#set sometime around 2007-2009
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Saga of Solitude 9/21
Nepo!Baby Bradley and his life at USNA and afterwards. DADT fully in force. IceMav AU. (Begun prior to 'It's not who you know' - the non-angsty version). (Side Hangster, which is ALSO angsty).
PROLOGUE (He remembers)
HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights - set 2009)
PREVIOUS CHAPTERS
ONE (2000) TWO (2001) THREE (2002) FOUR (2003) FIVE (2004) SIX (2005) SEVEN (2006) EIGHT (2007)
CHAPTER NINE - 2008
He curls around the body in bed beside him, lets himself enjoy it, certain that the novelty will never wear off no matter how long they’re together. It probably helps that Maverick sometimes leaves for months at a time, so the little annoyances never make him lose his temper, rather remain little endearing traits that make him fondly smile instead of raging against him. Those times will come, he’s sure, but they’re probably a little while away given how stubborn Mav is. Right now they’ve got another week or so before Mav receives his new orders and Tom will soak up every available moment.
“Morning…”
“Morning.”
They move against each other quietly, slowly, both of them still half-asleep but happy to come to wakefulness like this, hands sliding over bare skin, lips leaving damp trails as they kiss and lick softly. Maverick’s hands pushing and pulling his pajama pants down, quiet curses under his breath that make Tom laugh silently. Mav is of course naked, his cock already rutting against Tom’s thigh and he skims a hand over the swell of his ass, encouraging him.
Neither of them have anywhere to be this morning, they have the luxury of time and also the knowledge that they won’t get interrupted. With them both in a bed and clearly wanting each other it’s a holy trifecta of sex now that they’re middle-aged adults with deployments and kids and levels or tiredness which often mean they might start off well meaning but can sometimes drift-off into slumber despite the best of intentions.
“What do you want?” Tom asks against the shell of Mav’s ear, because he will give him anything, and Mav knows it too, damn him.
“Want you to fuck my thighs.”
“You want me to do all the work,” Tom points out, but he’s quickly becoming more awake, it’s something he likes, and it’s not like there aren’t times when he gets to lie back and have Mav do all the work. They’ve been together for too long not to have figured out what works for them and what doesn’t.
“You’re the one who always gloats about being a morning person. Come on…”
He doesn’t need any encouragement, or in the case with Mav, goading. He bites down on his earlobe, grins around it when Mav jerks a little and presses Mav back into the bed so he can reach over him to grab the lube. Then he’s yelping as teeth catch one of his nipples and he glares down.
“Be nice.”
“Or what?”
“Or I won’t be nice…”
“That a promise or a threat?”
“I can make it both.”
“Oh…” Maverick’s breath catches and Tom smiles to himself.
Yeah, it’s going to be a very good morning.
… … …
Pete runs his finger over the empty space on Ice’s left ring finger, wonders if anyone would notice if they both started wearing wedding rings again. They could, they’ve both been married, even if technically he’s a widower and Ice is a divorcee. It would raise too many questions, if anyone noticed and asked. Still. One day though he fully intends to put a ring back on that finger as well as his own and never let it come off.
… … …
He’s in his office when he hears the commotion outside, Aubrey’s raised voice and… Maverick’s.
Shit.
He should have pre-empted this, knows Mav is starting to get itchy feet, he usually does after four weeks of leave. And it’s been six, so he is mellowing a little as he ages, but still, Tom could have planned better. He strides to the door and pulls it open, only to find Aubrey standing there, hands on her hips, Maverick looking just as combative and he looks between them calmly. They’re both looking at him, clearly wanting him to either pick a side or mediate a solution. He’s just not quite sure what they’re arguing about, the door too thick for him to have been able to make anything out so he decides that maybe introductions are in order.
“Aubrey, this is Captain Pete Mitchell. My best friend and also Bradley’s adoptive father.”
“Oh.”
“Maverick, this is my personal assistant, Aubrey Smythe.”
He can see her warring with herself, trying to decide whether to be polite, and Maverick also calming down as he realizes who she is.
“You ensure he eats lunch. Bradley told me.”
“Yes. I do try and ensure that happens.”
“Hmm. Keep trying. He’s stubborn.”
“That’s rich coming from you!”
The grin Maverick gives him makes his breath catch, god damn is Maverick beautiful and he hopes Aubrey isn’t quite as astute as he thinks she is. Or that she at least might not care and will keep whatever suspicions she might have after seeing him and Mav together firmly to herself.
“I’ll make sure he eats today. Although I leave on Tuesday, so it’ll be all down to you from then on,” Mav says, clearly trying to be charming and Aubrey just as clearly isn’t quite sure how to deal with him. She doesn’t offer to make Mav a drink and he guesses that’s her way of saying she’s annoyed. Tom just smiles to himself and excuses them, shaking his head but agreeing with Mav when he mutters something about her not liking him.
“A lot of people don’t like you. And I’m sure Aubrey will come around. Next time ask to see me, rather than demand it. Or, and I know this is a foreign concept, arrange to have lunch with me in advance so I can put it in my calendar.”
“You’re right, it is a foreign concept. But I’m here to talk about this,” Mav says, pulling papers from his jacket pocket. Tom wonders briefly if Pete would have had a better impression on Aubrey if he’d been in uniform rather than his civvies, bomber jacket and all. “I’m getting deployed to Bradley’s squadron. Did you organize this?”
His head shoots up.
“What? No.”
“Oh. Huh.”
“You thought I’d pulled strings?”
“Well, you know I miss him.”
“I do know that,” Tom says carefully. “I also know that he’s a fully grown adult and does not need you peering over his shoulder. It never occurred to me that you should be deployed together. They generally… don’t do that. For obvious reasons.”
“Stupid reasons.”
Tom sighs, because part of him agrees. The bonds that form between squadron members are usually very tight, and he knows from experience that some will take risks regardless. Just because someone loves someone doesn’t mean they will take more risks to keep them safe. The idea of Maverick flying with Bradley makes him excited for them, knowing that they’re both good, but also he worries that they’ll both take unnecessary risks to ensure the other is safe.
“You need to trust him to keep himself safe.”
“Of course.”
… … …
He hears the rumors over breakfast, his cup of coffee halfway to his mouth when he hears Maverick mentioned, almost-whispered, and his stomach sinks. His first and most immediate thought is that something has happened. But no, instead of somber looks there’s an air of anticipation and he leans over and asks what they’re talking about, shuffles a little so he’s facing them.
“What about Maverick?”
“Apparently he –”
“Wait, isn’t he…”
“What?”
“Adams heard that Maverick is part of the squadron arriving today.”
“What?”
“Three air-to-air kills. Man’s a legend.”
“Isn’t he your…”
“My what?” Bradley asks.
“Your dad?”
That makes everyone around him go silent, and of course it’s the Navy, so even much guarded secrets are fucking known by everyone. He grins and shrugs, because yeah, Mav is his dad for all intents and purposes for those looking in from the outside. And his phone call last year when Mav had been in Bagram, or the fact that Mav had been there when he graduated USNA and then flight school all add to the fact the it’s not even really something he tries to keep now.
“Yeah. Step-dad. He married my mom after my dad passed away but I’ve known him my whole life. He flew with my dad.”
“Wait. He married his wingman’s wife?”
“Uh, my dad was his RIO. And it’s not like my dad was around to care, there was time between my dad dying and then Mav marrying my mom…”
The expression on some of their faces makes him roll his eyes. He can’t go into details about exactly what kind of marriage it was, not that it’s any of their business. Anyway, he’s got more exciting things to think about.
Holy shit, he’s going to fly with Mav.
… … …
It’s weird, he’s not sure how to act for the first few minutes and then relaxes, falls into the habit of years of training has drilled into him. Of course, it’s all ruined when Maverick fucking winks at him and he rolls his eyes. Unfortunately his CO has catches the eyeroll and is now frowning at him and Bradley feels an uneasy twist in his stomach.
“Lieutenant Bradshaw. A word please.”
“Yes sir.”
He steps to the side, can feel eyes on him, including Mav’s.
“Do you have a problem with Captain Mitchell?”
“No sir?”
“That sounded like a question Lieutenant.”
“Sir. Can I ask a question sir?”
“Go ahead Lieutenant.”
“Are you aware that Captain Mitchell is my step-father sir?”
It’s immediately obvious that his CO is somehow completely in the dark about his relationship to Maverick, so maybe the Navy grapevine isn’t as good as he thought.
“I rolled my eyes at him because he winked at me sir. Because he’s Maverick Mitchell.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry this is a surprise to you sir. I only found out this morning myself.”
“Are you going to have a problem serving with him?”
“Sir, he’s my superior officer when he’s in uniform. Not my father. Surely this isn’t the first case of parents and children serving together?”
His CO opens his mouth and then closes it again, clearly doesn’t know the answer. He does however seem to accept Bradley’s words at face value and nods sharply.
“Well… it might be a little odd. But please bring any concerns to me directly. Your father doesn’t outrank me.”
“Of course not sir,” Bradley says, thinking about Ice and also the fact that if anything it’s going to be him trying to keep Mav in line.
… … …
After seeing Bradley get called out for the eyeroll Pete ensures he’s on his best behavior. The last thing he wants is to have Bradley tarred with his reputation, he knows how difficult that is and he understands more now why Bradley had wanted to distance himself while he was at USNA. He can make his own way. He flies perfectly, they both do. Nothing happens that even needs a slight modicum of risk and he doesn’t even do a tower fly-by. Ice would be proud. Of course, on the carrier is a different story and he pranks Bradley mercilessly, along with the others in both squadrons. Only Bradley is brave enough to prank him back, his rank likely a barrier but it’s the most fun he’s had on a carrier since he was younger than Bradley and it reminds him of why he’s still in the Navy. This feeling and the fact he gets to be paid to fly.
… … …
“We have a guest, he’s requested to eat meals with some of the Fighting Redcocks. You specifically Bradshaw,” his CO states after he’s pulled him aside, and Bradley is glad that Mav has been on his best behavior and that everything has gone smoothly.
“Of course sir. May I ask who it is?”
“Rear Admiral Kazansky. Not another family member I hope?”
Bradley freezes and his CO is not a stupid man, has definitely clocked Bradley’s moment of sheer panic. He hasn’t had to deal with questions like this since his days at USNA, and never from a superior officer.
“I… yes sir. I lived with him and his wife when Maverick was deployed. He’s like an uncle to me.”
“Oh. Of course he is. Does everyone know?”
“No sir. I try and keep my family ties to myself. It’s… generally easier this way sir.”
“Hmm. Smart of you I guess. He and Maverick must be very proud of you. You’re a damn fine aviator.”
“I try sir. They’re always pushing me to be better.”
“I just bet they are. Actually Lieutenant, knowing your tie to Admiral Kazansky is something of a relief. It means he’s here to see you, and not me or my ship. Just a social visit.”
“Well sir, I don’t know if Ice ever stops working. He’s nothing if not efficient.”
“You have a good point. But maybe don’t call Admiral Kazansky by his callsign if you’re trying to keep your relationship with him quiet, hmm?”
“Yes sir. Thank you, sir.”
… … …
“Admiral Kazansky. Nice to see you.”
“Captain Mitchell. I haven’t heard any complaints about you, you must be on your best behavior.”
“I always am sir.”
Bradley blinks, feeling a little weirded out by their completely polite and professional conversation, even if Mav is smirking about being on his best behavior. They’re clearly friendly, but they haven’t touched, or even shaken hands. Hell, Maverick gave him a salute when he’d arrived. Of course, so had Bradley, but… Of course. They’re not overly affectionate with each other at home either and this right here drives it home to him why. This is how they can be together while also serving in the Navy. No one knows. No one even suspects because they’re both hiding it. Even maybe hiding it from each other he thinks. Have hidden it with marriages and hidden it from him until he was older.
Fuck he wishes things were different for them.
… … …
“What are you really doing here?”
“Catching up with an old friend.”
“Really?”
“Aubrey suggested it. Well. She arranged the entire thing and then presented it to me as a fait accompli so I didn’t actually have much choice. Apparently I was becoming insufferable.”
“Knew I liked that woman,” Mav murmurs under his breath and Tom raises an eyebrow, because he’s pretty sure Mav wants to like her, but she’s damned good at acting as gatekeeper for his time, had stopped Maverick from barging in twice in just the last week before he’d left.
“She is worth every penny the Navy is paying her, and then worth twice as much again.”
“I’d be jealous, except I know I couldn’t do her job.”
“We all have our own strengths. It feels good being out here…”
“Yeah? Sea breeze in your hair?”
“Mmm. I miss it some days. Like breathing…”
“You want to go up? I’ll take you up.”
“If I go, up I’ll be flying myself thank you.”
“Yeah? You thinking about it?”
