#some of whom are VERY successful in their non-writing careers

[pangur-and-grim]

okay sorry, one other thing annoyed me about that writing class. one of the students is this super clean-cut doctor who works at an HIV clinic, and he asked the prof "do you ever get distracted while reading books, because you find yourself analyzing the craft of them instead of sinking into the story?"

and she said "no," and turned away. and the whole class laughed awkwardly, bc it was a pretty abrupt and dismissive answer. so then she turned back to him and said "you wouldn't ask a musician if they get distracted listening to songs. they just enjoy the music."

but I dunno, I'm a newbie writer with only one (scheduled-to-be-published) book under my belt, but I get distracted sometimes when I'm reading. if I find I'm not sinking into a block of text, I'll squint at it and be like "okay, they're using too much passive voice, that's why my brain isn't grabbing on to it." so I'm sorry Mr. HIV doctor, I thought your question was reasonable!

[dragoneyes618]

I have been hesitating over writing this column for some weeks. The topic is sensitive and involves people I either know or admire or both. With the volume of antisemitism growing to deafening proportions, I finally decided it’s too important not to write.

I should also admit to some unease that all three are women. That is accidental, I simply don’t personally know three men in equivalently influential positions.

The first of the three is Lady (her husband is a Lord) Nicola Mendelsohn. I am a friend of her parents and used to teach her in Manchester, UK where she grew up.

She chose advertising as her career and success soon gained her senior positions in some of the world’s most successful advertising firms that handle the accounts of clients like, Honda and Heineken. She has been repeatedly voted one of the most influential women in the UK by several organizations.

Nicola occupies several other prestigious roles like non-executive director of Diageo which owns 42% of all Scotch Whiskey. Unsurprisingly and typically, Nicola is involved in lots of charity work too.

But it’s her most significant role that makes her one of the three women in this piece. Nicola Mendelsohn is the Head of Global Business Group at Meta, leading the company’s relationships with top marketers and agencies, as well as global partnerships.

Meta is the 2021 rebranded name for Facebook. In the last few days, it has posted its best quarterly results in two years. If only that was the only metric for judging Meta, but it isn’t.

The scandals surrounding the company are legion. One of the most egregious (and there are so many) is its inaction over pedophiles. Several governments have accused it of offering sanctuary to child abusers. However, I am going to focus on another of its worst failures, antisemitism.

I have written here before about Facebook’s abysmal and ongoing inaction over antisemitic content on its site. Much worse; since October 7, has been its “Fact Checkers” interventions to quell and stifle posts supportive of Israel or condemning Hamas.

Here’s only one example from the Spectator Magazine’s, Rod Liddle entitled, “Facebook’s not so secret police.”

“A woman on Facebook was warned she would be blocked because she was spreading ‘false information’…the beheading of babies by Hamas…the Fact-Checkers that Facebook quoted were based in Pakistan – not a country renowned for its amicable relations with Israel.”

And so, Lady Mendelsohn, as I know you to be an outstanding person and certainly one loyal to your people; allow an old teacher to urge you to resign.

I am sure you will argue that things would be even worse if you were not there, but… to stand up proudly as a Jew and say loudly and fearlessly that you can no longer be associated with and oppose Meta’s tolerance of Jew hatred, would be the best thing you could do after October 7’s micro-Holocaust.

The second of my great Jewish ladies is Journalist Melanie Philips. Her autobiographical account of her life tells the story of a Jew of evolving Jewish awareness and commitment. It also shows her great courage.

She publicly took a stance against two pronounced enemies of the Jewish people she once used to be part of, the Guardian newspaper and the British Labour party. She resigned from both.

Interestingly, when in 2022 I resigned as a writer and broadcaster with the BBC, Melanie (whom I know and admire) was very upset. I left after an incident which showed the BBC had stopped camouflaging their antisemitism behind the pretense of anti-Zionism. I declared it to be irretrievably and institutionally antisemitic.

Melanie’s distress was about something I said in one of the numerous TV and radio interviews I gave at the time…

“I simply don’t see how I or any Jew who has any pride in that name can be associated with the BBC anymore.”

Melanie passionately disagreed and wrote, “I have no intention of resigning from the BBC… We need more platforms and more fighters, not fewer. Why oh why, Rabbi YY?”

I respected Melanie too much to respond. Many others did challenge her argument, asking why then, she hadn’t stayed within the Labour Party or the Guardian to fight?

The answer she gave in her autobiography was that she simply felt there was no point.

So now, post-October 7, allow me to ask Melanie the “Dr. Phil question; “How’s that working out for you?”

Has your “fight” and Israel advocacy over the last two years made things better at the BBC… or have they become exponentially worse despite your courageous lone soldiering?

Melanie was quite right when she wrote of my resignation that it would not change the BBC’s mind one jot. It did though deliver it a parting blow and brought it more unwelcome scrutiny over its antisemitism. So, to my second remarkable Jewish woman, allow me to ask, is it not now time to resign?

The last Jewish woman in my troika is Dr. Deborah Lipstadt and the only one I don’t know personally. She has been the U.S. special envoy to combat antisemitism since 2022.

My connection to her is through the event that probably defined her career more than any other; her trial in England for libel brought by David Irving whom she had accused of being a Holocaust denier.

I was contacted by her defense team after speaking on national BBC Radio about a Holocaust survivor I knew who had been in the gas chambers but was taken out at the last moment as the SS needed some tall men for a certain job.

English law puts the burden of proof on the person accused of libeling someone to prove that their statement is true.

As Irving argued that there was no evidence to support the gas chambers, the burden of proof lay with Lipstadt. My broadcast and friend testifying on her behalf, was a trump card they could use.

Recently, she joined with Michele Taylor, U.S. ambassador to the UN to write an article in the Guardian newspaper bemoaning the world’s hesitancy to condemn the Hamas rapes and violence against Israeli women and girls.

However, she is crucially part of the Biden administration that has appeased and empowered the source and inspiration of Hamas’ violence and so much suffering in the Middle East, Iran.

That administration’s support for Israel has wobbled and is keen to appease Michigan’s pro-Hamas Arab/Muslim community to get their votes. Then there is the matter of Rashida Tlaib, Ilhan Omar and the rest of the Squad. Oh! and the large number of the Democratic party that are Hamas-friendly. Their latest anti-Israel action is to try to stop Israel replacing Palestinians, (most of whom are pro-Hamas) with foreign workers citing “Human Trafficking” as the justification!

So, Ambassador, I admired the stand you took against someone who denied the Holocaust in 1996, but it is time to take that stand again against the support the October 7 mini-Holocaust is getting from members of your administration and its party. The Guardian column was nice… but it’s time to recapture the passion of the past. It is time to resign.

[bidisasterhawkeye]

As someone who's read all of Lewisohn's books since I became a Beatles fan in the mid-90s, I have been really disturbed by his interviews and general stance since Tune In. I found Tune In itself was subpar as a Beatles biography: poorly cited and filled with fanfiction, to borrow another fan's phrase. Now there is nothing wrong with literary or speculative biographies, but an author should always make it clear what they're doing exactly and why.

What I've noticed about Lewisohn's increased bitterness in recent years is that, while it may very well be tied to his firing/fallout with Paul, it's not uncommon in certain Baby Boomer writers, especially men, especially those who specialized in rock.

I'm a woman. I'm a millennial. And while education isn't everything, unlike Mark Lewisohn, I did go to college, where I got bachelor's and master's degrees in history. I'm a published academic and, while my historical subject of choice was not The Beatles or music, I've also been a Beatles fan since I was 12. I can't help but evaluate Beatles history with a scholar's eye.

I don't begrudge him his success, but does bother me that Mark who - near as I can tell - has no advanced schooling and whose entire career has been freelance writing about music, is treated seriously and branded a "historian" when he flagrantly ignores the standards actual historians hold themselves to. (I'm not a musician and can't speak about any of his musical analyses, but I've never heard that he has a musical background either.) It's not that there aren't incredible self-taught historians, but those people have tended to either have a natural gift or studied history as a craft, formal schooling be damned. I don't think Mark has either. I think he lucked into an incredible circumstance (getting access to the master tapes at Abbey Road).

Back to my original point. When I first became a fan, Beatles literature was dominated by all male Baby Boomer writers, almost all of whom idolized John Lennon. Female Beatles fans were non-existent in the ranks of Beatles scholars, and dismissed and spoken down to in the fandom. There was a tone that male critics and authors in the 70's and 80's, like Mark, had in fact "rescued" The Beatles from their original female fanbase. And what the lodestar, the basis for so much of their research and conclusions? John's interviews. His thoughts and feelings were treated not as something to be evaluated as it would with any historical figure, but the final infallible word in Beatles scholarship.

But time marches on, and in my lifetime I've seen rock and roll fall away as the dominant style of popular music. The internet mostly destroyed print journalism. Music criticism is no longer gatekeeped by the same class of male critics of a certain age in the U.S. and the U.K. There have also been cultural shifts, which always come with time: to younger generations, some of the things that made John Lennon a hero are seen as negative traits, and what were knocks against Paul are now seen as virtues.

From his comments, I think Mark Lewisohn has a lot of anger about these developments. One of the things you learn about history as a field (and why I love it) is that it moves with time. My favorite definition of history, in fact, is that it's the study of change over time. When I hear Mark being interviewed, he seems to be railing against that change. He was comfortable in the 70's-90's era of Beatles scholarship that, among other things, centered John. He doesn't seem to like that John has slipped in pop culture relevance in the 21st century and his image has been corrected somewhat to return him to the ranks of human beings. His solo work is largely forgotten, while Paul's solo "flops" have been re-evaluated into masterpieces. Even when it comes from a contemporary like Mikal Gilmore, Mark is very, very bothered by new revelations or context on issues like the breakup.

A tipping point seems to have been Peter Jackson's Get Back. The success of that project really seems to have gotten under Mark's skin. I don't think it's because of just how positively Paul came across, but how irrefutable it was and the impact it had on how people interpret the Beatles' breakup. None of Mark's books will ever touch the impact of millions of people in seeing the hours of footage of how the band behaved and spoke as real people. Peter Jackson has made the new definitive account of the breakup, and one which shows the band not as fighting stereotypes, but as funny, creative people who are still mostly friends. John is not portrayed negatively - he's still funny and a great performer - but there's no doubt that Paul is shown as the creative force.

For example, how many decades did authors blindly repeat John's feelings that Yoko was ill treated during those sessions? And now we see hours of footage where she was calmly accepted, if not warmly embraced, and 2023 Paul gets applauded for being shown making progressive comments all the way back in 1969.

I think it steams Mark that Get Back continued the 21st re-evaluation of the Beatles where Paul is the standout and creative leader. This is hard to accept for someone like him who is firmly entrenched in the late 20th century school of thought where John Lennon is the hero of the story. He's trying to fight back against new insights, evidence and generations who are saying, "Wait a minute, what about Paul, what about George, hell, what about Ringo!"

I’d love for you guys to have Mark Lewisohn on your show just to grill him. As someone who’s experienced workplace bullying and sexual assault, that he would go so far as to paint Klein as “heroic” when he said things like “reluctant virgin” is just so devastating to me. It makes me feel ill. I do NOT want this man to have a say in Beatles history. I love the Beatles. I don’t want that tainted by people who will paint over abuse just to feed their own self importance.

We vehemently agree, Listener!  Thank you for writing in.

Our list of grievances with Mark Lewisohn is long, but in a nutshell we believe his intent is to publicly “redeem” John Lennon and we have seen copious evidence that he will go to whatever lengths he has to in order to do this. 

That includes, but is not limited to: 

Claiming that readers of his Tune In Series may consider Klein the “hero” of the Beatles break-up

Deliberately spreading the demonstrably false lie that John (and Yoko) did not have a significant heroin problem in the late 60s and early 70s (Lewisohn suggests Cold Turkey is just John playing make believe)

Displaying unapologetic favoritism by using glowing terms to portray John and Yoko as the world’s most perfect romance, as opposed to Paul and Linda, whose 29-year marriage he dismisses as “conventional” and motivated by appearances (namely Linda’s pregnancy, even though it was planned) and Green Card needs

Stating that he could tell from watching the infamous “it’s a drag” clip that Paul was kind of sad, but primarily annoyed at how much positive attention John was getting on the day of his murder

Apparently suggesting to an audience of his Power Point Show that Paul maybe stole a leg off Yoko’s bed (the bed she had delivered and built in the Beatles’ recording studio, mind you), a personal “theory” which is based on the fact that Paul later wrote a song called “Three Legs” (you know that song: “My dog, he got three legs, like the bed you inappropriately brought into Abbey Road 2 years ago which I secretly vandalized behind your back because I have nothing better to do, am certainly not busy writing the Beatles Swan Song and don’t have a fucking 7 year old at home or anything”)

This isn’t even to mention Tune In, which could be a whole separate post and episode. Suffice it to say, this book often reads less like a Beatles biography and more like John Lennon Fanfiction to us.

Lewisohn managed to distinguish himself by doing (some) research and unearthing some original documents. That he had some skill in research is not surprising given that he started his career in Beatledom as a researcher for Norman, on his book Shout — which Lewisohn still contends is a good book. Norman, on the other hand has evolved his opinion of his own work and thinks Shout was flawed, so has written a whole biography on Paul to make up for what he sees as the failure of Shout, which is his underestimation of Paul. Unfortunately, Lewisohn does not seem to have made this same journey. He pays lip service to John and Paul being equal, and then spends all of his time and energy trying to prove otherwise. Norman says that he has created a monster in Lewisohn. We take his point.

One of our biggest issues with Lewisohn is that he vigorously promotes himself as an unbiased truth teller, and his calm manner seems to telegraph this. But it is not true. The research that Lewisohn does and the spin that he applies to his findings are all heavily biased. As we mentioned in one of our episodes, he travelled to Gibraltar simply to experience where John and Yoko got married. Yet when Paul calls the May 9th meeting over management the metaphorical cracking of the Liberty Bell, Lewisohn doesn’t even bother to Google it so he can understand the metaphor.

What he chooses to research is also a form of bias. For example, we at AKOM are very interested in Paul’s relationship with Robert Fraser during the Beatle years — since Paul has commented that Fraser was one of the most important, influential people in his life. Paul McCartney was the concept artist behind Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, the Magical Mystery Tour film, the iconic Apple logo, and he co-designed the covers of the White Album and Abbey Road.  All of these are pretty defining moments in the Beatles’ career.  As Beatles fans, we’d like to know more about Paul’s art education and influences. But we would be shocked if Lewisohn dug into Fraser at all beyond his relationship as John and Yoko’s gallerist/curator (and heroin dealer, but since that isn’t a thing in Lewisohn’s world then maybe he will be ignored).

We think Lewisohn benefits massively from the fact that Beatles authorship was like the Wild West since its inception, when everyone with a connection to the Beatles (plus or minus a personal axe to grind) wrote a book about their experience. It was absolute chaos, with no rules, no checks and balances, uncredited sources, etc. Just an absolute shit show.  What Lewisohn did was bring some order to the chaos with some proper documentation. But again, what he chooses to dig into often reflects bias. And this certainly does not mean that he is intellectually or emotionally equipped to interpret his findings. Doing this takes social intelligence and insight, which is a very different skill. As a creator of myths, he is no better (and no more insightful or original) than many of the others who came before him; he worships John Lennon and freely admits it. He is not even close to being unbiased.  But in this dumpster fire of a fandom he has at least checked some boxes and done some digging.  The fact is, the bar has been so low for so long that Beatles fans don’t even know how to expect or want better.  But WE certainly expect better.  We expect some breakthrough, fresh thinking.  Not just Shout with Receipts.

We think it’s significant that Lewisohn was deeply disliked by George Harrison, who lobbied to get him kicked him off the Anthology project. He was fired from Paul’s fan club magazine, and yet no one seems to think he might hold a grudge about that, too?  Lewisohn so distorted John and Paul’s relationship in Tune In that he believes he is the target of the lyrics in Paul’s song “Early Days.“  And he either thinks that’s flattering or funny, because Lewisohn seems to truly believe he knows John Lennon better than Paul McCartney does.  We find it almost tragic that Paul is so bothered by the way his experience and relationship is being portrayed by authors (perhaps Lewisohn) that he wrote a song about it. In it, he conveys his frustration and heartache about how everything is misconstrued and we find it absolutely outrageous that Lewisohn would not take this to heart.  Perhaps Lewisohn thinks Paul should listen to him for a change? And if he doesn’t like it, then tough, because Lewisohn knows better? We think Lewisohn should do some serious soul-searching about “Early Days” because if one of his main subjects is saying, “you are getting it wrong and it is breaking my heart”….maybe, just maybe, he should listen and rethink things.  Maybe apply a little creativity, out-of-the-box thinking and empathy. This is what his heroes did.

Meanwhile, Jean Jackets are SO BUSY complaining that Paul McCartney doesn’t like Lewisohn because he “tells the truth!” that they fail to notice that Lewisohn has become a mouthpiece for Yoko Ono.  He has already started white-washing John Lennon’s history, promoting John and Yoko as the true and only geniuses versus Paul as the craven, small-minded Lennon disciple who (through no virtue of his own) was born with the ability to write some nice tunes.  Lewisohn’s version of John, on the other hand, is ALWAYS a sexy, visionary genius on the right side of every issue.  He even went out of his way to recently trash Paul’s early 70’s albums, which -in addition to being obnoxious and we believe wrong (since we love them)- is totally outside his purview.

Lastly, to address your original point, Lewisohn’s claim that Klein may be viewed as the “hero” of his Beatles History reveals that he hasn’t shown sufficient empathy or interest in Paul’s experience.  This claim at best ignores and at worst condones the fact that Klein was an abusive monster to one of the two founding members of the Beatles.  As we discussed in Episode 4, Klein was a criminal who bullied Paul in his creative workspace, disrespected Paul in his own office in front of his own employees and actively pitted Lennon against McCartney for years.  It’s hard to imagine ANYONE who inflicted more damage on the Beatles and Lennon/McCartney than Allen Klein.  In addition to the wildly inappropriate “reluctant virgin” nickname, he verbally threatened to “own Paul’s ass” (to which Paul responded “he never got anywhere near my ass”). Klein was so disrespectful to Paul and Linda’s marriage he pitched the idea of procuring “a blonde with big tits” to parade in front of Paul to lure him away from Linda and destroy their relationship.  Let’s also never forget that Klein contributed lyrics to the song “How Do You Sleep.”  Allen Klein literally gave Paul nightmares.  Anyone who so much as pretends to care about Paul’s break-up era depression (including his alcohol abuse, his inability to get out of bed and his terrifying sleep paralysis) would not champion Allen Klein.

