#the lineup was bad and most of the songs were awful

[mangle-my-mind]

I’m going to a “Music of Paul McCartney” show at Carnegie Hall tonight. There’s gonna be a ton of amazing people performing. Denny Laine’s gonna be there! and Peter Asher! and Patti Smith! and a bunch of other cool people!

The only thing is, Carnegie Hall is actually a terrible music venue. The audio quality isn’t good, there were a lot of technical problems with switching out instruments last time I went, and they are really uppity about their no-phones policy, which is frankly ridiculous in my opinion. 

So if a certain Sir Paul is planning to drop in on this performance (which is very very unlikely), it would be simultaneously the most amazing thing ever and such a disappointment. If he’s there and I get yelled at for trying to take a picture/video of it, I will throw hands.

[fructidors]

HI so i'm thinking about burning a CD with live versions of mountain goats songs, however i am not well-versed in the world of the mountain goats so. what would you recommend? (the CD can be up to 80 minutes long :))

YEAHHHH so as you're probably aware the world of mountain goats live recordings is unimaginably expansive and i am by most standards an amateur at traversing it BUT i do have lots of advice :D

there really is no such thing as a bad mountain goats show. even the ones with awful crowds or where the band isn't doing so great are bound to have some very very bright spots. at the same time, the mountain goats have a 30+ year touring history, with lineups varying from john alone, to the full four-piece current permanent ensemble, to the five-piece current touring ensemble, to on one remarkable occasion john with a medieval a cappella quartet, to absolutely everywhere in between, so everyone is bound to have their own tastes.

as such, a really good way to find tmg shows is to just look through the mountain goats wiki! they have over 1500 shows listed, the general majority of which have archive.org recordings. they also have every live show any particular song was played at listed-- most of my favorite shows i've found through looking through all the various performances of my favorite songs. there are also a lot of great recs over on r/themountaingoats. but here are some of my personal favorites:

the bottom of the hill shows!! the bottom of the hill is a small venue in san francisco that the mountain goats have played at quite a few times over the years, and for some combination of reasons the shows there always turn out ridiculously special. any mountain goats fan will point a new tmg live listener to the bottom of the hill. the rather infamous recording of no children sung entirely by the crowd took place there in 2006. the recording of california song i sent you was from a show there in 2014-- which by the way contains the entirety of transmissions from horace (an early tape that was later released as part of the compilation ghana), which is why there might be a lot of songs you don't recognize, and also why they played so many fan favorites to close it out (as compensation)(denton AND you were cool. WHAT A NIGHT). everything from no children on in that recording is pure gold. the show there from the next night is roughly the same in content but the rendition of the best ever death metal band in denton they close with is one of my favorite live tracks of all time. and finally a show there from 2008 was videoed in full by paste magazine!! (here is the archive.org version for audio files) this is SUCH a good show oh my god. the two really standout numbers in my opinion are not actually by the mountain goats-- one is ace of base's defining europop number the sign, which has been. drastically reimagined by the mountain goats. the bottom of the hill performance is punctuated with stories about john's own personal history with the song (which, if that appeals, check out this version too), and is just generally iconic. and also intense. SPEAKING OF INTENSE the other is houseguest-- which is a song by franklin bruno (who john was/is in a band called the extra glens/glenns/lens with) that john has played live quite a bit. this particular performance is really just my favorite because you get to watch john stalk around and lean out over the crowd like a vulture or perhaps some kind of crow. for the audio alone honestly i would recommend the version from this 2008 show. (fun fact about me personally the first time my mom ever left baby me alone with my dad overnight was to go to this exact show!! i am still mad at her for not taking me)

the fall 2005 tour!! the really cool thing about this tour is that at the time, the mountain goats were still comprised of just john darnielle and peter hughes (bassist), so typically live shows were very stripped down and a far cry from the aforementioned five-person full band they tour as now. but on this tour, their opener, the prayers and tears of arthur digby sellers, joined them for a few songs each set, which meant they had much fuller band (DRUMS!! MORE GUITAR!!) while also still being very much sunset tree-era mountain goats and BOY is it special. highlights include: the version of tollund man from toronto which doesn't feature the larger band, but john does incorporate a mangled paraphrase of the final couplet of shakespeare's sonnet 73 (this thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong / to love that well which thou must leave ere long) into the song; the performance of palmcorder yajna from the same night where john replaces the "send somebody out for soda" line with "send somebody out for ATIVAN;" and of course, against pollution knitting factory halloween 2005 (audio). you probably noticed me posting the youtube video of this every day of october. it's my second favorite tmg live recording of all time (after bottom of the hill california song). john is in a priest costume which adds the most je ne sais quoi ever to the song (which is about going to church and shooting a guy. amongst other things). the video and audio are not clear at all but you must understand that is what makes this performance SO. it's SOOOO. in conclusion:

(do christians have high holidays. i'm so jewish i'm sorry)

the webster hall 2009 show!! this show's from the life of the world to come tour which is why there are so many songs named after bible verses (unsure how familiar you are with the life of the world to come but i feel like it has some you vibes). they were touring with violinist owen pallet at the time which means we get going to bristol & hebrews 11:14 with string accompaniment!!!! this show literally never fails but the absolute highlights for me are deuteronomy 2:10 (although deuteronomy 2:10 is one of my favorite songs in the entire mountain goats canon so it's rare to come across a version i dislike), enoch 18:14 (which is actually an unreleased outtake from lotwtc-- the version you see online the most is from the lotwtc film but this one is full-band and prefaced by a long john story about video games)(if the latter appeals, i'd check out thank you mario), quito (which is probably best appreciated as part of the larger we shall all be healed album but the full-band version here SHINES), and of course full band going to georgia!!! i understand solo going to georgia purists so so well and there really is nothing like shouting the words back to just john and his guitar but there is SOMETHING in full band going to georgia that i suspect is rather close to real actual apotheosis. if the former appeals more though i am emotionally attached to the version from last august because i was there (one of only 7 times he's played it since 2012!) and it was the best day of my life but objectively this 2007 version is probably better.

also!! i've done something very similar with a tape! it's probably the most care i've ever put into a tracklist and remains one of my favorite tapes i've ever made-- finding tracks for it is how i found most of what i just recommended :) here's the setlist:

ignore the blank spot i tried to put in abandoned flesh from the aforementioned august show i went to but it turned out really bad for some reason so i wanted to put in shower from the show two days before john got married but then i forgot. anyways YEAH THAT'S ABOUT IT! lmk if you want more specific reqs or about any mountain goats thoughts ever anytime :DDD

[ill-skillsgard]

I need Faust and Faith's reunion after he's done touring 👉👈 No pressure or anything. I just miss them a lot!

I always miss Fausty boy! I have some other prompts I wanted to incorporate into this one, but it was getting too long. I hope you enjoy!

+

Warning: 18+ mentions of public sex, mature language, anti-religious overtones, mentions of blood, violence, death, and drug use.

Summary: Faith goes to her first black metal show and asks Faust about the black circle.

- Not based on Lords of Chaos. I use Faust!Valter’s likeness only as inspiration.

Read more Faust x Faith here [x]

The duelling guitars screeched through twin stacks of speakers and filled the auditorium with malfeasance. Faith had never witnessed such a carnal reaction. As she watched from the side stage, the crowd below opened into a whirling pit of black-clad showgoers, pushing, jumping and banging against each other. The drums kicked into a blistering rhythm, and her attention turned toward the man she barely recognized with white and black makeup painting his face like the ghost of a demon.

Faust punished his drumkit with expert precision, his arms blurring in the chaos of their first song. His black hair swung as he banged his head without missing a beat. Horned and studded limbs spilled over the metal barricade, tongues lolled, and eyes lit with blissful fury. The singer's growls seemed to rise from the depths of hell, a monster shrieking at its thralls for more destruction.

Even with earplugs in, Faith felt the music blowing back in waves, shaking the column of her throat and turning her brain to mush. She dared slip one plug out to hear the true volume and quickly stuffed it back in when the intensity struck.

During the ambient interludes between songs, the crowd roared still. A few hundred people raised their hands, praising the men on stage. It reminded her of church, how they would let their eyes roll back, chanting the hymns and facing their palms skyward. This was no church she had ever set foot inside. The walls were painted black, the floor sticky from spilled beer, and its congregation made her gathering's displays of loyalty seem demure. The air reeked of salty skin and malt embedded in the paint from nights like this.

Faith saw people wearing shirts with Faust's band logo on the front, and a burst of pride warmed her belly. Though she was remarkably out of place, there was an odd sense of welcome. She could run headfirst into the crowd and get swallowed up and spit out like anyone else.

When they finished their set, Faust retired his drumsticks to a holder, chugged an entire bottle of beer and took a brief bow to the crowd before walking off stage. Faith bounced as he approached and scooped her off the floor, smearing her face with paint from around his mouth. When he set her down, his lips were partially visible through the now grey muck.

"How was it?" Faust asked.

"You guys are amazing. That's was so cool, babe!"

"Ah, you're just saying that."

"No, really! I can't believe how crazy they went for you!"

Faust sneered playfully, though their reception had been one for the books. "Probably 'cause half the crowd are friends of ours."

"Doesn't matter. You still kicked ass."

Faust's smile was unbreakable from a show well played and seeing his girlfriend waiting for him at the side of the stage. He led her to the green room as stagehands and managers nodded them through and let her dab the corpse paint off her face in the bathroom. Faust sopped up the sweat in his hair with a towel and changed his stage clothes before Faith returned. His bandmates soon joined them, and the chatter was unintelligible. People from other bands came in to talk and congratulate the young group on their first cross-country tour, and soon the back was filled with people hanging VIP badges from their pockets.

Faust pulled Faith from the bedlam before the room grew too hot. They made their way to the main floor and the rows of merchandise tables. Faith couldn't help but feel privileged to have access to the other side of the tables where Faust told her she could stash her coat and purse while a lineup of fans waited to purchase t-shirts and albums. Admirers pulled Faust away several times to take photos and shake hands. Faith watched in awe as people took turns posing with her boyfriend, who stayed looking stoic in his half-melted face paint. Her boyfriend. People from all walks of life wanted proof they'd met him, asking him to sign album covers and tour posters.

When Faust broke away from the clamour of excited metal fans, he took Faith's hand and pulled her through the crowd to a stairwell guarded by security. He flashed his tour badge, and the guard permitted them to the balcony where a few other musicians sat in a less crowded area.

"Come on, let's go outside. I need a fucking smoke," Faust said.

They went through a set of metal doors to an outdoor balcony where two men leaned against the railing, passing a joint and chatting. One spotted Faust, and a smile cracked over his face.

"Hey, Faust. Great show, man. We watched from the balcony. You guys were fucking killer," the man passed the joint to the drummer.

He hauled a significant bout of smoke into his lungs, then expelled it into the night air, handing it back with a nod.

The man refused. "Pass it to the lady."

"She's good," Faust said.

"I'll take a hit," Faith countered.

Faust glanced at her, brow raised high. "You sure?" He chuckled.

"Yes. I'll be fine."

Faust handed her the joint and turned to his fellow musicians. "Thanks. Glad you guys enjoyed the set."

As Faith inhaled, the other man turned to her and offered his hand to shake. "Hey, I'm Janne."

"Faith," she mouthed around a lungful of searing smoke.

"This is Yosh," Janne gestured at the man who'd initially offered Faust the joint. "Good to meet you."

"Is this your girlfriend, Fausty?"

"Yeah. She's my girl."

"Aw, that's cute. Didn't take you for the relationship type, to be honest. You like this scary son of a bitch?" Yosh asked.

Faith giggled as she looked up at the towering man dressed in black while he lit a cigarette. "He's not that scary. At least not to me," said Faith.

"Good man to have by your side at a show. You might get trampled down there."

"This is actually my first show."

Yosh choked on a hit and coughed, "really? And you came to a black metal show? That's ballsy."

"Well, it's not really my thing, but I wanted to see them play. I came from out of town just to be here tonight," Faith said proudly.

"Oh, right. You guys are from the green belt, right? Or should I say, the black circle?" Janne tittered.

Faust's eyes grew stony. "No. I'm not part of that shit. Bunch of fucking posers."

"We were just talking about the church fire there a couple weeks ago. You guys are known for that, aren't you?"

"I don't know. Guess so," Faust shrugged.

"They said there was a body found after they put out the fire, and it was nailed to some pieces of wood...like a cross or something. Can you believe that shit? How metal is that?"

Faith swallowed. She had heard the news break the day after the fire before they announced the unidentified body and after Faust had surprised her at the bus stop. They had prayed about it in church the following week and set up a collection to bulldoze the wreckage and reconstruct the chapel even bigger than before. Her mother was so stricken from the news that Faith had to spend a night at her parents' house consoling her while her father bad-mouthed the city's youth.

Bunch of heathen Satan-worshippers in this town. If I'd have known how disgusting some of these people are, I'd have never moved us out here.

Faith, her sisters and their mother all huddled on the sofa watching reruns of Full House while Stan stood hard-backed at the front window, peering out every few minutes as if the culprit might attack them next.

Oh, Stan, you don't know who did it. You can't point the finger when the police haven't even updated the community. Give the embers a chanced to cool. Besides, it's places like these that need the most help. We'll raise the money. I just hope to God they catch the people who did this.

All Faith could think about as she ate her sundae next to her sister was what she was doing the night after the fire. While the fire department was busy putting out the flames across town, she was pressed against a brick wall getting fucked by one of the heathen Satan-worshippers her father despised. She tried not to connect dots that had no business forming any kind of picture. Faust's appearance had been a coincidence.

I'll tell you who did this... It's that damned black circle. They've done it before, and they'll do it again.

Faust waved a hand in front of Faith's face, and she flinched from her reveries. "Babe? You there?"

"Oh, sorry," she laughed. "Kind of zoned out."

"Wanna head back inside?"

Faith didn't realize she was shivering until Faust rubbed her upper arms. "Sure. Yeah, let's do that."

"One puff of a joint, and you're on another planet, huh? Good seeing you Janne, Yosh... We should tour again."

"Yeah, man. As soon as possible. We're always on the road. We'd love to have you out for as many gigs as you guys can handle."

Faust nodded and clasped hands with both men before urging Faith along with a palm on her bottom. Once they made it inside, he snuck his fingers under her skirt and pinched her hard enough to give her a jolt but not to hurt.

"Faust!"

"What? No one's looking. Hey, you wanna check out our tour bus?"

Faith went to the balcony railing and saw the next band setting up their gear. She pointed below and turned to Faust. "Won't we miss the next band?"

"You actually wanna stay and watch?"

"Uh, yeah! This is my first show. I wanna see all the bands."

"All right. We can stay up here or go to the floor. But I'm warning you, it can get ruthless down there."

"I want to go down. It looks fun."

"Then we have to go now. We'll try to get right up front where you won't get swallowed in a circle pit."

"Really?" Faith gasped. "Like, right up front at the barricade?"

"Sure, why not? If you want the full experience. I'll stand right behind you and make sure crowd-surfers don't land on your head. Then after, I'll show you the bus, and...I dunno...Probably fuck."

"Oh my goodness, Faust. Yeah, right!"

"I'm serious. I'd fuck you right here if there weren't people around."

Emboldened by his suggestion, Faith whirled around and stared up at him with her brows lowered. "What's all this about the black circle?"

Faust scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

"I've heard it mentioned before and that you're part of it. I just wanna know. Is it some kind of gang?"

"Do I look like I'm in a fucking gang? No. It's just some dumb shit they made up in high school."

"They as in your friends?"

"It's stupid and means nothing."

Faith stood in place. "Well, they're saying that church burned down because of your friends. Aren't you afraid someone might ask you questions?"

"I'm not afraid of shit because I've been on tour this whole time."

"Faust—"

"What did I tell you about the twenty questions? Now, do you wanna go watch the show or do you wanna keep talking about irrelevant shit?"

Dissatisfied with his response, Faith clammed up and followed Faust to the main floor. They wriggled through the tightening crowd and got upfront before the lights lowered, and a gust of smoke covered the stage. Ominous chanting heralded in a band dressed in black hoods. Faith watched, awestruck, but in the back of her mind, thoughts of the black circle fermented, giving off a foul smell she couldn't ignore.

After the headlining band opened with pyrotechnics and the frontman tossing a skull of pig's blood over the crowd, Faust took Faith around back, where the tour buses formed a barrier between the street and the venue. He led her inside and turned on the light to reveal the interior in a state of disarray. Beer bottles overflowed in the sink, ramen noodle wrappers littered the floor, and spiked leather decorum hung over seats and tables. There was a shredded porn magazine, its contents pinned to the wall and drawn over with a black marker, breasts shooting fire and snakes slithering out of places that made Faith blush.

"Sorry about the smell. Touring always has a distinct odour of unwashed balls and puke."

Faith tried not to touch any surface until Faust showed her to the back lounge area, where they sat and looked at each other in prolonged silence. Faith reined in a smile while her boyfriend sat back and studied her face.

"I'm glad you came. Sorry that it's probably more chaotic than you expected."

"It's okay. I'm having fun."

"You sure? I know it's not really your scene."

"You're my scene," Faith said.

He reached for her hand. Faith thought he meant to hold her, but he tugged her closer instead, straddling her over his lap. His hands came up under her skirt and over her ass while they kissed. Faust pulled away as she rocked her hips forth and placed his hands on her hips.

"So, how's school?"

"You're really asking me about school when we haven't seen each other in weeks?"

"What? Is there something else you wanna do?"

"I think you know what I want."

"Yeah, but I want you to say it."

Faith peered down the hall, past the bunks, toward the front of the bus. "What if someone comes in?"

"Not like my band hasn't walked in on you sucking my cock before."

"Oh my gosh, don't remind me."

Faust darkened, pulled air through his teeth. "Did you miss me?"

"Of course, I missed you. How is that even a question?"

He tilted his hips up and let Faith drop when he relaxed. She tugged his shirt up to appreciate the trail of hair leading down from his navel.

"What did you miss the most?"

"Your big, throbbing heart," Faith giggled. "I missed cuddling with you and going on walks together. Waking up with you beside me. Your cooking."

Faust pulled her down for a hug. "All right, all right. I get it. You wanna fuck, just not in the bus."

"Do your bandmates fuck girls in here?"

Laughter burst from his mouth as he rocked Faith back and forth. "They fucking wish."

The couple chuckled until another silence proceeded. Faith saw the fiery look in Faust's eyes, the appetite for her body that never tapered, his joy from having her there on his tour bus. Yet, all Faith saw was a building on fire, flames flickering behind his green stare. She smothered the thoughts with a kiss Faust took for permission to explore under her skirt again. Maybe she could kill her suspicions by reminding herself how much he loved her, the lengths he would go to protect her.

Voices yelled outside the bus, distracting Faith but not Faust, who rolled beneath her hips, oblivious to the arousal shooting through his groin.

"Yeah, come on, baby. Pull my cock out and sit on it for me. It'll be quick."

"Faust!" Someone shouted outside of the bus.

Faith pushed on his chest and perked toward the sound.

"Where the fuck is that asshole? First, he fucks off for an entire day, loses his phone, makes us cancel a show, and now the prick can't be dicked to help load out because his bitch is here? Getting real fucking sick of the bullshit, Ola."

"Mordy, chill out, man."

The bus door opened, followed by a waft of cigarette smoke. Boot tread hammered across the floor, and Mordy swayed through to the back, scoffing when he saw Faust with his girlfriend perched on his lap.

"You wanna take apart your drumkit, or are you just gonna let it sit in the way of everyone's gear? Oh, sorry, should have known you were too busy to be fucking bothered."

Faust lifted Faith off his thighs, and she bounced on the sofa as he shot up and stared Mordy down. The bass player didn't flinch.

"What? What're you gonna do, Faust? Punch me out? Good thing it's our last show. Wouldn't want your personal business getting in the way of the biggest tour of our fucking lives so far."

"You don't know shit, so I suggest you shut your mouth."

"No, I'm not gonna shut my mouth. Someone has to stand up to you, and none of these pussies will. Go load out your fucking gear, man!"

Faust smelled whiskey on Mordy's breath. He was far too sober to start a fight with the bass player and nodded, shouldering past him. Mordy crashed into the wall and cursed as the drummer stomped off the bus, leaving Faith fidgeting with the edge of her skirt and unsure if she should follow. Mordy scoffed at her and exited the bus after Faust, shouting until she no longer heard him.

When Faust returned, Faith stood up and wrang her wrists. "Should I leave?"

"We're both leaving," Faust muttered as he tore open the zipper on his backpack and scrounged up his clothes and stage effects to stuff inside. He ducked into the small fridge and took four bottles of beer, sticking two in the holders of his bag and pocketing the other two inside his leather jacket.

"Come on. We're out of here."

"But, neither of us have a car, and we're far from home," Faith said.

"Call a cab."

Outside of the bus, guitar cases and boxes of merch waited for loading. Faust opened a tote, wrenched open a steel moneybox and took some of the cash inside. He found Faith's coat and purse and passed them to her before kicking a hole into the plastic container. Mordy and Ola noticed this as Faust walked away with Faith in tow.

"Hey, asshole! What do you think you're doing? You can't just fucking take off with the merch money!"

Faust turned around, grabbed his crotch and flipped them off. "Suck my dick, fuckbags. Find a new drummer."

[jjaeong]

Airports, And Convenience Stores.

Series: KPOP Girl Group: 이달의 소녀 (LOONA).

Pairing: Kim Hyunjin & Idol Female Reader.

Summary: If you told Y/N that a once-in-a-lifetime encounter with her favorite idol at a convenience store from way back in her trainee days would be stuck on the idol's mind for years—she wouldn't believe you. Well, until the said idol bumps into her again at a public setting and asks for her number infront of every news outlet there is.

"I'll be going now!"

"Don't forget my cider!"

"I won't!" shutting the door behind you, the familiar tune of the door signalling that it's locked played as you made your way down the hallway, adjusting the strap of your tote bag that you usually brought with you whenever you went out to do some grocery shopping. You pushed your hands into the pockets of your hoodie, making your way into the elevator and pressing the key to the ground floor before humming a song that had been going on repeat in your head ever since you first listened to it. Of course, the song was LOONA Kim Hyunjin's solo song "Around You" that had came out just a few months ago. You stumbled upon it just as when their four-member group had released their most recent song "Love&Live" which had you hooked in no time—making you get into the entire discography, and after playing everything on repeat, Kim Hyunjin just slipped her way into your heart. Maybe it was how her voice just sounds so soothing in her song, or how odd the plot of her music video was yet it reminded you of the feeling of home—you couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was about Kim Hyunjin that just spoke to you.

Well, it could also be that she's very pretty too.

You were never the one for such things, but you were drawn to the rookie idol who has yet proven herself to the audience. Somehow, this seemed to be even more attractive to you—a company that popped out of nowhere with the idea that releasing a new member every month, accompanied by a lore that keeps you reeled in every comeback..

There's so much to look forward to, and you've just been introduced to the first unit.

Your mind wanders about the lore as you walked out of the dorm's building, your feet leading you to the usual convenience store you know that was open around this time of the morning. Sometimes, you choose to stay in the store to converse with the staff that had always been kind to you, not minding at all that you were one of the most anticipated trainees to debut in your current lineup considering that articles had already spread about a monster rookie girl group to debut under SM Entertainment with your stage name highlighted on it. It was astonishing how your hard work had seemed to pay off, but with your already growing fanbase, it even further fueled the burning passion inside you to keep working harder to be able to become strong even after you debut.

Before entering the store, you stopped infront of the glass doors to pull your phone out to check if there had been any more requests from your members. This pattern with making sure to check your phone before entering the store had also been engraved in you once you came back with a bag full of snacks for your group, only to be caught by your manager and them to confiscate it all because you were on a diet—could've been avoided if only you checked the warning messages from your unnies that they sent you before you came back.

2:25AM, it read on the screen.

