#obeah man come back

[roadside-enshrined]

if mr peele makes a nope sequel he BETTER use this song in the soundtrack s'all

[aceissomunster]

Clearing up misconceptions and such about Tim Drake for all you non-comic reading fic-writers and people that just don’t know. Mostly chronologically

Under the cut, cause this is gonna get long ,,

While Tim isn’t my favorite batfamily member, or even robin in particular, he is the one whose comics i’ve read the most of and know the most about.

If i’m wrong about any of this, please let me know!

- Tim’s parents weren’t especially abusive. they were neglectful, as in leaving him with the nannies and sending him off to boarding schools when they were out of the country, which was frequently. also, they did love him. i don’t even know where people got the idea that they didn’t.

- Tim did not stalk the bats, until he noticed Batman’s grief-driven violence and decided to follow, photograph, and gather evidence

- he also didn’t just go up to Bruce and ask to be Robin, he actually tracked down Dick Grayson to the circus and tried to convince him to come back to being Robin. Dick drove him to the manor, and then found out Tim’s whole story.

then Alfred let him down into the cave, Batman and Nightwing got captured by Two-Face, and Alfred practically threw the Robin costume at him and they went to save Batman and Nightwing. THEN Tim told Bruce that he was Robin. (— A Lonely Place of Dying, Tim’s 13)

- Before even becoming Robin fully, Tim’s parents were kidnapped and held for ransom in Haiti by a man called the “Obeah Man” (“Obeah” translates roughly to black magic, I’m pretty sure). Batman finds them by following the people that were going to pay the ransom, and they were being kept in some underground place? I’m not sure, but it was really really hot. There’s a pitcher of water, and Janet drinks it, and Jack starts drinking it, and Janet dies near-instantly, and Batman smacks the water out of Jack’s hands but Jack still ends up completely paralyzed and put into a coma. (— Rite of Passage)

- Fun fact: Janet’s funeral was Christmas eve

- it’s only after his mother’s death and father’s hospitalization that he goes to Paris (keep in mind, Batman did not force him to go, Tim wanted to!) to train under Rahul Lama, and then with Lady Shiva. (Robin mini 1)

- he doesn’t actually get trained by Shiva in the run, but it’s vaguely implied

- Fun fact: Tim actually kills Lady Shiva once (i forget what the storyline’s called, but it’s somewhere in Robin 52-55 ish)

- OH YEAH, Jason Todd was NOT Tim’s Robin. Tim Drake has been Dick Grayson’s #1 fanboy since the circus. He could not care less about Jason

- Fun fact: early in his Robin career, he hallucinated Dick and Jason as Robin (even though Dick was very alive) giving him advice

- He had friends outside of YJ. Like his best friend Sebastian Ives, his friend Callie, his (ex) girlfriend Ariana Dzerchenko, and a good bit more.

- he started dating Steph as Robin while dating Ariana as Tim, but Ari and Tim broke up like the day after Steph and Tim got together (not because of Steph, Ari didn’t know Tim was Robin, but because of other stuff that happened. go read Robin.)

- fun fact: Tim actually didn’t have contingency plans for Young Justice/the Titans, because he actually trusts them, unlike his mentor. (this is mentioned sometime in Young Justice 1998, but I don’t remember the issue)

- Tim’s 16 (not 14 or whatever THOSE tim stans try to say) and on the Teen Titans, when the fabled and constantly over-exaggerated “Titan’s Tower incident” occurs. Tim is fully suited up in the Robin suit, he puts up a good fight with Jason (who is in an adult-sized Robin costume, by the way) until he gets knocked out. This fight leaves no lasting injuries on Tim. (Teen Titans (2003) #29)

- the whole Jason slitting his throat thing happens in a different comic. (Batman: Hush, i’m pretty sure, correct me if i’m wrong)

- Tim also kicks Jason in the nuts the next time he sees him, so there’s not really any hard feelings there.

- Tim’s dad finds out he’s Robin and makes him quit, and Steph becomes Robin. Then Steph dies and Tim’s school gets shot up and he becomes Robin again.

- Tim leaves Jack alone at their home to go find the man sent to kill him. While he’s gone, the man (Captain Boomerang) kills Jack. (— Identity Crisis #5)

- after Jack dies, Bruce offers to adopt Tim and Tim turns him down and creates a fake uncle. Batman finds out the uncle is fake, commends him on his good job of making a fake uncle, and helps him make it better. Bruce later offers again to adopt Tim and he accepts. Damian literally shows up like the very issue after this in Batman

- Kon dies, then Bart dies a bit after. And, not to hate on yall TimKon shippers out there, but he also planned to clone Bart, and also in TT03 like 50-53ish, when him and the other Titans run into their future evil selves again, their Superman (Kon) and Flash (Bart) are clones.

- All those deaths happen relatively close together and in that order, I think, when Tim’s 16-17. But comic timelines are weird, like how Tim was 15 when the Quake hit and for the year-long duration of No Man’s Land (from New Year’s to New Year’s), he stays 15.

- When Bruce “dies” and Dick (Batman) makes Damian Robin. Damian needs guidance, and Dick wants him and Tim to be equals. Dick had good intentions and did the right thing! He just didn’t have the best execution.

- When Tim finds the painting and tells Dick about it, Dick DOES NOT THREATEN TO SEND HIM TO ARKHAM. He, reasonably (considering all the losses Tim has just faced) assumes Tim needs mental help and grief counseling, and recommends him a therapist in Metropolis.

- Tim decides to just go find evidence that Bruce isn’t dead by himself, and steals the Red Robin suit and runs off without even telling Alfred (Red Robin)

- Ra’s al Ghul sends people to kill Tim at first, but Tim obviously doesn’t die and breaks Pru’s nose twice. Eventually and reluctantly, Tim accepts the League’s help and resources.

- Tim finds his best piece of evidence in a cave in the desert with Pru, Z, and Owens. right after leaving the cave, an assassin attacks them, killing Z and Owens, slitting Pru’s throat, and stabbing Tim. Tim, ACTIVELY BLEEDING OUT, brings himself and Pru to the car they used to get there, drives to a hotel, CLIMBS UP THE BUILDING TO ONE OF THE TOP FLOORS WITH PRU WHILE THEY ARE BOTH BLEEDING OUT, and passes out on the bed, where Tam Fox (sent by Lucius to go find Tim) finds them. and so do a bunch of ninjas.

- Tim had to have his spleen removed because it was kebabed with a sword and was going to rupture. Ra’s also does NOT keep it in a jar.

- during the whole LOA part of RR, Ra’s is NOT preying on Tim. there is NO ROMANCE THERE. (no offense if you see it or think it’s implied, but to me it’s just really not?) its just RESPECT.

- with the whole bases exploding thing, its because the Council of Spiders was there and also he just doesn’t like the LOA. he gave them like 15 seconds to get out, obviously all the assassins managed to get out of the massive, complex bases in 15 seconds. (comic logic: if it’s not specified that it did kill them, then it didn’t.)

