#sixties journal
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kitsunetsuki · 7 months ago
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Lord Snowdon - Britt Ekland, from The British Journal of Photography Annual (1966)
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cleopatragirlie · 4 months ago
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❀ 𝐉𝐨𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐧 ❀
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thegikitiki · 1 month ago
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One Calorie, Zero Taste...
Detail from 1966 Tab Cola Magazine Advertisement
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unstablerk800 · 6 months ago
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|| It's not obsession. It's ✨️lifestyle✨️. 💅
The blonde one is totally my Sixty from Soulless. 🥰
Replaying from episode Spare Parts because the program I use for recording captured my background instead of the game. 🤦🏻‍♀️ But I'm having fun! 💙
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timeisacephalopod · 2 years ago
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Regarding that true crime post I just made if y'all want an incredibly well put together true crime podcast look up Unreformed: The Story of the Alabama Industrial School for Negro Children. It's put together by Josie Duffy Rice and I'll warn you there's hideous racism and child abuse of all kinds, the school reminds me of what Canada did to Indigenous children and gets compared by the press in the sixties to a concentration camp, but it's an incredible story with interviews from victims of the school and the OG whistleblower who eventually became important in some reforms at the school even if he had hell to pay for it and was still, in a lot of ways, complicit in participating in the abuses at the school by transporting children to it but his complicated nature makes him quite compelling. And the adult victims- it's horrifying that this kind of thing went on such a short time ago that first hand victims are still more than alive and well to talk about it.
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monkeyssalad-blog · 19 hours ago
Video
1963 illustration by Fairbairn
flickr
1963 illustration by Fairbairn by totallymystified Via Flickr: For the story The Moonflower Vine by Jetta Carleton. From Woman's Journal.
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roadkilledretard · 5 months ago
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god i fucking love. this one oc. hes an ancient forest spirit whos fed up with all the supernatural chaos being enacted upon the non magical world, so hes working against the othet supernatural creatures. however, when the humans (the main characters) get upset at him he turns into this petty bitch like "well no, you left so until you rejoin me im gonna be like them. its not like anyone can even find the town right now" like omgggg hes so self motivated <333 when he was human he probably had a crazy addiction to something idk what (probably alc tbh)
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hustlemeanokay · 2 years ago
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Some retro journals I got done this week :D Both journals are 200 pages and are $11.99 USD soft cover.
Good Vibes Floral Journal
Vibes Vintage Style Journal
Retro Rhythm & Music Journal
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peacock082 · 2 years ago
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Sixty Shadow Work Prompts #3
Sixty Shadow Work Prompts #3
Write about a time you felt let down by someone you’d previously looked up to. My manager disappointed me. She always reassured me I was never alone, and that she supported me. When I reported a supervisor who was inducing massive anxiety attacks, she sided with the supervisor and humiliated me. I thought she was a better, stronger woman; and I defended her when people bashed her. I can…
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susandsnell · 6 months ago
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TV!Daniel Molloy is maybe the character of all time. He's a two-time Pulitzer Prize winner. He teaches journalism classes. He's a recovering addict. He spends two seasons with super-powerful centuries-old vampires he thinks tried to either fuck him or kill him or both in either order fifty years ago and spends the entirety of that time ridiculing their traumas. He's a boomer. He's the funniest bitch alive. He's a terrible husband and father. He's a virulent misogynist. He's a staunch defender of Claudia, the most sympathetic vampire by far. He's a gothic heroine in the body of a crochety grandpa. He's going to be sixty-nine for the rest of eternity. He's even a repressed homosexual.
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lanitalay · 6 months ago
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When a High Lord is powerless.
summary: Eris x human reader, reader is sick, Eris is freaking out.
a/n: since i'm just getting over a sickness I wrote this to feel better about myself. enjoy
Warnings: none
wordcount: 1.1k
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Eris pulled at his hair, helpless at the scene before him.
You were sick. The night before you told him it was a “common cold.” 
“It’s a human thing I guess, since you ethereal fae don’t ever get the sniffles.” 
He had never been around anyone ill. Fae got injured. Accelerated healing made it so only deadly blows would do any real harm. But it was never anything invisible that would wound, it was magic, blades, fire. Yesterday you had been perfect. Eris listed the things he saw you do in his mind: breakfast, ride through the groves, read, play a game of chess… all the usual things that kept you busy. 