"Ah, Y/N. It's always nice when you drop by~"

"I can't stay for long unnie, I need to go back to the practice room after I buy these.." you motioned to the list on your phone, nose scrunched as you grabbed a basket while the pretty store clerk, Haejin, pouted at you.

"Busier and busier, huh.. Why—are you debuting tomorrow already??" you walked past her and made your way to the shelves, laughing at the eagerness in her tone as your eyes scanned the snacks for the specific ones your members had requested.

"I'm sure that if I had the date already, It'd be postponed before I even manage to tell my parents about it."

"They're so strict about that." Haejin groaned from the counter as you smiled to yourself, shrugging as if she could even see you.

"They're leading for a reason."

"I just hope you'll still be able to do these types of things once you debut, I'll barricade the doors from your saesangs if I have to."

"Unnie, how do I know you're not going to be one of my sasaengs?"

"Ah—this kid, really!" your laugh echoed through the empty convenience store yet again, the soft melody of whatever was on the radio playing in the background as you walked around the place. You pointed out numerous new items on the shelves that Haejin didn't hesitate to tell you about when they arrived, along with the reviews about them—you swear that this girl was the most enthusiastic convenience store employee you've ever encountered in your life but you guessed that it was because the girl liked your company's idols and they often drop by on her shift as well.

Haejin, as much as college seemed to have her in a chokehold—enjoyed beeing a store clerk for the reason of satiating her inner fangirl over her idols being friends with her because she worked there.

As you pulled open one of the fridge doors to look for a tub of your member's specified brand of ice cream, you heard the bells ring by the entrance, indicating a customer entering the store. You heard Haejin greet them, low voices conversing as you finally found the ice cream you were looking for and walked over to the beverage fridge, knowing exactly where the cider your unnie asked for was located.

"The bread is on that aisle." Haejin's polite voice told the customer whos footsteps you could hear was about a few shelves behind you. Managing to finish contemplating it over in your head if you wanted cider as well, you settled on grabbing strawberry milk instead and turned to make your way to the counter when you failed to feel the approaching presence from behind you. You gasped when you felt the collision of your heads against each other just before your body crashed into theirs, practically pushing the both of you to the shelves if it wasn't for you quickly stepping back and grabbing the stranger by both of their arms, dropping your basket to the ground.

"I'm so sorry, are you alright? I should've watched where I was going I—" the girl who had her head down, phone in hand against her head as she clutched a cream bun in her other looked disoriented just from how she stood as you kept a firm grip on her arms to keep her steady. You leaned over to look at her face to see if she really was alright but you could barely make out her features through her hair, brows furrowed and eyes closed.

"Ah.. I'm so stupid, I'm so sorry.." you kept trying to apologize when she quickly shook her head, rubbing her hand that held her phone on the spot where your head had hit hers.

"No, no.. I thought you weren't that close—it's my fault."

"You took it harder than I did, do you want to sit down for a while? Maybe I can—" your breath hitched when the girl finally lifted her face, brows furrowed and a frown set on her lips as her eyes stayed stuck scanning the ground. You could feel how almost instantly your heart started racing, the sound almost blocking your ears from the radio playing in the background, eyes scanning her features as she stood there in all of her glory looking as distraught as ever.

Yet very, very ethereal.

Oh my God it's Kim Hyunjin, holy sh—

"My cream bread.." her airy voice quickly snapped you back into the present, looking down at the crushed bread in her hand before eyeing the now less disoriented girl that stood infront of you. You didn't even notice how long you were just staring at her as she stared down at her bread, until she connected her eyes with you, blinking before tilting her head.

Her eyes are so pretty—

"You're that trainee in the articles." Kim Hyunjin mumbled, and only if you were paying any extra attention—you would've heard how much in awe she was, but you quickly panicked once you realized that she recognized you.

Kim Hyunjin knows who you are.

"I'm so sorry! I'll buy you two cream buns to compensate for my actions! I didn't mean to bump into you like this—I'm sorry for being a junior leaving such a bad impression! Please let me make it up to you, sunbaenim!" Hyunjin's face consorted into pure confusion when you quickly pulled your hands off her arms, taking a step back and doing a full 90° bow infront of her. She scanned you for a moment, eyeing your basket full of snacks and rocking back on the soles of her feet before leaning over to get on the same level as you, hands on her knees.

"Just.. Two cream buns?" she asked, making direct eye contact with you as you slightly turned your face to meet hers, instantly flushing at her expectant look.

"As many as you'd like, sunbaenim!" you rephrased in haste, Hyunjin's expectant look changed into amusement before a bashful smile made it's way on her lips. She reached over to pat your head gently, the action taking your breath away for a moment but she didn't seem to think that much about it, standing up straight before lightly rubbing on the spot where your heads met, looking as if she's contemplating something. You took this as a sign that she took offer, still it didn't stop you from anxiously getting back up on normal level as her eyes scanned the fridge behind you.

"I..I'll go get them for you quickly—"

"What's your name?" Hyunjin asked just as you made a move to retrieve the bread, you stopped on your tracks to look back at the older girl. Her eyes pierced through yours as if she was looking for something in them but at the moment, you could barely think about anything else other than appeasing the idol.

"Y/L/N Y/N, I'm just a trainee.." your eyes widened at your introduction, knowing damn well Hyunjin just said that she knew you were a trainee. You internally face palmed yourself but Hyunjin didn't seem to mind, if anything—the girl could almost feel your panic and as much as it pained her, she couldn't help but find your flustered state endearing.

And if you could only hear how many times Hyunjin's inner voice tried to convince her to ask for your number, or edge you more into keeping contact with her to make up for such a small mistake.. Hyunjin didn't want to be mean to you, but she's currently thinking of ways to keep you from leaving without giving her your number.

"Ah.. That rings a bell.." Hyunjin dragged her words slowly, nodding to herself as you stood there almost shaking in your spot. She looks down at her crushed bread in hand, thinking if you noticed her crushing it literally after you collided when she caught a glimpse of who exactly she bumped into.

Ofcourse she'd exaggerate her disorientation.

"Is everything okay here..?" Haejin walked over to you two, eyeing your flushed state before staring directly at Hyunjin. Haejin's brows shot up quickly, as if it was the first time she actually looked at the customer before she motioned to the girl.

"You're that Girl of the Month thing." you tensed next to the clerk to which Hyunjin's lips quickly pulled up into a big grin, finding it amusing how the clerk didn't even know which one she was but it was nice to know that their group was getting recognition. You however, something in Hyunjin just knew you knew her specifically.

"I'm the second girl, Kim Hyunjin."

"Ah! Kim Hyunjin.." Haejin furrows her brows as if she remembered the name before, hitting her fist in her palm at the sudden realization, "..the cat head girl? Around you? Y/N, you told me to play that song here all the time! Isn't this her?" Hyunjin's eyes moved to yours as you looked at Haejin in alarm, reaching over to hit her arm but stopping mid-way when you saw Hyunjin's soft eyes directed at you.

"I.. Yeah, of course. It was my favorite solo song, but I listen to Rain 51db more these days.." now you really had Hyunjin's attention, you basically outed yourself as a fan and now Hyunjin will not let you leave the store without your number in her phone.

"The 90's karaoke one?"

"Heejin-sunbaenim is really cool.."

Heejin? And you said Hyunjin's solo song was your favorite?

"I'll get sunbae's bread—" you were cut off when your phone started vibrating in the pocket of your hoodie, you pulled it out to find your manager's name on your screen calling you. Your eyes widened as the call could only mean one thing—reminding you of the practice room that was supposed to be your destination right after buying your snacks.

"Sunbaenim—"

"Practice?" Hyunjin softly asked as you frowned at your phone before looking up at her, finding warm eyes locked on yours.

"I'll make it up to you. Next time we see each other—"

"I want your phone number." Haejin audibly choked next to you as you flustered as deeply as before.

"R-right now?" Hyunjin stared at you for a moment before shaking her head—deciding against her initial plan of making sure to not let you leave without giving her your number—reaching over to grab your basket on the ground to hand it to you. You quickly grabbed ahold of the handles as Hyunjin ran her fingers through her hair, looking around the convenience store with a shrug.

"No, the next time we meet." you stared at her, completely baffled beyond words to even form a reply and so you just nodded, staring at her and trying to memorize her features as much as you can, knowing that this is the moment you part ways.

"I'm sorry.. I hope we meet again someday, in a better manner, Hyunjin-sunbaenim.." you bowed yet again at Hyunjin who oddly felt her heart warm at her name rolling off your lips smoothly, as if you've always been saying her name—in which she didn't doubt that you did, you were a fan afterall. You gave her one last shy smile before turning to Haejin, motioning to the counter to which Haejin only grinned at, following after you but not before glancing at Hyunjin who's eyes seemed to only follow your retreating figure.

"I think she likes you~"

"Be quiet! She can still hear us!"

Hyunjin reatreated back to the bread aisle as you quickly paid for all of your snacks, she listened closely when the bells at the entrance signal that you've left, to which Hyunjin felt her mood dampen at. Practically pouting to herself the entire time she walked around to look for whatever she needed to buy, she finally walked over to pay over the counter, Haejin packing her items in a bag as Hyunjin reached over to hand the clerk her card when Haejin smirked at her.

"Y/N told me to just charge it to her account, whatever it is you bought." Hyunjin raised a brow the information, to which Haejin shrugged at but still kept the smirk on her face.

"If I were you, I'd grab a few more.. you know, to make her feel like she atleast made up for it." Haejin could only look at Hyunjin's ruined cream bun and strawberry milk that she only took because it reminded her of the contents in your basket. Hyunjin shook her head at Haejin's mischievious attempt behind your back, instead, smiling softly at the ruined bread as Haejin handed her the bag.

"It's alright, she'll make up for it next time. I'm sure."

[MONSTER TRAINEE Y/N HAS OFFICIALLY DEBUTED]

[SM ENTERTAINMENT'S NEW GIRL GROUP DEBUTS AT #1 IN BILLBOARD TOP 200]

[SM ROOKIE GROUP, US DEBUT AFTER SUCCESSFUL WORLDWIDE CHART DOMINATION]

"Hi! Hello! They're so cute!!" your member waves at your fans as you stand next to her, trying your best not to squint your eyes at the rapid flashes that went off as you aligned yourself with your group, smiling at how you were all being greeted with such heavy enthusiasm. Making your group introduction, you all bowed before your manager motioned that it was time to head over inside, in which you grabbed onto one of your unnies as you slid through the crowd with your bodyguards doing their best to keep anyone from being too close to your members. As you just passed the entrance however, the flashes seemed a bit stronger and the deafening clicking of shutters, followed by screaming fans became stronger.

"JINSOUL HI!"

"CHUU I LOVE YOU!"

"YVES YOU LOOK SO PRETTY!"

Your ears perked up at the familiar names, to which your members that walked in front caught your attention when they started squealing. Your eyes settled on a few of your members being smothered by the familiar group that had just seemed to arrive, Chuu's bright smile as she hugged two of your members quickly, Choerry wildly waving at them as they bowed while Jinsoul and Yves seemed to tease them a bit.

Your groups seemed to be in the middle of paparazzis, fans, and curious gazes—in the middle of a very busy airport lobby. The crowd that circled around both groups was almost overbearing if it weren't for your bodyguards making as much space for your groups as possible. You tried to keep your distance, not wanting any sort of drama to build upon any group's name considering how heavy your own seemed to be even in your group, but then a familiar voice started to call your name.

"Y/N-unnie! Y/L/N Y/N-unnie!" your eyes instantly snapped over to find a small figure practically bouncing over to you, making you pull away from your member to insantly beam at the short girl whom you've bonded with at a variety show once. It was once but you can't seriously not love LOONA's maknae.

"Yeojin.." she instantly hugged you, giggling as you leaned over so that you can hug her back, patting her hair softly before she pulled away to smile up at you.

"What are you doing all the way here? Come on, Haseul-unnie wants to meet you!" she started tugging at your hand to which you only pursed your lips at.

"Yeojin, I'm kind of.. not good to be caught on camera with right now."

"Why not? You're practically as famous as us right now! I mean, even if you weren't it's still okay! We're friends!" Yeojin tried to reassure you but something just didn't sit right with the manager telling you a few days back that your name was at such a high place right now, and they wanted you to take care of it and make sure you didn't get into any sort of trouble or your group was going to plummet.

It was repulsive how they highlighted the idea that since you were on the first of all brand reputations since your groups debut, it was up to you to keep your group's name afloat. And if that type of toxicity rubs any other groups the wrong way..

"Oh.. we have to leave.." Yeojin mumbles, sounding disheartened as she looked up to find you giving her a sad smile. She shook her head, hugging you again before giving you a pointed look.

"I'll call you the moment we get back to the dorms, and then we'll plan another meetup. I promise—no paparazzis, we'll have lots of fun then, alright Y/N-unnie? I promise!" your heart dropped as Yeojin slowly made her way over to her group's retreating figures, she waved at you, still smiling brightly and just like that—your heart feels a little bit better at the girl's energy. Yeojin quickly bumped into Haseul, hugging her as Haseul's eyes moved to yours, you gave her a small smile and she reciprocated along with a wave.

Their group had always felt oddly comforting, but in a good way.

As your group slowly moved away from LOONA, you turned to face the direction of where you were supposed to be heading when your eyes seemed to have found themselves locking with stunningly familiar ones, eyes that would always seem to remind you of a cat's. You quickly turned away though, thinking that the woman who made your heart race about two years ago—now with striking dyed red hair—wouldn't even remember you at all. But your mind seemed to have stopped functioning completely when her usually soft, and airy voice boomed through the lobby and all of the commotion just to call your name.

"Hey! Y/L/N Y/N!" almost everyone around the both of you looked rattled out of their minds, watching silently as the two last members of each group stood only but a few feet apart, members standing behind them stopping on their tracks to understand what it was all about. Heejin whom was standing next to Hyunjin looked scared for a moment, only for her eyes to soften when they landed on your figure.

Jinsoul on the other hand had no filter, literally saying, "What is this? This is how you get a girl's attention, Kim Hyunjin?" before Kim Lip bursted into her iconic laughing face, grabbing Jinsoul's arm and shaking her. Chuu smiled widely at you, she always had but this time it's as if there was some meaning to it, with Cheorry turning from waving at a fan to grin at you—along with Yves smirking and Vivi giving Haseul a side eye.

Even Olivia Hye looked intrigued by the commotion, with Gowon drowsily clinging onto her but looking around as if she was confused.

"Y/L/N Y/N.." Hyunjin said softly this time, eyes only on you. You swallowed sharply, quickly bowing with the usual 90° degrees before eyeing all of the cameras that seemed to surround the both of you.

"Hyunjin, maybe another time.." Heejin tried to tell her bestfriend but she barely paid any attention to it. Instead, LOONA's Kim Hyunjin walked over to Y/L/N, in the middle of every single news outlet there is, every single fansite, every single curious gaze—she stood infront of you with a determined look on her face that had you shuddering slightly on your spot. She looked more mature up close, if you had a major change from losing some of your baby fat, Hyunjin looked almost nothing like the soft featured sunbaenim you met in that store two years before your debut. She looked like an actual sunbae now—if that made sense—as she stared right back at you, the soft gaze was still there but her aura emitted such strength, a newfound sense of maturity that wasn't exactly present when you bumped into her that morning.

"Hyunjin-sunbaenim." Hyunjin felt slightly taken aback by how your voice seemed so different from how it always used to echo in her head since that day, you no longer looked like kid and instead—if it was even possible, you looked way more beautiful than the first time she saw you in that damn article. And God, you've aged well since she last bumped into you, even though you look as if you could easily be knocked off on your feet from the pressure of all the eyes on you right now..

Hyunjin wanted to tell you that you'll be fine, that you're doing great.

You shouldn't be so hard on yourself.

But Hyunjin wasn't that good with words, she proved that to herself when countless of times she'd hear Yeojin talking about her day with you, how she always said you were bound for a great career ahead. Hyunjin could barely ask Yeojin for your number, she wanted to just have it so many times but that was your deal, she wanted to get it from you because she respected you—and it took her two years.

Two years to find the guts to stand infront of her favorite junior, practically the only junior that had caught her attention ever since.

"Here, type in your number." if your eyes could only bulge out of it's sockets right now, it would've. Collective gasps and camera flashes started going off as Hyunjin held out her phone infront of you, looking as laid back as ever while your mind goes into a complete shut down.

"What did she say?"

"Hyunjin just asked for Y/N's number? Here?!"

"Oh my God, this is—what??"

"Alright, alright—you're not seriously doing this here, aren't you, Kim Hyunjin-ssi?" Yves calls out from behind Hyunjin but the girl didn't even hint at acknowledging it, making Heejin sigh and turn to Yves with a knowing look, the challenging smile on Yves' lips dropping into a confused pout as Jinsoul let out yet another one of her amazed laugh.

"Wah! This is really happening!" Chuu and Kim Lip bursts into a fit of laughter, the sound bringing you back from your trance to scan your sunbaenim's now flushed face.

Kim Hyunjin is.. flustered?

"Sunb—"

"Hyunjin is fine." your eyes moved to the awestruck people around you, trying to find both of your managers only to find your members holding your own back—and LOONA's manager watching the interaction with an amused look.

"Are you going to make it up to me or not? I'm not the one with a flight to catch, Y/L/N Y/N." Hyunjin rolled her eyes but only in a teasing manner, tilting her head at you as she lightly waved her phone onto your confused face before it registered to you that she was talking about the convenience store incident. You instantly flushed, cursing internally at how you could forget your own words like that before nodding quickly, reaching over to grab her phone only for it to be pulled away by Hyunjin which confused you once again.

"I want your number, not your manager's, not your members', not the number you give for business transactions—I want the number on your actual phone," Hyunjin stated firmly, leaning her face to yours and staring at you intently. You nodded slowly as you reached over to grab her phone, but she pulled it away yet again, "I want to be your friend, Y/N." she finished, placing her phone in your hand before pulling away to lower her eyes at you as she crossed her arms on her chest.

And just like that, there goes all of your worries about everyone's prying eyes and your spot on the brand reputation rankings..

You swallowed thickly, trying to calm the sudden burning feeling in your entire body as you quickly typed in your number—cautiously eyeing her intimidating stance before grabbing your phone from your back pocket, pressing the call button on Hyunjin's phone for your own to start ringing. Once Hyunjin looked satisfied, you typed your group's name and then your name before handing Hyunjin her phone.

"Assa! Unnie~" Gowon cheered from behind Hyunjin, with Olivia Hye looking at the back of Hyunjin's head as if she's impressed.

That didn't stop Kim Lip from cackling loudly with Jinsoul, Chuu, Yeojin and Choerry though.

"Kim Hyunjin! Just like always!" Heejin cheered, grinning when Hyunjin turned to glare at them.

"Yeojin said she'd call me when you're all back to the dorms.."

"Not if I call you first." Hyunjin stated firmly with a knowing look, as if she already knew she was going to win.

To which you only softly smiled at.

"It's a thirteen hour flight to the US, you know that right?"

"Hyunjin! We need to go!"

"I know!" Hyunjin's eyes widened, waving her hands dismissively, "That's not directed to you, Y/N—I can't ever get mad at you." Hyunjin frowned to herself to which you only shortly laugh at, nodding before glancing at your own members making heart poses but the others also pointing to the gates. You faced Hyunjin who looked almost like an abandoned cat who didn't want you to leave.

"I should get going.."

"..yeah."

"See you around, Hyunjin." you bowed yet again, but this time it was a quick one and with a smile—different from the ones that were shy, and apologetic—it was an actual smile, a smile that Hyunjin felt as if the butterflies in her stomach were going wild as you did the simple action.

"See you, Y/N." Hyunjin watched as you retreated back slowly to your members, hesitant yet making your way back to them. You were just about to disappear from her view when you heard her call you again, to which you almost automatically turn at, but you did anyways, stopping on your tracks yet again to find the image of a giddy looking red haired Kim Hyunjin smiling from ear to ear, eyes crinkled as she did.

"You're still going to make it up to me, right Y/N?" she asked sweetly, making you all flustered yet again as everyone around you seemed to find this interaction sweet.

"Ofcourse, I promised."

And with that, Kim Hyunjin practically skipped all the way to the van—staring at your contact name she changed on her phone.

My Favorite Hoobae.

Hi~

This acc is dedicated to writing loona ideas that I have, maybe some day I'll take requests who knows—but for now, I'm going to focus on writing alot of imagines for Kim Hyunjin because she's my bias and I.. Don't.. See.. Much.. Hyunjin.. Imagines..? So yeah, if y'all want to follow, by all means we're chill here~ but thanks for reading! I hope this was as entertaining to you as it was for me writing it!

Also, I make the gifs myself, but to give credit to the original source I will always put the link of the video and the channel name from where I got it from at the bottom of each author's note. If any of these sources do not want their work to be displayed like this, please inform me immediately and i will get rid of the gif and.. find another source that wouldn't mind. I just use specific visuals for the ideas so..

May Kim Hyunjin guide me to write even more..

Laters (for now),

JJ.

> ovc: NewsenTV (200120)

https://youtu.be/Tr4ta5DzKE0

[svtshine]

Meeting Vernon for the first time

title: A meeting by chance

pairing: Hansol x reader

genre: oneshot, scenario

about: fluff, fansign!au

summary: you weren’t actually a fan of seventeen however your roommate was a big fan of their band. She was supposed to attend their fansign but she unfortunately fell sick that day and begged you to go in her place, to get their signatures.

“please Y/n, please you have to go in my place. i’m BEGGING you.” your roommate pleaded you, sniffing, while hugging your arm. You rolled your eyes and continued playing your game. “F/n, you need to stay away from me. i don’t need your flu germs as much as i love you” your roommate sighed, adjusting the surgical mask she was wearing and wrapped the fluffy blankets closer to her.

“Y/n, this is a chance of a lifetime. if i can’t go YOU have to go FOR me. please” she begged you again and showing you her puppy eyes. “I’ll uh do your laundry for one and a half month” you hummed and shrugged your shoulders, showing that you weren’t interested in her deal.

“Fine, i’ll fix you your meals and always restock the snack basket for you” you blinked at her and gave her a look saying, you know better than that. “FINE a new skateb-“

“deal.” you said, eyes still focused on your game

your roommate jumped and hugged you while squealing. “thank you sooo much, okay i definitely owe you”

“yes F/n, you do”

“i can’t believe i got sick....this is horrible. But at least i have you, now get off your game. i need to teach you some stuff you have to do for me at the fansign”

“i’m finishing, go eat your meds and then we’ll talk”

your roommate nodded, couldn’t fight with you anyways.

After finishing up your match, you stretched your arms and neck finding them a little stiff after playing too long. You walked out of your little apartment to where you found your roommate finishing up her soup that you made earlier in the morning. you pulled out a chair and joining her at the dining table. you placed your chin on your hand and looked to the right, looking at the bag of stuff on the couch

“ok Y/n, there’s 13 members. And i have a newer album for them to sign on. i’ve packed goodies and specific items to give each member. so just try to listen out for their name and you’d be able to give it to them” you nodded. 13 members, that’s a lot, you thought.

“Anyways you gotta reach there early and start queuing. Thank you so much again, try not to get lost babe” You sighed, and watched her finish eating and then helped her wash the dishes and made sure she went to bed.

you looked through the bag of goodies and you also found pictures next to each members name. Vernon, you found. You carefully picked up his item and brushed your fingertips at his picture so as to not crumple anything. He’s gorgeous i should also probably learn abit more about them for tomorrow

you just wanted to learn about vernon.

American-South Korean rapper. real name is Hansol, 1.78 metres, 22 years old. He’s older than you. positioned as main rapper and in the Hip-hop unit

hmm not bad, pretty muscular too. you thought to yourself, looking at his form and couldn’t help but stare into his mesmerising eyes, even if it was a photograph.

you even watched their HOME;RUN MV since you were curious as to the music they produce. You couldn’t help it when your eyes continued following vernon dancing and rapping the whole times

for some reason you just couldn’t look away.