Yes, Klein is a human being and therefore has his own POV, same as anyone else.  But a Beatles biographer is beholden to four points of view only: John, Paul, George and Ringo.  And when an outsider is openly hostile to one of the Beatles and damaging long-term to all of the Beatles, it is beyond inappropriate to portray him as a hero.  This type of comment, made publicly to an audience of Beatles fans, invalidates and seeks to erase the real trauma inflicted on Paul McCartney by Allen Klein, and we think Lewisohn should apologize for his comments.

Instead, Lewisohn’s current buddy is Peter Brown, whose book, The Love You Make so offended and angered Paul and Linda that they literally burned their copy (and photographed it burning for good measure).  This information doesn’t appear to bother Lewisohn in the least. Why not?

George referred to Norman’s Shout as “Shit.” But Lewisohn thinks it’s a great book.  Why?

How any Beatles or Paul or even George fans tolerate Lewisohn is baffling to us; we don’t recognize a real human being in his version of Paul, and his version of John is a superhero rather than a man.  We suspect that fans have come to accept the traditional story and at least appreciate some properly-documented facts. 

But as we are constantly trying to demonstrate on our show, just because the story has always been told one way, doesn’t mean it’s right.  Because in the end, Mark Lewisohn has no special insight. He wasn’t there. He is a guy who bought into a narrative during the Shout era, and is cherry picking his findings to support it.You can find a discussion of Lewisohn here

[nevermindirah]

Do you have any thoughts on the use of AAVE for Nile (or lack thereof) in TOG fanfiction? I've been reading some Book of Nile fic and some writers seem to write her as a Millennial™ (using words like "fave" and "woke") but never acknowledge her Blackness in her patterns of speech. I know we don't see her use as much AAVE in the films, but I would argue she's in situations where code-switching would be valued (first in a "professional" environment in the army, then around a group of non-Black strangers).

Hi anon! I have many thoughts on this and I'm honored you asked me! But I should start by saying I'm white and any thoughts Black fans and especially Black American fans have on this that they want to share would be beyond lovely. (I'm not gonna tag anybody bc that feels rude but please add onto this post if any of y'all see this and want to!)

The main reason I personally avoid AAVE for Nile in my own fics is because I'm not Black. But Nile-centric fics by Black writers tend to avoid using much of it too, at least from what I've noticed/understood, and my guess is it's largely for the reason you mention, that she's in situations that encourage code-switching.

In movie canon Nile is highly competent at tailoring her language to each situation she finds herself in. This fantastic linguistics analysis meta shows how skillfully Nile chooses her vocabulary and grammar to meet her goals with different conversation partners in different contexts. In comics canon Nile had a bunch of different civilian jobs before joining the Marines, so she would've had experience code-switching in the ways that made sense for all those different contexts as well as the Marines and her family and high school and wherever else she spent her time before we met her. And now she's spending her time with a handful of immortals none of whom are native English speakers and a fellow Black American but one with a Queen's English UK accent whose professional experience is in the CIA where high-status code-switching is often an absolute must for success or even survival.

Fics featuring Nile are charged with extrapolating from that to how it might show up in her use of language that she's coping with a traumatic separation from her family and her career and pretty much everything she's ever known and now she needs to be able to make herself understood to people who seem to care about her and each other but are super duper in crisis, three (soon to be four) of whom predate Modern English entirely and the only one who's anywhere near her contemporary she's not supposed to talk to for a century. All of these people are telling her that pretty much any contact with any mortals poses an existential threat to her and the rest of the group. How the FUCK is she supposed to cope with that, like, generally? And would it be a more effective way for her to cope if she talked to Andy Joe and Nicky using the speech patterns that she used to use with her mom and brother, to at least retain that part of her identity even if it means having to do a lot of explaining, or would it meet her needs better to prioritize Andy Joe and Nicky understanding what she means with her words over using the particular words and grammar forms she used with her family?

I've seen several fics, both Nile-centric / BoN and otherwise, explore this a little bit in how/whether Nile uses Millennial™ speak. It's often a theme in Nile texting Booker despite the exile because of the popular headcanon that he as The Tech Guy is the only other immortal who understands memes. But Nile's much-younger-than-Booker mom probably uses Boomer and/or Gen X memes and Andy has been adapting to new communication styles for forever as evidenced by her canon high level of fluency with standard-American-accented English.

Which brings us back to people avoiding AAVE because they're not Black and they don't want to make mistakes (or they're not Black and they don't want to get yelled at for making mistakes, though I think many people overestimate how much they'll get yelled at while underestimating how much these mistakes can hurt). I can imagine some Black fans hold back from using much AAVE in fic because they don't want to share in-group stuff with white people who are likely to then adopt and ruin it, as white people so often do with Black cultural stuff. Some links about this including a great Khadija Mbowe video. I'm saying this gently, anon, because you might not know: woke, an example you cited as Millennial™ speak, is AAVE, and that's gotten erased by so many white people appropriating it and using it incorrectly online.

And also there's the part where fandom is a hobby and you never know when you're reading a fic that's the very first thing someone's ever written outside of a school assignment. This cultural considerations of language shit takes a level of effort and skill that not everybody puts into every fic, or even could if they wanted to because they haven't had time to build their skills yet. It's definitely easier for non-Black fans to project our millennial feels onto Nile than to do the layers of research and self-reflection it requires to depict what Blackness might mean to Nile, and it's not surprising that often people sharing their hobby creations on the internet have gone the easier route. There's not even necessarily shame in doing what's easier. It's just frustrating and often hurtful when structural white supremacy means that 3-dimensional Black characters are rare in media and thoughtful explorations of them in fandom are seen by the majority of fans as not-easy to make and therefore Nile Freeman, the main character in The Old Guard (2020) dir. Gina Prince-Bythewood, has the least fic and meta and art made about her of our 5 main immortals.

I've been active in different fandoms off and on for twenty years and I barely managed to write 5,000 words about Sam Wilson across multiple different fics in the 7 years since I fell in love with him. There's an alchemy to which characters we connect with, and on top of that which characters we connect with in a way that causes us to create stuff about them. Something about Nile Freeman finally tipped me over the edge from a voracious reader to a voracious writer. It's not for me to judge which characters speak to other individuals to the level of creating content about them, but I do think it's important for us to notice, and then work to fight, the pattern where across this fandom as a whole Nile gets way less content, and way less depth in so much of the content that's in theory about her, than any of these other characters.

Anyway, back to language. My two long fics feature Nile with several Black friends — Copley and OCs and cameos from other media — but all of those characters except Alec Hardison from Leverage aren't American. It's very possible I'm guilty of stereotyping Black British speech patterns in I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore. I watched hours and hours of Black haircare YouTube videos in the research for that fic and I modeled my OCs' speech patterns on what I heard from some of those YouTubers as well as what I've heard people like John Boyega and Idris Elba saying in interviews, but the thing about doing your best is you still might fuck up.

I'm slowly making progress on my WIP where Nile and Sam Wilson are cousins, and what ways of talking with a family member might be authentic for Nile is a major question I need to figure out. For that, I'm largely modeling my writing choices on how I hear my Black friends and colleagues talking to each other. I haven't overheard colleagues talking in an office in a long-ass time, but back when that was a thing, I remember seeing a ton of nuance in the different ways many of my Black colleagues would talk to each other. Different people have different personalities! And backgrounds! And priorities! A few jobs ago my department was about 1/3 Black and we worked closely with Obama administration staff many of whom were Black and there was SO MUCH VARIETY in how Black people talked to each other, about work and workplace-appropriate personal stuff, where I and other white coworkers could hear. There are a few work friends in particular who I have in my head when I'm trying to imagine how Sam and Nile might talk to each other. From the outside looking in, God DAMN is shit complicated, intellectually and interpersonally and spiritually, for Black people who are devoting their professional lives to public service in the United States.

One more aspect of this that I have big thoughts on but I need to take extra care in talking about is the idea of acknowledging Nile's Blackness in her patterns of speech. There's no one right way to be Black, and Nile's a fictional character created by a white dude but there are plenty of real-life Black Americans who don't use much or even any AAVE, for reasons that are complicated because of white supremacy. (Highly highly recommend this video by Shanspeare on the harms of the Oreo stereotype.)

Something that's not the same but has enough similarity that I think it's worth talking about is my personal experience with authenticity and American Jewish speech patterns. My Jewish family members don't talk like they're in The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and I've known lots of people who do talk that way (or the millennial version of it), some of whom have questioned my Jewishness because I don't talk that way. That hurts me. Sometimes when another Jew tells me some shit like "I've never heard a Jew say y'all'd've," I can respond with "well now you have asshole, bless your Yankee-ass heart," because the myth of Dixie is a racist lie but I will totally call white Northerners Yankees when they're being shitty to me for being Southern, and this particular Jew fucking revels in using "bless your heart" with maximum polite aggression, especially with said Yankees. But sometimes I don't have it in me to say anything and it just quietly hurts having an important part of me disbelieved by someone who shares that important part of me. The sting isn't quite the same when non-Jews disbelieve or discount my Jewishness, but that hurts too.

Who counts as authentically Jewish is a messy in-group conversation and it doesn't really make sense to explain it all here. Who counts as authentically Jewish is a matter of legal status for immigration, citizenship, and civil rights in Israel, and it's my number 2 reason after horrific treatment of Palestinians that I'm antizionist. But outside that extremely high-stakes legal situation, it can just feel really shitty to not be recognized as One Of Us, especially by your own people.

It can also feel really shitty to be The Only One of Your Kind in a group, even if that group is an immortal chosen family who all loves each other dearly. Sometimes especially in a situation like that where you know those people love you but there are certain things they don't get about you and will never quite be able to. I'm definitely projecting at least a little bit of my "lonely Jew who will be alone again for yet another Jewish holiday" stuff onto Nile when at the end of I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore she's thinking about being the only Black immortal and moving away from the community she'd built with a mostly-Black group of mortals in that fic. Maybe that tracks, or maybe that's fucked up of me.

Basically, this got very long but it's complicated, writing about experiences that aren't your own takes skill which in turn takes time and practice to build, writing about experiences not your own that our society maligns can cause a lot of harm if done badly, it can also cause a lot of harm when a large enough portion of a fandom just decides to nope out of something that's difficult and risky because then there's just not much content about a character who deserves just a shit ton of loving and nuanced content, people are individuals and two people who come from the exact same cultural context might show that influence in all kinds of different ways, identity is complicated, language is complicated, writing is hard, and empathy and humility and doing our best aren't a guarantee of avoiding harm but they do go a long way in helping people create thoughtful content about a character as awesome and powerful and kind and messy and scared and curious and WORTHY as Nile Freeman.

[chemicalpink]

JK's Birth time analysis

First and foremost, I’m just doing this to occupy my mind in something else while I go through some stuff, I will continue to use the general consensus of the community for my astrology readings, I’m just doing this for fun, remember that we as fans are in no way entitled to know JK’s exact birth time, these are just fun educated guesses on some alternative that has arisen.

Now, I must say, when I first started the astro part of my bts blog I immediately thought 1 pm for JK’s birth time, I don’t have any factual backup on this one, I’ve talked about it before, I am kind of a human tarot deck lmao things sometimes just come to me. So I started roaming around and I found that JK’s libra rising made sense to me, and it was a general consensus for his readings so I said sure let's go. You know that I endorse and adore having conversations with you guys, my craft isn’t perfect and no one else's is so it is great to hear every opinion to forge our own judgement. I do only present to you information that I can back up, which is why as much as I’d love to I won’t be taking into consideration my own personal hunch on the info I’m about to present you, although you can read it as subtext when it is in italics like this hello this is an inner thought of marinette’s.

SO the big deal: Is JK a libra rising or is JK a sagittarius rising? General consensus says 8:04 am as speculated time of birth, some others say 1-2 pm.

Either way, JK’s sect remains nocturnal so there’s not much to go from there.

When it comes to appearances, I’ll update what I said before.

Libra rising appearance:

Very youthful look that it seems like you don’t even age

Gentle smile

Charming demeanour that makes people obsessed with you

Very symmetrical features

Fit body

Contagious smile

Put together look/ clean look

Dimples

Dark hair and dark eyes

Tall

Oval/Round face

Think Harry Styles, Beyoncé, Niall, Britney Spears

Sagittarius rising appearance:

Bulky thighs

Horse like face

Big forehead

Incredibly tall or more than average tall

Gain weight easily

Not really athletic

Pretty full lips

Think Kim Kardashian, Elvis, Jennifer Lawrence, Paris Hilton

Evidently, other aspects in astrology and genetics can alter these, but it is mostly true.

Now, I am not that well versed in vedic astrology since I stopped studying it due to lack of time BUT the infamous thread that looks into the possibility of JK being a sag rising is pretty elaborate, although it does run more on intuitive processes and symbolism, which are of course, valid, and it really is up to both the analyst and the ones reading the analysis to determine the weight of it. My craft is more oriented towards intersectionality so I don’t like to go by what we are able to see about him as an axis, more like confirmation about it. Idk if it makes sense. I just don't trust seemingly scripted content that much to run my analysis based on it. Everything mentioned about JK Jyestha makes sense when looking at the content presented, and it will make even more sense once we take a look at some other non western astrology systems. Again, I am not well versed in vedic astrology so right off the bat I would fight the conversion system rather than the information presented.

Regarding that thread, some of the keywords used to conclude JK’s Jyestha are as follows:

King, Winning, Ambitious, Passionate, Skillful, Eldest, 1st, Seniority, Expertise, Sensory indulgence, Celebration, Bravery, Heroic, Dragon Slayer, Warrior, Rain, Thunder, Umbrella, Protector, Provider, Scandalous, Impulsive, Bunny, Deer, Earring, Eye.

In western astrology, a general comparison on placements would look something like this.

Sun in 8° 33' Virgo

Moon in 27° 20' Leo

Mercury in 7° 49' Virgo (r)

Venus in 16° 58' Libra

Mars in 11° 7' Scorpio

Jupiter in 14° 15' Aquarius (r)

Saturn in 19° 35' Aries (r)

Uranus in 5° 28' Aquarius (r)

Neptune in 27° 33' Capricorn (r)

Pluto in 2° 55' Sagittarius

North Node in 20° 11' Virgo (r)

Chiron in 29° 45' Libra

Ascendant in 4° 20' Libra

MC in 4° 46' Cancer

1st House starts at 4° Libra

2nd House starts at 1° Scorpio

3rd House starts at 2° Sagittarius

4th House starts at 4° Capricorn

5th House starts at 7° Aquarius

6th House starts at 7° Pisces

7th House starts at 4° Aries

8th House starts at 1° Taurus

9th House starts at 2° Gemini

10th House starts at 4° Cancer

11th House starts at 7° Leo

12th House starts at 7° Virgo

In here, the main aspect I can relate JK to is Cancer MC, MC represents your public self, as well as the success level you might experience. Cancer MC is all about taking care of others, yet it can also point towards a career in arts, especifically singing and writing, it also indicates a strong possibility of psychic abilities which have been widely discussed in JK with his readings and such all while having the main troubles of being an impatient person and sometimes getting self conscious which we have heard him say before when he refers to himself knowing how to do stuff yet he doesn’t think he’s good at any of them, or his letters to himself about having to love himself more.

Another pretty JK thing I’ve noticed is his Virgo Stellium in the 12th House, which shows struggles with identity JK has, once again, being vocal about him growing up within BTS and how that has shaped him and how he has constantly been looking for himself. They often absorb the struggles of people around them. Does anyone else remember him saying he’s okay as long as his hyungs are okay? Also, singing and dancing are very powerful manifestation tools for these people huh maybe that’s why he writes and sings love songs. This aspect also indicates him having the potential to amass a large amount of wealth, some astrologers think about this stellium as an extremely karmic one, which can be translated into the whole JK’s soulmate narrative.

When it comes to his 5th house, it indicates him being a hell of a creative person, especially in a somewhat rebellious sense which I interpret as him getting a sleeve tattoo It also talks about not being traditional in relationships which I believe has come out a few times in his tarot readings.

With Sag rising, his chart would look something like this:

Sun in 8° 45' Virgo

Moon in 29° 46' Leo

Mercury in 7° 37' Virgo (r)

Venus in 17° 12' Libra

Mars in 11° 15' Scorpio

Jupiter in 14° 13' Aquarius (r)

Saturn in 19° 35' Aries (r)

Uranus in 5° 27' Aquarius (r)

Neptune in 27° 33' Capricorn (r)

Pluto in 2° 55' Sagittarius

North Node in 20° 10' Virgo (r)

Chiron in 29° 46' Libra

Ascendant in 5° 28' Sagittarius

MC in 18° 28' Virgo

1st House starts at 5° Sagittarius

2nd House starts at 7° Capricorn

3rd House starts at 12° Aquarius

4th House starts at 18° Pisces

5th House starts at 19° Aries

6th House starts at 14° Taurus

7th House starts at 5° Gemini

8th House starts at 7° Cancer

9th House starts at 12° Leo

10th House starts at 18° Virgo

11th House starts at 19° Libra

12th House starts at 14° Scorpio

In this case, his MC is in Virgo, it mainly indicates a tactful and slow success in someone’s career, these MC Virgo people are often regarded as overly responsible and as people that like to get recognised as people to whom nothing is hard enough for them to call it quits. While they openly seek perfection which ofc JK has always talked about improving himself they often love to do the stuff that others despise to do like countinc, calculating and organising.

Evidently there's no 12th House stellium, he would have a 9th House Leo stellium, which is most of the times noticeable at first glance, the moment these people open their mouths, everything is just extraordinaire, there’s a longing to be loved and to be admired in this aspect. They’re inspirational people to be around which JK is, if I remember the members saying that they get inspired when watching him make efforts. They’re also overly curious about stuff around them big doe eyes anyone?

In this case he would have a 5th House aries, meaning that there’s a need to be physically active and being creative on top of that which I mean does check out. They do tend to be openly superficial people and big-headed when they are in a successful position tho.

So okay, let’s talk native astrology, JK’s Tzolkin is Tz’i-Oc, noted by their need of freedom and less traditional relationships, they work tirelessly and have an innate ability to be successful and accumulate a lot of wealth once again, JK’s position in BTS shows up HE’s in a basic need of having a strong foundation, which he will not like to lead but more take the role of a caregiver that can easily turn into the one receiving care. Here’s the thing, there are a lot of Libra themes in his Day Sign and his Trecana Sign, both of them talking about justice, fairness, helpfulness, as well as him being a nomad which I interpret as having a libra/virgo mix that is really hard to miss Now, this is where it gets funny, His galactic tone is 4, which while it talks about balance and calmness and tranquility libra like it also is represented by a warrior, which is part of the twitter thread as one of the symbolisms to think about sag rising

Last but not least, JK’s bazi, since his contextual situation is leaning more towards it. I did a comparion and it caught my eye the next part:

One of the widely talked about symbols in the sag rising thread is the element of water being consistent with JK, and in his bazi, ¾ Na Yin, the element of water came out, however, they came out when his birth time is 08:04 am.