“High Lord, I beg, don’t touch the High Lady. She has a very high fever and we must lower her temperature.” The words were a blow to his gut. A contradiction to the very instincts that urged him forward, closer to you. 
“High Lord, please.” The healer looked at him with wide eyes. He could not find malice in them, only worry to match his own. “What can I do?” 
The healer sighed and wiped her brow. “If you could find ice, it would help the fever.” 
He nodded, exiting the room at once. In all his years his magic, his fire had never been the cause of his self loathing. It was the fire that kept him going in the dark days when Beron was alive. The same fire that kept you warm in the cold Autumn nights when you first arrived was now aggravating the monster that ravaged your body. 
He winnowed to the border with Winter as soon as he stepped out of your chambers. Scooping chunks of ice and snow and praying to whatever gods might hear him that it would be enough. That they might spare you. 
Would a god implore him in a bargain? Your health for his magic. If it would bring you harm when you needed help he would be rid of it entirely. Or perhaps his immortality. There’s no him without you, not anymore. He might trade his lifespan for a human one. You’ve said that you have sixty years if you’re lucky. That would be enough… what god might- “Oh thank the Cauldron you found some! The ice in the kitchens ran out.” The healer yanks the bag from him and begins to coat your body in the frigid substance. You moan, discomfort rousing you from sleep. 
“Eris… where is he-”
“I’m right here, love.” Your hand reaches for his, but the healers instructions were clear. Heat would worsen your condition and he was a walking furnace. “I’m right here, the healers say the cold will help with the fever.”
“I don’t- I don’t like this Eris, I’m cold. Hold me, please…” He can’t stand it. The paleness of your skin, the heaviness in your eyes and the dark circles beneath. Your teeth are chattering. He steps closer. “High Lord! She is merely uncomfortable, the ice is helping. Please try to remain calm.”
He fumes. “Then make her comfortable! She’s your High Lady! If harm comes her way I will not hesitate-”
“Don’t yell, my darling. I’m alright… just a bit cold is all.” Your voice is barely a whisper as it slaps him across the face.
“I apologize, I’m worried about my mate.”
The healer huffs in acknowledgement and returns to her ministrations. “It’s just a cold Eris, I’ll be fine by tomorrow. Back in the Human Lands my mother would make me broth and I’d be back to normal.” 
“What kind of broth?” 
Then he was in the kitchen. No cooks were on duty in the middle of the night so he followed a recipe from a book, which he ignored a soon as he foud a medicinal journal. He boiled anything he could find with healing properties to make an unappetizing broth but at the very least it would help your body fight. 
“This smells terrible.”
“Humor me.” You gag as you get another whiff but manage to down a few sips. The lukewarm liquid soothes your throat so, against your tastebuds screaming otherwise, you sigh in relief. “Is that better?” 
You nod and give him a quarter of a smile. 
“Is there nothing else I can do?” 
“You can brush my hair.” Eris looks towards the healer for her approval. “So long as you only touch her with a brush, it should be fine, High Lord.”
He  massages your scalp with the soft bristles of the brush andthen proceeds to rid your hair of the tangles being in bed had caused. If he was being honest, it looked like a bird’s nest. He’s as gentle as he can, and a loud snore makes his heart jump to his throat. You’d fallen asleep again. 
“Her fever is better, I will return by sunrise to check again. If anything happens please do not hesitate to call, High Lord.” 
“Thank you, Willa.” She nods and pats him on the shoulder. “She’ll be fine, my Lord.”
It’s morning when Eris wakes up in the chair beside your bed. A sneeze that startled both of you was his good morning. “I need a handkerchief.” You request while covering your nose and mouth with your hands. Eris digs into his pocket and gives you his. “Don’t look at me while do this, sweetheart.”
“Why not?” 
You roll your eyes and just urge him to “look away!” He does and what follows in a wet, squelching sound he cannot imagine is coming from the beautiful creature on the bed. “All done,” you say in a defeated tone. The energy you had gathered from sleep had been wiped out by a sneeze and a blow of the nose. 
