#so we checked out paint on win 11 (not my choice exactly to get win 11 - main complaint is how much generative ai is prompted)

[shireness-says]

Swan’s Seven (4/?)

Summary: After two years behind bars, Emma’s out, and she’s got a plan in mind. Now to put together the perfect team… Let’s stage an art heist. (A CS Ocean’s 8 AU) ~3.9K. Rated T for language. Also on AO3. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

~~~~~

A/N: Hello, all. It’s been a while on this one. 11 months, nearly to the day. Word to the wise: don’t sign up for six writing events all at once. The good news is there’s not a lot to refresh on, if you need the refresher! The gist: we’re robbing an art galley, and CS are trying to come back from starting out on the wrong foot.

Thanks, as always, to @snidgetsafan​​ for beta-ing, and to YOU ALL for being so patient with me.

Tags: @optomisticgirl​, @spartanguard​, @profdanglaisstuff​, @captainsjedi​, @thisonesatellite​, @thejollyroger-writer​, @let-it-raines​, @teamhook​, @kmomof4​, @snowbellewells​, @searchingwardrobes​, @winterbaby89​, @scientificapricot​, @superchocovian​​, @welllpthisishappening​​, @ohmightydevviepuu​​. Shoot me a message if you want to be added/taken off the list.

And a last note: last September, @spartanguard​​ made some AMAZING fan art for me! Check it out and give her love, if you haven’t already!

Enjoy - and let me know what you think!

~~~~~

Emma makes her living off of first impressions and gut feelings. She’s a career con; those feelings can keep you alive and out of jail. Emma prides herself on rarely being wrong, with few (if spectacular - looking at you, Neal) exceptions.

Perhaps that’s why it rankles so much that she finds herself liking Killian Jones - it’s an admittance that her first impression, that he was nothing but a cocky bastard there to undermine her, was wrong. But underneath that seems to be a kind man, a polite and chivalrous one, a man who held the door for Elsa this morning and is currently with Belle unwrapping some kind of machine for replicating bronzes, as promised, the both of them displaying near-childlike glee at the new toy. It’s a side of him that Emma hadn’t expected to see, given those first few disastrous interactions.

(The side of him, so to speak, that Emma is treated to watching Killian bend over the box isn’t half bad either.)

A low whistle sounds from over Emma’s shoulder where she leans against the bar, almost as if she conjured it into existence. That’s not the case, of course; Ruby may be practicing her drink mixing before she starts at Robin’s tomorrow, plying them all with dangerously strong cocktails in the process, but as far as Emma’s aware, the saucy brunette isn’t any sort of mindreader. 

“Damn if that’s not a pretty sight,” Ruby comments with a smirk as she measures out a hefty shot of vodka. “I love a man who can fill out a pair of jeans right.”

“I thought you were more interested in a woman who can fill out a pair of jeans right.” It’s not a criticism - just, apparently, a significant misread on Emma’s part. Another one. 

Or not. “Baby, I’m not picky,” Ruby winks. “I like everyone. Just say the word if you’re ever interested.”

“Not really looking - especially not if it mixes business with pleasure - but I’ll keep it in mind. Thanks, Ruby.”

Ruby hums. “That mean you won’t ever make a move on Jones?”

“Why would I ever want to make a move on Jones?” Emma snorts.

Ruby just shrugs in response. “I don’t know. You two have got that charged tension going on. It’s a lot more fun to fuck it out than fight it out. You can’t deny he’s easy on the eyes, either - I’ve seen you looking.”

It’s a little too late to claim she was watching where Regina and Elsa hover over a laptop, monitoring the feed from Tink’s glasses from her first day at her new internship. That just leaves sarcasm to fall back on - always a solid choice. “Yeah, well, I’ve been in a women’s prison for two years. Can’t blame a red-blooded American woman for looking.”

“I’ll let you pretend that’s all it is. For now.” As if to accentuate, Ruby slides a bright aqua cocktail across the counter. “Enjoy your Blue Motherfucker.”

(Emma didn’t order the cocktail by any stretch of the imagination, but damn, does that burn feel good going down.)

Liquid courage doesn’t have anything to do with the way she saunters over to meet Killian where he hunches over an instruction manual. At the sound of her boots on the industrial concrete, his head snaps to attention, turning to meet her face to face. 

“What can I do for you, Swan?” he asks with that smirk she’s learning is just an affectation. She thinks it might be armor, the same way she wears her red leather jacket; warn everyone away and you won’t get hurt. 

“What are you up to tomorrow?”

“Depends. What are you about to propose?”

“How about you and I have a little date at an art gallery?”

———

“Not that I don’t appreciate your efforts, darling,” Killian murmurs in her ear, “but next time - I plan the date.”

“You seem awfully sure that there will be another date,” Emma snarks back. “Think highly of yourself, don’t you? And I’m not your darling.”

“What can I say, love - I can’t help that I’m devilishly handsome and charming. I’ve found it a winning combination.”

“Not your love, either.”

It’s not actually a date - just something intended to look like one. To anyone else at the gallery, they look like a pair of lovers, whispering sweet nothings to each other as they observe the masterpieces. All the while, Elsa observes exactly where the boundaries of each video camera lie from her computer back at the Poison Apple as Emma and Killian slink past corners with a faux-smitten giggle or tug on the lapel of a leather jacket. 

“You are aware that we can hear you, right?” Regina drawls in the hidden earpiece they both wear.

“As if I could ever forget you, Madame Mills,” Killian replies smoothly. “I must say, I wouldn’t normally invite someone else along on an afternoon romantic excursion, but if the lovely Swan enjoys someone else listening in to… shall we say, private moments, then I am happy to —”

“So help me God, if you finish that sentence, I will remove your balls with my pocket knife,” Emma interrupts. 

“Ah, so you like them quiet too.” At her sharp look - one she’s sure could cut through steel if she just tried hard enough - Killian bows his head in concession. “I’ll stop, if only for the sake of my anatomy.”

“Good decision.”

“And I’ll repeat, we can hear you,” Regina snaps into their earpieces. 

(Emma will never admit that in the midst of the banter, she forgot.)

“Alright, Your Majesty, don’t get your knickers in a twist.” Killian’s voice isn’t exactly soothing, but it’s something approaching conciliatory. Emma just hopes the cameras aren’t so good as to see the way he winks, completely contradicting his words.

“How’s it going, Elsa?” Emma asks under her breath, hoping to change the subject. Turning things back towards the reason she and Killian are here in the first place. 

“Just fine, Emma,” Elsa’s calm voice trails through the ear piece. “The cameras up front will be… somewhat trickier to manipulate just due to sheer numbers, as you can imagine, but doable. I’ll work on dissecting their alarm system on the displayed paintings next. I would appreciate a closer pass around the doors to the staff-only areas, if you don’t mind terribly.”

“Not at all.”

Slowly, they make their way towards Elsa’s directed areas, keeping a leisurely pace and making sure to stop and briefly examine the works on the walls as they go, maintaining their facade as a somewhat distracted young couple. Jones pauses for a particularly long time to examine an impressionistic landscape Emma won’t pretend to recognize without the assistance of the side label she has no intention of looking at. By all appearances, he sees something in there that she doesn’t.

“Shopping, are we?” she leans up to whisper in his ear. It’s not flirting, not really; not real flirting anyways. It’s just all for show, and Emma? Well, she’s a born actress when it comes to a con. 

“‘Fraid I don’t have the space on my walls, darling,” he smirks. “Ask me again in a few weeks, maybe I’ll have a bigger, better place. In the meantime, just admiring the colors.”

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for an art enthusiast,” Emma comments as they finally saunter into the particular camera’s range, extracting the gallery guide from her back jeans pocket to give herself a reason to stop.

“I’m not. Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate it from an amateur standpoint.” He leans in close - for show, of course, all for show - to whisper back in her own ear. “Now let’s hurry up and finish so we can get out of here.”

Emma tosses him a sideways look. “This may seem like a date, but you’re not getting lucky, buddy.”

“And I’d never presume as such. Now, Elsa, what else do you need?”

“A round by the other staff doors, and then just a final pass by the front guard’s desk, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, lass.”

Killian may be an annoyance, but he really does make a good partner for this kind of thing. Two people on a date is a good reason to stop, to linger, especially in inappropriate places and at inappropriate times. And Jones? Jones is a master of suggestive smirks and flirtatious gazes whose salacious intimacy turns guards’ eyes away. By all appearances, they’re two people going through the motions of a date and just biding their time before some more enjoyable activities - at least on his side. 

Emma is fine playing along; it’s easy enough to make the effort to linger in his space - all for appearances, of course - and create little affectionate touches. Hell, it’s even fun to slip her hand into the back pocket of Killian’s jeans and imprint to her memory the way he tries so hard not to jump in surprise at the gesture. But all the while, her mind is elsewhere - cataloging entrance and exit routes, taking note of pieces they’ll want to target, and remembering the faces of the guards to relay to Ruby later. This is work, not fun time; any enjoyment she might be finding is secondary to their goals.

“You can relax now, Swan,” Killian comments once they’ve finally made their way back outside and down the block, tapping at his earpiece to turn it off while Emma does the same. She’s had rather enough of Regina’s particular brand of sarcasm today. 

“I’m always relaxed,” she all but snaps back. It rather undermines her own point, but whatever.

“Oh yes, that’s so clearly evidenced by the set of your shoulders. Tell me, are they supposed to sit quite that high and tense?”

Carefully, she makes sure to relax her posture. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Hmm. I’m sure you don’t.” Killian’s smile nearly sparkles, even in the middle of that mocking, not that she’d let it distract her. No, Emma is made of sterner stuff than that. With a quirk of an eyebrow, he slings an arm - the one with a hand, she notices - over those same shoulders. “C’mon, Swan, let’s go down to the bar and check on Ruby,” he declares. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

Emma debates shrugging his arm off, coming back with another snappy quip, but ultimately decides against it; some things just aren’t worth the effort when it’s been a weird day and she’s tired. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t have questions about this little side trip he’s proposing. “Why?”

“Why do I want to buy you a drink? Well, Swan, when a single man - like myself - meets a pretty young lady —”

“You know what I mean, smartass. Why do you want to go to the bar?”

“Ah, that. Well, you’re a bit of an open book Swan, and one who likes to hold all the cards. You’ve been carefully steering this whole data-gathering enterprise; I can tell you want to check in on how Ruby’s doing. I’d never call you a control freak, of course - that’d be terribly bad form - but, well…”

“I am not a control freak,” Emma protests.

“No?”

“No. Regina is a control freak. I am a… control enthusiast.”

“Kinky.”

“Do you just want me to use my pocket knife on you? Is that it?”

“That’s a little too kinky for me, actually, but if that changes at any point, I do promise, Swan, you’ll be the very first to know.”

With a glare, Emma reaches for her back pocket. There’s something so satisfying about the way Jones lifts both his hands in surrender at her renewed threat.

“Alright, Swan, I yield,” he laughs. “Might be best to add another drink onto what I owe you, call it an apology.”

“Make it something dark and strong and you’re on.”

Ruby is, by all appearances, more than fine behind the bar at the Den of Thieves - at least if the tip jar is any indicator. Her low cut blouse and that particular sway of her hips probably helps, but Ruby is naturally predisposed to this kind of thing, friendly and just a little bit flirty and a people person in her very core in a way Emma could never manage. The peppy brunette gives no indication of recognizing either Emma or Killian as she serves them, but their drinks, even for being simple, are prepared and delivered in record time, along with a basket of onion rings a few minutes later than Emma never even had to ask for. 

“So,” Killian says once they’ve nearly finished their first drinks - rum for him, bourbon for her - and put in an order for a basket of wings, tucking his hands jauntily beneath his chin. “Tell me about yourself.”

“This isn’t a real date, Jones,” Emma quips back, draining her glass and signalling a Ruby for a refill. “Sorry to break it to you, but that touchy feely business back at the gallery? All for show.”

Killian clutches at his chest dramatically. “Break a man’s heart, why don’t you, Swan?”

Emma just shrugs, reaching for another onion ring. No real way to respond to that, and no real need, either.

“But really, Swan. Tell me something.”

“Well, I’m a Scorpio, I like long walks on the beach, and I’m just looking for that perfect partner in crime, you know?” Emma replies, purposefully pitching her voice high and giggly. 

“Oh, now that was funny, love. Partner in crime - I see what you did there.”

“I couldn’t possibly begin to understand what you mean.” Batting her eyelashes really sells the effect, in Emma’s opinion. 

“Picture of innocence, truly.”

“That’s me.” Emma quickly nods her thanks as one of Robin’s regular staff deposits their wings platter, picking up and twirling a saucy drumette between her fingers. “Why do you want to know.”

“I don’t know,” Killian shrugs, reaching for his own bite. “As long as we’re working together, I figured it’d be nice to get to know each other. We don’t have to, I suppose, but I thought it might be preferable to sitting in silence.”

“What, 20 Questions then?”

“Aye. I’ll even let you go first.”

“You’re the one who wanted to play.”

“Yes, but I’m also a gentleman. Ask your questions, Swan.”