“No. Not right now…” Tom says, but an idea is formulating in his mind, wondering what it would take to make it happen. He definitely wants to fly with Mav again though. He’ll make it happen.
… … …
He reads the news and blinks. Gay marriage has been legalized in Connecticut. It doesn’t mean anything of course, neither of them will risk their careers but it also gives him a little flare of hope that the world is changing.
… … …
“Look… have you considered you’re not exactly impartial?” Ron asks over the rim of his glass and Tom scowls.
“I know I’m not impartial. That’s kind of the whole point.”
“Well. Yes and no. I think you’re over-correcting, over compensating so no-one will accuse you of playing favorites, of Bradley, or of nepotism.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Take the name off all these files. Look at them based on pure merit, remove your emotion and then rank them.”
“What would that prove?”
“That you’re being too hard on your own kid. Holding him up to what you or Mav are capable of and forgetting you’ve both got decades of experience on him. You need to compare him with his peers, not with you, or your peers. Give him another decade and then you can start doing that.”
Tom stares at the pieces of paper in front of him and realizes the truth, that Bradley is indeed already accomplished for his age and rank. The amount he’s been pushing hasn’t been necessary at all, Bradley has already been exceeding expectations in every field. He’s yet to turn down any training opportunity, is sought after because his attitude is good and his team-player approach helps struggling squadrons bond. He’s got all the people skills both his parents had in spades.
Shit. Him and Mav are both guilty of this.
“Mmm… I like this.”
“What? The whiskey?”
“No. The look on your face when you realize I’m right.”
AUTHOR'S NOTE
After this there will be 2009, but also a stand-alone (already completed 4-part Hangster fic) HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights - set 2009) which happens pretty much in September 2009, so Saga of Solitude Chapter 10 covers the time before and after.
CHAPTER TEN
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ok, in light of casey and vale’s reunion at the ranch. what are your top 5 or maybe 10 motogp feud developments of the year? could be something like casevale link up or someone saying something insane or it could be some insane fact that you’ve uncovered this year which changed/added to your perception of some rivalry?
excellent ask. obviously I got sent this around the time of the actual ranch visit and prevaricated on answering it, partly because one of my personal top three feud related revelations had not as yet been posted. now it HAS been posted - and while there's other as-yet-unposted material that would probably make this list, I'll have a crack at it with what we've got lol. also, this isn't a particularly balanced list... because obviously 'stuff I've found out this year' is a pretty big caveat. I haven't found out that much stuff this year! generally it's been to do with sete/valentino tbh, and most of it is stuff I've been sent by other people. I've been slacking on doing my own feud research. so as much as I'd like to sneak in a dovi/jorge cameo or whatever, unfortunately there's quite a few feuds where we are currently in a bit of a stagnation period... no real advances in the field I'm afraid. I've decided to go for the nice and round number of six items as nobody's attention will last that long anyway. no need to overdo things
6. casey mentioning valentino's qatar 2007 head rub three times in his autobiography: okay, look, there's a slightly irritating element to this discovery in that... y'know. I could've figured this one out YEARS ago because it literally just relies on reading casey's autobiography closely enough. which you'd think I would have done by now. the process by which I cobbled this one together has been documented here, and now we obviously also have a lovely gif of the moment itself at our disposal. just to refresh everyone's memory, even the bloody photo itself made it to the autobiography:
I love this! casey's so deeply weird about valentino and he's so repressed about it and he lets it slip in such funny ways. such a short moment for it to live so incredibly rent free in casey's mind. as always, it is important to note that casey is not giving an accurate recollection of events. I have little way of knowing whether valentino was still friendly to casey away from the track - but I can use casey's own metric of direct post-race interactions and tell you categorically that valentino continues to warmly congratulate casey after early 2007. there's this fun little technique I use to assess casey's claims called 'the power of my own eyes'
mugello 2009 first time vale lost his home race in a bajillion years and this is how he acts with casey on the podium... let's start a conversation
the underlying reasons for why casey takes such liberties in narrativising the rivalry have been previously discussed in much depth in this parish - and as ever it is fun and neat to note how casey's narrative has become accepted because he has taken advantage of a prevalent narrative about valentino and his affinity for feuding. old tricks used against the teacher!! mainly, though, this kind of thing is a fun little reminder of how rewarding it is to do a lot of reading between the lines where casey is concerned. he does let a lot slip, if you know where to look
5. jerez 2024, the weekend experience: I was thinking about putting something related to the pecco/marc set-up for next year in this post but quite honestly I am increasingly pessimistic about how that will unfold. like,, I do think there's plenty of stuff there and that in this kind of scenario any two of prime jorge, casey and valentino would start stabbing each other, any two of prime jorge and valentino could get something going with pecco, and marc would start a war with any of those three. but I'm just not convinced about this specific combination... and sometimes it's a good idea to set your expectations low. so unfortunately we continue to have to rely on old feuds to keep us fed, which means that valentino's link to pecco somehow remains the most surefire source of narrative tension. I don't particularly like this state of affairs and maybe somebody below the age of 35 should start pulling their weight, but it is what it is. sometimes you just have to contend yourself with archival research. anyway, I really enjoyed jerez!! it was fun having valentino there for all that stuff, the marc/pecco duel was only second to jorge/pecco sepang in terms of on-track thrills, plus repeatedly cutting back on marc does kinda feel like #heritage at this point. grateful that bez moved his ass once this season to get valentino to parc fermé
but above all I really enjoyed that valentino description of marc - how marc attempts to show his superiority over his opponent and that 'when he sees that you are less strong or are already bleeding, he bites harder'. that's lovely stuff. obviously valentino is correct in his assessment of marc... but what makes the whole thing more fun and dramatically juicy is that especially that second part is even more true of valentino himself. valentino sniffing out weakness is basically his entire MO as a rider, including in very practical terms how he likes to study and put pressure on his opponents during races. he's also someone who's always liked to attack from a position of strength - you see this most obviously in the 2008-09 period and it is something jorge himself acknowledges quite explicitly in his biography. idk, something about seeing a little bit of yourself in your enemy... and yeah, 'biting your rival harder when they are already bleeding' is just such a poetic little phrase that I've made heavy use of it since then. old man's still got it
4. what hrc was told at qatar 2004: this is another one of those slightly annoying ones where I suppose I theoretically could have found this out years before I did, but. having finally had the chance to watch the footage from that route 46 route 93 documentary and the bits about sete, twas very much worthwhile. I really enjoyed what valentino said, just a nicely rich text especially given the scarcity of comments he's made since 2004 - but I was particularly interested in the testimony from juan martinez, sete's crew chief. both of which are discussed in some depth here. as far as I can tell, martinez did quite literally say him and sete talked to hrc about the little grid rubber trick valentino's team pulled, which?? he claims it's for 'safety reasons' to try and convince them everybody needed the track cleaned - which is all well and good, but you don't need to be a witch to guess what hrc was going to do with that information
this testimony plus a few more details I've unearthed but haven't posted - primarily relating to the actions of fausto gresini and other honda bigwigs that day - make me increasingly convinced that valentino did have a legitimate grievance at qatar. including directed towards sete. obviously, the manner in which he responded to said grievance was still completely mental... but idk, I'd always had a sneaking suspicion that there had to be something to valentino's accusation. which makes sete's arc throughout that 2004 season and especially from qatar to sepang even more interesting!! I do think he wasn't being entirely honest in that sepang presser, but I also think he panicked a bit for fairly understandable reasons. idk obviously this is just such a fascinating few weeks for everyone involved, so I'm thrilled how I've found out so much more about that time period in such a short amount of time. again, mostly not off the back of my own research!! but I am grateful for what I have been allowed to Divine
3. valentino's podcast adventures: I still haven't talked properly about what valentino said about jorge but I will and I should, because those bits are all pretty enjoyable and fit into the rivalry write-up I did earlier this year. also, the casey stuff was excellent!! more of the valentino ambition vs casey talent theme, plus just some fun descriptions of laguna 2008 I will absolutely integrate into my long post about that race. nothing NEW exactly, but it's always nice having someone confirm your working. and the marc stuff was really fun!! obviously I was particularly keen on the alzamora stuff because I've always felt like there had to be more to his role. the argentina 2015 stuff is just really interesting in relation to what jorge has said (perhaps reflecting paddock gossip at the time question mark) that marc felt valentino deliberately made him crash, so you get into this excellent mutual j'accuse situation. and assen!! obviously valentino's description of marc's attitude isn't particularly novel since it does chime with what we have actual footage of in the presser, but the idea of a private lil confrontation is so much fun. especially paired with marc saying at sachsenring he felt assen was his best race of the season!! 2015 is one of the best puzzle box seasons to try and unravel what 'really happened' and why - and we really haven't gotten new details from one of the two blokes involved that often over the years. always appreciate some additional insight
and obviously the best bit - zero mention of sete. friendships, rivalries, even feuds can fade... curses last forever
2. the 'ciao sete' shirt valentino wore in 2004: which has now been posted here, god bless. this has been living rent free in my mind for weeks at this point, not a day has passed where I haven't thought about it. it has singlehandedly made motogp-blogging on this website worth it because I doubt I would have ever discovered it myself. I love this so so dearly. look at this absolute cunt
a third t-shirt has hit late 2004 feuding towers
first of all, that's a dyke aunt. that is a mother. some deep concentrated evil lesbian energy. I'm not straight but he can get it. second of all, what the FUCK is wrong with you. the best part is that this has been sent to me along with a steady diet of extra details confirming they were like. properly properly friends before all this shit went down, which makes every additional feud-related revelation particularly wild. they were close!! it's so brutal, it's so malicious, it is INCREDIBLY funny and I laugh every time I see those photos. I love the playful edge, the double meaning of 'bye thirst', that marriage of joy and cruelty that is so quintessential to the arc he goes on that year. just having a laff... one dead, dozens injured. I feel like I increasingly have a handle on why valentino went SO far with sete and what it was specifically about losing to sete that drove valentino nuts, which does also leave me with rather a lot of sympathy for poor sete in all this. endless ritual humiliation is one hell of a punishment for your former friend to inflict. that being said, unfortunately it is also hilarious. ah well
1. CASEY VISITED VALENTINO AT THE RANCH: casey!! visited!! valentino!! at!! the!! ranch!! CASEY VISITED VALENTINO AT THE RANCH. out of NOWHERE too, just suddenly opened tumblr to a bunch of asks and messages on a random sunday evening. I'd previously expressed myself sceptical on the vale/casey dinner front, feeling rather safe and secure in the knowledge they had not done so in the twelve years since casey's retirement. which, y'know. fantastic timing, lads. but I still think my reasoning mostly holds up - obviously, this was a more casual 'valentino harassing casey into sticking around' affair and not quite the soul-searching soul-baring exercise in exorcisms casey might be looking for. and idk, just vindicating of my general read of that relationship. casey's feelings towards valentino are extremely complicated - this weird cocktail of how he feels about valentino as a person and then valentino the character and also valentino the literal embodiment of the sport. valentino doesn't hate casey... and crucially, he also does not seem to particularly mind casey's bi-yearly habit of talking shit about valentino. I mean, come on, SOME of that stuff must get back to valentino. I'm consistent in my stance that - while casey obviously has plenty of legitimate grievances - I do also think valentino could reasonably take issue with some of the ways casey has characterised valentino and their rivalry. if valentino has his complaints, he's clearly not about to share with the class - and there's really not any bitterness whatsoever in how he's talked about casey these last few years. he's content to pass the reigns to casey in narrativising their rivalry to the public. pretty interesting, no?
idk, I like how true the entire ranch visit felt to their dynamic... valentino might have done what he needed to do to beat casey, but there was never any real personal animosity on his end - at most their intense bickering during 2010-12, but even there it was never that serious to valentino. and now, that's all done with as far as he's concerned... the door is open, if casey wants it to be. and casey, always just a bit more cautious and wary and far more conflicted, who clearly still has all these grievances relating to valentino he needs to share with the world... but when they're actually face-to-face, those have always had a habit of falling away. valentino in all his boundless enthusiasm and sincere belief that casey is as good a rider as they come, dragging around his erstwhile rival to proudly show him around his precious home. and casey, who once idolised valentino and perhaps even wished they could have been friends, allowing himself to be dragged along. it was sweet... it warmed my cold dead heart. I liked it. and I am going to laugh very hard indeed when casey gives his next interview discussing how valentino taught him about the horrors of the human condition
#most of my sete scholarship is happening in messages at the minute but that could easily fill up a top ten list#found a clip of an interview of him post qatar 2004!!#just so much fun to actually be able to watch him lol. his perpetual :D paired with how clearly obviously beyond furious he is#also yeah he did curse sete. don't have a clip of THAT but enough quotes of him talking about it#which i did post about but only in a longer essay so. nothing i can easily link to for the purposes of this list#//#brr brr#batsplat responds#idol tag#current tag#heretic tag#curse tag#i need to give somebody dovi/jorge brainworms so they can do some extensive research#feel free to send in your application
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Tag Game: Top 10 Albums
I love tag games, but I'm always hesitant to start my own. (Which doesn't really make sense, 'cause, I mean, they gotta start somewhere, right? 😂) So I decided to start one!