- the whole “Damian cutting Tim’s line” is also very exaggerated. Damian did it because of Tim’s “Hit List” and because Damian was on it. and Tim fell a few feet, caught himself, then fought Damian (neither won because Dick broke it up because they were literally right in front of THE alley.)

- not really a timeline thing, but in general, tim is VERY against murder. Part of the reason for this is Batman’s morals, which he built his own around, sure. But I think an even BIGGER part of his moral code is just to not become evil future gun Batman. And evil future gun Batman has no qualms against murder, he even killed Damian.

that’s pretty much the main stuff i wanted to touch on. LMK if i should add anything else or if i got anything wrong, thanks!!

No hate if u use the fanon stuff btw, i just know that a lot of people don’t read the comics and don’t know the actual information.

If you want pictures of some of these events from the comics, just lmk and I’ll provide

[lacrimosathedark]

PSA for Tim Drake Fanfic Writers

There's this thing I see in a lot of Tim fics that always has me immediately closing the fic. And I think it may be that people just aren't as obsessive about info as me and don't know, so I thought I'd make a little informational post.

Tim's mother was dead before he was officially accepted as Robin.

I see so many fics with Tim being around people like Conner and Stephanie and his mom is alive, when he wouldn't have been anywhere near meeting them. It drives me insane. So let me give you the rundown on Tim's start.

So, we all know A Lonely Place of Dying, right? Where Tim tracks Dick down to Haly's Circus, attempts to demand he return as Robin, gets taken to Wayne Manor, and when Batman and Nightwing get tangled up with Two-Face he becomes Robin to save them.

You may also know that Bruce refused to have another child in the field with him without intensive training over the course of several months.

During this training, an arc known as Rite of Passage, Jack and Janet Drake are kidnapped in Haiti by a...probably problematic villain called Obeah Man. He nearly kills them both, but Batman does get there to save them...only for Janet to accidentally drink poison and die and Jack to suffer severe nerve damage and drop into a coma.

This is why Tim could get away with a whole overseas training arc after that. His dad was comatose and his mom was dead. Bruce became his temporary legal guardian.

He also meets and ends up teaming up with Lady Shiva during this overseas training adventure. She's also the one who gave him his collapsible bo staff. And just for the record, she continually goaded Tim into killing her, as she is wont to do. Tim clearly didn't kill her, but he did defeat her in combat. So give my boy some respect for his skills please.

Hell, he knew Jean-Paul Valley before he knew Stephanie. Knightfall, when Bane famously broke Bruce's back, came before the introduction of Spoiler and Cluemaster.

And then Jack Drake is awake from his coma by the time Tim has met Bart, which was also before he met Kon.

Just...if Tim's Robin, his mom is dead, okay? Totally fair to make an AU because canon is wackadoo already but please label it cuz AUs are cool so long as I know that's what it is and if it's not labelled my brain decides the writer doesn't know what they're talking about and I can't read it even if it's one of the highest rated fics in my search and it causes me great pain because I NEED CONTENT 😭

Thank you for coming to my Tim Talk.

[timdrakequotes]

“He’s coming back to Gotham. I have six extradition lawyers ready to put him away for life. Part of me wanted something more, but this is enough. It’s not vengeance…but it is justice.”

--Tim Drake on the Obeah Man (Robin #183 – Origins & Omens)

[connanro]

i’m sure someone has made this list before. but i’ve recently reread the robin (1993-2009) comics and realised how Batshit Crazy tim’s time as robin was. here’s a list of major events that happened during his tenure:

obeah man???: still not clear on exactly what happened here, but his parents are both poisoned, resulting in his mom’s death and his dad’s long-term coma.

knightfall/knightquest/knightsend: the iconic arc when bane breaks bruce’s back and azrael (derogatory) temporarily becomes batman then quickly goes off the rails and tries to kill tim, forcing him to go solo and work with huntress (hashtag girlboss) before bruce returns and handles azrael

contagion: the incurable Apocalypse Virus™ threatens to wipe out gotham city and tim naturally catches it and nearly dies before bruce returns with The Cure

the final night: a sun-eater tries to Eat The Sun. tim meets impulse! robin and spoiler defend gotham city on their own during the crisis! tim’s girlfriend’s crazy mafia uncle tries to kill him after finding them in bed together (not doing the sexy. but it looked like they were gonna do it.)

cataclysm: a massive earthquake levels half of gotham, throwing the city into crisis and causing some problems in tim’s personal life as his father relocates them to keystone briefly before tim’s misery convinces him to move them back to gotham

no man’s land (a personal favourite): gotham’s post-earthquake crisis worsens and the government decides that the best solution is to declare it no man’s land. shockingly, this causes Even More Problems. there’s a whole thing where tim’s dad realises tim snuck off into the city, and the news about it makes people sympathetic enough to gotham’s (cough a rich white family’s) plight that the government decides to actually help. cass becomes batgirl!

young justice/teen titans drama!: so much went on here. i don’t even know where to begin. the whole imperiex/our worlds at war apocalyptic crisis. tim quits young justice after the thing where the justice league discovers batman’s Super Paranoid Contingency Plans™ causes the team to distrust him. he returns to the team, which is disbanded after a team-up with the titans goes badly. the teen titans is formed. general fuckery involving tim’s civilian life!

unmasked: tim’s dad finds out he’s robin, confronts batman in the batcave with a gun and forces tim to quit. steph becomes robin and cuts off contact with tim. superboy tries to convince tim to come back to teen titans, but tim insists that he’s Totally Happy Just Being A Civilian, Kon. Really. He’s Less Stressed Now That He’s Not Dealing With Constant Crises! (lying)

war games: oh god. we all know this one. gang war! gotham in peril! steph dies! tim meets evil!future batman!tim who murdered the entire rogue gallery with the gun that killed bruce’s parents. tim seriously considers killing himself to prevent this future.

identity crisis: a Mysterious Villain begins targeting families of the justice league. because tim is not allowed to have anything remotely nice, his dad is murdered (by captain boomerang, which is frankly adding insult to injury). tim invents an uncle to avoid getting adopted by bruce (really, kid? really?). bruce finds out and helps him solidify the fake uncle's identity (bruce no)

robin: to kill a bird: jason todd returns all crazy and nearly kills tim at titans’ tower (dressed in a version of his robin costume) and signs his name in tim’s blood. theatre kid much, jason?

infinite crisis: c’mon dc, you’ve done like four world-ending crises in the last decade. chill your goddamn tits. the teen titans, doom patrol, and justice society of america team up to take down superboy prime. normal superboy dies due to the fight, despite tim’s desperate attempt to find a cure. also bludhaven got nuked and tim’s stepmother gets a traumatic brain injury and is permanently hospitalised. then bruce, tim, and dick go on vacation and tim accepts bruce’s offer to adopt him! yay!