“Fine.” The problem is, Emma doesn’t really know what she wants to ask. But the silence sits there, complete with an expectant look on Jones’ face, and she finally settles on a cop-out of a question. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Unexpected choice of question. I like it. Blue grey, like the ocean on a windy day. Pancakes, waffles, or French toast?”

“Oh, and you said I picked something unexpected. Pancakes. With chocolate chips and whipped cream. Fantasy heist?”

“Some old sailing ship. Really embrace the pirate vibe. Any hobbies?”

Emma looks at him skeptically. “Does art theft not count?”

“Fair enough,” he laughs. It’s a nice sound, not that she’s paying attention. “Back to you.”

“Dream trip?”

“Someplace ancient. Maybe Greece. Ask me again next week and I’ll tell you something different. How do you take your coffee?”

“This feels like some kind of sly come-on,” Emma comments wryly.

“And that feels like avoidance. Answer the question, Swan.”

“Fine. I take it in the form of hot chocolate. With cinnamon. If I need the caffeine I’ll shotgun a Red Bull or something instead.”

“Red Bull? That’s disgusting, Swan.”

“That’s effective. And it’s my turn to ask a question.”

“So ask it.”

She pauses just a moment before diving in. “How did you find your way into this business?” Even as Emma speaks the words, she knows this is what they’ve been leading up to - why he, a man who should be able to make a respectable living, has wound up here, trafficking stolen goods. It doesn’t make sense, even if he is excellent at his job.

“Ah.” Killian’s smile is visibly strained as his head bows to address the table instead of Emma’s face. “It’s not a particularly noble story, I’m afraid.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Emma rushes to assure him. “I know when you suggested this game you didn’t think that —”

“It’s fine, Swan, really. I was never some knight in shining armor anyways.” He knocks back the rest of his drink quickly and signals for another. “I was actually in the Royal Navy for a stretch. Joined up with my brother.”

“That… actually makes sense. How’d a nice Navy boy turn to the life of crime?”

“Lost my brother, lost my hand. Was left with… pretty much nothing, really.” He jiggles the empty glass like a nervous habit, making the remaining ice cubes click softly together. “Found myself very at ends. And then, Will Scarlet sauntered back into my life, needed help.”

“Wait - Will Scarlet?” Emma should let him finish the story, but she knows that name. Fuck, she’s worked with that name before. “You know Will Scarlet?”

“Aye. Grew up together, actually, though we took very different paths after graduation. I take it you know him as well?”

“Pickpocket and thief? Kind of an asshole?”

“Oh, an absolute right bastard when he wants to be. Which he does, nine times out of ten. But he’s a loyal friend, and when I was drinking my benefits away at any pub I could find, not much caring whether I lived or died, he came to me and told me he needed help. Someone charming enough to help him get a good price on one of his larger pulls. And it just kind of… spiraled from there. Half of dealing in stolen goods is charm, you know. Charm enough to talk a price up or down, or convince a buyer that there’s absolutely no way a purchase can ever be traced back to them even when you know you can’t promise it. It’s a good fit for, if not the one I anticipated when I first joined up, fresh out of school. What about you, though?” he asks, quickly changing the subject. “How’d a lovely young lady like you embrace the life of crime?”

This isn’t really a story Emma likes to tell; Regina only weaseled it out of her after several years and quite a lot of tequila. But it seems like something she should tell Killian - tit for tat, and all that. Besides, he bared his soul to her, and all because she asked; it’s only right that she do the same.

“It was probably inevitable, one way or another,” she admits. “I, uh… I grew up alone. No parents, ward of the state, blah blah blah. A couple of prospective adoptions that didn’t happen when I was little and then a whole chain of temporary group homes. Until…” 

“Until?” Killian gently prompts when Emma doesn’t pick back up immediately.

“Until I ran away from the umpteenth foster home or group home - I honestly don’t remember which - and David caught me trying to shoplift from a gas station.”

“Ah. The infamous brother.”

“The very one,” Emma agrees. “Who you obviously know now isn’t my real brother. But he was… he kind of took me under his wing, you know? In a way I didn’t expect at 15. His father was a big name in certain circles - less than legal circles. Robert Nolan. Infamous for faking his own death a couple times. And they took me in - David and Robert and his wife, Ruth. Turns out angels or saints or whatever the fuck you want to call them don’t necessarily live on the right side of the law. Robert taught me to pick my first lock, and, well, the rest was history, as the mysterious they always say.”

“That’s nice, in a larcenous kind of way.”

“It was. Is? Robert died, for real this time, a few years back. Ruth’s still around, though. Made sure to come visit me in prison, even when I told her to stay away. Moms, I guess.”

“And your brother? He didn’t…”

“Wind up dead or behind bars?” Emma completes. “No. Though he might as well have. David was the safe-cracker on the east coast for a while, but he retired.”

“No shit?”

“None to speak of. Met a schoolteacher, got married, moved out to Maine. They’ve got an honest-to-God farm, with sheep and a tractor and… other farm things that I never want to know about.”

“Different strokes, I suppose.”

“Or something. I’m just happy he’s happy. Maybe when this is over I’ll drop in for a visit. Try my hand at gathering eggs or something.”

“I’m sure he’d like that,” Killian smiles. “Especially if you haven’t seen each other in years.”

“Yeah, well, if he doesn’t, too bad. He’s the one who adopted me, not the other way ‘round,” she comments, raising her glass in a mock salute. She likes the way it makes him laugh - though that might just be the bourbon talking. “I think it’s time for… literally any other question, honestly. Tell me about the pirate fixation.”

Gratefully, Killian lets her change the subject. “Ah. Well, you see, when I was a young boy, my brother read me Peter Pan…”

———

It’s just a drink. Well, several drinks, and a basket of onion rings and a wing platter. But it somehow makes Killian a person, a person Emma could actually like, instead of some man with an attitude she didn’t want on her team at the beginning of all of this. She knows a thing or two about defense mechanisms and emotional armor anyways. 

“Oh, please tell me that you and Jones just buried the proverbial hatchet and not the euphemistic one,” Regina groans after Killian hands Emma a coffee cup with a wink the next morning. A large hot chocolate. With a healthy sprinkle of cinnamon on the top. 

Seems he might have listened, just a bit.

“Okay, first of all, the euphemistic hatchet is not a thing. Like, that’s not a phrase. And if it was, I don’t think Jones needs that kind of ego boost. We’d never hear the end of it,” Emma argues.

“None of this sounds like a denial.”

“Well, it is. Because - second of all - we did not have sex. Which is the phrase real adults use.”

“Calling yourself a real adult undermines the spirit of the thing.”

Emma flips her off. It’s earned.

“Fine. You didn’t have sex. So this is all just… you suddenly discovering a new and more forgiving side of yourself?”

“Well, you know, I figured he was less insufferable than you, Reg, and it was all sunshine and roses from there.”

“Fair enough.” Regina holds out her own coffee cup - doubtless filled with some disgusting double shot concoction she ordered herself from an uppity coffee shop - to tap against Emma’s. “I’m just glad to see you two getting along better. Though maybe we could hear it less.”

“I make no promises.”

Across the room, Killian meets her eyes with a smile from where he’s listening to something Tink is saying, and Emma can’t help but smile back. They would have managed this job even if Killian and her hadn’t come to this agreement (detente, he’d probably say), but she can’t deny this makes things easier. 

Alright, Swan? he mouths from across the room, smiling even wider when she nods in return. 

It’s just drinks, and it’s just coffee - but it’s a start.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

From Chin To Yon Rah (Part 11)

“How’d things go last night?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? How can you not know?”

“I don’t really have any other dates that I can compare it to, Hajime.”

“Well did he make you laugh and smile?”

“He did.” But he also reminded her of just why she doesn’t particularly deserve to laugh and smile. She wonders if Hajime would reprimand her for turning his son down. Even if he wouldn’t, she isn’t sure that she should. She can’t imagine that there is a line of people waiting to shower her with affection. She is almost certain that she wouldn’t take well to it anyhow. She isn’t the sort for hugs and kisses and tender touches. It is quite hard to imagine herself on the receiving end of it. She can already picture her cheeks growing red and she loathes the very idea of being left a flustered mess.

“But?” Hajime prompts.

She shrugs and slaps her hands against her thighs. “But then he told me about how his wife died. That kind of ruins the mood, wouldn’t you say?”

Hajime rolls his eyes, “sounds like Seukhyun. He doesn’t exactly know how to choose dinner conversations. I’d wager that he’s just about as...socially confused as you are.”

“Is that how Atsu’s mother died? Did those soldiers kill her too?”

He glances into the other room where Atsu leaps off of his bed with Bao, The Magnificent Mole in hand. He drops the stuffed badger-mole into Caihong’s lap. “I thought that his name was Mud Muncher!” The girl declares. Satisfied that the boy is fully engrossed, Hajime turns back to her. “No. She was killed by the Fire Nation. After our own soldiers left they told the enemy soldiers exactly where to find us. I told Atsu that she just got sick…”

“Have you ever met a good soldier, Hajime?”

“Personally, no.” He replies. “But I’m sure that there are some out there.”

Azula responds with a bitter sniff.

“You don’t think so?”

“I don’t. They fight for what they think is best and then they find out that, that thing is actually the worst. And then they realize that they are monsters. Of course, most of them knew it all along. Nobody joins the military unless they want to kill someone.”

“Do you…” he looks into the other room. Atsu has fastened one of Caihong’s dolls to Bao. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

She nods her head towards the children.

“Atsu, Caihong!” They look up. “Rikka and I are going for a quick walk, stay out of trouble or I’ll go right to old man Hajime!”

“Don’t worry dad, Bao the Magnificent Mole has Avatar powers, he can defend the whole house from evil Fire Lord Bonsai!”

“Do you mean, Ozai?” Azula asks.

He shakes his head, “nope, I mean Bonsai! Fire Lord Bonsai is an evil bonsai tree that can talk and its leaves are on fire--except the fire is purple---and Avatar Mao is the world’s last hope because…” he sucks in a deep breath, “...because if he doesn’t stop Bonsai then Bonsai will use Roku’s comet to destroy the lion-turtle!”

“Also Ba Sing Se, Bonsai is going to burn Ba Sing Se if Mao can’t stop him.” Caihong adds.

Azula nods. “If you say so.”

“And! And! And also Fire Lord Bonsai has a son that’s a cabbage named Leaf and he’s the prince.” He holds up a leaf, “this is…”

“Leaf?” Hajime guesses.

“Mmmhmm!”

“Come on, Hajime.” She tugs at the man’s arm before Atsu can introduce any other offensive caricatures.

“You and Cai behave.” He waits for the children to nod before following Azula outside. “We were saying…”

“There are no good soldiers Hajime. It doesn’t matter what side of the war they are on. The winning side simply looks less evil because they are painted well. But they’re all…”

“You were a soldier, weren’t you?”  Azula swallows. She feels his hand cup around her own. “Let’s walk by the riverside, it’s quieter there.���

He doesn’t speak to her again until they come to a stop on a rickety bridge. “I know that you like being right but I disagree with you. Sure, there are people who join the war over power and bloodlust but some people join the military because they have no choice. Some folks need money, some were forced into it, and some want to protect loved ones. What was your reason?”

Azula thinks for a moment. It certainly wasn’t a matter of money and really she had no one to protect. She didn’t feel particularly forced, she’d rather enjoyed it and she thinks that she would enjoy it still--to feel the thrill of a conquest, a rush of adrenaline, a feeling of worth and accomplishment. “Power.”

“Power?” Hajime asks.

She nods. “I don’t know why you are surprised.”

He seems to study her for a long time. “Why did you want power?”

She furrows her brows.

“I’ve come to observe that most people who want power want it because they feel weak.”

But she had, had all of the power in the world in riches and in bending.

“So why did you want it?”

“I…” She looks off. Off to where the river leads, curling into a tangle of pine. Catkins and tallgrasses bob in the breeze. And yet, even with all of this clarity, she can’t seem to think of a reason why she would have wanted more power. She supposes that, that is just it; she never wanted it for herself, she wanted it so that she could turn it over to her father.

“I think that soldiers are a bit different in the Fire Nation. It seems like, over there, some people were raised on war and never knew any different.” He pauses to chuck a stone into the river. It lands with a plop and stirred up ringlets on the surface. A dragonfly launches itself out of the grasses. “I guess it isn’t so different in the Earth Kingdom. They make it sound glorious, and good and so you start to think that it is…”

Azula stares at the backs of her hands, feels the breeze fluttering her hair against her neck.

“I don’t think that you wanted power, usually people can say exactly why they want it.”

“To give it to my father.”

He nods. “So...love then?”

“What?”

“You wanted power so that you could give it to someone you loved? He was too weak to get it for himself so…”

“He wasn’t weak. He was the most powerful man I knew. He wanted more of it so I was going to get it for him.”

“Okay, he wasn’t weak.” Hajime nods. He is quiet for the longest time. And several times he opens his mouth as if to say something but closes it once more as if thinking better of doing so. She watches a count of six birds swoop down to take drinks before he finally says, “It sounds like you were one of the people who was raised on war. I don’t think that a good father would want his daughter to go to war for him.”

“My father was a good father.” Her stomach sinks even as she says it. He was such a good father that he left her behind. Strangely that probably was the best thing that he could have done for her. It weighs on her so heavily that she finds herself practically slumping over the bridge.

