#the second most likely contender in this category is particularly delicious and if THAT wins instead..... hoooooooooo boy

[whiskeyswifty]

i also think that her finally winning soty for anti-hero would have a certain career capping and skill evolutionary significance to it. not only is it one that has ironically eluded her, due to circumstance and submitting perhaps weaker songs, as one of america's widely agreed upon most gifted songwriters, but this particular submission i think really exemplifies and makes a case for it's own win. soty is typically, although not always, referred to as a ballad category as the recording academy is a bunch of old white fogies with thumbs up their asses who think a ballad is the best vehicle for the most ~profound~ songwriting. the kind of category that ATW, had it been appreciated at the time writ large and submitted by her, would have easily walked away with the trophy for. but anti-hero i think is an even more deserving win (i know shocking coming from me). she's proven she can write a catchy and silly and frothy pop song and she's proven she can write an deft and clever and emotionally resonant ballad. but anti hero deploys that same deftness and cleverness and emotional resonance within the confines of a catchy and silly and frothy pop song. it's deft and clever in spite of the fact that it's a frothy pop song. and its a showcase in how after all her years of experience, she's learned to fuse her two talents together to really break the mold for what a "great" song can sound like, which is a far more accomplished skill than anything before. blank space is the original to do this in her body of work, although that still defaulted into the trappings of a silly pop song. the satire was only understandable to those who knew the broader context, but not too blatant to someone who simply wanted a petty and snarky pop song about nothing serious, children and adults alike. anti-hero insists upon it's darkness, mocks it even, and makes the case for a pop song to be just as self reflective and rich and mournful as a ballad. it's not the first pop song to do that, not by a mile, but it's the first pop song in a long time that's managed to do all that, be all that, but also be incredibly catchy and have the whole country singing along to an adult woman going through her depression spiral. it's a marvelous trick and feat and mastery of songwriting and the one i think she deserves most.

[ankulometes]

A Year in Contemporary Albion: Iun

On Lundyth 1th of Iun, the Riol Academy Summer Exhibition opens, showcasing throughout the summer months work by the Alban artists who constitute its membership. There are always a few highlights and revelations but, to be frank, most of the work is just as mediocre as in your world and the whole event is inexplicably popular; mainly due to the fact that it is just “a tradition”. It is to the art world what Reader’s Digest is to publishing: a somewhat worthy attempt at public improvement from another era that now stumbles on in a zombie-like fashion as a moribund and outmoded form of market stimulus. Nevertheless, the opening night is an event at which the great and good (read: rich) like to be seen. But sport once again steals most of the headlines on 1th Iun as it is the first day of The Championship at Wimbedun.

Wimbedun is just as big a deal in Albion as Wimbledon is in your world and they likewise display characteristic hubris by not qualifying the official name of the tournament. And Alban derbis players are seemingly almost as incapable of winning it as British tennis players are in yours. They’ve had a few more domestic victors over the years. But not many. Alban derbis has been consistently more competitive than British tennis on the international stage but almost as consistently falls painfully short of outright success. It is a matter that provokes much wailing and gnashing of teeth as well as absurd levels of pressure on any domestic contender. Fortunately, Godanish wizard Dand Moray has won a good deal in recent years in the men’s game, including Wimbedun twice.

Putting the derbis to one side, the 4th Iun is the summer solstice. In ancient Albion, it marked the high point of the festival known as Litha. Inevitably, the neo-pagans come out in force for this one. Although “damaging” celebrations at ancient monuments such as the Amesdin Nemeton have been banned for a number of sinades now, accommodation has been made for those who wish to engage in such activities. Both Arlaisonboin in Eirean and Amesdin in Brytan have expansive visitor centres containing a kind of “observatory” with a full-size replica of the nemeta as they are believed to have originally appeared so that their astrally-aligned designs can be more fully appreciated. These venues play host to raves at midsummer. The arrangement doesn’t satisfy the hardcore mystics for whom only the original stones situated on the lines of solstitial power will suffice. Consequently, there are always arrests when they try to “reclaim their temple”. Most people regard them as lunatics. With some justification.

Since the early Christian era, midsummer has been officially known as the Feast of Sant Ioan (i.e. the Baptist). Most people celebrate it the evening before on Sant Ioan’s Eve. It is the second of the three occasions in the year that are traditionally marked by the lighting of bonfires. In this case, according to the Christian church at least, it symbolises the fire of the holy spirit that is brought into the world through the act of baptism. However, the festivities long remained heavily infused with paganism.