Anyways you shook your head and checked the time before deciding it was better for you to turn in for tomorrow’s event.

When the next morning came, you woke up early, washed up, and had breakfast before checking your roommate if she needed anything. F/n was still asleep so you took abit longer in choosing your outfit, a simple cropped sweater set and jeans. Clipping your hand in a claw clip before carrying the bag filled with seventeen items and your ticket and heading out.

You were definitely slightly shocked at the amount of people who were already waiting patiently for the even to start, but your roommate did warn you about being early beforehand. You read the signs and went to queue for your turn. You waited almost an hour or two, waiting for the time your name would finally be called to lineup front

Now you could see the boys lined up in a row. Your roommate was right when she said that these boys, they literally sparkled. You turned to look at every one of them, your gaze lingering on one specific member. you got ready your things as you started off with the first member in the row, Seungcheol. The boys were actually very friendly and warm towards their fans, and although you had explained why sometimes you needed to ask for their name because you were only helping out a friend, they still treated you with respect and asked about you.

it was nice to see how the boys kindly treat their supporters. You finally got to Joshua, your palms were getting a bit sweaty since the next member was vernon.

Joshua flashed you a warm smile, which reminded you of sunshine and teddy bears.

“What’s your name.” joshua said getting ready to sign on the album. “oh uh, i’m Y/n, but could you help me sign off with F/n.” you replied.

Joshua looked at you kind of curious as to how you were abit more calm as compared to previous fans when meeting him and the rest.

“i’m here for a friend, she was supposed to come but she fell sick yesterday and didn’t want to risk spreading her awful germs to anyone. i didn’t really know you guys, but my friend really complimented all of you” you smiled awkwardly.

joshua gave you a nod and a look saying he understood what you were saying. “Wow your roommate must be lucky to have a friend who would do so much for her, even when she doesn’t know the band. tell her to get well soon for me.” he smiled and signed on the album while initiating a conversation with you. Joshua was very welcoming, and he made the conversation very comfortable so you were pretty immersed in it.

Vernon finished signing the album of the fan infront of him when he looked up and his eyes landed on you. his heart unconsciously skipped a beat and he didn’t understand why he felt a pull towards you. Of course you were one of the prettiest girls he has ever met, but he just felt attracted to you. when Joshua raised his hand to give you a high five and the both of you locked hands for a while. Vernon felt a need to pull you away from him. the sight of you smiling towards Joshua and not him, slightly bummed him.

it was so weird how fast he felt a connection with you. it was like he couldn’t take his eyes off you. But he had to, focusing on the fan infront of him and waving her off, knowing you were next.

you bid goodbye to Joshua as the staff requested that you moved to the next member. Your heart started beating faster as you placed the album infront of vernon and picked up his item from the bag to pass it to him. He smiled and thanked you for the gift. Vernon’s smile left you mesmerised and for a while you stared at him

“What’s your name” Vernon said in a voice that left you nervous

“Y/n, ah but this album is for a friend so if you don’t mind, could you use F/n. i watched an MV of your song for the first time yesterday and you were probably the most amazing i felt. but don’t tell the rest, they were awesome too.” the last part you sort of whispered

but vernon heard every word you and his cheeks started blushing slightly.

“Thank you Y/n, you know i don’t say this a lot but i think, in this hall, you shine the brightest.” Vernon gave you a bigger smile and reached for your hand, interlocking them with his. you were amazed and shocked by how much your smaller hand fit inside his way bigger hand. he swayed your hands side to side as he continued writing on the album while engaging a conversation with you.

Vernon made you feel like the only two people in this room were the two of you. you felt an attraction for him that you’ve never felt for anyone before.

however, soon it was time to move on to the next member. Vernon gave you a slight pout and wrote something swiftly on a piece of paper and sliding in into the album. He winked at you and you knew that message was for you.

He was the third last member thus you soon reached the end of the line and you bid goodbye to DK, the last member.

You stayed a little while afterwards for one performance. It was definitely dazzling, watching them dance in tune to each other, smiling to the audience and engaging with their fans. You wanted to learn more about them.

Unknowingly, Vernon was always looking at you. The whole time. Even when he was rapping or just standing and waiting for another member to give a speech, his eyes never moved away from you. He rapped his heart out for you. Maybe it was because he loved how excited you looked whenever his part came on, or the smile that grew wider when they danced to the song.

You breathed out a sigh and stretched out your arms when you left the building, sadly you had to check on your roommate and leave for your part time job.

your hand touched your chest where your heart laid. It was a wonderful time, meeting the boys and watching them perform in real life.

oh! you remembered the note that vernon left you. you quickly dugged out the album from your bag and flipped to the pages. The small piece of paper fell and it looked like a napkin.

written in scribbled handwriting,

Y/n

This is the first time i’m doing this for a girl i just met. but something about you, just made me want to know you better. Please call or text me!

+82 XX XXXX XXXX

Yours,

Hansol

your eyes widened at the sight of his message, you fumbled slightly and quickly found your found and typed in his number.

You stared at his contact, and a big smile grew on your face.

You were definitely going to thank your friend for this meeting by chance

Masterlist

[btschooseafic]

Hey you, what’s your dream?

Pairing: platonic!oc x ot7

Details: manager!oc, predebut/idolverse, partial BTS World!verse

Summary: The Bangtan lineup is finalized. Aviva gets a promotion.

Warnings: This is a fictional story based on real events. The characters presented here are not the same as their real life counterparts. [Masterlist]

Track 8: The Final Lineup

 Dream Team - Niykee Heaton

 “Stand up if you fucking with the underdogs

Dream team, if you're new, come and fuck with us”

 September 2012

“Namjoon-ah! Namjoon-ah! Namjoon-ah!” Aviva said, her shoes squeaking as she turned the corner running towards him. A few doors opened as she ran, staff and trainees muttering curiously.

The studio door popped open. Aviva jumped out of the way, narrowly avoiding getting hit in the face. “What? Aviva-yah?” He looked over her shoulder at the others eyeing them and pulled her into the room, shutting the door behind them. “What’s going on, is everything okay?”

“Sort of? I don’t know…” She took a deep breath. “Listen, I’ve been promoted—“

“That’s great news!” Namjoon said, pulling her into a hug.

“Namjoon!” She squeaked into his chest, pulling at the back of his shirt.

“What?” He pulled away from her slightly, his arms still around her.

“This is serious!” She said.

Namjoon blinked. “Okay… But isn’t it a good thing? Why do you seem so scared?”

Aviva gripped tighter at his shirt. “I’m the General Manager of BTS…” she said, so quietly he almost didn’t hear her.

“What?” He stared at her.

“What? What?” She mocked him, slipping out from his arms and crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “Is that all you can say?” She ran her hand through her hair. “I mean, I was shocked too. I’m still shocked… apparently Bang-PD has been planning this from the start? That’s why he kept transferring me around to the different managing departments, to get varied experience. And apparently all those sunbaenims reported that I’d done well…”

Slowly, a smile spread over his face.

“Siljangnim.”

“What? No—“ She hit him on the arm. “Namjoon, don’t address me so formally, I’m your age, you’re my friend.”

“Yeah, and I’m happy for my friend!” Namjoon said, catching her hand and squeezing it in his. “This is great news! You’ve been part of this from the start, now it’s just a little more official.”

First things first, Aviva gathered all the members in the conference room. They sat at the table, staring around at each other.

Aviva was staring at Jin and Jimin, who were eating a giant lollipop and a popsicle, respectively. She wondered if they were nervous eating. She wondered if they could find her something sweet to eat. She felt stiff as a board. No one was saying anything, it was so awkward!

“So…” Taehyung said slowly. “When are we eating lunch?” Aviva’s eyes lit up.

“That’s it!” She pulled out her wallet. “I have a company card, let’s treat ourselves for making it to the final lineup!” The boys all cheered. Yoongi snorted.

“You know, it’s cute when you get excited,” he said quietly as they left the room. She blinked at him, her face flushing. He just laughed and kept walking, his hands in his pockets. She shook her head.

“Okay,” Aviva said as Jin poked at the meat sizzling at the center of the table, the rest of the boys watching in anticipation. “I know we all know each other, but maybe we should start with introductions to make it official. Seokjin-ssi, you can start first since you are the oldest member—”

“Eh? Why are you using such formal speech? And just call me Jin-oppa as usual, Aviva-yah,” Jin said. “Anyway, I want to talk about the group name first.”

“I like it!” Jimin said.

“Yeah, whatever Jiminie said,” Taehyung said, clearly not really paying attention.

“Hmm.” Hoseok hummed uncertainly. “It could be better.”

“I’m just glad it’s not Bullet Proof Boyz anymore,” Namjoon muttered.

“Ah!” Hoseok pointed at him. “You’re right. BTS is way better than BPB.”

Jimin’s nose wrinkled. “BPB?” He repeated. “That’s not cute at all.”

“I just don’t get Bangtan Sonyeodan,” Jin continued. “Why are we boy scouts?”

“Cause boyz with a z is outdated?” Aviva wondered.

“Hm. I thought Bang-PD just liked the rhythm of it. Like, bah-bah, bah-bah-bah,” Yoongi counted out, tapping his finger on the table. “It’s not bad.”

“Hmmm, well, alliterative names are popular at the moment. Also names that can be shortened into something cute and chant-able,” Aviva said, flipping through her notebook.

“Chant-able?” Yoongi repeated, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Give her a break, Korean’s not her first language,” Namjoon said, though he was smirking a bit as well. She shushed them.

“But I always liked the bulletproof part,” Hoseok admitted. “Like we’re superheroes, or something.”

“Ah.” Namjoon nodded, rubbing his chin. “What was it he said? Something like ‘wanting us to be a shield against the oppression that youth is facing.’?”

“Something like that,” Aviva agreed.

“When’s it gonna be done?” Yoongi asked Jin. Aviva sighed.

“Guys, we didn’t even start the introductions!”

“Like you said, we all know each other,” Yoongi said, unconcerned. “Maybe you’d better go check on Jungkookie instead.”

“What?” She looked at Jungkook’s empty seat, just realizing he was missing.

“I think I saw him leave a little while ago,” Taehyung said. “But I was distracted by the meat, so I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Meat,” Yoongi agreed, making grabby hands at the food. Aviva sighed.

“I’ll go look for him.”

“Try that way, manager-noona,” Taehyung said, pointing.

“Jungkook-ah?” Aviva called out, looking around.

“…Over here,” a voice called back quietly. Aviva stepped through an open door to find Jungkook sitting on a staircase, his head in his hands.

“What are you doing over here?” Aviva said. “We’ve all been looking for you.”

Jungkook muttered something, avoiding eye contact and hugging his arms around himself. “I’m sorry… It was too awkward…”

Aviva sat down next to him. “Dude, you’re practically dating my younger sister, I would say we’re way past awkward,” she thought. He laughed nervously. “Anyway, you’ve known these guys for a while, why is it different now?”

Jungkook looked at her. “Cause it’s official? I don’t know.” He shrugged. Aviva ruffled his hair. He put his hands on his hips. “Please don’t treat me like a child.”

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted to comfort you somehow.” Jungkook sighed. “How about you come back and eat? That might make you feel a little better.”

Back at the table, the conversation finally started to flow. Jimin and Jungkook spoke about growing up in Busan, while Namjoon and Yoongi were talking about an old Hip Hop site they both used to use, and friends from the old days.

“Oh, how’s Soonyoung-noona?” Hoseok asked Aviva. “I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“She’s been hired by Big Hit as producer,” Aviva told him, smiling proudly.

“What?” Yoongi said sharply. “But I asked Bang-PD-nim recently, and he said they weren’t looking for any producers at the moment.”

“Aw, hyung, were you gonna ditch us for producing?” Hoseok said.

“In a heartbeat,” Yoongi deadpanned.

Aviva snorted.

“They aren’t looking for any more producers,” she elaborated. “Soonyoung asked him months ago, but I think part of the reason they got in was as a diversity hire, since the production team is all men except for her.”

Yoongi groaned.

“I still think it’s weird they keep the girls and boys trainees so separate,” Namjoon thought. “And that they discourage dating—do you know what one of the most popular song topics is?”

“Love?” Taehyung suggested, making a little heart with his fingers. Namjoon nodded, pointing at him.

“Exactly. How are we supposed to be able to write love songs if they don’t let us fall in love?”

“Then write about that,” Aviva suggested. “Use what you’ve got.” Namjoon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Aviva looked at her phone. “Anyway, back to the group name, we can’t change it, cause I’ve just got an email that our social media platforms have been registered under that name.”

[watusichris]

Betty Davis: They Say She’s Different

It appears that everything anyone has written for the old Music Aficionado site has now disappeared from the web. A random Facebook post has prompted me to re-purpose this story, written in 2016, about my favorite funketress. **********

To this day, the name Betty Davis – Betty with a “y,” that is – remains best known to connoisseurs of Miles Davis minutiae and ‘70s funk obsessives. While it’s true that Betty played an important off-stage role in the career of the jazz trumpeter, to whom she was married for just a year, and she undoubtedly made some of the best hardcore funk records of her era, she deserves to be recognized beyond the relatively narrow provinces of the jazzbo and the crate-digger.

Uncompromising, intelligent, brazen, aggressive, and not incidentally gorgeous, sexually provocative, and a fashion plate always ahead of the curve, Betty was a prophetic figure. Spawned by the explosion of music, fashion, and alternative culture of the late ‘60s, and by concurrent leaps in black consciousness and feminism, she was a take-no-prisoners singer and writer who presented herself as something new, rich, and strange with her self-titled debut album in 1973.

There were some badass contemporaries working the soul and funk trenches– gutter-tongued diva Millie Jackson and one-time James Brown paramour Yvonne Fair leap to mind immediately – but they seemed to be adapting tropes previously worked by male singers in the genres. Betty still sounds like something new: a tough, smart, demanding woman who reveled in pleasure and insisted on satisfaction, unafraid to claim what she wanted.

Despite the fact that she was associated with some high-profile male musician friends and lovers – beyond Davis, the roll call included Hugh Masekela, Jimi Hendrix, Sly Stone, Mike Carabello, Eric Clapton, and Robert Palmer – she was no groupie or bed-hopping climber. Possessed of her own self-defining vision, she was producing her own records and leading a tight, flexible little band by the end of her brief run.

In 1976, after completing four splendid albums (only three of which were released at the time), she disappeared, not only from the music business but from the public eye entirely. What happened? It’s an old story that many women in the industry will recognize: Her record company didn’t know what to do with her, and wanted her to tone down her act. Betty Davis wasn’t having any of that, thank you, and she hit the damn road.

She was born Betty Mabry in Durham, NC, in 1945. She grew up country, and was exposed to down-home, get-down music early. On the title track of her second album, They Say I’m Different, she runs down the artists who served as inspirations: Big Mama Thornton, John Lee Hooker, Lightnin’ Hopkins, Howlin’ Wolf, Albert King, Chuck Berry. The blues, in one form or another, is the backbone of her style.

Her family relocated to Pittsburgh when she was young, but at 16 she left home for the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York. There she was hurtled into the roiling cultural vortex of the Village. She took up modeling, working for the toney Wilhelmina agency, and began running with a posse of similarly disposed, equally beautiful women who called themselves the “Electric Ladies.” Sound familiar? One of her closest cohorts was Devon Wilson, for many years a notorious consort of Jimi Hendrix known for her freewheeling, outré sex- and drug-saturated lifestyle.

Mabry began to try her hand at singing, and cut a few self-penned singles. They were in an old-school mold in terms of structure, but her very first 45 hints at things to come. “Get Ready For Betty,” a 1964 track released by Don Costa (discoverer of Paul Anka and Trini Lopez and a key arranger for Frank Sinatra), is stodgy early-‘60s NYC R&B to its core, but its message is pointed: “Get out my way, girl, ‘cause I’m comin’ to take your man.”

She also made a stolid romantic duet ballad with singer Roy Arlington and, produced by cult soul man Lou Courtney, a homage to the Cellar, the New York club where she DJed. But she didn’t start reaching the upper echelon of the music biz until one of her songs, a hymn to Harlem called “Uptown,” was cut by the Chambers Brothers for their smash 1968 album The Time Has Come, which also included the psychedelic soul workout “Time Has Come Today.”

The Chambers association probably secured a singles deal for her at Columbia Records, and her first session for the major label was produced by her former live-in boyfriend, South African trumpeter Masekela, in October 1968. By that time, she had split with him: A month earlier, she had married a far more famous horn player, Miles Davis, whom she had met in 1967. Davis and his regular producer Teo Macero would head her second session for Columbia in May 1969.

Those two dates were released for the first time as The Columbia Years 1968-1969 earlier this month by Light in the Attic, the independent label that has restored Betty’s entire catalog to print over the last decade. While devoted fans can be grateful that the work is finally seeing the light of day, it does not make for easy listening, for it was clearly made by people groping in the dark.

Betty’s artistic persona was at that point completely unformed, and so her male Svengalis did their best to mold the clay in their hands, with feeble results. Masekela evidently completed just three tracks, two of which, “It’s My Life” and “Live, Love, Learn,” were issued as a flop single. The homiletic song titles give the game away; the music, straight-up commercial soul backed by a large group (which included Wilton Felder and Wayne Henderson of the Jazz Crusaders and Masekela), has nothing original to say.

The date with Miles is a bigger waste, if a more spectacular one. The personnel couldn’t have been more glittering: Hendrix sidemen Billy Cox and Mitch Mitchell; ex-Detroit Wheels guitarist Jim McCarty; bassist Harvey Brooks, studio familiar of Bob Dylan and former member of the Electric Flag; and Davis’ then-current or future band mates Herbie Hancock, Wayne Shorter, John McLaughlin, and Larry Young.

But nothing jells. The material is either weak (Betty’s directionless original “Hangin’ Out” is the best of a bad lot) or incongruous (lumbering covers of Cream’s “Politician” and Creedence’s “Born On the Bayou”). Worse, the jazzers are unable to lay down anything resembling a solid soul-rock foundation, and even reliable timekeeper Mitchell blows the groove on more than one occasion. Miles gets impatient with his spouse at one point, rasping over the talk-back, “Sing it just like that, with the gum in your mouth and all, bitch.”

Apparently intended as demos, the failed tracks were consigned to the tape library. By late ���69, Miles and Betty’s marriage was history. She left her mark on his music: She appeared on the cover of his cover of his 1968 album Filles de Kilimanjaro and inspired its extended track “Mademoiselle Mabry” (based on the chords that opens Hendrix’s “The Wind Cries Mary”) and “Back Seat Betty” from his 1981 comeback album The Man With the Horn.

Moreover, she moved him toward the flash style that would dominate his music through the mid-‘70s, by exposing him to the slamming music of Hendrix and Sly and exchanging his continental suits for psychedelic pimp togs. Would we know Bitches Brew, On the Corner, and Agharta without Betty Davis? Maybe, maybe not.

For her part, Betty remained in the wings for a while. She collaborated on demos for the Commodores; in London, she modeled, worked on songs for Marc Bolan of T. Rex, and declined a production offer from her then-paramour Clapton. Drifting back to New York, she met Santana percussionist Carabello. They became involved romantically, and in 1972 she relocated to the San Francisco Bay area, where Carabello’s local connections led to the formation of a stellar band to back her on a debut album.

One reads the credits for Betty Davis in awe. The rhythm section was the Family Stone’s dissident, puissant rhythm section, bassist Larry Graham and drummer Greg Errico (who also produced). Original Santana guitarist Neal Schon, future Mandrill axe man Doug Rodrigues, founding Graham Central Station organist Hershall Kennedy, and keyboardist and ace Jerry Garcia collaborator Merl Saunders filled out the instrumentation. The Pointer Sisters, Sylvester, and Kathi McDonald were among a large platoon of backup vocalists.

Issued in 1973 by Just Sunshine Records, an independent label owned by Woodstock Festival promoter Michael Lang (who also released a set by another unique woman, folk singer-guitarist Karen Dalton), Betty Davis was one hell of a coming-out party. Since her abortive Columbia dates, she had developed a unique vocal attack that could leap from a velvety croon to a Tina Turner-like shriek in a nanosecond. The stomping funk of the studio band backed her up to the hilt.

Like Turner, she was one Bold Soul Sister. The lust-filled opening invitation “If I’m in Luck I Might Get Picked Up” announces that a new game was afoot. The statement of romantic/sexual independence “Anti Love Song,” the lovers’ chess match “Your Man My Man,” and the self-explanatory “Game is My Middle Name” offer up a startling, hard-edged new model of a hard-funking female vocalist.

The album’s most affecting track may be “Steppin in Her I. Miller Shoes,” Davis’ level-headed elegy for her sybaritic friend Devon Wilson, who sailed out a window at the Chelsea Hotel in 1971. “She coulda been anything that she wanted…Instead she chose to be nothing,” Davis sings, implying that route wouldn’t be one she would take herself.

“If I’m in Luck” grazed the lower reaches of the R&B singles chart and the album failed to reach the LP rolls at all, but Davis was undaunted. For 1974’s They Say I’m Different, she took the producer’s reins, which she would hold for the rest of her career. While the backup lineup is less glitzy (though Saunders, Pete Escovedo, and Buddy Miles, on guitar no less, appear), the support is still sizzling; crackling drums and burbling clavinet put over a set of songs that may have been even stronger than those heard on her debut.

No one who hears “He Was a Big Freak” is likely to ever forget it; it’s a startling dissection of a masochistic relationship -- inspired by Jimi Hendrix, and not, as many have assumed, by Miles Davis (“Everyone knows that Miles is a sadist,” Betty remarked later). Almost as notable are “Don’t Call Her No Tramp,” a prescient condemnation of what we now call slut-shaming, and the autobiographical title track, with slicing slide guitar work by Cordell Dudley.

Different and its attendant singles tanked, but Betty managed to maintain her profile with live gigs noteworthy for their uninhibited bawdiness, on-stage abandon, and the star’s Egyptian-princess-from-outer-space wardrobe sense. By early 1974 she had assembled a hot, lean road band that included her cousins Nickey Neal and Larry Johnson on drums and bass, respectively, plus keyboardist Fred Mills and guitarist Carlos Morales. This lineup would back her on her last two albums.

The end of Just Sunshine’s distribution deal liberated Davis, who, at the suggestion of then-boyfriend Robert Palmer, inked with Palmer’s label Island Records. The company released Nasty Gal in 1975, and it may be Davis’ best-executed work. The pared-down backing lets the songs shine, and there are good ones here: The shameless title song, the vituperative blast at the critics “Dedicated to the Press,” and the out-front ultimatum for sexual satisfaction “Feelins” get right up in the listener’s face. The most surprising track is the ballad “You and I,” an unexpected songwriting reunion with Miles, orchestrated by the trumpeter’s famed arranger Gil Evans.

It’s a tremendous album, and Betty supported it with live shows that ate the funk competition alive. A bootleg of an especially out-there set recorded at a festival on the French Riviera in 1976 literally climaxes with Nasty Gal’s “The Lone Ranger,” an in-the-saddle heavy breather that Davis wraps up by feigning a loud orgasm.

One should remember that at this particular juncture, Madonna was studying dance at the University of Michigan.

But Nasty Gal faded with hardly a trace, and Davis’ relationship with Island swiftly became fractious. It’s easy to see why the label declined to issue her final album, originally called Crashin’ From Passion and ultimately released, after years as a bootleg, by Light in the Attic in 2009 as Is It Love or Desire. The collection, which leans heavily on songs about sex, doping, and heavy drinking, includes “Stars Starve, You Know,” an outright condemnation of the games record companies play:

They said if I wanted to make some money

I’d have to change my style

Put a paper bag over my face

Sing soft and wear tight fitting gowns

 They don’t like the way I’m lookin’

So it’s hard for my agent to get me bookin’s

Unless I cover up my legs and drop my pen

And commit one of those commercial sins…

 Oh hey hey Island

And that was all she wrote. Until writers began to seek her out in the new millennium as her records became available again, Betty Davis was an invisible woman, one who had blazed a trail that other talents, such as Prince and Madonna, would blaze more profitably after her. She was definitively ahead of her time.

