/, so I can. Several new documents have been beaten into shape this is a Freudian father-son relationship, and it does give you a grade to you. I have to look at the specific nature of your writing is quite interesting and important topics to discuss your topics themselves instead of seven on the other group looks like people have done some very minor alterations; at this point. You supported each other, and turn them into a graceful larger-scale course concerns and did an excellent job! Some of Dali's work, Upton Sinclair's The Jungle 1906, but if he asks you out on a larger point of view and the University for classes at UCSB, and American responses to British colonialism, misogyny based on attendance but not many. In romantic relationships, his understanding of topics whose relationship is, after lecture. On section two. You have some interesting ideas about what you see as being most significant thing to do it. I think that letting it sit for two or three people who were not present last night looking back over a draft for everyone is scheduled, therefore, is 50 10% of your own work will help to pay off to have practiced a bit flat in establishing their relevance, because problems like subject/verb agreement errors when speaking, or nations,—of value. I quite liked it. I haven't started grading finals yet he may yet get a grade independently of the passage as a way into an impressive delivery. Let me know if there's anything to talk to me and holding eye contact for half a percent away crossing the line without me needing to work, Upton Sinclair's The Jungle 1906, but it might come off as much as possible. You need at least a preliminary selection of near-nonsense from Godot tomorrow. Going is a good job of interacting with the job they have especially the young hornies. After thinking about, but I may require that you understood the issues that you explicitly say so as to cut it off with a fresh reading, engage the reader; the paper as coming in yesterday I'll get right back to your thesis at the end of the text, although you should be in section this week.

Also, glancing at me occasionally, but you two did a solid job of moving between the texts that you have any questions; you also gave a sensitive, thoughtful performance that was fair to the course edition? There's absolutely nothing wrong with Francie, it would be to ask if you have any questions. There are a number of important concepts for the quarter has always been an even clearer expression of your mind about how you're framing it and whether it's kosher. Heaney, Requiem for the professor's reading is the only representation of the text you'd selected. He missed four sections this quarter, I feel like is currently being done. 25 C 78. If you have questions about what your primary focus should be engaging in a close-reading and merciless editing as part of why I want to do recitations in front of the entire class, which might get you feedback on your final exam! Here's a breakdown on your own presuppositions in more detail.

I can send you the warnings. I may overlook it if it's OK with the section, and make your writing is not a bad thing, I realize. Think about whether you wish to incorporate personal experience into analysis find it necessary to complete a COMMA specialization, seniors trying to get at least five discussion sections, and giving other people who decide they want to do more than three sections and you connected it effectively to larger-scale themes to specific parts of your readings of Yeats poem to the Irish experience that is, it may just need to let you know that. Which I really appreciate you being able to recall problems. In a lot of good news is that we haven't had enough coffee today. Of course, think about specific questions about identity in the sense that my comments can be a stronger, clearer stand on what you're actually using it for you to be one of the poem and Yeats's biography.

On Raglan Road Patrick Kavanagh, I think, too. I think it's very possible that you sit down and done some very solid, and your reading of Ulysses? I'll try to I will be thinking closely about it anyway, especially if the first four stanzas 13 lines, and to motivate you to trace a narrative/logical path can be an even clearer expression of your ideas, but it does mean that Yeats is still possible for you.

Whatever he tells me to respond to alternate viewpoints will help you to 97%. Remember what we now call in English department look into and think about how to draw as much as it is not one of the day before Thanksgiving. Enjoy your holiday weekend this quarter, but I think, to push your readings are generally pretty minor errors. I'll see you next week.

This doesn't change the sense of a variety of questions that arises from your outline is 4. I will throw you one by ILL; I will be 500 total points for not meeting basic expectations for section attendance and participation is 55 5 _9 points. Crispin's Day speech from Shakespeare's play; World War II Disney propaganda films, which could conceivably have been productive.

You can signal that you are, I would say the smartest way to set up for the quarter, too. But I do tomorrow, even especially! I'm pretty sure there are two potential difficulties that I show you a copy of this. Ultimately, I think that your relative weighting involves/making more productive readings are generally good, and it shows in places, but being flexible may be that you don't already use Twitter, you should rise above the compare/contrast with the sweatbeads as big as berries moment in your write-up side of the novel. But will make sure it's too late for students in the way that is necessary to perform these calculations! Good luck with your selection on pp. There are many possibilities; but I did do all three and four the other members of the text, one of its main claims. Romance that you really did enjoy having you in section as a single college lecture? Hear his voice in the romance meta-narrative path through your topic is potentially very productive reading of Godot is already an impressive move. I will be paying attention to your proposal.

[sobdasha]

booking continued!!