In his 08:04 bazi, some keywords are:

virtue

star

travel

In his 13:00 bazi, some keywords are:

monetary loss

star of arts

heavenly doctor

So really it all boils down to: we do readings for fun, craft is personal and completely valid in any form as long as we aren’t hurting anyone. We do not know his actual birth time and we actually might never know it, each astrologer is free to work with the birth time they consider the best fitting unless a specific time is given. I myself, see a libra rising fitting, perhaps if we were to trial and error it, some other might come out but honestly, these readings are a hobby and while I dedicate myself to my craft, I certainly don’t have the time that it would require to analyze each placement so I can see for myself which I find the best fitting out of 12 signs. But hey, this was a fun educational opportunity to dive into other practices.

[nimit-blogs]

Three Individuals?

Everything began, when three individuals who usually passed by each other pretty much every day, stopped amidst the chaos, to have a casual conversation in an attempt to know more about each other. Irrespective of the opinions of bystanders, these 3 individuals, in reality, could be identified as - a lost writer, a broken athlete, and lastly, a failed academic "genius".

When the normal chitter-chatter quieted down, the writer broke the ice, by asking what each of them was proud of achieving in their own fields. The athlete proudly spoke that he had been well known because of his accolades and he treasured the respect he'd garnered from his colleagues, coaches, opponents, and a family who was unsupportive of his interest in sports. The academic genius modestly spoke of some of his academic and non-academic accolades but more importantly, about how his work had been affecting people in markets and organizations. The writer said that of all the work he'd done, he was proud of this one monologue he wrote to justify his exact feelings then and that he'd share it at the end.

Moving on, they started talking about their troubles but also things that kept them going. The writer addressed that arriving at that premise to write upon but then not being able to arrive at that emotion and losing the true nature of the original premise, was that one thing. The athlete who had prowess in several sports said that he was someone with an injured knee, which was a hindrance in afterthought. Which of those jumps could be the last of his career. The academic genius was bothered by how much or how less his academics helped him in his professional career, acquiring & excelling at skills unrelated to academics to have a maybe successful career, in a society where nothing but perfect is expected.

With each of them at their thresholds and getting ready to leave, the writer stood up to recite the monologue he'd written.

"So one fine day I woke up, with my body sore and sorrow under my eyes. With no memory of when I slumbered in that deep sleepless night - the sadness streamed down my eyes transforming into tears as her face or even a single thought of her came to my mind. With a deep sigh, I put my fists on the bedside - tears started pouring from my eyes, wetting the floor where I planted my feet. Very Slowly and gradually I realized that I had lost her and probably for good."

The writer remembered that exact feeling, again, and sobbed but was then surprised to see the other in tears too. They remembered that same feeling, the exact same feeling. The resonance was unrealistically uncanny. Why you ask? Well, they were never three individuals but three individualities of the same person. Of whom you ask? Well, I wonder.

[watching-pictures-move]

Put On Your Raincoats #17 | The Erotic Reveries of Rinse Dream

Cafe Flesh opens with a title card orienting us to its post-apocalyptic setting. After a calamitous apocalyptic event known as the "Nuclear Kiss", the world is made up of 99% "Sex Negatives", and 1% "Sex Positives". The Sex Negatives can't have sex and can only watch. The Sex Positives escaped such a fate, but are instead forced to perform for an audience of Positives for their vicarious enjoyment. There are many such venues but the one we spend the movie in is the Cafe Flesh of the title, a nightclub where the decor and patronage evoke a cross between punk rock and retro-futurist aesthetics and a hint of Rat Pack era cool. A smarmy comedian in a white tuxedo introduces the sex acts, which are elaborately staged performances that play almost as genre parody with their tongue-in-cheek choreography (plenty of costumed grinding, as with a performer in a rat costume early on, and mimed thrusting, as with another performer in a pencil costume in a later scene) until the turn into the real thing with the requisite close-ups. Futuristic jazz reminiscent of Angelo Badalamenti's music plays over the proceedings.

This serves as the background to a story about a woman who may or may not secretly be a Positive (played by scream queen Michelle Bauer and, in certain scenes, a body double) and the impending arrival of a legendary Positive performer known for his virility (a towering, square-jawed Kevin James, introduced in black sunglasses and an oversized blue suit). We also get a sense of the tensions in this nightclub ecosystem, particularly between the heroine and her boyfriend, a new performer, the comedian, the owner (who puts the comedian in his place in one scene by having him cruelly recite "the rhyme"). (The comedian is played by Andy Nichols and the owner by Tantala Ray, both of whom played interview subjects in Gregory Dark's Devil in Miss Jones two-parter, which leads me to believe the latter was influenced by this movie, as Nichols in particular doesn't have many screen credits.)

This movie apparently was a bit of a success in the midnight movie circuit, and it's not hard to see why, based on the strength of the mise en scene and the performances. The cool, smoky backgrounds of the reaction shots provide a nice counterpoint to the avant garde looking performances and give the highly stylized setting a nice evocative quality. There's also a level of genre commentary here, as the story ultimately is about the heroine's agency over her pleasure and the roles sex performers are forced into by greater society, ultimately imprisoned by their own abilities. Truth be told I found the performances got a little less enjoyable when they got down to business with the penetration and whatnot (it gets harder to pull off inspired choreography when one of your appendages is stuck in another person, or vice versa), but I also think it's necessary for those themes to resonate.

Cafe Flesh was directed by Stephen Sayadian, credited as Rinse Dream, and he'd previously used that pseudonym on Nightdreams, for which he co-wrote the screenplay. (The director was Francis Delia, who went on to a career of directing mostly music videos and television, while the other writer was Jerry Stahl, known for his memoir Permanent Midnight, as well as writing for shows such as ALF and movies such as Bad Boys II.) This movie similarly concerns agency over female pleasure and is about two doctors (Andy Nichols and Jennifer West) conducting experiments on a mentally ill young woman by inducing erotic dreams and monitoring her brainwaves. There's a dream involving a giant, monstrous jack-in-the-box. There's one with a pair of cowgirls and something other than a gun stored in a holster, with the cowgirls spouting stilted dialogues in robotic monotones, a Sayadian trademark of sorts. Wall of Voodoo's cover of "Ring of Fire" plays over the action (I'm not sure if they paid for the rights, but Delia and Sayadian did direct videos for the band). There's one with a group of bedouins sharing a hookah and then her. There's a giallo-esque scene involving a masked assailant, but this happens after an aborted nightmare about a shrieking man with a hollow chest from his pants emerges a shrivelled up, monstrous baby. Did David Lynch jack off to this? I wouldn't rule it out, folks.

There's a scene where she blows an anthropomorphic box of Cream of Wheat, while a jaunty cover of "Old Man River" plays on the soundtrack and a man dressed as giant piece of toast dances and plays saxopohone. An IMDb user review cites this scene for its cutting racial commentary, but I found this tonally jarring with the rest of the movie. After this, there's a trip to hell where a demon and his minions subject her to such horrific tortures as prodding her with a giant claw and then an even more fearsome double-pronged contraption. The scientists argue over fears that they gave her too much stimulation. ("This woman's on the brink of an orgasm. Let her enjoy it. She doesn't need interruption from a man." "You call it orgasm. I call it breakdown.") The movie then makes way to its final set piece, involving fog, a background of blue sky and pillars and soft piano music. The cinematography in this scene is in stark contrast to the mostly shadowy, intimate imagery of the previous scenes, with the camera pulled up to admire both their bodies and the scene continuing for some time after the climax. It almost brings to mind a certain scene in Jerry Lewis' The Ladies Man that I found disarming in its stylistic and tonal break from the rest of the movie. Without revealing too much, the film's coda sets the record straight.

It probably doesn't say anything flattering about me that I found most of this pretty hot. The movie has a tinge of horror running through it, giving many of the sex scenes (especially the one in hell) a real tension, while the scientific framing device gives it a cold, calculating quality reminiscent of David Cronenberg. (Alas, this doesn't predate some of his most influential films, but for all we know, David Cronenberg jacked off to it as well.) A few of the character names (Mrs. Van Houten, Mrs. Chalmers) make me suspect that Matt Groening might have seen (and jacked off to) it as well. This is pure speculation on my part, but as far as I'm aware, none of them have denied it either. The movie's distinct tone is grounded in an impressive lead performance by Dorothy LeMay. I wasn't all too impressed with her work in Taboo II, but here I think she skillfully evokes the heroine's derangement and "erotic trauma", in the words of the scientists.

Sayadian and Stahl collaborated again for Dr. Caligari, a relatively mainstream effort that also found some success as a midnight movie. I say "relatively" because it's still pretty fucking weird. The movie positions itself as a loose sequel to Robert Wiene's classic The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, this time about the granddaughter of the original Caligari conducting illegal experiments in an insane asylum. From the earlier film it pulls a German expressionist influence, but combines it with a campy, MTV-inflected style to present the asylum as a warped funhouse. The dimensions of the architecture are distorted and full of odd angles, decorated in a mixture of pitch black and gaudy day-glo colours (lots of yellow and pink costumes). This is not a pornographic movie, yet it's hardly less obsessed with sex, as the villain's plan concerns the weaponization of female pleasure. There's also the occasional grotesque sexually-charged image to spice things up, like the sight of a woman with giant, phallic-shaped breasts. Some of the imagery also gives it potency as horror, like an oozing sore or a cake full of intestines. There's a lot of strange, stilted dialogue, as in this exchange:

"Describe your life in three words or less."

"Un-ending torment."

"Elaborate, please."

"Blankety blank blank."

"Thank you for being specific."

This is matched by the angular body language of the villain, played by Madeline Reynal in a deadpan yet very physical performance. This movie also brings into focus a voyeuristic theme, which was present in those earlier movies but didn't seem quite as confrontational in its presentation. A character utters, basically to the audience: "I know you're watching me. I feel your eyes like wet fingers touching me in special places." (This is a line of dialogue that appeared in the next few films I'll talk about.) Truth be told, I was a little exhausted by the sensory overload of Sayadian's style here, and in retrospect appreciate the way the sex scenes act as a counterpoint to his more aggressive tendencies in his more explicit films. But at the same time, this is full of memorable imagery and has a weirdly compelling lead performance. I don't know if there's much else quite like it (or at least operating at this force), so it gets a recommendation.

Sayadian followed up Nightdreams with a few shot-on-video sequels. I skipped Nightdreams 2 as I could only find it in a heavily degraded transfer, but I did make time for Nightdreams 3, which has a self contained story that's essentially a more explicit if relaxed version of Dr. Caligari, once again concerning a doctor conducting sinister experiments at an insane asylum. (This time her experiments mostly involve just fucking her patients and other staff.) There's more of the stilted dialogue, even closer to non sequiturs than they were in the earlier film, with the music by Double Vision providing an off-kilter soundscape to match the weirdness of the dialogue. (Highlights include "My pussy's like an erotic assassin" and "I happen to know she has a thing for longshoremen. Just mention On the Waterfront and she gets randy pants.") The video imagery quite frankly is pretty ugly, with the green carpet and purple drapes that decorate the set looking especially ungainly, yet Sayadian seems aware of this, as when he uses video's flattening effect to create a crude facsimile of a split diopter shot. The video collage style he adopts meshes uneasily with the plot, as if to call out its meaninglessness, giving the whole thing a slight MST3K vibe, especially as characters speak directly to the camera.

Some of these tendencies are honed to a more pleasing form in the two-part Party Doll A Go-Go!, where we spend time with a number of attractive, shapely women in bright coloured lingerie as they spout '60s-inspired dialogue at the viewer in between scenes of copulation. (Not all the dialogue is '60s-tinged, however: "They're overcome with retro wordplay...Us modern girls prefer synthetic future".) Like many pornographic films, this is a collection of loosely related sex scenes, but Sayadian's construction turns those genre requirements into parody, having his characters offer colour commentary (albeit channeled through his campy prose) on their own scenes and even getting interrupted by the stars of subsequent and preceding scenes. The number of quotable lines is even greater than those earlier films, and I admit I was scrambling to write down the choicest ones as there were so many. The best lines go to Jeanna Fine, who also has the huskiest voice and the most penetrating stare, so she was easily my favourite. I certainly was not unmoved when she insisted that she's "never run around buck naked and bubbling for man-winky" or "never wrapped[her] lips around a throbbing johnny". (She does not, however, deny having ever interacted with beef bologna.) Or when she asked the audience "Was I a bad girl?" (said three times in rapid succession) or if we've "ever seen a double orgasm on videotape?" (She adds "Watch, pornhound" and "Calling all porndogs, watch me work, uh-huh.") And I definitely wasn't unmoved when she demonstrated her talents on a dildo dangled in front of her (which she refers to as an "artificial man-thing", a "chubby rubber fella" and a "flying princeton"). No, definitely not unmoved.

There isn't much of plot here, except in the latter half when one of the girls can't stop "the wiggle" and needs to be rescued with an emergency injection of "boy jerky". Sayadian, once again bringing voyeuristic concerns into focus (the characters all talk to the camera), seems to be satirizing the very idea of porn having premises and certain their lazy execution. Even the production design is transparent in its chintz (the movie is shot entirely on the same set, with the bare minimum in alterations to the set dressing to make it look even slightly different), while the video images, which feature lots of Dutch angles, zooms and whip pans, match the campiness of the whole affair. This is probably a little long at a combined 2+ hours, but at the same time, it settles into a nice groove and is full of really attractive and reasonably charismatic actresses delivering amusing dialogue and indulging in "girl homo" (sometimes "big time girl homo") or getting "boy jerky". I don't have much interest in delving into '90s pornography and shot-on-video productions strain the dignity one can feel while trying to watch pornographic films as actual movies, but I'm not gonna pretend I didn't have a good time with this.

[passionate-reply]

What would Great Albums be, if not for defenses of albums lots of people hate? SPK’s Machine Age Voodoo is, of course, one of those albums, being the attempt of a noisy, drony early industrial group to make synthy disco magic. Did they succeed? Well, maybe not--but at least it’s interesting. Find out more by watching the video, or checking out the transcript under the break!

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! This time, I will be once again be coming to the defence of an album that’s been very divisive: Machine Age Voodoo by SPK, first released in 1984. Earlier in the 1980s, SPK had distinguished themselves as one of the most prominent figures of the nascent “noise music” movement, alongside acts like NON and Throbbing Gristle. Just two years before Machine Age Voodoo, they released their arguable magnum opus: Leichenschrei, an album that eschewed a traditional tracklisting, featured the mutilated visage of a victim of napalm burns on its cover, and sounded something like this:

Music: “Seite ((Klono))” / “Napalm (Terminal Patient)”

With their follow-up to Leichenschrei, SPK would take their sound in a very different direction. They abandoned the harsh, buzzing textures and nauseous, whirring drones of their earlier work, and set out in a remarkably more pop direction. While Machine Age Voodoo features verses and choruses, brighter synth textures, and winsome slap basslines, it still maintains a certain “industrial” identity, tying it into the same overarching web of related styles that SPK’s earlier work fell under. This album reminds me a bit of Depeche Mode’s mid-80s output, such as Some Great Reward, in its incorporation of both synth-pop structures as well as some accents of mechanistic clangs and bangs. Depeche Mode and SPK were, of course, passing by one another after coming from opposite directions on this spectrum, but the end results remain comparable.

Music: “Junk Funk” / “Machine Age Voodoo”

Listening to the album’s stomping opener, titled “Junk Funk” on most releases but made into the title track for the US market, I’m struck by just how upbeat of a track it is. Where many industrial acts are keen to portray modern labour as a punishing, soul-sucking, miserable endeavour, “Junk Funk” seems to make it into something of a party. Given that even Depeche Mode were penning tracks like “Everything Counts” with a dour outlook on capitalism, the seemingly playful aura surrounding this single really sets it apart--though not necessarily in a good way. As I mentioned earlier, *Machine Age Voodoo* has consistently been panned by fans of the group’s more aggressive earlier work, and I think the album’s affinities with light-hearted, and perhaps even silly, post-disco pop make it all the more easy to write off as ridiculous and asinine. But much like simply being in a style you don’t care for isn’t a reason to lambaste a work of art, simply being lighter in tone is no reason to reject something. Not all great art needs to be stone-serious, after all! While Machine Age Voodoo may not be a continuation of the classic SPK sound, I think it’s an album that has plenty of appeal for fans of lighter synth-pop, and one that I wish had managed to achieve a bit more renown among those who might be a bit more receptive to its style.

Naturally, the title of the album and the themes of its sometime title track invite us to consider the role that appropriation of “primitive” themes has to play. Ever since industrialization and colonialism began to create large separations between the lifestyles of “the West and the rest,” Western artists from Picasso to Gauguin have found themselves fascinated by so-called “primitive” ways of life, found among communities of colour whom they believed to live closer to the natural or archaic state of humankind, uncorrupted by capitalism. But followers of the religion sometimes known as “Voodoo” are living in the modern world as much as anyone else is, and the use of their faith as a symbol of barbarism or the unrestrained id here is presumptuous at best, and bigoted at worst--particularly given the reference to “funk,” a music style that, like Voodoo, is strongly associated with Black culture. The love for things “primitive” has served an important cultural role in the West, offering an apparent alternative to the crushing death spiral of capitalism, and serving as an outlet for questioning the assumed status quo and the truth of human nature--but at the same time, I think we can fairly criticize it for offering a stereotyped and tokenized view of cultures outside of the West. Machine Age Voodoo offers another, very different, perspective on the Other on its second track, “With Love From China.”

Music: “With Love From China”

Compared to “Junk Funk,” “With Love From China” is distinguished as one of the album’s more plaintive and less dancefloor-oriented tracks, and, in contrast to “Junk Funk”’s joyful embrace of “high technology hoodoo,” “With Love From China” portrays the titular Communist power as something quite sinister. While a simple read of the lyrics suggests that it may be a triumphant hymn to the state, the track’s plodding, dirgelike melody makes it hang like an ominous cloud instead. Arguably the most successful state to be built upon Marxist ideals, China is a prominent feature of lots of early 80s synth-pop, where it and other Communist states saw varying portrayals as anywhere from dystopian to utopian. Like the appropriation of “voodoo” earlier, the dread romanticism applied to China by SPK on this track says more about them than it does about China itself. I think both tracks, taken together, paint a picture of a sort of “anywhere but here” ideology, defined less by any strong feelings for these particular cultures, and more by a desire for an escape to the exotic, and an abandonment of all that is sick about the West. Overall, though, “With Love From China” isn’t necessarily a fair representation of the average track on Machine Age Voodoo, as the album consists mostly of higher-energy tracks, like “Metal Dance.”

