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valiantroeagleangel · 7 months ago

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Nosferatu I.

Vampire Ruffilo x female reader

Nosferatu! Ruffilo, Nicholas is not necessarily very mentally stable, a bit obsessive too, and a perv, masturbation, voyeurism.

I PUT MY SOUL IN THAT THING. I'm pretty sure I'm about to pass out. Seriously it took me days to proofread it because I'm weak and lazy and I thought I could just write gothic stuff like it was the XIXth century as if I was a native English speaker. Spoiler alert: turns out I cannot.

Anyway, there will be a second part but that second part is long as fuck and I didn't want to put everything in there because I'm not writing 10k words long chapters. So I'll have you waiting for the rest of the story. But here, take my fucked up stuff. It sucks, it's short, but it's here.

Where Noah is a young and arrogant vampire, Nicholas is more mature and full of remorse (and a total psycho).

Mama’s tag list: @philomenie @gipsonnikki @circle-with-me @somewhere-diamond @malice-ov-mercy @smokeynaomi @darkhallcorner @loeytuan98 @sthnog @cookiesupplier @cncohshit @lma1986 @skulliecadaver-blog @talialovesmiw @to-be-written @4rtificialfolio @arkiliastuff

He used to be so gorgeous, him who used to profane the bed of many people of the fair sex. The type of man any woman's mind would go blank just by the sight of it. He used to be so gorgeous, tall, and talented. But now all that was left of him was a name.

Nosferatu. What a pathetic sobriquet.

What was the worth of his life now? What deserved a soul like his, doomed to damnation? Nothing. He deserved nothing, only the pity he could experience for himself. Those crooked fingers didn't merit to be seen, nor this monstrous face.

He used to be so gorgeous but now, now all he was reduced to was awful looks and a stupid nickname. He had lost all his greatness, all his presence for the sake of an immortality he no longer even wanted. He had dreamt of eternity, a forever life that would grant him power, money, love.

Love.

No love was left for him. No one stayed by his side after all these centuries. His body was perishing like a bird hiding to die. He was ageing in the worst kind of way. In an inhuman kind of way.

Sometimes he tried to remember what he used to look like but even then he couldn't see it anymore. All he could see in the mirror was the time that had passed and the lack of blood that destroyed him without ever letting him die. Sometimes he also told himself that he deserved it, that it was his sentence for being so greedy during his young years, thinking that he would pass eternity in the arms of simple women, women who would have been ready to give him their life. Oh, he could kill to live that again, he would die to live that again, just one last time. To feel the heat and the adoration from another someone.

And when he thought about that, he thought about her.

The first time he saw her, he wondered for a second if it was people like her who inhabited the Garden of Eden. People like her deserved to live in the heavens and were cursed to live in that hell of human life. He wondered that for a second, to not regret his appearance. To not regret the fact that he couldn't dare to approach her even if he wanted to. He would kill for her, die for her, even live for her. Live that miserable life if it meant spending eternity by her side.

Nicholas was consumed by her presence, his mind haunted by her image incessantly, day and night. Other women held no allure for him now; his thoughts were fixated solely on her. Yet, how could he dare approach her, she who was so pure, so holy, while he remained steeped in sin? She was beyond his reach, an angelic figure in a realm far removed from his own. Accustomed to the company of prostitutes, he could only hope that one day, amidst her divine radiance and devout Christian devotion, she might cast her eyes upon him.

As time passed, his longing intensified, driving him ever closer to her. The first time he spoke to her, she seemed unaffected by his gaze, as though she perceived him differently from others, as though she saw the man he was beneath his sinful exterior. If such were the case, he thanked the heavens for this unexpected mercy.

It seemed a miracle from above, an answer to his relentless prayers. How could it be possible? He feared her seeing him, hearing him, uncovering the darkness within his soul. But in her presence, surrounded by her saintly aura, perhaps he was not as rotten as he believed. Just as animals flee from their predators and dragonflies shun the shadows, he felt compelled to flee from her, lest his darkness tarnish her innocence.

"Pray for me, pray for the salvation of our souls, and I shall pray for you."

Perhaps he was not irredeemable, after all. Perhaps his perception of himself was skewed by his past sins, by the atrocities he had committed. He saw himself through his own tainted lens, blind to the possibility that she saw him differently, saw the goodness that still lingered within him.

In her presence, he began to see himself anew, to crave her with a fervour that surpassed all else. He longed for her touch, her gaze, her salvation. With any other, he would have succumbed to his basest instincts, sating his desires without remorse. But with her, he found himself captivated, entranced by her naïveté, her chastity.

She became his guiding light, his salvation in a world corrupted with darkness. Though their encounters remained chaste, devoid of lust or romance, he found himself drawn to her with an intensity that bordered on obsession. He cherished every moment spent in her presence, every fleeting glance, every whispered word.

However, she was too kind, too pure for him to pollute. He dared not cross the line, to stain her innocence with his immorality.

Until one fateful night, as he wandered through the rectory garden, drawn once more to her window. It was a simple gesture, a fleeting glance to ensure her safety, but it would change everything. As he peered into her room, illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight, he perceived her, naked.

In that moment, he realized that she was unlike any other, her beauty transcending the physical realm. He already knew she was so much more but his desire for her, once suppressed, now burned with an insatiable fire. He longed to feel her skin beneath his fingertips, to taste her essence upon his lips.

In the shadowed embrace of the night, she stood, an ethereal vision of delicate beauty, unaware of the storm brewing within the depths of Nicholas's soul. His vow echoed in the caverns of his mind like a cursed refrain, a promise forged in the crucible of his darkest desires. He had sworn that he would never defile her virtue with the stain of his lust. But, as she moved unknowingly, marked by purity, madness clawed at the fragile confines of his sanity.

Nicholas had known many a depravity in his timeless existence. Nicholas had sinned so much before. Sins that festered like an eyesore upon his immortal soul, but sins he bore with the weight of indifference. What use was there for remorse in the heart of one condemned to an eternity of solitude?

But now, as he stood in the cloak of night, his gaze fixed upon her, he felt a stirring of something long dormant within him. A flicker of care, of forbidden longing burning like a phantom flame. It was a torment he had not known before, a torment born of the realization that he cared, cared too much, and yet not enough to resist the call of his baser instincts.

In the hush of that nocturnal sanctuary, she moved to put her nightgown on, unaware of the predator lurking in the shadows. And as she dressed herself, Nicholas succumbed to the darkness of his fantasy.

With trembling hands, he unfastened is belt, allowing it to fall to the ground like a silent plea for absolution. A hand slipped beneath the fabric of his attire, a profane offering to the insatiable hunger gnawing at the last strands of his sanity. The moment hung suspended in time, a symphony of temptation and remorse warring for dominance within his fractured soul.

And then, as if in defiance of the heavens themselves, he bit down his lower lip, a desperate attempt to stifle the sinful moan of ecstasy threatening to spill forth from his lips.

With haste, his fingers passed through the band of his underwear as he only caressed his tip before stroking himself a little. There was nothing in the world that this Nicholas treasured more than sex, except for blood maybe. But god that woman was all he desired and the fact that she was far from his touch was killing him.

Yet, even if he tried to struggle against his sinful urges, groanings escaped him the moment he pressed his palm against his member. He observed her with a hunger that defied reason, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of her form as she tended to her hair with tender care. It was a simple gesture, devoid of any overt carnality, but it was enough to kindle a fire within him.

Nicholas found himself trapped in her gaze, a glance that pierced through the room. It was as if she possessed an otherworldly awareness, a subtle acknowledgement of his presence that sent shivers down his spine. His breath caught in his throat, a stifled gasp escaping his lips as he struggled to maintain composure.

In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still, suspended in the fragile balance between desire and restraint. His hand continued its desperate rhythm, betraying the turmoil raging within him. Even as his body yearned for her, Nicholas wanted to look at her, to observe her like he never did, in the vulnerability of the night.

She remained oblivious to his presence, lost in the mundane tasks of dressing herself, unaware of the tempest brewing just beyond her window. But for Nicholas, her every movement was a symphony of temptation, a call beckoning him ever closer to the edge of reason.

With each passing second, the boundaries of propriety blurred, giving way to a primal hunger that consumed him whole. He was a man possessed, shackled by the chains of his own desire, unable to resist the pull of her allure.

And as he stood there, bathed in the pale glow of the moon, Nicholas knew that he had ventured too far into the darkness, surrendering himself to a passion that could only lead to ruin. But, even in the depths of his despair, he found solace in the knowledge that for one brief moment, he had allowed himself to want her as he damned the consequences.

The more he touched himself the more he frowned his brows, slowing the movements of his fingers. He tried to calm his tempestuous breathing, tried not to come in his garment like a young one but it was an undying torture.

In the hushed sanctuary of her chamber, she moved with a delicate grace, her form, a silhouette against the flickering candlelight. Her slender arms swayed gently as she reached out, fingertips brushing against the handle of the candleholder, guiding it to its rightful place on the nightstand. The candle, cradled within her grasp, cast dancing shadows across the room. There was nothing more than innocence within her every movement.

But as she performed this simple act, Nicholas found himself trapped in a web of his thoughts. Though her actions spoke only of purity and grace, his mind betrayed him, wandering down forbidden pathways fraught with desire and longing.

His hand pressed on himself, he groaned again, his forehead covered in sweat betraying him. He couldn't handle anything anymore. He touched himself like she touched the light. And he whispered her name as he finished between his fingers.

She continued her ethereal motions through the room. Each step echoed softly against the ancient floorboards, a melancholic melody that stirred the very air around her. With a gentle sigh, she departed, leaving behind the confines of her sanctuary.

As she vanished into the shadows beyond, the weight of her absence hung heavy in the air, leaving Nicholas to wrestle with his unruly desires amidst the solitude of the rectory garden. Alone with his sins, he was left to confront the horrors of longing that raged within his heart. He was left to face the monstrosity he just committed.