“You didn’t go to war for power. You went to war for love, to show it or to earn it. Or maybe both.”

Love…

He cups his hand over hers. “Maybe it led to bad things but at least you can say that you had one of the best reasons to become a soldier.”

If only that was it. If only that was the whole truth. If only glory and fear had no part of why she’d done so. If only she had just been a simple soldier. “I’m not what you think I am.”

He chuckles. “Who says that I’ve leapt to any conclusions about you?”

“It isn’t a matter of saying it, it’s a matter of implying.”

“I don’t have any solid ideas of who you are but I know what you aren’t.”

“Oh?”

He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know that you’re not a bad person, Rikka.”

Rikka is not a bad person. He can’t soundly say the same for Azula. She opens her mouth and it very nearly comes out. She very nearly tells him just who he is dealing with.

“The people in this village only say good things about you. A lot of them are more open to firebenders because of you. Maybe you think that you’re a bad person, but you’re not.” His hand slides off her hers. “We should probably check on Atsu and Caihong.”

She nods. “Yes, that would be a good idea.”

That day she learns that she might not be a monster.

.oOo.

She hates to admit it but she likes Sokka’s laugh. It isn’t charming. It isn’t elegant. It isn’t a pleasant sound, he snorts. But it is genuine, pure, and unapologetic happiness. The sort of laugh she hasn’t heard since listening in on Atsu and Caihong’s play. She holds the Bao against her stomach, absently stroking his head as she waits for Sokka to finish laughing.

“So you’re telling me that this Atsu kid sees me as a boomerang and he thinks that you’re a…”

“The color blue.” She nods. “Anything that he can find that is blue. He had bits and pieces of information but he had it all mixed up and so instead of blue fire, Fire Lord Bonsai’s daughter is just blue. Anything blue.”

“And ‘Roku’s’ comet was a…”

“Flaming cabbage sent by a very vengeful merchant, yes.”

“Oh man, that kid’s a genius. He outta write for the Ember Island players.” He wipes a tear from his eyes. “Maybe you can introduce me to him one day.”

She squeezes the badger-mole and shakes her head. She is glad that his eyes are still closed with laughter. She campuses herself before he looks up.

“Sorry, I know that I promised not to ask any questions after your story but I really just needed some clarification.”

“Those questions were superficial, I didn’t mind answering them. Your turn.”

“Alright, so do you want to hear about the time when we took Zuko to the Water Tribes for some penguin sledding and he got swarmed by them or…”

“Yes. I want to hear that one.”

“Or…”

“I want to hear the Zuko penguin story.” Azula says firmly.

.oOo.

He supposes that he will have to save the, Zuko stuck in a coconut tree for a day when she isn’t so stubbornly refusing the possibility of a funnier Zuko mishap story. She stares at him expectantly, drumming her fingers upon the badger-mole.

“So it was an anniversary present from me to Suki. I decided that it would be fun to take her to the tribes because she always wanted to see a penguin in person. It was great we got all snuggly and cozy, we had these really warm fur blankets and this fire going. There was a blizzard outside so Katara and Zuko and the others were stuck with Hakoda at Bato’s place. Suki and I had some alone time.” He winks. “She pecked me on the cheek and...”

“Spare me the details, Sokka. The only pecking that I would like to hear about involves Zuzu and penguins.”

He flushes. “Right, well after Suki and I got our alone time we decided to take a group trip to the penguin caves. Aang wanted to go penguin sledding again, he said that he could beat Zuko down the hillside. And you know how Zuko gets, ‘I’m going to beat the Avatar in a penguin race, for honor!’ So he went after the largest penguin. Those things are bigger than you think!”

Azula takes a sip of tea, “are they now?”

He nods. “Pretty sure there was one that is bigger than you. I guess that’s not saying much because…”

She fixes him with a deadpan stare and a quirked brow.

“Because...those penguins are massive, not because you’re really small.” He hears her inhale through her nose and snickers. “So Zuko finds the largest penguin that he could find and just leaps on. But that penguin was a mother and it was meal time so all of the chicks just waddle on up but Zuko is in the way. I think that they thought that he was their mother because they were trying to get food from him.”

“Did they get it?”

Sokka shakes his head. “Not from Zuko. Katara had to run all the way back to the village to get buckets of krill to lure them off of Zuko. He was picking feathers out of his hair for days.”

“That does sound like Zuzu. But usually it’s the turtle-ducks.” She gives a one armed shrug. “I guess that he has an affinity for creatures with beaks.”

“Thanks for sharing the badger-mole story.”  

She toys with the sash of her nightgown. “I’m...glad that you enjoyed it.”

He grins, though it isn’t particularly the story that he enjoyed--granted her certainly did enjoy that well enough--what he enjoyed was hearing it from her. Was seeing the soft smile on her lips. Was noticing and observing the way her eyes seemed to light up when she made mention of the boy. It was comforting. Comforting and reassuring somehow.

“Does it make you feel better?” He asks.

She tilts her head.

“To talk about moments that made you happy.”

She works a muscle in her jaw, “I suppose that it helps a little, yes.”  

“Maybe all of us can get together and…”

“No.” Azula murmurs. “Not yet. I don’t want to share these things with Zuzu yet, he’ll be...overbearing. TyLee gets too sappy and Mai isn’t interested in hearing me go on about some kid.”

“He’s not just some kid.” Sokka says immediately. “I can tell.” Azula tenses and he lifts his hands. “Don’t worry, I’m not asking questions. But it isn’t a bad thing, you know, to show people that you’ve got feelings and that you care about other people.”

She reclines in the chair, props her head against her arm and drapes the other over her belly. She seems to stare off at nothing at all. “Perhaps.”

“Think about it!” He insists. “Servants and guards have been approaching you more. They aren’t scared of you. I know that Mai and TyLee say that you have a thing for being all scary and intimidating but you don’t need to be anymore because…”

“The war has been over for years.” Her eyes don’t leave that distant spot, wherever it is. “I know.”

.oOo.

“Then why do you still have so many walls up?”

Because she is afraid.

“If you think that we won’t like you for being yourself, it’s not true. We have met all sorts of weirdos that we love. Like those swamp guys, you met them! They’re weird and we like them!”

“The more you talk the deeper you dig.” She rolls her eyes. But he isn’t entirely off in his assumptions.

“You took a lot of walls down for me today,” he continues. “Believe it or not, I liked it. I liked the little glimpse that I saw.”

Her tummy flutters. “Yes well I’m not ready for that.”

“Not ready to let people know that you’re a human being?”

Not ready to let people see her, all of her. Not ready for them to get attached to her and care for her.  She isn’t even ready for the possibility. She certainly isn’t ready to let people love her. Not the way Hajime did. Cherishable or not she isn’t ready to feel again what Hajime had made her feel. Not with someone who isn’t Hajime.  

[thedrowsydoormouse]

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?

All the time. I wouldn’t be shocked if I woke up one day still as a little kid and all this was some weird fever dream.

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?

Is 0 an option? If not then 1. 

3. The person you would never want to meet?

Jared Leto. I have zero interest being sexually harassed or any of the other shit he thinks is ok. My other answer would’ve been Harvey Weinstein but I’ve regrettably already met him at a party when I was 13 and promptly threw up in a trash can because the vibes I got off him were so negative they made me physically ill.

4. What is your favorite word?

Fuck. It’s so versatile.

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

Palm tree. 

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?

“Holy shit! My hair’s still curly! I thought that bun fucked it up!”

7. What shirt are you wearing?

A super old black tank top with a faded Union Jack on it that’s covered in holes but is super comfy so I wear it to bed.

8. What do you label yourself as?

Demi-pansexual goth-y punk rocker chick with emotional intimacy issues, a biting wit, and a flair for the dramatic

9. Bright room or dark room?

Dark. I’m like a vampire. I hate the light. It gives me headaches.

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

Watching TV.

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?

So far 25 has been pretty good.

12. Who told you they loved you last?

My partner.

13. Your worst enemy?

Red meat. Makes me crazy sick.

14. What is your current desktop picture?

15. Do you like someone?

It’d be awkward if I didn’t considering I’m in a committed relationship.

16. The last song you listened to?

Basket Case by Green Day.

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

Trump. It’d solve so many problems.

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

Trump. Any question like this has the exact same answer.

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?

I’d make Trump be my slave while I donate both of our time helping the homeless and the “illegal” immigrants in Downtown LA. That way I can punish him while also doing some good.

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)

My hair. When I let it air dry it has the best curls I’ve ever seen!

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?

I’d probably look the same but without tits and I’d probably jerk off a lot.

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?

I can always predict when my brother’s going to be home to within a 10 minute window.

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

Dying at Disneyland.

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.

Caprese sandwich. It’s just as good fresh as it is as a grilled cheese.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

Probably on either makeup or skincare because I need to replace a few things that I’m running low on.

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?

Tokyo Disney Resort. 

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?

Captain Morgan Watermelon Smash. I love watermelon and I love rum and that’s the best mix of the two.

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

Every single person is equal. Full stop. Anyone who says otherwise is banished back to the mainland.

29. What is your favorite expletive?

Fuck.

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?

My dance bag. It has a lot of good memories attached to it and has my first pair of pointe shoes in it which I can’t replace.

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

Watching the plane hit the 2nd tower live on TV on 9/11 when I was only 7. It fucked me up so badly I’m still in therapy for it.

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world! 

I’d probably wanna move to either Paris or Tokyo.

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

Carrie Fisher. The world needs our crazy space mom to shock it back into the good timeline.

34. What was your last dream about?

It was super mundane. I was painting my nails. They were gorgeous.

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]?

I’m good at a lot of things.

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?

No. And I hope I never am until I’m in a body bag on my way to the morgue.

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

I’m from Southern California. We don’t get snow.

38. What is the color of your socks?

One is aqua with flamingos and pineapples and the other is grey with rainbows and clouds. They are also currently inside out.

39. What type of music do you like?

I mostly listen to punk, grunge, classing rock, show tunes, stuff like that. I’m pretty open to everything except religious, children's, and rap. And free-form jazz. I hate that shit.

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

Sunsets.

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?

It depends on where I’m getting it but anything super sugary.

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)

I hate football. The only sport I even sorta watch is baseball.

43. Do you have any scars?

A few. None of them are very noticeable, though, and they’re all in hidden places.

44. What do you want to be when you graduate? 

I wanted to do something in the entertainment industry. So I studied costume design. Instead I just fucked up my mental and physical heath almost to the point of no return.

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

Nothing. I love myself exactly as I am.

46. Are you reliable?

Shockingly, yes. I seem super flaky but if you need someone to get something done or remember some random shit I’m your girl.

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?

Depends on how far in the future. But I think it would be who wins the presidential election this year. Because if we have to deal with 4 more years of Trump I’m going to kill myself.

48. Do you hold grudges?

Like you wouldn’t believe.

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?

CatDog. And not just because of the cartoon from when I was a kid.

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?

Me and my therapist were talking about how Columbus is the reason humans have chlamydia.

51. Are you a good liar?

Extremely. 

52. How long could you go without talking?

However long I need to. I spend a lot of time alone so talking isn’t really a big deal for me.

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?

I once had a bob when I was a kid. It wasn’t a good look. I don’t have the bone structure.

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?

I love baking and cakes are super fun to make!

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

Many! I used to do theatre and the more accents you could do the more roles you could get.

56. What do you like on your toast?

Butter. Melted. I’m a simple girl.

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

I was watching Next In Fashion and got pissed that they didn’t have a single plaid fabric in the studio so I drew this red carpet look using almost entirely plaids.

58. What would be you dream car?

A motorcycle.

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

I love to sing in the bath. I even have a special playlist that’s just songs I sing in the bath.

60. Do you believe in aliens?

I’d be stupid not to.

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

I used to. Not so much anymore.

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?

This is a stupid question.

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

Dragons. Hands down.

64. What do you think about babies?

Cool in theory, horrible in practice. I will never be a mom.

65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of.

I’ll use the same question I asked @anangelamuse-castiel-spnfam​ which was “If your universe suddenly stopped existing and you had to pick another one to live in, which would you pick?” and my answer would be probably the one that I keep seeing in my head that I’m writing a book about because I know shit isn’t going to hit the fan and the world is actually on the mend. But only if I can swap places with the main character of the book because she’s awesome and I love the way her story ends.

[threadoftheinfinite]

Ottessa Moshfegh, PR, Depression, and the Aesthetics of Antipathy

You have probably seen the jacket cover to Ottessa Moshfegh’s My Year of Rest and Relaxation by now. It is a very striking cover that is part of a well-engineered overall PR campaign. Electric pink font plastered over a dreamy reproduction of Jacques-Louis David’s 1798 painting, Portrait of a Young Woman in White. The Cut, New Yorker, Bookforum, Paris Review, Granta, Pushcart everyone promoted Moshfegh and this title.