Music: “Metal Dance”

Perhaps the track most clearly aimed at nightclub rotation, “Metal Dance” feels like a logical choice for the album’s first single. Less of a pop tune and more of a floorfiller, “Metal Dance” still hums with industrial touches, propelled by clunking metallic percussion and chant-like shouts that prefigure the synthesis of machine music and club fare that EBM acts like Nitzer Ebb would achieve later in the 1980s. With its succinct title and a compelling hook that implores us to “synthesize our dreams away,” “Metal Dance” almost feels like a love letter to the sheer concept of electronic music for dancing to--a consummate paean to the discotheque, even if it comes from what may seem like an unlikely, and perhaps dishonest, source. A similar embrace of dance music qua dance music is found on “High Tension.”

Music: “High Tension”

If “Metal Dance” sounds like a preview of later industrial dance genres like EBM, then “High Tension” feels like a throwback to the first attempts to “synthesize” an electronic disco, with its dense, complex production style, prominent bass, and lyrics that promote “danc[ing] ‘til you drop” as a response to “bad times.” Despite its compelling use of a well-textured vocoder, “High Tension” veers away from the worship of the machine that was central to “Metal Dance,” and its straightforward celebration of dancing itself makes it feel like the most likely genuine crossover hit on the album--not that it really had any. It’s also worth noting that the track’s bridge contains an early reference to “hip-hop,” back when artists like Man Parrish were freely using the term to describe club-friendly electro that didn’t necessarily include rapping. Times have changed, of course, but I think “High Tension” fits right in with other works in that style--even if, again, it comes from a group that nobody would have expected to make music like this!

On the cover of Machine Age Voodoo, we see a fantasy cityscape, defined by a massive tower crowned with the band’s name accompanied by a Communist-inspired red star. It’s as firmly removed from the vile and shocking imagery of Leichenschrei as the music contained within. But, just as the music has retained some degree of industrial sentiments, the cover is not without its own sense of subversion--it is, after all, apparently enshrining the ostensibly dangerous, foreign ideology of Communism!

It’s tempting to compare this image to the futuristic imagery of Fritz Lang’s classic silent film, Metropolis, particularly given that there’s also a track on the album that shares that title. But I think that the visual style employed here, with its blocky, cubistic rendering of form and lively use of diagonals to enrich its composition, is perhaps more reminiscent of the work of the Russian avant-garde of the 1910s. Even before the Russian Revolution, pioneering abstract artists, like the “Rayonist” Natalia Goncharova, were looking towards the exciting potential of the future, and making art that celebrated the beauty of machines in motion. The early abstraction of painters like Goncharova would go on to influence the abstract art associated with the early days of the Soviet Union, which makes it a particularly fitting affinity given the themes of Machine Age Voodoo.

After Machine Age Voodoo, SPK never returned to making more melodic music--perhaps unsurprisingly, given the album’s simultaneous failure to achieve crossover success, or retain the interest of their existing fanbase. They returned in 1986 with Zamia Lehmanni: Songs of Byzantine Flowers, an album of dark ambient music that avoided slavishly copying earlier works like Leichenschrei, while still feeling like a worthy continuation of the spirit in which they had begun their career.

Music: “Invocation to Secular Heresies”

My favourite track on Machine Age Voodoo is “Seduction,” which is easy to overlook as it actually only appeared on the US release of the album. “Seduction” is striking for its blatant, wantonly sexual lyricism, which, when combined with SPK vocalist Sinan Leong’s competently sultry vocal style, recalls the best work of the experimental disco outfit Gina X Performance. And much like Gina X Performance, there’s a bit of subversively queer gender-bending to be had here, as a male backing vocalist repeats Leong’s line, “you call yourself a man?” I think that may be unintentional, a sort of happy accident, but I love it nonetheless. That’s all I have for today--thanks for listening!

Music: “Seduction”

[kuramirocket]

Whenever I visit Olvera Street, as I did a couple of weeks ago, my walk through the historic corridor is always the same.

Start at the plaza. Pass the stand where out-of-towners and politicians have donned sombreros and serapes for photos ever since the city turned this area into a tourist trap in 1930.

Look at the vendor stalls. Wonder if I need a new guayabera. Gobble up two beef taquitos bathed in avocado salsa at Cielito Lindo. Then return to my car and go home.

I’ve done this walk as a kid, and as an adult. For food crawls and quick lunches. With grad students on field trips, and with the late Anthony Bourdain for an episode of his “Parts Unknown.”

This last visit was different, though: I had my own camera crew with me.

My last chance at Hollywood fame was going to live or die on Olvera Street.

I was shooting a sizzle reel — footage that a producer will turn into a clip for television executives to determine whether I’m worthy of a show. In this case, I want to turn my 2012 book “Taco USA: How Mexican Food Conquered America” into the next “Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives.” Or “Somebody Feed Phil.” Or an Alton Brown ripoff. Or a TikTok series.

Anything at this point, really.

For more than a decade, I’ve tried to break into Hollywood with some success — but the experience has left me cynical. Personal experience and the historical record have taught me that studios and streamers still want Mexicans to stay in the same cinematic lane that American film has paved for more than a century. We’re forever labeled… something. Exotic. Dangerous. Weighed down with problems. Never fully developed, autonomous humans. Always “Mexican.”

Even if we’re natives of Southern California. Especially if we’re natives of Southern California.

I hope my sizzle reel will lead to something different. I doubt it will because the issue is systemic. Industry executives, producers, directors and scriptwriters can only portray the Mexicans they know — and in a perverse, self-fulfilling prophecy, they mostly only know the Mexicans their industry depicts even in a region where Latinos make up nearly half the population.

The vicious cycle even infects creators like me.

As the film crew and I left for our next location, I stopped and looked around. We were right where I began, except I now looked south on Main Street. The plaza was to my left. City Hall loomed on the horizon. The vista was the same as the opening scene of “Bordertown,” a 1935 Warner Bros. film I had seen the night before. It was the first Hollywood movie to address modern-day Mexican Americans in Los Angeles.

What I saw was more than déjà vu. It was a reminder that 86 years later, Hollywood’s Mexican problem hasn’t really progressed at all.

Birth of a stereotype

Screen misrepresentation of Mexicans isn’t just a longstanding wrong; it’s an original sin. And it has an unsurprising Adam: D.W. Griffith.

He’s most infamous for reawakening the Ku Klux Klan with his 1915 epic “The Birth of a Nation.” Far less examined is how Griffith’s earliest works also helped give American filmmakers a language with which to typecast Mexicans.

Two of his first six films were so-called “greaser” movies, one-reelers where Mexican Americans were racialized as inherently criminal and played by white people. His 1908 effort “The Greaser’s Gauntlet” is the earliest film to use the slur in its title. Griffith filmed at least eight greaser movies on the East Coast before heading to Southern California in early 1910 for better weather.

The new setting allowed Griffith to double down on his Mexican obsession. He used the San Gabriel and San Juan Capistrano missions as backdrops for melodramas embossed with the Spanish Fantasy Heritage, the white California myth that romanticized the state’s Mexican past even as it discriminated against the Mexicans of the present.

In films such as his 1910 shorts “The Thread of Destiny,” “In Old California” (the first movie shot in what would become Hollywood) and “The Two Brothers,” Griffith codified cinematic Mexican characters and themes that persist. The reprobate father. The saintly mother. The wayward son. The idea that Mexicans are forever doomed because they’re, well, Mexicans.

Griffith based his plots not on how modern-day Mexicans actually lived, but rather on how white people thought they did. 

A riot nearly broke out as Latinos felt the scene mocked them. It was perhaps the earliest Latino protest against negative depictions of them on the big screen.

But the threat of angry Mexicans didn’t kill greaser movies. Griffith showed the box-office potential of the genre, and many American cinematic pioneers dabbled in them. Thomas Edison’s company shot some, as did its biggest rival, Vitagraph Studios. So did Mutual Film, an early home for Charlie Chaplin. Horror legend Lon Chaney played a greaser. The first western star, Broncho Billy Anderson, made a career out of besting them.

These films were so noxious that the Mexican government in 1922 banned studios that produced them from the country until they “retired... denigrating films from worldwide circulation,” according to a letter that Mexican President Álvaro Obregón wrote to his Secretariat of External Relations. The gambit worked: the greaser films ended. Screenwriters instead reimagined Mexicans as Latin lovers, Mexican spitfires, buffoons, peons, mere bandits and other negative stereotypes.

That’s why “Bordertown” surprised me when I finally saw it. The Warner Bros. movie, starring Paul Muni as an Eastside lawyer named Johnny Ramirez and Bette Davis as the temptress whom he spurns, was popular when released. Today, it’s almost impossible to see outside of a hard-to-find DVD and an occasional Muni marathon on Turner Classic Movies.

Based on a novel of the same name; Muni was a non-Mexican playing a Mexican. Johnny Ramirez had a fiery temper, a bad accent and repeatedly called his mother (played by Spanish actress Soledad Jiminez ) “mamacita,” who in turn calls him “Juanito.” The infamous, incredulous ending has Ramirez suddenly realizing the vacuity of his fast, fun life and returning to the Eastside “back where I belong ... with my own people.” And the film’s poster features a bug-eyed, sombrero-wearing Muni pawing a fetching Davis, even though Ramirez never made a move on Davis’ character or wore a sombrero.

These and other faux pas (like Ramirez’s friends singing “La Cucaracha” at a party) distract from a movie that didn’t try to mask the discrimination Mexicans faced in 1930s Los Angeles. Ramirez can’t find justice for his neighbor, who lost his produce truck after a drunk socialite on her way back from dinner at Las Golondrinas on Olvera Street smashed into it. That very socialite, whom Ramirez goes on to date (don’t ask), repeatedly calls him “Savage” as a term of endearment. When Ramirez tires of American bigotry and announces he’s moving south of the border to run a casino, a priest in brownface asks him to remain.

“For what?” Ramirez replies. “So those white little mugs who call themselves gentlemen and aristocrats can make a fool out of me?”

“Bordertown” sprung up from Warner Bros.’ Depression-era roster of social-problem films that served as a rough-edged alternative to the escapism offered by MGM, Disney and Paramount. But its makers committed the same error Griffith did: They fell back on tropes instead of talking to Mexicans right in front of them who might offer a better tale.

Just take the first shot of “Bordertown,” the one I inadvertently recreated on my television shoot.

Under a title that reads “Los Angeles … the Mexican Quarter,” viewers see Olvera Street’s plaza emptier than it should be. That’s because just four years earlier, immigration officials rounded up hundreds of individuals at that very spot. The move was part of a repatriation effort by the American government that saw them boot about a million Mexicans — citizens and not — from the United States during the 1930s.

Following that opening shot is a brief glimpse of a theater marquee that advertises a Mexican music trio called Los Madrugadores (“The Early Risers”). They were the most popular Spanish-language group in Southern California at the time, singing traditional corridos but also ballads about the struggles Mexicans faced in the United States. Lead singer Pedro J. González hosted a popular AM radio morning show heard as far away as Texas that mixed music and denunciations against racism.

By the time “Bordertown” was released in 1935, Gonzalez was in San Quentin, jailed by a false accusation of statutory rape pursued by an L.A. district attorney’s office happy to lock up a critic. He was freed in 1940 after the alleged victim recanted her confession, then summarily deported to Tijuana, where Gonzalez continued his career before returning to California in the 1970s.

Doesn’t Gonzalez and his times make a better movie than “Bordertown”? Warner Bros. could have offered a bold corrective to the image of Mexican Americans if they had just paid attention to their own footage! Instead, Gonzalez’s saga wouldn’t be told on film until a 1984 documentary and 1988 drama.

Both were shot in San Diego. Both received only limited screenings at theaters across the American Southwest and an airing on PBS before going on video. No streamer carries it.

How Hollywood imagines Mexicans versus how we really are turned real for me in 2013, when I became a consulting producer for a Fox cartoon about life on the U.S.-Mexico border.

The title? “Bordertown.”

It aired in 2015 and lasted one season. I enjoyed the end product. I even got to write an episode, which just so happened to be the series finale.

The gig was a dream long deferred. My bachelor’s degree from Chapman University was in film. I had visions of becoming the brown Tarantino or a Mexican Truffaut before journalism got in the way. Over the years, there was Hollywood interest in articles or columns I wrote but never anything that required I do more than a couple of meetings — or scripts by white screenwriters that went nowhere.

But “Bordertown” opened up more doors for me and inspired me to give Hollywood a go.

While I worked on the cartoon, I got another consulting producer credit on a Fusion special for comedian Al Madrigal and sold a script to ABC that same year about gentrification in Boyle Heights through the eyes of a restaurant years before the subject became a trend. Pitch meetings piled up with so much frequency that my childhood friends coined a nickname for me: Hollywood Gus.

My run wouldn’t last long. The microagressions became too annoying.

The veteran writers on “Bordertown” rolled their eyes any time I said that one of their jokes was clichéd, like the one about how eating beans gave our characters flatulent superpowers or the one about a donkey show in Tijuana. Or when they initially rejected a joke about menudo, saying no one knew what the soup was, and they weren’t happy when another Latino writer and I pointed out that you’re pretty clueless if you’ve lived in Southern California for a while and don’t know what menudo is.

The writers were so petty, in fact, that they snuck a line into the animated “Bordertown” where the main character said, “There’s nothing worse than a Mexican with glasses” — which is now my public email to forever remind me of how clueless Hollywood is.

The insults didn’t bother me so much as the insight I gained from those interactions: The only Latinos most Hollywood types know are the janitors and security guards at the studio, and nannies and gardeners at their homes. The few Latinos in the industry I met had assimilated into this worldview as well.

Could I blame them for their ignorance when it came to capturing Mexican American stories, especially those in Southern California? Of course I can.

What ended any aspirations for a full-time Hollywood career was a meeting with a television executive shortly after ABC passed on my Boyle Heights script (characters weren’t believable, per the rejection). They repeatedly asked that I think about doing a show about my father’s life, which didn’t interest me. Comedies about immigrant parents are clichéd at this point. So one day I blurted that I was more interested in telling my stories.

I never heard from the executive again.

A pair of boots

Five years later, and that Hollywood dream just won’t leave me.

I’m not leaving journalism. But at this point, I just want to prove to myself that I can help exorcise D.W. Griffith’s anti-Mexican demons from Hollywood once and for all. That I can show the Netflix honcho they were wrong for passing on a “Taco USA” series with the excuse that the topic of Mexican food in the United States was too “limited.” And the Food Network people who said they just couldn’t see a show about the subject as being as “fun” as it was. Or the bigtime Latino actor’s production company who wanted the rights to my "¡Ask a Mexican!” book, then ghosted me after I said I didn’t hold them but I did own the rights to my brain.

When this food-show sizzle reel gets cut, and I start my Hollywood jarabe anew, I’ll keep in mind a line in “Bordertown” that Johnny Ramirez said: “An American man can lift himself up by his bootstraps. All he needs is strength and a pair of boots.”

Mexicans have had the strength since forever in this town. But can Hollywood finally give us the botas?

[ottomanladies]

Hello, since some time already I've been trying to find more information about Ahmed's concubine Mahfiruz Hatun and I couldn't help, but wonder when or how she died. Somewhere I read she died during Ahmed's reign probably by sickness or in childbed and on another page I read the opposite and that she lived until her son became sultan. Also another confusing topic about her for me is who of Ahmed's children she is the mother of. Why are there so less informations about her?

I'll start off by answering your last question: there is so little information about her because she was overshadowed by Kösem, who was haseki sultan. If you look at other valide sultans who had not been haseki sultans, you see that about both Handan and Halime there is little information (in their case, they had been overshadowed by Safiye).

I have talked about her so many times so far but I have decided to put everything I was able to find in this answer so as to dispel any other questions. This is going to be long but I hope clear enough.

About Mahfiruze's fate, there are different schools of thought:

Peirce says that she was probably beaten and exiled for speaking against or offending Kösem, therefore she was alive when Osman II took the throne but for some reason was not called back to Topkapi to be valide sultan, and died in 1620.

Uluçay, Sakaoğlu and Öztuna say that she was alive when Osman II took the throne and that she was valide sultan for two years

Baki Tezcan says she died in 1610 at last (I believe a couple of years later, as I'll explain shortly)

Her name

Baki Tezcan says that her name "was probably Mahfiruz": "Although one comes across this name in quite a number of modern sources, its earliest appearance, as far as I have been able to determine, is in the chronicle of Nai'ma, who was not a contemporary" (The debut of Kösem Sultan's political career)

Öztuna calls her "Hadîce Mâh-Fîrûz(e)" and Sakaoğlu says she was variously called "Mahirûze, Hatice Mahfirûze, Mahfirûze, Mahfirûz, Mah-ı Feyrûz". Ahmed Refik refers to her as "Hadice Mahfiruz" but, as Tezcan says, "his source is not clear".

Her origins

Frequently it is said that Mahfiruz was Greek and that she taught Osman Greek. Tezcan has been able to determine that the source of this claim is not a work of historiography but a novel: Histoire d'Osman premier du nom, XIXe empereur des turcs, et de l'impératrice Aphendina Ashada by Madeleine-Angélique de Gomez published in 1743. Apparently it wasn't the only novel she wrote about the Ottomans or the Safavids.

Therefore even her origins are disputed and unsure. She may have been Greek nonetheless but Madeleine-Angélique de Gomez's novel cannot be use as the basis of this claim.

Her children

Osman II is clearly the only child we're absolutely sure was hers.

Öztuna lists other children: Şehzade Bâyezîd, Şehzade Süleymân, and Şehzade Hüseyn. Those who include Mehmed too in the list of her children nonchalantly forget that Osman was born in November 1604 and Mehmed in March 1605. Therefore Mehmed cannot be her son (it's Kösem's but people just won't accept it).

Cristoforo Valier said - between 1612 and 1615 - that Ahmed I had four sons: two with the sultana alive and two with the sultana who had died. Valier died on 15 July 1615 while returning to Venice so he had left Istanbul a little earlier, I assume. He doesn't say how long has Osman II's mother been dead though.

Tezcan thinks that Gevherhan Sultan was Osman's full-blooded sister because he bases his claims off Pietro della Valle, who says:

"Il giorno seguente alla morte di Nasuh, fu subito assunto al carico di primo visir Muhammed bascià, genero egli ancora del Gran Signore, cioè marito della prima figliuola, che è sorella di madre del principe primogenito..." // "The day after Nasuh's death, Mehmed Pasha was appointed to the office of Grand Vizier, he too the Gran Signore's son-in-law, that is the husband of his eldest daughter, who is the eldest prince's full sister..."