Anyway, I've seen a ton of these going around about music, and I was thinking, we've all got our favorite songs, but it's a rare and beautiful thing to find an entire album where you can vibe with every (or almost every) track. With that in mind...
Rules: List your top 10 favorite albums, and (if you want) include a brief description for why each one made it onto the list. Then, tag 10 (or however many you want, really) others to do the same.
Tagging: @merge-conflict, @fereldanwench, @halliserres, @milkywayes, @illusivesoul, @ghostoffuturespast, @luvwich, @kirschewine, @mirandaputsherbestbuttforward, and @andrewknightley.
My 10 Ten Albums
#1 Coral Fang (2003) - The Distillers
Reasons: Every few years, I rediscover this album and remember that it's my favorite album of all time. Brody Dalle's voice is harsh, deep, raspy, melodious, and emotional. The instrumentals are high octane and immersive. This album is a beating heart to me. It's feral.
#2 Fantastic Planet (1996) - Failure
Reasons: Failure's my favorite band of all time. My favorite album from them is Fantastic Planet. It's industrial, grunge, and shoegaze all in one package. With a sci-fi theme to boot, and a otherworldly soundscape. This band is extremely underrated. They really should be up there with the other greats of the 90s.
#3 Bleed Out (2022) - The Mountain Goats
Reasons: I think this is the newest album on my list, which is kinda funny. John Darnielle is my favorite songwriter of all time. His lyrics are deeply wonderful and quirky and disturbing. It's hard to pick a favorite album by The Mountain Goats, but the dark, violent, and insightful film noir theme of this one really does it for me.
#4 Light Me Up (2010) - The Pretty Reckless
Reasons: I haven't listened to this one in a bit, but it's mostly just because I've heard it about a billion times since I was 15. It's an iconic part of my teenage years. Taylor Momsen is literally my favorite vocalist of all time. Her voice never fails to impress me.
#5 With Teeth (2005) - Nine Inch Nails
Reason: It was hard to pick my preferred NIN album because I've never heard a song by them that didn't instantly rewire my brain and become my new favorite song. Actually, it was a toss up between this and Year Zero. If you asked me a different day, I might pick Year Zero. But I think this one has more songs that are top NIN songs for me. It's nearly a toss up though.
#6 Live it Out (2005) - Metric
Reasons: This is one of Metric's older albums, back when they had a more garage rock sound, although they still went pretty heavy on the electronic elements and they had the same dystopian sci-fi themes they do today. I prefer it to their newer stuff mostly just because of the heavier sound.
#7 Live (Secrets of the Lost Satellite Tour, Spring 2007) - Ken Andrews
Reasons: Ken Andrews is the lead singer of Failure, my favorite band. This does have some of the same songs that are on Fantastic Planet, but it also has some of Ken's solo work. It's a very atmospheric and dreamy album, and the fact that it's live and you can hear the crowd sometimes and the way he talks to them adds to that.
#8 So You've Ruined Your Life (2003) - Get Set Go
Reasons: This is Get Set Go's first album, and it's always been my favorite, even though I love Mike's newer stuff too. He's not as pop punk as he used to be, which is why I prefer it, but his outrageous and obscene lyrics are exactly what they used to be. This is the same guy who wrote a song about wanting to have sex with dinosaurs. A very explicit song about wanting to have sex with dinosaurs. He's ridiculous.
#9 Brand New Eyes (2009) - Paramore
Reasons: Some people would probably say I'm a fake Paramore fan, because I don't really care for any of their new stuff. It's not bad or anything, it just doesn't appeal to me on the same level that their first three albums do. I do love Riot! for its extreme energy and emotional highs of anger and joy, but Brand New Eyes is better for me thematically. I love the lyrics about growth and change and independence.
#10 xx (2009) - the xx
Reasons: I don't think I've ever heard duets better than what Romy and Oliver can do. The way the lyrics overlap, the way they finish each other's words. They do things with the concept of a duet that other groups just don't. The soundscape is very lowkey and chill and almost kinda highbrow in a weird way. Like, I feel like this is the kind of music that professional musicians list as their favorite music, if that makes sense.
#spotify#tag games#music#hope you all enjoy this if you decide to participate!#no pressure to anyone tagged ofc
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Since you're interested in my timeline I decided to share it °3°
Keep in mind that this is a mix of what was stated in the show, and my own personal interpretation/headcannons:
Total Drama Island: July 8th, 2007 - August 31st, 2007
(July 8th, 2007 being the irl date the show was created, and the end date being August 31st has to do with Chris at some point saying the competition will last 8 weeks)
Total Drama Action: September 2nd, 2007 - October 13th, 2007
(Action takes place two days after Island ends, and was mentioned that it lasted 6 weeks)
Total Drama World Tour: February 3rd, 2008- April 3rd, 2008
(This one was a complete bitch to figure out. I had to do my best to calculate the full flight time which was around 9 Days, 4 Hours 50 Minutes, then I had to squeeze in the challenge time which I'm pretty sure I just guessed. I kinda went backwards, since World Tour ends sometime around Cody's birthday which is April 1st)
Total Drama Revenge of the Island: July 5th, 2008 - August 17th, 2008
(based on the premise that challenges happen every three days which I'm pretty sure was mentioned in island at some point but I kinda don't remember or care. Set in the summer closer to Island's original release date)
Total Drama All-Stars: August 22nd, 2009 - October 2nd, 2009
(Same as Revenge. A little over a year later bc with Alejandro being in that robot suit before Revenge, and Chris being arrested after Revenge, yet both saying they were imprisoned for a year, I'm gonna say that the guy trapped in a robot suit didn't have a good perception of time)
Total Drama Pahkitew Island: October 20th, 2009 - December 1st, 2009
(noting really special here tbh, though I remember I made Pahkitew right after All-Stars to make sure the character birthdays stay consistent. They're not official birthdays btw)
The Ridonculous Race: July 11th, 2010 - July 24th, 2010
(Similar with World Tour in that I had to figure out the travel time, 4 Days, 14 Hours, 30 Minutes, and squeeze the challenges in. I set it after July so Geoff, Owen and Noah could still be 19 and Leonard could still be 16)
Total Drama Reloaded: July 10th, 2022 - August 22nd, 2022
(based on literally nothing and will probably change soon. Like I said it could either be in 2022 or 2024. Hopefully something gets dropped next season that'll hint at a specific date or something)
Anyway that's it bye
Holy shit that is an astounding amount of work to figure out the exact dates of every season, props to you I could never!
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If someone you knew wanted to start reading Damian wayne where would you recommend for them to start? 🎤🎤
FIRST!!! you NEED to read batman: son of the demon (1987). this will give you the understanding you need of bruce, talia, their relationship, and also ra's. the fact it hasn't been canon since the 90s doesn't matter because it's still the best book about bruce and the ghul family you will ever read.
then... you may cautiously proceed to batman #656 (2006), while keeping in mind that talia is so wildly ooc that it makes me want to pluck my own eyeballs out of my skull. keep reading until #658, then you can stop because damian disappears for a while after that.
you can read batman #666 if you want to (it's set in an alternate future universe), but damian is bald in it. :( you should probably read it anyway though lol.
next, go on to batman annual #26 (2007). this is the start of the resurrection of ra's al ghul--the arc is good and all, but ra's is so unbelievably ooc that i again want to pluck out my own eyeballs. damian is adorable in it, though, so do read it. but he talks a lot more casually than he's supposed to, that's all you need to keep in mind. (at this point in his character development, he's still the epitome of "spoiled prince," and talks exactly how you'd expect a spoiled prince to talk.)
go through the rest of the resurrection of ra's al ghul after that -- robin annual #7, batman #670, robin #168, nightwing #138, detective comics #838, batman #671, robin #169, nightwing #139, detective comics #839. (please note that the nightwing issues specifically write damian the best, in my opinion. fabian nicieza is one of my FAVORITE damian writers! you know, besides morrison, since morrison created him and all. paul dini is also a huge favorite of mine btw.)
after that, you can go ahead and read batman #675, #680, and #681 (2008).
skip battle for the cowl because you won't really get anything good from reading that lol. long story short: everybody fights for no reason and dick becomes batman and damian becomes robin.
move onto batman and robin #1 (2009). just read it all of it! (the new earth universe finishes at #26 i believe, then new 52 starts.) it's all really good. i also recommend reading all of red robin (2009) and batgirl (2009), damian doesn't show up in every issue but he shows up quite a lot, and regardless, they're just really good books!
you also need to read batman: streets of gotham (2009). again, read all of it, INCLUDING the manhunter specials at the back of the book! damian shows up in those sometimes. :)
also... batman annual #27 (2009) and the other half of its story in detective comics annual #11 (2009).
then, read batman: li'l gotham for some fun fluff. :)
another must-read is supergirl #61 - #64 (2011).
also, teen titans #89 (2011). just read from #89 - #92, then come back around #99 - #100 for maximum damian. it's a pretty good series regardless though.
(one more thing: batman #700 and #703.)
as for new 52, you can keep reading the batman and robin series. but even more importantly, i think you should check out batman: the dark knight (2012) #10 - #15. it's one of my absolute favorite stories between bruce and damian.
besides that, i haven't read a lot of new52 comics, even though i should... or much at all beyond new52, either... but i did read super sons, and i can highly recommend that whole series!
gotham academy #6 and #7 are also super cute new52, sort of AU stories, damian features in those issues and he's adorable and well-written, if you ask me.
so that's where i'd tell you to start! there's way more that even i still need to read, but i'm so bitter about new52 and rebirth in general that it takes me a while to even want to pick up a book from the modern era.
edit: while you could read the batman/tmnt comics featuring damian, i actually recommend just watching the movie they made based on those comics. it's REALLY good.
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What are your opinions on the Funimation VO changes starting with Kai and into Super? I just can’t get used to Bulma
I missed a lot of these changes, since I didn't pay much attention to Kai, and I had to watch the subbed version of Super because it was all we had while it was coming out.
Bulma was the big change, since that happened around the time they released Curse of the Blood Rubies on DVD in 2011, and I think that was when it hit me that Monica Rial wasn't just a Kai-only deal. They weren't going to bring Tiffany Vollmer back for other stuff.
A lot of the voices changed in the Raging Blast games too. I think they had a whole other guy doing Cell, for example. So I thought Dameon Clarke left the cast for some reason, but then he was back in the Xenoverse games. I think sometimes it just comes down to who's available.
And sometimes there's just no choice. I'm not sure when Brice Armstrong stopped voice acting, but his last role on Wikipedia was from 2009, when he was about 73 years old, so I assume he just retired. Since then, he passed away in 2020, and then Chris Ayres in 2021, which means they'll need to cast a new voice for Frieza the next time he gets a speaking role.
I mean, there's a lot of other cast changes we could debate or speculate about. Vic Mignogna will probably never appear in another Funimation production ever again. Even if his scandals hadn't caught up to him, he made sure to burn his bridges when he sued Funi in that defamation lawsuit. I don't think Stephanie Nadolny or Linda Young had anything like that going against them. It may have just been a matter of going in a new direction with the roles they had been playing. And I'm pretty sure the reason Chris Sabat had so many roles in 1999 was because there wasn't a lot of talent available at the time, but now they can actually cast other people. There's a lot I don't know about their behind-the-scenes decisions, but ultimately, some changes are inevitable.
I get the frustration, because I really wanted a dub of Dragon Ball with consistent voice acting from start to finish, and it seemed like we almost got there around 2007 or so, when Funi re-dubbed the Saiyans and Namek arcs. Except... it really isn't consistent, because everybody started in the Frieza Saga, and then they did Buu and OG Dragon Ball around the same time, and then went back and did the Saiyans and Namek. Also, some VA's went back and dubbed over their old performances, so in the Frieza Saga Orange Brick DVD set, you have 2006 Sabat playing Vegeta alongside 1999 Sean Schemmel Goku.
That's the thing. Even when it's the same voice actors over time, their performances still change. Sabat's Vegeta started out as a facsimile of Brian Drummond's portrayal on the Ocean dub. Then he gradually got deeper and more gravelly as he went on, which finally hit its peak around 2008, I think, and then he settled into the version we have in Kai and Super.
Also, once DBS started up, it finally hit me that this thing probably isn't going to end anytime soon. It was one thing to hope for a consistent dub of Dragon Ball and DBZ in 2003. But now Funimation has been dubbing this franchise for a quarter century. They have to cast new voice actors. A lot of the old ones are going to quit or retire or die.