Ultimately though, I put up the ridiculous sum of 28 dollars and change for Moshfegh’s book for what it promised inside. It promised to let me feel in literary form the peculiar species of depression the twenty-first century has wrought on young upper-middle-class, college-educated women. It promised to put in narrative detail what I already knew all too well: that myself and almost every all women I know in my generation have each and all suffered loss -- loss of a parent, a friend, a career, of some expectation we once held for ourselves-- and, too, that we all have, in turn, made ourselves suffer for this real or imaginary loss. We have all felt the pull of temptation to retreat from the world in the face of loss -- the desire descend into a deep, awful, alienating, self-protective, just-let-me-sleep depression. My Year of Rest and Relaxation appeared as the adventure that would indulge this desire to retreat and also functioned as proof that, in the face of depression and loss, there remained in all of us a hunger for something more than what the world, the entertainment industry, the pharmaceutical industry has to offer us to placate our hurt. We all want something more than pills, more than doctors, more than serial TV, rom-coms, or sex. We want a real art of depression, an art that details, that elevates, that immortalizes our boring, banal, stupid, narcissistic, and privileged brand of late capitalist depression.

Moshfegh was hailed as the the writer who not only could write this depression well, but mock it, show its perversity, and allow us enjoy our smallness and weakness perversely. The joke is always on us. Her writerly confidence oozes in interviews. She’s thinks she is greatest living writer. She loves to write--she has no regrets about her career. Not an ounce of depression here. Not a tad of anxiety. She knows how to write books that will sell. She gets high off her writing. Its that good. She will win all the prizes and the residencies.

Moshfegh’s arrogance is clearly itself a sickness, a symptom of late late capitalist American decadence -- but it looks good on her. One feels that we need more swagger from women POC in literary culture. It feels like a triumph to talk about the novel with Moshfegh in the #metoo era of Trump.

Unfortunately, My Year of Rest and Relaxation lives up to Moshfegh’s promise: she can and will write a bestseller; it will be cheap, formulaic, and easy to market and sell; it will target you and you will buy it. Here is what she gives us:

The year is pre-9/11 2000. The city pre-9/11 cultural capital of American finance empire: New York. Our protagonist is a rich, white, and orphaned. She is a recent graduate from Columbia (BA Art history). We never learn her name, the whole book is spoken in first person. She lives alone on the Upper East Side in an indulgent one bedroom apartment and is rich enough to have a doorman and buy designer clothes. She doesn’t really care about the clothes, though. Her parents died while she was in college. Her father first to cancer, her mother after to drugs and alcohol. They left her their house and some money. She pays her rent with the money she makes renting their house in the suburbs. The plot revolves around her life and her depression in these twelve months. We are with her in the mundane everyday shuffle back and forth from her couch to the bodega on the corner. Here, she buys her coffees from “the Egyptians” (always two: one to chug in the elevator on the way back to her apartment, the other to microwave later and drink throughout the day), her klondike bars, her skittles, her pints of ice cream. 

There’s very few people in her life. She has one friend from college, Reva, and a boy named Trevor who she used to fuck that she’s still in contact with and occasionally calls. Reva comes over unannounced weekly. She is the only person who calls and checks in. Reva is bulimic, obsessed with her weight, and fucking her boss, Ken. Reva’s mom is dying of cancer on Long Island. 

We go with the narrator to the pharmacy to pick up pills and to the psychiatrist’s office , Dr. Tuttle, once a month, to get her scripts refilled. The book is an account of this small life and a record of our protagonist’s distain for the world, her desire to drug herself out of it, to watch Tom Hanks and Whoopi Goldberg movies and to be left alone. The whole thing reads like Jean Rhys plot, if Jean Rhys’s protagonists did not have to suffer the indignity of working as store clerks for money, being poor or on the down and out in Paris, or selling themselves to men for a drink or a dinner out. 

The central message of My Year of Rest and Relaxation seems to be this: if you are rich enough, privileged enough, pretty enough, bored and depressed and disgusted enough with the world, you can sleep through your life and no one will really care. The world turns on. Your irrelevance is especially true if your parents die or if they never really loved you at all. Without living or loving parents, without bosses who care about you, without mentors, without bright career futures or special talents, without a partner, without investments, without a desire to make or a need to make money, who or what says we have to get out of bed at all in late capitalism? Who or what really enforces anything in our social world? What sets desire in motion? So long as you can pay the rent and the bills, who says you ever need to get off your couch and participate in the world? If you adopt a simple attitude, i.e. that the world is mostly pain and fallen and diseased, you can live out your live in a moral-judgmental slumber, and no one will notice or care. All of your needs, under the right conditions, can and will be taken care of. 

The novel is a meant as a satire but Moshfegh also expends a tremendous amount of energy building empathy for her otherwise pitiable, selfish, drug-addicted, depressed narrator. In giving the narrator special victim status as orphan, in casting her world under the shadow of grief, in depicting her as damaged and mean because her mother was mean and damaged, Moshfegh encourages readers to see the narrator’s actions (her drug use, her cynicism, her callousness, her death-drive) as symptoms and products of the world that produced her as a person. This is a strange moral choice. We learn of the narrator’s parents’ loveless marriage, her brief and somewhat meaningful but ultimately pointless education in art history (she found the real art world to be capitalist, stupid, and vain). We see that she has been abused by men, and basically has never found a meaningful relationship to the world in work, friendship, or love. This woman who has never experienced love, or only experienced it in fucked up, brief, sadistic ways, how could we ever expect her to be whole? 

The service industry emerges to fill the love-void (women services like waxing manicures, colonics, massages, but also the general service industry of the city, its restaurants, bars, taxis, bodegas, department stores, entertainment). These services keep us afloat, they make our narrator feel slightly more alive, get her out of the house, give her contact with other humans. They allow her to interact, transact, to use people and be used. Its an empty, stupid, cycle, of services, but anyone with expendable income who has lived in a city knows it well, knows it can be a comfort.

The most moving moment in MYRR is when the narrator opens up about her father’s death, the memory of his final hours, and the things she said to him in those hours. MYRR is hardly about rest or relaxation. Its far more about death, loss, grief, and the trauma of squandering your life. In the end, what the book shows is that you can’t survive or subsist without the economy of love, compassion, and sympathy. To live well, whether we like it or not, we have to love and be loved. These are the rules of the game. We can, like our protagonist, try to subsist on memories of love squandered, to avoid love and loving in fear of being hurt, we can try to subsist on ghostly love, on the images of love that could have been but never was, on movie love, but that is depression. If we are live in this way, on love reduced, if we recognize this way of being in ourselves, its time to change our lives and find ways to live again. 

We shouldn’t have novels appearing like this. Novels where the service industry appears as the most loving touch in our social world. Where we recognize that as a truth. Or else, we should just understand our society as one of services for sale. And figure out how to get into that business. This is exactly what Moshfegh has done.

[glumvillain]

GlumReviews #6

You ever hear those one hit wonder bands and wonder to yourself if they ever had anymore good songs hiding in that album that made them big?  I do.  In fact, it haunts me nightly and I blame it directly on dissolving at least 3 of my relationships.  But after diving kinda deep in the infant stages of goth and emo rock, I decided to take a hard left turn into something a bit lighter.  While the overarching theme of pop is present in alot of the bands I’ve reviewed so far, I’d like to discuss a relic of pop music that may be a little unappreciated in terms of the importance of bands you’ve (probably) never thought twice about.  The Cardigans.

After the death of Kurt Cobain, and inherently grunge, Americas music industry goes through what I essentially call it’s identity crisis, and if you don’t believe me just go look at what charted from ‘96, the year The Cardigans released their 3rd studio album:

As the Macarena dominated the states, artists remained hard at work to pump out the next big music movement and you could really follow it all from the 90′s. of Ska, Swing music, spanish hits, techno, nu metal.  It was a mad dash to be the next trendsetter.  And the entire country was on the receiving end of the horrid trash that the 90s pumped out post grunge-era.

And then, there’s The Cardigans. A swedish indie-rock band that received acclaimed success, winning several awards for their Disco-Pop romance anthem: “Lovefool”.  This led me to explore a question I had always asked myself, is a one hit wonder’s album worth checking out? And in this case I’d say yes, and allow me the pre-emptive correction of saying The Cardigans are not a one hit wonder.  While their biggest song to this day will be “Lovefool” they have had some chart ranking songs but none ever matched the success of the song that broke them through on their 3rd album.  Which is the album I’ll be reviewing today.

1. Your New Cuckoo

Beginning our journey is a Nu-Disco Pop jam that just leaves you wondering what you’re in store for.  By now you know my affinity for nice, bassy songs and this delivers, with some very smooth guitarwork to boot.  At this point I begin to wonder who calls the shots in determining the hits because the fact that the general public doesn’t know this song is pretty criminal.  Definitely give this one a listen.

2. Been It

Along with amazing bass lines, I also enjoy whenever a track transitions perfectly into the next and this is accomplished perfectly here.  With a bit of a harder edge, juxtaposed with lead singer Nina Persson’s soft vocals as she tells a tale of devoted love, playing the roles of everyone in someone’s life and coming at that crossroads where you realize you can definitely do better than what you currently got.  Driving guitar and drums, its a great pop-rock song that opens doors for this familiar pop-rock in the 90′s.

3.  Heartbreaker

This is a sultry, hypnotizing song that I really love, the bass line, the percussion, Persson’s voice is breathy and seducing, as she lazily sings about the fleeting passions of her heart.  Produced with lush instrumentation and attention to detail.  This is just all around a beautiful song that I had to listen to a couple of times because it really is an interesting choice of musical direction.  The Cardigans are not a one trick pony as this album progresses, they’ve displayed strong roots with pop and guitar led indie rock, and this song just dives into the shallows of psychedelic rock, all respect to where it’s due but I can’t help but get strong Nancy Sinatra vibes from this song.  From as it begins a light pop song, bends with some doom metal guitar vamping to fadeout, a really great song worth checking out

4. Happy Meal II

My first remarks are really about the drums that just stink of Ringo Starr.  Which isn’t a bad thing.  Playing on this psychedelic rock sound they lean into, this is their bubblegum pop entry into the album and I gotta say I’m not annoyed at anything here.  A catchy hook, and Nina Persson’s voice again is just this sugar frosted cherry on top of this beautiful arrangement of percussion and guitar.  This album keeps you interested as it twists and turns through it’s genres. 

5.  Never Recover

I get more Nancy Sinatra vibes here.  Like a pop Bossa Nova, the drummer has times where he really shines and brings this amazing energy to these basic song structures, really makes even the most simplest of songs easy to enjoy.  Nina’s lyrics don’t take themselves too seriously and come off sincere as she questions her own actions in the face of love.  Lyrically competent between being the victim and also realizing one’s faults and the role that plays in the loneliness. 

6.  Step on Me

A tongue in cheek ballad that leans more into a rock genre but providing a genre-bending twist as only I’ve come to expect from the band by now.  Playful and carefree, it’s a nice showcase of guitar work and Persson’s innocent harmless voice.  Laying groundwork for alot of indie music of the 2000′s in my personal opinions, flip flopping between hard pop-rock and indie slow jam, its a testament to their unique use of every genre they touch.  

7.  Lovefool

I mean, we all know this song I’m sure or at least heard it once. Within the context of the album itself, this song gets lost to me, obviously strong enough to launch their career into stardom.  It seems to lack a certain quality that I can’t quite pinpoint.  Perhaps owing to the fact I’ve heard this song about a hundred times more than the rest of the album.  It’s not a bad song, but to me, personally boring as the rest of the album is an absolute treat to the ears, especially if pop music is a guilty pleasure thing for you. Listen at your own discretion. But may I invite you to listen to the absolutely bitchin’ guitar portion that kicks in at 1:01.  Just amazing.

8.  Losers

Reminiscent of track 3 with its intro, we are led into another pop-rock standard experience. Once again a beautifully done transition from the previous track. Probably the most bleak song of the album as it begins with the lyrics “Close your eyes, look at all these losers/ You find them everywhere, they’re fucked up and annoying”.  A song you could definitely see playing at the end portion of a CW show where the final thoughtful message of the episode is being narrated.  

9.  Iron Man

Black Sabbath cover.  And easily one of the best covers of any song I have ever heard. EVER.  And I mean it.  A band from Sweden, arguably a birthplace for cold dark demonic harmonics and face paint-clad goth bands.  Have absolutely every right to kickass this much.  In their way of course.  Heavy Metal takes a backseat as they turn this into a trippy deconstructed journey of the classic heavy metal anthem.  Smooth and chill, it’s just an amazing cover.  These guys made “Lovefool” for fuck’s sake, and they’re covering Ozzy better than most metal bands could ever hope to.  Please listen to this song.

10. Great Divide

Back to the lush fields of bubblegum sugary sweetness, more symphony led than most of the songs on the album, comes off as a little broadway tune, largely forgettable in the context of the record.  So many good songs in this album and I personally feel this didn’t meet the standards of the rest of the album.  Lyrically strong, I don’t think it takes away from the album if it was skipped.

11. Choke

The send off track is a nice somber closer, reiterating their use of nu-disco, psychedelic sounds, an obvious love for that 60′s retro-rock.  This song implements use of several horned instruments, as well as some flute that can be heard prominently in a few tracks. It’d be really hard to pin down exactly what genre this is as it wavers between alot of genres, as could be said for alot of their songs as they’re able to successfully blend these elements of soul, funk, disco and pop and become their own specific sound. (fans of Tame Impala may find something familiar in the nostalgic guitar and groovy basslines)

I can’t say this album is underrated because it scores fairly decently across the board with some prominent music reviewers, so I’ll say this is definitely an album everybody should check out.  I’ll go out on a limb and say that in an era or chaotic post grunge, this is one band that kinda kept this pure Pop essence strongly in its foundation.  Didn’t go the route of synthesizers and drum machines, but instead utilized a full band to make some of the most unique music you will ever please your ears. 