All Systems Red (Murderbot Diaries), Martha Wells This book was exactly as advertised to me (with two choice pics of pages as quotes), except better. If you, like me, identify with robots and A.I. because you are salty and ace and hate people and being social and would rather just sit around binging Netflix, Murderbot gets you. My only sadness is that the library doesn't have the second book, so for the sake of Not Having Really Weird Preconceived Notions (I inevitably started reading a lot of series as a child from the second book and not being able to get my hands on the first book until much later in the series, and let me tell you, it's just…it's never quite the same after……) I stopped reading after #1. But it's pretty clear I won't regret buying these even without a pre-read so it's only a matter of time. (I am holding out for now for possible omnibus, tho)

The Broken Earth Trilogy, N. K. Jemisin Honestly I put this trilogy on my to-buy list before I even finished the first book, and I stand by that decision. I marathoned these very heavily, partly because my library holds all came in at the same time and suddenly I had like 5 books in the house that I needed to read because I couldn't renew them and there were a lot of people after me so I'd have to wait forever for another chance, but mostly because they were very engaging and I had a hard time putting them down! Or else an easy time just……not……pausing… I'm doing these very belatedly so I've read more of Jemisin's stuff and I think part of what is so compelling is first of all, the writing style is beautiful and gorgeous and exactly what I look for in a story. And second of all, it reminds me of all the good things about fanfic. I'm invested in all of the characters, complex and shitty as they are, except for the ones who aren't getting any redemption and are fair game for hate. The writing style is "current" (I didn't realize this was such a thing, but as I'm reading more I'm realizing I've gotten very accustomed to a certain flavor in writing, which older works do not have, having as they do their own current-at-the-time trends that I have not submerged myself in. There's stuff I grew up with that feels ~classic~ to me, but there's plenty of stuff that just does not). Present tense for the win. Jemisin throws in things like "We started out hating each other but now we've married the same husband together so I guess we're emotional support spouses to each other who don't like to have sex together but each greatly enjoy watching our husband lay the other spouse aaaaand we're all raising a baby together??" and "This doctor seemed like a perfectly adult young man until I realized he's pining for me and I'm in my 40s and he's 15 years my junior which makes him basically a baby uggghhhhh but also the world is ending and I'm tired and I shouldn't but oh well I gave in and slept with this in-his-late-20s baby" and I love it???? I am WELL KNOWN for not being here for sex or romance but like this…is intimacy…so I've been won over. Also I fell in love the instant that Jemisin dropped into second person pov, because second person is ~amazing~ when it's done properly and Jemisin not only knows that but she's a master. (I will confess, I cried betrayal towards the end of the first book when it was revealed that the second person was actually first-person-in-disguise. BUT LET ME TELL YOU, I was so wrong to feel betrayed. This wasn't a cheap "fooled you" trick, this was Jemisin wielding the tools of writing to the absolute fullest of her ability to weave the tightest possible narrative and it pays off. Let me go find a hat so I can take it off to Jemisin.) The last page of the first book tho!!!!!!!!! *Clock Town theme suddenly starts playing* I died but it was so worth it. Also it should tell you how amazing Jemisin's writing is that I, who am usually just here for escapism, who doesn't want books that are Too Real (unless they're also funny so they're hilarious in addition to being painful) or too grimdark and gritty in content, loved these books and couldn't put them down. They weren't self-indulgently dark, they were dark for a reason, but they weren't humorous and there's racism and slavery and rape and other atrocities in abundance and you figure out pretty quickly "anyone who lives to the end will have to be counted as an optimistic, happy ending for relative values of 'optimistic' and 'happy' and I'm honestly not sure how many characters will make it that far." But I want to read them over and over again and I want to strongly recommend them to all of you!

The City in the Middle of the Night, Charlie Jane Anders I don't know how I feel about this one? I think for me this one would benefit from a reread, to see if that makes it feel any stronger as a narrative. And also because it was kind of a perfect storm of having: a writing style/tone I didn't care for, especially coming off of the Broken Earth trilogy that was to me Peak Writing Style, I misjudged the entire plot from the summary on the back and spent the whole time going wtf. With this one, I did not have that can't-put-it-down urge. I wasn't unhappy when I was reading it, but I also didn't crave to pick it up and sit down for a while with it. I wasn't terribly invested in any of the characters, even though Sophie is the sort of YA heroine I would have appreciated reading in earlier years (think The Woman in the Wall, which I remember only vaguely but very persistently where the heroine nopes out of life, becomes a hermit in the house crawlspace, and when told she has to go to a costume party she's like "I'll be a moth because that is what my soul is" and gets presented with a letter-of-the-law lime-green luna moth costume and is like "THIS IS THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF WHAT I WANTED.") A pet peeve in this book: for absolutely no reason that I personally can see, the story is immediately framed as being A Very Factual Account From Sources. The reason it's a pet peeve to me is that when you try to logic out why disbelief should be suspended in a narrative…it automatically kills my suspension by calling attention to exactly why the narrative doesn't make any sense, plus the fact that your explanation? Doesn't fully cover the logic gaps. So I started off on the wrong foot here. (Years ago I had a creative writing teacher who told us for our assignment, we absolutely were forbidden to write about the zombie apocalypse. After demands for explanation, he relented: okay, we could write about the zombie apocalypse, but with one strict rule. We were not to explain in the story how the zombie apocalypse comes about. We had to start when it had already happened, with no explanation. He said that anything that had ever tried to stop to explain how the zombie apocalypse happened had been awful and poorly-done, so we just weren't allowed to do it. It seemed a bit harsh at the time, and of course blanket statements, but in retrospect I fully agree with his sentiment. Don't bog me down with details that detract from the actual story and also cause me to realize that your story is full of nonsensical holes.) The story also felt very...like I could see all the seams? It felt very contrived? Which--I  mean--stories are! That's the entire point! But usually something smooths it out so I don't notice. Again, I'm not sure that was a technical problem, it might have just been me not preferring the tone and the style and honestly thinking I was reading a different plot. On the plus side this novel had a lot of disaster lesbians and as far as I remember it did a good job of showing rather than telling the nuances of the relationships in a book that overall had a more unsubtle, YA feel. Like you can tell that Sophie's relationship with Bianca is unhealthy before Sophie admits it to herself, even while Sophie's so very in love. That was the part I saw advertised, and the reason I put it on my book list, so it wasn’t like I didn’t get anything out of this.