Asked by one writer what she had done since leaving music, Davis, who turns 71 on July 26, responded with the most tragic thing one can imagine any artist saying: “Nothing really.”

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #16- All the Greatest Love Songs are Secretly About Heroin

Dang, been a minute since we got into the series proper. What all happened again?

Oh. Right. That.

…So anyway, let’s brush up on our Ultra Magnus history!

There was a massive fight on top of a spaceship. Swoop was there, Impactor was there, Overlord was there, Heretech was there, Killmaster was there- shit was lit. Ultra Magnus was doing his thing, though it looks like this was before he got LASIK done, because he’s got a visor on.

Then Ultra Magnus got shot in the gut and fell off the spaceship. It was so scary his hand started spasming.

Later on, we return to a place we’ve seen before, albeit from the Decepticon side.

Magnus, your badge isn’t up to code, my guy! Better get that sorted, before your current self comes out of his medically induced coma, invents time travel, and comes to beat you up.

Also, Pious Maximus? What is your friggin’ DEAL, bro? What the actual hell is your deal?

All the K-Cons start falling out of the sky, and Magnus orders everyone to take cover, as a familiar-looking bomb that literally has his name written on it lands bang on target. It’s such an intense experience, his hands start spasming.

Later still, Magnus is in the middle of dealing with the Simanzi Massacre, and it looks like his visor’s seen better days. Hopefully it was a reading pair, and not something he actually needed to see. Rotorstorm is also there, because his character apparently only exists to suffer. Magnus and his team rise from the muck and the mire, coming ashore right on top of a Cybernought, which promptly fries Magnus with its hand lasers. He gets so crispy, his hands start spasming.

For anyone having trouble parsing the scraps of rended metal that used to be Rewind of Lower Petrohex here, allow me a moment to break him down. That cylinder in the lower left corner is his camera, the wire coming off of it is where it plugged into his head, and that squarish chunk with the clean, round hole in it is probably part of his helmet. The other chunky bits I couldn’t tell you what they are, but I think it’s pretty safe to say that Chromedome absolutely put the dog to sleep with that blast last issue.

Inside the Lost Light, Swerve’s trying to be a nice guy by putting on some tunes for Ultra Magnus, who got his spark shot by Overlord last issue, but all it’s really done is make Ratchet get distracted.

Magnus is in a bad way, as was established by First Aid last issue, and it doesn’t seem like Ratchet’s having any more luck than had been predicted. Swerve’s here for emotional support, and also because he’s got medical training. Tailgate’s here for cleanup duty. Drift’s off in the corner making snide remarks about the medical equipment, probably because he’s mad his legs are still off.

Drift looks like he’s been chiseled out of stone here, and I kind of love it. Forget softboi uwu Dwift, I want more of this guy who’ll bite into a teddybear cactus and not even flinch.

Agustin Padilla’s back on the scene for this issue, and he’s decided that everyone’s going to be elongated in as many ways as he can manage in 20 pages. Tailgate and Swerve? Tallest they’ll ever be in the series. They’re as tall as Cyclonus, and he’s a fucking space jet. Someone’s got a chevron? You better believe that thing’s scraping the gotdang ceiling. Drift’s kitty-cat ears almost never fit into the panel, because those suckers are LONG today. It’s like they’ve all been put through a taffy-puller. There are a lot of little quirks with this art, but this is one I can kind of get behind, if only because it’s so distinctive.

Getting back to the story, Drift’s talking about the Death Clock here- no, not the animated band from Adult Swim, but an actual medical device that can calculate the moment a shrinking spark will give out, down to the second. It only measures the lifespans of the terminally ill, so Swerve hasn’t accidentally given himself even more depression by sticking his little hands in the shiny light without a thought as to what the device he’s messing with might do.

Ultra Magnus has about ten days to live. This makes Tailgate incredibly upset, because he, unlike everyone else on the ship, hasn’t experienced the horrors of war and death.

Ratchet’s right, though. There’s certainly a chance that Tailgate, who’s been shown to react to stressful situations by having panic attacks to the point of blacking out, could have a very severe response to what is his first major catastrophe. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder usually isn’t an immediate development, but being proactive about your mental health is never a bad thing if you can swing it. Hell, with how bad the Overlord situation was, I wouldn’t be surprised if Rung was booked solid long enough for Tailgate to actually have time to develop PTSD.

Rodimus is on the intercom to address the situation that just took place, because man oh man, was it a doozy. He intends to hold an inquiry to figure out just what the hell happened and how Overlord got on the Lost Light to begin with. As he tells everyone what’s going to happen, our focus shifts to Chromedome, who’s standing on the outside of the ship, staring off into space.

Man, I hope Chromedome’s on the front half, because this is a fucking grim scene to witness.

Skids comes out, having been looking for Chromedome. Trailcutter of all people pointed him in the right direction- which I suppose makes sense, given that he was on the Ethics Committee on Kimia. He probably would know Chromedome and Rewind decently well by this point.

Chromedome turns around to show off his mourning black Autobot badge, freshly photoshopped onto his chest for our viewing pleasure. It’s especially blatant when contrasting with Padilla’s rougher linework style.

Skids asks our brand-new widower how he’s holding up, and Chromedome says he’s fine, which is funny, because the other day he was all:

Chromedome has a moment of reminiscing, playing connect-the-dots with the stars like he and Rewind used to do all the time.

Skids, they were married for 250,000 years.

Skids might actually have been one of the worse people to have found Chromedome, if this is what he’s going to say, and then immediately leave. He’s so awkward and clearly uncomfortable and doesn’t want to be there. Does he feel weird about Chromedome knowing more about him than he himself does? Does Skids not have access to any of his memories related to mourning? Geez, I hope nobody needs him to help them through a difficult emotional time for a good while, because this was painful to watch.

Back inside the ship, Rung’s come over to Rodimus’ room to see what all the crashing and banging is about. It would seem our dear captain’s upset, and has decided to work through his frustrations by destroying his private quarters, perhaps in an attempt to summon the wrath of Ultra Magnus, thus saving him through the power of his own mess-induced rage. Rung comes to sit with Rodimus, I guess giving up his search for Chromedome, and the two of them discuss Magnus. Specifically, they discuss Magnus’ memos, and how much Rodimus despises receiving them, because they make him feel like he’s not doing his job right. He stopped even opening them, they made him feel so bad.

If you subscribe to the headcanon of Rodimus having ADHD, you could potentially read this as being a manifestation of Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. As it is within the story proper, Rung’s decided to ignore this tidbit of information to get at the more pressing issues, like why exactly Rodimus felt the need to wreck his room.

This is about the point where the art for Rodimus becomes roughly 90% spot blacks, and it’s highly suggested that Rung get out while the getting’s good.

Oh, well this is going to be awkward.

Later on, we’re at the funeral. There’s five coffins, though not all of them actually contain a body. Everyone’s here to see their friends off, even Cyclonus, who was invited to the wake by Chromedome himself. Awful nice of him to do that, given their history.

The lineup in the front row is a bunch of chatterboxes, and they prove that very quickly as Swerve, Skids, and Whirl theorize on the contents of Brainstorm’s mysterious briefcase, which is also here at the funeral. Swerve swears himself to the duty of finding out what’s inside, on threat of death should he fail.

A short time skip is had, and Rodimus is revealed to be wearing his ceremonial funeral cape and terrifying vampire arm spikes to this shindig, as he sends Tripodeca, who is surely the most beloved of all Autobots, off with as many kind words as he can muster in the time they have. Everyone says goodbye, and we get to Rewind’s turn. Rodimus has a moment of pause, as Rung gives him the most withering look I believe he will ever produce in the entirety of the run of MTMTE/Lost Light.

Rodimus concedes to giving Rewind the credit for saving everyone from Overlord posthumously, as well as Fortress Maximus and Chromedome, labelling himself as a failure on that front. Chromedome comes up to the podium for a few words on the love of his life.

…well, it’s been a long day for everyone, I suppose.

Chromedome sits back down, right next to Brainstorm because they’re besties, as Brainstorm stares him down like he knows something Chromedome doesn’t.

Probably because he does.

After the funeral, Brainstorm pays Chromedome a visit, finding him in the middle of spring cleaning. He’s taking all of Rewind’s stuff and shoving it in a box to be destroyed.

Does it count as foreshadowing if it’s like a page before the reveal? I guess so.

Chromedome is trying to ease Brainstorm’s mind about the inquiry Rodimus is conducting, saying that the guy ought to talk to Drift before he gets TOO antsy about spilling the beans- perhaps a touch too late there, Domey- but Brainstorm isn’t here for any of that.

So you’re saying Chromedome/Dominus isn’t going to be endgame.

Turns out Chromedome’s been collecting dead spouses, and he wasn’t even aware of it. When faced with this inherent truth about his personal relationship with grief, Chromedome only has this to say:

Time for a pop quiz!

When the burden of life is too much to bear, what is an addict most likely to do? Is it:

A) Quit cold turkey

B) Seek help for their addiction

C) Relapse

If you answered C, you get a gold star, and a harsh reminder that addiction is a fucking monster that will devour your life and meaningful relationships, leaving you with nothing but itself for company.

Chromedome has had a problem with injecting since he got good enough at it to get his own set of finger needles, and he’s been completely dependent on other people to get himself to even close to stopping the habit. His character bio on the crew roster page has, up until this point, outright claimed this.

Now Rewind’s gone, and there’s really nothing stopping him from just taking that pain away. Brainstorm certainly can’t do it, though not for lack of trying.

Chromedome says that he won’t go through with his plan, but Brainstorm knows he’s lying, because they’ve done this song and dance before. At this point, asking Chromedome to not inject is just a courtesy to the deceased.

No wonder Chromedome invited Cyclonus to the funeral- probably figured why the hell not, since he wouldn’t remember it anyway.

Brainstorm gives Chromedome a data slug- the last one Rewind ever made, shot through the door just before it sliced Chromedome’s arm off, and found by Fort Max. Brainstorm leaves, probably to go prepare himself for that awful, hollow feeling he’ll be getting the next time he sees Chromedome.

Over in the shuttle bay, Rodimus is addressing the crew, Chromedome is retconned into being Toxin because he’s not supposed to be in this scene, and Drift is named as the sole conspirator in the Overlord debacle. Rodimus just starts tearing into Drift, and while he does, we cut over to the medibay, where some zombie nonsense is going on.

Golly, seems like there’s some flavor of undead on the Lost Light every other week, doesn’t it?

Rodimus strips Drift of his Autobot badge and tells him to get the fuck out.

Back at Chromedome’s room, he’s decided to take a gander at what Rewind left behind, plugging the data slug into the computer.

Man, this part always makes me a little weepy.

I can’t do Rewind’s final message justice, not in the choppy format I present here- which is perhaps a bit ironic, given the nature of how it’s presented. In the final moments he had, Rewind pieced together a plea for Chromedome to love himself, and to remember that he was- and still is- loved. He shared his own fears of them being apart, and how he knows how hard the coming days will be. He begged Chromedome to be kind to himself, because he- whether he believes it or not- has grown from the person he was in the New Institute.

As this message plays out, we see Drift swarmed by furious Autobots, who get violent as he makes his way off the Lost Light, only to be helped back to his feet by none other than Ratchet, before climbing into a shuttle, surely never to be seen again.

Shane McCarthy slipped Roberts a twenty to set up a slowburn between his OC and Ratchet all the way back in MTMTE #4. This is the start of the pining portion of their relationship.

God, just- there’s a reason Roberts has claimed this issue as one of his best, and it’s this fucking message. Please, if you somehow have gotten to this post without reading the comics- well, first, how, and second- go and READ THEM. I promise it’s worth it, they’re beautiful and funny and full of heart, even when everyone’s being a dick to each other.

Rewind leaves Chromedome with one final piece, which probably didn’t feel like enough, but was all he could manage in the time he had left.

I’m basically legally obligated to post this panel.

Let’s take a moment to consider Rewind as a character. He’s an archivist, and one who’s gotten very good at his job over the millennia. The guy’s OBSESSED with history, and recording as much of it as possible.

Which stands to reason that he knew about Chromedome’s past conjunx endurae. I mean, why wouldn’t he? It would be public record- even if you don’t necessarily get a marriage license on Cybertron, Chromedome would have been on the paperwork with these other guys somewhere, and the fact that he wouldn’t be able to answer the question of “Who’s this guy you lived with for several thousand years?” Would imply some… rather unfortunate things.

Rewind also has a hard time letting go of things- he gets jealous of Chromedome’s past relationship with Prowl any time it’s brought up, and he’s still looking for his ex-husband after what’s probably been at least a million years. That, combined with the way Rewind lives his life- you know, recording every single moment of it- gives me the impression that he really, really wouldn’t enjoy the idea of being forgotten. He wants Chromedome to stop injecting because it’ll kill him, of course he does, but he also wouldn’t want to be erased.

The video cuts off, leaving Chromedome alone. It’s all up to him now, whether Rewind gets to stay in his heart now.

Chromedome/Dominus is still on the table.

With THAT crisis of love dealt with, we move back on to that weird zombie nonsense we saw a little bit ago. Ultra Magnus is missing. Odd, that.

Ratchet, how many times are your patients going to have to disappear from your medibay before it’s less of a “them” problem, and more of a “you” problem?

As Ratchet goes off to search the rest of the ward, Tailgate accidentally bumps into the death clock, which gives him a nasty little surprise: apparently he’s only got three days to live.

Yeah, this is the point where the comic kicks into overdrive, plotwise- there are no brakes on this train anymore.

[lovemesomesurveys]

[-infatuatedgirl]

Hey, what’s your name? Stephanie.

How old were you when you got your first cell phone? Weren’t you just tingling with excitement? I was 16. I wouldn’t say that, but it was cool. I’m old, so it wasn’t a smartphone yet.

Do you ever read the results of the surveys you make? I don’t make surveys.

How many belts do you own? Zero.

If you had to live with one pair of shoes, what would they be? My Adidas.

Do you believe in love at first sight? No.

How about forevers? It happens.

What’s your comfort food? Lately, it’s actually been ice cream, which is weird cause I wasn’t ever a big ice cream person before.

What do you use your cell phone for, aside texting and calls? Ha, I hardly use it for those reasons. I use it for the apps more than anything.

Are there any picture frames in the room you are in? Yes.

Did you ever ride a limo? Yeah, several times. My dad used to work for a limo company when I was a kid, it was cool.

Do you use a lot of hair products? Not at all, just shampoo and detangler.

Creepiest movie ever? Hmm. Not sure which movie I’d give that title to.

Do you ever wonder what your life looks like to someone else’s eyes? Gah, I don’t want to know.

Have you ever walked into a crowded room and felt so alone? I do often feel alone even though I’m rarely completely by myself.

What’s your current status in facebook/myspace? I shared some random meme thing earlier. I like never post actual statuses anymore, I just share stuff now and then.

What was your dream job as a child? I wanted to be a teacher.

Is it still the same? No.

Did you ever stay up all night? Fun, right? As a kid? Yeah. Especially when my cousins slept over. We’d try to stay up with junk food and soda and watch movies, play games, etc and see who could stay up the latest. Ever took a Bzoinkoid? I don’t know what that is.

Do you like cracking your knuckles? Sometimes it just needs to be done.

What color’s your car? I don’t have a car, I don’t drive.

If you don’t have one, what color would you like it to be? I’m not sure.

Did you ever do something you promised yourself not to? Didn’t it feel good? I have and some of the things did and some I regretted.

What’s the ‘craziest’ color you dyed your hair? Red was my first bold color I did.

What’s your definition of fearless? Having no fear? ha.

Don’t you get a bit happy when you take an iPod shuffle survey and the song fits perfectly? I don’t like those type of surveys, actually.

Do you like paranormal stuff?(shows,movies,books,etc) Nah.

Do you believe in those? No.

What’s the weirdest compliment you ever received? Did you even take it as a compliment? “You’re pretty for having polio.” I’ll never forget some random woman coming up and saying that to me. Like what does that even mean? I don’t have polio and I don’t know why she assumed I did apart from the fact I’m in a wheelchair? Also, does that imply people with polio aren’t usually attractive according to them?

Do you have a favorite stuff toy? What’s it’s name? My shitload of stuffed animal giraffes. What’s the most exciting project you were given? Hmm.

Are you familiar with Polyvore? If so, do you have an account? No.

Did you accomplish your New Years Resolutions last year? I stopped making those several years ago.

What are you passionate about? Nothing. :/

Without passion we’d truly be dead. Fact or fiction? I haven’t felt passionate about something in a long time and it does feel like I’m really missing something. Like, I think you should have something  you’re passionate about, it’s fulfilling. 

Are you guilty of internet slang? I use the ones like, “omg”, “wtf”, and “lol”, but otherwise I’m very much about being grammatically correct.

Would you rather be hurt physically or emotionally? I would rather just not be hurt at all - how about that?! <<< Right, like wtf.

Were you ever truly and completely happy with yourself? No.

Is your life balanced right now? No.

Did you ever roll down a ramp or hill? Countless ramps as someone in a wheelchair.

If you can’t be with the one you love, will you be with the one who loves you? I don’t want to just settle.

What’s your favorite scent? I have a lot.

Are/were you forced to believe something you don’t? When I was a kid both sets of grandparents tried pushing their religious beliefs on me.

Are you very dependent on people? I’ve had to be very dependent the past couple months now due to health setbacks.                                                                                       

Do you let small things ruin your day? Ugh, I do let stuff like that get to me way too much and too easily these days. Like every little thing.

Do you over-analyze things? Yepppp.                                      

Did you ever wonder what life would be in a stranded island? It would be depressing and lonely. Also, probably terrifying. <<< Yeah, not something I’d want to experience that’s for sure.

Do you have a good sense of direction? Nooo. I’m the worst.

What’s your opinion on Kesha? I liked some of her songs.

Are you excited for what the future holds for you? I’m scared of what the future holds for me to be honest.

Are you more of a listener or a talker? I’m definitely more of a listener than a talker.

Indoorsy or outdorsy? Indoorsy for sure.

Name something that you think is overrated. Bacon and sushi. It seems like literally everyone loves both and I don’t get it. 

How about underrated? Hmm.

What’s one question you HATE being asked? Hmm.

Is it personal or it just bugs you? --

Do you own any comic books? Nope.

Or you’re more of an anime/manga person? I’m not into those either.

Do you have any weird phobias? If so, what? Ugh, I don’t even want to type the words but the fear of holes and clusters lsjlskfklsdjflkdsjfdlsk

Were you ever obsessed with something then realized how lame it really was? Twilight. :X

If you had a time machine would you visit the past or future? The past.

Or is the present too good for you? No, definitely not. What would you change in that time zone? In the past? I’d change some things that would make it so I wasn’t dealing with some of the health stuff I’m going through now. Some of it could have been so easily avoided and managed, but I was stubborn, irresponsible, and negligent.

What’s the title of the first survey you created? I’ve only made one survey, many years ago, and I don’t think I titled it.

What color is your iPod/mp3? I have a black iPod Touch, but it’s been stored away and unused since 2012. I use Spotify on my phone for music, which is gold.

Do you think you could live without music? I’ve hardly listened to music at all this year so far and I’m still alive.

Describe your favorite top. I love all my graphic tees.

Do you change your style frequently? No. Especially not now. I just live in leggings and graphic tees.

Are you a tshirt-and-jeans kind of person? No, I’m a leggings and graphic tees kind of person.

What’s the most traumatizing event that ever happened to you? The one that made me a paraplegic. 

Do you own a diary/journal? This is it.

Do you write there often? I definitely do.

Don’t you hate it when there’s nothing good showing on TV? I got into this routine the past few months and have my lineup of shows.

Insert your favorite smiley here: :) 

How many live concerts have you been to? Like 6 or 7.

Did you keep the tickets as a souvenir? Yeah.

Tinypic or Photobucket? Aw, the days of Tinypic and Photobucket. I’m sad because I have a shit ton of photos saved on Photobucket and I can’t access my account. D: Like, I’m talkin’ photos from Myspace days. 

Tumblr or Xanga? Well, it’s just Tumblr now... <<< I really do like Tumblr, but I also miss Xanga. The survey community was huge.

What do you do when you’re really nervous? Fidget, squirm, pick at my nails, bite/pick my lips, mess with my hair, twiddle with my hands, jump to worst case scenarios...

Do you have a bad habit you just can’t break? Picking at my lips, nails, and skin. :/

Would you say you’re down to earth? I think so.

What’s the first thing you see when you look at yourself in the mirror? I really try to avoid that as much as possible cause I hate what I see.

Do you find peace in being alone? I haven’t felt peace in a very long time.

Summer holds such wonderful things. Fact or fiction? Fiction. I could just skip right on by it to be honest.

Ah,summer (: What’s your favorite thing about it? The only thing I like is if I’m able to go to the beach. If I had a beach house with private beach access and didn’t feel miserable for months, then I wouldn’t mind summertime. 

Are you faint to the sight of blood? Just the mention of it makes me feel weak.

What’s something you’ve grown used to? I feel like this is how it’s always going to be... :/

What’s your favorite dessert? Lately, I’ve been really into ice cream. I was not a big ice cream person before, like until recently it had been a few years since I had any at all. Suddenly, I’m all about it. *shrug*

Do you like spicy food? I loved spicy food, but I can’t have it anymore. :(

Are you easily bored? I didn’t used to be. I think my boredom is actually the depression, though.

Do you wish for the same thing at 11:11? Or does it change depending on how things are going in your life? I don’t do that.

Do you even wish at 11:11? Nope.

[purplesurveys]

1105

surveys by seachaange

What do you do when someone is talking to you about something you don't care about? I listen and try to ask questions or add my own input so that they can see that even though I personally don’t care about the thing they’re talking about, I’m invested in them.

What is the best pizza place in your neighbourhood? Erm, we don’t really have a lot of independent pizza joints, actually. Most of the ones I see are chain restaurants like Pizza Hut and Domino’s. The best pizza I’ve had is from Vu’s at Marco Polo, but it’s been a whileeeee since I’ve had their food. Mama Lou’s pizza is also good.

Do you have Photoshop installed on your computer? I do but I only had it installed for school. I have no personal interest to learn it.

Are there any teachers you have that you are close with? I wouldn’t say that. I’m kinda chummy with one of my English teachers from high school - like he knew about me and Gab and supported us, I show my support for his art, we greet each other every now and then, etc - but we’re not ‘close.’

Do you have friends that play field hockey? No.

What about soccer? Not friends but I do know a number people who play football, yeah.

Do you think homosexuals are leading a bad lifestyle? This question aged like milk, didn’t it...

What do you think of the iPad? I remember when it blew up like crazy. It was such a revolutionary thing back when it was new, so much so that my dad even felt the need to buy one. It was fun when the hype lasted; but nowadays I don’t know people who would still seek out an iPad other than artists and law/med students, lmfao.

Do you put lotion on after you get out of the shower? I don’t.

Do you have any concerts on dvd? A lot, but they’re of concerts from a time when DVDs were still a thing. I haven’t had a new DVD in around 7-8 years.

Do you still have a VHS player? I think my parents have thrown theirs out already.

Has anyone ever given you a promise ring? No.

Do you send postcards to people when you go on vacation? I don’t. But aw, this made me remember when Jo did a summer exchange program in London and she sent postcards to Aya in the few months that she had been away. I thought that was sweet.

What do you think is the most comfortable shoe? Out of the pairs I have, my Onitsuka Tiger shoes for sure.

Have you seen Lady Gaga's music video for Telephone? That was suuuuuuch a big deal when it came out. Yes, I definitely have and I must’ve watched it a thousand times. Also rude, Beyoncé was in there too lol

If so, what do you think of it? It was so creative and a lot of fun to watch, especially for 2009 when artists weren’t exactly daring with music video concepts yet. I can’t believe they never collaborated again since.

What do you think of the septum piercing? It’s great.