This is nothing new for the Japanese cast, since they started back in the 1980's. Daisuke Gori played Mr. Satan until his death in 2010. They cast Unsho Ishizuka to replace him... until his death in 2018. Currently, Mr. Satan is voiced by Masashi Ebara, age 69. So if they're still doing Dragon Ball stuff in twenty years, I think it's likely that they'll have to recast the role again.
I don't mean to sound morbid about this sort of thing, but that's how it is with a long-running franchise like this. Dragon Ball is 38 years old. Things are going to change, people are going to leave, and maybe come back, and then leave again. That's just how it is.
To put it into perspective, when Superman first started in the late 1930's, radio was a big deal, and by 1940, Superman had his own radio series starring Bud Collyer. Collyer was the voice of Superman until the radio show ended around 1951. Then he and some of the other VA's reprised their roles in a cartoon series that ran from 1966 to 1970. Collyer died in 1969, so I guess they must have had some episodes already recorded before the show got cancelled.
Now, I'm a Superman fan, so I'm familiar with Collyer's performance, but the version I grew up with was the Superman who appeared on Superfriends from 1973-1986, played by Danny Dark. Dark was in diapers when Bud Collyer first played the character, and he died in 2004, around the time George Newbern was voicing Superman in Justice League Unlimited.
So when you look at it that way, the voice changes in Dragon Ball aren't so unusual. It's pretty cool how Masako Nozawa and Sean Schemmel have played Goku for so long, but I don't think they'll be the last VA's to handle it in their respective countries. Goku's already a multi-generational character, and I have a feeling he'll be appearing in cartoons for a long time to come.
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Yesterday, I got all 160 Gold Bricks in Lego Star Wars: Complete Saga!
How am I playing the game? A physical PC disc under the "Games for Windows" brand. I wanna say I got it in 2011 (read: when Lego video games had already moved onto their 2.0 engine) or so. Apparently, the PC version was delayed compared to the practically identical console versions released in 2007 (I've heard it was delayed until 2010, but the in-game copyright date instead says 2009).
Getting all 360 Minikits (yes, I know the official term for the collectables that come in sets of ten or sometimes five are "minikit canisters" with "Minikit" being what you build with all of them, but I still call the canisters "minikits") unlocked the Slave 1. Its character icon uses its design from the 2002 Lego set of Jango Fett's Slave 1, but in-game, the model uses Boba Fett's color scheme.
When I was younger, I somehow convinced myself the final character would be the green version of some of the playable vehicles. What am I talking about? In Story mode of I-4, II-1, and II-5 as well as Anakin's Flight, the second player gets a green version of the player 1 vehicle (which are respectively Anakin's podracer, Anakin's speeder on Coruscant, a Republic gunship, and a Naboo Starfighter). III-1 gets around this by having Anakin and Obi-Wan in different ships like in the movie and all the Original Trilogy vehicle levels have either two of the same vehicle or two different vehicles in Story mode.
The issue with that line of thinking is that there are four total green versions of vehicles and the game doesn't cycle between variants of the same playable characters.
Maybe the reason the Slave 1 uses Jango Fett's design on the character token but Boba Fett's design in-game is because I'm using the Modern Overhaul mod? But that mod doesn't affect the custom character creators or vehicles.
Anyway, with all 160 Gold Bricks, I built the stud fountain outside of the Mos Eisley Cantina (the game's hub). Building it instantly unlocked all of the Extras. At least, it would if I hadn't already obtained them all (many of which were from cheat codes). I was hoping it'd also instantly give me completion of the Challenges, but no it didn't. And I was already at the money cap (4 billion studs when the lowest unit you can get at once is 10)
What are Challenges? They're a third mode in addition to Story Mode and Free Play mode where you have twenty minutes (more than enough time) to collect ten blue Minikits in different locations than the normal white ones. This mode is only in Complete Saga (the PC and probably also the console versions) and Lego Star Wars II...'s PlayStation Portable version specifically. Complete Saga is a mix of Lego Star Wars 1 and Lego Star Wars II (which respectively contain levels adapting the prequel and original trilogies).
The point is that even with all the Gold Bricks, characters, vehicles, and Extras, my journey to 100% that game is still not over since Challenge counts for 100% completion.
Challenge mode for levels was cut after Complete Saga.
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I feel like this is something that demoralises and derails people too.
My example is duvet covers. I have about a dozen duvet covers, and sometimes I think "How can someone with a dozen duvet covers think of theirselves as skint? I have so much STUFF!" as this ridiculous tangle of bedding falls out of the cupboard.
But- I moved out of my family home more than 20 years ago, around the turn of the century. I took a set of bedding with me (1), then bought a second one, I think on sale, so that I'd have one to use while that one was in the wash (2). In 2004 they were both looking a little worn, so I bought a new set for guests (3). In 2007 a friend emigrated, leaving me three more sets of bedding (4, 5, 6) by now, they all only spend about 8 weeks out of the year on my bed, so they really aren't wearing out very fast at all. I move abroad for work in 2009, leaving everything behind, and whilst there buy two sets of bedding because there's no point in wasting luggage allowance on sheets (7, 8) - Which are added to the stash when I ship my stuff and come home in 2011. My partner's Mum redecorates her house and sends us two sets of nearly-new bedding that now just clash with the curtains in 2015 (9, 10). In 2019 I see a nice set of bedding made from fleece in a charity shop, and I buy it because it's only £5 (11), in 2022 my best friend turns out to be allergic to red dye and gives me the new duvet cover that brought him out in a rash (12).
I periodically try to give a few of them away (they now all only spend a couple of weeks a year in-use, so it's not like any of them are wearing out very fast!) but I also know that if I go back to only 2 sets, they will wear out within a few years and I'll need to buy new, which seems silly (and which I can't afford, now that a new bedding set is closer to £100 than £20). And most people would rather buy new bedding, than sleep in something very visibly used, anyway. This is plain old much-washed cotton bedding, so I could give it to a charity shop, but it doesn't have resale value- Getting rid of it won't make me richer.
Now repeat this kind of pattern for clothes, hobby stuff, books, furniture- I genuinely don't buy new clothes most years, but since it doesn't really wear out, I have dozens of T-shirts collected over years of "Donate more than £10 and get a free tee!" Or "Drink five bottles and get a lucky dip shirt!" Or "All front of house staff take 2 branded shirts and a lanyard"... Even before getting to things like the shirts I've been sentimentally given by partners and friends, or did (very rarely) deliberately buy to try to look smart at some point. Again, I can give them away (and frequently do!) but that doesn't make me richer.
So I look around at all my stuff and go "I can't be POOR, I have so much STUFF, if only I was smarter with money I'd not be struggling! I'm just an idiot who doesn't deserve to think about my situation in terms of class struggle!" And then go back to eating cold beans under a pile of duvets because I can't afford to put the heating on.
I guess friendly reminder that you can't actually judge someone's socioeconomic status based on what they own and the classic republican "they can't be poor they own a smart phone/computer" argument doesn't suddenly stop being complete out of touch nonsense when a poor person makes it.
Anyway insert "y'all can't be trusted to eat the rich bcs you'll target taco bell shift leaders and people with playstations instead of actual billionaires" post here.
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Love, peace, and harmony, or: how I fell in love with The Courteeners
March 26th, 2009
Two years ago, it seemed I bumbled around interviews talking about how much I hated specific bands. It’s not that I like those bands now, I just realise how stupid a topic of conversation it is. It wasn’t entirely my fault. A lot of music journalists (primarily in the UK) very much saw LC! as fitting a gap they had, and so a lot of interviews we did were primarily intended to get us to talk about how British music was in a rut, ‘lad rock’ sucked and how nobody else ‘got it’ like we did. I guess we found it edgy and exciting at the time, to be seen (even by just a few) as being renegades, but now it’s mostly a little embarrassing.
Last night I went to see Morrissey play at Webster Hall. The Courteeners opened up. The Courteeners rose to prominence (?) in the summer of 2007 I think. We were in the US for that time, and when we got back from the UK and I saw some magazine with them on the cover (NME, maybe?), I had no idea who they were. I felt like my Grampy.
I stood on the balcony, watching their set, right next to their parents. After every song, a gent who I think was probably the singer’s father, wooped “come on Liam! Give it to ‘em”. Exactly like my dad does when he watches us play (sometimes my Dad calls me Liam). And the mothers danced and clapped along out of time. And smiles didn’t leave their faces the whole half an hour (The crowd’s reaction to the band was indifferent. It was always going to be though, because Morrissey fans don’t want to see anybody but Morrissey, do they?). The parents looked so proud. And that feeling of being thousands of miles from home, watching your sons play their songs in front of a couple of thousand people in New York City, cannot and will not be beaten, I’d imagine. And the feeling of seeing your parents that proud is pretty rad too. So yeh, I’m making even more of an effort not to slag bands any more. Because we are all our parents’ children, or something, and it’s fucking boring, and it’s much more productive to talk about the positives, anyway. RIGHT BLOGGERS!?
ANYWAYS, MOZ.
Was good. Here are some notes:
$9 for a bottle of beer is fucking disgusting Webster Hall. As if a $75 ticket wasn’t insult enough.
Opening with ‘This Charming Man’. Can’t remember being overcome by such uncontrollable smiles in a long time.
Morrissey’s band is amazing. The five of them were never completely overshadowed by Moz. Surges to the front of the stage, rockstar poses, balancing guitars on their heads. It was a SHOW!!
I watched an episode of Home Movies on my iPod whilst waiting for the music to start. It was the Pizza Club one. Really good episode.
Idiot man at the bar: “what is this spoken word stuff playing? Who put this on?”. MORRISSEY PUT IT ON, YOU R-TARD!
Morrissey: I think you should wear a belt. Middle aged men in light denim without a belt just makes me think of Clarkson.
Might get quiff.
One of the worst practices in the music biz: making support bands price match the headlining band’s merch. Come on guys.
Morrissey has a PETA stall traveling on tour with him. This is the coolest thing I have ever seen Moz, well done. But when are you gonna go vegan? [citation needed]
Watching people try to get onstage to touch Morrissey is the closest thing to religion I have ever experienced. I’m gonna try to touch Morrissey when we play at Coachella.
At the back of the balcony, too far away to see, girls ballroom style danced, together. Amazing.
Here’s a clip of Moz playing ‘How Soon Is Now’. It’s only about 60 seconds long, because it suddenly dawned on me:
“I am at a Morrissey concert, and I’m taking a really shit quality video, watching the song through an inch square screen, so I can put it on my blog, what the fuck am I doing, LOOK WHAT I’VE BECOME!! I am here alone, this song is SO TOTALLY ABOUT ME!! Work with it.“.
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20 Years of Blogging. No, really. (Part 1)
So, twenty years ago Jamie and I were living in the wasteland suburbs of Phoenix, Arizona in a town-turned-bedroom community name of Chandler. We'd moved out to Phoenix in pursuit of a new job for Jamie. But, also, we figured we were young and didn't have that many roots down in the years after college and marrying fairly early (2000). Now seemed a good time for trying new places and things.
It didn't work out.
You can visit Jamie's occasional remembrances of our time in Phoenix, and that's a goodly part of the story. But, also, between Jamie's health, the fact I was working crazy hours, and a general lack of opportunity to meet people, we just didn't know many folks in town that we could call "pal". I either managed or was supervised by the people I worked with, and Jamie mostly worked with men - so she wasn't meeting many women she could pal with- and everyone she worked with seemed to be at a different point in their lives from hanging our with two 20-somethings. That, and, man, if you asked me what the culture was in Phoenix in 2003, I'd say "strip malls and pretending you're rich". We just didn't click with many folks.
So, that's where we were at in some ways.
For technical context, in 2003, we had BBS's, but we didn't really have social media. Facebook as you know it would happen closer to 2007. Friendster and MySpace would happen in quick succession around 2004, but they were barely interactive. If you wanted to email someone when you found them, you could. But including posts and comments and all that came with FB, really. Twitter would happen closer to 2009.
But in 2003, we were experiencing the golden age of blogging.
The web as we know it started happening in the mid-1990's. My first modem came into my possession in 1994 when a guy on my floor, who had just replaced his hardware, was punting his old modem down the hall and was willing to just let me have it. I got an account, got an email address, and was online in 24 hours.
Websites were more or less a thing by 1995 or 1996, so that first year was mostly BBS's and figuring out who had email. Which was PINE, I think.
By the time I was wrapping up college in 1998, my friends were working as web designers for a living, and the first internet boom was off to the races.* While companies looked for angles for how they could sell their stuff online, people were out there creating individual websites, which were hard to set up and maintain until GeoCities and other companies made it possible to set up a light (and often horrible looking) web presence. It was a bold new frontier.
By 1999, I was already working in online video and early streaming efforts, delivering courses to the internet. I was already *very online* by 2003. The last thing I wanted to do when I got home was spend more time putting content on the web.