one year later: cass is briefly evil! the league of assassins tries to recruit tim, who barely escapes with his life after turning them down. then he goes a little crazy with grief, tries to clone kon, and has a brief relationship with extreme violence before deciding to break it off.

the resurrection of ra’s al ghul: damian arrives in gotham! and tries to kill tim multiple times! ra’s tries to seduce tim to the Dark Side with the promise of resurrecting his parents! tim refuses! ra’s tries to force bruce to sacrifice either tim or damian to become his new host body! tim tries to sacrifice himself but is convinced by dick to Not Do That at the last minute!

batman r.i.p.: bruce dies, but not really! fun times!

battle for the cowl: i like to pretend this doesn’t exist, because it is Stupid As Fuck. jason nearly kills tim again, but damian (!) rescues him.

red robin: dick makes damian robin. the end!

but not really

and then of course the whole red robin series (which i love) is just like. tim is passively suicidal! tim loses an entire important organ while working with the loa! tim becomes ceo of wayne enterprises then blows up the loa and ra’s almost kills him! tim is nearly raped by one of ra’s’ daughters because ra’s really wants tim’s babies! this is not dealt with at all!!! love that for him

[obeah-rituals]

Why should you get in touch with an experienced Obeah man in Trinidad?

Obeah is a form of religious practice comprising different rituals, even magical spells, originating among the Afro-Caribbean population, hailing from Western Africa, and currently residing in the West Indies. Obeah is comparable to Voodoo, Haitian Vodou, Palo, and Santería, as well as similar other practices where the practitioners establish communication with their ancestors and spirits. 

 Many of the rituals of Obeah have to do with healing, and as a result, this practice is deeply connected with the spiritual beliefs of the people, coming from Africa and now living in the West Indies. Even though Obeah was declared illegal in Jamaica back in 1760 and most people practice it openly, many men and women in West Indies practice this religion in their day-to-day lives. Most people outside the Afro-Caribbean diaspora community are not even aware of the existence of Obeah and its practice. 

     One of the things that make Obeah or Obecyahism different from Voodoo is it lacks any organized creed or method of worship. While a lot of people consult with an Obeah practitioner because they want to receive healing, it is essentially associated with magic, sorcery, invocation of spirits, and fetishism. A lot of people in the past used to work with Obeah when they needed to make love potions that could be used to attract another person with whom he or she shares an interest. An Obeah man in Trinidad can consider the individual requirements or problems of his client and come up with spells and potions to resolve them. 

 For people with a strong faith in Obeah, it works as a powerful method to remedy all kinds of problems in life. Obeah has also been actively used for managing career problems, health issues, competition among business owners, mental anxiety, and other problems that people may face in their daily lives. 

 Over the years, Obeah has evolved into a process of cursing others and controlling and manipulating their lives. It is a reason many people consult with Obeah practitioners, as they can have the peace of mind they need knowing that they are safe from someone using Obeah to control their lives. 

 As with any other magical practice, there are positive and negative aspects of Obeah that can impact its users in different ways. If you are troubled in your life for some reason, and you need to have the support of an Obeah practitioner who can consider your issues and recommend the best measures, you should reach out to an Obeah expert in Trinidad who can get you the best solutions. These professionals have many years of experience with Obeah. Hence, this makes it possible for them to bring peace to their clients. 

 Through the practice of Obeah, it is possible to invoke the spiritual forces that surround a human being and impact that person’s life in myriad ways. The unique thing about Obeah is that it is not a one-track system of belief but encompasses many different ideas and beliefs. 

 People within the African and West Indian communities strongly believe that an Obeah man is the ultimate spiritual counselor they need when trying to manage the difficulties in their lives. It is no wonder that an Obeah man is well-regarded with great respect in the community. So once you have decided that you are going to consult with an Obeah man who can help you to remedy the issues that you have been facing for some time, make sure that you get in touch with a Trinidad-based Obeah man for the best results.    

[novelhater]

finished out there screaming: an anthology of new black horror by various authors, edited by jordan peele

as with any anthology, there were some stories that i enjoyed more than others.

highlights for me:

"pressure" by ezra claytan daniels lingered with me for several days after i read it. partly because it touched on some of my pre-existing fears about the end of the world and partly because it feels very honest and real. we will probably go right on leading our lives and being who we are - flawed, our stories and conflicts unresolved - right up until the bitter end. this and one other story in the anthology are probably the only two that generated actual anxiety for me.

"the aesthete" by justin c. key has such strong voice that i keep misremembering that i listened to an audio version. i love the concept of the ghost in the machine being the machine itself being haunted rather than a person being haunted via a machine. i'd like to see that being explored more.

"invasion of the baby snatchers" by lesley nneka arimah has some serious meat. the narrative voice is sharp, witty, and compelling. just take the first paragraph:

Used to be, you could tell an alien pregnancy from a human one with your naked eye, back before they'd figured people out. Back when post-hysterectomy wombs ballooned overnight, or an entire nursing home of geriatrics would be expecting and everyone's, like, expecting what exactly, and send in the troops.

okay! you have my attention!

yet there's also an underlying feeling of growing unease that kicks in pretty much immediately when arimah reiterates a few sentences down, in a much more serious tone, "send in the troops." how am i supposed to feel about this? how do i feel about it?

probably my favorite choice arimah made with this story is writing about unmistakably gendered violence while also making pretty much all the characters women. so extremely deliberate.

i also really liked "the other one" by violet allen. a rare example of well executed horror about mental illness. it explores the dual anxieties of stigma surrounding mental illness and the actual experience of having one, without descending into the equivalent of an online neurodivergence psa.

i would read a novel-length version of "the most strongest obeah woman of the world" by nalo hopkinson.

i would ALSO read a novel-length version of "hide & seek" by p. djeli clark, which seems to be on the verge of asking, "what if supernatural was good?" i think that from start to finish this is the best, most polished story in the entire collection.

"origin story" by tochi onyebuchi is ALSO really, really good. but i wouldn't call it horror. except that the line "We're Itachi" caused me psychic damage. so. there's that.

AND now we have to talk about "a grief of the dead" by rion amilcar scott. because even though it's not my favorite it's still the one that hit me hardest and made me the most uncomfortable and i think that makes it the winner.

i wasn't a fan for the first few pages, but then about halfway through it really digs into some unpleasant stuff that just absolutely struck home at the little knot of tension that lives in my stomach and starts vibrating when the horror gets good. like a geiger counter.

reading it is like poking a bruise. it's hard to explain but i think horror fans will understand. first it hit with "of course crisis actors are real" and i was like. whoa. i try not to have fiction taboos i won't read at all but that comes really close. deeply, deeply uncomfortable.

but scott doesn't just skim the surface for the sake of being momentarily shocking, he digs in hard. and it's so ugly and disquieting and human and man. that is IT. this is what horror is all about. poking the bruise. and wow i haven't felt it like this in a long time.

if there is a cutting edge for horror to be on, i think this is it.

i don't even think this story needed the additional layer of supernatural although the two narratives were obviously woven together carefully and intentionally. in fact, the supernatural element honestly feels somewhat impotent when put next to the gut punch that is the middle.

it's recommended reading, but you have to be there for it.

aaaaand one final honorary mention for "a bird sings by the etching tree" by nicole d. sconiers. ...this, too, is yuri.