The Grand Vizier della Valle is talking about is Öküz Mehmed Paşa, the husband of Gevherhan Sultan. This bit is the reason why Börekçi too says that Gevherhan was the eldest of Ahmed's daughters.

Curiously, Pietro della Valle's is the oldest work that mentions Kösem by name. For this reason, I guess, he is held in high consideration by both Tezcan and Börekçi.

About the other princes, it may be that Süleymân or Bayezid as well were Osman's brothers. Süleymân was, in my opinion, not Murad IV's full brother because he's the first - with Bayezid - that he executes. That he first executed Bayezid (and Süleymân) means that he considered them the most dangerous. Why? Because they weren't his mother's sons and they could have been turned against him.

Bayezid is believed by Finkel to have been Osman's brother:

In a departure from recent practice, Murad had waited until he was home from his various campaigns before despatching his brothers: Bayezid and Süleyman – half-brothers to Murad and full brothers to Osman II – had met their end at the time of the celebrations marking the Yerevan campaign of 1635 [...] As Osman’s full brother Bayezid could be considered the rightful heir in Murad’s place. — Osman's Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire

Let's leave aside the claim that Bayezid could have been considered Osman's heir because as we all know, and as I am sure Finkel knows too, it is not Mahfiruze's blood that dictates the succession but Ahmed I's. Aside from that, I agree with her. We can't be sure that Süleymân and Bayezid were Osman's brothers (I think Bayezid has more chances to be), but Süleymân was definitely - in my opinion - Murad's half-brother.

The only problem with this is that Süleymân was born in 1615 (according to Öztuna), late in Ahmed's reign and too late according to the European ambassador's claims that Osman's mother had died around 1610 (maybe 1612 at the latest).

Which brings us to our next point in Mahfiruze's life:

Her death

As I have said, European ambassadors were certain that Ahmed had as consorts "the living sultana and the sultana who died".

the English ambassador George Sandys, who wrote presumably in 1610, or around this time, said about this:

"this also hath married his concubine, the mother of his yonger sonne, (she being dead by whom he had the eldest) who with all the practices of a politicke stepdame endevours to settle the succession on her owne...”

This bit not only would confirm that Ahmed has married Kösem at some point in his reign but that Mahfiruze died pretty early in his reign.

Cristoforo Valier, between 1612 and 1615 (when he died), said that Ahmed had four sons: "two from the sultana who died and two from the one alive"

Pietro della Valle too said that Osman's mother had died when he wrote about Osman II's accession to the throne:

"Othman figliuolo primogenito di Sultan Ahmed, ma non figliuolo della sultana Chiosemè vivente." // "Osman, Sultan Ahmed's firstborn son, but not son of the living sultana Kösem"

The French ambassador, Achille de Harlay, writing on Osman II's accession, said the same thing:

"non le fils de la sultane vivante mais l'ainé nommé Osman, orfelin de sa mère des il y a dix ans" // "not the son of the living sultana but the eldest named Osman, who has been motherless for ten years"

De Harlay had reported that Osman's mother was dead even earlier:

That Osman’s mother is dead is also stated in a relation on the life and death of Nasuh Pasha (d. 1614), written sometime after Nasuh’s execution in 1614 and sent by the same ambassador on March 5, 1616 — Searching for Osman

Then we have the second school of thought: Mahfiruze was in fact alive when Osman became sultan and died in 1620. This is usually said by Turkish historians (is it because they don't check Italian sources? Who knows but I wouldn't blame them tbh, there is literally nothing in common between Turkish and Italian):

Öztuna claims that Mahfiruze was valide sultan for two years, when she died on 26 October 1620. As he doesn't source his claims, we can only speculate who his sources are, but it's probably Uluçay who says the same thing:

"But these happy days did not last long. She died in the third year of her son's reign in 1620, and was buried in Eyüp Sultan Mosque"

Even a very recent work of historiography like Aylin Görgün-Baran's essay titled "A Woman Leader in Ottoman History: Kösem Sultan (1589-1651)" reiterates the same thing:

"By the way, the reign of Osman II had caused Kösem Sultan to take action and she had developed strategies to get on with Mahfiruz Sultan and Osman II and established relationships with them for her son Murat IV. She had sent gifts both to Mahfiruz Sultan and Osman II and given messages to them that she had taken their side."

Apart from the fact that I don't believe that Kösem was working to put Murad on the throne (how was she supposed to know that Osman II would be childless and deposed and killed? Please), this claim is not sourced.

She also said that Mahfiruz had died in 1621, in the same year in which Osman had executed Mehmed.

Back to Uluçay, he bases his claims on the chronogram on Mahfiruz's grave but, as Tezcan argues, that chronogram only means that the grave was built in 1618, not that she had died in that year.

The document that M. Cağatay Uluçay, Padişahların Kadınları ve Kızları, Ankara, Türk Tarihi Kurumu, 1980, p. 48, n. 1, cites as evidence for the date of her death specifies her burial place but does not seem to suggest that she died in the year that the document is dated. Peirce states that the document cited by Uluçay is "not to be found in the Topkapi Palace Museum Archives under the number he cites" — The debut of Kösem Sultan's political career

That Osman built a grave for his mother right after he became sultan may mean that he wanted to honour her with a better mausoleum. Also, who builds a grave for someone who is not dead yet and is also fairly young? I mean if Kösem was in her late twenties when Ahmed I died, Mahfiruze must have been around the same age.

Finally, we have Peirce's theory: Mahfiruze was alive but had been exiled during Ahmed I's reign and, for some reason, her son did not call her back to Topkapi when he became sultan.

Osman's mother, Mahfiruz, was alive when her son was finally enthroned in 1618 after the deposition of the incompetent Mustafa. However, contrary to the assumptions of modern accounts, she did not live in the imperial palace during Osman's reign nor did she act as valide sultan (privy purse registers from Osman's reign list no valide sultan). Mahfiruz died in 1620, two years after her son's accession, and was buried in the large sanctuary of Eyüb. From the middle of 1620, Osman's governess, the daye khatun, began to receive an extraordinarily large stipend (one thousand aspers a day rather than her usual two hundred aspers), an indication that she was now the official stand-in for the valide sultan. What seems likely is that Mahfiruz fell into disfavor, was banished from the palace at some point before Osman's accession, and never recovered her status as a royal concubine. Banishment in disgrace would explain both Mahfiruz's absence from the palace and her burial in the popular shrine of Eyüb rather than in her husband's tomb. The Venetian ambassador Contarini reported in 1612 that the sultan had had a beating administered to a woman who had irritated Kösem; perhaps this woman was Mahfiruz. Mahfiruz's banishment would have removed a serious obstacle to Kösem's efforts to save Mustafa from execution, since the party of Osman had the greatest stake in the survival of the traditional system of succession. — The Imperial Harem: Women and Sovereignty in the Ottoman Empire

Honestly, I don't understand why she seems to think that Mahfiruze was alive - like Uluçay says - but then doesn't agree with his sources... strange.

So this is what we know about Mahfiruze. I have left out claims that she was related to Halime (?) or that the manager of the harem was her sister (?) or that she was related to Mahidevran as well (?) because I could not even find these things in books. I'm pretty sure it's someone's fantasy just going around the internet and for some reason people believed it.

I hope I did not forget anything!!

[chaoswillfallrpg]

RITA SKEETER is TWENTY-SEVEN and is a COLUMNIST in SOCIETY AND SCANDALS at THE DAILY PROPHET. She looks remarkably like CHLOE BRIDGES and considers herself NEUTRAL. She is currently OPEN. 

→ OVERVIEW:

The birth of Rita Skeeter, was an event her parents wished to go down in history and raised their daughter in every attempt to make this happen. ADRIAN SKEETER was a respected member of the Ministry of Magic and was the head of the Public Information Services. Rita’s mother, CAROLYN, was a Muggle-Born witch who had managed to obtain an internship at Witch Weekly after Hogwarts and this is how her parents had met, Adrian whispering sweet secrets into Carolyn’s ears and Carolyn using them to boost her journalistic career. When Rita was born, Carolyn resigned from Witch Weekly and became a freelance journalist, raising Rita in a privileged household and exposing her to luxuries many would kill for. Her parents often hosted galas and classy dinner parties with multiple influential people which forced Rita to mature faster than other children her age since she had always been surrounded by older company. Inquisitive and persistent, Rita never stopped searching for answers to a question until she had them. She always preferred to find them on her own and form her own opinions instead of simply asking her parents or one of the many house-elves, regardless if her conclusion was correct or not. Her parents were fond of this and were more proud of themselves for raising Rita to be a leader and not a follower instead of being proud of her for taking initiative. 

With her father constantly at work or away on business trips, and her mother consumed by her small social circle of gossips and day drinking, Rita’s childhood soon became quite lonely. She spent most days by herself, exploring her mother’s personal library of articles or lying on her father’s study floor, hosting tea parties with any house-elf she could convince to join her. The only time she spent in her parents company was during dinner or at one of their many parties. However, Rita learnt that if she hovered in the shadows while her parents chatted away, she’d learn about many secrets and rumours, which she then later scribbled down in her journal, pretending to be a famous author writing her next book, ‘Twisted Truths and False Facts’. Her parents began to compensate for time lost with her and showered her with expensive items and non-sentimental objects. Rita had read that the key to success and fame wasn’t purely talent, but taste. Thus, she demanded for only the best. By the time Rita had received her letter to Hogwarts she had already read biographies or articles of most of the professors and had researched as much as she could about the school. She saw Hogwarts as an opportunity to finally practise her journalism skills on stories that hadn’t slipped from her parents mouths and began to dream of all the tasteful friends she’d meet. 

Rita had been sorted into Ravenclaw instantly, which she was most pleased with as she believed that the blue matched her eyes quite well. Without hesitation, she began to sort through her fellow Ravenclaw students, unafraid of hurting feelings or causing disgruntlement as she searched for friends she deemed tasteful. On the top of the list was CAMILLE ROWLE whom she shared a dorm with. The girls first spoke about their common interests such as designer brands and their favourite holiday memories but soon they began to bond over their mutual dislike of certain students. Another friend from Ravenclaw was DAISY HOOKUM. The two would share the latest issues of their favourite magazines and end study sessions with a juicy gossip session. It wasn’t until BETTY BRAITHWAITE joined their circle that the four girls decided to create their own Hogwarts School paper. With Dumbledor’s approval, the group formed the Weekly Raven which published a variety of articles focusing on school political issues, sports coverage, a gossip column and a fashion section. Through the Weekly Raven, Rita met many other students through the years including CHARITY BURBAGE, XENOPHILIUS LOVEGOOD, EDWARD TONKS and ROMEO DAVIS. 

Rita took the Weekly Raven very seriously and ran the weekly gossip column as she had developed quite the habit of uncovering other’s dirty laundry and leaving it to dry for everyone to see. This, of course, did not sit well with everyone and Rita gained a negative reputation with many. Rita was unphased by this, after all, lions don’t lose sleep over the opinions of sheep. Rita worked very hard to produce quality work and stopped at nothing other than perfection. It was only when Camille shared the secret that she overheard the best gossip when she was an unsuspecting animal that Rita had decided to train to become an Animagus. By her seventh year, she was able to transform into a beetle and with this, was able to listen into many more conversations. Rita had also learnt that another method of gaining confidential information was seduction. Throughout her school years, Rita had made many romantic connections for the fun of it or for whatever story she was following at the time. She experimented freely, flirting with whomever she found attractive. She had never really felt the need to identify her sexuality but she felt most comfortable with using the label Pansexual. Rita wasn’t one for real relationships and her career would always come first, her studies and running the student paper. 

Rita passed her final exams with flying colours and thanks to her continuous summer internships at Witch Weekly, which were thanks to her mother’s connections, she managed to land an internship at The Daily Prophet as a reporter and journalist. Adapting her mother’s approach to life, she would sneak into her father’s study and sort through his ministry files, taking down dates and facts, including those that weren’t meant for the public just yet. She always made sure to use them only as leads, never putting her father’s career at risk. Many of these facts included reports of muggle murders and rumours of a dark wizard on the rise. However, it wasn’t long until Rita wasn’t the only one who was working her way around the ministry and uncovering gossip and secrets. REGINA ROWLE, cousin to Camille was quite the gossip herself and often made Rita’s life hard by spreading gossip around the ministry before Rita could publish it. Other contacts included GABRIEL DUMONT, an attractive french man who now worked as an Auror. Rita often worked her charm on him to help loosen his lips. AMOS DIGGORY, ANDROMEDA BLACK and MOLLY PREWETT were others that Rita came in a lot of contact with. However, these three were a lot less tolerant of Rita and mostly told her to get lost or called security to escort her from the premise.

Rita had a few personal projects up her sleeve, including a book called ��Albus Dumbledore - Master or Moron” in which she criticised Professor Dumbledore for his past with Grindelwald and his methods of teaching at Hogwarts. Her other personal project was Betty Braithewaite. Rita had grown very fond of the girl over the years and now a small crush had formed. The two women worked together at the Daily Prophet and Rita had become inspired by her work. She found the way Betty held herself, confident and independent, very attractive and had started thinking of romantic ways to spend time with Betty. Nothing serious had come from it just yet, just some playful banter from both sides but Rita had high hopes for them. Her third and final project was an investigative one. After hearing many rumours throughout school and from friends of friends, a name that seemed synonymous with The Dark Lord was BELLATRIX BLACK. What Rita didn’t know was why the Black daughter was being mentioned and what she had to do with all of this? Was she somehow involved in the war? Was Bellatrix a Death Eater? How long had she been working with the Dark Lord? These were all questions Rita did not have answers to, but for the sake of the Wizarding World, and a good story of course, Rita had decided to stop at nothing until she had some concrete evidence and a clearer idea of who Bellatrix Black was exactly. 

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

Blood Status → Half-Blood

Pronouns → She/Her

Identification → Cis Female 

Relationship Status → Single

Sexual Orientation → Pansexual

Previous Education → Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Ravenclaw)

Societies → TBD

Family → Adrian Skeeter (father) and Carolyn Skeeter (mother)

Connections  → Camille Rowle (best friend), Daisy Hookum (close friend), Betty Braithwaite (close friend/love interest), Charity Burbage (colleague), Xenophilius Lovegood (friend), Edward Tonks (friend/colleague), Romeo Davis (friend/colleague), Saoirse MacMillan (adversary), Regina Rowle (adversary), Peter Pettigrew (romantic liaison), Gabriel Dumont (romantic liaison)

Future Information → Court Reporter at The Death Eater Trials, Renown Published Author of Multiple Titles including Biographies of Albus Dumbledore, Newt Scamander, Severus Snape and Harry Potter

RITA SKEETER IS A LEVEL 5 WITCH.

[the-desolated-quill]

Why Spider-Man Leaving The MCU Is The Best News I’ve Heard In Ages - Quill’s Scribbles

Oh frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! Did you hear the news? I’d be surprised if you didn’t. EVERYONE has heard the news by now. A couple of days ago it was reported that the deal between Marvel and Sony that allowed the two studios to share custody for the rights of Spider-Man has fallen through. Spider-Man is no longer going to be part of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Speaking as someone who is not only a big Spider-Man fan, but also a very vocal critic of the current state of Marvel and Disney’s cynical and convoluted ‘shared universe’, this caused quite a reaction when I first heard the news. I’m as happy as a man who just found out his high school crush likes him back on the same day he won the lottery. Happy, but not surprised. In fact I’m more surprised that other people were surprised by the news. The deal Marvel and Sony managed to strike was almost unheard of. Two rival movie studios in mutual cooperation. Never thought I’d see the day. But if you thought this was going to be the new norm, then I’m afraid you don’t understand this industry. I knew, or at least suspected, that once Sony had a hit on their hands, they’d cut ties with Marvel and Disney. It was only a matter of time. Now that Spider-Man: Far From Home has made over a billion dollars at the box office and now they have found success with their own non-MCU films, Venom and Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse, the simple fact of the matter is they don’t need Marvel or Disney anymore. So they’ve flown the coop. Yes it’s possible they could renegotiate the deal, but given how unlikely the prospect of the initial deal was in the first place, I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you. It’s more likely they’re going to take their ball and go home. Sony’s Universe Of Marvel Characters (despite its incredibly clunky name) is now going to be firmly built upon and expanded, and I for one could not be more excited.

Of course not everyone shares my excitement. Disney, for one thing, aren’t happy. Nor are the cast. Jeremy Renner has made his views clear, begging Sony to give the rights to Spidey back. (Perhaps he should focus more on his own character Hawkeye, considering what a mess he’s become). Die hard MCU fans aren’t pleased neither. Same goes for ‘celebrity’ fans like Kevin Smith, a filmmaker who preferred to be called a comic book expert on the Venom Blu-Ray bonus features presumably because he hasn’t actually been relevant as a filmmaker since the 90s. (it’s worth reading his thoughts just for a laugh. He honestly thinks Disney aren’t greedy, corporate bastards. ROFL). And of course the so-called ‘professional’ critics, who for years have deluded themselves into thinking the MCU is actually good, have been writing their own little think pieces about what all this means. Can Spider-Man possibly survive without Iron Man and pals to prop him up? To which the answer is obviously yes. Sony had the rights to Spidey for fourteen years before the Marvel deal. They made five Spider-Man movies, four of which were massive box office successes. They also released Venom and Spider-Verse last year. Both hugely successful and the latter even won an Oscar, which is one more Oscar than Marvel Studios have ever won (sorry Black Panther. You were robbed).Can Spider-Man survive outside the MCU? Gee I don’t know. I guess somehow Sony will find the strength to soldier on without them.

Although, that being said, there’s not as many journalists siding with Disney as I thought there would be. There are quite a few articles explaining how this split could help Spidey in the long run, which is both absolutely true and refreshing to see. Hopefully this is a sign that we’re finally turning a corner and critics are starting to use their brains again. Like how everyone worshipped the ground Steven Moffat walked on until Sherlock Series 4 where everyone realised that he’s actually shit and has always been shit. 

Spider-Man leaving the MCU is the best thing you could do for the character at this stage. The way he’s been treated since joining the Marvel clusterfuck has been nothing short of appalling. I’ve made it no secret how much I detest this version of Spider-Man and some might dismiss what I’m about to say out of hand, perhaps claiming I’m biased because I’ve said numerous times that I love The Amazing Spider-Man films starring Andrew Garfield. Two films I will go to my grave defending because they were bloody good movies. People were just butt hurt because it wasn’t Spider-Man 4. Never mind the fact that the original Sam Raimi films were never that good to begin with (seriously, have any of you actually watched Spider-Man 2 recently? Trust me. It’s not as good as you remember it). No, I promise you that if MCU Spidey existed in a vacuum, I would still hate him just as much for the simple reason that he has absolutely nothing in common with the source material. Under the watchful, Orwellian eye of Marvel, they took Spider-Man, a character most famous for being a working class everyman, and turned him into the most spoilt and privileged little bum-balloon I’ve ever seen.