Do you frequently skip class? Depends on my interest in the class/the professor, OR how tired I am that week. I skipped my psychology elective a lot because I didn’t think the instructor was all that great; and as much as I loved every single one of my history classes, there were a few sessions I voluntarily had to skip because I wasn’t doing mentally well. It really depends.

--

When you're really thirsty, what do you enjoy drinking most? Water. Anything else wouldn’t be able to quench my thirst as well.

What do you find inspirational in the world? I think it differs based on what I need to see at a given time, I guess. At this point in my life, I like hearing from people who have risen from their trust and abandonment issues, because it’s what I’ve been going through as well. I probably never would’ve found something like that inspirational, say, 6 months ago, so it really depends.

When hanging out with your bf or gf, what do you like doing most? I’m a very ‘let’s spend time in silence’ type of person. I cherished it the most when my ex and I would go to a coffee shop and work for hours, in complete and comfortable silence; or when I would be driving and no words would be exchanged for nearly the entire ride. Even though I stay quiet, in those moments I’m actually very happy. Of course new experiences are great too, but I personally enjoy the conventional ‘boring’ stuff the most when with a partner.

What do/did you think of your high school? Teeming with homophobia, bigotry, and just your typical Catholic gatekeepy judgmental environment. I look back at high school fondly because of the friends I made, not because of the toxic environment they nurtured in there.

What is the dirtiest rap song you have ever heard? I don’t listen to a lot of rap. But as an 11 year old listening to Nicki Minaj’s Itty Bitty Piggy, I was immediately traumatized lmao. I still can’t listen to that song.

What about a dirty song in any other genre? Uhhhhhhhhh probably Drunk in Love?? Lmaoooo I’d die for Beyoncé a million times but I always skip that song. My asexual ass just can’t deal.

What is a genre of music you simply can't stand? One of them is techno.

What is, in your opinion, the best way of dealing with a break up? Being kind to yourself.

What flavour of Doritos do you like best? I’ve only ever tried the nacho cheese flavor, but I love that one.

Where do you do your grocery shopping? I don’t do the grocery shopping in the family but my parents usually do it at SM or at this local store we have nearby.

Would you ever go to a comedy club? Yes, with a friend so I’d be more comfortable.

Do you think Victoria's Secret is overpriced? I haven’t been in one of their stores in a while, so I can’t really say.

Do you still have a VHS player? Again, I don’t think so.

Do you have a tumblr? :))))))

Why is it that photography is becoming a trend? So this survey was made in 2010 and I can definitely confirm it was a crazy huge trend lol. Even I got into it and asked my parents to get me a DSLR back then. Anyway, I think it was because during this time, DSLRs had been slowly becoming a thing? and they were kiiiiiiiinda cheap - at least cheap enough to be accessible to a large amount of people - so it allowed people to play with different styles that were very unfamiliar at the time, like light painting, fisheye, close-ups, etc. And then at one point everyone had DSLRs and it just wasn’t as enjoyable anymore because everyone was doing the same kinds of trendy shots lol.

What is the funniest movie you have ever seen? I’m gonna go with The Proposal - Sandra Bullock was gold in that movie.

Did you watch American Idol this past season? No. Do they still air new seasons of that?? I stopped watching when the same guitar-playing, country-singing white men kept winning.

If so, how did you feel about the winner? It’s been more than a decade since I last cared for the show.

Don't you hate it when one of your earbuds stops working? Sure.

Do you have a normal landline, or do you use MagicJack? Holy shit I have not heard of MagicJack in a goddamn WHILE lmao, what a throwback. We had one, I’m pretty sure...but I never knew what it was for.

Do you even use a house phone anymore? Landlines are still common in the Philippines. Are they not in other countries? Hahahaha.

Would you ever consider dating someone who lived across the country? If I loved, trusted, and was committed to them enough, yes.

What was the most expensive restaurant you've ever eaten at? I wasn’t able to track the name but I’m pretty sure it was the fine dining restaurant in our cruise trip that my parents treated me to for my birthday.

Do/did you take foods classes in high school? My school didn’t offer such a class, but we had home economics and we were occasionally taught how to cook and bake certain dishes.

Do you have a tattoo? No, not yet.

If you do, describe the pain you went thru when getting it done. Eugh this is what I’m scared of :((((

Do you enjoy making hemp necklaces and bracelets? I’ve never tried.

Have you ever watched the show Strangers With Candy? I’ve never even heard of it before, I’m sure.

What is your favourite bookstore? Fully Booked, because their collection is expansive, always complete, and they let you take a book of the shelves and read it if you’d like.

Have you ever used torrents? Mostly throughout high school. I did use a torrent to download Midsommar recently, though.

How can we tell if you are in a bad mood? I go quiet.

How are you when you're in a really good mood? Complete opposite - I will be bubbly and chatty, especially in instances when I’m not really expected to be.

Are you nice to everyone, even people you don't like? Yes.

When you're bored in class, what do you do? I seldom found myself bored in class because I’m constantly furiously taking notes. But if the prof themselves are very boring and there’s nothing to take notes about, I go ahead and check my social media either from my phone or laptop.

--

Would you rather go to Lollapalooza, Warped Tour, or Bonnaroo? As a teenager, I had always wanted to go to Warped Tour. As I’ve gotten older, though, the lineups for Lollapalooza have appealed to me more. Plus it’s in Chicago, soooooo a million more brownie points for that.

Do you have anything that is autographed? By who? Yeah, I have an autographed poster of AJ Lee. It was my most prized possession and I even placed it on a big picture frame and had it up on my wall for yearsssssssss, and then my mom had to take it down because of course it’s my mom and of course she had to do it.

Can you sleep when it's really hot? Welcome to summer months in the Philippines.

Do you know anyone who works at McDonald's? I think Carley does, but idk if that’s changed in the last few months. I don’t stay updated about her life, haven’t been for years.

Do you have a debit card? Yes.

What bank do you (or your family) use? I am not sharing that lol.

Would you ever hitchhike? I think I’m mostly open to it, though I will say I’ve read enough stories about murders that involve hitchhiking that make me a little scared of the idea, hahah.

Have you ever been kayaking? We did a boat thing in Palawan a few years ago but I’m not sure if that was kayaking or canoeing. Anywho, the experience was breathtaking.

Do you have a problem with swimming in a pond or lake? In the context of my country, yeah, because our natural bodies of water aren’t exactly...the cleanest, lmao. I’d feel much more comfortable swimming in a private beach.

Does anyone in your family go hunting or fishing? Nope. But maybe some of my relatives living in the US do?? Idk for sure.

What do/did you do when someone you barely knew asks you to sign their yearbook? We don’t really practice that. Only the really expensive, bougie, international schools here that have foreign students to begin with do that, I think.

In high school are you/were you in the plays and musicals? No.

Do you have a birdbath in your yard? No, we don’t.

Is the house you live in old or new? It’s fairly new; we had it first built in 2005 and we officially moved in 2008.

Where do you go when you need a new pair of sneakers? Depends on what brand I’m in the mood to buy.

Do you make New Year's Resolutions, or do you not even bother? I typically don’t.

Most annoying commercial? Haven’t been paying attention to them lately.

What does your favourite bathing suit look like? It’s just a simple black bikini but its overall shape and design is super cute and chic.

Do you like Silly Bandz? No.

If you do, how many do you have and what are your favourite shapes?

What do you think of My Super Sweet 16? I never watched it because I feel like I’d only get stressed if I did.

Do you have mini-blinds in your house? I have pull-down window shades in my room, not blinds.

Do you rent your home or do you own it? My parents own it.

What is your favourite song right now? Trigger by Hayley Williams.

Do you use Firefox? Nope.

Do you have a pool in your backyard? We don’t.

Do you have a gym membership? No.

Favourite field trip you've ever been on? Freshman year of high school when we went to two museums :)

[captain-jinguji]

Hi, me again) ! Guess you're all prepped for upcoming ivent? May i ask some fluff about Reiji and s/o with bad eyesight (myopia), sth like watching a late-night film together, and Reiji's reading aloud all the inscriptions and subtitles scenes for his s/o tired of wearing glasses (or anything else you can imagine)? By the was, what kind of song list are you waiting from the ivent? Lots of love 🧡

YES YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT I AM SUPER PREPPED FOR THE EVENT!!! okay here is what I WISH the song lineup would be 😂

1.) Dear... Burning my lady

2.) Double wish

3.) Dream More than Love

4.) Maji Love 2000%

5.) Mellowx2Chu

6.) My Little Little Girl (since Tokiya gets a solo song)

7.) FREEDOM

I WISH THAT THIS IS THE LINEUP BUT AS LONG AS DEAR BURNING MY LADY IS IN IT IM GUCCI !!!

Subtitles (REIJI KOTOBUKI x READER)

Reiji admired your willingness to wear glasses every day because quite honestly, every time he had to wear glasses for a shoot or something, he hated it. BUT of course, you needed them to actually see; he didn't. Still, if he needed them, he'd probably just not wear them and rely on Ranmaru. So, to make your life a little easier, every time you're with him, he makes sure you leave those bothersome things at home and just hold onto him. Going downtown? Lets hold hands while we cross the street. What was that? You want to pet the dog but you cant really make out where he is? Let him guide you. He just loves the feeling of being needed and you relying on him a little bit.

But what's even better was when you guys were sitting and watching TV. Whether it be a show or a movie, he ALWAYS asks if you're gonna wear your glasses or if he should read the subs. Most of the time he reads the subtitles anyways because you once told him how much you loved hearing his voice and Reiji took that to heart, "Awe, (Y/N),... I guess I will just have to keep talking, ne?" And he does. He loves talking to you too; there's never a dull moment with you and Reiji and QUARTET NIGHT has mentioned many a times how freaking annoyingly cute you guys are. Reiji just laughs and comments how they're just jealous.

Tonight, Reiji chose the movie. He really wanted to watch Grown Ups again, because the movie is literally him. A man child. But it always makes you laugh and damn him if that's not the most beautiful laugh he has ever heard in his whole entire life. "Come close, my girl, i got popcorn and a comfy shoulder to lean on!" You giggled at him but complied, putting your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arm around his waist, "no glasses tonight, Reiji... Will you read to me?" You asked and he kissed your head softly, putting the subtitles on, "of course, my girl." And then the movie started. He made sure to change up his voice for each character and even read the sound effects. And if he didn't make the most amazing arrow shooting noises youve ever heard in your life, you didnt know what was.

"In life? The first act, always exciting! The second act? That's where the depth comes in.." Reiji spoke softly, a rare, serious side coming out in him and he turned to you, "I wouldn't want to go into the second act with anyone else, (Y/N)...." He whispered and your tired eyes looked up at him, a soft shade of pink grazing your cheeks. Yep, movie nights were your favorites.

[theliterateape]

Hell in a Handbasket

By David Himmel

SHE TAKES ONE LAST LONG DRAG FROM HER CIGARETTE. She pushes the smoke past her gleaming teeth and full lips and crushes the thing beneath her boot. Her black coffee has finally cooled to a barely drinkable temperature. She takes a sip as she enters the radio station. Another fucking morning show. This one in San Francisco. It’s still dark out and, between the cigarette and the coffee and all of the whiskey she drank last night, she has the worst morning breath in recorded human history.

She didn’t have time to brush her teeth. She overslept and was rushed out of her hotel room by Gavin the tour manager. The clothes she had worn at last night’s show were strewn across the floor. Gavin threw the jeans and Superman t-shirt at her as she struggled to get her naked body out of bed. She didn’t have to fuss with makeup or her hair; she looks the same at five in the morning in the grips of a hangover as she does at eleven at night when she’s in the grips of stage lights and adoring fans.

Way back before she was famous and had dreams of being interviewed by radio deejays, it didn’t matter what you looked like as much. The listeners couldn’t see you and the deejays looked just barely put together themselves. But today, everything is visual, and if this show is anything like all of the others, they’ll be recording the interview for the radio station’s YouTube page. She hates the beautification and objectification of women in the entertainment industry. However, she sees nothing wrong with not wanting to look like hammered rat shit, which is exactly how she feels. This morning, as she has been most mornings this past year, she’s self-aware enough to be thankful for her easy-to-manage looks.

Gavin makes the introductions in the studio. She smiles her big, brilliant smile—the one that makes men and women fall in love with her—and begins to charm the three morning show hosts.

“Good morning. I’m really happy to be here,” she says into the microphone. Her mouth is dry and it tastes like a circus floor. She reaches for the bottle of water one of the hosts handed her when she walked in. She thinks she should have had a piece of gum instead of that cigarette.

“You’re wearing a Superman t-shirt,” the fatter of the hosts says. “Are you a fan of the comics?”

“This isn’t a Superman t-shirt,” she says. “It’s a Supergirl t-shirt.”

“Hear, hear, sister!” says the woman host.

“And yes, I’m a fan of the comics.”

“For those of you just tuning in, we’ve got Jane Hadley in the studio with us this morning,” the thin host says in a well-rehearsed broadcaster’s voice. “If you’re not familiar with Jane Hadley then you’ve likely been in a coma trapped in a mine shaft for the past year. Her debut album, Hell in a Handbasket, is this year’s runaway hit and iTunes’ most downloaded album ever. Right now, Jane Hadley is a bigger deal than Taylor, Adele and Beyoncé.”

“Combined,” Fat Host says.

“And she’s performing a sold-out show at Decker Hall tonight,” Thin Host continues.

“But don’t worry,” Lady Host says, “if you didn’t get tickets for the show, we’ll be giving a pair away a little later on this morning. And I think—Jane, correct me if I’m wrong—that these tickets also include a backstage meet and greet.”

“They do,” Jane says. “I’ve even got my Selfie-Stick for photos.”

“Did you bring that Selfie-Stick with you this morning?” Fat Host asks. “I’d love to get a photo with you. You have to be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen this early in the morning.”

Jane smiles and laughs a hearty laugh that not even the most high-tech lie detector test could determine its authenticity one way or the other. “I didn’t bring it but I’m sure we’ll find a way to take a photo without it.”

“And you’re going to play a few songs for us this morning, too, right?” Lady Host asks.

“I brought my guitar and will even take requests.”

The three hosts celebrate over this surprise. Thin Host says, “You hear that, K–POP listeners? The beautiful and talented, Goddess of Rock Jane Hadley will be taking your requests for a live, in-studio acoustic session! Don’t go anywhere. You’re listening to the Manic Morning Show on 97.1, K–POP.”

Thin Hosts glances at Fat Host who taps a series of buttons on the control board and clicks a wireless mouse linked to the monitors. A station bump plays followed by a commercial break beginning with an ad for a local diamond dealer. The hosts take their headphones off.

“Do people actually listen this early?” Jane asks as she also removes her headphones.

“Not anymore,” Thin Host says.

“We’ll replay everything with you in the eight o’clock hour,” Lady Host says.

This is not how Jane saw her life. For one thing, she never thought she’d be a smoker. But divorce can promote bad habits as diversions from the heartache. And for another thing, she never thought she’d be divorced at thirty-seven years old, though she was only thirty-five when it all happened, which only makes it worse. She is too young to be divorced and too old to only now find herself at rockstar status. Unfortunately, without the divorce, the fame and fortune—and morning radio show interviews—would have continued to elude her.

Before she was Jane Hadley, the rock ’n’ roll singer/songwriter—the Goddess of Rock, bigger than Taylor, Adele, and Beyoncé combined, she was Jane Hadley, the folk ’n’ roll singer/songwriter who never sold more than a thousand albums and a few hundred t-shirts. Before she had a #1 album flying off the shelves and being downloaded to the Cloud by millions, and an entire merchandising department, she was just a girl who played in a few bands: the Stargazers, Rosie’s Dream Catcher, Jane and the Jaded Cowboys.

None of these were good band names and she knew it. But she liked the music they made. Sweet, folky, only as loud as the all-acoustic gear would allow. All her bands looked the same. Jane played rhythm guitar and sang lead. The lead guitar, keyboard, upright bass and percussion were played by men. This wasn’t intentional, it’s just how things played out. They sounded similar, too, although each incarnation sounded more practiced than the last, a byproduct of age and gig experience.

The Stargazers was her high school band. It lasted long enough to play mostly Simon & Garfunkel covers at a few garage shows and the school’s Battle of the Bands. She formed Rosie’s Dream Catcher in college with her then boyfriend, keyboardist Matt. They recorded one CD of ten original songs. They sold all one hundred copies for two bucks a piece by the time the band, and Jane and Matt, split three years later.

She wonders why they are waxing intellectual about Kurt Cobain and the meaning of “Smells Like Teen Spirit?” She just wants to plug tonight’s show, play a few songs, maybe answer a call and give vague, recycled answers about what inspired her to write the album. Instead, she’s bemoaning about the trappings of fame and denying any intention of making an album that will last the test of time. How Gen X of her. How Fiona Apple of her. How awful of her.

Jane always figured that if success in the music business was ever going to come to her it would have been with Jane and the Jaded Cowboys. It took her a little while to become comfortable with her name being segregated from the band name. She didn’t want to be a Diana Ross or Gloria Estefan but Adam, the guitarist, thought they should capitalize on the gender difference and put their radiant leader out front while her boys backed her up. Adam was a marketing major in college and while he was a gifted guitarist, his real talent was in hype.

Jane and the Jaded Cowboys were prolific. Their songwriting was a science. Jane would come to practice with lyrics ripped from her many tattered Moleskin journals and a tune she thought worked with the words. From there, all five would flesh the thing out until they had a nice little folky pop song. They were a good team and their musical tastes and abilities complemented each other well.

With the freedom provided by quarter-life adulthood, they toured a lot in the sixteen years they were together. They earned fans but none who would bleed for them, really. They played the festivals and a few of the storied concert halls spread throughout the country. They headlined some shows and shared the bill with acts that would go on to the kind of fame and success that Jane and the Jaded Cowboys were chasing but never caught up to.

Because being in the band didn’t pay a livable wage, everyone had real jobs. Jane tended bar at Queen Lizzie, a hipster hotspot in Chicago where the drinks are overpriced and the customers happily overpay. She hated the place and the customers but the money was too good to walk away from. She was able to afford the necessities: instruments, rent, food, clothes, tour van, gas money for the tour van and Moleskin journals. She even managed to save a fair amount and really hack away at her student loans. Not that her degree in art history was worth more than the paper the degree was printed on.

The songs she wrote reflected her life. They featured themes of loneliness, desire, road trips and regret. The songs weren’t bad. But they weren’t great either. Their most popular song among their few loyal fans is called “Photographic Art History.” It’s about wasting time and energy. One critic, writing for an online publication about the lineup of a summer festival in Chicago, described Jane and the Jaded Cowboys as, “a band that makes perfect background music for the perfect lazy day of napping.” On the band’s Facebook page, Adam spun the opinion by posting the review and writing, “IndieRock.com says ‘Jane and the Jaded Cowboys makes perfect music for the perfect day!’”

Jane hated the hype. But it was the best her band ever got.

And speaking of hype…

“Rolling Stone called you the voice of women of this generation,” Thin Host says. They are back from commercial break. “That seems like it could come with a lot of responsibility. Do you feel responsible to speak for your generation?”

Since Hell in a Handbasket dropped, many critics had echoed Rolling Stone’s claim. Jane used to see herself as a Joni Mitchell type, or Carole King or Carly Simon. Women from a very different generation. And one that isn’t hers. She isn’t even sure which generation the critics are talking about. At thirty-seven years old, she’s no longer part of the youth culture but she’s too young, still, and new to fame, to be a music veteran. And in the entertainment industry, the young and the old were the major markets. Everyone in the middle is white noise. Jane feels that if she’s the voice of any generation right now, it’s the White Noise Generation. But she can’t say that.

“First of all, it’s an insanely flattering thing to say about someone,” Jane answers. “But it’s also an insanely broad generalization and a little presumptuous. I didn’t make this record to be a statement about women or for all women or anything like that. And if we look at music history, we don’t ever really know how representative a musician was or wasn’t to her generation—or his—until the music has had time to mature and that generation, or whatever, has adapted from it in some way.”

“Well, take Kurt Cobain. In a way, your situation is similar to Cobain’s,” Thin Host says. “He was considered the voice of Generation X right out of the gate. And he was dead before his music and his generation really even had a chance to—what did you call it?—mature. But everyone was right. Kurt Cobain was, and still is considered to be, the voice of his generation.”

“So if you don’t already have a heroin addiction, you better get on that,” Fat Host says.

“No, then she’d just be compared to Courtney Love. And no woman wants to be compared to Courtney Love,” Lady Host says.

“Yikes. God no. That’s even worse than being compared to Yoko Ono,” Jane says.

“There are so many awful women in rock ’n’ roll,” Fat Host says.

“You named two,” Jane says. “The awful men in rock ’n’ roll still outweigh us twenty-to-one.”

“And that’s why she wears that t-shirt,” Lady Host says.

They all have a laugh as Jane glances at the clock on the studio wall. She’s booked for an hour. It’s only been eleven minutes. She wants to go back to sleep. The coffee isn’t working. She considers what it would be like if she did start using heroin. It’s cheaper than booze, cigarettes and even coffee. And on the road, it’s often easier to get.

“Okay, I understand that you’re reluctant to accept your influential role in today’s culture,” Thin Host says.

“It’s not a reluctance,” she says.

“A rejection then,” he says.

“No. I mean, they’re just songs.”

“But don’t you want your songs to mean something? Isn’t that what every artist wants?”

“Sure. In a way. This album means what it means to me. I can’t control what it means to anyone else. It’s nice that it’s been so well received. I’m touched that people are finding their own meanings in the songs.”

“So you’re saying that the song, the first single, ‘Onward,’ isn’t symbolic of the woman’s place in today’s society.”

“I think Hemingway said something about the foolishness of trying to include symbols in your work on purpose,” Jane says.

“So no.”

“‘Onward’ is a song about my ex-husband moving out of our apartment and me, a woman, having to make sense of what he, a man, had left behind. If that is perceived as anything other than that—”

“I understood it as a break-up song,” Lady Host says.

“But things can be perceived by any number of people in any number of ways. That’s the great thing about art. Let me ask you guys a question. Since you brought him up, what does ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ mean to you? What’s that song about?”

“Making trouble,” Thin Host says.

“Cheerleaders,” Fat Host says.

“Disaffected youth,” Lady Host says.

“All I ever think about when I hear that song is deodorant. That song is a deodorant jingle to me. Because when that song came out, I was eleven years old and Teen Spirit was the brand of deodorant I used.”

“Commerce,” Fat Host says. “Cobain is rolling over in his grave.”

“Nah,” Jane says. “He knew damn well what he was doing when he titled that song. He was being funny—Oh crap, can I say the ‘D’ word?”

The hosts laugh. “Yes, ‘damn’ is allowed. ‘Crap,’ is not,” Thin Host says. They laugh some more then he presses on. “Symbols or not, this album is incredible.”

“Thank you.”

“I doubt that you’d call it a concept album.”

“Not in the traditional meaning of concept album, no. I mean, it’s not The Wall. But it was conceived by specific events. There’s a theme.”

“It’s a break up album,” Lady Host says.

“It is indeed a break up album. A break up and all of the, um, crap, that comes with it.”

She knows she sounds like a pedantic blowhard. They are baiting her into it and she is too strung out on exhaustion and weak coffee to resist. She wonders why they are waxing intellectual about Kurt Cobain and the meaning of “Smells Like Teen Spirit?” She just wants to plug tonight’s show, play a few songs, maybe answer a call and give vague, recycled answers about what inspired her to write the album. Instead, she’s bemoaning about the trappings of fame and denying any intention of making an album that will last the test of time. How Gen X of her. How Fiona Apple of her. How awful of her.

But after two weeks of horrendous heartbreak, isolation, and alcoholism, Jane had come to one conclusion: right or not, fuck Keith.

She is saved from falling deeper into these asinine rock critic musings when the hosts go to break again. They’ve cued listeners to call in with questions and requests. The first three callers request “Onward,” to no one’s surprise. Jane pulls her guitar from its case and gives it a gentle tuning. She gets the familiar sinking knot in her stomach as she does.