[kneworder]

there's a gotham that's a little less kind, if you can believe it. one where bruce wayne witnesses the tragic deaths of the world-reknowned flying graysons but batman never comes back for their son. shaking with grief and a deep, festering rage strong enough to last a lifetime, little dickie grayson isn't so careful when he listens in on tony zucco's plans to extort the circus. all that rage, all that grief, all that goodness gets wasted when a low-level thug catches him eavesdropping.

richard grayson is murdered when he's nine years old. a bullet wound to the chest, dead before he hits the ground.

no one is there to stop it.

(his last thoughts, shamefully, aren't of his parents, or his murderers. his last thought is of the black shape vaguely resembling a man that swooped in and ushered him away from the big top, checking him over for injuries before melting back into the night. dick wishes the monster-man would come back for him -- not to save him, just so he isn't alone when he dies. he's already learned that batman only shows up when it's too late.)

jason todd has been living on his own for months when he spots the fancy black car parked in crime alley. anyone smart would know not to leave their vehicle there, so jason reasons that he's doing the world a favor and teaching an idiot a lesson by jacking their tires.

that idiot is batman and batman, who looks at jason and sees a tragedy before he sees a child, is not amused. that idiot doesn't know what to do with a kid who talks back to him. that idiot leaves jason in more capable hands at ma gunn's school for boys.

jason todd is stabbed through the stomach with a switchblade at the old woman's orders, by kid who's a little faster than he could have been. his body isn't found until a week later, when the gcpd busts faye gunn for teaching without a license and finds way more than they bargained for.

(jason dies thinking of that idiot and he hates it. jason dies cursing batman's name, because for a second, he really thought that the guy would help him out of the nightmare he's been living since his dad slipped off to god only knows where and his mom slipped away on the floor of their apartment with a needle in her arm. jason dies thinking he should have known by now not to trust an adult who says they're here to help, because they've never once meant it. jason is twelve years old. the newspapers call him another tragedy of park row. jason hates it.)

tim drake doesn't learn that his parents are dead until hours after it's happened. it's for his own good, they say, that he didn't see the footage of them screaming while the obeah man slit their friend's throat in front of them, that he didn't hear of the ransom until it had been paid and ignored. ritual sacrifice, they say, stuttering and avoiding his eyes as if to lessen the blow of telling him his parents were burned at the stake in haiti while he peacefully did problem sets in his gotham academy dorm.

tim can't be alone with his grief but he is so, so alone, so he does what he can to stay afloat. his parents died because of their company and its supposed corporate greed, and tim, ever the detective even when there's no one to hone that skill, throws himself into refuting the obeah man's complaints. his findings are less than satisfactory, because phil marin, current ceo of drake industries and former chief financial officer, is dirty -- stealing products with small time gangs and pocketing the insurance money.

and tim isn't exactly quiet about it. he's always been good at keeping secrets, but subtlety is a learned skill, and tim never had time to pick it up. when marin learns that the kid set to become majority shareholder as soon as he's of age is onto to him, well. he can't let it stand.

tim drake is a contract killing, because contract killers are a dime a dozen in gotham and phil marin has quite a lot more than a dozen of dimes. he makes an investment, and marin, for all that he's crooked, is a good businessman. no one ever questions that poor little timmy drake, fresh off losing both parents -- and so violently, too! --, with no remaining family and an uncertain future ahead, would take his own life.

(tim dies furious and terrified and exhausted and consumed with thoughts of the flying graysons. he remembers little dickie grayson, who seemed so much larger than life when he posed with tim and their parents, whose grin seemed so full of life in the last photo he would ever take. dick died because he stuck his nose where it didn't belong, and the irony of his own murder echoing the one that tormented him for years is not lost on tim -- he might have died laughing if the noose allowed for it. at least he got an extra five years.)

talia tells damian that he's his father's only heir. he should be honored, and he is! but father is not what he expects. it takes time before damian is able to convince him to take him out on the streets, because father has odd ideas about children and what they are ready for. as if damian would let himself be killed by some common gothamite.

damian can prove himself by night at his father's side, but by day he is at a loss for what to do with himself. the league had structure. his days were firmly regimented, and any deviation was met with punishment. father does not seem to know what to do with him when he isn't wearing a mask. no structure. so damian takes to wandering the manor the summer of his arrival.

talia told damian that he's the only child his father ever had, and damian knows it's true because father had confirmed as much. damian is his heir, and he must act in a way that honors that role. paranoia is not becoming of the heir to the bat.

it's just that -- the manor is drafty, and that’s why the chandeliers swing whenever it's sunny outside. ace could do with more training, and that's why there are always books strewn about the library floor. he’s just sleep deprived, and that's why he doesn't remember leaving his computer open to stock prices.

paranoia.

(thomas wayne, after overindulging at the annual elliot gala, once confided in his son that he hated being a doctor because he was haunted by the people he couldn't save. he did not disclose how literal his words were.)

sometimes damian wakes up to the sound of a child laughing. he tried to help a boy lost on the property to find his way off only to turn around and find himself alone. one time he blinked and went from the parlor to a crumbling apartment complex in park row. paranoid, paranoid, paranoid.

(the manor is full of ghosts. not all of them are figurative.)

[kudosmyhero]

Batman (vol. 1) #457: Master of Fear

Read Date: September 29, 2022 Cover Date: December 1990 ● Writer: Alan Grant ● Penciler: Norm Breyfogle ● Inker: Steve Mitchell ● Colorist: Adrienne Roy ● Letterer: Todd Klein ● Editor: Dennis O'Neil ◦ Kelley Puckett ●

Synopsis: Scarecrow has Batman and Vicki Vale captured and reveals his plan. He had Christmas cards and skeleton masks sent to 50 people chosen at random. The cards were coated with one of his new hypno-toxins that removed a person's fear. After the toxin had time to take effect, Scarecrow called them all and suggested they try killing, which removed of their inhibitions and they did. While a city in fear was pleasing to him, it was all just an elaborate trap to bring Batman to him so he could use his various fear toxins on him and slowly "unwrap" his mind…the ultimate Christmas present to himself.

While beginning Batman's fear sessions, Rico Marcuse and his henchmen drive away with the bonus money Scarecrow had given them. When Rico opens the envelope he is doused with Scarecrow's gas and, in a fit of rage, attacks the driver. The car, now out of control, crashes into a storage pile of toxic waste.

Tim Drake has taken a cab to the Scarecrow's hideout and searches for the Batmobile to see if Batman fell into the trap. He sees it and decides he must attempt a rescue. Tim traps two henchmen and knocks out a third before coming upon Scarecrow and Batman. Donning a ski mask to avoid being recognized, Tim orders Scarecrow to free Batman. However, he forgot to survey the scene and he is attacked by the henchman who was holding Vicki out of Tim's sight. As Tim disables him, Scarecrow grabs the latest fear gas he was using on Batman, called "Essence De Trauma", and throws it at Vicki and Tim.