“How are you feeling?” It takes you a while to reply as you cuddle up closer to the pillows substituting Eris’ body. “A bit better, I suppose.” 
“You said you’d be back to normal today.” What if you had taken a turn for the worse? Had the fever been too much?
“It’s not an exact science, my love. But my throat doesn’t hurt anymore, so I am better.” 
  “You’ll be the death of me I swear.” You reach your hand out to his. He hesitates. 
“I don’t have a fever anymore, hold my hand.” He has no power agaisnt his mate and has been craving your touch for hours. Your hand is icy in his, but its just as soft as he remembers it. “See, I’m right here, not going anywhere yet.” 
Yet. Because you had your days numbered, illness or not. He would never be ready to part. Never wants to face eternity with out you. So he reaches out to the gods again, hoping at least one would take up his bargain.
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kitsunetsuki · 5 months ago
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Michael Barnett - The British Journal of Photography Annual (1969)
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cleopatragirlie · 7 days ago
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thegikitiki · 14 days ago
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Attic Bedroom Design & Decor, 1966
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unstablerk800 · 1 year ago
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|| @mxrvelouscreations you and Kamski made it in my fucking Bullet Journal duh
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volkswagonblues · 2 months ago
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a bibliography for us Daniel Malloy freaks
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(a loosely pulled-together reading list about print journalism, New York, the 1970s & 80's, and the AIDS Crisis. Most of the credit goes to @islandbetweenrivers who started this)
On Daniel Molloy, California Boy
The show never explicitly states if Daniel went to college, but since college students were exempt from the Vietnam draft, which ended officially in 1973, it could be interesting to imagine Daniel in Berkeley.
Slouching Toward Bethlehem by Joan Didion
The White Album by Joan Didion
Berkeley Barb archives (link) -- weekly underground newspaper that ran in Berkeley between '65 to '80
The Daily Cal First 150 Years (link) -- student newspaper at Berkeley
On Journalism
Iphigenia in Forest Hills by Janet Malcolm
From her reporter's seat, Malcolm observes that a trial is merely "a contest between competing narratives". (Guardian review)
The Journalist and the Murderer by Janet Malcolm
“"Every journalist who is not too stupid or too full of himself to notice what is going on knows that what he does is morally indefensible," wrote Malcolm in an opening sentence that caused a sensation in the tiny, self-referential world of posh American journalism.” (Guardian review)
The Freaks Came Out to Write: The Definitive History of the Village Voice by Trisha Romano
“The Voice’s origins were proudly amateurish. One early contributor was a homeless man recruited from a local street; equipment consisted of two battered typewriters, an ink-splattering mimeograph machine and a waste paper basket for rejected submissions. Morale spiked when a staff member discovered that dried pods used in fancy flower arrangements contained opium, which was boiled up in the office when the time came for a coffee break.” (Guardian review)
Note: The Village Voice was THE alt-weekly newspaper and it was run out of Greenwich Village in NYC. Lots of incredible writers start there and then move onto the Times, Vanity Fair, etc. Very much the sort of crowd a young Daniel would be mixed in circa 70's and 80's.
The Night of the Gun, by David Carr
David Carr redefines memoir with the revelatory story of his years as an addict and chronicles his journey from crack-house regular to regular columnist for The New York Times. Built on sixty videotaped interviews, legal and medical records, and three years of reporting, The Night of the Gun is a ferocious tale that uses the tools of journalism to fact-check the past. (amazing rec from @archive-z)
Note: imagine if Daniel did this and then fact-checked his way into remembering that vampires existed
Rogues: True Stories of Grifters, Killers, Rebels and Crooks by Patrick Radden Keefe
Keefe can paint complicated portraits of victims and vigilantes alike while covering their lonely pursuit of justice. He intuits why a Dutch woman who has exposed the crimes of her gangster brother might lie about her present whereabouts. He understands why a man who lost his brother in an aeroplane bombing might spend the rest of his life trying to find the culprit. Again and again, Keefe surmises that even the most detailed of investigations can only speculate about human motives. (Guardian review)
Note: the sort of deeply human longform profiles that feels like the sort of writing Daniel does, based on his masterclass clip and what he reveals in his interactions with Louis
On New York, New York (in the 70s)
Notes from Underground, by Eric Bogosian + Perforated Heart, by Eric Bogosian
In four billion years the sun will explode. But before that we'll run out of fresh water and before that we'll all die of some mutation of AIDS that's spread by coughing. It's not my fault anyway. I can't think about this any more today. I'm going to masturbate.