 Without The Cardigans, I don’t think you get a direct line to later acts like Avril Lavigne, Britney Spears, Hilary Duff and Miley Cyrus respectively.  It’s pop without being too sugary sweet, and it utilizes every single instrument perfectly, every song feels perfectly engineered to hit that sweet spot and from my non-stop gushing I guess it’ll come as no surprise if I rate it.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/5

I’ll admit, the album starts strong and burns out towards the end for my taste, only kept alive by the Black Sabbath cover, if you’re curious at all about this album, I highly recommend that song the most and checking out the album at least once. 

[rdgpcg]

It was a bit after 4:00 on a sunny fall day. The service department of the local RV dealer had closed. A small car parked, unnoticed, behind the service center and two figures slipped from the car and made their way furtively through the sales lot slipping between RVs, watching carefully for salesman or other staff. Anyone watching a surveillance camera would probably immediately call the police or send security to the lot. These two shady figures sneaking around the lot were . . . . looking at RV paint schemes. Okay, I admit it! It was us! We did it! But “it” wasn’t much of an offense. The scene of the crime was a local RV dealer where we had had a less-than-stellar sales experience while trying to buy our new motorhome and we wanted to check out a few full body paint designs uninterrupted by pushy sales people. Sometime ago I had relayed our experiences with the RV sales world. At that time, I thought we had found our new motorhome, ordered it, and were done RV shopping. How wrong I was.

Around about early October the call came in that our new GT3 had arrived at the Keystone RV Mega Center in Greencastle, PA. Our awesome sales person, Becca Eyler, texted me a bunch of pictures of our new pride and joy. We excitedly began browsing through them and almost immediately alarm bells sounded. Things were quite different from what we ordered.

What we actually got.

What we thought we were getting

The bedroom cabinetry had been rearranged and the giant drawers we loved were gone. The wardrobe was smaller and bedroom TV bigger. Bear in mind, if given our choice we wouldn’t have one TV anywhere in the whole RV so a bigger TV in the bedroom wasn’t an enormous plus for us. The kitchen had changed too with a bigger refrigerator eating up the tremendous counter space and shrinking drawer and kitchen storage by a third. There were other differences too but the biggest problem was that they had installed a loft bed! We specifically ordered a unit because we didn’t want a loft bed and all the dealers seemed to feel that was a necessity. For us it is in the way, designed for children, and is a feature we will never use.

A great feature for those with kids or grand kids. Not for us though.

We were crestfallen.

  Happily, the good folks at Keystone RV Mega Center realized this was a vastly different product than what we had put our deposit on and let us back out of the deal. Meanwhile, we had gone to the Hershey RV show to browse around. It may seem odd to go to the biggest RV show on the planet after ordering a new RV but with 40 manufacturers and over 1300 units the Hershey show can be a bit overwhelming from a shopping perspective. We went to enjoy the day and check out all things Georgetown as well as shop for accessories. We knew we’d need some new stuff for our Class A. While perusing the Campers Inn Georgetown display two things happened: 1: We greatly disappointed the salesman who was sure he had a sale locked up. 2: We learned about the Georgetown GT5 and both kind of wished we had seen that model before ordering the GT3.

After the disastrous GT3 order we had to seriously question our go-forward strategy. We both love camping and decided we weren’t done with it yet nor did we want to put the money into our little Navion that we felt was needed.

Our old camper.

Suddenly, the GT5 we had oggled at Hershey was back in the mix. But now I had serious trust issues with Georgetown. How could we know a newly ordered GT5 would come in any way like we hoped?

  Conveniently, I had the contact information for Rob Schwindaman from Forest River who are the makers of Georgetown RV. Rob had reached out to me with one of the engineers to talk through the changes on the GT3. He said to call with questions so I did. We talked extensively about the GT3, the GT5, the come-to-Jesus meeting held at the assembly line after the muffed loft bed installation on our GT3, and life in general. Rob had just come from the product meeting for the GT5 and was ready with a list of planned changes for 2019. He also assured us that the assembly line folks would be paying a lot closer attention to build sheets “or else”.

It is noteworthy that the RV industry isn’t like the car industry in any regard. In the automotive industry, the line is shutdown, retooled, and then started up again with a hard changeover to the new model year. Not so with RVs. Model year changes are eased into production as old supply dwindles, and new supplies and designs are brought to stock. Late model year units tend to be a blend of old and new.

Rob was confident that if we ordered a GT5 it would be done right and without surprises. I was confident I’d touch base with Rob throughout the build process to be sure. We took a deep breath and had Becca place our order for a freshly built GT5 in the 31R5 floor plan. Unlike the GT3, the GT5 had full-body paint as an option. Full-body paint was on my list of things I’d have if we ever did this again . . so full body paint it was. After snooping the local dealer lot we had decided on the Seminole paint scheme.

Not this one.

Not this one.

This one is just right!

Nope.

Meanwhile, since camping season was over, I decided to see if we could sell our Itasca Navion myself. We were going to trade on the GT3 because we would be camping until it arrived but that season was over and there was plenty of time to try to sell. Like cars, you can usually do better selling the old yourself than trading. Ultimately that worked out well and Lil’ Nav found a new home with a nice gentleman from Wisconsin and we pocketed quite a bit more money than the proposed trade value. Win win. I’ll admit that, while I don’t get emotionally attached to “stuff” it was difficult to watch our little camper that we had for 12 seasons drive off into the sunset.

Our order for the GT5 was placed in early November with a predicted arrival time of late January or early February. Of course, that didn’t account for hell freezing over and Forest River having to shutdown manufacturing for a period of time due to extreme cold but hey I didn’t really want a guy trying to assemble a motorhome while wearing mittens either.  Deer season and the holidays kept me busy until January. Nonetheless by the middle of February I found myself staring at my phone every day wondering when a text from Becca might appear that our coach had arrived from Indiana.

Me waiting for Becca’s text that our new coach arrived.

Georgetown is built in South Bend. I secretly wondered if the delivery driver had to stop somewhere in Pennsylvania to undergo some form of Fighting Irish degaussing.

Suddenly this past Tuesday while in a meeting my phone buzzed with a new text from Becca. The coach arrived! She was actually off but her manager had let her know it arrived. (Apparently free from any leprechauns or other Irish paraphernalia.) She said she would send me pictures the next day. I can’t say I wasn’t worried. After the GT3 fiasco I worried about the paint being the correct scheme, the interior decor being different, unexpected and extreme changes, or *gasp* a loft bed!! But when the pictures arrived all was well. In fact, all was better than well. The changes were nearly exactly as Rob had described before we ordered. There were two pleasant surprises evident in the pictures. The drawer space in the kitchen was vastly improved and one drawer in the bedroom that was difficult to access had been changed to a much-better front opening cabinet. The paint job looked beautiful! We were elated!

I checked the weather and texted Becca about a Friday pick-up which, at the time it looked like the best day. It is noteworthy at this point that the Georgetown GT5 is 34′ 11″ in length, 12′ 3.5″ tall and 8′ 4″ wide. This is considerably bigger than our 2007 Navion which was something like 23′ 6″ long, 10′ 9″ high, and 8′ wide. I decided I didn’t really want to add on our tow-behind car on our very first trip with the new wide-body coach so decided to rent a car, stay locally near the dealer in Greencastle Thursday night, and drop the rental car off prior to driving the new righome.

If you remember this you might be old.

This plan worked fabulously especially since the @#$$^$% groundhog lied his buck teeth off about an early spring and Mother Nature dumped 3″ of snow on us Thursday night. We’d have been in a world of hurt had we driven in on Friday morning. Due to a major crash route 81 was closed and all traffic was delayed and detoured. I was confident the roads would be clear and dry by the time we headed for home with the motorhome in the afternoon.

I could probably prattle on for another few pages about the inspection and delivery process. It would be extremely boring except to say it went well. Becca was awesome and knows her stuff including when to admit she doesn’t know and seeking help. The only real problem we found was some loose wooden trim on the front side of the front slide. I suspect it came loose in transit. Larry, the tech from Keystone, reattached it. Time will tell if that fix holds up or we need to to something a little better.

Once we got through inspection, and paperwork, the RV was ours. All that was left was to grab some lunch, return the rental car and make tracks toward Leesport and our heated storage unit. I got behind the wheel and started the Ford V10 engine. Somewhere in Saudi Arabia and oil Sheikh smiled. With Becca’s help, we checked all the lights, got the mirrors adjusted and pulled on to the highway. The engine roared as it made its way through the 6 speed transmission. On route 81, the big RV came up to speed surprisingly quickly. I looked down to see my speed at 75 mph. Whoa! Back ‘er down! I was scared and nervous about driving the big rig . . . for about 2 minutes. As we rolled along I mentally applied the lessons we learned in the driving class we took and realized quickly it was no different than driving our smaller motorhome. It is just a bit longer but with a lot better view out the giant windshield.

Our route home was pretty straightforward and all highway driving with fairly light traffic. We picked up some congestion near Harrisburg and it was a good opportunity to lose some inhibition and drive normally rather than cautiously hanging back in the right lane. It turns out that, so far anyway, there is really no magic about driving the bigger RV. Just be aware of things. Especially be aware that the brake pedal sticks out a bit close to the accelerator and it is possible, if one wears a size 11 shoe, to accidentally press the brake while trying to accelerate to pass a truck. *Ahem*. Otherwise we made it back to Leesport without incident.

As hoped the roads had been clean and mostly dry by the time we travelled but we still picked up a bit of salt residue. (Where is all the rain when you need it?) We did what any normal person would do. We washed a 35′ RV by hand in the middle of winter. Thank goodness for heated steering wheels for the ride home.

Winter RV washing hands.

At this point, our new vacation-home-on-wheels is tucked safely in a heated storage bay waiting for us to load up our RV possessions that are piled in the bay with it. We also have some shopping to do for new RV-specific accessories. Despite the pending strike of the latest “Storm of the Century” camping season will be here soon so we won’t be wasting time. There is also a bunch of documentation to read, sort, and file away.

Only part of the pile of manuals.

Many have asked about our first trip. Most likely we will probably stay close to home to learn the systems and do a bit of a shakedown cruise. An alternative may be to venture a bit further and head West toward Punxsutawney. I always wanted to do a little groundhog hunting . . .

  First “camping trip” may be to Punxsutawney.

Note: If you are in the market for any sort of RV be it a travel trailer, 5th wheel, motorhome, or expandable reach out to Rebecca Eyler at Keystone RV Mega Center in Greencastle, Pa. They are a top notch, honest dealer and will help you find the camping rig to fit your needs at a reasonable price. 

New Adventures Await It was a bit after 4:00 on a sunny fall day. The service department of the local RV dealer had closed.

[junker-town]

Reviewing almost every frame of the NFL’s Super Bowl ad

The all-time greatest, most competitive NFL players gathered for the #NFL100 gala. What could possibly go wrong? pic.twitter.com/pvE0fKuSye

— NFL (@NFL) February 4, 2019

The only way to really run through the full scope of the best ad at the Super Bowl — the NFL’s chaotic, crashing ode to itself and it’s 100th season — is to review almost every frame of it. There’s that much in it, so much that I feel like we can all skip right past Roger Goodell completely and get to the players.

Speaking of ignoring Roger Goodell!

Alvin Kamara and Drew Brees are smiling because they got to read the script ahead of time and know what just happened to the Rams.

Any frame with Marshawn in it is a quality frame. I chose this one because it speaks to me on a personal level, because this is exactly how I look at cake. This is also how Marshawn Lynch looks at cake, both as someone with a well-documented sweet tooth and as a self-described prestige NFL “Fat back”. I both want the huge football cake for myself, and for Marshawn, golden football and decorum be damned.

Good storytelling is about vividly portrayed and familiar characters, the things they want, and the struggle to bridge the distance between them. That’s all this is right here: For want of cake, Marshawn Lynch upsets the world. (Worth it, because: Cake.)

Sometimes when going through casting options, it’s important to avoid overthinking things. Which player will definitely throw societal norms out first and start a brawl at a formal event? Yes, check the box, that is Ndamukong Suh, no need for second options here.

Follow-up: Which player will not, under any circumstances, get involved in that brawl because his mom might hear about it and yell at him? Eli Manning, just pencil that in and don’t entertain other choices. He had the role before we even started shooting.

Okay so you know that thing directors do sometimes where they don’t tell the actors what’s going to happen so the reactions are real? That’s what’s happening here. Mike Singletary is not acting, and has instead just done what he always does when someone rolls an unattended ball onto the ground. It’s made his life hell and destroyed his social life.

Please do not laugh at Mike Singletary or his crippling and overdeveloped football instincts. It’s not funny for him, or for his fatigued and embarrassed family.