While Vicki suffers from reliving having her puppy run over by a car, Tim is tormented by the Obeah Man. Tim is paralyzed with fear when images of the two previous Robins appear telling him not to fight the fear but to live with it. They remind him that feeling fear doesn't mean you can't still act. Taking their advice, Tim manages to get to his feet and slam Scarecrow into the shelves holding all his other fear toxins which douse and effectively disable him.

Tim takes off his mask in front of Batman who, still somewhat delirious, calls him Robin. Tim frees Batman then goes back to the Batmobile to avoid being seen. Some policemen arrive having been called by Tim's taxi driver who was concerned leaving a kid alone near a deserted factory. They take the Scarecrow into custody and Vicki to the hospital.

Batman finds Tim. Tim fears he will never be Robin now for disobeying Batman's orders but had deduced it was a trap set by Scarecrow. Batman asks Tim why he didn't don the Robin suit and Tim says he was afraid that, if he failed, he would disgrace it. Batman tells him that sometimes, when justified, heroes get to break the rules and calls him Robin. Back at the Batcave Tim admits his apprehension of wearing the previous Robins' suit due to the history it carries. Batman acknowledges the weight the symbol carries and presents Tim with a new, upgraded suit which he dons for the first time.

(https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Batman_Vol_1_457)

Fan Art: Scarecrow by RoqueRobinArt

Accompanying Podcast: ● Everyone Loves the Drake - episode 12

[froldgapp]

I guess this must have been done before. If not with the Core Four then some other group within the wider DC property.

Something something Wonderful Life vehicle, where the Core Four come to in a world where Tim was never Robin. Initially they try to approach him which is when they see he has very normal, stable life.*

They have the option to "burst the bubble" as it were and bring Tim "back" with them or leave him as he is.

Here starts the conflict between the three friends. Kon thinks of course they should tell Tim. It's Tim! And he's theirs, his–he doesn't have much and this isn't fair. While Cassie–though shaken by this happier, more contented Tim–believes it's wrong to steal him away from what seems like a good life. Bart plays child-of-messily-divorcing-parents and tries for light-hearted damage control.

I think in the end, it being a play on the WL trope, I'd go for the ol' It Was Just a Dream Cop-Out, with maybe the three supers knocked out and Tim, the squishy human, being the one to wake them up and welcome back to the "real world" with him safely in it :D

*. I need to go back and read the whole Obeah Man sequence again, but I think Tim's life will still have been changed by that, but nonetheless, like the Tim he is, he finds his way through and manages to stitch together a pretty regular, contented (maybe?) life.

oh oh...

new core four idea go brr

[georgexarmourer]