#bad omens #nicholas ruffilo #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #vampire! ruffilo #smut #vampire! nicholas ruffilo #valiant's vampire series

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timaeusterrored · 1 year ago

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(The Golden Cross)

Kerry lit his cigarette and looked over at Venus, who was stretched out like the Goddess Venus herself. The morning sun hit him just right, the blankets around his hips, Vax’s arm over his waist. It was unfair to have two beautiful people in his bed like this.

But the thing that really caught Kerry’s eye was the golden cross around Venus’s neck. They never talked about religion, Venus certainly did not go to church. But it still had him curious, a cross symbolic of Christianity, but a name of a Roman Goddess-or the planet, or the plant. God why were there so many things named Venus?

The one thing about Venus that was more on the creepy side though was the fact that both his eyes were all black, two endless voids. He used to have brown eyes apparently, in the baby pictures he saw.

“Like what ya see?” Venus’s accent was thick in the morning, a mix of his Louisiana draw and whatever abomination was Night City’s accent. It made for some very fun conversations with him.

“I do.” They spoke quietly, as to not wake the exhausted fixed behind Venus. Vax deserved his rest, especially after yesterday. “Curious ‘bout something though.”

Venus rubbed his eyes, shifting a bit so Vax could snuggle into his chest. How was the most dangerous man in Night City the cutest fucking thing Kerry had ever seen?

“Your cross. What’s that about? Fashion or you secretly religious and I’ve been disrespecting someone for a bit.” What? Kerry likes holding it between his teeth when he fucked Venus.

“Mmmmm… both.” He had not been expecting that. “I’m by no means religious… haven’t been for years. But my mama was. Religion is a sticky subject in our family… this is Jett’s cross though, his grandmother was religious.” Something else Kerry noticed is when speaking of Jett, Venus always talked about him in the present tense. But he understood, he did the same with Johnny for years.

“Was it hard?”

“Yeah… but my mama died before I came out so I think I dodged a bullet. Not that nomads have a church or anything, but that woman prayed before every meal, before bed, every trip we took… always had her Bible too.”

Kerry nodded and blew the smoke out away from his partners, looking out over the city.

“What about you? You ever have religious family?” Venus asked, making Kerry look over again, then nod. He never talked about his own history.

“Mom was a devout Christian… dad was too greedy and drunk to really give a fuck. He fucked off to I don’t know where, maybe back to the Philippines. Never saw him after I left. She was never the type to force it on us though, as long as we were happy, she didn’t care… she knew I was bi before I did, apparently when I was a kid, I talked about boys and girls the same. She was a great woman in some ways…” He missed his mother. She was long dead now, died when he was 16, after he had already moved in with Johnny. That was the year he went off to work on the cruise to get away.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to ramble-“ When he looked over, Vax’s eyes were open and watching him. Both had the same look on their faces.

“I would have loved to meet her.” Vax whispered.

“You’re a few decades too late, sweetheart. Most of my family is dead anyway, my youngest sister is probably alive? Dunno.” Kerry shrugged.

He and Venus shared a look, a look of familiarity. In some ways, Venus reminded him a lot of himself, he didn’t know if he loved or hated it.

“I’m gonna go make some coffee. Good chat.” He kissed his lovers before pondering why the fuck he just said ‘good chat’ to his input of two years now. He hadn’t meant for the conversation to go the way it did. He didn’t want to talk about his family, he had wanted to talk about Venus.

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bone-marreaux · 1 year ago

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I’ll add to this.

My grandmother is a devout Christian. Growing up I heard her talking about queer people going to hell. I heard her talk about how trans people were mentally unwell and needed to be institutionalized. I feared coming out to her and my grandfather very much. I love my grandmother despite her beliefs and she had always been on my side in everything else.

She was the first person to notice I was secretly dating a girl in high school. When I was forced out of the closet by my mother and she told my grandmother that I was gay, my grandmother said “no shit” and changed her tune very quickly. She doesn’t understand it, she still believes in the faith that calls gay people sinners. But she didn’t care, she loved me and accepted me and my girlfriend immediately.

She sat me down one day and thanked me for coming out. I was confused at first. She said “thank you for coming out as LGBTQ. I realized before that I was closed minded and awful. I’d never met an openly gay person and so I thought they were not good because that’s how I was raised. But then you, my beloved grandchild, came out and I realized that gay people were just like me, in exception that they just happen to love someone of the same sex. I see how much you love her and it’s no different than any other love. Because you came out I started questioning other beliefs I held. I opened my mind. I became a better person. A became a person that was accepting and kind, which I now realize is the type of person that Jesus would want me to be. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you.”

Despite this beautiful statement, I was still terrified to come out as transgender. I knew I was male aligned but I couldn’t bear losing her support. Gay, bi, etc, that’s a lot easier for most to understand than gender non conformity.

Two years later I mustered up the courage to publicly come out. I changed my name. The next time I saw her she greeted me as my new name. No fuss. No questions. Nothing. I was not dead name to her anymore, I was my new name. I nearly cried. I overheard her on the phone a few hours later. She didn’t know I could hear her. She accidentally deadnamed me but halfway through the word corrected herself. She wasn’t just doing it in front of me. She was making an active change in every part of her life.

Other relatives were not so kind. My grandmother would get into actual fights with them over it. They would dead name me and she would hiss my preferred name at them with a glare that could send anyone running with their tail between their legs. My grandmother is not a weak and frail Alzheimer’s ridden woman. She is strong and capable and sharp. She will happily throw down with anyone who threatens her grandchildren’s happiness and has done so before. When my aunt stayed in her house with her kids and boyfriend, my grandmother caught the boyfriend physically abusing one of the kids and she reamed his ass so hard and threatened to kill him if he laid a hand on the kid again. She is no mama bear, she is a mama dragon. Fierce and strong and capable.

My grandfather is extremely transphobic. Him and I have gotten into loud verbal arguments over it while my grandmother slept because he knew if she heard him, she would destroy him on the spot. I am living in their house currently and he has threatened to kick me out if I don’t “go back to normal” and upon threatening to tell my grandmother what he said, he retreated. Because he knows for a fact she would kick him out for treating me that way before she kicked me out for being happy and living as my true self.

My grandmother texted me out of the blue last year around this time. It was only a few months after coming out publicly. She loves the holidays and has custom embroidered stockings for everyone in the family. She told me to pick the color I wanted for my new stocking. I was confused. She said “you’re [preferred name] now. You need a new stocking.” I nearly cried and told her the color and design I wanted and she made it. I hate the holidays but seeing my true name on a stocking beside everyone else’s on the mantle reminded me I belonged and was loved. The rest of the family has come around. Even my grandfather has at least shut up about it as long as he doesn’t drink.

I went out to eat with my grandmother one afternoon, just the two of us. The server was clearly gender non conforming so I asked their pronouns. “They/them” they said shyly, the excitement of being gendered correctly clear on their face despite trying to hide it. When they walked away, my grandmother looked at me and said “you can do that? Ask someone their pronouns?” And I said yes, it’s very respectful and polite to do so if you’re not sure. I got to explain how good it feels to be gendered correctly. I don’t think she fully understood but that didn’t matter. She almost used the wrong pronoun for the server but corrected herself, albeit awkwardly. They/them pronouns were a little baffling to her, but her effort was noticed by the server and their eyes sparkled when she did it. She tipped them over 50% of our bill. I told her it was very generous of her. She told me as we walked out the door “they helped me open my eyes more. Even if they don’t know they did it, they did. I want to repay them for that. And the service was fantastic.” (It was.)

Moral of the story, even old people who are dead set in their beliefs can change. It’s not hard. They are not stupid. It might take them a minute to understand. They may never understand. But what they do understand is respect over understanding matters. And once they open their eyes to that, it’s easy for them to change.

My 90yr old Irish Catholic grandpa doesn’t miss with my gender. He’s never gotten my name wrong, or my pronouns, never even faltered over it.

It’s all so natural too: son, big man, young man…

We’ve never talked about it. He’s the only one who hasn’t pushed for details. He just accepted it and carried on because it’s not a huge deal.

It’s so comforting.

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phoenixremix69 · 8 days ago

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So I am definitely writing that fic. I was curious about any HCs you have for Al's mom, his human life/kills, and then RadioApple ones too! (I ofc have my own, but I like finding new ones to incorporate.)

Alice Debois- waitress with dreams of owning her own restaurant. devout christian, but she still made a few grisgris for good luck for her neighbors. married very young to alexander dubois but he either got drafted or skipped town, so she really impressed on Al that he should wait to find the perfect woman no matter how long it takes. once al was old enough she started taking him hunting and really drove in the rules for Al. You know, no hurting the does or children, kill quickly and show your prey proper respect, use every part that you can. she started dating people in heaven, but i can't think of an appropriately funny person. Maybe pentious or an exorcist

Al hc- like i mentioned before, he used to try and capture frogs and bring them home. he was actually pretty popular in school and around town once he got older, but he never really noticed or cared because he was busy with alastor shit. he kissed this one girl sally anne when he was like 12, but he didn't feel anything so he was convinced his mama was right and he needs to wait to find the one. he started hunting people once the depression hit, but he was still very mindful of his mama's hunting rules. a lot of people like to think he picked specifically abusive men and tortured them for hours or made them run, but i feel like that doesn't mesh well with his hunting rules or that al really doesn't care about people's suffering. like sure, if you're rude to or in front of him you're moved up the menu, but he still made sure to only kill adult men and killed them very quickly. he didn't really believe in voodoo either, but he was fascinated by the concept of higher powers so he still did a few rituals with his kills once in a while. you are supposed to use every part after all, haha!

radio apple- it started as a one upping thing. Al protected the hotel, so Lucifer healed him, so al made him dinner, so luci made him breakfast. that kind of went on for a few weeks until Luci broke down and kissed him. Al was surprised at first, but he actually liked it, this must be what his mama told him about! they're actually a very wholesome couple but like an addams family wholesome. they go on lovely strolls through cannibal town, Luci makes the kids blood lollipops. they go on picnics where Al can eat bits of luci so one can eat and the other can feel useful again(Read transubstantiation by soot and salt, so good). Luci made al some duck themed cufflinks that al secretly loves but his shadow not so secretly loves. al hates public displays of affection but they make sure to make out in front of vox's cameras every once in a while. charlie is weirded out sometimes but if it's encouraging her dad to leave his workshop and al to be nicer, well...