Her departure from acoustic folk to electric rock was the best way for her to get through the pain of her divorce. It allowed her to turn the deafening sadness into rollicking anger. And every time she plays these songs with an electric guitar and her banging, thrumming, clanging tour band alongside her, she becomes more and more removed from the origin of the source material. She’s healed each night. And in quieter moments in between cities on the bus, when she finds herself descending toward that sadness and regret, she can listen to the album at top volume through her headphones and relive the anger and gravitate toward getting over the goddamn thing.

But there’s no escaping the raw bones of truth when she plays the songs acoustically on radio shows like this. She wanted to bring the band with her and at least have a bigger sound so the songs weren’t so stripped down and she didn’t feel so naked. But her management vetoed it. The fans wanted Jane Hadley naked. And that’s what they were getting. And every time she tunes the guitar to play “Onward,” she is rocketed into a wretched reverie of when she first tuned the guitar to write the song.

Keith had just closed the door of the apartment with his last box of stuff under his arm. It had been the first time they’d seen each other since he asked for a divorce two weeks before and fled to wherever he had been staying. Jane spent those two weeks crying, substituting alcohol and cigarettes for meals, sleeping on the living room floor because she couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping alone in their bed and didn’t feel that she deserved the comfort of the couch. She was emotionally destroyed and she thought it best to destroy herself physically, too.

He said some pretty nasty things when he left. There were accusations of infidelity because she played songs that weren’t about him. He blamed her for his inability to secure a steady and well-paying gig because she was not supportive enough. He called her a manipulator and a user and chastised her for having more friends than he had.

None of these accusations were true and he was clearly taking his own self-loathing out on her. How could someone’s likability make her unlikable? Keith had found a way. The two therapists they had seen every week since getting married eight months before, called it projecting. Keith denied it and Jane believed everything he said.

But after two weeks of horrendous heartbreak, isolation, and alcoholism, Jane had come to one conclusion: right or not, fuck Keith. Watching him leave with a box of his mother’s old stained Tupperware was enough to pull her off of the floor and begin writing music again. “Onward” became Jane’s life’s statement of purpose. And as the first single and the album’s first track, it became the album’s statement of purpose, too. And thus, it became a generation of women’s statement of purpose.

She didn’t even have to write the lyrics down and work them out in her notebook like usual. She just played and sang and it all came together. She scribbled it down once she was done and the song, at first, resembled every other song she had written. Soft, slow, melancholy. She didn’t want that. She wanted something different. Because the same old song hadn’t done her much good for her career or her internal struggle. She didn’t feel soft, slow or melancholy. She felt hard, fast and fucking pissed. She dusted off her electric Gibson and amp and played the song faster and louder. She felt alive again. She felt angry. She felt inspired.

She lit a cigarette and played it again. She recorded it and upon listening back, she heard a voice she didn’t recognize but loved. The chorus made her smile, even though it felt strange on her face.

You took my love And let it burn Scorched and ashen I move onward

✶

SHE MET KEITH LESTINGHOUSE AT A SHOW IN PEORIA, ILLINOIS. He was a videographer and had been hired to document the headlining band, the Dandelions, who a year later would win the Grammy Award for Best New Artist. Keith’s art direction in the documentary was lauded for its grit, the way it “captured the essence of budding rock ’n’ roll success,” according to some well-respected blogger somewhere online.

She found Keith smart and funny, and thought his patchy beard and thin, lanky body made him handsome. He seemed to genuinely like Jane’s music and her band. And he seemed to like her. By the end of their first date, they realized that they had been a match on each other’s online dating profiles.

“Why didn’t you ever send me a message?” she asked him.

“Why didn’t you ever send me one?” he replied.

He was a feminist and she liked that about him, too.

Six months in, they were engaged. Two months after that, they were married. It was a small ceremony held in her parents’ barn at their farm in Dowagiac, Michigan. She wore cowboy boots with her consignment wedding dress, he wore black Chuck Taylor sneakers with his new suit from an online custom clothier. An hour before the wedding, Jane cried all of her makeup away when Keith requested that her father not walk her down the aisle. Well, he didn’t have any family at the wedding, therefore, her father’s obvious presence was her way of rubbing it in that he was an estranged son. Jane conceded. Then Keith decided that it was okay for her dad to walk her down the aisle after all. This was the first crack in the façade of perfection Jane had placed Keith behind. Then, at the reception, Jane and the Jaded Cowboys played a song she wrote just for Keith, just for their wedding. Drunk, he mistook it for a song about some other guy and stormed off into the Dowagiac fields. Jane—the consummate professional—finished the song then ran into the fields after her husband. When she found him, he continued accusing her of infidelity until she managed to convince him otherwise and they screwed right there in rows of soybeans.

He moved into her place. His video equipment crowded and nearly ousted her music equipment. Space in the small Chicago apartment was the crux of their Cold War—Keith acting like Reagan with his finger constantly on he Button and Jane acting as Gorbachev, desperate for some kind of peaceful and reasonable resolution.

Two weeks later, they were in therapy. The only discussion they could have without Keith’s demanding a therapist’s intervention was about what they’d have for dinner. It helped that Keith’s veganism limited their dining options. Keith was a volunteer for Greenpeace and convinced Jane to sell her 1967 Pontiac GTO. It was left to her in her grandfather’s will. It was her grandfather who taught her to play guitar and encouraged her to pursue a career in music. He was a sound tech for bands like the Byrds, Leslie Gore, the Lovin’ Spoonful and even the Beatles once. Anywhere she had to be, Keith told her, she could ride a bike, walk, run or use public transportation, if she must. And that inspired the second song on the album, “Red Meat Wishes and Gasoline Car Dreams.”

You’re sidewalk stalking Good people on God’s green earth I honk and rev my motor And slide back a Quarter Pounder

Still, Jane loved him. But what Jane loved more than Keith was love itself. Though she was never far from her friends or family and had an incredible bond and unwavering trust with her bandmates, Jane feared being alone. Alone in that romantic sense. It was that fear that empowered her to stay with Keith, which left her otherwise powerless. And that’s where “Distracted by Loneliness,” the album’s third song, came from.

Covered in hearts Well wishes from friends and family Their undying love can’t compare to the misery you give to me I’d rather be lonely with you than never alone again

✶

WHEN THEY RETURN FROM THE BREAK, JANE PLAYS “ONWARD.” Fat Host cues up another recorded caller and the conversation they had with her during the break.

“Hi, Jane. I’m Claire. I think you are so talented.”

“Hi, Claire. Thank you.”

“I just broke up with my boyfriend of three years.”

“This ought to be good,” Fat Host says.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Claire,” Jane says.

“No, please, it’s for the best. I was miserable. We both were. Your album inspired me to leave him. Funny thing was, it was his record. He bought the album.”

“Men love her, too,” Thin Host says. “Is there a song you’d like Jane Hadley to play?”

“I’d love to hear ‘Two Week’s Notice,’” says Claire. “I quit my job last week, too. This song inspired me to do that.”

“This song isn’t about quitting a job,” Jane says. “It’s about the abortion I had.” The studio goes quiet—never a good thing in radio. Jane recognizes the silence and quickly readjusts her response. “But, uh, sure thing, Claire. Let me know if you need a reference or anything.”

The recording ends and Lady Host throws her finger at Jane like a stage manager would on the set of a live news show. Jane plays the first chord and sings “Two Week’s Notice.”

It’s not something I am ready for I’m sure neither are you I’ve already got a child I can’t raise two It makes no sense to drag this out It’s the right thing to do I’ve already got a child That child is you

“I’m not really sure how that song would inspire someone to quit their job,” Thin Host says when Jane is done playing. “I bet you get a lot of that. You know, people mistaking the intentions of your songs for something else.”

“Like we were saying earlier, that’s what happens with music and art,” Jane says. “People listen to music in different ways. Claire, I guess, doesn’t listen to the lyrics all that closely. And that’s fine. I just hope she find a new job soon and lands on her feet.”

“Guess you can’t judge a song by its title,” Fat Host says.

“We’re going to take another quick break and we’ll be right back with more music by request from our in-studio guest Jane Hadley, who is performing at Decker Hall tonight and we’ll be giving away that pair of tickets to see her. You’re listening to the Manic Morning Show on 97.1 K–WOW.”

There it is, the missing piece to Jane and Keith’s old fight, his calm condescension. Finding herself in familiar territory, she habitually lights a cigarette in her mouth.

They never take calls live on-air. It’s a recipe for disaster. You could get a Baba Booey or a suicide or someone who just wants to yell “Fuck” on the radio. Answering calls off-air lets the hosts screen and edit the calls for the best possible radio. Fat Host takes the next caller.

“Hi, Jane. Since you’re single, maybe we can hook up after your show tonight. I’m hung.”

Fat Host immediately hangs up on the caller.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Jane says. “Maybe he was cute.”

She’s joking but only a little bit. Among the whiskey and cigarettes, her after-show parties have been filled with men. Lots of men. At least one every night. The show in L.A. had two, the one in Salt Lake had three.

Two more calls, both women, both requesting “Onward.” The third call is a man.

“97.1, Manic Morning Show,” Lady Host says.

“Jane?” the caller asks like he was calling Jane directly and not a San Francisco morning radio show.

“Hi, do you have a request for Jane Hadley?” Lady Host tries again.

“Jane. Are you there?”

“Okay, weirdo, goodbye,” Lady Host says as she signals Fat Host to drop the call.

“Wait,” Jane says. Lady Host looks at Thin Host who nods as a sign to let Jane play this one out. “Keith?”

The three hosts look at each other with confusion before Thin Host chimes in, “Jane, you’ve got a friend here in San Francisco. And a K-WOW listener to boot!”

“Keith is my ex-husband.” The three hosts drop their jaws and sit back in their chairs like they’re ready to watch the unbelievable, certain shit show commence. “Keith, what are you doing?”

“I was listening to the radio and heard you.”

“What are you doing in San Francisco?”

“I’m living with my brother.”

“You have a brother?”

 “I have three brothers.”

“Three!? Why didn’t you ever say anything? Why weren’t they at the wedding?”

“My family is complicated.”

Jane is stunned. She, too, is now sitting with her mouth agape in disbelief. “So you’re living here now?”

“For the moment. There was a job, so…”

“What’s the job?”

“It’s a documentary about San Francisco suicides that don’t take place on the Golden Gate. There’s a large population of suicidals that is overlooked because of the attention that the Bridge gets. It’s tragic. And these people aren’t even polluting the bay when they kill themselves. It’s an important topic.”

Thin Host jumps in again. “So, Keith—Keith, right?—would you like to hear a song by Jane Hadley?” Jane shoots Thin Host a look that says, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Let’s hear that one about abortion again.”

Jane cringes. She is no longer stunned, now she’s pissed. Of course she never told him about the pregnancy. By their third date, it was clear that he had baby fever. Because Keith had such a foul and complicated relationship with his own family, he was desperate to build a new one. And though Jane wasn’t opposed to being a parent someday, she was in no immediate rush, but also knew, deep in her gut, that Keith would make a terrible father. That having a child would provide him with another person to manipulate and break down until nothing was left but a desiccated husk of a human. He would do to his child what his parents did to him and what he had nearly done to Jane.

Jane and the hosts are frozen but the digital phone recorder rolls along.

“Can I hear it? Can I hear the song about you killing my child?”

 “Whoa!” Thin Host says as Fat Host laughs in shock.

“She didn’t kill your child,” Lady Host says. “She’s the mother and she has the right to make any decision she wants related to her body.”

“I agree,” Keith says. “But in the interest of true sexual and gender fairness and whatever, doesn’t the father have a right to know and at least be part of the discussion? When were you pregnant, Jane? Were we married? Because if so, then you absolutely owed me that.”

Lady Host defends her. “She doesn’t owe you anything.”

“No, he’s right,” Jane says. “I probably should have said something. I agonized over telling you about it for two weeks before.”

“Oh, you agonized, did you? That was my child.”

She can hear his special brand of angry panic in his voice. She knows she should have the deejays hang up. But that anger and panic of his was always delicious bait to her. She can’t help herself from engaging. “It wasn’t a child, Keith. And if it had been, it would have been ours. And that, that right there is why I didn’t tell you. I mean, I knew I couldn’t keep it because of your selfishness and controlling impulses. I would have had the abortion twenty minutes after I peed on the stick but I held off, debating if you should be there with me. But I knew that you’d never agree to it and that the idea of it would only lead to this.”

“And what’s this?”

“You accusing me of killing your child.”

Thin Host speaks up. “So Keith, what do you think about the rest of the album?”

“I didn’t know she could play electric guitar.”

There it is, the missing piece to Jane and Keith’s old fight, his calm condescension. Finding herself in familiar territory, she habitually lights a cigarette in her mouth.

“Uh, Jane, you can’t smoke that in here,” Fat Host says.

She exhales a large cloud of smoke emphasizing it with two small rings at the end. “I’ll make you a deal,” she says, “you promise not to air this and I’ll put it out.”

“It’s just that, well, it’s a federal regulation that you can’t smoke inside of buildings. It’s nothing personal. Hell, we all smoke,” Fat Host says.

“Promise me.”

Fat Host looks at Lady Host and Thin Host. Thin Host nods and fat Host says, “Promise.” Jane snuffs the cigarette out on the bottom of her boot. She walks to the small trashcan across the studio, drops the cigarette in and pours a few ounces of coffee on it for safety. She returns back to her microphone and puts her headphones back on.

“What do you want, Keith?” she asks.

Silence.

“Keith? Are you still with us, Keith?” Thin Host asks.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“What is it you want, Keith?” Thin Host asks again as if Jane’s voice was the problem the first time.

“I want you back,” Keith says.

Jane bursts out in laughter. “Are you fucking kidding me!?” The hosts are shocked. “Sorry,” she says to them.

“It’s okay, we’re not live,” Lady Host says. She leans over to Fat Host and whispers, “Bleep it out.”

“Duh,” Fat Host whispers back.

“I’ve missed you and I have a new therapist out here who says that I’m ready to be in a relationship with you again.”

“Then sue your therapist for malpractice,” Jane says, “because he’s a fucking quack.”

Fat Host holds up his arm to grab attention and says, “We are coming out of break.” He turns on his microphone, does a quick station I.D. and lets the audience know that Jane Hadley is in the studio and that they’ll be back with more from her, then plays music. As he finishes and the red ON-AIR light outside of the studio door turns off, Gavin, Jane’s tour manager storms in.

“I think we’re done here,” he says. Everyone ignores him. This is something he’s used to so he shrinks back out of the studio.

“Jane, I—”

“Shut up, Keith. It’s not happening. But I’ll put your name on the will call list at the door tonight if you want to come see the show.” She looks at Fat Host. “Hang up on him.”

Fat Host again looks around at his co-hosts for a confirmation. They both deny her request. Jane sees this and as Keith begins pleading to her in a breathy panic, she stands up, throws her headphones on the console, walks around to the control board where Fat Host is sitting and rummages around with her eyes for the phone. “Hang up. Where is it? Hang up on him. There’s nothing more to say.” Fat Host uses his bulk to keep her away. “Okay then, I guess you don’t want those backstage tickets to my sold out show tonight for your listeners. I guess you’d rather fuck with me than keep a promise to your listeners. Fine then.”

She walks back around to her guitar and coffee, puts the guitar in its case, throws the nearly empty coffee cup into the trashcan. She lights another cigarette before storming out of the studio, the station, and into the parking lot where Gavin is waiting.

“I need a drink,” she says.

It’s barely past six-thirty in the morning so Gavin suggests hotel room service. Jane agrees. She admits that after a few mini bottles of Dewar’s and Tanqueray she’ll be ready for a nap.

✶         

IN THE HOTEL ROOM, GAVIN SLEEPS IN THE DESK CHAIR WITH HIS FEET PROPPED UP ON THE DESK, a small bottle of gin delicately rests in his curved fingers of his dangling arm. It’s eight-thirty and Jane lays drunk in bed. She’s tuned the nightstand clock radio to 97.1 FM, K–WOW. The idiots are playing the phone call with Keith. They’ve bleeped out her cursing. They’ve edited it to make her seem more erratic than she thought she had been. She’s pissed about it but she knows that this is only going to help her reputation and lead to more album and concert ticket sales.

She fumbles for her phone and calls Keith. After recording Hell in a Handbasket, Jane set out to remove any traces of him from her life. She built a fire in the alley behind her apartment next to the dumpster burning anything associated with their time together. Photos, a pair of his socks she loved to sleep in, the Dandelions t-shirt she bought at the show the night they met, that stupid crystal duck he gave to her on their first Christmas together. She never understood the significance of it. He was so excited to give it to her, so proud of himself that she never bothered to ask him why he thought she might like it. Of course, the crystal duck didn’t burn, so Jane smashed it to pieces with a hammer. The one thing she didn’t do during her Keith purge was delete his contact information from her phone. He answered her call before the first ring finished.

“Come to the show tonight,” she says to him.

“Do you want to get back together?”

“No. But I want to see you. Actually, if you can, come to my hotel right now. I’ll text you the address.”

She hangs up before he can respond and sends the text. She knows she has made a destructive decision and that there is no way any of this will end well. But that’s not what Jane wants. Keith has reopened her wounds as easily as if they’d never healed at all. Jane wants to bask in the familiarity of the disrespect and jealousy and anger that defined their relationship. One more chug of the poison, she tells herself, then she’ll be done. She’ll even delete him from her phone.

Keith texts back that he’s on his way. Jane wakes Gavin up and kicks him out of her room.

“You called Keith, didn’t you?” Gavin asks.

“I’ll see you later,” she says, closing the door in his face.

She picks up her guitar and writes a new song. It comes to her as easily as “Onward” did. Maybe even easier. She realizes that Keith is her muse. The thought of that is a good reason to open another mini bottle of whiskey. Maybe she won’t delete him from her phone. Just in case her creativity ever runs dry.

This is not the type of musician or person she thought she’d be but it’s the one the music industry needs, the one her generation needs—whatever generation that is. And certainly, it is the one she needs to be in order to remain being anything at all.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Pluralistic: 20 Mar 2020 (Who Has Your Face?, Monkey law firm vs covid, Blurred Lines sharpened, Consumer Reports on covid, Right to Repair during pandemics, secret GOP senate panic trading, Trump is outbidding state agencies for medical supplies, Coronavirus Sean of the Dead, Ifixit medical device guides, crowdsourced open source ventilator, Dafoe's plague diary)

Today's links

Patent trolls spin their shakedown of covide testing tech: Monkey law firm hired by Softbank patent-trolls to use Theranos patents to attack covid testing engages in spin.

Who Has Your Face? A short and sobering quiz from EFF.

Judge overturns terrible copyright decision against Katy Perry: Sharpening up the "Blurred Lines" principle.

Consumer Reports' covid-19 guide: Consistently the most reliable source of unbiased product info.

Right to Repair during pandemics: Hospitals are the new farms: isolated, with systems that need to be fixed NOW.

Republican senators told us everything was fine as they secretly panic-sold their stocks: But they made sure to clue in the donor class.

Trump is outbidding state agencies for medical supplies: He says federal coordination would turn him into "a shipping clerk."

Simon Pegg's coronavirus Sean of the Dead remake: "What's the plan?"

Ifixit's new database of med-tech repair guides: They need your help.

Open source hardware ventilator enters testing: From zero to prototype in 7 days.

Dafoe's plague diaries: Party like it's 1665.

This day in history: 2005, 2010, 2015, 2019

Colophon: Recent publications, current writing projects, upcoming appearances, current reading

Patent trolls spin their shakedown of covide testing tech (permalink)

Remember the garbage-matrioshke of a story in which a Softbank-funded patent troll was using bogus patents bought from the wreckage of Theranos to shut down covid testing, through a firm that once claimed to represent a monkey for copyright purposes?

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/17/pluralistic-17-mar-2020/#fortress-investment-group

It gets worse!

Irell and Manella, the monkey lawfirm, has been claiming it's all a nonstory because their Softbank-backed patent-troll client offered a "royalty free license" to their garbage Theranos patent.

But this is worthless. Labrador (patent troll who make nothing but lawsuits) has offered a royalty-free license to only some of things that Biofire (biotech company that makes covid tests) needs, while banning the rest.

https://www.patentprogress.org/2020/03/18/patents-in-the-time-of-coronavirus/

They're "offering to allow a royalty-free license for the COVID-19 test… [but] they're still trying to block the technology that's needed to run the COVID-19 test."

What's more, that license doesn't extend to other companies working on covid tests.

Even by the low standards of deceptive spin from predatory lawfirms, this is garbage behavior. Not as bad as hastening the extinction of the human race by blocking covid testing, but worse than anything you or I are likely to do in our lifetimes.

https://www.techdirt.com/articles/20200318/16113044127/why-softbank-patent-trolls-promise-royalty-free-license-theranos-patents-covid-19-is-bullshit.shtml

Who Has Your Face? (permalink)

Who Has Your Face? is a new interactive from EFF that tells you where the biometrics you had to give up – for a driver's license, say – have proliferated. We are in "perpetual lineups," our faces being continuously assessed by algorithmic guilt systems.

https://whohasyourface.eff.org/

The project announcement delves into this in depth:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/03/announcing-who-has-your-face

There is a stunning lack of transparency on biometric sharing. And the pandemic is making it worse – even as grifty beltway bandits are promising to use mass surveillance to prevent the spread of the disease…for a price.

It's time for a national ban of government use of facial recognition tech!

https://www.eff.org/aboutface

Judge overturns terrible copyright decision against Katy Perry (permalink)

Here's some rare good copyright news! A judge has overturned a copyright claim against Katy Perry that would have had her paying $2.3m because she recorded a song in which eight notes were similar to many other songs, including an obscure piece of Christian hiphop.

The ruling does not overturn the jury's finding of fact – that Perry's song had similarities to this other, obscure song – but rather, it overturns the legal principle that this similarity constitutes a copyright infringement.

https://www.techdirt.com/articles/20200319/00094444129/surprise-judge-throws-out-jurys-awful-copyright-infringement-decision-over-katy-perry-song.shtml

And although the copyright trolls who came after Perry might appeal, this decision chips away at an even worse copyright precedent, the "Blurred Lines" argument that a pop song is illegal if it reminds the listener of Martin Gaye, even if it was not copied from a Gaye song.

One of the best things about this decision is that it cites the plaintiffs' expert witness's own testimony – the musicologist the copyright trolls hired basically admitted that this was not a copyright infringement.

This case is a victory for fairness and Fair Use, though Warner Chappell, Perry's publisher, has not covered itself in glory during this affair. Most notably, they attacked a prominent supporter of their cause with a fraudulent copyright claim.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/05/warner-chappell-copyfraud/#warnerchappell

(Image: slgckgc, CC BY)

Consumer Reports' covid-19 guide (permalink)

The most consistently reliable US source of unbiased product reviews and information is Consumer Reports, and now they've published a covid-19 guide.

https://www.consumerreports.org/issue/coronavirus-covid-19

Included: products believed to be effective at destroying the virus on skin and surfaces, guides to sanitizing your devices, how to work from home, what kinds of novel scams have popped up, and what to do if you feel unwell.

Right to Repair during pandemics (permalink)

Farmers lead in Right to Repair is because when you're isolated and need to get the crops in, you can't wait for a distant part or service tech to come to your site – that's why farms have workshops (even forges!).

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/03/right-repair-times-pandemic

Pandemic puts us all in situations like those farmers, with important things to do that can't wait for the authorized tech or official parts.

But especially, it puts hospitals in this situation.

That's why Right to Repair is so urgent at this moment.

The right person to decide whether a field repair should be attempted, and whether the repair is solid enough to rely upon are medical professionals, not the shareholders of med-tech companies or the lawyers who write their terms of service and patent applications.