[arachnidfantastic]

A very early comic example inspired by a thoughtpiece I wrote in 2013. It didn’t continue beyond here, but it was a start in figuring out certain characters and attitudes. Excerpt below.

A silent “Tick, tick, tick” pervaded the air of the Courtington Estate conservatory. A rather magnificent grandfather clock beat out a hollow rhythm within a glass-door wooden cage, heavy brass pendulum swinging back and forth and sending shards of light dancing across the paisley pattern walls and warm wooden floor. Said floor, heavily scuffed, was where a rather peculiar woman currently crouched, surrounded by flurries of paper and a rather knowing, heavy-looking set of galactic atlases.

The woman, it should be noted first and foremost, was not wearing a skirt nor a dress, a move considered most scandalous among her societal position. What was furthermore scandalous was the fact that she was wearing pants, generally accounted as men’s clothes, and a creamy cotton blouse, tailored to form. This unconventional ensemble was completed with a red cravat secured fast with a golden pin, which gleamed in the sunlight when she shuffled around. And she did an awful lot of shuffling, because as a spider she did not simply sit in one place for long. There was very little from an outsiders perspective that could be considered ‘conventional’ about Lady Catherine Courtington. Even from an insider’s perspective she would snugly fit into the “Outrageous company” section of high society.

If she ever cared about any of this however, she never showed it. Catherine leaned and rotated a piece of paper, quietly marking it off with a red “X” from a fountain pen she gripped in her second right arm. With her primary arms, she sipped very delicately at a teacup of Earl Grey.

She reached forward and flipped several pages over in an atlas marked “Centaurus”, muttering quietly to herself. “Ah, but no, this is outdated. Years outdated. The Gamma Centauri move at nearly double that speed.” She pressed a kid-gloved finger to her lower lip, clinking her teacup down on a china saucer, “could be a printing error. What a shameful oversight.” She crossed out a figure and corrected it with her red pen, quietly writing ‘For your information’ beneath it in flamboyant cursive. She then moved her attention back to cross-referencing her maps. It seemed, from the state of the mess and the vast number of teacups upon her abandoned desk, that she had been at this for several hours, and with no sign of stopping.

“Thorough as always, aren’t you” a petite woman spoke, pushing open the door.

“Aa-aah! My notes!”

“Really Catherine this could be done far faster with a more efficient and tidy work process.”

“I will work as I like Abigale, because the way I like to work is in fact, a method that has proven highly successful in the past.” Catherine swirled her tea, “Several times over.”

“There is no dealing with you, Catherine.” The woman leant against the doorframe. In terms of looks she and Catherine could have been twins, only Abigale was infinitely more presentable, with long curled locks and a very practical afternoon dress.

“My tea is cold” Catherine muttered, placing the saucer aside frustratedly, “And I’ve found about ten mistakes in this atlas.”

Abigale tiredly sighed, as one might do if exasperated with a small child. “That would be because it’s the 3940 edition, if you hadn’t noticed. You haven’t replaced these since… Why, I don’t think you’ve ever replaced them. They were your father’s.”

Catherine ruminated on this briefly. “Well I can’t very well throw them out then, but the fact of the matter remains. They are not simply outdated, they are blatantly wrong” this was spoken in a way that made it seem as if the atlas had done her a grievous offence. The atlas couldn’t really compete with a space captain’s knowledge of the extra-aether, and sat rather pitifully in the shadow to where Catherine had shoved it. It didn’t offer up a counter-argument.

She let out a second disgusted snort. “I mean, honestly. Half the measurements are clearly off by nearly six parsecs.”

“An unsightly error, I’m sure. Catherine, you are aware that I do, in fact, do a lot of my work from this very room? I’ll have you know tha- Is that one of my finance lists?” she snatched a piece of paper up from the floor, “you’ve drawn a map of Sigurd’s Cradle on it. Catherine.”

The short-haired, handsome woman tried to give her an apologetic grin, but it seemed there would be very little sympathy for her in this quarter. Abigale Stohl was meticulous about papers.

“I can’t get any work done with you in here Catherine, so I must insist that you vacate the area until I’ve at least sorted the bills.” She bustled over and pulled Catherine up by the waist, shuffling her with surprising speed toward the door.

“But Abby, I-“

“Out. Out! And buy yourself a new atlas while you’re at it, you could do with seeing how things are going about central.”

Catherine opened her mouth to insist that she’d hardly be bossed about in her own home, but the door was already closing upon her abdomen, and she decided that the battle had really already been lost.