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hypolimnions · 9 months ago

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/ˌhīpəˈlimnēän / noun : the lower layer of water in a stratified lake, typically cooler than the water above and relatively stagnant.

open starters. memes. wanted plots. wanted opps. inspo.

guidelines & about :

no minors or personal blogs, please.

this blog is low activity.

i ship based on chemistry. additionally, many of my muses are on the ace spectrum — please respect that.

speaking of… my portrayals of canon characters are typically canon-divergent to some degree. i’m always happy to discuss hcs, & my interpretations are always evolving.

i use small text & photo line-breaks. many of my muses are gifless. i truly don't care how you format. this extends to xkit — i cut my posts, but it's not a big deal if you don't. i'm more concerned with writing than aesthetics.

banned fcs : anyone who has passed away, is under 18 in the source, or has explicitly said they don't want to be used.

mun :

i'm cat. 22, they, cst.

i treat rp as a way to flex my creative muscles. i try to stay pretty relaxed about it & appreciate writing partners with a similar attitude!

feel free to ask for my discord, i don't usually write over there but it's the best way to reach me ooc.

muses :

canons :

brian lackey. mysterious skin. 19. cis male, he/him, sex-repulsed asexual. community college student, mama's boy, blossoming small-town kansas rebel seeking an identity outside of his freshly-remembered trauma. easily plied with liquor &/or chocolate cake. sweet as pie, usually. fc: brady corbet.

barry berkman. barry. 37. cis male, he/him, demisexual. BIO UNDER CONSTRUCTION. fc: bill hader.

sally bowles. cabaret. BIO UNDER CONSTRUCTION.

norman bates. psycho. 29. cis male, he/him, straight. BIO UNDER CONSTRUCTION. fc: andrew garfield.

roman roy. succession. BIO UNDER CONSTRUCTION. fc: kieran culkin.

benson broussard. the passenger. 33. cis male, he/him, gay. quiet but gruff. constantly vigilant. works at a burger joint in his rural louisiana hometown, where he lives with & takes care of his ailing mother. volatile & full of simmering rage & shame, stuck moving in circles. fc: kyle gallner.

randy bradley. the passenger. 21. cis male, he/him, questioning. convinced he shouldn’t make decisions or voice his opinions, he lets life happen to him. works at the same burger joint as benson, where their other coworkers use him as a punching bag. anxious in a prey-animal way, still & wide-eyed. fc: johnny berchtold.

tommy gnosis. hedwig and the angry inch. 21. cis male, he/him, deeply closeted gay. up-&-coming pop-rock superstar, alleged plagiarist & perpetual tabloid headline, formerly devout christian going through a very public crisis of faith. fc: michael pitt.

dexter morgan. dexter. 34. cis male, he/him, demisexual. blood spatter analyst with the miami metro PD, hobby bowler & sport fisherman, friendly neighborhood serial killer with a moral-superiority slant. adopted as a toddler — doesn't know what happened to his birth parents. owns his own boat, the slice of life. fc: michael c hall. gifs by firetfly.

amalthea. the last unicorn. ageless. cis female, she/it, asexual. traveling in search of her long-lost family, finding her footing as a newly transfigured human woman along the way. aloof, naive, otherworldly. full of childlike wonder & particularly sensitive to harsh realities. fc: devon aoki.

patty. dinner in america. BIO UNDER CONSTRUCTION. fc: emily skeggs.

alan zaveri. russian doll. 32. cis male, he/him, bisexual. ball of anxiety white-knuckling it through life. well-meaning & sweet but tightly wound & fundamentally unsatisfied, prone to existential crises & depression spirals. reconsidering everything. fc: charlie barnett. gifs by hannahcommissions.

fandomless ocs :

elliot (ell) winslow. 28. nonbinary, he/they/she, demisexual. begrudging grocery store assistant manager, acoustic singer-songwriter playing wherever she can. avid hiker. dual US & UK citizenship — was born in england & grew up there until their parents' divorce when he was 12. has a (spoiled) rescue dog, louise. fc: caleb landry jones.

andrea (andy) edfeld. werewolf. 24. nonbinary, she/it, lesbian. comes from old money owing to a successful family distillery. wanders the country on its parents' dime despite not being on speaking terms with them. loves westerns, high fashion, & picking fights. hates full moons, old men, & anything minty. fc: mia goth. gifs by jofridapettersen.

arthur cox. vampire/flesheater. appears mid 30s, actually 1000+. cis male, he/him, unlabelled. ancient malevolent entity. given to wild debauchery, positively brimming with joie de vivre for someone without a heartbeat. originates from ancient roman italia. can turn into an eagle-owl at will. fc: jude law. gifs by stannyramirez.

dr. nicholas winslow. 47. cis male, he/him, heteroflexible. tenured art history professor. friendly, easy-going, & often more free-spirited than is good for him. twice divorced, both amicable. diagnosed with bipolar, managed (mostly) with medication & talk therapy. film buff & sculpture enthusiast. ell’s father. fc: mark duplass.

megan tilki.

dax tilki.

frances (frankie) grace.

doe moore.

claire van blair.

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rapunzel-withthegoodhair · 3 years ago

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Salty Ask List -

What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?* (pretty sure I know the answers to this but I love your rants lol)

Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?

What is the purest ship in the fandom? (choose your own fandom)

Gonna do these for Midnight Mass since it's rotting my brain (major spoilers ahead)

1) so I'm actually not super into Millie x John. I... I dunno. (Part of it admittedly is that it freaks me out that every single woman on this island is a tall tragic looking pale white brunette with freckles lol like there were so many moments when Millie looked like Bev - did her hair the same, dressed similar, had a similar height and build, and it's weird for me. Would a short blonde or mixed girl have been too much to ask lol).

Also I just can't relate to the idea of staying with someone I don't love. I know she grew up in another time but I don't have that in me.

Mostly what annoys me is... she doesn't really seem to challenge him? I'm not talking about at the end where everyone is literally fighting for their lives. And I give her full credit for the role she played at that point. I don't want to discredit her actions. She's a hero. But let's rewind to what we know of their actual relationship. She's a very devout catholic who never misses Mass. We can say this is maybe because of John more than Jesus. Okay, I'll bite. So, what did their conversations look like? Did she push him? Did she search for answers? It doesn't sound like it. Her own daughter sees her as devout in faith. She's solid in her Christianity. And there's nothing wrong with that, to each their own. But I can't imagine John and Millie are having incredibly profound conversations about faith and theology and the universe. And that's the part of John that I like. His passionate like... bargaining with the universe and desperation to make things fit. To understand whatever comes at him and give it meaning. Because I've been grappling and wrestling with religion my whole life. I grew up in church. I minored in religion in college. Breaking away from the Anglican church growing up was rough for me and piecing together what I did believe in was even harder. But religion still fascinates me. I'll throw down on theology with just about anyone at any time.

I mean, at least with Bev you see some glimpses of passionate theological discussion. Mama Gunning is just portrayed as any other white lady who doesn't want to buck the status quo. I see her faith in the same debilitating toxic way I see my grandmother's and my mother's and my father's. It's just this passive thing she lets be a part of her personality 'cause she has nothing else on the island to fill that void. So, it's like... what they just like...stared at each other their whole lives and mutually acknowledged that they were both the hottest people on an island where the bar was excruciatingly low and that's what they connected on? Or what? lol I don't get it I'm sorry.

She's a great female character, I like Millie on her own. And she called a lot of shit before anyone else did. I respect her, I think she's a badass for shooting the love of her life when push comes to shove. I get the feeling that this is the type of woman that will help you dig in and weather a storm and that's some #girlboss shit. I just have a hard time shipping her with John. Like I ship the fucking Angel with John more than her.

2) Ya'll keep making these gif sets about Bev and John and I'm...starting to see it lol and I hate y'all for that. Stop doing that lol

3) I'm gunna be honest and say all the Father Paul x Self Insert shipping because we all deserve it and we're all valid

#not tagging 'cause ya'll will be monsters #asks #memes #sasha

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stereostevie · 4 years ago

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‘Exuma’ at 50: How a Bahamian Artist Channeled Island Culture Into a Strange Sonic Ritual by Brenna Ehrlich

The performer known as Exuma channeled his Bahamian heritage into a captivating 1970 debut. Fans and participants look back.

Chances are, you’ve never heard a boast track quite like “Exuma, the Obeah Man,” the opening song off Exuma’s self-titled 1970 album.

A wolf howls, frogs count off a ramshackle symphony, bells jingle, drums palpitate, a zombie exhales, all by way of introducing the one-of-a-kind Bahamian performer, born Tony Mackey: “I came down on a lightning bolt/Nine months in my mama’s belly,” he proclaims. “When I was born, the midwife/Screamed and shout/I had fire and brimstone/Coming out of my mouth/I’m Exuma, the Obeah Man.”

“[Obeah] was with my grandfather, with my father, with my mother, with my uncles who taught me,” Mackey said in a 1970 interview, referring to the spiritual practice he grew up with in the Bahamas. “It has been my religion in the vein that everyone has grown up with some sort of religion, a cult that was taught. Christianity is like good and evil. God is both. He unlocked the secrets to Moses, good and evil, so Moses could help the children of Israel. It’s the same thing, the whole completeness — the Obeah Man, spirits of air.”

The music world is hardly devoid of gimmicks, alter egos, and adopted personas. But Mackey’s Exuma moniker, borrowed from the name of an island district in the Bahamas, was never just that — he lived and breathed his culture, channeling it into a debut album so singularly weird, wonderful, and enchanted that it’s not surprising it’s remembered only by the most industrious of crate-diggers. A cuddly Dr. John dabbling in voodoo Mackey was not; Exuma is a parade, a séance, a condemnation of racist evils.