Christian McCaffrey looks like he’s got a precious idol in his hand and is about to say “We have to stop meeting like this, Dr. Jones”. No, actually, he doesn’t think this belongs in a museum.

Really just wanted to point out how beautifully framed each shot here is. Renaissance paintings kiss my entire ass, look at that composition and range of human emotions. I’ve been saying Rembrandt is trash for years and will continue to do so when the modern competition is burying him on basic crap like Super Bowl commercials. Step up and buy like one light bulb and then paint something I can see, you cheap bastard.

Tag yourself here, this is me.

This ad is a reminder that Joe Montana is just extremely game at all times. Max effort in every role, like when he played himself in a skit on Saturday Night Live back in 1987 and repeatedly used the word “masturbate” on network television in a time when people didn’t get jobs because they said it out loud.

I haven’t watched Saturday Night Live in years. However, I think it’s safe to assume it’s only gotten better with time, and that this is something everyone agrees on universally as a matter of public opinion.

Again, this man is not acting here. I haven’t followed Jerry Rice on Twitter for years just to tell you he’s a) not trying out for a team here and b) that he isn’t convinced he wouldn’t be a 1,000 yard receiver in 2019’s NFL. Pump-fake around him in public and see if that arm doesn’t fly up to show you just how open he is at the California Pizza Kitchen at 11:45 am on a Tuesday.

Michael Irvin is the Voice of Reason here. Michael Irvin once attacked a teammate sitting in a barber’s chair with a pair of scissors. I see you, ironic screenwriter. I see everything you’re doing here, and appreciate it.

That is definitely Deion high-stepping...

...but there is no way Deion took a hit for this ad because a) CGI is an amazing technology and b) Deion is a smart man, and not a dumb one.

On the other hand, there is no way Brian Urlacher — star of Netflix’s original anime Copgod: Father of Cops — did not lay this hit himself. Not a chance.

I’m torn. Part of me wants to pay the 1972 Dolphins zero attention because they played football when there were ten plays and everyone weighed about as much as the average American in 2019 weighs.

Then again, as an aspiring old bastard, I’m very much respectful of stunting on an old record no matter how wobbly it might be in context. Also, I’ve always agreed with the ‘72 Dolphins champagne is a light, refreshing beverage suitable not just for formal events, but for a whole host of social occasions, too.

It’s fraught, so let’s just put this right here in the middle because that’s pretty much where the Miami Dolphins end up in most football-related things.

Todd Gurley averaged one touch every two minutes in this ad. In the actual Super Bowl, Todd Gurley had just eleven touches overall in Sean McVay’s game plan. If the director of this commercial had coached the Rams against the Patriots, Gurley would have touched the ball a projected thirty times, and the Rams would have had a better chance of winning.

QED: The director of this commercial is a better football coach than Sean McVay.

Barry Sanders makes two people miss in this despite having a tie knot the size of an artichoke. Legendary performance.

Emmitt Smith putting together a fully-rounded resume here: Superb line delivery (“Y’all know I have more yards than they do, right”), immaculately groomed facial hair that embraces his age, the butterfly bow-tie, a full flex with the earrings, and the impression that he’s not getting out of his chair unless the place is on fire AND out of champagne?

Flawless retired-and-loving it vibes here, no old NFL man does this with more assurance.

Peyton dunking on himself at every opportunity is his brand, and also distracts everyone from pointing out the subtle but still substantial comeback his hairline made over the last few years. Peyton also puts in a good nod early on in the ad, a hard thing to do when your head is the size of an obelisk. He’s not asked to do much here, but it’s craftsman-level work nonetheless.

Michael Strahan contributes little here but still gets a credit. Next entry is related to recent events.

Baker Mayfield calls Tom Brady old and wears a suit he got off an assassin in John Wick 2, and therefore gets an A for his work here. Tom Brady says he’s going to do something, takes off his rings, and stands up. He is seen doing nothing for the rest of the ad. This is why Tom Brady is the favorite player of every aspiring management-class person in the United States.

Again: I see you, subtly savage scriptwriter.

Rob Gronkowski looks like the heir to a bankrupt but still titled duchy somewhere obscure and European. Sure he’s a baron in title for the party invites — but he DJs in Miami three nights a week for the money. What I am saying: If Rob Gronkowski never opened his mouth, someone would hand him the keys to a dilapidated castle and the reins of a serviceable war horse without asking a single question.

Brian Urlacher with hair looks like the Father of all Cops, and also star of the Netflix anime original series Copgod: Father of Cops. He hasn’t touched his salad because “I don’t eat what my food eats”.

Ninja says hello to JuJu Smith-Schuster, the joke being that Juju played Fortnite with Ninja and Drake, and now in person does not recognize him. Juju Smith-Schuster may not really recognize Ninja here. That is fine because unlike every football player, Ninja makes a half mil a month playing video games without risk of heinous injury, and cannot be spotted or bothered on the street by 99.9 percent of Americans. WHO’S LAUGHING NOW, JOCKS?

Richard Sherman gets faked out by a child. Yes, it’s the script, but if you’re a DB then that ball is yours. Why does she have the ball still, Richard? This is going to hurt during film study during the week, and I want it to, for you, Richard. I want it to sizzle. I want you to feel that burn so you don’t feel it again next week against Arizona.

A brief note to say: The play-fake by the director here to have Aaron Donald and not Ndamukong Suh be the answer to “Who will sack and hurt an old man?” is nifty. Suh would sack a senior citizen if he had to, I have no doubt of this. It’s just the role-switching and confounding of the viewer’s expectations is nice here, that’s all.

That’s three DBs — Patrick Peterson, Derwin James, and Jalen Ramsey — and two wide receivers, Odell Beckham, Jr and Larry Fitzgerald. So yes, Terry Bradshaw is throwing into what is at least double coverage. The accuracy overall here remains untouchable.

THE IMMACULATE RECEPTION HIT THE GROUND FIRST AND THE RAIDERS WERE SCREWED. STOP GLORIFYING THIS VULTURE AND HIS SIGNATURE PLAY. THE WHITE TIE IS NICE, THOUGH, I CAN’T EVEN DENY IT.

Saquon got his hurdle shot. The identity of the player completely embarrassed on the play isn’t clear, but I think it’s safe to assume on principle that he’s an Atlanta Falcon.

Patrick Mahomes being a blur throwing across his body works. So does Russell Wilson sitting down and saying “hi” politely while not getting up to join the mess. Russell Wilson is just waiting for dinner rolls and a chance to talk about a few of his favorite brands because he is Russell Wilson. Both players are deeply on brand here.

Odell gets a circus catch and crashes into a table. After watching this ad twenty times or so, this is general statement of fact: more media content should involve demolishing large cakes and elaborate banquet settings. This ad recognizes that, and I appreciate its solidarity in bringing back a hallowed American cinematic tradition of destroying expensive things for our entertainment. NO THIS IS NOT THE FILMMAKER’S CLEVER HIDDEN METACOMMENTARY ON FOOTBALL AS A WHOLE, WHY DO YOU ASK?

Von’s got a bigass cowboy hat, his eighties electrician glasses on, and the reverse white/black formal wear scheme going with an embroidered jacket. Top ten all by itself.

I want to conclude with this frame. This ad gives Ed Reed this giant hero shot like Ed is about to:

Snatch a baby stroller out of the path of a rolling 18-wheeler

Organize a successful casino heist

Meet the love of his life, become the love of their life, and yet refuse to commit because doing so would compromise his integrity as America’s last line of defense against evil

Fight Death in hand-to-hand combat and win

Ed Reed is not only capable of all of these things, but probably has done at least two of them in real life. The jacket alone would have merited top placement, but having him lurking only to strike when least expected? That’s doing your work in the film room, there. Top billing here, because Ed puts his heart in this shit.

[k6034]

K6034 art commission auction for charity - bidding now open!

A little while ago I signed up for the charity auction @fandomtrumpshate​ to help charities in the name of anti-trump, and as of today (Jan 12th 2017) bidding has begun!

(there’s a TLDR at the bottom of this post)

But Jade, what is this auction?

FandomTrumpsHate has a great plan to raise money for so many charities by auctioning off around 600 contributor's fanworks, including art, fic, podcasts, videos and more! I am offering to paint something for the winner of my auction - a portrait, a book cover, a manip, whatever! Also I will paint it for ANY FANDOM, EVEN IF I’M NOT IN IT (but not cartoons, sorry!) I paint semi realism, and like to “give what canon hasn’t so far”. Perfect for shippy pics!

How does it work?

First of all, you need to check out my specific post on the blog, which you can find here:  https://fandomtrumpshateofferings.tumblr.com/post/155733456502/k6034-fth-contributor-page

That post contains what I’ll paint, what I wont paint, contact details and the bidding sheets you need to fill out. Read it before you decide to make a bid. I’m pretty open to any fandom and pairing (if you want something with a ship), but check with me first before spending your money.

So...do I pay you?

Nope! I don’t get a penny, it ALL goes to the charity of your choice (Check the FTH FAQ page for the full list of pre-approved charities). I am donating my work to the winner of the auction.

All you need to do, once you’ve won, is to make that donation to the specified charity, send me proof of payment and then we can get talking about the work!

Okay, it seems like a good idea. What steps should I take?

 I’d read the blog’s FAQ page here: http://fandomtrumpshate.tumblr.com/faq to see exactly what is happening, and the list of charities we are supporting

Then, if you are kind enough to choose me, read my post to make sure I am offering exactly what you are looking for: https://fandomtrumpshateofferings.tumblr.com/post/155733456502/k6034-fth-contributor-page

Contact me on tumblr @k6034​ (my IM is always open and I’ll reply asap) to make sure I will do what you want before making a bid. Anon asks are also welcome for any shy bidders

Check the current highest bid on this page: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1z6LVC7D_RjuSfhdABMF37lZaVRLhgMdOoPc9Rc0SH24/edit#gid=2061782043

Place a bid on this page here: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdCwUP2Vf0fCNzVPdseqkrpynrTL7u4Wb1gwUbRS69j5IHr-w/viewform

Keep an eye on the current highest bidder. You will not be notified if you are outbid so you need to manually check to see if you are winning.

Keep bidding until 11:59PM EST January 19

Bids are in USD ($) with a minimum starting bid of $5. Please convert via google to double check how much your own currency would be in USD, to make sure you’re not spending more money than you thought. Please only bid what you can afford! (eg. If you are prepared to pay around £20, convert it to USD and put the converted amount into the bid. Bids are only in USD)

If you have won (yay!) make the donation of the winning amount to the charity and send me confirmation of payment, either on tumblr or via email (which you can find on my post) by Jan 31st 2017

Talk to me about what you want, and I’ll take it from here!

So...no offence, I love you, but I’m not interested in your work. I do want to support the project though.

That’s fine, there are soooo many other contributors! 

Go to this page http://fandomtrumpshate.tumblr.com/howto-tags and see how to look through the tags 

Go to this page and see the list of works and fandoms on offer: https://fandomtrumpshateofferings.tumblr.com/tags 

Remember, there are two separate blogs where you will find your info: 

@fandomtrumpshate​ is the main blog with all the info about how this all works. Look through their FAQ before sending them an ask

@fandomtrumpshateofferings​ is where you will find all the individual contributor’s posts, with what they are offering

Please reblog this to spread the word!

Message me if you’ve got any questions!

TLDR: I’m auctioning off an art commission to raise money for charity - Go here for details:  https://fandomtrumpshateofferings.tumblr.com/post/155733456502/k6034-fth-contributor-page

(If @fandomtrumpshate reads this and wants me to alter any information, let me know asap) 

[samdukewieland]

Stuck Inside Media Diary Week 8

Something that’s been nice about going back through Mad Men has been re-reading/re-visiting old Sepinwall recaps on the episodes. I read him religiously throughout high school and college, amongst others, but have since drifted from the recap on shows, for no good reason. Probably because there’s generally a podcast I can just listen to rather than read something (jock at heart-sorry ¯\_(ツ)_/¯). This supposed to be a lesson in “go back and experience stuff from your high school years?” man, I don’t know; the venn diagram of things I did in high school and the things I do now is not small (or is it not big? What’s the best way to convey a lot of similarities with a venn diagram, size-wise). 

Sunday, May 10 (Mother’s Day)

The Third Man, Reed 1949

I was not super digging this while I was watching, it was late when I started watching it and it’s not slow exactly, but I was real curious how egg-zacktly Orson Wells was going to fit into the picture. Mysteries! I tells ya. Anyway, I’ve been stewing in it and realized, “huh, I think I actually like this movie quite a bit.” I think the Britishness, while not in your face, was secretly chipping away at my brain, already war-torn by tiredhead and then having a second wave of dry, British storytelling. Pretty good li’l picture (you could say that about movies in the 40′s-this isn’t uncommon).

Top Chef, Season 17 episode 4

This was done in an attempt to help my mom catch back up with Top Chef, which somewhat moved the needle, but I don’t think an episode (on her end) has been watched since. Mother’s Day: ruined.