Republican senators told us everything was fine as they secretly panic-sold their stocks (permalink)

The Senate and Congress have incredibly lax insider trading rules. They let elected politicians use the private information they glean from closed-door hearings and legislative planning sessions to take market positions that enrich themselves when the rest of us are clued in. That's how GOP lawmakers cleaned up in 2017, buying up health insurance stocks before announcing the full-court press to kill Obamacare, which sent the insurers' stocks skyrocketing.

https://theintercept.com/2017/07/06/republican-lawmakers-buy-health-insurance-stocks-as-repeal-effort-moves-forward/

But it's not just Congress and the Senate! Lawmakers have a long tradition of laundering their insider information for politically connected types: rich donors, lobbyists, party bosses.

https://legaltimes.typepad.com/blt/2013/04/government-report-examines-political-intelligence-but-questions-remain.html

It's no surprise that Senate Intelligence Chair Richard Burr [R-NC] secretly sold off $1.7m of his stocks after being briefed on coronavirus, even as he was publicly reassuring people that Trump was right, it was no biggie, and everything would be fine.

https://www.propublica.org/article/senator-dumped-up-to-1-6-million-of-stock-after-reassuring-public-about-coronavirus-preparedness

Not just Burr, either. Even as he was publicly claiming that coronavirus would fizzle, he was briefing North Carolina's elite $10,000/person members that they, too, should be panic-selling before us plebs got wind of the real scale of the crisis. The secret recording of that meeting has Burr saying "There's one thing that I can tell you about this: It is much more aggressive in its transmission than anything that we have seen in recent history … It is probably more akin to the 1918 pandemic."

That's what he told plutes. Here's what he was saying for public consumption: "he United States today is better prepared than ever before to face emerging public health threats, like the coronavirus."

https://www.foxnews.com/opinion/coronavirus-prevention-steps-the-u-s-government-is-taking-to-protect-you-sen-alexander-and-sen-burr

It wasn't just Burr, either. Other GOP senators who panic-sold while telling us that Trump had it all under control and nothing bad would happen include Kelly Loeffler [R-GA], Ron Johnson [R-WI], and Jim Inhofe [R-OK].

<a href="https://www.reviewjournal.com/news/politics-and-government/4-senators-sold-stock-before-steep-market-losses-from-virus-1986546/">https://www.reviewjournal.com/news/politics-and-government/4-senators-sold-stock-before-steep-market-losses-from-virus-1986546/

This insider trading is so egregious that it might have actually breached the Senate" s="" farcically="" loose="" rules.="" aoc="" is="" calling="" for="" burr="" to="" resign.<="" p="">

https://twitter.com/aoc/status/1240759241847308293

Trump is outbidding state agencies for medical supplies (permalink)

Trump has refused to coordinate federal procurements of emergency supplies for states, saying the fed is not "a shipping clerk" for state governments.

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2020-03-19/trump-told-governors-to-buy-own-virus-supplies-then-outbid-them

Now, state agencies are routinely getting outbid by FEMA when they try to buy things like masks.

Trump brought Mass Gov Charlie Baker onto a FEMA videoconference to boast about his performance, only to be told that Baker's officials had been outbid by FEMA. Three times.

Baker (to Trump: "I've got a feeling that if someone has the chance to sell to you and to sell to me, I am going to lose on every one of those."

Trump: "Prices are always a component of that also. And maybe that's why you lost to the feds, OK, that's probably why."

Simon Pegg's coronavirus Sean of the Dead remake (permalink)

Gorbless Simon Pegg and Nick Frost for this delightful coronavirus-themed reenactment of "the plan" call from Shaun of the Dead.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XO6FW1aJkTw

Ifixit's new database of med-tech repair guides (permalink)

The latest Ifixit project is a database of indepedent repair manuals for medical devices:

https://www.ifixit.com/Device/Medical_Device

They need your help to improve it. If you have photos, manuals, etc related to medical device repair, please submit them:

https://www.ifixit.com/News/36354/help-us-crowdsource-repair-information-for-hospital-equipment

They're carrying on the work of Frank's Hospital Workshop, an amazing, one-person site based in Tanzania:

http://www.frankshospitalworkshop.com/

Ifixit turns crowdsourced photos, tips and guides into easy-to-read, consistently formatted, tested manuals that are aimed at both laypeople and skilled technicians.

https://www.theverge.com/2020/3/20/21187981/ifixit-medical-device-repair-database-guides-ventilators-coronavirus-covid-19

As supply chains break and parts and technicians become scarce, hospitals need to carry on their long tradition of effecting field repairs on their own – but these repairs may need to be longer-lived and serve more urgent needs than ever before.

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/03/right-repair-times-pandemic

Open source hardware ventilator enters testing (permalink)

7 days ago, a group of open source hardware enthusiasts put out an open call for help in designing OSHW ventilators. After contributions from 300+ engineers, med techs and researchers, they have a prototype ready for testing.

https://techcrunch.com/2020/03/19/open-source-project-spins-up-3d-printed-ventilator-validation-prototype-in-just-one-week/

Ireland's Health Services Executive, which regulates medical devices, is evaluating the prototype.

The group has since changed its name to "the Open Source COVID19 Medical Supplies community" and has broadened its focus to "masks, sanitizer and protective face guards."

Dafoe's plague diaries (permalink)

I spent 13 years in London, off Pitfield Street (named for the plague pits that still line it), near Bunhill Cemetary (a "hill of bones" made from the plague dead). Bunhill has some incredible inmates, including Thomas Bayes, but also Daniel "Robinson Crusoe" Dafoe.

Dafoe was five in 1665, when the bubonic plague came to London. It made an impression on him. 57 years later, he published "A Journal of the Plague Year," featuring his recollections of the time.

https://www.gutenberg.org/files/376/376-h/376-h.htm

This excerpt, dealing with the economic terrors of the city shutdown – and the ways these exacerbated the health crisis – bears reading now.

https://www.wired.com/beyond-the-beyond/2020/03/plague-economics-1660s/

The economy froze up: sailors couldn't sail, so shipwrights couldn't build, so tavern keepers couldn't pour, so brewers couldn't brew. Centuries later, it's pretty familiar stuff.

But this longer excerpt is even more fascinating and relevant. As the plague loomed, people hallucinated angels and devils, sought out prophecies, blamed it on foreigners, and sought out scapegoats.

https://www.wired.com/beyond-the-beyond/2020/03/fears-people-young/

They were terrified that they would die, that they would be cast out, that they would be denied care, that they would be left to die. They panicked, and it spread.

Also eerily familiar sounding.

Dafoe says out that the only reason London survived is that it had a crude safety net, which kept absolute chaos at bay.

People lost their jobs, or panicked thinking they would, and left the city, carrying plague through the land.

This day in history (permalink)

#15yrsago Yahoo! bought Flickr! https://blog.flickr.net/en/2005/03/20/yahoo-actually-does-acquire-flickr/

#10yrsago Peter Watts may serve two years for failing to promptly obey a customs officer https://www.rifters.com/crawl/?p=1186

#5yrsago Suspicious people, American Airlines edition https://secure.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/16690196059/

#1yrago Sponsor of the "Discouraging Frivolous Lawsuits Act" sues Twitter cow-account for $250 million https://lawandcrime.com/crazy/devin-nunes-sues-twitter-and-devin-nunes-mom-for-a-whopping-250-million/

#1yrago More Than 130 European Businesses Tell the European Parliament: Reject the #CopyrightDirective https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/03/more-130-european-businesses-tell-european-parliament-reject-copyrightdirective

#1yrago California's Right to Repair Bill, killed by Big Ag and Apple, has been reintroduced https://appleinsider.com/articles/19/03/18/california-reintroduces-right-to-repair-bill-after-previous-effort-failed

#1yrago Health industry lobbyists are posing as "ordinary citizens who don't want Medicare for All" https://splinternews.com/look-at-these-absolutely-ordinary-americans-who-hate-me-1833380461

#1yrago IBM supplied surveillance gear to Davao while Duterte was mayor and cheering on the city's police-linked death-squads https://theintercept.com/2019/03/20/rodrigo-duterte-ibm-surveillance/

Colophon (permalink)

Today's top sources: Naked Capitalism (nakedcapitalism.com/), Slashdot (https://slashdot.org), Geekologie (https://geekologie.com), Geoffrey MacDougall (https://twitter.com/taliesan).

Currently writing: I've just finished rewrites on a short story, "The Canadian Miracle," for MIT Tech Review. It's a story set in the world of my next novel, "The Lost Cause," a post-GND novel about truth and reconciliation. I've also just completed "Baby Twitter," a piece of design fiction also set in The Lost Cause's prehistory, for a British think-tank. I'm getting geared up to start work on the novel next.

Currently reading: Just started Lauren Beukes's forthcoming Afterland: it's Y the Last Man plus plus, and two chapters in, it's amazeballs. Last month, I finished Andrea Bernstein's "American Oligarchs"; it's a magnificent history of the Kushner and Trump families, showing how they cheated, stole and lied their way into power. I'm getting really into Anna Weiner's memoir about tech, "Uncanny Valley." I just loaded Matt Stoller's "Goliath" onto my underwater MP3 player and I'm listening to it as I swim laps.

Latest podcast: The Masque of the Red Death and Punch Brothers Punch https://craphound.com/podcast/2020/03/16/the-masque-of-the-red-death-and-punch-brothers-punch/

Upcoming books: "Poesy the Monster Slayer" (Jul 2020), a picture book about monsters, bedtime, gender, and kicking ass. Pre-order here: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781626723627?utm_source=socialmedia&utm_medium=socialpost&utm_term=na-poesycorypreorder&utm_content=na-preorder-buynow&utm_campaign=9781626723627

(we're having a launch for it in Burbank on July 11 at Dark Delicacies and you can get me AND Poesy to sign it and Dark Del will ship it to the monster kids in your life in time for the release date).

"Attack Surface": The third Little Brother book, Oct 20, 2020. https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250757531

"Little Brother/Homeland": A reissue omnibus edition with a new introduction by Edward Snowden: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250774583

[vyvesvi]

i don't mean to annoy by being in your inbox every time ytsn breathes but any thoughts on we are young and super a warning ahead?

omg i’m never annoyed by this stuff, esp bc i usually don’t get to talk about them much!

let’s see... (warning: i tried to stay positive but failed. also this got long afff no pressure to read all of it lmfao)

we are young - controversial opinion: this is their best concept (to me in this moment, i could decide something else tomorrow lmao). the choreo isn’t bad and the song is catchy, even though the production quality of the studio version leaves a bit to be desired (it sounds tinny and not super full to me?). my main disappointment is with the live stage (...this is becoming a trend) where they messed up...kinda a lot. i feel like mistakes are normal but the ones they made were just incredibly noticeable and it’s telling to me that the camera angles couldn’t really hide them. the styling was awful for the most part but the concept was cute and i feel like zy is a lot more comfortable with long hair tbh.

super a warning ahead - i actually really enjoy the song! i think the way that they draw out some of the lines sounds a bit odd but the production and everything is much better than we are young. the reason why i put we are young above this one is because of the concept idea is general. like this song...doesn’t really go anywhere? like its...sweet? but not really interesting. the styling is sooooo much better, but the choreo is pretty boring, very give and take. I don’t mind a simple point dance because they have the potential to be iconic, memorable, and easily imitated, but the rest of the dance could’ve been a lot more interesting. but then again, they weren’t in sync in the dance performance video so like...idk. i feel like live performances are one thing, but prerecorded content should theoretically be better because they can do it in multiple takes? i don’t want to judge them *too* much but that is one are where i think they have been struggling (and i didn’t really expect it at all?)

so nothing that’s gonna make me unstan but it’s clear to me that their preparations were rushed. i wish they would like. take a month or two to regroup. i don’t want them gone for that long but if these are the performances that we’re getting on their current preparations i think it’d be for the best.

i also don’t think they’re making use of their strong vocalists (xilin, wyj, znx, and czx). like 4/7 are main vocal material and they could be doing a lot more with that. of course the issue is that the remaining members aren’t really comfortable with rapping and are (comparatively) weak singers, but they don’t make use of xiening or yifan’s dance abilities well either. i’ve said this before (and i’ll try not to hammer it in too much because it’s a pretty biased opinion) but watching zy do dance breaks with or after xiening is like...tragic. like idky they’re setting her up so bad but they need to stop TTTT

as a group they also kinda lack stage presence together. like individually most of them have pretty solid presence but idk what happens when they’re together bc they don’t really sync up?

//edit: okay at this point i decided that i was maybe being too harsh so i started analyzing the debut stages and mvs for rocket girls/hjsn and the9. it didn’t help and ended up being a ramble so feel free to skip lmfao

ytsn & hjsn: bc hjsn debuted with 8 members (minus already debuted meiqi and xuanyi & main vocal zining) and not their full 11 they’re kinda comparable to ytsn as they are now. while ytsn’s styling is somehow better, hjsn’s sync and energy, even taking into account their members who aren’t great dancers, is kind of on a different level (partially biased though, despite that fact that i’m not fully a stan they’re my number one pick for most balanced gg of all time). i’m going to guess that even though they’re produced by the same company that their teams and company philosophy regarding management is completely different. the choreo quality is quite different and ytsn seems to favor debut rank a lot more. of course, meiqi and xuanyi were featured very prominently when they came back but the formations weren’t as stagnant as ytsn’s seem as of now? both groups are similar in that their main dancers (mengjie and xiening) ranked relatively low and therefore didn’t get to show their full ability very often. also an important difference between hjsn and ytsn is that hjsn’s main rapper is kind of legendary and was well known for her ability before the show so. there’s not really a comparison there (for the record though, i like curely’s rapping i just think 1.) it’s a waste given her vocal ability and 2.) she hasn’t been given really long verses because while she has talent she’s not “a rapper” in the typical way).

the9 & hjsn: idk if u watched qcyn2 but i decided to watch a bit of it since i thought it was kinda interesting that the two final groups would be debuting at the same time. to compare the two...ytsn’s vocals are stronger and i think that’s generally accepted as fact. like yuyan is really good but they put so much pressure on her (personally i think anqi and shaking could share the burden but idk). other than that everyone else is a subvocal and/or rapper, so by default the9 wins the rap category. oddly enough, because there are so many rappers they can’t have those longer satisfying verses because they have to share the lines, which impacts their....impact for lack of a better word. there’s kinda no other way to do it without everything being super uneven so i get it though. that leaves dance and stage presence. i think that individually anqi and xiening eat everyone else alive, but comparing group to group...the9 wins for their sync alone, but notably ytsn has performed more and have one more song with choreo. i don’t know i would say that they’re super uneven in presence, but i do feel that because of the number of members with previous stage experience in the9, they are more comfortable performing. 

for fun i once took the 16 members of the9 and ytsn and redistributed them into more balanced lineups of 8

team one:

yuxin - vocal, lead dancer 2, sub rapper 1

anqi - lead vocal, main dancer

yuyan - main vocal 2

keyin - main rapper

keran - lead rapper

curley - main vocal 1

yifan - vocal, lead dancer 1

zhaoyue - vocal, lead dancer 3, sub rappper 2

team two:

yijin - main vocal 2

zhuoxuan - main vocal 1

xiening - main dancer, sub vocal 2

nene - lead vocal 1

xueer - sub rapper, lead dancer 1

esther - sub vocal 1

jiaqi - main rapper, lead dancer 2

xiaotang - lead rapper

i lowkey stacked the first team with both centers, anqi, and keyin but whatever

anyways based on how i feel about the other debuts i kinda think im being mostly fair to ytsn? especially because i think they’ll grow a lot as a group over the next two years. i’d be a lot more concerned about their vocals if that was the problem because that’d be the hardest thing to fix but they don’t have to worry about that!

anyways i’m gonna cut myself off here because this has turned into...a lot but if you have thoughts definitely share them, i’d love to hear!!!

[softkitten]

Months in music, 2020

I used to always write about my favourite songs and albums of the year, but recently I’ve fallen out of practice. I felt I had to write about this last year, as the pandemic has played havoc with my memory, but I need to be able to remember what happened. It’s been important. I came out changed. I know you did too, and I hope if you read this, you find something to relate to. 

I’m unsure as to whether 2020 was an amazing year for music, or if being under lockdown and out of work meant that I had more time to spend with it, but I do know that music this year overall made me more excited than any year since I was a teenager. The circumstances we’ve all been putting up with have meant that we’ve had to learn new ways of being, new circuitry is growing in our brains, even if we’re old farts, as we’ve discarded habits that no longer work and take on new ones. 

I’m a mess. My anxiety disorder is worse than it’s been since I was a teenager. I’m not sleeping well. I spend a lot of time with my heart in my throat, and sometimes my temper can just erupt all at once, surprising me and anyone unfortunate enough to be present for the outburst. But I’m kinder, more considered, better with money, better at acting ‘professional’ without performing a weird caricature. I kind of moved on from performance this year, despite a lot of previous generational habits. The version of me that I present at work is me in some way, reconciled with the idea that if I were allowed to do whatever I want I’d be on a beach somewhere with a drink in my hand. That ideal doesn’t define me, nor does a workplace role. 

2020 music hit different. Calvin Harris dropped the hottest club tracks of his entire career in a year when if you were caught in a club, you were doing something very, very bad indeed. Disco has dominated Spotify playlists and public spaces (when allowed), this is alright by me as disco is responsible for the sexiest parts of hip hop, house, pop, etc. We consume music differently, as the monoculture has by now completely disintegrated and no one ever, ever listens to radio. If you like something, Spotify will find ways to bring you more of it, you will rarely, if ever, hear Britney Spears or even Michael Jackson unless you seek them out. I’ve spent more time with music this year than I have since I was a teenager, I’m excited and awed by it in a way I haven’t felt in a very long time, but I also feel out of touch and very much my age. I don’t go on Tiktok. I don’t get it. I don’t need to be dancing in the kitchen or composing sketch comedy bits on my phone, I’m a middle aged man with payments on my car and a desk job. I think what’s going on is a changing of the guard - millennials are no longer the focus of ‘youth culture’ insofar as that exists. Remember 1999-2001, the cringiest of pop eras, when the major stars of the ‘90s were releasing sedate, mature records or just breaking up their bands, and the charts were the province of things that seemed retrogressive and primitive like Korn? It certainly was primitive, it was made for literal children, and I see something very similar in Tiktok hits and emo rap. 

Sheena’s ex was enamored of a scene in a 2000s action movie starring The Rock, wherein Schwarzenegger cameos to toss The Rock a set of keys and tell him, “Have fun”. Well, you censorious unfunky Gen Z brats are welcome to youth culture, I hope you do a better job of it than we did - frankly we left you a hell of a mess to clean up. If you need me, I’ll be working out how to enact my plan to die on a beach somewhere. 

January - Work Drugs - Burned 

January was a fuck of a lot different. Sheena and I had just come back from Playa del Carmen, our skin was tan and our hair was long. I had a great big bushy beard. I looked older in January, I was trying to cultivate a professorial air for work. I had plans. I was aggressively dealing with my debt. We were going to go to the west coast in June to see Luna, our newborn niece, and we were going to try to make it to Bass Coast, where, hopefully, Denis Sulta would be playing as he had done in the previous two years. 

Work Drugs is something Spotify found for me. I know nothing about these fucking people, after a year of listening to their entire catalogue. I think I found out that two guys were responsible for it, two guys I couldn’t pick out of a police lineup. They make knowingly corny ‘80s style pop - think Hall and Oates, or Huey Lewis on tranquilizers. One of my favourite things millennials have done in art is reclaiming elevator music, smooth jazz, adult contemporary, etc. - this music that was the definition of uncool when it was first published is now the new punk statement, millennials never had any appetite for buzzsaw guitars or shouty anger men outside of, like, emo. 

Vaporwave started ten years ago and it was pronounced dead within months. It’s far from dead. It’s responsible for Work Drugs, The Midnight, Nonlocal Forecast - music that is desperate to return to the illusory public stability of the ‘80s and ‘90s. Work Drugs fit in because it played well at the diverse office I worked in (median age, 46), because the name spoke to a duality I see in myself. The drugs you take on the weekend, the drugs you take to get through the work day. If only we could be ‘80s adults happily blasting through our uppers-downers cycles, mulling another affair and when to put in a pool. 

February - Tame Impala - Breathe Deeper

One night Sheena and I got drunk and I told them my plan. I was going to go back to school for a master’s of counselling psychology, and I was going to pursue a doctorate in same immediately after. I was going to quit my job once I upped my education and apply - I don’t know where? The government? It all seemed so clear and now it’s as easy to recall as a nine year old dream. Anyway, Sheena told me “Your future seems so much clearer than mine” and two hours later we were fighting like cat and dog, talking divorce. The divorce didn’t happen, thank the lord. We went to counselling, and it took a few months, and a few fuckups, but the lessons did sink in eventually. I love Sheena more than ever, even moreso than during the halcyon infatuation phase of 2010, the glittering release from the tension of our friendship, and I feel more loved than ever. Things are good to great. Don’t worry. I’m not worried. I didn’t realize how worried I was before, how flawed my communication could be before. The pandemic year has helped. We’ve patched things up because we do love each other, and because we are seeing each other through the misery and uncertainty in a way no one else could. 

I used to envy the relationships of my grandparents and their contemporaries - people who were together for decades, still, for the most part, happy. I remember the way my grandmother would flirt with my grandfather, how they’d keep up their little bits well into their 80s. Contrasting that with boomers, who were all about divorce, made a child version of me think that something had gone horribly wrong. 

Tame Impala’s last album is about aging - my favourite off it is not actually “Breathe Deeper,” it’s “It Might Be Time” - It might be time to face it/ you ain’t as cool as it used to be/ you won’t recover - these lyrics spoke to me as I crested over the wrong side of 35. But “Breathe Deeper” spoke to my reality in a more complete way. I’ve always seen our grandparents, Depression survivors, in us - when millennials were firmly at the reins of youth culture, Justin Timberlake brought sexy back right after he raided my grandpa’s wardrobe. That aesthetic reflects us, as it did then. Our relationships will endure because we’ve endured hardships together, we know how to take care of each other in unique, special ways. But the paradox there is all over “Breathe Deeper”, its last lines are “We’re both adults but we behave as children/ long as we’ve got enough to keep on livin’.” Indeed, it might be time to face it, but the world leaves us little other options. The adult world, with its aspirations to middle class status, closed to us forever in 2008, two years after Timberlake. I know the aging club boy act is getting tired. So do a lot of us, but we don’t have anything else to do. May as well go to the club and shut the anxious brain off for a few hours, make it harder for us to reach our blessed phones. Return home. Do this and get through this, and until we see the sun, you’re my number one. 

March - Duke Dumont - Nightcrawler

The week after the fight in February, I got fired. I have no idea why. The official statement on my record of employment is “termination, no misconduct”. No one ever thought to explain it to me - did they find out I jacked off in the staff bathroom a couple times? Did they somehow find out that, in my off hours, I’m into psychedelics? Was I chatting on Twitter too much for their liking? I was on top of my deadlines, so why shouldn’t I be chatting on Twitter? It wasn’t a retail job, where if you have time to lean, you have time to clean. I have a lot of work trauma. What happened to me there was essentially what my anxiety disorder tells me is going to happen at any job, 24/7. Part of me is sure I’ll be fired from my current position at any moment, despite having built a totally workable relationship with my boss, clients, and staff. I took it hard. 

Everyone remembers March for the onset of COVID lockdowns, but we would do well to remember that we had no idea what we were in for back then. We were talking then about “a week off work” - can you imagine? I still fully intended to see Detroit Swindle play at Hifi Club on March 27 well into lockdowns. Hifi has since shuttered after months and months of closure and subsequent inability to produce revenue. I applied to jobs like a machine in March. Just as I was getting somewhere with interviews, the lockdowns started, and the interviews were delayed indefinitely. I had nothing to do during the day and so spent a lot of time on the online red light districts of Whisper and Reddit, plying my trade, back to my ways, looking for anons to talk sex to compulsively. “Nightcrawler” feels to me like the compulsion of hypersexuality, boredom seeking validation while already bored by the numbers game of it, going through the motions. It’s so easy. Promise the moon and then disappear. 