“The eccentricity of [Dr. John’s 1968 debut] Gris-Gris is, like, ‘Let’s roll a fat joint,'” says Okkervil River frontman and devout Exuma fan Will Sheff. “The eccentricity of Exuma is more like PCP.” Sheff became hip to Exuma when his former bandmate Jonathan Meiburg (singer-guitarist of Shearwater) happened to hear “Obeah Woman,” Nina Simone’s 1974 spin on “Obeah Man.” Sheff was entranced by Exuma’s debut, especially the sincerity of its lyrics and Mackey’s whole-hearted earnestness. “There’s something about when somebody is very devoutly religious, where you trust them not to sell you something,” he tells Rolling Stone. “I mean, they may be trying to sell you their religious beliefs, but their religious beliefs are so vitally important to them that they kind of stop trying to sell themselves.”

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“He was unique. He was good,” says Quint Davis, producer of the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival, where Exuma became a mainstay later in his career. “He was like a voodoo Richie Havens or something.”

Macfarlane Gregory Anthony Mackey grew up in Nassau, Bahamas, steeped in both Bahamian history and American culture. Each Boxing Day, he witnessed Junkanoo parades — a tradition dating back hundreds of years and commemorating days when slaves finally had time off — replete with music, masks, and folklore. At the movies, accessed with pocket money earned from selling fish on weekends, he saw performances by Sam Cooke and Fats Domino.

“Saying the word ‘Junkanoo’ to most Bahamians gets their hearts beating faster and their breathing gets shorter and faster,” Langston Longley, leader of Bahamas Junkanoo Revue, has said. “It’s hard to express in words because it’s a feeling, a spirit that’s evoked within from the sound of a goatskin drum, a cowbell, or a bugle.”

“I grew up a roots person, someone knowing about the bush and the herbs and the spiritual realm,” Mackey told Wavelength in 1981 of his life back home. “It was inbred into all of us. Just like for people growing up in the lowlands of Delta Country or places like Africa.”

In 1961, when he was 17, Mackey moved to New York’s Greenwich Village to become an architect, according to a 1970 interview, but he abandoned that dream when he ran out of money. He then acquired a junked-up guitar on which he practiced Bahamian calypsos and penned songs about his home. “I started playing around when Bob Dylan, Richie Havens, Peter, Paul, and Mary, Richard Pryor, Hendrix, and Streisand were all down there, too, hanging out and performing at the Cafe Bizarre,” Mackey recalled in 1994. “I’d been singing down there, and we’d all been exchanging ideas and stuff. Then one time a producer came up to me and said he was very interested in recording some of my original songs, but he said that I needed a vehicle. I remembered the Obeah Man from my childhood — he’s the one with the colorful robes who would deal with the elements and the moonrise, the clouds, and the vibrations of the earth. So, I decided to call myself Exuma, the Obeah Man.”

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Mackey’s manager, Bob Wyld, helped him form a band to record his debut album, including Wyld’s client Peppy Castro of the Blues Magoos. “It was like acting. Like, ‘OK, I’ll take a little alias, I’ll be Spy Boy,’ and all this kind of stuff,” Castro tells Rolling Stone. All the members of Mackey’s band adopted stage names, which wasn’t that strange to Castro, who originated the role of Berger in the Broadway show Hair.

“Then I met Tony and then I got into the folklore and I started to see what he was about — this history of coming from the [Bahamas],” he adds. “It was great. It was inventive. We would do a little Junkanoo parade from out of the dressing room, right up to the stage. It was about the show of it all. Coming from somebody who wanted to learn music in a more traditional form, that was kind of cool.”

The band recorded Exuma at Bob Liftin’s Regent Sound Studios in New York City — where the Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, and Elton John also laid down tracks — giving the bizarre record a slick sheen. Mackey once said that the music came to him in a dream, and he set the mood in the studio accordingly. “It was so free form. We turned the lights out, we’d put up candles, he’d get on a mic and he’d just start going off and singing crazy stuff and we followed it,” Castro says. “You would go into trances. In those days, I was a little hippie, so yeah, we’d be smoking weed there and getting high. It became a séance almost. It was like, ‘We’re going into this mode and we’re going to see where it takes us.’”

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“There were no boundaries with Tony,” he adds. “It was free for him. It’s kind of like what people felt like when they played with Chuck Berry. If you talk to any of the musicians who played with Chuck Berry, you just had to be on your toes because he would change keys in the middle of the song. But there was also the spiritual stuff, you know, just the crazy voodoo-ish stuff. It was just so free for him.”

Everyone Rolling Stone talked with for this story compared Mackey to Richie Havens, but the similarities only really extend to, perhaps, Havens’ role in the Greenwich Village scene and the rich quality of his voice. “You can put on Dr. John and Richie Havens and water the plants. It’s good background music,” Will Sheff says. “But if [Exuma’s] ‘Séance in the Sixth Fret’ comes on shuffle, you’re going to skip it. It’s active listening; it sends a chill down your spine.”

Exuma is a kind of aural movie — fitting, as Mackey went on to write plays — that starts off boastful and proud with “Obeah Man” then descends into darker territory. The second track, “Dambala,” is a melodic damnation of slave owners: “You slavers will know/What it’s like to be a slave,” Mackey wails, “You’ll remain in your graves/With the stench and the smell.”

“It reminds me of Jordan Peele movies — movies that deal with sort of the black experience, a collective trauma,” Sheff says of the song. “He’s cursing a slaver and there’s something so intensely powerful about that.”

Then there’s zombie ode “Mama Loi, Papa Loi,” a frankly terrifying story of men rising from the dead, featuring guttural yelps and groans. “Jingo, Jingo he ain’t dead/He can see from the back of his head,” Mackey sings. That leads into the comparatively peppy “Junkanoo,” an instrumental that recalls the parades of the musician’s youth. Things get dark again with “Séance in the Sixth Fret,” which is just that — a yearning ritual in which the band calls to a litany of spirits. “Hand on quill/Hand on pencil/Hand on pen/Tell me spirit/Tell me when,” Mackey intones. The more accessible “You Don’t Know What’s Going On,” follows, leading into epic prophecy “The Vision,” which foretells the end of the world: “And all the dead walking throughout the land/Whispering, Whispering, it was judgment day.”

The strange, gorgeous record was released on Mercury Records, and at the time, the label had high hopes for its success, as it was apparently getting solid radio play. “The reaction is that of a heavy, big-numbers contemporary album,” Mercury exec Lou Simon said at the time. “As a result, we’re going to give it all the merchandising support we can muster.” But the album apparently failed to break through, and Mackey left Mercury in 1971 after releasing Exuma II. His legacy lived on in the corners of popular culture: Nina Simone covered “Dambala” as well as “Obeah Man,” with both tracks appearing on It Is Finished, a 1974 LP that failed to take off. Mackey himself went on to drop still more albums but mostly operated in a quiet kind of obscurity.

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“What he didn’t have was the commercial base, you know, the formula,” Castro says by way of explanation. “Let’s face it, the music business is very fickle and it boxes you in. And if you’re going to join that world, it’s in your best interest to commercialize yourself and to come up with a formula that works. He didn’t have that formula.”

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Mackey did find a home, though, at the newly minted New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival in 1978, an atmosphere that seemed more in keeping with his spiritual aesthetic than mainstream radio. “New Orleans is the most receptive place in the world to the artist, this music spirit that flies around in the air all the time waiting to be reborn and reborn,” he told Wavelength in 1981.

“He was a Caribbean Dr. John, so to speak,” festival producer Davis says. “When I heard [his album], I said, ‘Well, that’s us.’ This guy with feathers on his head, his big hat. Everybody loved him and he became part of the festival family.”

“I think he was the first Caribbean act that we had,” Davis adds. “I hesitate to say that he was a trailblazer because there weren’t a lot of people following in his footsteps.”

#bahamas #blue magoos #caribbean #exuma #nina simone #okkervil river #dr. john #obeah #richie havens #rollingstone #music #spirituality

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sincerelyreidburke · 4 years ago

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Ok, so as a Hellenistic pagan(greek gods not satanism), I kind of want to know what the crickets religious identies are?

Thank you for asking!!!!!!! A little-known fact: in addition to studying history, I also study theology, so you have just enabled a very specific and enthusiastic part of my geek brain. Exploring characters’ religious identities is fascinating for me (see all the Catholic 1961 Dex guilt subtext in love finds you) (actually, is it even subtext if there are flashbacks to Mass and funeral rites and a literal scene involving the town priest???? anyway).

This is the part where I expose myself as coming from a Catholic family, because, uhh, the thing is. The crickets’ ethnic backgrounds are (checks notes) Mexican, French, and Italian, and you know what is particularly popular among each of those groups?????

You guessed it: the Catholic Church.

So let’s talk about the boys.

(Ask me anything about the crickets!)

Nando... usually comes first in the unofficial order, but he’s my favorite cricket religion discussion to have, actually, so I’m saving him for last. Let’s start with Rhodey!! In the OG Rhodey Facts post I mentioned that the Shaley family (but more so the DeLuca family, his mom’s side) are practicing Catholics. I feel like that does mean going to church kind of regularly, but maybe not every Sunday. In home environment terms, religion is more important to Brenda than to Rhodey’s dad who I’m only just now realizing doesn’t have a name. Maybe, like, Paul? Paul Shaley. That’s a good dad name.

Anyway. Okay, sorry. We’re back. The point is that Rhodey was raised going to church, and some of the more aggressively Italian members of his family (cough, cough, Uncle Reno) are way more serious about Catholicism than others. But Rhodey himself?

Ahh...... he just doesn’t really believe in organized religion. He will do Mass to please Brenda and Brenda only. He’s like John Mulaney...

As a very queer person, Rhodey just generally doesn’t vibe with the tradition he was raised in. He doesn’t think it’s inclusive enough and also just generally thinks that if there’s a higher power, it would be hard for humans to conceptualize it.