When we moved to Phoenix, we were suddenly 1000 miles and a couple of time zones from anyone we knew. Add in, I used to sleep about 5-6 hours per night Monday to Friday, but like 10 hours on Saturday and Sunday. Suffice to say, I had some downtime. And pre-blogging, you'd sometimes find yourself sending out missives and correspondence via emails, and you'd have chains of folks you messaged. But not everyone was good about it. Somehow I fell into emailing a lot with a pal from college/ film school, JimD, who would CC folks I didn't yet know into email chains. And thus I met folks like RHPT.
I was also, and had been, into comics, sci-fi, etc... for a good chunk of time. And Jim and I would email about movies and comics, and then one day he suggested I start blogging.
I had no illusions about writing for the comics sites that were mushrooming up at the time. Comic Book Resources. Robot 6. There were others. I can't remember what Heidi's site was before The Beat, if, in fact, she had a different name for it. But as Wizard Magazine self-immolated and failed to bring it's brand of comics nerddom to the internet, the websites gained steam. And there was a pretty good cross-pollination of individual bloggers just writing for the hell of it and folks trying to make it a business.
Folks would set up Blog Rings or Circles, so you knew who their peeps were. And, of course, they'd use good ol' http to make sure they were linking to one another.
But, man, it was the wild west. No one knew who anyone really was. People used handles a lot (I think I was 2 years into blogging before I went by anything other than "The League"), and all the old barriers of zines and magazines and spending money to get to print went away. So it could be literally anyone out there talking comics from any angle they chose. Like Bronze Age funny animals? GREAT. Go get a blog.
But here's the kooky part - and the thing I miss. They were also *personality* blogs. Folks were as likely to discuss a day at the dentist or their passion about stamp collecting as they were about Bronze Age funny animal comics. And that deeply informed what became The League of Melbotis.
In addition to just me and Jamie in Arizona, we also had Jeff the Cat - an utter bastard of an animal who only liked me of all other living things. And, Melbotis. Mel was a 100 lb. golden retriever of great intelligence and an phenomenal disposition. He was so loved that I still get a little teary thinking about the guy.
I grew up with some good dogs, Puffy and Misty, and wanted a dog very badly after Jamie and I got married. Shortly after we got married, some friends of ours split up and moved to separate coasts, and neither could take their dog. So we did. And he became our great pal.
I don't really remember where the name "League of Melbotis" came from. "Melbotis" was his name when we got the dog, and it was some gag between them I won't explain here. The "League of" came - I am sure - from Justice League America and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and something sounding official around our buddy.
Anyway - at some point Jim gave me the right push, I picked Blogger as a platform as the easiest and free-est one to manage, and thus launched League of Melbotis on March 30th, 2003. And a few days later I was like "this is dumb. I'm not doing this." and pulled the plug.
I think it's very hard for people to understand in 2023 that in 2003, employers and people in your life expected for you to present a certain face to the public world, and they didn't love it if they could Google you and up would come something as silly and trivial as comic books. You were allowed to have hobbies and lives outside work, but you weren't to bring them into your work life, and the internet's eye meant that the lines blurred and crossed. So there was concern there.
But, also, I was of the (correct) opinion that it was semi-pointless and useless to put your thoughts into print. This was when having legitimate publishers behind you meant something, so a blog was less than that. Heck, it was thumbing your nose at that idea. Who was I to write down and send my thoughts on anything into the ether?
But then I decided: I'm not using my real name. It doesn't @#$%ing matter.
Though I'd blown away the original blog, it turned out, JimD had somehow stashed the first blog posts, and sent me the text. So the first few posts are very strange as they're recovered from the erased first take at blogging.
For the very earliest posts, which include random thoughts on comics, American Idol, the situation in Iraq and my moment of pause at turning 28 years old, you can visit, why not hop over to League of Melbotis?
It was, as I said, a personality blog. Sure, I talked comics, but as we did back then, I talked about the news, about my dog, about what was on TV... basically anything that crossed my mind became fodder. Because one thing I did want in 2003 was an easier way to stay in touch with people, and have the chit-chat you don't realize you miss until it's gone.
Fairly quickly after the blog launched, I reconnected with some folks I'd lost to time, moving, etc... Friends from childhood, high school, college, etc... popped up shooting me emails. I employed a comment plug-in and conversations started. New folks popped up. Who was this Harms fellow? Strange Canadians eventually showed up.
In an era before centralized social media, I could tell people were checking on the blog during their coffee breaks or in the evening. The sorts of posts I'd make that now would be a one sentence facebook post became lengthy comment threads. Pondering about sports - and I was very in the tank for the Phoenix Suns at the time - drew all sorts of commentary, often from friends of friends.
For good or ill, most of the comments from the first years of League of Melbotis have been lost to time and the ether. That plug-in I was using went defunct, and all my comments went with it. It's a bit of a bummer as I'd like to track when people showed up in my life, but I also think maybe for folks' personal lives and to protect the innocent years on, it's good that our Golden Era of Blogging comments are lost to time.
Because it wasn't all pleasant. As folks engaged in "someone is wrong on the internet" behavior, suddenly I was monitoring and managing arguments between folks who didn't even know each other wanting to debate (endlessly) in the comments, and any attempt to tell them to knock it off was met with fury and "help! help! I'm being oppressed!"
And I'm sure my attempts to keep an open door at The League of Melbotis also both made it easy for these tiffs to start and made it confusing when I had to play Dad. It certainly prepped me for the stuff that would spiral out on facebook and twitter in the 2010's.
So, if my primary mission was to talk to folks outside of the greater Phoenix area on an ongoing basis - that worked out.
My secondary mission was, in an era where Spider-Man movies were now a thing, and people now knew who the X-Men were thanks to High Jackman, to talk about the wide world of comic books, superheroes, and the general hidden corners of pop culture that people generally didn't discuss much in polite society.
There was an element of boosterism. This is an era where one bad movie could have reset everything back to people thinking comics were for children or the mentally deranged (or perverts, which... fair enough). Anyway, I wanted to share my enthusiasm for all-things comics using Superman as a lens.
In truth, I was still learning about Superman at the time (and still am. It's lifelong learning). But I would make a post about a bad time at the post-office one day and then discuss a comic book series the next. Or sometimes in the same post.
I was fascinated by the work of publications like The Comics Journal, or Alter-Ego, but I wasn't trying to turn LoM into a job. I was pretty aware that even my meager government job at the time was a better deal than the gig life of trying to make articles about comics a full time job.
I did link a lot to comics news sites. Newsarama, Robot 6, CBR, The Beat. This was when they wrote actual think-pieces on comics and hadn't traded their credibility for access, and then the death spiral into listicle sites. That all came later. Circa 2003, those sites were excited young adults writing actual articles that had a point of view
And then... sometimes they linked back. Which was amazingly weird.
(End Part 1)
This is a cross-post with the recently revived League of Melbotis blog, which we're using for non-media-related blogging.
*it's here I want to tell the story of how my family tried to tell me in March of 1998 that the media studio I was working at part time wasn't developing pages that would appear on "the real internet". Which is as crazy a story as it sounds like.
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Saga of Solitude 11/21
Nepo!Baby Bradley and his life at USNA and afterwards. DADT fully in force. IceMav AU. (Begun prior to 'It's not who you know' - the non-angsty version). (Side Hangster, which is ALSO angsty).
PROLOGUE (He remembers)
HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights - set 2009)
PREVIOUS CHAPTERS
ONE (2000) TWO (2001) THREE (2002) FOUR (2003) FIVE (2004) SIX (2005) SEVEN (2006) EIGHT (2007) NINE (2008) TEN (2009)
CHAPTER ELEVEN - 2010
Tom watches the State of Union address and rather than sipping his whiskey he throws it back and pours himself another. Pete is out at the hangar, staying there, won’t be watching. Putting an end to Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. That’s what Obama wants to do. His hands are shaking a little. It’s no guarantee, but it’s a damn sight closer than they’ve ever been before and he thinks about having a ring ready to propose. Or maybe a watch. Both. Maybe both. Bradley might argue that he’s already proposed by buying an old Navy hangar, but that hadn’t been done with the intention of declaring his love and commitment, and more of a way of giving Maverick some roots that were close. He wants something so that Maverick knows where he belongs.
… … …
Bradley knows his time is up. He’s had his wings for a couple of years now, was only here for a few months to assist with one small aspect of training the incoming cohort, but mainly to learn the new EA-18 Growlers. He’s finished the training he came to Corpus Christi for. Glad that while they may have been on the same base he and Jake haven’t been living in each other’s pockets. Jake still has the rest of the year and he’s glad to be leaving. Every time he catches Jake’s eyes on him his resolve weakens and he has to talk himself out of giving in and finding some dark corner to push Jake into and sink to his knees…
His mind goes back to the weekend they spent together almost daily, multiple times a day and he can only assume that Jake’s does as well. He enjoyed it, and if he had a different job or lived a different life he’d definitely be doing more, something, anything, to keep Jake in his life. Instead he’s putting it in the too-hard basket and putting the basket high up on a shelf in his mind so that he doesn’t have to think about what ifs.
“Bradshaw.”
“Seresin.” He watches as Jake’s jaw clenches and releases, his eyes hard as he looks at Bradley, his duffle packed and lying at his feet while he waits for his transport out.
“See you around Bradshaw.”
“Yeah. See you around.”
… … …
Lying in bed with Ice, mostly naked and not because they’ve had sex, but simply ready for bed and lying side-by-side, reading their respective things. Ice, some report that is making the little muscle in his jaw twitch and he wants to set fire to it and simultaneously tell Ice off for bringing work into bed. Hmm. For all he knows this is something he does regularly and it’s only now that he’s here so much that Ice is letting him see all of his habits. That’s okay, he’ll deal with this one as well eventually and he’ll give up on the idea that reading reports is somehow an appropriate bedtime activity. He himself is reading the Navy News, which is mostly dry but does sometimes have some funny anecdotes.
“We’re ending the ban of women in submarines…”
“It’s 2010 Maverick, it’s about time,” Ice snaps and Pete’s eyebrows shoot up. He knows Ice would have already known about the ban lifting.
“Uh… I was just reading it out loud.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to snap. Just… it’s been a long day.”
“Well, while they’re letting women on, they’re also banning smoking. So you know, no after-sex cigarette for anyone.”
Ice’s lips twitch and Pete knows he’s fighting amusement at his words, his stress over whatever it is bothering him slipping away as his attention shifts to him. Just where he likes it. He scrambles up and shifts, straddles Ice’s thighs and grins.
“Hi.”
“Hi. Do I want to know what you’re thinking?”
“Hmm. Probably not. But it’s good. Promise.”
The look Ice gives him is clearly disbelieving and he rolls his hips a little, his half-erect cock rubbing up against Ice’s stomach and pelvis. Ice grunts, shifts and grabs at his ass and Pete grins wider, eyebrows waggling because he’s here and the novelty hasn’t worn off yet.
“Oh. Like that is it?”
“Mmm. All ready to go…”
“Presumptuous of you.”
“Hopeful. Optimistic.”
“You? Never…”
“I had a well thought out plan and thought you’d appreciate my forward thinking…”
“Your dirty talk needs work.”
“Talking about being prepared doesn’t get you hot?”
“Not as much as you naked in my lap does. And that was a terrible double entendre.”
“I’m also not naked…”
“And you said you had this planned out…” Ice tuts, lips twitching with amusement and whatever he’d been thinking about, stressing about, is forgotten now. Good.
“Easily remedied,” Pete says, and he strips off his shirt and throws it over the side of the bed. Then Ice’s hands are on him, running over bare skin and he bends down to kiss him, likes the height difference being in his favor for once. Ice’s hand goes to wrap around them both and he pulls away, because that’s not what he wants.
“No, like this…”
“Oh. God Mav…”
He twists and turns, straddles Ice’s thighs again, but this time his back is to Ice’s chest and he reaches behind and guides Ice’s cock to his ass and then settles back, lips between his teeth as he presses through the stretching burn, because he might have prepped but it’s still a stretch. He focuses on Ice’s groan, the feeling of his hands on his hips and then he’s settled, pressed tight everywhere, inside and out, Ice’s arm around his waist holding him close, his other hand on Pete’s cock.
“Trying to kill me…”
“Why would I do that. You’re far too useful to me like this.”
Ice jerks his hips sharply and his breath is punched out of him, then he’s rolling them and Pete groans, pushes back and down to meet the upward thrust of Ice’s hips. Ice’s hands on him holding and guiding him into a rhythm that works, willing to be taken wherever Ice wants now that he’s where he wants to be. It’s a little overwhelming, how close and intimate it feels despite not being able to watch his face. He can feel Ice’s breath hot against his neck though, his lips and teeth grazing over the sensitive skin.