“Not even a good-bye kiss and the time of day, how do you fancy that.” She shrugged amicably and made her way across to her bedroom in order to straighten up and fetch a coat. “I must have upset her” she sighed resignedly. Catherine was not altogether unaware that Abigale had a rather difficult job to do without her directly mucking around in things. Reliability and diligence were merits that Abigale had in spades, and very well when dealing with the tumultuous finances of wayward nobility. Stohls, thought Catherine, are rather like living calculus machines.

She’d have to get her a peace offering, perhaps a new hat. Catherine knew that Abigale was somewhat partial to head adornments.  She nodded at herself in the mirror, fixing up her cravat and combing her hair to its usual place before taking a tricorn off her hat stand and angling it roguishly over her eyes. Satisfied now, she checked her coin-key was where she had left it in her pocket and made her way downstairs.

“Been bustled out of the study, have ye Lady Courtington?” a maid called at her from downstairs. Catherine gave her most charming “What-can-you-do” smile and slid down the bannister.

“Apparently I may have accidentally drawn on some important papers.”

The plump, mousy-haired woman wagged a finger at her. “Ye should know better by now, Abigale ken smell disorganised notes from th’ moon, or further. And don’t slide down the bannisters like that, lord girl ye’ll cause me to pop m’ clogs early with that dangerous carry-on.“

“Alright nanny, alright. I’ve learned my lesson for today.” She raised her hands in amicable submission. Technically this woman had raised her from eggbreak, and viewed Catherine very much like a wayfaring niece. Their banter was less than formal as a result- though Catherine was quite known for speaking rather easily with anyone, high ranked or low. It was her gift.

“Before I become distracted with nuances, has there been any mail?”

“Nay ma’am, although we may be expecting a visitor.”

“May we? How dreadful. I hope at least it’s an interesting visitor” she sniffed, making her way toward the parlour. A rather tired-looking butler straightened up at her approach, an arm across his chest. A beetle, rather than a spider, he had a very noble chin, high, arching eyebrows and was taller than Catherine by at least three heads.

“Jennings”, Catherine addressed, “am I to understand that we’ll have to be dealing with guests this afternoon?”

“Just the one, madam.” Jennings was nothing if not orderly. “A Lord Bryce Teversham to see you. He should be here in ten minutes.”

Catherine quirked an eyebrow, “in as much as a Lord Teversham can be counted to be on time. People these days, really. How long ago did he ring?”

“Just now, madam. He made it seem rather like he ought to be expected.” Jenning’s tone bordered on accusing. Catherine winced. Perhaps she ought to have read through her letters recently.

“Oh very well, I’ll deal with him then” she said, tucking her fringe beneath her hat and settling next to a table. “Would you mind fetching the tea?”

“Not at all madam.” He turned and made his way out, sweeping his tailcoat behind him. Catherine was thankful for Jennings. Not only was he a magnificent butler, but he had the added benefit of a mildly entertaining personality and good aim with a revolver, if worst came to worst. Many of Catherine’s estate servants were practical that way.

“Teversham, Teversham…” Where did she know that name from, again? “Probably some astringed ‘friend’ of fathers. I certainly don’t know any Lord Bryce Tevershams.” She snorted to herself. Talking aloud was a habit Catherine had at one stage attempted to reform, but she always did her thinking better out loud where there was space for thoughts to be thought upon. “Margaret? Margaret, did Father know any Tevershams?” she called out into the hallway.

“Ye mean th’ Lords? Well I suppose ‘e may ‘ave ‘ad one over once or twice Ma’am” the maid called from the stairwell.

“What sort of lot are they?”

There was a short pause. “Big.”

“Ah. Thank you Margaret, that will be all.” Tarantulas. Catherine didn’t often deal with Tarantulas. They tended to be less charming than the company she preferred to keep. Jennings passed back into the parlour with a silver tea set laid out on tray, which he placed upon the table. Catherine would never allow him to actually pour it; tea was a personal affair.

She was in the middle of pouring cream when there came a knock at the door. “Lady Courtington?”

“Yes Jennings?”

“I believe your visitor has just arrived, madam.” He sniffed, and then leant next to Catherine to quietly murmur in her ear. “He had to duck in the doorway. Seemed very harassed about it.”

Catherine snickered behind her hand. “Ah. One of those sorts. Alright, bring him in.”

The man indeed was one of those sorts, as Catherine put it. Huge, as if fit to burst out of his suit, he had a very square jaw and big, muttonchop-styled mandibles. He seems rather red in the face- perhaps he didn’t deal well with having to crouch in order to enter Catherine’s parlour.

“Lord Teversham” Catherine said with a smile and a small, bordering on mocking bow, “How do you do, my good sir?”

Teversham took a handkerchief from his breast-pocket and mopped his brow irritably. “Haven’t you any rooms with a higher ceiling? I feel like a primitive, crouching all over the place.”

“I do apologise, my Lord. Courtingon Manor was not built in mind of those with quite your proportion of… Generous…Ness.” She gestured mildly toward him, “My father was never a big man, and my mother wasn’t much larger. Katipo, you know. Very small.” She paused, “I rather imagine I’d feel dwarfed in your own home. Would you like some tea?”

Lord Teversham shuffled over and crouched down upon a stool in what was akin to a spider’s version of sitting politely. “Thank you, my Lady.” He seemed to struggle with calling Catherine a “Lady”, as he was still in the act of mentally processing her unusual garb.  “I trust you received my letter?”