So in terms of what Rhodey actually believes? I think he’d fall into the “I’m spiritual, but not religious” category. As in, he believes in some kind of greater force in the universe, but he thinks it’s not really much like the Christian understanding of God. Rhodey might adhere to some spiritual practices that are more in line with Eastern traditions (like meditation, personal cultivation, etc), but he doesn’t identify with any one faith. Like, this is so specific, but Rhodey practices ‘hipster spirituality’. I hope you might be able to understand what I mean by this.

Does Brenda Shaley know all this? Of course not.

Aaaaanyway. On to Touille. Honestly, he’s the least interesting, but that’s not to say religion doesn’t play a role in his life. His mémé is super religious, and so is his mom, probably, by extension, which means he was likely raised going to Mass often. French Mass, by the way. Obviously.

I think religion is very much a familial and traditional thing for Touille. He’s never really had any problem with religion, and he generally won’t have one throughout his life. Is he super devout? No. Does he put a ton of thought into his faith? Not exactly. But does he believe? Yes, for sure. For him, that’s all it’ll ever be. And that’s what works for him.

And now. Nando. My sweet sweet child. Let’s have a discussion about him.

Mama Hernandez is a very religious lady. The late Papa Hernandez was also very religious. In general, Nando comes from a very Catholic Mexican family, on both sides. That cross necklace he wears that was his papa’s? It’s not just for style or even just the family connection. It has religious meaning for him, too.

Nando was raised going to weekly Mass. Because family is the most important thing to him, this is very important to him, by extension. Nando has also been aware for quite awhile of his own non-straightness. He’s well acquainted with the Catholic Church’s general stance on homosexuality, and Christianity in general.

But here’s what Nando thinks. Nando believes, fervently, in the existence of God. He also believes in the importance of Mary, and in the saints and angels, and all that other Catholic jazz. He is well aware of what the Bible says about being gay, but he also knows that the Bible says just as much about haircuts, tattoos, mixed-fabric clothing, and the like. And also Jesus told dudes who look at a woman with lust to go gouge their own eyes out. The point: Nando does not believe that being gay is a damning thing the way so many American Christians tend to say it is.

Nando wagers that even if being gay is a sin— and he doesn’t think it is; he’s confident God made him perfectly, just the way he is— but even if it’s a sin, that Jesus still loves him anyway. He prays sincerely and often, asking God to keep his papa watching over him and giving thanks for the people he loves. Although I don’t think he’s able to go to church weekly during his time at Samwell, he always goes at home with his mama.

Which, by the way, Maria’s adamant acceptance of her son despite the stereotypes about Catholicism and acceptance of queer people is a big contributor to why Nando’s faith is important to him in the face of such unconventional circumstances.

The point is that Nando is very religious, in his own way, and he’ll stay that way all his life. As for Christian homophobia, he just sees that as people who don’t really understand that being a Christian means you’re supposed to love your neighbor above all.

The Catholic piece is, yes, very much just a product of his upbringing. General faith is more important to him than tradition, but out of respect for his parents and attachment to his culture, he wouldn’t switch to another kind of Christianity. He wouldn’t see another that’s more appealing anyhow.

Also, a caveat: Nando very much participates in traditional Mexican spiritual practices like the celebration of the Day of the Dead.

Wow! I’ve gotten long-winded. Thank you for this extremely enabling ask. I’d be happy to talk more about any of this if anybody wanted!

#oc taddies #crickets #nandoooooooo #rat boy #rhode island headass

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madforskating · 6 years ago

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Out of the darkness and into the sun: my coming-out story

On Thursday, October 11, I decided to share a little secret. Yep, I like both boys and girls! That’s all! Thanks for coming! I wish it was that simple for everyone. Growing up homeschooled in the middle of nowhere, I didn’t know many other kids, other than my baby cousins. I watched plenty of sappy romantic comedy movies with my mom to understand the concept of straight romantic love: it was something beautiful that I would probably want when I was older. I learned about the birds and the bees when I was 11, reading one of those big fancy science books, and was, to be honest, a little disappointed to find out that was how it all worked. I understood it was necessary for the world to go round, but it just didn’t seem romantic to me, and my mom told me it’d make sense when I was 30. My first crush happened at 12, on a 20-year-old male figure skater – mostly because of his beaming personality and warm smile, which I interpreted as “cute”. It was an innocent, normal case of childish sheep’s eyes. But things got very complicated soon after. I started to notice the very beautiful female skaters. At first I called them my “girl crushes” – the word straight girls use for pretty females they admire, even though they don’t intend on dating them. But as I grew older and hormones kicked in, I definitely knew something was up. I knew that there were gay people in the world, but I couldn’t call myself a lesbian if I still liked guys, right? I had never even heard the word bisexual until I was 13, and at the time I thought it meant someone who dressed as both genders 🙈 When I discovered its correct meaning, I thought, “Wait, is that me?” But I didn’t know for sure. First of all, I am not strongly attracted to men. I definitely think some men are handsome, sweet husband material, but I don’t have that overwhelming sexual attraction to them. On the other hand, there are a few ladies I definitely see as sexy, but I’ve never dated a girl before and I’m not sure how far I would go. A bi friend of mine recently explained that bisexual just means you’re attracted to both males and females, and at this age it’s perfectly normal (and advisable!) not to be interested in “the facts of life” yet. I might grow into it, like Mama always said, or I might be biromantic – attracted to both sexes and craving a close relationship like a marriage, but not necessarily a sexual relationship. As of now, I honestly don’t know, and I’m okay with that. I’m just going to take this one day at a time. I started strongly suspecting I was bi in March of this year, and I admitted it to myself during the summer. One of my sweet Twitter friends, who has been openly gay for many years, called it “coming out to yourself”. It was a bit of a shock to me; I had always seen LGBT people as a group I accepted, but didn’t belong to. But once I had figured out where I stood, I could start my journey of telling others. A huge factor in my coming out story is a Twitter friend I met several months ago. She was in her early 20s, but she was finally starting to accept she was bi. I told her something like, “it’s something I’ve wondered about myself tbh” and after a while I started to tell her my story. After I had told her, I decided I would tell my straight friends soon. I was sitting on it for a while, trying to come up with the best time to casually bring it up. But then I saw that National Coming Out Day was coming up and I thought on a whim, “No better time than the present!” Was I scared? YES! But I reminded myself of all the people who inspired me – Eric Radford, my first LGBT role model; Adam Rippon, who represented both the Stars and Stripes and the rainbow with style this Olympics; Karina Manta, a Team USA ice dancer who came out as bisexual less than two weeks ago; and all the people – heterosexual or otherwise – who are just fearlessly themselves. And I want to be one of those people who share their whole self with the world. In the words of John Legend, “I give you all of me.” My mom has always been my biggest supporter. She has practically raised me on her own, homeschooled me for over a decade, and been there through every problem I’ve ever had in my life. Since she knows literally everything about me and we talk all the time, it really wasn’t the big scary conversation I imagined it would be. She said she guessed there had been something going on for a while, and I’d tell her when I was ready. I’m still trying to explain all the details, but so far so good. After we talked, I logged onto Twitter to come out to my online friends. Many of them were utterly shocked because I had never even hinted at being bi. I hadn’t even told my very closest friends – girls I chat with on a daily basis about literally EVERYTHING. It wasn’t that I was afraid to tell them; I just wanted to make sure I was 100% bi before I shouted it from the rooftops. They all accepted me so warmly, I cannot even describe it. Twitter people I know only casually were quick to give me a “good for you!” or “you’re so brave to share your story, of course we will support you!”. One of the most beautiful things about the figure skating community is how LGBT-friendly they are. This is how the rest of the world should be. I was a bit worried that one of my friends, who is a devout Christian, wouldn’t understand. I even sent her a long dm trying to explain what it all meant. And she replied, “I’m not gonna lie…I am a little shocked. But this doesn’t change how I feel about you. I still love you like a sister and I’ll always be one of your best friends!” That was one of the most satisfying moments in this little journey. So far, I’ve gotten nothing but positive feedback. I know there will be haters – there always are – but I am proud of who I am, and I have an army of people who support me. The truth is, many young LGBT people can’t just tell their parents without fear or disapproval or even disownment, and the public is another story altogether. I feel so blessed to have a mom who understands that a person is so much more than a sexual orientation. To all of you who are not in a position where you can come out yet, hold on. I don’t know if y’all are religious, but I believe God made us exactly the way He wanted us to be for a reason. I’m also thankful I can’t say I ever experienced the “long years in the closet” most people describe. I’ve heard so many people who know they are LGBT from as young as 5 years old, and don’t come out until adulthood. Since I didn’t even know I was bi until I was a teen and didn’t confirm it until earlier this year, there were honestly only a few months where I felt like I couldn’t share that part of me, as well as about two years where I was just plain confused. It’s pretty hard to hide something in a closet when you don’t even know what you’re trying to put in there. For me, it’s not really “coming out”, it’s “making a discovery and sharing it with the world”. I haven’t told my whole family, like my more traditional grandparents. And that’s okay with me. I’m not in a rush to tell everyone. If I’m in a serious relationship with a woman and I’m bringing her to meet the in-laws, then of course I’ll tell them. But while I’m young and single, I don’t see why they need to know about it. It’s not because I’m ashamed of who I am; it’s because it’s really none of their business 😉 Right now, telling my mom is enough. And that’s it. I’m out, I’m proud, I’m happy. This is not the only thing that makes me who I am. I am a writer, a student, a crazy figure skating fan, an artist, and just a girl who is about to celebrate her 16th birthday next month. I’m just glad I will be able to start my dating life knowing exactly where I stand, and I hope to eventually meet that special someone who takes my breath away. This was a long and probably very confusing post, so feel free to ask questions if you’re unclear on anything! Love you guys! 😘

#LGBT #coming out #National Coming Out Day #bisexual #biromantic #my story

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underachievers-please-try-harder · 3 years ago

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Interview // Rachel Chinouriri

For NME. Read online.