“Fuck Pete…” Ice says, his hand around Pete’s cock tightens and speeds up and Pete let’s his head fall back, holds himself and just shudders as he comes all over Ice’s hand. He goes boneless, sagging back against Ice, sliding further onto his cock, his body shuddering again.
“Fuck Mav… So good, you’re so good,” Ice says, hand sticky with Pete’s come but now holding him even harder as he drives his hips up, sucks at his neck until he grunts and jerks, and comes. They stay like that, pressed together, filthy and sweaty and panting. Pete keeps his head tipped back onto Ice’s shoulder, sucking in deep breaths, Ice’s arms wrapped tight around his waist, head tucked into the juncture of Pete’s neck and shoulder, like he doesn’t want to let go.
“Love you Pete…”
Pete startles a little, because it’s not something they say often. Not to one another. They do say it, but nowhere as often as they might say it to the girls, or even Bradley. Huh. They probably should say it to each other a bit more often, when he thinks about all the high-stress times they’ve snapped it out with relief or frustration. This is a stark difference, quiet and soft.
“Love you too.”
Ice groans and kisses the side of his neck again.
“Why did you have to mention cigarettes earlier? I’d kill for one right now…”
… … …
He’s serving on a carrier when he hears about the Deepwater Horizon oil rig explosion, and then he sees things firsthand, the controlled burning of the oil, the Coastguard in charge of cleanup and the thick black smoke seems never ending. It apparently takes them three months to stop the oil spilling out but by then the carrier he’s on has moved away. His phone calls and letters with Tamsin are about nothing but the explosion and spill, and she informs him she’s been volunteering with local beach cleanups, despite the fact it’s nowhere near the oil spill.
For the first summer in a long time he doesn’t make it home and he misses Petra’s twelfth birthday. She apparently has a slumber party and his presence isn’t missed, although apparently they’d gone and played laser tag and he’d have been useful there against Maverick, who had apparently taken great joy in shooting them all down until everyone ganged up against him. Tamsin misses him and he knows the others probably miss him as well but Tamsin tells him and it makes him feel like he can tell her the same thing, even when he misses them all equally.
… … …
Combat troops leave Iraq and combat operations cease and he looks at the world map and wonders where they’ll be deploying combat troops to next. Bored combat troops are not a good thing to have lots of and he’s glad it’s not his problem.
… … …
Another fucking explosion at another oil rig and he thinks of the months of oil leaking into the ocean, is so relieved when he hears that nothing from this particular explosion happens, and thanks Tamsin for her stellar reporting abilities. She’s started back at school and he’ll be home soon, this time with Natasha in tow for most of it, although she’s also got plans to visit Christopher and Patrick in San Francisco, now happily married for two years. Bradley has accepted the invitation to go and visit near the end of his leave, allow himself some stress relief before another several months on yet another carrier.
… … …
He gets home and is pleased to find that Petra hasn’t suddenly shot up, and he wonders if she’s going to have Mav’s height like Tamsin has Ice’s. Already Tamsin is the same height as Maverick, something she gleefully points out every time they’re standing even remotely close together. Of course Sarah isn’t a short woman, a couple of inches taller than Mav anyway. He’s not really paying attention as he drives but he sees the for sale sign and then his brain catches up and he’s doing a careful U-turn and heading back toward the partially empty lot where a car, a truck, is parked up. It’s rusted in places, some panels are different colors, but on the large piece of card with for sale is also a number underneath.
He’d been wondering what he was going to do with all the time on his hands with his two months of leave. This would definitely occupy his time while the girls are in school. Melissa, Sarah, Ice and Mav have all been more than happy to pass over taxi-driving responsibilities to him and Natasha for the duration of their leave, and to ferry the girls to all their after-school activities and social engagements. But it still leaves them both most of the day, and there’s only so much working out and then hanging out he can do before he starts getting bored.
“What is there a piece of scrap metal in my driveway?”
“Uh, it’s my new car.”
“What happened to the Audi?”
“Oh, I’m still driving that. Natasha is out at the moment and she borrowed it.”
“So you bought a mobile tetanus death trap to drive around in?”
“Oh, it doesn’t go. I bought it to do it up.”
Ice looks pained and Bradley exchanges a look with Mav, who had helped him arrange the tow to bring the truck here.
“Of course you did. And you thought putting it in my driveway was an acceptable place for it? Why do you think I bought Mav a hangar?”
“Because you love him?” Bradley asks, and Mav is fucking laughing silently.
“To give him a place to store his junk that isn’t my driveway.”
“Ice, please? I want to stay here, not spend three hours a day driving back and forth…”
“Three hours? It should take you four.”
“And yet Mav does it in nearly two. Let’s not think about that okay?”
“Fine. Fine. Just… it’s going to the hangar before you leave.”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“Come on then, show me this project you’ve decided to work on…”
Bradley takes him back outside and he and Mav proceed to poke and prod while Ice watches with increasing horror.
“Why would you buy a rust bucket? It looks like someone’s driven it into the fucking ocean and left it there to marinate…”
“I wanted a challenge… it’s all superficial rust right?”
“It doesn’t have an engine Bradley.”
“Uh. Yeah. That is a problem.”
“Definitely a challenge. Guess I know what I’m getting you for Christmas.”
“What?”
“A book on car restoration and how to build engines from scratch.”
Bradley laughs, but the jokes on him because he’s pretty sure Natasha already has plans to build the engine herself and leave the body work to Bradley.
… … …
Halloween is a blast. He hasn’t dressed up with the girls in years, Tamsin looks fierce in her Astrid costume, a double headed sword she swings around gleefully. Petra is dressed as a Minion and Bradley is so glad that Sarah and Melissa were all over the costumes, because just sorting himself out was stressful enough. Natasha is totally onboard with going all out. She’s picked Jesse from Toy Story, and has convinced him to go as Woody, which includes shaving his moustache.
“You know it’s this magical thing hair does. It grows back. Come on. I don’t know why you’re so attached to looking like an extra from Magnum PI.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll shave it. Just…”
“You’ll still look good, don’t worry.”
Bradley rolls his eyes, but he does shave it off on the Saturday morning, fully intends to immediately let it start growing back. Not to be left out Mav is dressed as Buzz Lightyear, insisting on coming with them despite all of them really being too old for trick-or-treating with the exception of Petra.
Then it’s Thanksgiving followed very closely by Tamsin’s birthday in the weekend. He’ll be deployed again by Christmas but this is better, his family together is something he’ll aways be grateful for.
… … …
Even if he can’t use the watch to propose it’ll make a nice Christmas gift for Mav. Then the House of Representatives pass a stand-alone bill that repeals DADT and he knows he can’t hold his breath for days it feels like he is, his whole life standing still, caught in time. Then the Senate is voting to repeal DADT and he wonders if now is too soon to ask Maverick to marry him. When Obama signs it into law four days later, just three days before Christmas he knows what he’s doing on Christmas Day as soon as he wakes up.
TWELVE - 2011
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badly articulated thought that will be eventually expanded on when i properly post about that race but to ME there's something really unique about laguna 2008 in that it like... wakes you up. i do actually think the 2008 season is pretty decent in terms of watchability, the races aren't as awful as in some 800cc seasons and you do have some fun drama early on (thanks jorge), but it's still kinda... by the time you get to laguna, you've sort of been lulled into a false sense of security. the title fight has had some pretty sizeable momentum shifts but all of them feel pretty logical progressions. the rookie's campaign fell off the cliff, valentino got used to the new tyres, if ducati could fix the bike then everyone suspected casey would do his thing again... and given what 2007 looked like, by this point obviously the expectation is that casey might well run away with the title. or maybe not! maybe there'll be a gentle shift back in valentino's direction, who knows! but crucially it's all like... quite chill... the title protagonists get on Fine, valentino and casey sometimes peek out above the parapet and fire shots vaguely in each other's direction but it's all still pretty civil and restrained and you toss in a little valentino throwing an arm around casey's shoulder at donington to quiet the boos here and there and... it's just a different vibe. valentino saying he has a more normal relationship with dani and casey than past rivals and it's obviously true... and the thing is. usually when these valentino feuds have a big moment, you do kinda get some warning. often it's late in seasons where everyone is stressing out about the title fight and it sort of makes sense for things to get tense. often there's been a big flashpoint or two earlier that year. or you kinda know going into the race something might happen... jerez 2005 obviously, where him and sete already hated each other and it's the opening round and it's in spain. compare it even to something like catalunya 2009, which didn't necessarily cause a feud per se though it was obviously still a Big Moment in that season and also that rivalry... but there you kinda knew jorge and valentino might be fighting for the victory going off practise pace and also it's jorge's home race and also it's right after valentino lost his home race for the first time since the last ice age... like there's something in the air!! whereas what makes laguna 2008 so unique and so brutal is that there's NOTHING. nobody thought the race would be a contest! there's no real build up of tensions in the valentino/casey dynamic! watching the races before that is actually quite nice and comfortable and remarkably decent vibes between all the title contenders!! casey's doing the thing again! valentino's joking about needing a thirty second head start and that feels like a reasonable thing to say! and the thing is, it's a feud that is set up first and foremost through this single race performance which like... it is actually unique in that sense... valentino keeping the charm more or less still flowing in casey's direction while he's figuring out how to turn this title fight around again... so when valentino's big moment arrives, he actually manages to catch everyone unawares. including, most importantly, casey. obviously always important to note that the feud didn't start overnight after laguna and casey plays the traditional valentino role in that rivalry in terms of biding his time - but in the grand scheme of things... it's still all about that one race. and it just wouldn't have been anywhere near as significant if it had been a little less of a surprise
#my intense sympathy for casey vying with my profound love of drama always makes the build up to that race very emotionally conflicted#like on the one hand it's very. yes yes (sickos) nobody knows what's coming!!#but on the other hand. look at my innocent daughter. look at her. please have mercy on my daughter#//#brr brr#heretic tag#laguna 2008 is awful because it's an EMBARRASSING race to lose. people completely miss this#like that's why it's emotionally so deadly. it's because it leaves casey feeling like valentino's made him look like an idiot#that sick twist in your stomach of having everyone's eyes on you because you know everyone knows you should have won that...#psychologically it's the single most fascinating race i've ever watched idk what 2 tell u
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just another sunday in may
Mulder distracts Scully on Mother’s Day
Dedicated to everyone who has a difficult relationship with their mother, or with motherhood, or both. ily <3
1775 words, read here on AO3, there be smut ahead
Just another Sunday in May, they told themselves as they woke one another with wandering hands and sleep-warm kisses. There was no specific reason she always booked the three days before and after this weekend off work, not one that was ever voiced. Just another Sunday in May.
He made pancakes, like any other Sunday, and she avoided church, unlike any other Sunday.
They did chores together, putting more effort into making a game out of everything than they usually would; tag-teaming the laundry, beating out the rugs on the porch together. Anything to keep the laughter that was driving away the darker thoughts.
Around noon, the sun grew too hot to bear, unseasonably hot, and housework was exchanged for reading on the sofa under the sputtering of the fan that had travelled from shitty motel to shitty motel with them when the guarantee of working AC had been little more than a dream. They drew the blinds and in the dim they each relished in the static of the crackly transistor that sat on the bookshelf, both well aware that neither was processing the words they were reading. Not just another Sunday in May.
The radio was turned off after half an hour, the afternoon DJ cheerfully fielding calls from local families, everyone with a story; a message for someone special.
He left the room after that, the silence just as oppressive as the heat, and after checking the clock took up his post by the phone in the kitchen, answering it on its first ring, lied under his breath to Mrs Scully, his well-rehearsed ‘Dana’s out this afternoon, I’ll have her call you back tomorrow.’ She needed no more guilt today.
He puttered about; fed the chickens, chopped vegetables ready for the salad they’d have for dinner, checking back to see her staring at the same page she’d been on when he left. She needed this time, though. It was only ever worse when she didn’t have some time to herself.
‘It’s cooled down a little,’ his voice murmured in her ear as his hands landed on her shoulders, thumbs digging into the tense muscles, ‘should be cool enough to wash the car.’
‘Want help?’ she tilted her face up from the journal she was staring at to look at him. He’d taken his t-shirt off at some point during the day, and she reached behind her to pat his bare chest, comb her fingers through the scrub of hair there.
‘Always,’ he grinned, pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
Sponges, soapy water and hosepipe on hand, they made their way outside, barefoot down their creaky steps to the dry, prickly grass.
The sun had been beaming down on the car all day, heating it up. The first two sprays of water that hit dried within seconds. The third took a little longer, and the fourth soaking had droplets staying.
She chucked one of the soapy sponges over at him and they got to work, starting at the windscreen and working their way around the opposite sides to the rear. Half an hour of scrubbing and they met at the back.
A dab of soap on her nose and the tension broke; they were breaking down in cackles, leaning into one another despite the lingering heat of the day. This, too, was needed.