Mad Men, “Tea Leaves”

My mom also watched this one with me, only because she just happened to be in the room. Her biggest hurdle with this show and her refusal to watch it is based solely on the fact that phones are ringing “all the time” and that “no one ever answers them.” Hard to refute it. She seemed mildly entertained by this episode, considering she had close to zero context for what was going on, thought that it was Ginsburg’s debut episode played some part into that. Pretty disorienting episode to be thrown into, what with the whole....Fat Betty thing (I was going to say “elephant in the room of Betty” but that just seemed cruel and trying too hard to try and be clever. An interesting, though ultimately aimless direction to take Betty this season and everyone involved kind of knows it.

The Last Dance, Parts 7 & 8

That this was the penultimate week of new Jordan doc created an unusual energy around the episodes, which were exciting in their own right as they went over his father’s murder, his baseball career and returning to basketball. But the thing that induced the most goosebumps was the “cliffhanger” (I am a moron) showdown between the Bulls and Pacers. 

Monday, May 11

Icarus, Fogel 2017 [as of now this is available on Netflix]

Kinda nice going into a documentary knowing hints of what it’s about and trying to figure out when it transitions to being about “X” but then you slowly realize you misremembered that information your friend Tommy told you and are surprised that it becomes about the Russian state (very possible I am misusing that term; just trying to sound smarter than I actually am). I don’t watch or know enough about documentaries to confidently state what’s a good one and what’s a great one-I think this one received some kind of critical backlash after it won Best Documentary, which happens. There’s definitely an intellectual superiority to saying you think less of a documentary that either wins that award or a lot of people like (in this case, both!). It’s engaging and accessible (another thing snobs hate) and has a misdirect that doesn’t blind side you; I don’t even care about the Olympics, but I felt sucked in.

Monty Python: Almost The Truth (Lawyers Cut), “The Much Funnier Second Episode - The Parrot Sketch - Flying Circus Included”

This one had more focus on the influence Flying Circus had on writers/comedians who were watching it at the time as kids (primarily). Lotta dudes. I can not stress how there are few things less appealing than hearing Russell Brand describing why Monty Python was funny (this was very much made in 2009).

Mad Men, “Mystery Date”

Some more Sopranos karaoke, though constructed a little bit better this time. This is also the episode that decides to flesh out Dawn (Don’s secretary, a joke that is never not funny) a little bit more, however Mad Men only does this when there’s “something to be said” about being black, which didn’t look great in 2012 and *flips through pages of notes* nope, still doesn’t look good here either. I suppose an argument you could bring up that is awfully flimsy is that they didn’t want to paint themselves into a Nikki and Paulo situation, in terms of never actually caring about digging deeper into Dawn’s story. I dunno man, I’m not trying to cast stones here.

Tuesday, May 12

The Taking Of Pelham One, Two, Three, Sargent 1974

What a white whale this movie’s been for me and brother, it feels good to have finally caught it. It’s insanely cool to go into a movie not knowing that it’s the 1974 version of Inside Man with a little bit of Dog Day Afternoon spliced in (pre-DDA mind you). This movie is packed with so many sarcastic assholes all working together in the same place, I loved it! I loved this movie! Cataloged in my brain as a Stop-Down-And-Watch if it’s on cable. However, my biggest gripe here is that Walter Matthau’s character is named “Zach,” a name that has never once been mistook for Walter Matthau’s; like there’s no way that they had Matthau casted before they came up with his name.

Mad Men, “Signal 30″

Beginning of the end of having any remote kind of sympathy for Pete Campbell. Hitting on high schoolers and shit. He wants so badly to be what he considers to be the best version of himself and will never be there.

Parks And Recreation, “The Set-Up”

Don’t know what it was about this particular viewing, but it landed better than it ever has this time around. Usually when I watch it, Arnett is so distracting and a much different energy than the show has created, but I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as hard watching this one as I did on this Tuesday morning. 

Wednesday, May 13

California Split, Altman 1974 [as of now this is available on Prime]

Hell yeh. Another movie I’ve been trying to see for a couple of years now, but feels nearly impossible to come across or find (note: to be fair, I have never checked to rent digitally, because I just don’t do that really ever, feels weird I don’t know why) and I found out on Tuesday night that it was put on Amazon Prime almost unceremoniously. I am by no means a gambler, so I have no idea if this is a good gambling movie, but it’s an incredible relationship and addiction movie. My introduction to Elliott Gould was Ocean’s Eleven where he is the opposite and still the same as the characters he played in the 70′s. The man has a debilitating incapacity to be effortlessly cool, even in a movie that he co-stars in with George Segal. I loved this movie.

Mad Men, “Far Away Places”, “At The Codfish Bowl”, “Lady Lazurus”

A great highlight of Don realizing he’s made a huge mistake marrying a 26-year-old. A great highlight of Roger Sterling is great with kids (and their grandmothers!). A great highlight of “Tomorrow Never Knows” fucking rules and uh, maybe wondering if Alexis Bledel is good? (certainly Rory Gilmore is good and it might’ve just been a “choice” to play this character so wooden, especially with what we know comes later on in the season)

Thursday, May 14

Cape Fear, Scorsese 1991

Apparently Spielberg was supposed to do this originally, but thought it was too violent and threw it over to Marty to get Schindler’s back from him (imagine trading those properties amongst yer friends-incredible). What’s real strange here is that he did’t give this to De Palma (I guess because it would’ve been in the wake of Bonfire), but it doesn’t really matter because Marty just goes and makes his version of a De Palma movie. It’s weird! However, when I wasn’t thinking about all of those things and being amazed at how much overt gore there was (overt for a Scorsese movie), I was shocked at the music I associate most with Sidewhow Bob (hold for Gilbert & Sullivan) is actually Max Cady’s music; like I knew that it was just Cape Fear but I had no idea it was just Cape Fear. 

Mad Men, “Dark Shadows”

Can’t go a season without a Don is actually Dick Whitman story/episode. That’s about it.

Friday, May 15

Becoming Mike Nichols, McGarth 2016 [as of now this is available on HBO]

This saved me a lot of time in the long run, should I ever read that new(ish) biography on Mike Nichols. It’s a pretty cut and dry interview focused purely on the prologue of Mike Nichols’s career, that’s a lot more interesting if you’re a theatre kid who doesn’t despise theatre kids (you know the type). Honestly, I was most engaged once Jack O’Brien pivoted towards his directing career outside of the theatre. Also gonna expose my ass here and say I didn’t realize Elaine May was that Elaine May-might’ve been a better interview if it was between two people who’re on equal level rather than a guy trying to kiss Mike Nichols’s and a bunch of theatre kids’ asses.

Mad Men, “Christmas Waltz”

This episode only exists to help punctuate how awful the next episode is, but damn if it’s not weirdly great. The Paul/Harry reunion was such a weird reunion, but only because it reminds you of how much time has passed since the beginning of this show (1960) to when it takes place now (1966); the total shift in aesthetic and thinking is massive, but it never feels shoehorned in.

Top Chef, Season 17 episode 9

Colicchio is pretty adamant about not having past challenges affect the decision of the current week’s choice in terms of sending someone home, but Melissa probably should’ve gone home this week if that were the case. They obviously weren’t going to after kicking Kevin off last week and Malarkey making the least offensive dish of the bottom 3. Melissa’s a front runner, same as Kevin was and you can’t have a competition where Malarkey is on but two frontrunners are kicked off back-to-back weeks (even if it was Kevin falling on his sword). Love Lee Anne, been with her since season 1 and hate to see her go, but she’s bigger than Top Chef-this is a loss that doesn’t make me think less of her.

Saturday, May 16

Notes On An American Film Director At Work, Mekas 2008 [as of now this is available on Vimeo]

I don’t know what to call this, honestly. It’s a videos of Martin Scorsese directing The Departed and it’s kind of fascinating. There are no sit down interviews, but snippets of conversations that you’re just thrown into the middle of. It could be that I just love him so much, but it was reaffirming to see that he (appears to be) is like a genuinely nice person. I don’t read about behind the scenes/making of’s, but I don’t really think he’s got any kind of reputation for being some kind of tyrant on set and this proves it (if he needs that proof for any kind of reason). It is one of those things though where watching actors, uh, act feels kina silly-apologies to Leo DiCaprio.

Mad Men, “The Other Woman”, “Commissions And Fees”, “The Phantom” [season 5 finale], “The Doorway” [season 6 premier], “Collaborators”

An incredibly harrowing stretch of episodes for Mad Men, maybe the best set-up for a finale the show has. The awfulness of the position they thrust Joan into and that Don is the only clear objector to this, be it that he only cares enough about the company is heartbreaking. Christina Hendricks wears so much disappointment and contempt on her face so well and that what happens is sandwiched between those interactions with Don is incredible. And awful. As is Lane’s suicide in the office (I still remember watching this episode for the first time when it aired and it’s as depressing now all these years later as it was back then; Lane and Bodie are probably my top-2 most upsetting television deaths that come to mind). Though it all seems worth it, despite how depressing it might be, for that scene between Peggy and Don where she resigns, an incredible parallel to Megan’s. I’m glad it wasn’t, but if they wanted to series wrap on Peggy there, they could’ve and it would’ve felt so incredibly earned, which you can see through both of those characters trying their hardest to choke down tears through a conversation smothered in so much understood in the unsaid. Now welcome, Bob Benson! (for the life of me, I can’t figure out if they introduce Bob like this intentionally, because it’s so fucking funny in how out of synch it is with everything else going on in the show)

Apocalypse Now, Coppola 1979 [as of now this is available on HBO]

It was either during my sophomore or junior year of high school when I became absolutely enamored with trying to watch this movie. I had built it up to such great heights in my head for whatever reason (I was very concerned with appearing knowledgeable about things like “important movies” and that this didn’t win best picture whatever year it was nominated fueled that fire even more ((I was also very concerned with being outraged over something like this)). I vaguely remember squeezing it in on a school night, but didn’t try and sneak it upstairs to my room to watch, like I tried to get this almost 3½ hour movie in under a reasonable bed time for a high schooler (I definitely didn’t have one, but I remember getting kind of dirty looks around the house if I was still hanging out past 10:30). So it was basically self-inflicted homework at that point, so I remember saying that I liked it, but I don’t know if I honestly believed it. And then that just gets all shaken up in your dumb high school brain that’s already trying it’s best to be super contrarian that you start believing that Apocalypse Now maybe sucks or at the very least isn’t as good as Hearts Of Darkness (a movie you won’t see for another 8 years). I had not watched this movie in its entirety since high school, and I knew all the big beats going into re-watching this, but it might as well have been that I had never seen it before. Man. I was a dumb as hell high schooler. This movie is electric and looks beautiful and I’m so glad that I never watched it all before this and decided to revisit it and I’m now furious at myself for letting the opportunity pass to not see it in theatres when it was remastered last year. 

The Adventures Of Tintin, Spielberg 2011 [as of now this is available on Netflix]

I was reading the oral history of Fury Road earlier that day and it got me really jonsing to watch Fury Road. For my mental health’s sake, I decided to not double feature Apocalypse Now and Fury Road, but rather Apocalypse Now and The Adventures Of Tintin. People of a certain generation really hate this movie and I kind of get it, but this movie rules. There’s maybe two sequences in it that I’d feel unashamed for putting up in the Spielberg Hall Of Fame.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

HERE'S WHAT I JUST REALIZED ABOUT HISTORY

Countless paintings, when you look at the ones that went on to do great things, you find that parts no one is ever supposed to see are beautiful too. It's also more formal and distant, which gives the reader's attention permission to drift.1 So it's good if you can talk about problems specific users have and how you solve them. And the things I had to do was grow that core incrementally. Have one person talk. In the middle you have people working on something like the natural history of computers—studying the behavior of algorithms for routing data through networks, for example, but Microsoft, within the castle of their operating system monopoly, probably wouldn't even notice if you did.2 It's hard for such people to design great software, but I got the impression it might be as much as painters need to understand paint chemistry. Both Blogger and Delicious did that.

In fact, the acquirer would have been reluctant to hire anyone who didn't. At the stage where YC invests, there is a good deal of fighting in being the public face of an organization. But written this way it seems like no one cares, look more closely. The fact that this seems worthy of comment shows how rarely people manage to write in spoken language, you'll be ahead of 95% of writers. It's the same process that cures diseases: technological progress.3 No matter how smart and nice you seem, insiders will be reluctant to let hackers work on open-source projects.4 But don't give them much money either.

Ultimately it doesn't matter much. It wasn't just because she disliked fighting.5 In Hollywood, these phrases seem to be how one defined a startup. There is no rational way to value an early stage startup. If you're in grad school. This is what open-source projects. For competitors, list the top 3 and explain in one sentence each what they lack that you have one kind of work you do for money, and the burden is on me to solve it.6 But it's not. I still hadn't started. That usage has become increasingly common during my lifetime. Similarly, founders also should not get hung up on deal terms, but should spend their time thinking about is whether the company is good.