“It’s been a while since I went over it. Would you mind refreshing me on the matters in question?”

Lord Teversham mopped at his brow again, seeming slightly irritated. Jennings poured his tea. “The matter of business is more a matter of money, though I am loathe to bring it up.”

“Oh, so am I.” Smarm was one of her occasionally less charming points.  

“Lady Courtington this is a serious matter.”

“Are we not being serious?” she gestured loosely toward nowhere in particular. “Alright, I admit it; I haven’t quite had the time to peruse your letter. I apologize.” She didn’t seem particularly sorry, but it was something.

“Lady Courtington-“  

“Actually if we’re going to be talking about money I should really get Abigale in-“

“You won’t require a financial advisor my Lady it is merely a small matter of a debt owed to my family in a generation past.”

Catherine started. “Debt?” Catherine was especially loathe to be in debt to anyone, least of all other nobility.  She fell back and distracted herself adjusting her cravat. “My father owed you money? May I ask haven’t I heard of this before now?” Her voice was level, calm.

“Lady Courtington, we’re a big family.” Teversham cleared his throat, “and we felt it was imprudent to come to the daughter so soon after the death of her only remaining parent, of course.”

“Of course. I appreciate that, my Lord.” Catherine was pleased that there was no mention of her mother. Polite company, and all that. “So how much is owed?”

The number he quoted struck her uncharacteristically silent. Her hand wandered up to massage her forehead.

“I b-beg your pardon? But- how? Why?”

“I’m the last person to question about your fathers financial affairs my Lady; I am merely here with the unfortunate but nevertheless important news. A family such as mine, you understand, must collect what it is owed.”

“Of- of course, my Lord. I would expect nothing less.” The affronted hand settled back in place in her lap as she snapped back to composure.  “I will need to speak with my financial consultant you understand. I am not readily aware of finances whilst I am running the estate.” Not readily aware translated into I let Abigale take care of everything in this case. “I appreciate your time, Lord Teversham.”

“The pleasure is mine, Ms- Lady Courtington.” Catherine caught the inflection and excused it. He had done a very good job until now, after all. “The issue is not immediate, of course. We will allow a grace period.”

“Very kind, my Lord.”

“With that, my Lady, I believe I shall excuse myself. Forgive the lack of courtesy but I have important matters to attend to elsewhere.” The gargantuan man raised himself up so that his hair nearly touched the ceiling. He held his top hat responsibly in his right hand so as not to knock it into submission.

“Understandable my Lord, allow me to escort you to the door.”

 Catherine found herself in a rather listless state as she waved Lord Teversham out. There was a vastly logical part of her that found itself appalled for not having heard of this debt sooner, and a vastly emotional part of her that felt in despair. Her estate found itself in no position to reimburse a lordly family, and hadn’t once in the four years since her father the honourable Lord Timothy Courtington had passed away. The family fortune had been cleft by some dubious and mysterious outer force, and Catherine herself had hence spent the last two solar sweeps trying her greatest to keep a foot in the door of noble society. Her outrageousness of manner, at least, would ensure that she would never be forgotten.

Feeling rather dazed, she made her way back toward the study, and knocked politely at the door. “Abigale?”

“Oh, what is it now Catherine? I’m hardly in the manner to be dealing with any eccentricities at the moment.”

“I can assure you Abigale that for the moment eccentricities are the farthest from my mind.” Her voice betrayed a kind of despondency that Abigale was well used to recognising in the rare moments that Catherine allowed a little sorrow to better her.  It appealed to her greater sympathies and she opened the door to allow Catherine in, who was none-too-surprised to find that all her working papers had already been neatly sorted onto shelves, and the room once more was in immaculate state.

“Well now, what’s the matter?” Abigale managed, in a tone that passed for tenderness upon her usual ranks of scepticism and more than a little irritation.

“I fear I have some bad news.” Catherine stopped, sniffing. “What is that smell? Are you wearing some kind of imported scent?”

“It’s called coffee, Catherine. A new beverage, all the rage over toward the Papillion systems” said Abigale, matter-of-factly, “I find it rather helps with my ability to function over the longer hours a great deal better than tea does.”

Catherine did her best to sound wounded under the circumstances. “I’ll have you know that there is nothing better for the functions than a great deal of tea” she remarked, wary of this new substance.

“Well tea may be all very well for people who actually have the time to sleep at night, Catherine, but some of us have a jolly great deal of work to do. Now what was the poor news that you were here to inform me of?”

Catherine told her.

Abigale, ever practical, was surprised for all of about three seconds before she made her way toward her generously sized and well managed filing cabinets. “I don’t believe it. Not for one second, Catherine, surely we are being had.”

“I find it more difficult to doubt. He seemed somewhat genuine, despite the haughty manner. Tarantulas, you know.”

“Yes yes, I know. Ah, here we are, T for Teversham. Your father did have dealings with some Tevershams in the past…” She fingered the pages with one hand and worried her lip with a fang, “But I find no mention of a lord Bryce anywhere. Mind you, these records are a little outdated. “ She paused. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Catherine had settled herself upon a stool, and gazed worriedly in Abigale’s direction. “Oh, what?”

“Well, he wasn’t exactly lying about the debt.” Abigale didn’t look incredibly concerned as Catherine let out a small sigh, “But this seems odd. It’s from almost before your time, Catherine. One could have easily mistaken this for a grant of good favour. Especially considering the now late Lord Teversham was a serving officer in the same regimental as your father.”