In March, Sheena and I were going to go back to Saskatoon for a party with Twitter friends. Instead, we got caught in a snowstorm out in the Badlands and nearly died trying to get our car back up the hill and on the way to Calgary. Immediately after, everything closed. I think about that day all the time.

April - JARV IS - House Music All Night Long

It’s not a week off work, we have no idea when it’s going to end, and the statistics are going from bad to worse. We watch the news obsessively. We keep up chat threads all day long. We don’t leave bed until our hair is lank with sweat. We drink like fish - at one point during April, I ordered delivery booze, desperate to keep the party going. I met the delivery person at the door in my bathrobe and fell down the stairs. Shortly after that, I decided to clean up my act - at least, the drinking nights have to be self contained. New routines develop. With no gym, we learn floor exercises, playing Spotify playlists of house music off a Bluetooth speaker. Cooking becomes tremendously important. I begin reading Marcel Proust’s In Search of Lost Time in earnest - a book I began at 17, which I finally finished in June, 17 whole years after my initial purchase. Jarvis Cocker, who has been with me since I was 17, returns with a song recorded in 2019 that he seemingly composed with a crystal ball. 

“House Music All Night Long” is about endless, inescapable isolation. The futility of making and loving music that only makes sense in a public space, music that’s meant to soundtrack a joyful mutual celebration that will continue to be denied to us for the foreseeable future. It’s the closest solo Jarvis has come to the horror-porno soundtrack of the This Is Hardcore album and it speaks to a pandemic-specific version of the dread earlier described on “The Fear”. It mocks and sympathizes at once. When Jarvis yelps, “Saturday night cabin fever in House Nation,” he sounds like he’s going to the gallows, and we can find the inverse of the release house provides in it, through our Bluetooth speakers, on Zoom, in ragged house clothes, drunk as lords at 2pm, miserably unaware of what day it is. 

May - The 1975 - What Should I Say

In May the new routines started to stick. I accessed government relief, the days were getting longer, the snow was gone. On the weekends, Sheena and I went hiking, something we’d only done sporadically before, usually at the behest of others. Alberta is beautiful. Its countryside provides miles and miles of scenery to explore, and we spent hours outside, escaping the claustrophobia of our little apartment. 

In May, The 1975 released their latest album, Notes on a Conditional Form. It dominated my listening this year, to the point that my Spotify statistics were a little one-note. This album means as much to me as albums that started me on my journey with music, like Nine Inch Nails’ The Fragile. It came along at a similar time, I guess, a time in which my brain was working overtime to deal with circumstances and emotions and in which I had endless hours to devote to it. 

In May I fell out with a younger online friend, someone I’d met only once but spoke to every day for months. I have no idea why we fell out. I asked. I didn’t get an answer, I just got unfollowed, and I unfollowed right back. We will never speak again. “What Should I Say” is Matty Healy talking about being cancelled online by younger fans whose brains are developing faster than his, who love him, absorb his influence, and then abruptly reject him. “How do I get out of this? How do I win them back? Do I blame it on the drugs? Circumstance? Ambien makes me crazy, that’s why I said the wrong thing, that’s why you feel this way, please forgive me.”

After releasing Notes on May 22nd, Matty referred to the May 25th murder of George Floyd on his Twitter account, posting a protest song from his last album which includes the lyric “Suffocate the Black man”. His fans did not care for this and dogpiled on him, calling him self-serving, narcissistic, faux-messianic. He has since cut social media out of his life almost completely, returning sporadically to update Reddit fans and allowing his publicist to post official images. I took acid after my friend dumped me and listened to Notes on repeat. The day after, I deleted my old tweets. I won’t engage with younger people in this way again. I’m done trying to court the good opinion of those who don’t understand me or care about me at all. Unlike Matty, I have nothing to gain from this, and it’s really lost its appeal. 

June - Duck Sauce - Captain Duck

I remember the pandemic summer as a golden age. After a few months of it, the pleasure of having wide open days, no responsibilities, no phone calls to make or idiots to impress had fully set in. We kept up hiking until the bugs took over the trails, we took long drives, we took mushrooms, we ate al fresco in Calgary’s outdoor spaces, we went to Fish Creek Park and stuck our feet in the drink. I found I didn’t miss going out as much as I thought I would, this is an opinion I go back and forth on. I miss the good nights so badly, I fully intend to return to nightlife with bells on once it’s safe to do so, but I don’t know how long I’m going to stay. I don’t miss drunk DJ’s, or ones who are so amateurish that they blow the speakers prior to the headliner’s slot, or expensive drinks, or strangers intoxicated on much different drugs than the ones I took talking to and touching me. 

“Captain Duck” is a dancefloor bomb, one of a bumper crop of absolute bangers released this year as clubs closed en masse. Armand Van Helden, who I loved in high school, is doing the best work of his career solo and with his partner in Duck Sauce, A-Trak. “Captain Duck” played when I made ratatouille, when I made cheesecake, when I cleaned the toilet, when we took long drives to nowhere, when we worked out in our cramped living room near the catbox. I imagined it coming on right at 1:30am at a packed club, I imagined myself dropping it at Pacha to a rapturous reception. I fear the reality will not live up to the fantasy, when we are able to return. I hope I get to hear it in its intended setting. 

July - Spotify “Peaceful Summer Nights” playlist

No paradise is permanent. In July, I had no intention of going back to work. Once I finished reading In Search of Lost Time, I started making music again, for the first time since I was a teenager. Sheena and I were painting nearly every night. In Search of Lost Time features a cast of thousands, innumerable loveable characters lovingly realized. No one would read this long, sometimes dull book if it wasn’t deeply pleasurable, and if one couldn’t see oneself in it. There are a lot of characters that you will think about for a long time after you’ve finished the Search, if you read it - Odette de Crecy and the Baron Charlus have inspired endless discussion in formal academic circles and less formal ones, on Reddit and in the living rooms of friends. I saw myself in Elstir, the painter character who is a composite of Whistler, Monet, Harrison, a million other painters and Proust himself. In Elstir we see the mature artist, presented in contrast to Proust’s narrator, whose search for lost time is crucially also a search for his own artistic voice. 

In July, I felt as though I had finally found my artistic voice - with so much time freed up and so much beautiful, heavensent sunlight, all I had to do was concentrate on creating. The music I made is not half bad for an amateur. I found my skill as a painter improving. In a perfect world, I would still be dedicating my days to this. The “Peaceful Summer Nights” playlist would go on at night, we’d put ourselves to sleep to it, it’s one part smooth jazz, one part smoke and study mix. You’ve done your best. You’ve seen the sun. You’ve made things that you might one day publish. I felt like Elstir those days, the aging but still vital artist, the person who is perennially a student, but can easily make a teacher, if you ask the right questions. I go by Elstir online now. I try to access that part of my personality as often as possible, though, unlike Proust, I do not come from a background of means and therefore can’t make my own epic In Search of Lost Time analogue, or my own Guernica. With a universal basic income in place I could be that person, and I hope it happens in our lifetime. 

August - The Knocks & MUNA - Bodies

In August, Dennis came to visit us from Saskatoon, driving out in their car Heather. Heather smells like a grow show and is rammed with belongings in the exact same way that my mother’s car is. We went to the beach. We cooked. We smoked copious amounts of weed and shared music and went to bed drunk and happy. 

This song captures the feeling of that summer, and that trip perfectly. You are alone at sundown, just as the streetlights switch on, 9:05pm. Blue light from the neighbours’ TV flickers out into the street, and you’re fairly sure they’re watching The Simpsons. A skateboard grinds in the distance. You check your phone. You’re horny. You miss your friends. It’s another suburban summer. The sense of peace mixes with the dread, an uneasy combination. This will be over soon, who’s to say what comes next. Take your teenage regressive times when you can get them. You don’t know when they’re coming back. 

September - Modernlove. - Use Me

In September I returned to work after six months off, my longest time away from work since leaving university. I’m a program supervisor now, I run a group home for teenage boys. I have a lot of people asking me questions. I’m good at it, and part of me likes it, but I’m not painting or making music like I used to. I’ve had Marcel Proust’s biography out from the library for months, and I haven’t finished it. 

Modernlove are a copycat band for The 1975. The 1975 have been around for long enough now that their influence is written all over Spotify, and if you like The 1975 and engage with streaming platforms you will find Modernlove. The 1975 have a song called Chocolate, so naturally Modernlove did one called Liquorice. “Use Me,” though, takes that blueprint and goes in a different direction. It’s manic, hysterically anxious - a simp’s anthem. Where The 1975 maintain a baseline level of dignity, Modernlove abandon it completely. The narrator is making himself plain that he will accept the worst, most inhumane treatment his partner can dish out if only he’s allowed to continue to exist with them. The beat is all happy hardcore lunacy, the singer’s voice wavers and cracks. It’s extremely vulnerable. 

This is exactly how I felt being back to work. I was working 12 hour days. I was sitting in endless, very important trainings while dealing with a suicidal client and anxious staff and then reporting to a boss who seemed to think all my hard work was at best a normal work day and at worst pissing into the wind. Use me. I felt used. I made myself available for use. I waited for phone calls from clients at 10pm, who proceeded to tell me about the shits they were going to take when I begged them to stay in the program and away from their drug dealer friends. Use me. You work so goddamn hard to avoid squalor and misery, to keep it from the door, and here it fucking is at 10:00pm when you started work at 6:00am. Elstir has left the building. I’m a simp for money, the worst kind of simp there is. Keep dishing out the punishment and I’ll keep taking it. I have no other choice. CERB has ended. 

October - Charles Webster - The Spell (Burial Mix)

After all that stress, I took a week’s worth of stress leave. I am not the Sicknote Steven type normally, I haven’t had a family doctor since coming to Calgary, I haven’t needed one - the last time I was to a doctor before this year was in 2018, after I picked up flu from an airplane. When I went to the doctor, they took my blood pressure. It was through the roof, and the first time I was anything but low for my age and sex in my life. Why would it not be? I felt my heart jackhammering at my ribcage for three days straight, before I was able to pull myself together enough to operate a vehicle and carry on an adult conversation. 

This happened during the weekend of my birthday. I spent some time in a sensory deprivation tank, took mushrooms, went for dinner with masks on with a few very good friends. I painted. And at the end of my stress leave, I went to meet my boss for a showdown. I said what my boundaries were, and since then, I’ve had a fine time at work. It’s not sitting around the flat all summer painting but for now, it’ll do. 

This song sounds to me like exploration - exploring the same neighbourhood that the Knocks’ “Bodies” takes place in, but with a chill in the air and some colour in the leaves. The pandemic isn’t going anywhere, in fact, it’s about to play its ace. Halloween is cancelled. People were coming to me, asking me questions, but I was able to make space for myself in the liminal spaces I got to spend the whole year occupying up until this point. 

November - The Weeknd - Heartless

A few years ago, I had tweeted during the month of November, “I woke up from a 7pm nap and wondered if we’d already had New Year’s. God I hate winter”. This month was that feeling again, amplified by pandemic conditions and work exhaustion. As is typical for the shoulder seasons in Calgary, the weather vacillated from bitterly cold wintertime air to crisp autumn with no arc or sense of relief. Depression set in. In November I’d organized and was finally able to execute a hotel-room liaison with a friend I’ve flirted with for years. I played this song on repeat to pump myself up for the encounter - it’s a pimp anthem, teeming with sexual menace, crackling with possibility. 

The reality of the situation was not as The Weeknd described. We messed around a little bit. We went to the Canadian Brewhouse. We binged all of The Queen’s Gambit in one go. She bitched about the bathroom facing the bed. I flipped out a little when I couldn’t get the internet to connect. We ordered Skip the Dishes and got the evil eye from the concierge, who was fully aware that we were there to violate new provincial pandemic restrictions. C’est la vie. 

December - Fred again.. - Julia (Deep Diving)

As I’ve said many, many times, I’m not a fan of Christmas. I used to love it, right up until my mid-20s. Why would I not? I was an only child. It was all about me. I received extravagant gifts at Christmas, got days and days of time off, got to get drunk with my friends, hang out with my mom, watch movies. The thing they don’t tell you is that once you’re no longer a cute kid, Christmas takes on a dramatically different meaning. As an adult, there’s always someone coming around to heap extra work on you at Christmas, and insist that you perform it while wearing a stupid fucking sweater or a hat, and demand that you like it.

This year gave others a taste of my baseline experience of Christmas. Work parties conducted through Zoom, wherein tedious and impersonal games are played through apps, leave bad tastes in everyone’s mouths. It’s all very Ready Player One. The dystopia is fully here. But you have to do something. 

In December I let myself become more sentimental. I had an emotional conversation with my mother in which I talked about her relationship to memory and mine, which mirrors Proust’s. I’m in therapy and developing strategies to deal with my seasonal depression and get back to making art while still working. Fred again’s releases this year all feature spoken excerpts from conversations he’s had with his friends in virtual venues. “I’m deep diving into your emotions,” Julia says from afar, maintaining and developing a connection to someone she loves despite many obstacles. I’m depressed. I’ve been a crappy friend this month, I’ve left conversations on read, my sex drive is in the toilet and I’d prefer to be invisible. But I want to connect with you as best I can, in the limited capacity we’re afforded. 

2020 - The 1975 - I Think There’s Something You Should Know

One of the things I love about The 1975 is that their music is iterative, their songs follow plot threads that advance from album to album. On “Robbers,” the narrator, deep in infatuation, describes his lover as having a face straight out of a magazine. One album later the luster has worn off of the love object, and the face straight out of a magazine now just looks like anyone. 

“I Think There’s Something You Should Know” is described by Matty Healy as a direct sequel to their most famous song, “Somebody Else”. “Somebody Else” is emo R&B, it’s about addiction and identity, and about the ways in which one’s personality can come to be distorted by devotion to a substance or a person, and how one finds their way back to themselves once the drugs don’t work, or the perfect lover has become someone you hope to never see again. 

“I Think There’s Something You Should Know” builds on that theme, but this time, the conflict isn’t about a person or a drug. It’s the feeling of idealized performance versus lived reality, the dissonance that one feels in the middle of impostor syndrome. When I listened to this song on our acid trip in May, I pictured an idealized version of myself in a camel coat and a cashmere sweater, with new leather gloves and a clean black car. The song feels like good cologne in the way it envelopes and embraces the listener. It seems to be able to tell the future. The paradox, then, is that it’s all about self-doubt. “I don’t feel like myself, I’m not gonna lie,” Matty sings, fully aware that he’s forgotten what feeling like himself even is. The song’s narrator is someone who is functioning at the absolute top of their game while being completely sure that they have no business being where they are. 

The year has been a paradox, and it’s left me in a position reflected perfectly in these lyrics. In some ways I’m incredibly competent, in some ways I’ve moved past mental health issues that have set me back for years. But I’m emotional, raw, exhausted. Social media and COVID have given me ADHD, I can’t keep a thought in my head. I have no idea if the people I’m talking to think I’m right on the money, or completely full of shit. And yet, somehow, I am where I am, and the police haven’t arrived to cart me off to jail. My boss blows endless smoke up my ass when before I was terrified of her. I do what I say I’m going to do. I ask the right questions. I think there’s something you should know, and that’s that I think I’m wrong about most things. That I think people are worth our effort and that communities are worth building, but that individuals have the potential to do reprehensible, incomprehensible and unforgivable things. I’m beside myself with relief that this year is over, but I highly, highly doubt that next year is going to be some great leap forward. We have a lot of work to do, and I’ll help to the best of my abilities, but I need to be allowed to be alone, to decompress, to self-destruct as a form of recreation, and to create things. This year has traumatized me and all of us, and my post-pandemic brain is one that’s responding to trauma. In some ways, I’m dramatically better, and better off. In other ways, I’m sicker than I was. This is true of you too. Let’s talk about it. 

My favourite albums of the year:

The 1975 - Notes on a Conditional Form

Dua Lipa - Future Nostalgia

Pole - Fading

Ana Roxanne - Because of a Flower

Teen Daze - Reality Refresh series

Sparkle Division - To Feel Embraced

Jake Muir - the veiled hum of your voice

Moodymann - Taken Away

The Mountain Goats - Getting Into Knives

Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith - The Mosaic of Transformation

Sevdaliza - Shabrang

DJ Boring - Like Water

Actress - Karma and Desire

Avalon Emerson - DJ-Kicks

DaBaby - Blame It On Baby

Duval Timothy - Help

Velocette - Discotheque Saudades

Jex Opolis - Net Worth Pantha du Prince - Conference of Trees

Four Tet - Sixteen Oceans

Caribou - Suddenly

Megan Thee Stallion - Good Newz

Romeo Poirier - Hotel Nota

Southern Shores - Siena

The Weeknd - After Hours

Tensnake - L.A. 

Kylie Minogue - DISCO

The Avalanches - We Will Always Love You

Nonlocal Forecast - Holographic Universe(s?)!

My favourite songs of the year: 

Love Regenerator - Moving, Rina Sawayama - Comme des Garcons, Rina Sawayama - Lucid, Megan Thee Stallion - Savage (Diplo Remix), Phony Ppl ft. Megan Thee Stallion - Fkn Around, SG Lewis ft. Robyn & Channel Tres - Impact, The Midnight - Neon Medusa, Dua Lipa - Break My Heart (Moodymann Remix), Dua Lipa - Hallucinate (Tensnake Remix), Blue Hawaii - Feelin’, Tensnake - Strange Without You (Sunnery James & Ryan Marciano Remix), Disclosure ft. Mick Jenkins - Who Knew? (DJ Seinfeld Remix), A-Trak & Ferreck Dawn - Coming Home, Robyn - Baby Forgive Me (Floorplan Remix), Robots With Rayguns - IWD4U, Southern Shores - Estrisa, Lindstrom & Prins Thomas - Limousine Lies, Sophie Ellis-Bextor - Crying At the Discotheque, Hot Chip ft. Jarvis Cocker - Straight to the Morning, Bonobo & Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs - Heartbreak, Moodymann - Do Wrong, BT & Matt Fax - 1AM in Paris, Kiesza - Love Me With Your Lie, Tritonal ft. Linney - Electric Kids, Jessie Ware - What’s Your Pleasure?, Roisin Murphy - Murphy’s Law, Kllo - Somehow, DaBaby - Rockstar, Diplo, SIDEPIECE - On My Mind, City Girls - Jobs, Greg Foat - Yonaguni, HAIM - I Know Alone, Sassy 009 - Ghost Town, Yves Tumor - Limerence, RAMZi - couer dodo, Jayda G - Both of Us, Kygo, Valerie Broussard - The Truth, Kelly Lee Owens - Night, Dagny - Somebody, L’tric - 1994, The Japanese House - Chewing Cotton Wool, Amtrac ft. Lali Puna - No Place, Eris Drew - Transcendental Access Point, David Guetta ft. Sia - Let’s Love, Armand Van Helden ft. Lorne - Give Me Your Loving, Pet Shop Boys - Monkey Business, Pale Blue - I Walk Alone At Night, Yumi Zouma - Cool For a Second

[stoneblue1025]

KISS - Fort Wayne Coliseum - Dec. 26, 1975:

I was looking forward to this concert with great anticipation every day for a month. Fort Wayne usually hosted one concert per month. On the night of November 26, 1975 Black Oak Arkansas, Foghat and Montrose were playing a show the local Memorial Coliseum and my parents would not let me go. After all, I was only 12 years old and this was only a few years after Woodstock. There was no way my parents were going to let their 12 year old boy attend such a drug infested crazy atmosphere. But as I lay sulking in my bed that night with my very existence crashing down around me, WMEE, the local AM station that I listened to, announced the next concert. That's right, on December 26 the headline act was going to be KISS. I was flabbergasted. My new-found heroes were coming to my town. I immediately flew out of bed (top bunk) and ran downstairs to breathlessly ask my parents if I could go. I understand not letting me see Black Oak Arkansas, but this was going to be KISS. I'd have to attend or my life would end. Anyway, after deliberating for what seemed like an eternity, I distinctly remember my mom telling me her verdict. "We cannot let you go alone into that arena ( I think she actually used the term 'nut house') so Sonny ( my dad) will take you".

The day tickets went on sale, my dad took off work and went to the coliseum box office to pick up a pair. We could not take the chance that they would sell out so he had to go right when they went on sale. When I got home from school that day, I asked my mom if he actually got the tickets and where were the seats. She told me that he did get them. She said that he had two choices for seats. It was general admission with no seats on the floor. Or we could get tickets for the seats in the upper or lower bowl. You could only get one or the other. Either on the floor with no seats amongst the throngs of people ( but you can get as close to the stage as you can) or in the seats where it would be more comfortable. So, naturally my dad chose the floor. I knew he was awesome, but this move definitely sealed it.

After wearing out the grooves to KISS Alive on my Victrola record player for a month, the day of the show finally arrived. After several weeks of average winter weather, old man winter decided to show up on the 26th - the worst snow storm Fort Wayne had in a decade. 2- 3 feet of white stuff falling throughout the day. It was my first of many run-ins with Old Man Winter. To this very day, I hate his stinking guts. Most of the town closed up at some point during the day but the concert stayed the course and was planned to go ahead as scheduled. The arena was about 3 miles from our house. We got stuck about three times on the way. Each time, my dad got out of the car and dug us out while his little 12 year old KISS fan stayed inside the car, all warm and toasty. We finally got to the Arena as the doors were opening. It was the first time of many in my life that I heard loud and clear the chant "one, two, three, four..... open up the f---king doors!" at general admission concerts. I knew right then this night would be awesome. Once we got inside, my dad let me go down to the front of he floor while he waited in the concourse hanging with the local police officers. Police were normally used to supplement security at these small town concerts. Remember, this was only a few years after Woodstock. Concerts like this were still a relatively new concept, with a bad rep. I made my way down to the front, on Gene's side of the stage, right in front of the giant PA system.... just enough to give a great view of the stage. I was in awe of the enormity of everything. The sound system and lights back then were not supported from the ceiling but sat on the stage. The PA was like a huge black castle, a wall of sound. I remember how the songs sounded as they played over that PA pre-show .....so loud and great. I am pretty sure that it was at this time that I heard Sweet Emotion for the very first time. I also remember hearing Whole Lotta Love but I was already familiar with that one as my neighbor across the street had an older brother who had Led Zeppelin II and we used to sneak it out of his bedroom while he wasn't there and listen to it many times. So there I was, standing up against the front barricade, 12 years old, the huge stage and sound system right in front of me, Aerosmith and Led Zeppelin cranking at volumes I have never heard before, and KISS about to play live on that very stage a mere two hours away - I realized at that very moment that I had found my home.

The lineup was KISS headlining, Ted Nugent and the Amboy Dukes as the middle act and Mott as the opener. Ian Hunter and Mick Ronson had recently left Mott the Hoople and the band continued on with new replacements under the name "Mott". Anyway , the 7:30 start time finally arrived . Then 7:40, then 7:50. Since it was my first concert , it did not seem abnormal to me that the concert didn't start on time. Finally at about 8:15, the music was cut and a man stood at center stage. He said he was the promoter and had some bad news for us. He said "Pink wasn't well and stayed back at the hotel". Just kidding. Actually, he said that three of the four members of KISS were snowed in, in Toledo Ohio and would not be making it to the concert. He promised us that KISS would be returning to make up the show as soon as they could. Those in attendance could do one of two things. Stay and hear Mott and Ted Nugent. Nugent would play an extended set as he was now the headliner. Or two, leave now and get a voucher for a KISS ticket when they return to make up the show. After finding my dad, we decided to leave and get the vouchers. We did not know how quick KISS would be coming back and money was tight back then... even at $5.50 a ticket. So we got the voucher and left along with about a third of the arena, as was reported in the newspaper the next day. We got home around 10 o' clock. The wait for KISS to return had begun.

To be continued.

BTW, KISS did return as promised, on April 11, 1976. I will follow up with the amazing account of that night soon.