Spider-Man: Homecoming was a terrible movie. Plain and simple. A cynically produced, written by committee, pile of wank that gets so much of Spidey’s character and story completely wrong, it’s almost impressive. No longer a teenager/young adult struggling to balance his superhero life, his school work, his career and his social life, instead we got a groomed Mary Sue who doesn’t have to fight for anything because everything is basically handed to him on a silver platter courtesy of Iron Man. We never see him struggle. He’s not relatable. He never has to face consequences for his actions. He misses God knows how many classes and debate group meetings and yet he never gets punished for it. Sure he gets sent to detention a couple of times, but we see him leave whenever he bloody wants to. It’s just boring. If there’s no struggle, where’s the tension? And the less said about the villain, the better. Taking an eccentric antagonist like the Vulture and turning him into the stereotypical blue collar dad trying to provide for his family has got to be one of the most uninspired and blatantly lazy bits of characterisation I think I’ve ever seen. And that’s not to mention the supporting cast. Aunt May is youthed for no reason other than to make sexist jokes at her expense with every man that comes within her general vicinity staring at her with their tongues hanging out and eyes as large as saucepans. Minor villains like Shocker and the Tinkerer have their characters reduced to unfunny comedy sidekicks. And then there’s Peter Parker’s gang of racial stereotypes. We have Peter’s best friend, the fat and nerdy Ned who has no real personality other than being fat and nerdy (and is without a doubt the most annoying character in the damn film). Flash has been racebent so now he’s the stereotypical arrogant Asian prick. Michelle has no character other than being the same sassy black teenager who don’t give a shit, a caricature so old now it’s practically been fossilised. And then there’s the love interest Liz, a character so bland and one dimensional that I had to look her name up. Oh and lets not forget that the majority of this Spider-Man’s story was nicked from Miles Morales because people are only going to empathise with his story if it revolves around a white kid, am I right?

You know, I get so frustrated whenever people slag off the Amazing Spider-Man movies and claim that these new movies are better because... well... WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! I’m sorry, but I was much more invested with Peter and Gwen than I ever was with Peter and... what’s her face? Or Peter and Michelle (who I categorically refuse to call MJ because she’s not MJ, is she? They just used the initials to pander to gullible fans. They didn’t have the guts to just make Mary Jane Watson black, did they? Of course not! We don’t want to alienate the casual racists, do we? They’re our main demographic after all). The reason why Peter and Gwen worked is because they’re well-written, three dimensional characters with great chemistry and whom we actually spend a significant amount of time getting to know. So when Gwen dies at the end of The Amazing Spider-Man 2, it becomes a heart wrenching moment because we’ve grown invested in this character and this relationship. If Michelle were to die in a future movie, I honestly wouldn’t bat a fucking eyelid. Even Tobey Maguire and Kirsten Dunst had more chemistry than those two, and that relationship was a total shambles from start to finish.

It also helps that Peter and Gwen felt like real people. I loved the scene in the first movie where Peter awkwardly asks her out because it reminded me so much of how I asked my first girlfriend out. And that’s why I love the Amazing Spider-Man movies. Because out of all the Spidey films we’ve had over the past 17 years, the Amazing ones are the only ones in my opinion that manage to capture the humanity of the character. As fantastical as the world is, the characters, their relationships and their dilemmas are grounded firmly in reality. Homecoming on the other hand is just embarrassing. Despite casting teenage actors, none of the teenagers actually act like teenagers. They act like five year olds. It’s painfully obvious that the filmmakers are trying to pander to young kids and they clearly don’t know how to write them. Again, this is where the Amazing movies stands head and shoulders above the others. They’re not treated like kids or teenagers. They’re treated like people. Real people. Same goes for the villains. (Yes, even Electro, despite wonky execution).

But the main criticism people have with MCU Spidey is that these films aren’t actually about Spidey. They’re really about the MCU mascot Iron Man.

Now to be clear, I don’t necessarily have a problem with the idea of Iron Man being a surrogate father figure to Spidey. It could work. Captain America: Civil War, despite the clunky and contrived way in which Spidey was introduced to the MCU (oh you just happened to know about a masked vigilante we haven’t seen or heard of until now Tony? Okay. What about Daredevil and Luke Cage?... What do you mean they’re not in the movie?), did a good job of setting up the dynamic. Namely that Tony doesn’t actually care about Peter or his well being, merely using him for his own ends. Unless Americans have some kind of ‘Bring Your Child To A Warzone Day’  I don’t know about. 

Despite its flaws, Civil War was good because it gave us an unsettling look at the characters we’ve been watching for years. We see Captain America consumed by his own naivety and idealism to the point where he can no longer see the bigger picture and we see Iron Man go from being an industrial capitalist to an authoritarian fascist. Homecoming could have followed up on that. Have Spidey realise that Tony doesn’t have his best interests at heart, reject him as a father figure and grow into his own man. Instead the movie seems to go out of its way to undo all the interesting things Civil War brought to the table. Of course Tony cares about Peter! Oh and his relationship problems with Pepper Potts have been magically fixed off screen and now they’re getting married! Relax people, it’s okay! Nothing morally complicated going on here! We apologise for assuming you’re actually intelligent and promise never to make you think about anything ever again!

Not only is this quite insulting to the audience, it also negatively impacts Spidey’s arc. Turns out the movie isn’t about Spider-Man becoming his own man. It’s about him proving he can be an Avenger. He’s constantly in the shadow of Iron Man and, more to the point, we’re supposed to be happy that he’s in the shadow of Iron Man.

Again, this is where the Amazing Spider-Man gets it right. The first movie is very much about father figures. Uncle Ben, Curt Connors and Gwen’s dad all play a role in Peter’s growth and development over the course of the film. He’s able to take all the lessons and advice he gets from the three and use them to become his own man. As director Marc Webb so eloquently put it, ‘it’s a story about a kid who grows up looking for his father and finds himself.’ Compare that to the current iteration of Spidey where Uncle Ben doesn’t even appear to exist in this continuity because he’s been completely supplanted by Iron Dad. Remind me again why people think the Amazing movies are shit?

The latest film, Spider-Man: Far From Home, is no better. Same problems as before only this time Mysterio gets MCU’d to death. Instead of the pathetic loser trying desperately to receive recognition for his talents, we basically get a rehash of the plot from Iron Man 3, which in turn was a rehash of the plot from The Incredibles. Mysterio is basically trying to supplant Iron Man because he got screwed over when he used to work for Stark, and it’s up to everyone’s favourite wall-crawler to stop him because there’s only room in this universe for one Iron Boy. Even when Iron Man is dead, he’s still front and centre of the fucking narrative. Here’s a bright idea. How about we make a Spider-Man film that’s actually, you know, about Spider-Man? (Oh yeah, spoiler alert, Iron Man dies in Avengers: Endgame. Not that it’s really spoiling anything because Endgame is a big piece of shit).

Here’s the thing. Everyone is blaming Sony for the deal breaking down, and okay, I’m not going to pretend that Sony aren’t cynical. As much as I love The Amazing Spider-Man movies, I’m well aware the only reason they exist is because Sony desperately wanted to keep the rights. They spent a stupid amount of money on The Amazing Spider-Man 2 to the point where it needed to make a billion dollars at the box office in order to make a decent profit (a feat only achieved at that time by Batman with The Dark Knight and The Dark Knight Rises) and they crammed loads of characters and plot points into an already overstuffed movie in order to rush out their own shared universe to compete with Marvel. When that didn’t work, they went crawling to Marvel and Disney in the hopes that the MCU could bail them out of the shit. I get it. There’s plenty to criticise. But for the likes of Kevin Smith and other idiots to only blame Sony and defend Marvel is really quite galling to me because Marvel and Disney are just as cynical, if not more so.

Does anyone here actually know what the deal was? Basically the agreement was that Kevin Feige would get lead producer credit for any solo Spider-Man films and Marvel and Disney would get five percent of the cut. Meanwhile Spider-Man would be allowed to appear in any MCU film. Also, because Sony still hold the rights to the character, they get the final say on any creative decision regarding Spider-Man. Or at least that’s the theory anyway. In reality that wasn’t the case. Reportedly Marvel and Disney were so anal about keeping the plot of Avengers: Endgame a secret that they didn’t tell the screenwriters of Spider-Man: Far From Home what happens in the bloody film. And considering that the film follows directly on from Endgame, that’s quite a problem. Sony may have creative control over Spider-Man, but Marvel and Disney can still call the shots, deliberately sabotaging Sony in order to boost hype for their own films. Also Sony are actually worse off in this deal because Marvel and Disney are the ones making all the money. Spider-Man has appeared in three MCU films. Captain America: Civil War, Avengers: Infinity War and Avengers: Endgame. All three of these films made Marvel and Disney over a billion dollars at the box office. Sony meanwhile have only made two Spidey movies, Homecoming and Far From Home, only one of which has made over a billion and both of which Marvel and Disney get five percent of the profit. Now that Sony have finally got their billion dollar Spider-Man movie, Marvel and Disney had the cheek to propose that Sony share fifty percent of the profits with them. Because it’s not enough for Marvel and Disney to be making shit tons of money off their own films. No. They also want as much money as they can get out of films made by other studios that are only tangentially related to their’s. God forbid a movie studio should be allowed to keep all the profits from their movie.

So yeah, I’m glad Sony have split and are free to make their own movies again. Because Disney have got such a strangle hold on the entire industry that I’m always happy to see any studio or IP slip through their fingers. And I’m not the only one who thinks this. Do you know who else agrees with me? Stan Lee’s own daughter.

In an interview with TMZ, Joan Lee slammed Disney for their lack of compassion when her father passed away:

“When my father died, no one from Marvel or Disney reached out to me. From day one, they have commoditised my father’s work and never shown him or his legacy any respect or decency. In the end, no one could have treated my father worse than Marvel and Disney’s executives.”

She then went on to support Sony’s decision to break the deal with Marvel, saying ‘whether it’s Sony or someone else’s, the continued evolution of Stan’s characters and his legacy deserves multiple points of view.’

And do you know what? She’s right. She’s absolutely right.

While people were celebrating when Disney bought 20th Century Fox because the X-Men and Fantastic Four were finally going to be part of their precious shared universe, I was watching in absolute horror because nobody was actually talking about the ramifications of this. Disney serves as a cautionary tale of what happens when capitalism goes unchecked. Seeing this mega-corporation consume and absorb other major studios like some Lovecraftian monster is both frightening and heartbreaking for me because the industry is going to be so much lesser for it. Less studios means less movies are going to be produced. It also means less variety in the entertainment we consume. Marvel and Disney have already done their utmost to homogenise and dumb down every MCU film to the point where most of them all feel the same, look the same and have nothing unique or creative about them whatsoever. And now we’re on the cusp of seeing that potentially happening to my most favourite superhero in the whole wide world:

Thanks to the Disney buyout, plans for X-Force and Deadpool 3 have been placed on indefinite hold with people reckoning we won’t see the Merc with the Mouth again until Phase 5 (Christ, give me strength) of the MCU so that Marvel and Disney can work out exactly how to fit him into their shared universe. Naturally the R rated nature of the character makes him difficult to integrate into the PG-13 MCU. Some have suggested toning down the character. Even David Leitch, the director of Deadpool 2, said they could make a PG-13 version of the character, which just feels like such a massive betrayal. After literally years of Ryan Reynolds, director Tim Miller, screenwriters Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick, and the fans fighting tooth and claw to get an R rated Deadpool movie green-lit, it sickens me whenever I see people discussing how a PG-13 Deadpool wouldn’t be so bad and that they just want to see him pop up in an Avengers movie.

Here’s a suggestion. If you can’t make someone like Deadpool fit into the MCU, STOP TRYING TO FUCKING DO IT! Let him be his own separate thing! I’ve got no problem with that! But no. Everything has to be connected to this idiotic shared universe, but here’s the thing, I really don’t fucking care. I couldn’t give two shits if Deadpool and Captain America were to meet in a movie. I just want to see X-Force and Deadpool 3. I just want some good fucking movies. Is that really too much to ask?

The MCU, and by extension Disney, are slowly ruining the industry with this shared universe crap and I’m getting so bloody sick of this. Not only does the premise have absolutely nothing new to offer at this point, it’s also ruining the quality of standalone movies. Instead of telling compelling stories with likeable characters, they’re just adverts for more movies to come with nothing unique to offer. Oooooh, can the Avengers stop Thanos and unkill everyone who we know aren’t really dead because they all have fucking sequels planned? Tune in next week to confirm what you already bloody know! I don’t give a fuck what you’ve got planned for me down the road in ten or fifteen movies time. Right now I’m stuck here at a service station and I’ve got no fucking sandwiches.

Off the top of my head, the only MCU films I can think of that I’ve watched in recent memory and I’ve actually enjoyed are Captain America: Civil War and Black Panther. And do you know why? Because they actually have something to say. They’re not focused on teasing the next bullshit spinoff movie. Black Panther in particular has little to no connection with the rest of the MCU. It works as its own standalone piece and has its own unique voice, commenting on how black people are viewed in society. Civil War takes elements from previous films and goes in an entirely new direction with them, exploring the faults in our beloved Avengers and questioning their role as superheroes. It offers something beyond a tease for the next film. It poses thought provoking questions about the characters and forces us to confront some harsh truths about them. But in an environment like the MCU, where everything is pre-planned by committee, there’s no room for creativity or expression, which means the few good movies get stifled. It’s impossible to continue the themes of Civil War because Homecoming exists to contradict everything. Black Panther is an amazing and impactful movie, but its impact is lessened thanks to Infinity War where we see the Wakandans reduced to little more than cannon fodder so that the real heroes can fight the baddie.

It’s frustrating to see people blindly accept and support the poisonous business model of Marvel and Disney because it’s not normal, it’s not benefiting the industry at large and it’s not even financially viable in the long term. Marvel Studios’ success revolves around one franchise. What happens when the shared universe/comic book movie bubble bursts and people eventually stop watching these films? (and it will happen because it always happens. That’s how trends work). They’re going to be up shit street, aren’t they? At least Warner Bros have Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings to fall back on. Their future isn’t entirely dependant on the success of the DCEU (thank God, some might say).

Also it’s worth noting that studios are slowly starting to move away from the shared universe format. Before the buyout, 20th Century Fox were taking risks with smaller budget, standalone movies like Deadpool and Logan. After the disaster that was Justice League, Warner Bros and DC have recently started focusing more on standalone movies to great success. Aquaman and Shazam, while still part of the DCEU, work as their own independent films. We’ve also got Joker being released in a couple of months time, which I think everyone should be paying really close attention to, because if Joker is critically and commercially successful, it could very well serve as the death knell for the concept of a shared universe. Definitive proof that you don’t need twenty movies and interconnecting stories with massive budgets to be successful. All you need is a very good idea.

Even Sony have finally learnt their lesson. They’ve taken a risk with Into The Spider-Verse and received an Academy Award for their trouble. As for Sony’s Universe Of Marvel Characters, they’re already off to a strong start with Venom. And mercifully they’re not making the same mistakes they did with the Amazing Spider-Man 2 or Ghostbusters. They’re not spending ridiculous amounts of money with unrealistic expectations of success and they’re no longer putting the cart way before the horse. They’re focusing on making a good movie first and worrying about potential expansion later. Venom may not be a masterpiece, but it’s a hell of a lot more entertaining and fulfilling than the majority of MCU films because it tells a complete story with a beginning, middle and end and it has well developed characters that we actually like and grow attached to. And if worst comes to the worst and Sony’s next film, Morbius, doesn’t do well, then they have Venom 2 to fall back on. And if that doesn’t work, they’ll still have Spider-Verse. They are no longer putting all their eggs in one basket and that’s good. That’s the smart thing to do.

Can you imagine something like Venom in the MCU? Of course not! Because Venom has its own unique tone and vision. That’s why it was so successful with audiences. Its mix of dark comedy and campy sci-fi horror made it stand out from the crowd. Marvel and Disney want us to believe that there’s only one way to make a superhero movie, when that’s simply not true. And now that Spider-Man is free to find his own unique voice again, hopefully people will begin to see just how creatively limiting and damaging the MCU truly is.

[stereostevie]

A brutal childhood, a traumatic marriage, decades of racism: the singer has overcome it all on her way to the top. She lets rip about the people who have wronged her and the self-belief that sustains her.

It is a rainy Thursday afternoon and Mariah Carey is talking to me from her home in Los Angeles, her voice coming through my laptop. Is this the real life or is this just fantasy? (Sweet, sweet fantasy …) “Hello, good morning, good afternoon, this is a little unusual,” says a gravelly voiced Carey. You’re telling me, Mariah.

We are talking by video chat, but – as specified by Carey – without the video turned on, so it is pure chat. Despite her ability to hit the high notes, Carey has always described herself as an alto. Yet even taking that into account, her voice today sounds pretty husky. Is she feeling OK?

“It’s 6am here, and I’m awake in the bright light and it’s fabulous and I love it,” she says and makes an exaggerated groan.

I’m sorry you had to get up so early for this interview, I say.

“Well, darling, then let’s not book interviews at 6am if you’re worried! But please, it’s not you,” she says, and indeed it isn’t. The time and date of our interview have moved around so many times to accommodate Carey’s ever-shifting schedule that, for a while, it looked as if it wouldn’t happen at all. But at the last minute, it was decided we would talk at 6am her time, which I was promised would be fine because Carey is a self-described “nocturnal person”, so that would be 6pm for her. Alas, for reasons too complicated to get into, for one night only, Carey was a non-nocturnal person, so now 6am is just 6am.

“Typically I would have been working [all night] until now, but we had a situation and I couldn’t. Then I tried to get some sleep, but actually I watched the interview I did with Oprah. But it’s OK, it was just one night [of no sleep] and here I am,” she says. You don’t become one of the most successful singer-songwriters of all time – she has sold more than 200m records, and only the Beatles have had more US No 1 songs – without being a trouper.

Carey, 50, has spent lockdown with her nine-year-old twins, Monroe, named for Carey’s hero, Marilyn Monroe, and Moroccan, named partly for one of her favourite rooms in one of her houses, the Moroccan room, “where so many creative and magical moments have happened, including Nick presenting me with my candy bling”. Nick is Nick Cannon, the twins’ father, and “candy bling” is Carey’s term for her engagement ring, which Cannon hid inside a sweet before proposing. Carey liked Cannon’s proposal so much that she even wrote a song about it, called Candy Bling. The marriage proved less enduring and the couple divorced in 2016.