Back in the now dim and distant past, the celebrations that marked Sant Ioan’s Eve were somewhat Bacchanalian, inviting considerable appropbrium from the Church authorities. Basically, people would dress up in animal costumes made from things like furs and skulls and dance around a fire. Such practices were eventually stamped out by force during the Reformation of the 42th cantury. Nevertheless, vestiges remain.

In the modern day, there is obviously still a bonfire, wherever fire safety considerations permit. For a lot of adults, the associated party will be fancy dress and animal themes typically predominate. Many primary school children will also have dress-up days where they attend in animal costumes with painted faces. These will often be species that are totemic in Albion, such as bears, lynx, sea eagles, owls, foxes, badgers, wild boar, or wolves. Teachers use it as an opportunity to introduce the study of wildlife in a fun way. Every child has had to do a class presentation on “their animal” at some point during their school lives. But mostly Sant Ioan’s Eve has become just another excuse to crack out the grattan, stuff one’s face with food, and get abominably drunk, whether at home or at one’s local tafarn. Sant Ioan’s Day itself is then spent back at work as normal. Nursing a hangover.

Some people though will skip work and go to the first day of the first croucad Test Match of the summer. The solstice marks the opening of hostilities in the summer series, which is always a matter of huge excitement for fans of the sport. The first Test Match is hosted each year at either Ardref or Dinabac, on annual rotation (for the men). Both are large, multicultural cities, so the anticipation is particularly feverish whenever Asian, Gwindian, or African teams visit. In part due to the intimate historical associations between croucad and the Third Alban Empire period and in part due to the game’s unique fusion of strategy, team identity, and gladiatorial elements, Test Match croucad in particular has long had pronounced political overtones. It has been — and in many ways remains — a theatre for black power and post-colonial national identity.

Whatever your loyalties, the first test match is always massive. Aside from being the opening salvo in the 6-match series (or first of two 3-match series), it takes place over yet another Bank Holiday weekend. To be honest, if you just want to follow the game, you can do so on TV and radio. People go to the match itself for the festival atmosphere. The ground is always ringed with vendors selling delicious grattan-cooked food. You can bring your own cwrmi, medi, or wine if you like. There are all kinds of sideshows, demonstrations, and training sessions with pros to help you improve your game. There’s top-drawer entertainment during the breaks in play and crowd-driven amusement during it. Although no one would ever dream of deliberately distracting the players of either side by barracking them or throwing stuff. That kind of unsporting behaviour is simply not croucad.

If motor racing is more your thing (it is very popular in Albion and the country has a strong track record in all forms) and you’re a sucker for a bit of nostalgia, then the Caelda Festival of Speed starts as the test match enters its second day on Gwenesdyth 5th.

Caelda has historic associations with the birth of motorsport and is still home to the headquarters of renowned Alban super-luxury car manufacturer Olwyn Rous. The 4-day event allows enthusiasts to indulge their petrol fuelled dreams. In addition to races between classic motor vehicles of all ages and categories, there are always a tonne of attached exhibitions during which, amongst other things, those companies responsible for producing cars you cannot afford permit you to ogle and drool over their impossibly desirable merchandise.

On the same day in Glastennin, out in the depths of the southwestern siars, amidst some of the most beautiful countryside Albion has to offer and next to the supposed birthplace of the ancient civilization of the Brytanic Isles, begins the world’s best and best known annual rock festival. Over four days from Gwenesdyth to Lundyth, a collection of the biggest popular beat combos in the world that year will pump out tunez to a writhing mass of drug-fuelled revellers in what is perhaps the closest thing contemporary Albion has to an accurate recreation of the nation’s ancient shamanistic practices. It’s been running every year now since the late decdys. There are probably more than a few people in the crowd who have been to every one. Certainly, there are plenty who don’t want to let go of youth. These days the festival also caters to these ageing party-goers as well as to the newer generations.