‘Mulder...’ she purred, fingers hooking into the belt loops of his shorts; pulling him closer and bumping her soapy nose into his.
‘Hey,’ he grinned, soapy hands tugging at the light blue tank top she was wearing, sodden in places, ‘is this new?’
‘No,’ she giggled, licking her lips.
‘Huh. Looks good.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah, though, it would look better upstairs, on the bedroom floor.’
She snorted, shook her head, ‘that’s a terrible line.’
‘But did it work?’
‘You’ll have to wait and see,’ she muttered, taking his sponge and dropping them both in the bucket whilst he picked up the hosepipe and started washing the suds off the car. Glinting in the sunlight, shiny like new.
He sent her a wicked grin before flicking the spray of water up towards her, ‘oops.’
Cold water soaked through her top and shorts, coercing a squeal as she darted out of the way, ‘Oops? Oops?!’ she ran over to him with a laugh, wrestling the hose from his hand and aiming it towards him, chasing him around the yard.
‘Gotcha,’ his arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her up and pressing his lips against hers. The hose fell from her grasp, twisting snakelike until it settled, her hands gravitating to rake through his hair, tug at the damp strands.
‘Hi,’ she grinned, bit her bottom lip.
‘Hi,’ a kiss on her nose, another on her cheek, her brow, her jaw, her mole. Then, finally, her lips parted under his, soft and supple and sweet. ‘We should get you out of those wet clothes.’
‘Oh yeah?’ she looked down at her now-translucent top, the way it clung to her breasts.
‘Yeah,’ he murmured into her collarbone as his fingers started tugging on the button of her shorts, her hands gravitating to the fly of his.
‘Well if mine are coming off, so should yours.’
‘Tit for tat, only fair,’ a smirk, a thumb brushing across a hard nipple pebbling through her wet t-shirt.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t call what you have to offer tat,’ she nipped at his ear as her hands roamed, nails scratching at the skin under his waistband, slipping into his boxers to play across his ass cheeks, pulling him in closer to her, bracketing his thighs with her own.
‘Why thank you,’ he hooked a finger over the top of her tank top, gave her a wicked smirk before tugging it down below her breasts, ‘whoops.’
‘Whoops? You seem to be making a lot of mistakes today, Mulder? Do you need your head checking?’
‘You’ve known me long enough to know I always need my head checking,’ he ducked his head, darted his tongue out to lash at her nipple as she raked her fingers through his hair, scratching affectionately at his scalp.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say always. Just most of the time.’
‘Uh-huh. And what’s your verdict, Doctor Scully?’
She snapped the elastic of his boxers against his hips, ‘that you’re talking too much,’ a necessary distraction, she knew, for her benefit. And despite her words, she didn’t mind one bit. ‘Off,’ she tugged at his underwear again, pulling back from him so she had enough range of motion to guide them down over his swollen shaft. He took the moment away from her to nudge her cut-offs down, leering at her when she leant back on her hands and arched her back to help. She jolted as the tender flesh of her bare ass met with the hot surface of the car and he only laughed harder when she stuck her middle finger up at him for chortling.
Her legs twined themselves around his hips, drawing him in, and he enjoyed the sound of her giggles as he danced his tongue lightly around her ear, causing her to squirm and squeal. It took barely three strokes of his cock up and down her slit for her wetness to coat him and he moaned at their mutual need and desire, sighing as she gasped when he entered her. It was his goal to keep her distracted, keep her happy, and laughter was on the menu, so the moment he suspected she’d withdrawn into her introspection – the moment he saw the thought that she should not be enjoying herself cross her face – he brought out the jokes, ‘Hey, Scully?’
‘Hm?’ she shifted her hips slightly as he started rocking into her.
‘How d’you make a pool table laugh?’
The corner of her mouth twitched and he grinned pre-emptively, ‘I dunno, Mulder, how do you make a pool table laugh?’
‘Tickle its balls.’
‘Oh, my God! That’s terrible, Mulder,’ she couldn’t help but laugh at how bad it was, shaking her head.
‘What did the sign on the door of the out-of-business brothel say?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Beat it, we’re closed.’ She snorted, her body quaking as she tried to suppress her mirth. ‘There’s more where that came from,’ her pussy clenched around him and he grunted, trying to keep his pace even.
‘Oh, god. Go on, then.’
‘What’s long and hard and full of seamen?’
She grinned, ‘oh, I know this one: a submarine.’
He gave her a smirk and rolled his eyes, ‘actually, my cock.’
‘Oh yeah?’ she bit her bottom lip, trying to hold back her echoing smile, ‘well, why don’t you put it to use then?’
‘Oh, you wound me, Scully!’ he clutched at his chest and she roiled with laughter. He waited for her to calm, her breaths still coming in stuttered gasps, before he moved one of his hands from where it rested on her thigh to the juncture between her legs, swiping at the moisture that was pooling and dragging it up to her clit. He circled the bead of nerves quickly and she gasped for a different reason, her hips picking up a rolling rhythm to meet his. His other hand played at grazing all the soft parts he knew were ticklish, his mouth joining in the game as she trembled around his shaft, moaning now into the open air.
It didn’t take long to bring her to her crest – it rarely did when her emotions were simmering just below the surface – and he chased his release into her, chanting her name mixed with declarations of love as he came.
She sagged in his arms, tucked her head under his chin and clung tightly to him, humming softly as he hoisted her into his arms and carried her into the house to clean up. He’d rewash the car tomorrow.
After, they gathered blankets and cushions from inside, lay them out on a dry patch of grass. Mulder tossed the salad he’d prepped earlier whilst Scully grabbed the bottle of Jack from the top shelf of the cupboard under the stairs, foregoing the glasses in favour of drinking straight from the dusty bottle.
They ate and drank under the setting sun, and when the stars emerged and the bottle was half gone, she whispered a quiet ‘are you disappointed in me?’
‘Never,’ he whispered back, just as quietly, so as to not disturb the night around them.
‘I don’t deserve you.’
‘You deserve everything, Scully, and more.’
She kissed him, earnest and soft and salty with tears. He loved her. He wasn’t disappointed in her. It was just another Sunday in May.
Tagging @today-in-fic
#my writing#set sometime around 2007-2009#xf fanfic#mother's day#unremarkable house#txf#msr#x files#the x files#smut#fun fact this was actually two separate fics - the beginning and the end were seperate from the smut#but they kinda had the same vibe of mulder trying to distract scullt#and it felt...right#considering I also had them set in my head around the same era
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THE GLOBE AND MAIL (TORONTO)
GAYLE MACDONALD PUBLISHED FEBRUARY 9, 2009
When Chris Evans is not on a movie set - spewing testosterone, saving the world, helping dames in distress - the handsome actor can usually be found at a dog park in Los Angeles. It's an inner-city haunt where he takes "the love of his life," a cheeky American bulldog named East.
"He thinks he's human," says the chuckling 27-year-old Massachusetts native. "We'll go to the dog park, and he sits on the bench, with the people. And he just looks at the dogs like, 'You idiots. Running around. Rolling in the dirt. Please!' He's just so above it. He's the greatest dog in the world. I can't get enough of him."
Evans, who grew up Catholic but has since embraced Eastern spiritualism, is in the dining room of Toronto's Drake Hotel, chatting about his new science-fiction thriller, Push, in which he co-stars with Dakota Fanning and Camilla Belle. Oblivious to the furtive glances being lobbed his way by some young women in the room, Evans has morphed of late into the go-to guy for directors who want brawn, but not beefcake. He's an actor (Cellular, the Human Torch in the Fantastic Four films) whose heroes have a sensitive, vulnerable side - but can still kick ass.
Good-looking, in a Boston-bred, Matt Damon kind of way, Evans says he's perplexed by how his career has moved into these nice, tough-guy roles. "I don't know how it's happened, to be honest," says Evans, also part of the ensemble in Danny Boyle's 2007 sci-fi thriller Sunshine.
"It's not intentional. It's certainly not deliberate," says the actor, scratching chin scruff. "It's just kind of come that way. But they're not kicking down my door, by any means. These are roles that I still have to go out and compete for.
"I like sci-fi, paranormal stuff, but it's not the top of my list," adds Evans, who dated actress Jessica Biel for several years. "I primarily like stories about family. About friendship. Stories that are just really simple.
"And oddly enough," he says with a laugh, "I've yet to make a movie that is really like that."
In Paul McGuigan's Push (which opened in theatres on Friday), Evans plays Nick Gant, a second-generation telekinetic - or "mover" - who has been in hiding since his father (another mover) was murdered by The Division. When the film starts, Gant is hiding in Hong Kong, trying to stay off the radar of The Division, a shadowy government body hell-bent on transforming citizens into an army of psychic warriors, and murdering those who aren't in sync with their program. Gant meets Cassie Holmes (Fanning) - a "watcher" who can read the future - and the two become the hunters and the hunted as they try to save civilization.
Evans said it was a treat working with the 14-year-old Fanning, who he adds must have grown four inches in the nine months since they shot Push. "I remember hearing her name circling the project, and that definitely sweetened the pot. She's so phenomenal. Having her part of it brings a certain class to the film."
In his spare time, Evans says he and his faithful hound travel back to the East Coast to visit his parents and three siblings, and not long ago - through a "life class" he's part of in Los Angeles (hence the aforementioned spiritualism) - he also journeyed to India's mountainous region in the north.
His decision to take the class, he says, was primarily to find a better way of dealing with the "crazy, sometimes horrible" side of L.A. "It's helping me to manage perception, ego, mind and self. The class tries to present a way of looking at your life, where you focus on staying present and not let your consciousness get out.
"For a while, I foolishly thought that [Hollywood] wouldn't be a difficult thing. Acting is my passion - and I love it - but I believed I'd always have a firm handle on it. I can say, openly and humbly, that over the past few years it's become more difficult. I've thought about moving out of L.A., but for now I'm there, and the work is there. I have great books that I go to on a daily basis just to inject some sanity back."
That said, he adds, some of his greatest friendships have been forged in his nutty business. And he counts Oscar-nominated director Boyle (Slumdog Millionaire) as one of the most exemplary people he's had the fortune to meet - and work with.
"I don't know if you've ever met him, but he's the kindest man in the world. He's genuine. Sincere. And when he speaks to you, he'll look right at you like you're the only person in the room," he says, before interjecting: "Did you know he was going to be a priest?
"The guy just reinvents himself. Whatever he just did, he'll go to the other end of the spectrum [on his next project]and try something completely different. And he nails it every single time. I'm thrilled for him," says Evans, referring to Slumdog Millionaire's 10 nominations for this month's Academy Awards.
"He has the right to everything he's getting right now. He totally deserves it all."
~~*~~
Another earlier Push era interview culled from the archives at the Chris Evans Forum. They're amazing for having kept these older articles around.
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mandela catalogue story thoughts
alright time for more rambles, im gonna explain my understanding of and best guesses about tmc, if anyone sees this who things i got anything wrong or who knows more, please tell i wanna know. so in 1981, the first reports of alternate encounters begin, and the first basic understanding is formed about alternates, with the first warnings broadcast. a couple years before this, a young mark heathcliff is made his "scary night" story, around the intruder, which may have been the first ever report or sighting of an alternate in any form/capacity. then, in (as far as i can tell) a seperate incident, in september 1992, cesar's mum was attacked by an alternate, and so cesar takes her to the hospital and asks mark to head over and turn on the cams. mark does so before leaving, but the alternate was still in the house at the time and followed him home, where it then sat outside his door for days until he y'know, unalived on 15 september 1992. After mark's prolonged absence from school, one of his teachers alerts the police with a voicemail, and thatcher heads over to investigate, and discovers mark's body on 21st september 1992. sometime after this, the situation with the murrays occurs which results in baby adam (would be 3 or 4) being abducted, lynn committing die and jude disappearing in one way or another. personally im running into a lot of what seems like conflicting information in/about this section so i cant yet clearly understand the timeline, but that's the result. somewhere along the line, an investigator attempts to check out the house but 'pussies out', however a volunteer is able to set up some in house cameras, though despite what we see in intruder alert, thatcher doesnt see any anomalies with the findings and so has to conduct an investigation with weaver. when they check the house out, the alternate created by adam whilst watching stanley on the tv is still there, and kills weaver during the investigation. thatcher then flees for the station, but the alternate follows him there, and assaults and assimilates him as we see in the end of 333, though thatcher doesnt seem to be physically injured by the encounter, only mentally. following this, thatcher goes into hiding in an attempt to escape the alternate, and because of this, we think everyone else assumes he is dead.