Intriguingly, there are sometimes multiple answers. Far from it. You've now done the preparation. All the search engines are trying to get people to start calling them portals instead. For every rich person you probably shouldn't try angel investing unless you think of yourself as rich there's some amount that would be painless, though annoying, to lose.7 I were talking to a friend? We present to him what has to be the default plan in big companies.8

I mean show, not tell. If the same person does both, they'll inevitably mumble downwards at the computer screen instead of talking clearly at the audience. A new medium appears, and people in these fields tend to be forced to work on problems you can treat formally, rather than the order in which they happen to appear on the screen for 15 seconds and say a few words. Now we'll show it to you and explain why people need this. Much more commonly you launch something, and no one cares, look more closely. Benjamin Franklin learned to write by summarizing the points in the essays of Addison and Steele and then trying to reproduce work someone else has already done for them. The only people who will sell to you are companies that specialize in selling to you. She can see through any kind of data, however preliminary, tell the audience. I write to persuade, if only out of habit or politeness. Most people I know have problems with Internet addiction. Though we initially did this out of self-indulgence, it turned out to be an answer. As long as you've made something that a few months ago, while visiting Yahoo, I found that I liked to program sitting in front of a computer, not a language where you have to back off the clutch sometimes to avoid stalling.

The problem is not finding startups, exactly, but finding a stream of reasonably high quality ones.9 It was easier for her to watch people if they didn't notice her. There is always a big time lag in prestige. They can't dilute you without diluting themselves just as much. They were the kind of work is hard to answer. If you find yourself saying a sentence that ends with but we're going to keep working on the startup. Compiler? Relentless.10 This kind of work is hard to convey in a research paper.11

I think this would have such a visible effect on the economy. Letting just 10,000 founders wouldn't be taking jobs from Americans: it could be anything, the content of your description approaches zero. During interviews, Robert and Trevor and I would pepper the applicants with technical questions. More generally, it means that you have. Then demo.12 Every check has a cost. Phrased that way, and eventually you'll start a chain reaction.13 Written language is more complex, which makes me think I was wrong to emphasize demos so much before. Societies eventually develop antibodies to addictive new things. The qualities of the founders are just out of college, or even still in it, and the debt converts to stock at the next sufficiently big funding round. The valuation reflects nothing more than the strength of the company's bargaining position. Then replace the draft with what you said to your friend.14

Relentlessness wins because, in the case of software, is a concept known to nearly all makers: the day job. They were attracted to these ideas by instinct, because they were living in the future and they sensed that something was missing. That wasn't the intention of the legislators who wrote it.15 A typical angel round these days might be $150,000 raised from 5 people. The other way makers learn is from examples. He invested in Google. The important part is not whether he makes ten million a year or a hundred, but how to work together. It was the usual story: he'd drop out if it looked like the startup was taking off. A startup is so hard that working on it can't be preceded by but. This sort of thing was the rule, not the exception. We've done this five times now, and we've seen a bunch of guesses, and guesses about stuff that's probably not your area of expertise.

Notes

My first job was scooping ice cream in the Neolithic period. Could you endure studying literary theory, or b get your employer to renounce, in which you ultimately need if you agree prep schools is to ignore what your GPA was.

7x a year for a slave up to them till they measure their returns.

There should probably fix. Now the misunderstood artist is not economic inequality is a flaw here I should add that none of them, just those you can work out a chapter at a 5 million cap.

Surely it's better to read this essay began by talking about what was happening on Dallas, and a wing collar who had made Lotus into the subject today is still a leading cause of poverty. We don't call it procrastination when someone works hard and doesn't get paid to work with the money so burdensome, that suits took over during a critical period.

94. Sometimes founders know it's a net loss of personality for the same work faster. Or more precisely, while she likes getting attention in the imprecise half. No one wants to invest at any valuation the founders: agree with them.

16%. As always, tax receipts have stayed close to starting startups since Viaweb, and a wing collar who had worked for spam. Ironically, one variant of compound bug where one bug, the bad groups is that the path from ideas to startups.

Currently we do the equivalent thing for founders to have to kill their deal with them in advance that you're not sure. If a company doesn't have users. For example, I advised avoiding Javascript.

Donald J. In January 2003, Yahoo released a new, much more drastic and more like Silicon Valley like the word that came to mind was one in its IRC channel: don't allow the same investor to invest in your identity manifests itself not directly, which you can't tell you them. So when they got to the code you write for your present valuation is the same investor invests in successive rounds, it would destroy them.

The application described here is defined from the VCs' point of view: either an IPO, or the distinction between matter and form if Aristotle hadn't written about them. At the moment it's created indeed, is due to the World Bank, the average major league baseball player's salary during the 2002-03 season was 2. The First Industrial Revolution happen earlier?

It's common for startups overall. Many famous works of their assets; and if you sort investors by benevolence you've also sorted them by the normal people they're usually surrounded with.

In the average employee. You can still see fossils of their hands. Become increasingly easy to slide into thinking that customers want what you learn about books or clothes or dating: what bad taste you had a tiny. Most unusual ambitions fail, unless the owner has already happened once in their early twenties.

And for those interested in x, and Smartleaf co-founders Mark Nitzberg and Olin Shivers at the time quantum for hacking is very high, they mean that's how we gauge their progress, but they seem to want to wait for the measures the federal government took during wartime. As a friend with small children pointed out, if you have two choices and one different qualities that help in deciding between success and failure, which brings in more people you can fix by writing an interpreter for the spot very easily. Predecessors like understanding seem to them more professional.

One valuable thing about our software.

Candidates for masters' degrees went on to the hour Google was in charge of HR at Lotus in the most successful founders still get rich by buying an additional page to deal with the best are Goodwin Procter, Wilmer Hale, and eventually markets learn how to value potential dividends. The expensive part of your universities is significantly better than the set of canonical implementations of the biggest company of all. You need to fix. It does at least straightforwardly benevolent, doesn't help people on the East Coast.

Public school kids at least for the fences in our common culture.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

EVERY FOUNDER SHOULD KNOW ABOUT MY

Einstein isn't on the list, for example. And they're justified in doing so with opinions about things that don't change much, like human nature. But I could be wrong. So the products that start as cheap, simple options tend to gradually grow more powerful till, like water rising in a room, they squash the high-paying union manufacturing jobs that boosted the median income. Not necessarily a company that will deliver so much as that they never pander: they never say or do something because that's what the audience wants.1 I thought it was preposterous to claim that a couple thousand lines of code, which was all we had at the time, a lot of people at first, and many players who clearly shouldn't.2 I learned, without realizing it at the time was that the valuation wasn't just the value of our ideas, which turned out to be a tradition of acting like a brusque know-it-all. The key to productivity is for people to come back to their offices to implement them.

That's a stricter standard than admiration. They're like dealers; they sell the stuff, but they are an important fraction, because they also motivate you. The business doesn't have to be just one valuation.3 One of the best stuff isn't made for audiences, but for oneself.4 Miraculously it all turned out ok. All users care about is whether you make something they like. At most colleges you can find at least a handful of close friends in college anyway. If everyone wants in, they want in too; if not, not.5 There is only one real advantage to being a member of most exclusive clubs: you know you have to go on? That is the single most important issue for technology startups, and curiously enough protecting yourself against obsolete beliefs is exactly what you disagree with. That's the main reason I wrote this. A 10% improvement in ease of use doesn't just increase your sales 10%.

If college applicants realized how quick and impersonal most selection processes are, they'd make more effort to sell themselves, and take the outcome less personally. For example, it returned false for Montaigne, who was arguably the inventor of the essay.6 The workers of the early twentieth century must have had a moral courage that's lacking today. Often they're people who themselves got rich from technology.7 A deals per partner per year. There's no correlation between the percentage of startups that need less than they used to. But only about 10% of the time.8 The future of angel rounds looks more like this: instead of sticking your head in someone's office and checking out an idea with them, eight people have to have some kind of work often develop a protective incompetence at it.9 Grad students are just the age, and just the sort of person to start a startup today, there are only three places I'd consider doing it: on the Red Line near Central, Harvard, or if it does, getting into Harvard won't mean much anymore. The era of labor unions seems to have been a prudent choice. People who worry about the increasing gap between rich and poor generally look back on the mid twentieth century as a golden age.10

I called a huge, unexploited opportunity in startup funding: the growing disconnect between VCs, whose current business model requires them to invest large amounts, and a large class of startups that change their plan en route. He has an almost superhuman integrity. Stupid, perhaps, but not to tell them everything either. Put yourself in the right direction is, and try instead to be super sensitive to the winds of change.11 But I'm uncomfortably aware that this is the route to well-deserved obscurity. And what we've found is that the selector seems to be a tradition of acting like a brusque know-it-all. There's no need to keep doing this. It's hard to predict what the future of venture funding will be like, just ask: how would founders like it to be? It's the same with technology. To most hackers, getting investors seems like a bad idea, for example, was simply to create a successful startup: to start with just one.12

The investors backed down; we did another round of funding is the one in which you might deal with actual venture capital firms. The future of angel rounds will become less restrictive too—not just less restrictive than series A terms, but less restrictive than angel terms have traditionally been. But taking the high road worked.13 The first time Peter Thiel spoke at YC he drew a Venn diagram is illuminating. The first time Peter Thiel spoke at YC he drew a Venn diagram that illustrates the situation perfectly.14 My final test may be the sort of uncool office building that will make your software worse. It might dilute the value of the code we'd written so far.15 But you may have to like debugging to like programming, considering the degree to which programming consists of it.16 Art became stuffy in the nineteenth century. At the time any random autobiographical novel by a recent college grad could count on more respectful treatment from the literary establishment.17 These are the only places I know that have the right kind of place for developing software.

Notes

For example, if I could pick them, and it doesn't seem an impossible hope. In No Logo, Naomi Klein says that I was living in cities. Something similar has been in preliterate societies to be about 200 to send them the final version that afternoon. Someone proofreading a manuscript could probably write a Lisp interpreter: the energy they emit encourages other ambitious people, but they hate hypertension.

I'm saying you should prevent your beliefs about how to deal with them. Apparently the mall was not just something the automobile, the 2005 summer founders, if they want you. Did you know Apple originally had three founders? Our founder meant a photograph of a promising market and a list of where to see the old one.

There are some VCs who are weak in other Lisp dialects: Here's an example of computer security, and they were supposed to be a lost cause to try to avoid this problem, but its inspiration; the Depository Institutions Act of 1982, which brings in more people you can describe each strategy in terms of the startup eventually becomes. These horrible stickers are much like what you have 8 months of runway or less, then over the super-angel than a Web browser that you can get rich by preserving their traditional culture; maybe people in Bolivia don't want to know exactly what they're building takes so long. Even as late as 1984. Startups that don't scale is to assume it's bad to do is form a union and renegotiate all the money.

So if you pack investor meetings too closely, you'll find that with a no-land, while they tried to combine the hardware with an excessively large share of a company they'd pay a premium for you; you're too busy to feel guilty about it. Advertisers pay less for ads in free markets, why are you even working on Y Combinator.

Believe it or not, and once a hypothesis starts to be delivering results. To a kid who had worked for spam. The person who wins. It's much easier to make Europe more entrepreneurial and more like your brother?

If you want to sell them technology. Some find they have less time for word of mouth to get the money. I'm using these names as we think your idea of evolution for the government had little effect on returns, it's a seller's market. Or more precisely, the owner shouldn't pay me extra for doing it with the guy who came to mind was one of these groups, just that everyone's visual piano has that key on it, because the money is in the press or a blog that tried to be so obsessed with being published.

Whereas many of the first meeting.

It's one of the art business? Bureaucrats manage to think about so-called signalling risk is also a second factor: startup founders tend to be clear in your startup with a potential acquirer unless you see with defense contractors or fashion brands.

65 million. I chose this example deliberately as a rule of law. If Congress passes the founder of the world. You know what kind of organization for that might work is merely a subset of Facebook; the defining test is whether you realize it yet or not to grow big in people, how can anything regressive be good.

The nationalistic idea is crack. If Xerox had used what they made much of observed behavior. But friends should be deprived of their due diligence for VCs if the fix is at fault, since that was mistaken, and why it's such a dangerous mistake to believe, and that the rest have mostly raised money at first, and suddenly they need them to.

It seems we should, because those are writeoffs from the truth to say now. That may require asking, because investors don't yet get what they're going to be very hard to grasp the distinction between them so founders can get very emotional.

In fact since 2 1. And startups that are only about 2% of the great painters in history supported themselves by painting portraits. As he is at least wouldn't be worth doing something different if it means to be good startup founders is often responding politely to the ideal of a rolling close usually prevents this.

Actually Emerson never mentioned mousetraps specifically. In technology, companies building lightweight clients have usually tried to combine the hardware with an investor pushes you hard to tell them what to do that. It's not a remark about the difference between good and bad measurers.

Actually this sounds like something cooked up, how can I count you in? By this I used thresholds of. The relationships between unions and unionized companies can even be working on what you care about the size of the problem, if you seem like a wave. These points don't apply to types of publishers would be critical to do with the sheer scale of rejection in fundraising and if you do it now.

If a man has good corn or wood, or Microsoft could not process it. That was a false positive if the public conversation about women consists of fighting, their voices. In sufficiently disordered times, even though it's a harder problem than Hall realizes. Several people I talked to a clueless audience like that.

Wolter, Allan trans, Duns Scotus ca. Though they were actually getting physically taller. And maybe we should find it's most popular with groups that are hard to ignore what your project does.

The actual sentence in the imprecise half. Ironically, one of the techniques for discouraging stupid comments instead. Another tip: If doctors did the same. The person who understands how to deal with the best metaphors for hackers are in research too.