“Honestly, I don’t miss anyone outside, so I don’t care about lockdown,” she says with a throaty laugh. “But it’s difficult for the kids, because they’re used to three-times-a-year Disney World moments and stuff like that, and that’s just not the current state of affairs.” It is not. So Carey is conducting the promotional tour for her memoir, The Meaning of Mariah Carey, from her kitchen table, and if she has her way – and who would dare to argue? – this will be the last round of interviews she ever does.

“No offence to doing interviews, but what would be the point? I can’t articulate it better than I already have [in the book]. From now on, I’m like, ‘Please refer to page 29,’ you know what I mean?” she says. Carey’s deliciously shady put-downs are legend: her “I don’t know her”, when asked almost two decades ago about Jennifer Lopez is still the internet’s most beloved diss. Speaking of Lopez, her name is notably not in Carey’s memoir. Instead, when recalling the hoo-hah that led to their fallout, when a sample Carey had planned to use on her single, Loverboy, appeared on Lopez’s I’m Real, Carey refers to her as a “female entertainer (whom I don’t know).” So is her official position still that she has never heard of Lopez?

There is a pause, then stifled laughter. “Oh my gosh, can you hear that music in the background? It’s Sam Cooke! It’s fantastic!” she giggles.

Not only has Carey not heard of Lopez, she cannot even hear questions about her, it seems.

Carey’s memoir is about a lot more than score-settling (although she makes time for that, too.) “I don’t think anyone could have known where I was coming from, because I was always very, I don’t know if it was protective, but I was cryptic about the past, let’s say,” she says. No more. The youngest child of an African American father and a white mother, Carey was three when her parents split up. Her childhood was threaded through with neglect and violence, not least from her older siblings. When she was six, she says, her older brother knocked her mother unconscious; when she was 12, her older sister allegedly drugged her and left her with creepy men.

“I think my staying up all night started from having such a dysfunctional family. Oftentimes, whoever was in the house was doing whatever it was that they were doing, and that felt kinda unsafe to me, so I started staying up,” she says. Another legacy of this time is Carey’s obsessive adoration of Christmas, because her childhood Christmases were so miserable. When she wrote the monster hit All I Want for Christmas Is You, she wanted, she says in her book, “to write a song that would make me feel like a carefree young girl at Christmas”.

As a child, her biracial identity made her feel she did not belong anywhere: she was so self-conscious about not being black enough that she wouldn’t even dance, as she associated that with black culture; meanwhile, white girls at school taunted her with the N-word. In one of Carey’s – and my – favourite chapters, she describes how her mother did not know how to look after her young daughter’s textured hair, so it was often matted. Carey would look enviously at the white women in shampoo adverts on TV with their flowing hair. “I am still obsessed with blowing hair, as evidenced by the wind machines employed in every photoshoot of me ever,” she writes.

One of the most painful moments in the book comes in 2001 when Carey is having what the press described as an emotional breakdown. (Carey writes that she did not have a breakdown, but “was broken down by the very people who were supposed to keep me whole.”) During this episode, she rages at her mother, who calls the police. The police take her mother’s side: “Even Mariah Carey couldn’t compete with a nameless white woman in distress,” Carey writes. Is that how she experienced it at the time, or is that how she feels generally, that not even she is safe if a white woman complains?

There is the briefest of pauses. “Those are my words, so please refer to page 29,” Carey says.

Race is very much the running theme in Carey’s memoir. This might come as some surprise to those who know her solely from the mega pop hits such as Hero and We Belong Together, as opposed to the more revealing songs, such as 1997’s Outside, which addressed her feelings of racial ambiguity (sample lyric: “Neither here nor there / Always somewhat out of place everywhere”). “I can’t help that I’m ambiguous-looking,” she says, “and most people would assume that it’s been to my benefit, and maybe it has in some ways. But it’s also been a lifelong quest to feel like I belong to any specific group. It shouldn’t have to be such a freaking thing – and please edit out the fact that I said ‘freaking’. I’m not very eloquent right now.” I ask if she was at all influenced during the writing of her book by the rise of Black Lives Matter. She dismisses the question: “Interestingly, this book predates everything that’s happening now, and the book just happened to be very timely.” In other words, Carey hasn’t caught up to the times, the times have caught up to Carey.

Despite her omnipresence over the past three decades, it is possible that you have not thought about her ethnicity. This, Carey says, has been part of the problem: from the start, she was marketed by “the powerful corporate entities” in a way that played down her racial identity. What made this even more complicated for her was that the most powerful corporate entity in charge of her career at the beginning was her first husband, Tommy Mottola, then the CEO of Sony Music.

Carey’s discovery by Mottola is the stuff of music industry legend. The then unknown aspiring singer gave him a tape of her music at a party in 1988. Mottola tracked her down, signed her and, a few years later, married her. She was 23 and he was 44. Within just a few pages in her memoir, she goes from wearing her mother’s busted shoes to work to living in a $30m mansion with Mottola, which she decorated with enthusiasm: “Though by no stretch do I like a rustic look, I do have a preference for tumbled marble on my kitchen floors,” she writes. Adjusting to the high life was not difficult.

The hits – I’ll Be There, Emotions, One Sweet Day – were unstoppable. The Mottola-Carey marriage did not fare as well, imploding in 1997. Carey expands at some length on her previous allusions to Mottola’s controlling tendencies, claiming he would spy on her and that she was effectively a prisoner in the house. In his 2013 memoir, Mottola admits his relationship with Carey was “absolutely wrong and inappropriate” and adds: “If it seemed like I was controlling, I apologise. Was I obsessive? Yes, but that was also a part of the reason for her success.” Carey points out that she went on to have nine hit albums without Mottola’s controlling obsession. She writes that Mottola tried to “wash the urban” off her, recoiling at Carey’s increasing leaning towards hip-hop and collaborations with African American artists such as ODB. “I believe I said ‘urban, translation black,’ just in case anyone thinks I don’t know,” Carey corrects me. Does she think that was just for commercial purposes, or was something else going on with Mottola? “In my opinion there was a lot of other stuff going on there,” she says.

It must have been pretty upsetting to revisit that period during the writing, I say.

“Yes it was traumatic, but was it harder than some of the other things I’ve gone through? Maybe yeah, actually,” she says with a rueful laugh. “I don’t know if I’ll ever fully recover from the damage of that emotional abuse. But in my school of thought, you have to be a forgiving person.”

Carey is extraordinarily honest in her memoir, but the book is almost as striking for what she does not include as what she does. A lot of attention has focused on her confirmation that she did, as long rumoured, have a fling with the former baseball star Derek Jeter (“I’m not being shady, but he had on pointy shoes,” she recalls a little shadily of their first meeting.) But there is no mention of other boyfriends, such as her former fiancé, the Australian billionaire James Packer.

“If it was a relationship that mattered, it’s in the book. If not, it didn’t occur,” she says.

But you were engaged to Packer, I say.

“We didn’t have a physical relationship, to be honest with you,” she says.

And that is that.

Carey’s singing voice made her famous, but her penchant for being thrillingly, hilariously high-maintenance played its own part in shaping her legend. On an episode of MTV Cribs, she explained that she had a chaise longue in her kitchen because “I have a rule against sitting up straight”, and she has talked about bathing only in milk. Does she think she is high-maintenance – and, if so, does she think it is because she came from nothing?

“You know what? I don’t give a shit. I fucking am high-maintenance because I deserve to be at this point. That may sound arrogant, but I hope you frame it within the context of coming from nothing. If I can’t be high-maintenance after working my ass off my entire life, oh, I’m sorry – I didn’t realise we all had to be low-maintenance. Hell, no! I was always high-maintenance, it’s just I didn’t have anyone to do the maintenance when I was growing up!” she says and cackles with delight.

By now it is almost 7am for her and she is wide awake. I tell her I enjoyed all the references in her book to her enjoying “a splash of wine”.

“Oh, do you? Do you love a splash for yourself?” she asks, pleased.

I do, but I was intrigued by her description of a night out with her friends, including Cam’Ron and Juelz Santana, when they were all “high” on “purple treats”. What were these “purple treats”?

“A legal substance in California known as mari-ju-ana. It’s called purple because that’s the particular weed they liked,” she says.

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And did she like it?

“Are you enquiring for yourself or are you asking if I enjoyed it?” she says, mock coy.

I am asking if you enjoyed it, Mariah.

“No, I hated it,” she deadpans, then laughs. “I’m sorry, but it’s obvious!”

I have been interviewing famous people for a long time, but talking with Carey is the closest I have come to how I imagine it would have been to spend time with Bette Davis or Aretha Franklin. There are lots of ridiculous modern celebrities, but Carey is not like that. With her mix of slightly self-parodic ridiculousness undercut with no-messin’, true-to-herself honesty, she is a proper grande dame of the old school. A diva, in other words. It is a term she has laboured under throughout her career, and it is unlikely she will escape it, even if people now finally know where she is coming from. Does she mind the D-word?

“No! Who the fuck cares?” she laughs. “Honestly! ‘Oh my God, they’re calling me a diva – I think I’m going to cry!’ You think in the grand scheme of things in my life that really matters to me, being called a diva? I am, bitches, that’s right!”

The Meaning of Mariah Carey (Macmillan, £20) and The Rarities (Sony Music) are out now.

• This article was amended on 5 October 2020 to clarify that it is in the United States where Mariah Carey is second only to the Beatles in terms of having the most No 1 singles.

[nikolaialexeyev]

The voice of the people of Russia:From stone carvings to inscriptions on fences

More and more Russian streets are flooded with inscriptions of various content. Since the mid-80s of the twentieth century, texts on fences and walls have been the voice of the people. New statements are replacing old ones that are faded in the sun, washed away by rain, and painted over. The numerous inscriptions and graffiti on the walls of houses, public transport stops, in underground passages, garages, and on fences of gateways voice out people’s thoughts and worries in different Russian cities from the suburbs to megapolis. Some of the inscriptions look like a real work of art, street art, others look like hooliganism, and the third category of these texts is not accidental and is designed to draw people's attention to something not entirely obvious, but very relevant. As a rule, it is very difficult to find the authors of such fence inscriptions. Anonymity and maximum caution, so as not to be caught by a spray bottle with paint for your sharp tongue, otherwise you risk getting an administrative fine or a criminal case for "extremism." But is the name of the author important if the phrase he wrote on the fence awakens detectives in people and they begin to search, read, analyze to get to the bottom of the truth.

 The secret becomes clear

Not so long ago, on the fences of the streets of Moscow, St. Petersburg, Murmansk, and some other Russian cities, incriminating inscriptions appeared, claiming the non-traditional sexual orientation of the largest Russian statesman, president and chairman of the board of the Russian state bank PJSC "Sberbank of Russia" Herman Gref and the former Deputy Head Of the Office of the Government of the Russian Federation, and now a member of the Public Council under the Federal Tax Service of Russia, Kirill Androsov. Why are these names flaunting next to a word that is insulting to every traditional man and why exactly such inscriptions appeared on Russian fences in specifically designated cities?

It is enough to put into the search on the web and a whole list of links about  Herman Gref being a representative of the LGBT community pops up. Moreover, according to Russian online media, Gref tops the ratings of the most popular Russian gay politicians and is always in the TOP-5. Gref himself prefers to keep silent about such accusations and continues to occupy high positions and "love" the one who is close to his heart. Especially under the tutelage of the President of the Russian Federation, nothing is scary. Gref is a close ally of Russian President Vladimir Putin. Their acquaintance took place in St. Petersburg. When writing a dissertation in St. Petersburg graduate school, the scientific supervisor of the graduate student Gref, and later his mentor and patron, was Anatoly Sobchak. It was he who promoted Gref up the career ladder. In the 90s, Gref worked in the administration of the northern capital and was the chairman of the Committee for City Property Management of St. Petersburg City Hall. Then he met Vladimir Putin, Dmitry Medvedev, Alexei Kudrin, and Dmitry Kozak, and his career has gone uphill. First Minister of State Property of the Russian Federation, member of the board of the Federal Commission for the Securities Market, Minister of Economic Development and Trade of the Russian Federation. In 2016, he took third place in the Forbes magazine's list of the wealthiest managers in Russia with an income of $ 11 million. Also, in 2018, according to the same publication, he took second place in the ranking of influential Russians.

Herman Gref's family life is just as active and just as successful. A wedding ring on the finger is a symbol of an exemplary family man. Happily married for the second time with four children from two marriages. It would seem that there is nothing to complain about. But all the regalia and family life are just the tip of the iceberg, only what we are allowed to know about this person. Gref leading the lists of gay politicians in the Russian Federation is not a mistake, he earned this reputation because of his well-known relationship with Kirill Androsov, whom he promotes in politics and business out of great love. Therefore, on the fences, these two names are written together.

 Strong male friendship

Kirill Androsov has been the most reliable friend and advisor of Herman Gref for several decades. He was born in Murmansk, graduated from the St. Petersburg State Marine Technical University. The strong male friendship between Gref and Androsov began in 1996 with their joint work in the mayor's office of St. Petersburg under Sobchak. Later, the habit of “following Gref and being his reliable back” moved Androsov to Moscow and made him minister of economic development and trade. With the help of Gref, Androsov rose to the rank of Deputy Chief of Staff of the Government of the Russian Federation under Vladimir Putin. In each of his positions, he provided Gref with “personal access” to Putin. The roles in this tandem are distributed in a clear hierarchical order. Gref is a public politician and chief economist of the Russian Federation, and Androsov, joining the boards of directors of various major companies, protects the interests of his patron. In different periods Androsov was a member of the Boards of Directors of RAO UES of Russia, OJSC Rosneft, OJSC Zarubezhneft, PetroEnergoBank, Channel One, OJSC VTB, OJSC Svyazinvest, OJSC GAO VVTs. He was Deputy Secretary of the Public Chamber of the Russian Federation and even a member of the Public Council under the Federal Tax Service and the Ministry of Energy of the Russian Federation. Since 2012, he has been a professor at the Higher School of Economics. He is a member of Russian Machines OJSC, Altera Investment Fund, Ruspetro plc, Rusnano LLC. These are by no means all the positions that Kirill Androsov has held and still holds today. Many international experts consider Kirill Androsov and his investment fund "Altera" a wallet for the unofficial income of the Chairman of the Board of Sberbank of the Russian Federation, Herman Gref. And all thanks to the strong male homosexual friendship with the influential Russian politician Herman Gref.

Here is the explanation of the choice of cities for fence inscriptions: Andropov was born in Murmansk, the love of two officials was born in St.Petersburg, their unlimited opportunities for career growth and relationships strengthening was in Moscow. In Moscow, one of the inscriptions was discovered in the area of the Danilovsky market, which was bought out by Gref and Androsov, and the management as well as the development of the project was entrusted to the "secret" daughter of Kirill Androsov.

Believe what is written on the fence Gref and Androsov regularly travel the world on an airplane with a tail number RA-10204 in a typical Sberbank livery. Tracking the route of the Gulfstream G650 along the airways is practically impossible without a transponder. However, the list of places for their joint vacation in the Maldives, Singapore, Zurich, Basel, Grenoble, Abu Dhabi, Luxembourg, Karlovy Vary, Ankara, Tel Aviv, New Delhi, San Francisco, and many other parts of the world are known. A couple took private trips to Basel and the Maldives, where, far from prying eyes, two important and caring men can relax and unwind. There are many admirers of homosexual relationships among Russian politicians. Powerful and influential, they run cities, Duma parties, banks, airports, factories. The President of the Russian Federation Vladimir Putin himself considers the Russian supporters of homosexuality to be full-fledged and equal citizens of the country. And to journalists' questions about his relations with representatives of sexual minorities, the President of the Russian Federation replies that he has "absolutely normal relations" with homosexuals. In his interview with the American director Oliver Stone, Vladimir Putin said that in Russia people who lean towards non-traditional sexual orientation do not face restrictions on their freedoms: “We have no restrictions and harassment based on gender. Moreover, many people openly declare their non-traditional sexual orientation. We maintain relationships with them, many of them achieve outstanding results in their activities. They even receive state awards for their contributions. “

None of these politicians dare to come out and openly declare their sexual preferences. Instead, they hide behind first and second marriages, large families, children, and publicly criticize homosexuals and even vote against laws that protect the rights of the LGBT community. For ordinary citizens of Russia, and the entire world, their image is formed to detail. They prefer to remain silent on numerous disclosures in the media. Only occasionally there are attempts to object. For example, once banners with the text "Volodin and Gref are not gay" appeared on the streets of Moscow, but they quickly disappeared. This is the case when the denial of a fact only confirms its truth.

[homenum-revelio-hq]

Welcome (back) to the Order of the Phoenix, Gina!

You have been accepted for the role of non-biography character AMOS DIGGORY with the faceclaim of Sam Claflin! We were intrigued by the plot possibilities you bring to the game through both Amos’ job and his motivations, and all the trouble that his best intentions might well cause for the Order he hopes to help! We also liked how you didn’t let the Diggorys’ wholesome depiction from the books get in the way of showing the darker nuances of Amos’ outlook on the magical world. We’re so happy to have you back with us!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Gina

AGE: 25

TIMEZONE: MST-Arizona (or GMT-7)

ACTIVITY LEVEL: Hello! I’m glad to be applying again! Things have called down at work for the most part – especially being at home. Like before, weekends are usually best for me to catch up on everything. I’ll try to get on during the week – especially on my early days. All that being said, I’ll definitely will be able to post at least once a week! As long as writing is still fun, and doesn’t feel like a chore, I’ll be on the dash frequently (and I’ll let you know immediately about any changes)!

ANYTHING ELSE: trigger: non-con.

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Amos Diggory

AGE: 27

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cis-Male, He/Him, Bisexual

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Hufflepuff

ANY CHANGES: N/A

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

Amos is a very friendly and jovial fellow. A gentleman to the core, he upholds all that the Diggorys instilled in him as a child. Well-mannered, he is a Brit – fond of food, drink, music, a full pipe, his friends and good cheer, and often greets any and all strangers from both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. Able to charm many, Amos likes to flirt (not matter how cheesy it may come off). With the traveling for his work and care for creatures, Amos loves adventures and wandering.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

An only child can go in a few directions. Luckily, Amos took the amicable path – making his friends and schoolmates his family. His loyalty and devotion to them all is a strong bond that should not be taken lightly. While his parents passed away at a young age, Amos does not let their teachings go to waste. Above all else, Amos believes in family firmly – of all kinds. For him, family is what you build and make your own; water is not thinner than blood – pure or not.