As career options go, criminal psychology feels like quite a leap from professional musician. The absurdity of the gulf between the two definitely isn’t lost on Croydon-based singer-songwriter Rachel Chinouriri, even if both were valid options before the latter won out. Speaking over Zoom from Carnoustie, Scotland – where she’s currently staying following a family emergency – the 22-year-old acknowledges the distinction before revealing some similarities with her current endeavours.

“It sounds depressing but I’ve always been drawn towards very sad things,” she laughs, exuding a playfulness ostensibly at odds with her melancholic obsessions. “I watch crime documentaries and I’m always researching really sad stuff because it’s more inspiring to write about. And also I have a bad habit of feeling like I can help heal everyone. So in many ways, I carry other people’s sadness and turn it into songs.”

Drawing beauty from despair is Chinouriri’s forte. It’s a skill she’s been honing in public since 2018, with the release of her sparsely atmospheric single ‘What Have I Ever Done?’, and before that at BRIT School, where she studied Musical Theatre instead of Music so as to bypass the theory-based songwriting approach she so loathed at GCSE. This prowess has already led to support slots with Celeste, Sam Fender and Lianne La Havas, plus a sync on Michaela Coel’s boundary-breaking series I May Destroy You, but there’s a sense that this latest collection will be the one to bring her before an even bigger audience.

Recorded in February 2020 with Oli Bayston (Kelly Lee Owens, Loyle Carner), Tom Allen (Yellow Days, Cosima), and Daniel Hylton-Nuamah (KAM-BU), new EP ‘Four° In Winter’ – out this Friday (April 23) finds Chinouriri digging even deeper, creating atmospheric arrangements that finally match the power of her introspective subject matter. It’s arriving three years on from her debut EP ‘Mama’s Boy’, but where that set dealt in dreamy folk and soft-focus indie-soul, ‘Four°…’ plays with production techniques, piecing together an eerie patchwork of sounds to construct an immersive new world.

The silvery pop of early single ‘Darker Place’ serves as a good entry point for the rest of the record, tackling “the battle between light and darkness”, and finding Chinouriri’s hushed vocals layered over a shimmying beat, and pulsating electronics. She credits the song with “setting the tone” for the rest of the EP, both in terms of its palette and its subject matter; a remix from Hot Chip’s Joe Goddard ups the ante even further.

Chinouriri took inspiration from some of her all-time favourite artists, channelling the haunting atmospherics of Daughter, the stirring vocal harmonies of South African a capella group Ladysmith Black Mambazo, and the storytelling of Coldplay who she defends from accusations of naffness: “I don’t care – I love Coldplay! I stand by them!” The influence of Daughter emerges in ‘Lose Anything’ with delicate acoustic guitar and rolling waves of reverb, and again in the eerie tape loops driving ‘Plain Jane’. Listening to the collection as a whole, you come away with the sense she might finally be able to dismiss the lazy R&B tag that’s followed her, simply by virtue of her Zimbabwean heritage.

“If you Google me now you’ll find so many references to R&B, and it honestly stresses me out so, so much,” she grimaces. “When I used to make music and not show my face it was always like ‘Here’s this indie, guitar-playing woman.’ And as soon as I started taking press pictures it was like, ‘She’s R&B,’ or ‘She sounds like Lauryn Hill’ And I’m like, I do not sound like Lauryn Hill at all.”

It’s an insidious microaggression every bit as unacceptable as the relentless, racist bullying she suffered in her early years at senior school in south London, where she was one of only six students of colour. “On the first day [of school] I got pushed into a wall, called the n word, and called a slave, and it was just continuous for three years until I enrolled myself in a new school,” she recalls with a depressing calmness.

Chinouriri is similarly measured when relaying her recent experiences in therapy, in which she was diagnosed as “codependent” by her counsellor. It’s the same disarming candour that characterises her songwriting on ‘Four° In Winter’, which delves into mental health struggles (‘Darker Place’), heartbreak (‘Give Me A Reason’) and even suicidal thoughts (‘Lose Anything’). “I’ve attempted suicide before,” she says when asked about the latter song. “It’s strange because when you end your life it is final; it’s a permanent resolution to temporary issues. So the song is me saying ‘What will I lose by making such a permanent decision?’”

Then there’s ‘Plain Jane’, which delves into some of the more toxic traits brought out by romantic rejection. “People stalk their exes online, and then they look at their new partners and feel some sort of satisfaction that they’re better looking than them,” she says. “It’s so horrible, but it seems to be a healing factor for so many people.”

In the pre-chorus she paints herself as a vengeful presence akin to Medusa, a theme that’s further explored in the accompanying visuals “I did the music video for it yesterday before I came here, and you know how my family are super devout Pentecostal Christians? Well, I sent pictures of me holding onto this snake and they were like, ‘Oh my goodness, this is the devil!’”

“What I want people to know before they listen is that I have put my most vulnerable self at the forefront on this EP,” she says when asked about listener interpretation. “Every single situation I’ve struggled with in my life, and some of the hardest things I’ve had to deal with mentally. It’s what I’m using to heal and hopefully it can heal others.”

So there it is: for all the exquisite sadness in her songwriting, Chinouriri is using darkness to help encourage listeners towards the light.

#nme #interview #interviews #rachel chinouriri #music #parlophone #4 degrees in winter #new music

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mamamidnight · 7 years ago

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My OCs

So, this is a list of all of my current OCs and their fandoms/universes. Still more OCs to come for Midnight’s story. There’s apparently 34 thus far.

Mama Midnight:

The Midnight Trio

Midnight Skellington (My fursona, created an orphanage, took her husband’s last name)

Joseph Jackson Skellington III (Runs the orphanage with Mid and Terra [Imma let you guess where my ten year old mind got name inspo and how I modified it])

Terra Widow (Their wife; all three are married to each other, kept her last name out of familial sentiment)

Their Daughters

Alena Skellington (Mercenary codenamed as “Doom” [original name I gave her when I was ten], Midnight’s middle triplet by birth)

Akita Skellington (First mutant enlisted in the air force, eldest triplet)

Angelica Skellington (Pastel decora loving sweet lolita, nickname is “Angel” [original name I gave her when I was ten], Midnight’s youngest triplet)

Hope Skellington (Adopted, helps her mom at home at the orphange with Angelica)

Mutants (Outside of the “Midnight Trio”)

Emily “Thorn” Brooks (Married to Picassa)

Picassa Brooks (Named after the artist with a feminine twist, took her wife’s last name)

Seti Ghanem (Lives in Cairo, devout Muslim. The initial experiments performed on her were the basis of the mutation experiments spreading.)

Solana Ramirez-Kasika (Half Mexican, half Thai. Thai last name means “bird”. Drifter. Was stopping in town for a small break before being kidnapped by the townspeople with the others.)

Humans

Henry McGregor (Town sheriff, had a crush on Sarah.)

Sarah (Midnight’s mother, widow)

The Neighbors (Live next door to Sarah’s orphanage. Elderly couple, but devout Christians)

“Old Fire And Brimstone” (Elder and Pastor at the Dover Chase Church)

Akan (One of the town’s deacons, the “doctor” overseeing the experiement. Name means “Twisted” in Hebrew, unbeknownst to his parents who wanted to name him something biblical.)

Sophia (Akan’s daughter, one of his “nurses”)

Dinah (Akan’s wife, one of his “nurses”)

88 (Dog stitchpunk, adopted sister to 33, a friend on dA’s OC)

Anita (Siamese cat stitchpunk)

Steven Universe:

Jade (Homeworld gem turned rebel. Her fusion partner is @thebadwolfdemon‘s Blue Goldstone. They’re incredibly gay for each other and when fused become Amazonite. Friends with @wandering-scarecrow‘s Coober Peety, @pitchblende-viridia‘s Pitch, @nursephantump‘s gemsona, and @wellheyproductions‘ Sulfur.)

Percy Jackson:

Lillith Marie Knight (Demi goddess, daughter of Hades.)

Pamela (Faun girl, Lillith’s guardian.)

Cinnabunny:

Candi Floss (Cotton candy sheep girl)

Gummi Bear (She and Candi are friends with @pennwrenn‘s Ginger)

Others (Originals that don’t fit in a universe above):

Demons

Solomon/Betzalel (Name translation is ”In God’s Shadow” in Hebrew. A frankendemon, dating @demongirl20‘s Runihara.)

Pascal (”The Devil’s Housecat”. Personification of my depression and anxiety.)

Vampires

Anastasia Tepes (Seemingly young woman in traditional Romanian clothing, vampire form based on a shovel nosed bat. Not only sucking the blood of, but more so MAULING her prey. Shares the last name of “Vlad The Impaler” [irl inspo for Dracula], although not directly related, gaining her the occasional nickname of “Princess”.)

Sirena Bellecour (Energy/Essence vampire. Drains the souls of those who watch her carnival perform, essentially making them mindless zombies, collecting their souls as a fine golden powder that she rubs into her skin to maintain her youthful appearance. Is 6′2″ sans heels. Super gay for @ivyxchaplin‘s Ivy.)

RPG

Morna (Spiritualist Changeling, name means “Beloved” in Gaelic. Irony there being she was abandoned by both her birth and adopted parents. Birth parents were a blood hag and a goblin, so although mostly outwardly beautiful, her sharklike teeth and claws require wariness. Chaotic good.)

Shamil Ellywick Caramip Folkor (Gnomish bard. Dislikes dwarves, obnoxiously short, and loves being a trickster. In her culture, it’s common to have a clusterfuck of names, so she tacks on nicknames onto her name as people get to meet her, resulting in a longggggg introduction. Chaotic good.)

Clown

Lolita Valdez aka Lolipop the Clown (Lolipop is intentionally spelled that way as a name pun. Hardcore decora lover. Works a local haunt during Halloween. Hangs out with @honkinjester‘s clown ocs. Practices clownism.)