CHAPTER 1 Trinidad and Tobago lie at the northeastern corner of Venezuela from which it is separated by the Gulf of Pariah. It is the most southerly link of that beautiful chain of islands, which form a curved line starting at the top of the Florida Peninsula to the mouth of the Orinoco River called the West Indies. The island of Trinidad is rectangular in shape. It is 50 miles long and 37 miles wide, with a surface area of 1,863 square miles. The highest range of mountains, in the north, crosses the width of the island from Galena Point to Dragon’s Mouth. The only two clearly marked breaks in the hills are Tucker Valley and Diego Martin Valley. It is in Diego Martin Valley that Mother Dora, The Obeah Woman, lives. She is like a mother to all the people in Simian Village, for she brought 99% of them into this world. She cares for them with her healing herbs and she is there for them in times of trouble. No one knows how old Mother Dora is. To look at her, one would say she is in her late fifties. She stands about five foot six inches and weighs one hundred and sixty pounds. Her head is tied up in a bright red and white floral head wrap which is the same pattern as her dress. She pulls her black shawl about her shoulders, and takes her medicine basket in her hand. It is the dry season, and the Trade Winds are blowing through the trees as she steps out of her house. The smell of her garden always brings a smile to her face. She walks around to the back of her house, quickly picking a few fresh herbs for her basket. Now she is ready and it is time. She places her basket on her head and walks briskly along the path that leads to Simian Village. As she walks, the wind swirls about her kissing her cheeks and tugging at her skirts like an impatient lover. She smiles and sang a love song to the Great Spirit in the wind. The dirt road turns sharply to the right. She walked quickly as she approached the house of Shanka, a Portuguese man whose wife was in her eighth month of pregnancy. It was after midnight, and all the lights in the house were on. She could hear the cries of Shanka’s wife, Gloria, in pain. She heard Shanka’s mother-in-law saying, “Shanka, you’ve got to get Mother Dora! She will know what to do! It’s all too soon!” “You have four more weeks yet!” Mother Dora stood outside the door. It swung open and the tall man stared into her smiling face with deep astonishment. She walked forward and touched his shoulder. “It will be alright.” She said, as she walked past him into the house. 5 “Hot coals!” she commanded to Shanka’s mother-in-law, Edna, who leaped to her feet and ran outside to the still shouldering fire pit. She put some of the coals into a flat pan and brought them to Mother Dora. The house had two bedrooms, a living room and a kitchen. Mother Dora put incense on the hot coals. Soon, the whole house was full of smoke. Then she started to sing as she opened all the windows and doors of the house. She then took a white bottle from her basket and poured its contents in a wooden bowl. Finally, she sprinkled the house and everyone in it, with a bundle of fresh herbs. Shanka sat on his living room sofa, holding his two sons. Jessie the oldest, was six. Martin was two. Edna sat on the bed, trying to comfort her daughter. “It’s alright girl. Mother Dora is here.” Somehow, she knew to come just now.” She wet her daughter’s forehead with a damp cloth. Dora took a small black bottle from her basket. She held it firmly as she walked over to the southwest corner of the bedroom. She stood facing the corner as though standing in front of a person. “You get out from here right now!” she commanded in a low, hard voice, as cold as water in a cellar. “I know Cocoka sent you and I know why, but you ain’t going to succeed here tonight. So get out! Get out now!! I say GO!!! She walked around the room sprinkling the content of the bottle on some invisible person. Then she closed all the windows and doors and started singing again as she put the contents of the black bottle on the doors and windows. Next, she anointed the foreheads of every person in the house with blessed oil. “Now, we must stop these labor pains, “she poured the content of a blue bottle into a clay mug and handed it to Edna. “She got to drink all this.” Edna took the mug and fed the drink to Gloria, who was still crying out from her pains. Dora placed two lighted white candles on the floor on each side of the bed, and then she placed one lighted blue candle at the foot of the bed. Then she placed the pan of hot coals next to the candle, and burned the fresh herbs on them. The smoke perfumed the air as Dora sat up in front of the candle, singing, with her medicine basket next to her on the floor. She looked at Gloria on the bed, whose cries became a low moan, showing that the pain was subsiding. Edna was wiping her daughter’s forehead when a loud bang from someone, or something, hit the roof of the house. 6 Shanka ran into the bedroom, a look of horror on his face. Edna and Gloria clung to each other in terror. The sounds of scraping and scratching as if something with long claws was trying to scratch a hole through the galvanized roof. Gloria screamed again. Dora stood to her feet and intercepted Shanka as he rushed towards his wife. “You broke your contract with Cocoka, didn’t you? “Now she wants revenge!” Shanka looked with astonishment into the gray, piercing eyes of Mother Dora. He opened his mouth to confirm her statements, but no sound came from his lips. He only nodded his head as tears fell from his eyes. Gloria was now howling in pain. Dora rushed to her, took a necklace of multicolored stones from around her neck and placed them on Gloria. They stopped her screams instantly. Panting heavily and placing her hands on her belly, Gloria cried between breaths, “The child…., the child is coming!” Dora rushed to her basket and took out a red root. “Eat this!” Gloria ate the gnarled plant with haste. Dora placed her hands on the woman’s belly and said, “STOP!” “Stop Now! It is not yet time! Wait a little bit longer.” With these words, the pains stopped. Gloria looked at the woman whose hands had brought her and her two children into this world. “Thank you, Mother,” she whispered. The gentle woman smiled at her and wiped away her tears. “This child will not come before her time, nor will she die.” She smiled at Gloria reassuringly. Suddenly, screams came from the living room. “Stay here with her.” Dora said to Edna, as she and Shanka ran to find the two boys doubled in pain. “Go bring my basket.” Shanka rushed back to the bedroom as Dora Scooped his sons into her arms and held them to her. Shanka brought the basket and placed it before the woman on the floor. “You are a damn fool, Shanka!” He glared at her, not knowing how to respond. Her eyes blazed with anger. “You were a fool first of all to go to Cocoka, and even a bigger fool to sell her you’re first born, and for what?” “I was desperate,” he shouted. “She gave me the money I needed for my shop! I had to make a life for my family!” “Money, money! It’s always money!” she howled at him. “Give me that little black bag,” she pointed with her head and eyes to the basket. Shanka handed her the little black bag. 7 She set the boys on the floor in front of her. Then she made a circle around the man and his sons. “You stay here in this circle and do not move until I come back inside.” The boys stopped crying as they held onto their father. The scratching on the roof became louder and more intensified. Dora reached into her basket and took out three small black stones and spoke some words to them in pattwa. After this, she left the house, locking the door behind her. All around was still and heavy. She could feel the evil presence of Cocoka the Sukkunya, the witch of black magical arts. She held her body erect and walked a little way from the house. Standing straight and still, she turned and looked at the rooftop. In the light of the moon she saw her. It was Lilith! A horrible winged demon with sharp claws on her feet. She was scratching at the tin plates of the roof, moving in a circle, in a horrible rage. Dora opened her hand. One of the stones rose out of her hand and flew towards the demon. The stone turned into a blaze of fire as it flew through the dark. The horrible form was struck under her right wing and she let out a great screech. She turned and looked at Dora, only to see another fireball coming. The ball hit the demon square on the back as it tried to avoid the attack, it ripped off a piece of roofing, howling in agony. “You tell Cocoka that I have put my seal on this house and she must deal with me now.” The Last fireball struck the demon on the butt as it flew into the night, screaming. Shanka sat on the floor, sobbing over his sons. He looked up with a start as Mother Dora re-entered the house. “You are right, Mother,” he said, weeping and rocking his sons back and forth in his arms. “I am a fool I can’t believe I have done this horrible thing. What was I thinking of?” “Money!!! Snarled Dora. “You were so blinded by the idea of having your own shop and all the money it could bring you, that all Cocoka had to do was put the idea of what she wanted into your head and you were willing to give it. But, the witch didn’t count on me getting involved in all of this.” Mother Dora walked past him and went into the bedroom. Gloria just went off to sleep, just like that, once the screaming stopped outside. “What was that sound?” Edna asked, as she pulled the cover over her daughter’s still body. Dora did not answer. “I will go and put the boys to bed, if it is safe now.” Said Edna knowing not to push the issue. “Send Shanka in here,” Dora said sternly. 8 When the man stumbled into the room, Dora was gathering her things. “Look at her,” Dora said to him, as she pulled him to the bed. “She is a beautiful black woman and she loves you very much. Now you are basically a good man, Shanka, and you have a beautiful family. Now, because of your stupidity, you almost lost them all tonight. Just remember this, young man. If you ever do something his asinine ever again, believe me, you’re going to deal with it yourself.” Dora then sat with Gloria for a few hours to make sure she was alright. She then left Shanka’s house. She took four small stones from her basket, spoke to them and buried them in the ground at the four corners of the house. Then placing her basket on her head she set out down the path for home. The sky was purple in the east, and a few of the stars could still be seen in the west, as the dawn of a new day greeted the Valley. The air was cold and chill, and she pulled her black shawl around her as she walked briskly along the dirt road. She knew that her lifelong enemy, Cocoka, now had one more reason to hate her. Mother Dora would have to battle the evil Sukkunya again, and soon. The fragrant smell of her garden greeted her and the dew on the rose bushes lining the path to her house look like diamonds in the first dawn light. She smiles as she walks by them into her house. She will turn in now and rest in the beauty of her home, for in her heart, she knows, that soon she must face Cocoka and pay the reckoning for the broken contract. (WANT MORE OF THE STORY? WANT MORE OF “THE OBEAH WOMAN” BY ANASTASIA ARMOURER? BUY YOUR COPY NOW AT AMAZON! HARD COPY OR KINDLE!!) JUST CLICK THIS LINK: https://www.amazon.com/.../ref=cm_sw_r_fa_dp...

[murfeelee]

Yoru no Machi Pt2 - The Trade

CAPTIONS AS TEXT

- (Sakura) Are you suuuure we have the right address, Ryuu? This place looks deserted!

- (Ryuu) That's Pacifica for you. Our friend Mr. Lucky assured us that the Voodoo Boys have a hideout here. Let's see who's home.

- (Fantom) What business does a dragon and a fe have in Voodoo Boy territory? (Ryuu) We're here to see Papa Loi and Maman Caterina. That business is ours. (Fantom) I'm watching you, bèt.

- (Sakura) We'll meet up outside once we're done with the deal, Ryuu. (Ryuu) Remember what we're here for, Sakura. Don't get carried away. (Sakura) Back atcha!

- (Ryuu) Hello! Papa Loi, I presume? (Papa Loi) Ah, the lonbraj dragon. We get to analyze you, you get some of our secrets, correct? (Ryuu) Indeed.  

- (Papa Loi) First, we want a recording of your Dragon Shouts. Something strong enough to bend others to one's will. (Ryuu) Ah, voodoo boys and their zombie toys. Here’s an easy one: Gol hah!