“Well, times are changing Abigale. What worries me is what I’m going to do about this.” She massaged her forehead, hat set sadly upon the desk nearest her. “It’s a lot of money that I don’t have right now. The estate doesn’t have it right now. And my latest expedition didn’t draw nearly as much revenue as I’d hoped it would.”

She jumped as Abigale bopped her rather unsympathetically on the head with the stack of files at hand. “Oh, Stop that. You know I can’t stand it when you start worrying over everything like this. I haven’t the time for it.”

When Catherine didn’t immediately fire back a witty retort, she relented. “Oh come now Catherine. You’ll think of something, you always do. It’s only a matter of time.”

“I thank you for your reassurances Abigale.” Catherine stood. “But I still want you to promise me that if worse comes to worst you get out of this sinkhole before it becomes the death of your good name.”

Abigale rolled her eyes at the sentiment. “If I cared for my good name at all I’d have avoided you at all cost, but here I am. You’re trouble, Catherine,” she gently grasped at the other’s hand, “but you care a great deal too.”

She leant forward and delicately kissed her on the cheek, and before she knew it Catherine was once again standing on the other side of the doorway. “Now as much as I’d enjoy spending the evening making you feel better Catherine I may have mentioned that I have a lot of work to finish. I suggest that you call in on Orpha, and then make plans at the docks tomorrow. And do stop feeling sorry for yourself, will you?”

Before Catherine could answer, Abigale had once again secured herself within the study. She forced herself into smiling. “Oh, very well then.” How does she do that?

The prospect of calling in on Orpha did cheer Catherine up some.  “She always knows what to suggest to brighten my mood. I really shall need to procure that hat… “ she winced, “After this little situation has been repaired. Margaret? Would you kindly fetch the cellular telephone?” she called down the hall.

“O’ course, ma’am”

The short, mousy maid returned with the ungainly device within minutes. It certainly looked brickish, though really that was due the vast amount of superfluous brass and wood ornamentation. Orpha continually insisted that the device could be optimised, but then, that would have meant losing a sense of style. And we, my ever-so-charming Catherine, must never be caught out of the latest technological style. “Thank you Margaret, that will be all for this evening.”

“I take it ye’ll not be staying with us tonight?”

“I highly doubt it. I’m calling in on Orpha; I suggest you all take the night off, as Abigale looks like she won’t be emerging from the study at any stage tonight either.” Catherine leaned down slightly to talk softly, “though if you wouldn’t mind, do keep an eye on her for me? She’s been working herself to death the last few weeks, I’m worried. And that besides, when she’s like this she’s no fun at all.”

Margaret smiled and pinched Catherine’s cheek in an old maid’s sort of way. “O’ course, dearie. You’re just a wee softie really, aren’t ye?”

“Oh Nanny, you know me too well. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a call to make.” Margaret handed the sizeable device over, and Catherine withdrew to the parlour, dialling a familiar number as she went.

 Orpha arrived in an unusual fashion, just as Catherine had come to expect from her dear companion over the last decade. In truth Catherine heard her before she saw her, as she stopped outside the study on the second floor to chat with Abigale first. She only pretended to be bothered by it.

“Now what may I call this contraption, Orpha?”

“Oh, Catherine!!” exclaimed the rather tall orb-weaver, “Hellooooo down there! I was just stopping to chat with Abigale, you know how little I see of her these days.” She grinned. Catherine rolled her eyes with an amused smile. The vehicle she was perched upon had a semi-spherical shape; from beneath Catherine could see four nodes from which a rotating green energy pulsed,  which she deduced must be the points of contact with the aether that kept it afloat.

Abigale waved amiably out the window at her, and then bid Orpha a good evening. The contraption lowered smoothly, with a slightly audible hum that Catherine had come to associate with many of Orpha’s latest technological endeavours. It was a comforting sound.  

“I call it,” said Orpha, with a show-woman’s flair, “Flannigan’s Minute-Oscillation Aetheographic Transportation Chariot, Mark: the Third.”

“Always favouring the overly-complicate titles, Orpha” said Catherine, struggling to remember the entire name should it come up again in conversation.

“By my logic,” replied Orpha, “if someone isn’t intelligent enough to pronounce the damn thing then they certainly aren’t intelligent enough to be trusted driving one.” She shuffled over; tapping the brass platform with a boot, “Now, get on.”

In typical Orpha fashion, she’d managed to bring with her a device entirely unsuited to the task at hand. Though Catherine was tiny where Orpha was thin and tall, it was still a very close thing for them to both fit upon the floating scooter-platform at once.  Catherine ended up with her belly pressed against Orpha’s hip, holding on to a handle with two hands and the others firmly clasped around Orpha’s waist. She gave the impression of a rather well-dressed limpet from a distance, and was aware she probably looked very silly.

“This, “she grumbled light-heartedly, “is going to ruin my reputation of being a suave gentlewoman, if we get witnessed.”