Note: The OG. What else is there to say.
Ladies and Gentleman, the Bronx is Burning: 1977, Baseball, Politics, and the Battle for the Soul of a City by Jonathan Mahler
In the long sweep of American history, of course, 1977 is not exactly 1865, 1941, 1968 or 2001. Yet from porn shops to gay bathhouses, from Yankee Stadium to City Hall, from the blackout to Son of Sam, from Rupert Murdoch's New York Post to the rise of SoHo and Studio 54, the city was living through what Mahler convincingly calls "a transformative moment . . . a time of decay but of rehabilitation as well.” (New York Times review)
Remain in Love: Talking Heads, Tom Tom Club, Tina, by Chris Franz (2020)
Frantz’s account of the early days, when the Heads lived in the pre-gentrified Lower East Side of New York, an almost literal war zone. While searching for a loft to live in, they viewed one building that was on fire. One spring afternoon, Frantz walked over to the now-legendary club CBGB to ask for a gig. The place smelt of “beer, roach spray, dog doo [the owner, Hilly Kristal, had a free-roaming saluki] and Chanel No 5”.
Winter’s Journal, by Paul Auster
Note: To me, Auster is one of the closest real-life Daniel Malloy analogues: born around 1950, literary career in NYC, moved to Paris in the 1970s for a few years, troubled middle-class background. Novelist though, not a journalist. There’s an anecdote in this book about a car crash that feels like a deadass Devil’s Minion fever dream. Crazy stuff. One of my personal favourites
On the AIDS Crisis
And the Band Played On, by Randy Shilts
The book chronicles the discovery and spread of the human immunodeficiency virus (HIV) and acquired immune deficiency syndrome (AIDS) with a special emphasis on government indifference and political infighting—specifically in the United States—to what was then perceived as a specifically gay disease
The Journalist of Castro Street: The Life of Randy Shilts, by Andrew E. Stoner
Biography of Randy Shilts that’s very helpful for imagining Daniel in the early 1980s newsrooms covering Karposi’s sarcoma
How to Survive a Plague: The Story of How Activists and Scientists Tamed AIDS by David France (2017)
It’s not easy to balance solid journalism with intimate understanding of a subject, and even harder to write eloquently about a disease that’s killing your friends and loved ones. France pulls it off, in his own words (his description of finding a college roommate’s panel in the AIDS Memorial Quilt is heartbreaking) and in letting his articulate sources speak for themselves. (SF Gate review)
Timeline of AIDS (link)
Overview of HIV (link)
And some films, just for fun
The Panic in Needle Park (1971): Drama film directed by Jerry Schatzberg. Al Pacino is a heroin addict and small-time dealer in Manhattan who falls in love with another addict.
Serpico (1973): biographical crime drama film directed by Sidney Lumet. Al Pacino is a hippie cop (yes, I know, its part of the plot) with one foot in the 1970s bohemian art scene
American Graffiti (1973): teen movie set in 1973 Modesto ("I'm just a shitty kid from Modesto"--Danny Malloy)
The Taking of Pelham 123 (1974): More grimy 1970s NYC stuff
All the President’s Men (1976): THE ABSOLUTE JOURNALISM MOVIE??
Star Wars: A New Hope (1977)
Cruising (1980): 1980 crime thriller written and directed by William Friedkin. Al Pacino is a cop (again) but this time he goes undercover in NYC gay leather clubs
Almost Famous (2000): Set in 1973, it chronicles the funny and often poignant coming of age of 15-year-old William, an unabashed music fan who gets the chance to write for Rolling Stone
Spotlight (2015): More journalism movies! The true story of how the Boston Globe uncovered the massive scandal of child molestation and cover-up within the local Catholic Archdiocese
everyone say thank you to @islandbetweenrivers for starting this, I just polished up our google docs and posted it on tumblr.
Also if anyone has something to add please let me know!
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