- (Fantom) Now for the brainwave scan. (Ryuu) Will having draconian wards really protect your mainframe from cyber attacks? (Fantom) It will make it very difficult for NetWatch to hack. (Ryuu) Genius!

- (Ryuu) Now I want something of yours! (Papa Loi) As I am a necromancer, I can guess what.

- (Ryuu) That's right; I want cyberpsycho souls! (Papa Loi) I have plenty. Bon appetit!

- (Maman Caterina) Welcome. (Sakura) Hello, Caterina Loss, I'm Sakura! (Cat) I look forward to doing business with a fellow Downworlder. Now, how shall we hack Arasaka?...

MY THOUGHTS & CC CREDITS

MY THOUGHTS

Yes, Papa Loi is the Obeah Man from last year’s voodoo gameplay, and yes, Caterina Loss is the warlock from my Shadowhunters gameplay. (The fae (Seelie and Unseelie) are Downworlders, just like warlocks, vampires & werewolves. Sakura's one of the Unseelie.)

My world saves are colliding!

According to Google Translate,

Fantom: Haitian Creole for “ghost“

Dragon: Haitian Creole for “dragon”

Fe: Haitian Creole for “fairy”

Bèt: Haitian Creole for “beast”

Lonbraj dragon: Haitian Creole for “shadow dragon”

CC CREDITS

- Ryuu shades, pants from ITF

- Sakura hair by Paintstroke/IrKatty, outfit from SHT EP IIRC, leggings by JS-Sims3, boots by Artsims I think

- The rest of the CAS CC listed here

- A lot of CC coming soon!

[stereostevie]

‘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.”

“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.”

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.’”

“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.

“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.”

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.”

[atruelioness]

and ooh, it’s good to know...

i never thought i’d be writing this. i was going to leave it at 3 and done. i like 3. 3 is nice. 3 is neat. 3 is trinity. i figured that was all i would have to say anyway. that my confession would somehow lead to liberation and then would come love, then marriage, then baby carriage bc what else is marriage sex for?

anyway. 

soundtrack: amerie - just like me (on repeat).

“for somebody, somebody who’s just like me...”

i’m listening to old songs again to remember who i am. i used to be a woman so inside of herself that all she had to do was think and there it was. the truth.

now it seems like i have to search and surrender and sacrifice and scream from the mountaintops just for anything to be or feel or manifest itself as true. well, not anymore. i freed myself and broke chains all by myself or whatever beyonce and kendrick said as they were splashing barefoot through puddles.

i meant to password protect this. partially because i doubt you even read this. just like my IG stories. just like my book i sent you. just like everything i do that’s usually for a man’s ego and not his heart because naivety. mreeuh said stop using that word bc it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy but i say it because sometimes truth is the light you need to shine to dispel darkness.

plus i’m tired of hiding. my feelings. my heart. myself. man up and recognize a real one when you see her. or read her.

“somebody, somebody who feels like me.”

GOD WHAT IS THIS ALL FOR? i’m tired. i’m tired of loving with a heart with no sense of direction or GPS and making all the wrong turns that have me ending up exactly where i need to be each and every time like a pinned tweet.

can you be real without me fucking up first? can love be real without the frontin and denying and triangulation and abuse and emphasized and loved texts but never a text out of the blue (pun fucking intended and dismissed) to see how i am doing while i pray and basically ascend you and raise you as a king only for you to randomly and spontaneously sweat everyone but me so hard that they themselves have to question why you’re so obsessed with them. wyd?

like, no really, wassup with you? can i invoice you for all this wasted time because i could really use the money to get out of the situation i was never planning to get up out of in the first place. like, i get it. mans a huge fucking wasteman. huge bloodly bloodclaat pussyhole eediat. i get it get it or whatever drake said.

“that there’s somebody... there’s somebody, somebody who loves like me.”

but what was the point of being rescued only to wind up on the white horse by myself? i guess i could have rescued my damn self so i did but i keep giving credit where none is due. just like the logos i placed on that flier for no reason for people who would style me in a second, i built an entire throne in my heart and placed you on it just to get someone else off only to find that you never set it in anyway. you too busy being whoever the fuck you are when you’re not being the man of my dreams which seems to be any time spent outside of my own head which is why i wasn’t with the shits in the first place.

but hardhead. but hopeful romantic. but God. yeah yeah, ye ye ye. burn har like a burna boy song. do whatever makes your ego feel amazing because i guess all of m y love and and prayers and accolades and whatever the heaven i was doing was just me being a spiritual schoolas again and not a grown ass woman.

GOD NO REALLY WYD?

i’m ignoring every call and text and DM and email of my narcissistically abusive ex-lover for my possibly narcissistic crush to lead me on a long journey to nowhere. i say nowhere because how in the world could you get that close to love and decide you wanna subtweet her and the God she serves?

who are you and why did i ever think you were the One? what kinda illusion, what in the obeah, what kind of rice water did you dip your face in to come up with that one? who sent you so I can ship you right back to sender?

okay that was mean. but didn’t they tell you that i was a savage? didn’t your wife tell you that we could be heartless, regardless, of our conscience? women that is. i’m not upset or bitter so much as i am perplexed and disappointed.

do you know what i went through to trust you? i still have the worn out magazine. i still have a thousand blue items strung around my home. i still have this memory pressed inside of my head of how it felt to finally release that night to your music and how you felt like the only pure energy in the room. how i knew exactly what to do and where to sit even if i didn’t know what to say. how you were always where i could see you and how all of our favourite songs were playing. how i placed khanzi in your lap only to come out and find him in someone else’s. how many people have it twisted and still don’t get it.

“i’ve waited so long, for somebody who can do it like me.”

i don’t even wanna write about it anymore. i don’t want to spend another second on anything that isn’t real or God or love or all of the above.

i took it far enough to know i don’t need to take it any further. i went through this already. with so many others. didn’t i tell you? did i not recite jhene aikos stranger perfectly and wasn’t sparks will fly w. jcole about.... ? nah. no more.

never again. because next time i will be sure.

because i am a true lioness. because i don’t come easy. because i am a girl like this, in a world like this. because i’m a bbc queen, star.

what hapn to you?

i guess we’ll never know.  this is not me giving up, btw. this is me not giving in. to temptation. being delivered. not from evil, but still. amen. mentally and socially and culturally and verbally and spiritually preparing for africa. i said 2021 but jah9 said kenya 2020 and i’m like you know what, that could work. i just wanted to see vision 2020 come true for jamaica. i know i said forever, but 3 stacks said forever never feels that long until you’re grown.

and i’m a grown ass woman. again. there’s a song about this you’ll never listen to: xavier omar - grown woman. another xavier omar - blind man. and hours spent loving you (spzrkt).

“waited all my life, for somebody like... somebody who’s just like me.”

i mourn all the songs i’ll never get to play for you. i mourn all the locs i’ll never get to play in. i mourn khanzi and mocha’s play dates. i mourn those navy blue shorts and what i accidentally almost felt was in them and how for some reason in that moment i wasn’t shy whatsoever, and all the unspeakable things i did in the name of love and liberation.

by mourn i mean listen to r&b lol. by mourn i mean... damn, bruh. 

maybe next lifetime.

i’m not with ntn. just God alone.

still love you. but yeah, bless.