Superhero

Guadalupe Montero aka Amaia: Queen of the Beasts (Father was Basque and mother was black. She’s homeless, living in Rio, staying in a local mission. Animalian shape shifter, she’s essentially a Brazillian Robin Hood. Amaia, her hero monicker, was given to her by the townspeople, meaning “The End”. For the poor, the end of suffering. For those more wealthy, the end of peace of mind.)

#personal #long post #this list is for personal reference #my ocs

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tothearke · 6 years ago

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first, my grandma on my moms side, who although is a super kind lady doesnt like being too soft, always says shes proud of me. mama told me shes noticed how far ive come in learning korean and is so happy ive found something ive really enjoyed that also helps me with real life stuff!! she said it makes her filled with pride to know that im learning so much about other cultures and appreciating the world around me instead of being in bed all the time like a used to. she also told me that she loves to see my paintings and pictures, and just knowing what ive been up to. mama loves seeing what wacky colors i dye my hair, and gives me ideas for the next one. its just amazing having my grandmother’s genuine approval!! i really love talking to mama about anything, and knowing that she loves me so much even after everything my whole family has gone through, makes me filled with so much happiness and second, my grandma on my dads side. shes a genuinely positive and driven woman. after going through her life being a social worker, going to volunteer in israel, working her butt off to support my dad as well as the rest of her family, and being kind to everyone around her, she still finds the time to make sure to help me and my brother whenever she can. things go up and down with my family but grammie’s remained sort of an anchor for us, pretty much always a force of stability and charity when we need it most. she’s a devout woman, going to church every sunday; but unlike a lot of what we see, she uses her faith for good, uniting communities and providing support for anyone no matter who they are. even as grammie’s grown older and life became more rocky, one thing always remained the same, she’d tell me god has a plan for me and that things will be okay. even though i may not be a christian, those words always stuck with me and got me through the darkest points in my life. i just love and appreciate her so much. https://www.instagram.com/p/BxiSbfwB7qv/?igshid=1ak7du3mjggn8

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mwccults2020 · 5 years ago

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Bibliography

I gave this out in class, but there was a request to post it, so here it is.

Bibliography of Cult/Totalitarianism Memoirs and Fictional accounts

Nazi Germany

Haffner, Sebastien. 2002. Defying Hitler: Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

Hunt, Irmgard A. 2005. On Hitler's Mountain: Overcoming the legacy of a Nazi childhood. New York, NY: William Morrow.

Muller, Robert. 1941. The world that summer. Great Britain: Sceptre.

Levi, Primo. 1987. Survival in Auschwitz. New York: Macmillan.

Mao’s China

Chang, Jung. 1991. Wild swans : Three daughters of China. New York: Simon & Schuster.

Cheng, Nien. 1986. Life and death in Shanghai. London: Grafton Books.

Min, Anchee. 1994. Red Azalea. New York: Pantheon Books.

Wu, Harry. 1994. Bitter Winds: A memoir of my years in China's Gulag. New York, NY: John Wiley and Sons.

Child Soldiers

Jal, Emmanuel. 2009. War Child: A boy soldier’s story. London: Abacus

Argentinian Dictatorship

Timerman, Jacobo. 1981. Prisoner without a name, cell without a number. New York: Knopf : distributed by Random House.

Pol Pot’s Cambodia

Luong Ung. 2007. First they killed my father: A daughter of Cambodia remembers. Mainstream Publishing.

Pran, Dith. 1997. Children of Cambodia’s killing fields : memoirs by survivors. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press

Oeur, U Sam. 2005. Crossing Three Wildernesses. Minneapolis: Coffee House Press.

McCormick, Patricia, 2012. Never Fall Down. Balzer and Bray

North Korea

Demick, Barbara. 2009. Nothing to Envy: Ordinary lives in North Korea. Spiegel and Grau.

Harden, Blaine. 2012. Escape from Camp 14: One man’s remarkable odyssey from North Korea to freedom in the West. Mantle

Park, Yeon-Mi. 2016. In Order to Live: A North Korean girl’s journey to freedom. Penguin

Religious/Political Cults

Layton, Deborah. 1998. Seductive poison : a Jonestown survivor's story of life and death in the Peoples Temple. New York: Anchor Books. Jim Jones and Peoples Temple

Hong, Nansook. 1998. In the Shadow of the Moons: My Life in the Reverend Sun Myung Moon's Family: Little Brown & Company. “Moonies” Unification Church

Williams, Miriam. 1998. Heaven's harlots: My fifteen years as a sacred prostitute in the Children of God cult. New York: William Morrow. Children of God – bible-based U.S. cult

Jones, Celeste, Kristina Jones, and Juliana Buhring. 2007. Not without my sister. London: Harper Element. Children of God cult

Noble, Kerry. 1998. Tabernacle of Hate: Why They Bombed Oklahoma City: Voyageur Pub. Right-wing “Christian Identity” movement

Guest, Tim. 2005. My Life in Orange : Growing Up with the Guru: Harvest Books. Rajneesh cult

Brown, Elaine. 1992. A taste of power : a Black woman's story. New York: Pantheon Books. Black Panther Party

Hilliard, David and Lewis Cole. 1993. This side of glory : the autobiography of David Hilliard and the story of the Black Panther Party. Boston: Little Brown. Black Panther Party

Collins, Eamon and Mick McGovern. 1997. Killing rage. London: Granta Books. IRA

Hearst, Patricia Campbell and Alvin Moscow. 1982. Patty Hearst: Her own story. New York: Avon Books. Symbionese Liberation Army

Stein, Alexandra. 2002. Inside Out: A memoir of entering and breaking out of a Minneapolis political cult. North Star Press.

Husain, Ed. 2007. The Islamist : why I joined radical Islam in Britain, what I saw inside and why I left. London: Penguin. Islamism

Banisadr, Masoud. 2004. Masoud : memoirs of an Iranian rebel. London: Saqi. Islamism

Wall, Elissa. 2009. Stolen Innocence. Harper. Fundamentalist Church of Latter Day Saints (US polygamists)

Jessop, Carolyn. 2007. Escape. Broadway. Fundamentalist Church of Latter Day Saints (US polygamists)

Jeffs, Brent. 2010. Lost Boy. Crown Publishing Group. Fundamentalist Church of Latter Day Saints (US polygamists)

Hill, Jenna Miscavige. 2013. Beyond Belief. Harper Collins.Scientology.

Kelley, Richard. 2008 Growing Up In Mama's Club - A Childhood Perspective of Jehovah's Witnesses (also two other volumes of a trilogy available). Jehovah’s Witnesses

Zimmerman, James. 2013. Deliverance at Hand: The deliverance of a devout Jehovah’s Witness. Freethought House.Jehovah’s Witnesses

Terry, Scott. Cowboys, 2012. Armageddon, and The Truth: How a Gay Child Was Saved from Religion.Jehovah’s Witnesses

Jones, Sarah. 2011. Call Me Evil, Let Me Go: A mother's struggle to save her children from a brutal religious cult. Harper Element. Pentecostal Church

Deen, Shulem. 2015. All who go do not return: A memoir. Graywolf Press. Haredi/Ultra Orthodox

Jews

Therapy/Self-Help Cults

Carlone, Judith L. and Elizabeth R. Burchard. 1999. Torn From The Arms of Satan: A True Story of Seduction and Escape from A Contemporary New Age Cult: Ace Academics.

McWilliams, Peter. 1994. Life 102: What to Do When Your Guru Sues You: Mary Book / Prelude Pr.

Fictional accounts

Koestler, Arthur. 1968. Darkness at noon. London: Longmans. Fiction based on USSR

Orwell, George. 1946. Animal Farm. New York: Signet Classic.

Orwell, George. 1949. 1984. New American Library: New York.

Morrison, Ewan. 2019. Nina X. Hachette UK. Fiction based on Lambeth Maoist political cult

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fashiontrendin-blog · 7 years ago

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We Need To Talk About Armie Hammer's Bonkers Billy Graham Movie

https://fashion-trendin.com/we-need-to-talk-about-armie-hammers-bonkers-billy-graham-movie/

We Need To Talk About Armie Hammer's Bonkers Billy Graham Movie

Armie Hammer is enjoying a nice little career renaissance, one that has earned him a ticket to Sunday’s Oscars, where 2017’s finest movie, “Call Me by Your Name,” will compete for Best Picture. After wading through flops like “The Lone Ranger” and “The Birth of a Nation,” Hammer is once again beloved. In the coming months, he’ll appear in the jocular Sundance highlight “Sorry to Bother You” and a Ruth Bader Ginsburg biopic that’s sure to be part of next year’s awards conversation.

Countless profiles have already traced Hammer’s roots as the aristocratic great-grandson of an oil magnate, and almost all of them herald 2010’s “The Social Network,” in which he pulled double duty playing twin Olympic athletes suing Mark Zuckerberg, as the actor’s illustrious Hollywood breakthrough.

Sure. “The Social Network” was Hammer’s breakthrough, and it’s certainly the movie that made him famous. But most profiles overlook the few projects that came before it, particularly one that caught my eye the other day: “Billy: The Early Years,” a biopic in which Hammer plays the one and only Billy Graham, who died last month at the age of 99.

Yep, Sir Armie ― the charming hunk who smooched Leo DiCaprio in “J. Edgar” and took a bite out of Timothée Chalamet’s semen-stained peach in “Call Me by Your Name” ― once portrayed America’s most famous evangelist, a Southern-fried live wire who popularized tent revivals, became the youngest college president in U.S. history, counseled actual presidents in the White House, called homosexuality “a sinister form of perversion” and urged his following to vote for Donald Trump despite the crude “Access Hollywood” tape that leaked during the 2016 campaign.

But let’s not get sidetracked by Graham’s politics when we have a movie so deliciously bonkers to dissect.

“Billy: The Early Years” is a true wonder of the world, far more vapid and unskilled than your average inspirational biopic. Distributed by Rocky Mountain Pictures, a conservative company that would later release “Atlas Shrugged: Part I” and Dinesh D’Souza’s “2016: Obama’s America,” it opened Oct. 10, 2008, on 282 screens ― a decent number for a limited release ― and collected all of $347,328 at the box office.