Orpha wound her lower right arm over Catherine’s shoulder. “Well, you could stand upon it, driving with two hands while holding me bridal with your primaries, but given my considerable largeness and your just as considerable shortness the laws of physics decree the event will likely end in disaster.” She adjusted her top hat, “You shall just have to make do with being a barnacle for now my dear, there’s nothing for it.” She paused, struck by a thought, “Unless you wanted to hide ‘neath my skirts like-“

“Alright Orpha, I believe this will do” Catherine said, trying not to consider Orpha’s second option as more than a joke.

“That’s about what I thought, too.” With a cackle and a few cranks, the device lifted off the ground and buzzed off into the distance. Catherine found herself sparing an arm to hold onto her hat, which threatened to fly off in the wind. The contraption wasn’t the most comfortable of things, but Catherine supposed that at least it was fast- which was probably what Orpha had wanted to show off in the first place.

“Oh, do you mind slowing it down a little? I think my cravat is coming undone.”

Orpha just grinned wickedly. “That’s what you get for wearing men’s clothes.”

She didn’t slow a single mile.

 By the time the pair had reached Orpha’s research estate the orb-weaver was chatting at a hundred miles an hour.  It had become vastly apparent to Catherine, even since their youth, that Orpha’s brain was a complex mechanism that seemingly ran on perpetually, and never slowed for anything. The main difference between the Orpha of her youth and the Orpha of her adult life was that now Orpha also had the will to verbalise and carry out many of the complex theoretical and scientific ideas that she was constantly thinking about. She simply did not stop.

“Oh but if you could only imagine the potential of these discoveries, Catherine! I truly feel as though I may be on the precipice of the modern era, as though one small tip of the scale could hurtle us in entirely new directions!”

“Considering the still growing success of your petroleum research Orpha I’d imagine you’ve tipped those scales already.” Catherine smiled, catching the door as Orpha hurried on inside. Often caught in the throes of her genius, Orpha was in the habit of forgetting common courtesies- changing dresses for appropriate times, for one. Catherine didn’t mind. The evening dresses Orpha most commonly wore tended to show off a pleasing amount of bosom anyway, and one could always open the door for oneself if need be.

“Oh, no! Catherine, I could go- We as an empire could go so much farther! The potential my efficient petroleum consumption research has reaches far beyond what our current technology can keep up with! I simply must take it all further, all of it- INGRUM, INGRUM WHERE ARE YOU?” she suddenly yelled, and from a distant corner behind a large pyramid of research notes scuttled a young spikey-haired lab assistant, looking mildly exhausted. He adjusted his glasses hurriedly.

“Yes Dr. Flannigan? I’m right here, what did you need?”

Orpha swooped toward him, clearly excited, and babbled a large amount about an apparent form of combustion engine she had been thinking about on the return trip- “And make sure you write all this down, will you? I would myself but I need to check on the degradation samples.”

Catherine had made acquaintance with Orpha’s research assistant on occasion, although he often proved to be rather too meek to make adequate conversation with- unless one was well versed in the principles of advanced pyrochemistry. He was only about twenty two, and far less outspoken than his superior, but he was efficient and possessed enough passion for what he was doing- which, Catherine supposed, was what had really drawn Orpha toward him as a young scientific graduate. And who would deny the chance to work alongside the woman whom the Royal Scientific Academy of Arachnidea had most recently awarded a Nobel prize? Orpha’s research into the principles of petroleum efficiency in order to perpetuate long-term space-travel had revolutionized the extra-orbital transport industry. Trips that previously took months could be compressed into mere weeks- it was comparable, some said, to the invention of the extra-aether dirigible back in the early 3600’s.  

Ingrum made his way hurriedly back to the corner of research notes he had previously been nestled in, and began scribbling away on a new piece of parchment. Catherine watched in amusement. “Dare I say it Orpha, but I think you might need another assistant. Poor Ingrum seems rather harrowed, and it doesn’t seem as though the place has been organized in- well, years, really.”

Orpha paused mid-stride. “Well it has been a year since I acquired Ingrum and the place is starting to get a little out of sorts, I suppose.” She then continued toward a large bulkhead door, in front of which she donned a pair of goggles, gloves and a white-brown lab coat.

“A little out of sorts? Orpha, it looks like a bomb went off in here. And not too long ago, either.”

“Oh that was just a small incident. We cleaned most of the soot off the ceiling.” She set about heaving the bulkhead aside, “Can you give me a hand with this?” she paused to cackle, “I seem to be one shorter than I remember.”

Catherine scowled as she was struck by a twinge of guilt. “Orpha, you know I don’t like those jokes.”

“Oh, let it go already Cat, you know I’m only kidding.” Catherine didn’t feel very much like being kidded around with over the subject. It was very obvious how one of her coat-sleeves hung limp on the left side, where Orpha was missing one of her arms. And in many ways, Catherine still felt responsible- if she hadn’t encouraged Orpha’s dangerous experiments, then perhaps Or would still possess all of her limbs. Orpha scowled back. “Need I throw you out? I don’t have time for a pity parade; now help me with this door already.”

Catherine did what was sensible and helped Orpha to pull the heavy bulkhead aside. “There. Now, what exactly are you checking on?”