💙

[reesegetslost-blog]

Eat, Pray, Love...In China??

2018 was a rough year for me!

My final year in University began in Fall 2017 with a study abroad semester in Spain. Within the first few weeks of my study abroad my then boyfriend and I had broken up. Having previously gone through many breakups with him throughout the years, this was nothing new. That is to say, I was fine with everything, and I was in a really good place in my life.

Spain was a magical time and experience for me. I fell in love with the country. I fell in love with the fact that all my academics were in a foreign language that I knew well. And most of all I loved my beautiful and wonderful host families with their beautiful and wonderful children!

Gosh! I can’t wait to live there one day (because it’s gonna happen)!

After my long-time boyfriend and I broke up sometime after my birthday, I reminded myself that I was living in Madrid and should not let this rain cloud ruin such a wonderful life opportunity.

Therefore I rallied. I began using my time to focus on myself and continued to develop my language skills. Beautiful Spanish city, with beautiful Spaniards? There was nothing else to do but live my best life.

But I also used this time to focus on getting back to myself and learning how to be alone again. Exploring different parts of Madrid, making new friends and eating tortilla española with a good book on every terraza possible were how most of my days went. I got back to being the happy, care-free, stress-free me that I lost for a very long time.

I felt happy. And light.

And then….the bullshit.

I returned to my University campus in January of 2018. My school was a small, predominantly white liberal arts school in the middle of nowhere. As this was my last semester in school I just wanted to eat my fruits, drink my water, go to the gym, and mind my business!

But upon my return the happy and carefree me struggled with maintaining my happy. School work always provided a way for me to drown out the trash happening around me and just focus on concrete things. But, alas, it was my senior year so my course load was the lightest it had ever been. I couldn’t drown out the bullshit.

Upon my return I was immediately welcomed back with open arms from people I knew. They were quick to ask me about my time abroad and how great it was. Ya know. The usual talk. Then it quickly turned into questions about my relationship. Kinda went like this:

They: “So are you guys still together?”

Me: “Nah. Didn’t work out. Ya know. Shit happens.”

They: “Oh girl. Sorry to hear that but you’re better off.”

Me: “….I mean it wasn’t a bad split….why am I better off?”

They: “Well you know cause you deserve better. Especially after what happened over the summer.”

Me: “….Summer?”

They: “Oh you know last summer when he was here.”

Me: “….Over summer?”

*Just for clarification: Ex-bae was a year ahead of me so he graduated May 2017. So this refers to Summer 2017*

And it’s clear from this conversation that the proverbial tea was spilled. Cold tea for them. Scalding hot—burn your tongue cause ya drank it too fast—tea for me.

Here it was I was hearing so much SHIT (ALL THE SCANDALS! OK?) about him that all these people—people who loved chilling, and hanging out with me, who had the AUDACITY to call themselves my friends and smile up in my face!—knew whatever they knew for MONTHS (SHIIDD maybe even YEARS) and no one told me shit.

LOL Ain’t that some shit?

Anyway.

Needless to say that it was a very dark semester for me. Spiralling from shock. Confronting said ex-bae and still not getting any solid answers. (Sometimes ya just don’t need closure!) Not knowing whom to trust.

I cut a lot of people off that year! If you used to say Hello to that young man you were out!

Lol kidding… maybe…

ANYWAY!

The worst thing about it was that I saw myself turning into a person I did not like very much. There were months where everyday I would wake up in some combination of pissed off and sad. The light, care-free me from Spain was no where to be found. Which made me even more pissed off and sad because I was in a seriously good place before I went back to that Blackhole of a University. 

But like a worker bee, I had to keep moving forward. Grad school applications were either in progress or submitted so at least I had that to look forward to right? I would be onto a new future soon right?…….RIGHT?!

Haha…

I was the type of person who always had a plan. Then a back-up plan. Then a back-up to the back-up. And as a last resort an emergency or exit strategy. So grad school was always the #1 plan for me after graduation.

LOL So funny.

EVERY. SINGLE. SCHOOL. Rejected me. Except 1 program at this amazing school, but that was my Safety Programme. But in those weeks I saw my top plan drifting off in the wind, taking what little sanity I had with it. *eye twitch*

So onto The Back-up Plan right? Right. Grad school wasn’t an option for this year. So that presented an opportunity for me to go out there and get some work experience. As an international student with an F-1 visa I could apply for OPT and work in America for a year. Ok. Cool. That was the new plan. Great.

Haha. I spent MONTHS applying for every job out there. Undergoing multiple job interviews over these months. Passing many rounds. But never got a single job offer. Haha what a time.

Thus, when graduation approached I was happy to be leaving the Sinking Ship that was my University days. Honestly I wanted to run away. If you spoke to me in those days I would tell you that changing my name and moving to a foreign country where no one knows you is a form of self-care. I stand by that.

But I needed to get away from EVERYONE and EVERYTHING that I knew. With going back home to The Bahamas as my emergency/exit strategy, I wasn’t too happy with that plan. I wasn’t done with the world, although the world was showing me that it was done with me.

But before graduation came an interesting opportunity to teach English for a year in China. China rang bells in my head because it was literally so far from everyone I knew. This was going to be my new fresh start. I would know nobody and nothing. Not even Chinese, because I studied Spanish and Italian for the last 4 years.

Thus, having The Discussion with my family led to many blank stares and confusion on their part. My mother would come to me every few hours just to make sure.

Mum: “China?! What in China you wan see?”

Me: “I just need to go far for a bit…”

Mum: “But China? What about Spain? You did like Spain!”

Me: “Not far enough.”

Brother: “What you tryna run away from? Come tell ya brother. Cause I need to understand!”

Me: “ *laughing tryna hold back tears* Gee y’all. I am a world traveller! Why I can’t go to China?”

Mum: “Cause it so far! Who you know over there? He (Ex-bae) hurt you that bad that you wan go that far?”

Me: “Yes! Gee! Let me just run away in peace! Y’all lucky ine dropping off the planet! China is happening ok??!”

Brother: “…well make sure they don’t steal ya passport please…”

This exact conversation happened literally almost everyday over the summer months.

But I would not be deterred! This was my chance to get back to myself; to find myself once again. Cause this new, unfamiliar Reese was not working for me. This was my fresh start.

As my brother would put it: “You tryna be on ya Eat, Pray, Love tip aye?”

Basically yeah.

So this is some background on how/why this blog was created. Or how/why I ended up in China.

This blog is going to be about my new travel/life experiences, as I go about trying to get back to Me.

So cheers to getting lost!

XOXO

Lil Reesey

P.S. Whoever put Obeah on my 2018 or whoever playing with my voodoo doll…Can ya ease up and let me live for a bit? Thanks!