Further clogging this enigma, “Billy” is directed by Robby Benson, a minor ’70s heartthrob who lost out on the part of Luke Skywalker, voiced the Beast in Disney’s “Beauty and the Beast” and helmed a handful of “Friends” and “Ellen” episodes.

According to a Los Angeles Times report from 2008, “Billy” cost $3.6 million ― more than the budgets of “Saw” and “Moonlight” combined. The Billy Graham Evangelistic Association declined to endorse the film, calling it “greatly embellished,” even though it’s a saccharine portrait that paints Graham in an wholesome, exceedingly favorable light.

“They wanted to make a movie about someone whose face could be chiseled into a mountain,” Benson said, referring to the producers, who’d recruited him for the job. “I said, ‘Let’s make it fun and funny.’”

Well, it’s fun and funny, all right. It’s also a fascinating case study of an actor making an odd career choice on the pathway to fame. Let’s recap the film’s highlights.

‘Billy: The Early Years’: An Incredibly Specific Plot Summary

Following a Brooks & Dunn cover of Johnny Cash’s “Over the Next Hill (We’ll Be Home),” the movie opens with a framing device. Martin Landau ― yep, Oscar-winning Martin Landau ― plays the elderly, hospice-ridden Charles Templeton, Graham’s evangelist BFF who later denounced Christianity.

He’s giving an interview to a documentary crew, though said documentary’s only purpose in the film is to provide Templeton interludes that fade out to reveal Graham-centric flashbacks. Every shot in Landau’s hospital room is overlit like a second-rate sitcom.

The first flashback cue: “Billy’s life was like a fairy tale. […] Billy grew up in a Norman Rockwell painting.” The stage has been set. We transition to Charlotte, North Carolina.

As it turns out, all Billy Graham really wanted to do was play baseball! Armie Hammer ― or someone who looks like him; we only see his backside ― hits a ball into a starry night sky in slow motion.

Six minutes in, here comes the Armie we know and love, dressed in a trim baseball uniform and delivering flowers to his mama.

As we learn, 16-year-old Billy didn’t have much of a thing for religion, probably because of his devout, uncaring father. For example, during a prayer at the dinner table, the little rebel sneaks a bite of food. (Maybe this is a good time to note that it’s the Great Depression? Multiple characters mention it, but the movie doesn’t delve into many of the era’s social dynamics.)

Billy swears he’ll never become a preacher (or an undertaker, which we can’t fault him for). In his eyes, evangelists are “money-grubbing” hacks, period.

Blissfully, “Billy: The Early Years” has no time to waste. Immediately after he condemns preacher-hood, a farmhand invites Billy to attend to a tent revival. For the uninitiated, that’s an outdoor worship service where a man in a boxy suit shrieks about eternal damnation. There, the reverend addresses Billy directly, leading to the quickest change of heart ever known to changes of heart. Time to go to Bible school!

But forget all that altar-call stuff. The movie gets good ― real good ― in the next scene, when Armie dons overalls and tends to farm work like something out of a fetish fantasy. Luckily, his mama approves of Bible college! (Told you it was the quickest about-face.)

Oh, and “Billy: The Early Years” Armie is just as handsome as “Call Me by Your Name” Armie, but he’s slightly less sculpted, giving him a plantation-twink vibe. He was 22 when the movie came out, and more young boys would have come out too, had they seen it. (Little did we know the peach-related intrigue that awaited us.)

The movie returns to Landau for some fodder on Templeton’s less dogmatic religious conversion. Boring.

Meanwhile, Billy has begun selling hairbrushes door to door, bringing his chewy Southern cadence and calculated charm to one home after the next. Knock on my door, Billy!

Here he is cheesing at evangelism-school orientation. Look at those blue eyes shimmer.

When seminary begins, Billy’s roommate tells him preaching is no different than selling brushes. Voila! It all makes sense now. But phooey on that one girl in class who rejects his advances. “I just don’t think you’re going to amount to much,” she says, after showing up at a dance with another boy despite having told Billy she’d go with him. Ouch. What a fool.

As for Billy’s first sermon, well, I’m not sure what we’re meant to make of it. Amid a staggeringly earnest story, the scene jolts into a surreal whimsy that’s just plain confusing. Billy stands at the lectern nervously, fiddling with his notes and observing a clock’s defeating tick.

Then, as if a lightning bolt has struck him, he starts shouting to the room in nonsensical fragments (“And what about David and Moses?!”) as the camera zooms toward him feverishly. Zany hoedown music plays as he yaks. At first it seems like a fantasy sequence, something taking place in his head. A homily on LSD, if you will.

But it’s all too real. I think?

The congregation’s reaction shots ― also captured via quick, tilted zooms ― seal the deal. A diamond in the extreme rough, that Billy.

Now it’s back to his romantic life. He’s crushing on the girl who will become his wife, Ruth Bell (played by Stefanie Butler). After he passes her a note in the school library and ignites their courtship, Billy and Ruth start romancin’ it up. Naturally, it’s a sexless arrangement, as far as we see it, until children enter the picture. Gotta stay pure.

But remember how baseball was once the only thing Billy wanted to do? Well, apparently he’s no good at it anymore. Ruth knows how to throw a ball, but Billy does not know how to catch it without hurting his cute little hand. (Or his big hand. Armie Hammer is 6-foot-5!)

He squeals in pain every time. Does it really hurt that much to catch a baseball? (This is a real question. I wouldn’t know.)

Billy then has the dreamiest split-screen phone call with his mother to proclaim his love.

One quick serious note: Lindsay Wagner, the “Bionic Woman” and “Six Million Dollar Man” actress who portrays Billy’s mother, is actually rather lovely in this movie. She has a delicate way of making silly dialogue seem authentic. Bravo, Lindsay Wagner. Someone give her a real role.

OK, so we’re a little more than halfway through this 85-minute gem when, for some reason, Billy starts preaching to anyone who will listen. Literally. I guess that’s what evangelizing means? Sort of? Cut to him standing outside some dilapidated sheriff’s office wearing this oddly patterned suit and converting a nonbeliever in a matter of seconds. And to think how hopeless he was the last time we saw him orate.

Meanwhile, Martin Landau is still stuck in that hospice bed, recounting his own evangelism days and his friendship with Billy, who is now preaching to larger and larger crowds.

In the best moment so far (other than the overalls), we get this cool shot of Landau imagining his younger self, played by Kristoffer Polaha.

Polaha’s Templeton is suddenly everywhere in Billy’s life, including at the birth of his first daughter. But Charles’ faith is shaken by the horrors of World War II ― which, sure, fair. Makes sense. Nazis are horrific.

Things keep on zipping, and after a title card informs us that two years have passed, Billy goes from farmland sermonizing to being president of Northwestern Bible College in Minneapolis at the age of 29. He doesn’t want to be one of those money-grubbing preachers he slammed at the start of the movie, so he tells his staff to make sure he’s “accountable for every penny collected” and can avoid whatever might precipitate the “downfall of an evangelist.”

Here’s when things get Mike Pence-ish. In order to avoid a scandal, Billy decrees that “no man is to be in a room alone with a woman other than his wife.” It’s the most sexually explicit moment yet, other than the overalls. (But just wait.)

Charles’ crisis of faith intensifies as the war rages on. He brings his dilemma to Billy. How can God leave Hitler to run amok? How can the Almighty allow such travesties to blanket the globe?

They sit together on a couch, seemingly on the precipice of a big ol’ smooch. Little did Armie know, he was auditioning for “Call Me by Your Name” almost a decade too soon.

Charles abandons the pulpit, but Billy keeps praying nonetheless. When he next sees his friend, it’s the summer of 1949, four years after the end of World War II. Charles has doubled down on his agnosticism, and Billy, now 31, has doubled down on his convictions.

More importantly, they’ve both doubled down on their sexual tension. This is presumably unintentional, but let’s ignore that boring detail and accept the scene at face value.

Now, with less than 12 minutes remaining, a seed of doubt has been planted in Billy.

He has a dark night of the soul ― literally. In the next scene, he teleports like a ghost, appearing in the middle of the woods somewhere. Now we know where that $3.6 million went: The CGI is lit.

It’s his come-to-Jesus moment. He is coming to Jesus to beg for proof of the Bible’s veracity. “Where are you?” he yells, after which a montage of moments from his still-young life flash by. That’s it! Mystery solved! It only took recalling his past to move on with his future.

“I hear you, Lord,” he says, again proving that Billy Graham had the hastiest religious conversion ever known to preachers whose net worth totals $25 million.

And now, everything’s hunky-dory. Billy’s “early years” are coming to an end, and so is the movie. Suddenly, he’s preaching about his friend Charles in his own tent revivals and telling the masses that Jesus “came from that part of the world which touches Europe and Africa and Asia” ― aka the Middle East ― and “probably had brown skin.”

Considering how much some fundamentalists love White Jesus, this is maybe sort of a progressive idea to include in this otherwise ginger movie?

Anyway, apparently this is what it looks like to stand in front of a sky. (Note: The sky is gray at the start of this concluding sermon, but grows progressively bluer as Billy continues. It’s a metaphor!)

And the crowd! What a mighty crowd! He made it though the wilderness! (Yeah right.)

That’s the final shot. The end credits roll to the sounds of Michael W. Smith’s “Amazing Love.”

Here’s what we learned about Billy Graham from “Billy: The Early Years”: He’s a walking version of the hymn “Old-Time Religion,” blessed with a pleasant working-class upbringing and a squeaky-clean respectability but cursed by a sex appeal he can’t take advantage of and what seems to be no desire to visit his old friend, who is stuck in hospice giving interviews about Billy’s life.

You should watch this movie. It’s a masterwork to behold.

A representative for Armie Hammer did not respond to our request for comment.

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markosyn34055-blog · 7 years ago

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