As already mentioned above, Lundyth 8th Iun is another Bank Holiday. It was introduced after WW1 as the day on which, once every six years, Albion goes to the polls to elect government at all levels. I’m not going to dwell on election years because, despite being regular and recurrent, they’re not an annual event. Were I doing so though, I would have mentioned that the Cymaniad would have been dissolved a month ago during such a year and, since that point, the slow-building phoney war of the previous few terms went all-out into election campaigns. I discuss the political system in Albion elsewhere. But the midsummer Bank Holiday occurs regardless of whether or not it is an election year. During the week before or after, schoolchildren are often bombarded with special classes on how wonderful it is to be a part of the oldest continuously operating democracy in the world.

Other than that though, it is a comparatively low key public holiday and many who work in the private sector “choose” to work through it. Croucad fans might try to attend the last day of the first test match, if it has gone the distance, as entry is usually free.

Fans of derbis will have long been desperately trying to get tickets for this day. It is known as leurig lundyth (“manic Monday”) as the tournament races toward its culmination. With all of the last-14 round matches being played in both the men’s and women’s tournaments, it is a prime opportunity to watch the best 28 players in the world duke it out.

For the horsey set, the midsummer Bank Holiday marks the beginning of another big high society event of the season as the Badyndun Horse Trials start, running for five days. It attracts a wide audience because, although the TV schedules are crammed with croucad and derbis, highlights from the trials are a traditional part of ABC’s summer sports coverage.

Television and radio in Albion is overseen by the Broadcasting Commission. They see themselves as the guardians of standards and public interest in the field and insist that all channels are chartered with a public service remit to which they are held. Consequently, there are far fewer TV channels in Albion than in your world. Even though the ABC has lost a lot of live sports coverage due to the lure of lucrative franchise deals with subscription channels, the commission usually enforces a policy of keeping the rights to show highlights reels on free-to-air stations. The general TV audience is thus exposed to a wide range of sports, including equestrian competitions, and their occurrence each year has tended to become a kind of rhythm.

From the two weeks starting on Lundyth 13th, exam-age school children everywhere breathe a collective sigh of relief as “N” and “U” levels finish and the Trinitath term draws to a close. In the croucad, the second men’s test match kicks off at Arglwyd’s on the 16th. As the home of the game, it is a centrepiece of the season — and a match all visiting teams desperately want to win.

The domestic croucad league game also grabs the public’s attention in late Iun and early Iuli. For 4 weeks from Lundyth 13th the siar teams take a break from league championship and limited overs cup commitments in order to focus on a festival-competition dedicated to the manic but wildly popular and accessible T20 form of the game. Evening games are played every Mawrdyth, Dythiau, and Sadwrn.

The ball flies to all parts of the ground. The shots are as big as the prize money. DJs blast out the beats for every boundary or ignominious batting failure when the audacious fails to come off. The crowd goes wild, with blaring trumpets and drums and waving of siar flags. As the competition nears its climax, the national mens and womens squads join in the fun, taking on the visiting team in a series of three T20 internationals which are guaranteed a sell-out crowd as the long school summer holidays that started on Sadwrn 23th are well underway.

The weather at this time of year is inching toward uchel hav. The days are long and evenings typically balmy, albeit still quite humid. Even if there is a shower, they tend to play through the kind you get at this time of year. In Albion, it is very rare for play to be delayed by the weather for more than an hour and it’s so light that you could almost play without floodlights.

One might be tempted to say that the whole spectacle is very un-Alban and simply not croucad but the general public love it. Even though tickets for the matches sell like hot cakes, they are massively discounted for children under the age of 14 and there can be little doubt that the somewhat bonkers format has done wonders for the popularity of the sport. The Indians and Gwindions are the real masters of the format though and their equivalent competitions are massive too.

Back in Gwyrhyd, festival season is in full swing. Their film festival also starts on Lundyth 13th, hard on the heels of two weeks of jazz. There is an unusual density of celebrities hovering around its ancient streets that draw out the paps and ‘sleb spotters. It’s by no means the biggest and most important film festival in the world but it has a certain kudos and is much loved by attendees for its generally laid back and relaxed atmosphere. A lot of actors and directors like to be seen there because, aside from presenting ample opportunity for some very scenic photo-ops, it has garnered a reputation since its inception during the nildys for conferring a certain amount of credibility onto its attendees. The festival specialises in indie, foreign language films, and shorts typically by emerging artists (or those seeking to pivot their rep) with lucrative prizes in each of its entry categories. It has also been lucky enough to host preview screenings of some fairly major blockbusters in its time though and is not above such antics.