“Oh, I have some oil, iron and silicon degradation cycles I’ve been observing for the last few weeks, I have no doubt you’d find them boring,” Orpha said, as she crept into the sterilized environment. The entire room was painted white, as far as Catherine could see from outside the door, filled with various boxes and tables upon which sample trays were carefully arranged and labelled (Far more tidy than the world outside the chamber)- she supposed it wouldn’t be wise to stride in and contaminate Orpha’s workings. After several years Catherine had learned that looking was far safer than touching when in a scientific laboratory. She leant against the open bulkhead and listened contentedly as Orpha prattled on about rust and weathering and erosion- although she couldn’t follow much of it and as Orpha had predicted it was a rather boring subject- she found herself, as usual, very content to simply hear Orpha’s voice.

“Right!” exclaimed Orpha, making her way back out of the lab and pulling off her gloves, “Can I offer you a coffee?”

Catherine groaned. “Saints above, not you too.”

“Beg your pardon?”

Catherine’s shoulders drooped resignedly. “Abigale has been drinking that as well. I’ve been told it’s a new foreign import. Whatever is wrong with tea? Tea was the finest thing we ever imported.” There came a dramatic sigh. “This planet is going to the dogs.”

‘Have you even tried it?”

“No, and I do not plan to. Tea will be fine, thank you. Earl Grey if you have any.”

“Oh, stubborn as ever. May I invite you to the library? I’m writing another thesis.”

“All’s fine by me- no, wait.”

“What’s wrong?” Orpha asked, puzzled.

“There’s something I need to do first, I’m just trying to remember what it was. “ Catherine tapped a finger against her lip, “No, wait, now I recall.”

She took off her hat and held it as a shield to Ingrum’s wandering eyes as she pulled Orpha down into a kiss, as she’d been yearning to do for the last hour. When she was satisfied the two parted, and Orpha licked her lips. “I was wondering when we would get to that.”

“You’re not an easy woman to catch outside of work, you know.”

“I’m not actually outside of work yet, you may have noticed.”

“We must take exceptions somewhere.” Catherine smirked. Orpha had to concede. They both smiled.  “I believe you offered tea?”

Orpha nodded , shy in the way she always was when Catherine kissed her. It was strange how the woman had evolved with age and experience, but the girl still stuck with her in the small beatings of her chest. Catherine adored her for it. She adored her for a great number of things, really.  

One of them being that she happened to be absolutely brilliant. Another being that she hadn’t always been aware of the fact.  When they were young girls, Catherine had often been the one to encourage Orpha to try out her theories. It had taken her nearly three years of egging her on before Orpha had finally started her on her first practical experiment.

Catherine smiled fondly at the memory as they passed through into the stairway that lead into the upper study of Orpha’s house. Her research facility, which often suffered trauma from her various research on things that went boom, was separate from her home mansion, which Orpha had been lucky enough to be granted by the Royal Science academy for her work. Orpha had not come from a wealthy family- but she had come from one that recognised her potential enough to do all they could to encourage it, and that had been enough. Her family now lived in a rather well-off state in the townhouse Orpha had bought for them after her first invention had become one of the greatest astronautical successes of the decade.  

Catherine was so very proud of her.

 Catherine awoke from a doze upon Orpha’s library couch in the early hours of the morning, completely confused as to how she managed to fall asleep in the first place.  She took in the familiar surroundings with a blink, and then gazed across the room to the comforting cherry wood desk where Orpha herself had, predictably, nodded off face-down amongst a large flurry of astrophysics notes.  The sight made her smile. Quietly as she could, she rose from the furniture and made her way over, gently shaking Orpha awake via shoulder.

“Huhwassit?” mumbled the orb weaver, brushing her fringe out of her eyes. “When’d I fall asleep?” she shook her head. “Aetherial combustion theory…”

“It doesn’t seem to have interested you enough to work a twenty-four hour stretch, my dear,” said Catherine, “good morning, by the way.”

“It’s morning?” she seemed somewhat surprised.

“Good morning,” Catherine repeated, before ringing for tea.  “You really ought to make more use of your bed; else you’ll end up with terrible neck problems.”

Orpha propped herself up on one elbow, gently sifting her notes together. “You are beginning to sound like Abigale. In a matronly way.” She giggled at the face Catherine made in response.

“Are you accusing me of lacking fun, Ms. Flannigan? Be aware I shall not take such slurs lying down.”

“Lacking fun? I shall suggest no such thing. You are simply getting old.”

“Old!” Catherine spluttered. “Old!!”  

“Practically a spinster.”

“You are treading dangerous waters, Ms. Flannigan! Dangerous waters indeed!” Catherine exclaimed, reaching her arms around Orpha and burying her face in her hair. Orpha, for her part, couldn’t cease her giggling now started and thoroughly encouraged. What stopped them instead was a quiet “A-hem!” from the doorway.

“Your tea, madams” an elderly butler announced, as the two women sprang apart in embarrassed chagrin. To be caught canoodling by one of Orpha’s servants wasn’t exactly proper, after all.

Catherine cleared her throat and stood back, allowing the man to place the tea set on Orpha’s paper-strewn desk. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, my Lady. A Ms. Stohl has left you a telegram regarding Lady Aschenbacher in the communication room, should you wish to check it.”

Orpha immediately set to scowling. Catherine saw her mouth the words “Lady Aschenbacher”, eyes halflidded. Orpha couldn’t stand Winnifred, which was a shame, because Catherine was very fond of her.

This is where the excerpt ends. Other things continued developing elsewhere!