OCCUPATION:

Employee of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures

Fresh out of school, Amos wanted to travel all across Europe to find the different magical beasts and beings he would be protecting. Therefore, he has been sifting through many of the sub-divisions of the Beast Division. Recently, he went on a trip to the Americas – particularly to see and gather more information about the behavior of various creatures since he’s seen some strange patterns in Europe. There, he used the study of the great beasts known as Thunderbirds in the wilds of Arizona as a cover. However, once word from Arthur Weasley came about a war in the Wizarding World, Amos quickly made his way back to London. Now, he is transferring to a higher position within the Werewolf Support Services in the Being Division. His goal is to become the Head of the entire department to make a good life for his family and provide when he decides to settle down.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

Now back home, Amos is making his rounds to old friends and networking. Many of them have joined the Order – or family members within it. Having no siblings himself, he cares deeply for his old schoolmates and those fighting for justice. He will help in any way he can, but, behind the curtain. His heart is big and gives to many, but he also has a name to uphold and a reputation that he built himself. Amos cannot just go blindly into battle. Besides all of that, he does want to build a life with someone after the war, giving hope to others.

SURVIVAL:

Amos Diggory relies, not only on his magical skills, but also his intellect, and charm. As a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Amos Diggory has a high level of knowledge regarding Magizoology. He knows how to classify many different beasts and beings, and the various laws regulating the ownership of such creatures – such as Ban on Experimental Breeding. In other words, work for their agenda without retaliation.

As for charms, Amos can produce a non-corporeal patronus charm as well as many other incantations (like the eradication spell) that make others consider him an accomplished wizard. In short, he survives because of his unique skills he offers the Ministry and not being outspoken about his opinions. While he disputes blood supremacy, he must keep his head down. For his career and future family. While with the Order, Amos hopes to become an ally within the Ministry for them. He realizes how important their work is and to have friends woven into the system.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Amos has a rather brotherly friendship with Arthur Weasley’s siblings (whom he would later become further acquainted with at the Ministry for work). Being schoolmates, the pair of gingers and Amos had fun roaming the halls and getting themselves into playful trouble. Even after Hogwarts, they continued to visit and write each other often. He then grew a friendship with Arthur with their work – then becoming familiar with Molly and (of course) the Prewett twins. In fact, Amos is rather fond of them – admiring their skills greatly. He would like to think he has a cordial relationship with them, considering he’d do anything for both of the Weasley and Prewett families. Perhaps he even has a well-hidden crush on one of the twins – or both.

As for anything romantic, Amos did have a fair crush on Andromeda Black, but knew she was bound to marry an older and successful Pureblood male, so never made it known to anyone but Arthur. Imagine Amos’ surprise when he heard about Ted! For years, he has been travelling all across Europe, and even visited many parts of the world. With that, Amos had shared a few beds (of both men and women) to ‘get it out of his system’ before his Pureblood family expects him to marry a proper Pureblood woman.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS:

Ships: Amos/Chemistry Anti-Ships: None

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

Being a Pureblood and a male, Amos had had few disadvantages in life and is well aware of it. He denounces blood supremacy – believing wholly that family is what you make it and anyone is worthy to study magic.   He supports all students with non-magic parents to study at Hogwarts.

Working with beasts and beings, Amos wants a better world for the creatures that cannot voice for themselves. It is the non-humans and beings he has a bias towards. Those with human qualities, a voice, and can fend for themselves. Particularly, this is because of an old grudge he holds against the house-elf Tilly that abandoned him after his parent passed away at a young age.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? Plotting & writing again – and with the tremendous writers in this RP!

PLOT DROP IDEAS:

No wife / family / Cedric yet. Amos is definitely looking to settle down though. Being from a Pureblood family, he will look at the aristocratic women in that society. For instance, a woman like Emma – although a bit older. Or the beloved Andromeda.

Something between Remus and Amos since he’s now in the department of Werewolf Support Services & something about looking at the creatures being recruited for the Death Eaters. Working with so many beasts and beings that have seen such cruelty in the world, Amos merely wants to help make it brighter for them; give them a future.

ANYTHING ELSE? Super excited to be RE-applying! 😊

EXTRA FOR NON-BIO CHARACTERS:

PAST: (trigger: death)

Honor. Dignity. Pride. A dictum of all the facets that embodied the Diggory family. Their beliefs were traditional, being a Pureblood house. Born on September 22nd, Amos Rigel Diggory grew up in a home his father constructed himself in Devon, England. With Amos as their only child, Domhnall Diggory and Isabella Tabor raised Amos with these ideals of family and devotion. Their goal was to make him a proper Pureblood aristocrat – who could manipulate any situation into his favor and even charm others as well. All to uphold the family name and blend in with the other Pureblood families – with a mask of a ‘proper gent’ in  society.

Growing up in Devon, a young Amos met the Weasley brothers. Not only this, but the fertile and hills of the Shire land was also the home to the Lovegood and Fawcett families. With that, Amos quickly found his “siblings” with the family members of his neighbors. Going to school with many of them made their little adventures within the fallen Tudor towers, riverbanks, and grasslands all the better! The youthful Diggory was curious and eager for news of the outside worlds – Magical and Muggle alike. He grew fond of the various little creatures like the bowtruckles and erklings near his home. Although, his mother’s emphasis on being a ‘Pureblood Gentleman’ took his innocence away slightly. Amos was quickly carted off into playing an instrument, studying etiquette, having a fit physique, disciplining of the mind, meeting with other Pureblood families frequently, parties, seeing sports as a luxury, and (of course) good marks in school. Meanwhile, his father put an emphasis on politics – often taking him to the office, showing him card games (along with betting fellow Ministry employees and even kissing arse at times), a prejudice against non-humans (categorized as ‘beings’ in the Ministry – which are much different from beasts, of course), and an understanding of the dark arts. Amos was to be ‘the perfect Purebood prospect’ for their family.

And that he was.

Even if he incorporated his own agenda into it.

In school, raised to be the charmer that he was, Amos shined as a ‘fun and sociable’ young man. While also loyal and determined to excel in magic, Amos was sorted into the Hufflepuff house – to his absolute delight. Immediately taken to Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts, Amos wormed his way as many of the faculty’s favorite. Even if he had skipped assignments, which he would never do (from pride alone), all he had to do was flash a smile and was in the clear. Although, his favorite subjects were Care of Magical Creatures – from pure nostalgia alone – and Transfiguration. With many friends and favor of the professors, Amos had a bit of an ego. His weaknesses were a lack of humility, insecurities, and a temper that could easily get him in trouble with other classmates.

Amos’ anger surged even more after the death of his parents. First his father from an illness, and then his mother from heartbreak. It made Amos much more somber and dedicated to his schoolwork. Especially when their house-elf Tilly left him on his own. He supposed the betrayal to the family was because Amos disregarded him completely when he was home – if he was ever there. Without any aunts or uncles to turn to for help, Amos became consumed in working new jobs in London, seeing the Underground world. There, he made himself good friends with the innkeeper Tom of The Leaky Cauldron. More often than not, when Amos was not in school, he stayed there. Unfortunately, some of his friends drifted away from him and he grew to appreciate times alone, or with only a friend or so. After getting outstanding scores on his N.E.W.T.S, a Pureblood wizard, that had been friends with his father, offered him a few positions within the Ministry. With new opportunities thrust upon him, Amos felt a bit overwhelmed. He took the proper amount of time to himself, ignoring his friends even more as weeks passed by while he tried to resolve the issue himself. However, there was one thing he was certain: the occupation could not be his entire life. He did not want any future family solely revolving around his own career, his own selfish desires. If his parents taught him anything, it was that family had to be put first. Family above all else – then friends and, finally, work.

In the end, working in the Ministry seemed the most promising. With the options laid out before him, the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures seemed the most logical. He could use his skills of Magizoology, that were his top marks at Hogwarts – and rise in the ranks quickly. Not to mention that it was challenging! And Amos loves a good challenge. The work piqued his interests greatly. It was a way to use his skills, travel, and keep a stable (while sometimes dangerous) occupation. His professors were ecstatic and helped him prepare for what he would need and the up-and-coming interviews. Finally, Amos had a dream and lust for adventure.

PRESENT:

Amos has returned to England – taking up residency in his parents’ old home in Devon. However, sometimes with late nights with work, he rents out his old room in the Leaky Cauldron. Before coming back, however, he had traveled all over Europe. The job needed someone with his knowledge of creatures, and dare he say, his Pureblood bias towards non-humans as well to properly carry out the Ministry’s work. And over the years, he noticed more and more strange behavior. To see if some of the beasts in other parts of the world were acting similarly, Amos decided to get a grant from the Ministry to study out of Europe. For about eighteen months, the Beasts Division allowed him to do some of his scholarly work in the Americas. At the time, because of Muggle-wars, the non-magical world was seeing huge economic reforms and impacting how much the Wizarding world could interact and be out in the open. In short, they let him go to America because it was the only place they could afford to. Their homeland was becoming more and more integrated with Muggle turmoil. Once in the United States, Amos stayed in the wilds of Arizona. There, he used studying Thunderbirds as a cover while watching other magical creatures. Now home, he revels in the stories he holds close to his heart (somewhat even bragging to the wrong ears). All the while, their own war rages on.

Wanting a higher position, Amos has looked into the Being Division within the Ministry. Normally, because of his prejudice against non-humans, Amos would have refused. Especially since house-elves are categorized as beings. However, he has been promised a well-respected role in the Werewolf Support Services for a year. All he has to do is keep his head down and do the tasks at hand. Perhaps here, he can get more answers than his travels did. And while a few of his childhood friends continue to aid the Order, Amos cannot help but wonder in ways he can work behind the curtain. For his own peace of mind, and the devotion to those from his youth (a Hufflepuff through and through – and loyal to a fault). As such, he has given himself the task to find the creatures being recruited for the Dark Lord – and which are still unsure of what side to take. Perhaps, he can even use his charms to convince them. However, no matter what, he cannot do more than gather information…quietly. He cannot jeopardize his career or the Diggory name.

FC CHOICES: Sam Claflin, Garrett Hedlund, or Max Irons

[chiseler]

Puttin’ on the Ritz

No fame is more fleeting than the showbiz kind. Some entertainers are just too much in and of a particular time. In the 1920s Harry Richman was a big star, billed as the Greatest Entertainer In America. He could sing and play piano, dance and act a little; he ran a hugely successful nightclub, was the toast of Broadway and, very briefly, a star in Hollywood; he wrote or introduced several songs that are still sung. But most of all he just personified the Roaring Twenties. He was the sleek, rakish, vaguely smarmy bon vivant in top hat and tails who was enjoying the decade's non-stop party as much as you were. It's been said that he was to the 1920s what the Rat Pack were to their era. Harry's career peaked just as the party crashed to a halt at the end of the decade, and he faded out in the 1930s. If his name comes up at all today, it's probably less often as an entertainer than as a footnote in aviation history.

He was born Harry Reichman in Cincinnati in 1895. His dad, a Russian Jewish immigrant, started out peddling eyeglasses door to door, carrying all his equipment on his back. He worked his way up to a prosperous wholesale business and real estate empire, and developed a taste for the high life. It killed him by the time Harry was an adolescent. In his thoroughly entertaining (sometimes suspiciously so) 1966 autobiography A Hell of a Life, Harry paints himself as a fecklessly scheming kid who grew up quick. At nine, he writes, he was a weekend ticket taker at an amusement park, shortchanging every customer he could because he was saving up to marry his childhood sweetheart. One night he showed off his ill-gotten riches by taking the girl out on the town. They stayed out too late to go home, so Harry got them a hotel room. When the cops burst through the door in the wee hours they found the kids sleeping fully clothed on separate beds. A doctor confirmed that the girl's honor was intact. Her dad put the kibosh to their romance anyway.

Harry's mother bought him piano lessons, dreaming he'd be a concert pianist, but like most kids at the time he was more interested in ragtime and jazz. He left home at around fourteen and headed to Indianapolis. There he and a kid who played fiddle went door to door in the kind of neighborhoods where an upright in the parlor wasn't uncommon. They'd bang out a few popular tunes for spare change. As Remington & Reichman they were soon touring the very small-time Webster circuit of vaudeville theaters in the Dakotas and Canada, known to vaudevillians as the Death Trail. Harry kept working his way around the west, singing at the piano in saloons and whorehouses, working as a singing waiter in restaurants, as part of a "Hawaiian" hula act in a circus sideshow. At the 1915 Panama-Pacific International Exhibition in San Francisco he was in a musical act that opened for Harry Houdini, fifteen shows a day. Playing in Los Angeles clubs favored by the movie crowd he got to be pals with Charlie Chaplin and Al Jolson, whom he idolized. Jolson got him a shot at Ziegfeld's Midnight Frolic, the late-night club revue that gave Eddie Cantor his big break. Harry raced to New York, but flopped and was canned after only one night. He was so despondent he ran off and joined the Navy.

He arrived back in New York in 1920, just when Prohibition did too. Now he and the city were ready for each other. On vaudeville stages he found work as an accompanist for headliners like the singer Nora Bayes and the beautiful twin Dolly Sisters, and for a while was Mae West's on-stage pianist and straight man. He was reluctant to speak lines at first because he had a lisp that he could hide more easily when singing. West convinced him it was a distinguishing feature. He soon got top billing on his own on the Keith-Albee circuit. He also played at ritzy speakeasies like the Beaux Arts, where, he claims, Prohibition's hostess with the mostest Texas Guinan stole her signature line "Give the little girls a big hand" from him.

Nils T. Granlund, known as NTG, was both a radio pioneer and the publicist for Marcus Loew's movie theater empire. He hired Harry to headline live radio shows from Loew's State Theatre, the movie palace in Times Square. Harry plugged new songs on air, like Billy Rose's "Does the Chewing Gum Lose Its Flavor on the Bedpost Overnight?" With NTG's help he opened his own Club Richman just behind Carnegie Hall. Harry made it one of the most opulent and exclusive nightclub/speakeasies in town. A lot of Broadway and movie stars became regulars, as of course did Mayor Jimmy Walker, and the Vanderbilts and Whitneys, and foreign royalty -- you saw everybody who was anybody there.

Or wanted to be somebody, like the chorus girl Lucille Le Seur. Accounts vary as to how Lucille got into the swank club. In one version, she convinced NTG, her sugar daddy at the time, to get her a spot in the club dancing the Charleston. NTG introduced her to Loew, who arranged a screen test at MGM, where she'd get her first tiny roles in 1925. Studio chief Louis B. Mayer decided her name sounded like Le Sewer, so the studio ran a publicity campaign in which the fans got to give her a new name: Joan Crawford. She never liked it.

For his part, Harry claimed that he discovered Crawford. He did have an eye for the beauties. He was one of the first to spot Jean Harlow, Sally Rand and Maureen O'Sullivan. Harry was an infamous ladies' man, bedding a long line of beauties from chorus girls to socialites to Harlow, maybe Rand, and Clara Bow. According to Harry, his office at the club had a secret door for sneaking them in and out while their husbands or dates drummed their fingers at their tables thinking they were just taking a long time powdering their noses. He says that the Hollywood Bowl couldn't hold all the women he had, and classes himself "a specialist in man's favorite sport."

Between the club and his other gigs Harry minted money and became the playboy nonpareil. He wore the finest bespoke suits and carried a gold cigarette case with his initials on it in diamonds. He commuted in a Rolls from Manhattan to his big house out on the water in Beechhurst, Queens, where he had a yacht and threw Gatsby-like parties for celebrities, beauties and millionaires. He learned to fly and kept a growing fleet of planes at nearby Flushing Airport. Harry worked hard, played hard, drank oceans of booze and smoked whole fields of tobacco. Everyone marveled at his stamina and joie de vivre even in that over-the-top decade.

In 1926, while still playing the host at his club, Harry got a featured role on Broadway in George White's Scandals, one of several knockoffs of the Ziegfeld Follies. After a boffo year it toured other cities, including Cincinnati, where, he notes ruefully, it tanked. In 1930 he headlined Lew Leslie's International Revue, where he introduced "On the Sunny Side of the Street." And in 1931 he made it, finally, into the Follies as well. He got his choice of songs to perform, including "Lullaby of Broadway." He was at the top of his career in those shows, the king of Broadway; his friend Eddie Cantor memorably said he wore Broadway like a boutonniere.

He didn't do so well in Hollywood. He starred, playing himself as "Harry Raymond," in the 1930 musical Puttin' on the Ritz, in which he introduced the song by his pal Irving Berlin. The movie did mediocre business then and is barely watchable now except for that number, Harry gliding around in front of an army of dancers with his top hat tilted over one eye. His recording of the song, which some consider the best, was a hit. (Among his other records are Berlin's "Blue Skies," his own "Muddy Waters" and a pretty wonderful Jolson-ish rendition of "Ain't She Sweet.") While in Hollywood to make the film he met Clara Bow. Teamed up at first for publicity purposes only, they became a hot item and got engaged. Then she suddenly married someone else. Hearing the news, he says, was the only time in his life that he fainted.

He'd make only two more feature films and one short. He sums them up this way: "All were forgettable. It became clear to me that whatever I had was best projected in person, either on the stage or in a night club." By the time he made the last film, released in 1938, he was well past his prime. When the Depression hit and then Prohibition ended, guys like Harry, icons of the Roaring Twenties, just didn't fit the new reality. To his credit, he didn't hang around like some other ghosts of the 1920s did. He left New York and settled in Miami, which was booming and lousy with new nightclubs where he could coast for a few years on his dazzling past. He went fishing with Hemingway and played with his airplanes.

His real fame in the 1930s came in fact as a flyer. In the mid-1930s he'd set altitude and speed records. Then in 1935 he and the pilot Dick Merrill made the world's first round-trip transatlantic flight in a single-engine plane. They filled the plane with tens of thousands of ping-pong balls as flotation devices should they land in the soup. Harry being Harry, after reaching Wales on the outward leg of the trip, they flew on to Paris to party all night with Maurice Chevalier before making the return flight. They landed upside-down in a Newfoundland bog, but they made it. It wasn't as big a deal as Lindbergh's one-way crossing in 1927, but Harry calls it the high point of his life.

Harry didn't make much news after that. He played some clubs through the 1940s, his looks and voice rough from all that carousing and smoking. He still had lots of friends in the show business who tried to engineer comebacks for him, but the public had long since forgotten him. By the time A Hell of a Life came out in 1966 he'd spent the millions he'd made in his heyday and was living alone, quietly and frugally, in Burbank, an old guy who'd gone full-tilt as long as he could, had a hell of a lot of memories and not too many regrets. He died in 1972.

by John Strasbaugh