in 2007, mark's sister, sarah, who was only 3 at the time of mark's death, starts the bythorne paranormal club in an attempt to understand more about what happened to her brother. adam, now 19, joins the club as well, bc he freaky as fuck idk what the hell going on with that guy im ngl, but i think the abduction might have a part in why he's like this, and he might have been under the guise of even gabriel/false shepard/literal devil himself when he was missing, although that said he failed the toddler assessment review before this even happened so i dont think we have enough info yet. anyway, him and sarah conduct their first mission on 14-15 july 2007, in which adam makes shit get crazy and sarah decides "yk what, ill just do admin and look at results instead of getting them myself", and so adam hires jonah as his new partner. vol 2 then takes place in mid january of 2009, resulting in the death of jonah but not adam, who walks for miles in the cold so he can steal his dead friends car lmao. and i dont fully understand what happens with him and the guy at the end of 4 tbh, thats the one part i cant come up with a theory for. all i know is that he is absolutely the mandela prophet.
meanwhile, evelin looks through dave's tapes, and i think the reason dave always wears sunglasses is because they protect from the effects of the alternates interacting with those tapes. knowing that evelin wouldnt have looked at these tapes with shades, he is kinda forced into firing her,or at least not being around her too much, as she could theoretically summon an alternate to their location at any time with the wrong stimuli. however during this time, dave has been speaking with a friend named o'brien, who has effectively been opening dave's eyes to the potential wonders of life outside of chasing alternates, and because of this dave decides to basically retire from the alternate stuff. eventually he agrees to meet o'brien outside of the church, to intiate whatever post-alternate plan they had been working on, and so he phones thatcher on short notice and just tells him that he's leaving. imo this is going to be a big fucking problem for thatcher, as he doesn't know nearly as much as dave did about alternates and might struggle to go alone, with potentially only evelin to work with. oh and also there is now an all powerful being after him. either way, dave goes to meet o'brien outside the church, however to his absolute fucking horror, o'brien was actually gabriel all along, posing as a friend to deter him from learning too much about the alternates, and most importantly luring him right into gabriel's trap - despite his wealth of knowledge and experience with alternates, he still managed to follow the shepard. ok i definitely missed some detail stuff but i think this gets the majority of the important plot points, even if theyre probably all horribly wrong lmao. if anyone wants to correct me on stuff or tell me things i might not know, go ahead!
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A Brief History of Magnificent Bird
In the aftermath of a year off the internet, I’ve become low-key obsessed with Lewis Hyde’s book The Gift, in which he argues that the movement of a gift—or a work of art—from one individual to another helps to define the community in which the gift or artwork circulates.
Today, my fifth album, Magnificent Bird, is released into the world, and it is, for me, most fundamentally, an expression of my community. There are no hired guns: only musicians whom I cherish as much for their humanity and friendship as I do for their artistry. So I thought it would be appropriate to mark the unveiling of this project with a little history & chronology of a dozen-and-a-half musical relationships that have made this record possible.
1989 - At our respective homes in Rochester, New York, Ted Poor and I play boogie-woogie duets: me on piano, Ted on drums. We’re also on the same Little League team; he often plays first-base, I’m over at shortstop for a quick 6-3 on a ground ball to the left side of the infield. Twenty-five years later, he plays drums in The Ambassador, my first piece for the Brooklyn Academy of Music. Ted was so incredibly generous on this project, recording 3,287 versions of “Hot Pink Raingear” before we arrived at the approach heard on the album. His sense of rhythm lights a room, and he is my oldest friend — not just on this LP, but in life.
2006 - The Nickel Creek bus drops Chris Thile (as well as Sean and Sara Watkins) at my parents’ house in Santa Rosa, California. We start playing music at around 1am. Fifteen years, hundreds of cups of coffee, and dozens of alcohol-fueled arguments about the “correct” approach to rhythm in the music of J.S. Bach later, Chris is one of my closest friends, and also a hero. We all know what a monster, once-in-a-generation talent he is. What is maybe less apparent is the insane work ethic that undergirds his seemingly effortless command of his instrument, an ethic I got to witness up close while opening some 60 shows for Punch Brothers. The only person whose approach to rhythm is as continually mind-boggling as Ted Poor’s is Chris’, hence the mando-drums on “To Be American.”
2007 - I meet Alex Sopp through her new music ensemble, yMusic. I will forever be spoiled by the fact that she’s the first flutist I work with: her tone singing, her sense of phrase totally intuitive and poetic. Over the course of fifteen years, we share with each other many, many, many photographs of our cats. Her collaborative spirit was evident in her work on this album: for “Hot Pink Raingear,” I asked if she could play a synth riff on some “messed up whistles and flutes,” and she sent back, thirty-six hours later, fourteen different tracks of various antique wind instruments. I wish I had kept all of it for you to hear, but sometimes less is more.
2008 (part one) - I hear Elizabeth Ziman sing at a tiny cafe in Park Slope, Brooklyn. I am instantly in love with her voice and songwriting. I would happily listen to her sing tax returns or technical manuals or the transcripts of municipal water supply hearings; she is magic. Somehow, after an almost fifteen year friendship, this is the first time we’ve worked together on record; her singing on “Sit Shiva” is, for me, what makes the song.
2008 (part two) - Outside a rural elementary school in Switzerland, I am approached by a young man, who, seeing my banjo case, announces that he “plays folk music, too.” It’s Paul Kowert, who that autumn would join Punch Brothers as its bassist. Years later, we travel around the country while I’m opening for his band, playing chess over coffee, getting lost on long walks in unfamiliar cities, talking endlessly about music. He is a one of the most supremely gifted bass players of our time.
2009 - Holcombe Waller and I are set up on a West Coast co-bill tour by a friend who warns me that Holcombe is extremely flamboyant. I write to Holcombe, and in a postscript, mention—sort of in jest, sort of not—that I’m 18% gay. He writes back, “I’ve worked with less.” A friendship is born. Need help understanding obscure financial instruments or fledgling cryptocurrencies? Ask Holcombe. Need a quick tutorial on the history of energy policy in the Northwest? Ask Holcombe. Need the most sublime falsetto (but also booming bass-baritone) you’ve ever heard? Ask Holcombe. Happily, we now live less than a mile from one another in Northeast Portland. Holcombe, can I borrow some sugar??
2010 (part one) - I’m playing a gig in upstate New York accompanied by a string quartet. At soundcheck, one of the violinists mentions that she “writes a little music, too.” Next thing I know, that kind and quiet musician—Caroline Shaw—has won the Pulitzer Prize. Over the years, we email with eccentric frequency about Lunchables (can’t remember how that one started), and have occasionally appeared together in concert. What I admire most about Caroline is the absolute honesty of her music. Many of us work for years building up artifice, then tearing it down. Not Caro: she knows, and seems always to have known, who she is. When I first heard her overdubs for the record, I cried.
2010 (part two) - Casey Foubert and I have known each other for a few years when he begins to mix my second album, Where are the Arms. Working on that record reveals to me the uncanny depth of Casey’s musical knowledge, spanning, as it does, obscure 60’s piano-driven folk-pop to free jazz. One of the most versatile and multivalent artists I’ve ever encountered, Casey is the only musician who has played on all of my records (with the exception of Book of Travelers, which is just me). He’s also a profoundly curious person, and a super generous spirit. He now lives with his family in rural Illinois, and I love that there’s a bit of that energy on this album.
2011 - It’s a dark and dreary evening in Peterborough, NH, when I find myself sitting at the piano in a little cabin, singing standards with a young woman named Amelia Meath. We keep in touch here and there, and then a few years later, I hear a band called Sylvan Esso and think, that voice sounds familiar! Over the last few years, Amelia and I have had long, deep phone calls about everything from literature to TikTok to systemic racism to the music biz. She encouraged me, while we were working on “Linda & Stuart,” to embrace the cognitive dissonance between the cheerful groove and the sense of grief that pervades the lyric.
2014 (part one) - Driving from the Denver Airport, Chris Morrissey tells me that he does a great BBC newscaster impression. I immediately try to one-up him. (Mine is better.) Every year on his birthday, to commemorate my small victory of superior British dialect, I leave Chris a three-minute voicemail in a preposterous BBC voice. Chris is a complete musician, and a complete human. One of the things that drew me to him when we first met was how emotionally available he was. So glad he’s on this joint.
2014 (part two) - A recording studio in New Jersey. yMusic has a new cellist on the session. We get through one take of my arrangement of Beck’s “Mutilation Rag,” for the Song Reader album, and Gabriel Cabezas, maybe 22 years old, says, without a trace of attitude or ostentation, “oh, this is a twelve-tone row, right?” What a punk! One memorable night years later ends drunkenly at my house, where we cook both carbonara and cacio e pepe after a long conversation about how the best pasta sauces are emulsified using the cooking water.
2014 (part three) - I’m not sure that the classroom at the fancy private school in Laguna Beach, California, was where I first met Joseph Lorge, but it sticks out in my memory for some reason. He’s there with a friend of his, a songwriter, who performs two beautiful songs as part of a master class that I was giving. By 2017, Joseph has become indispensable to my process as a studio artist. He records and mixes Book of Travelers, and acts as mix engineer and house psychologist during this project. He is tall and shy, quietly hilarious, with a heart of gold. His ears and imagination are astonishing; without him, this record would not exist.
2015 - In the lobby of the newly opened Ordway Theatre in St. Paul, Minnesota, I am accosted by a blonde man with a cheerful face and intense eyes. “I have a question to ask you,” he says, betraying the slightest hint of a Northern European accent. “On your song ‘Charming Disease,’ from your album Where are the Arms, is it three clarinets or one claviola that appear suddenly in the second verse?” This was Pekka Kuusisto, a true magician of the violin, and one of my dearest friends. I have fond memories from 2019 (“the before times”) of walking down to the water—his house in Finland sits against the Baltic Sea—in nothing but towels, freezing our asses off before retreating to the warmth of his wood sauna, which I guess is what Finns do in February? When his violin enters halfway through the tune, I feel the chill of that numinous, Scandinavian wind insinuate itself into the harmonic field.
2016 (part one) - St. Paul, again! Sam Amidon and I have known each other for a decade by this point, but it’s over burritos at Chipotle that we bond for real, talking about our shared love of Herman Melville and obscure jazz records. If I’m reading a great book, Sam is often the first person I want to tell. In a world brimming with highly individualized voices, Sam’s artistry—from his singing voice to his banjo and fiddle playing—stands out for its idiosyncrasies and emotional depth.
2016 (part two) - On a tour bus somewhere in Montana, Andrew Bird and I get to talking about how folk and orchestral music can coexist. A few years later, we work closely on Time Is A Crooked Bow, a cycle I orchestrated comprising six of his songs. Getting to hear him sing every night was a real master class. Andrew has magnetic rock star energy, but he is also a kind, gentle, quiet and deeply thoughtful soul. And no one plucks the violin quite the way he does. When I wrote the riff he plays on “To Be American,” I knew it had to be him.
2017 - From time to time, I head uptown to hear the NY Philharmonic. One evening, I’m hypnotized by a sound—serene, expressive, otherworldly— emanating from from the principal clarinet chair. Eventually I muster the nerve to write to Anthony McGill and tell him what I huge fan I am. It’s thrilling when he tells me that he knows my music and would love to do something together. And now, at last, we have.
2019 - Nathalie Joachim sends me mixes of her album Fanm D’ayiti. It is so damn gorgeous. We’ve been casual acquaintances for five years at this point, but now I am *a fan*. Over the course of the pandemic, we talk more frequently, counseling each other about the various challenges of being an artist in these confounding times. She joins the Creative Alliance with the Oregon Symphony, where I serve as Creative Chair. This June, the Oregon Symphony will present the world premiere of an orchestral song cycle drawn from Nathalie’s album that made such an impression. The combination of Nathalie & Alex on the title track, along with Holcombe’s vocal feature, has me feeling that my cup truly runneth over.
Appendix A:
Tony Berg is a joyous contrarian whom I’ve known for a dozen years, during which time he has shown me only generosity of spirit, resources, and wisdom. He co-produced Book of Travelers (which we recorded at his old home studio in LA), and was an indispensable early sounding board for the songs on this album. And now he’s got a dog named Bing-Bong. How about that?
Having said all that, may I remind you that tour begins on Monday?
The workings of the music business are murkier than ever, but the bottom line is that even an art-house oasis like Nonesuch can’t afford to keep putting out interesting music if no one is paying for it. I’m so grateful to all of you for your continued support, and hope you’ll consider picking up a copy of the record in one format or another if you’ve not yet done so.
All my best, and hope to see you at a gig in the next few months,
Gabriel
#andrew bird#chris thile#caroline shaw#sylvan esso#anthony mcgill#pekka kuusisto#nathalie joachim#paul kowert#punch brothers#elizabeth and the catapult#ymusic#sam amidon#ted poor#chris morrissey#holcombe waller#alex sopp#gabriel cabezas#casey foubert#joseph lorge#nonesuch#new music#art song#song cycle#gabriel kahane
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