#the slide collection series: 1996

[jarchaeology]

Avalon Club: West Hollywood, CA - September 19, 1996 - photographer: Hutchins / Michelson

📽the slide collection series 📽

✨currently the earliest identified paparazzi photo of jensen ackles ✨

jensen moved to LA on 9/1/96, 18 days before this picture was taken outside a club in west hollywood. previously, the earliest pap photo to surface was taken on 11/2/96 at an MTV rock the vote event. prior to starting this research blog, the earliest publicity photo the fandom had was from a movie premiere on 3/28/97.

[flagwars]

Video Game Flag Wars: Round 1

Now that the National Pride Fusion Flag Wars has ended, we can return to the Video Game Flag Wars! The prelims decided which flag would represent each series, so now the tournament contains one flag per series. This does not include mods and fangames, as there are multiple flags from Hearts of Iron mods and Roblox games in the tournament. As there are so many flags even after the prelims, there will be 32 polls in the first round rather than the usual 16. Let me know what flag you want to win! See the brackets below.

Round 1:

1. Crimson Cult Banner (Thaumcraft) vs. Flag (Roblox BedWars) vs. Salmon Run Flag (Splatoon)

2. Unnamed Flag (Lego City Undercover) vs. Atlantic Federation (Valkyria Chronicles) vs. Homestead Banner (Palia)

3. Middle Eastern Alliance (Squad) vs. Shadowkin (Raid: Shadow Legends) vs Bilge Rat Adventures Flag (Sea of Thieves)

4. Saker’s Flag (Fable) vs. Novistrana (Republic: The Revolution) vs. Arstotzka (Papers, Please)

5. San Andreas (Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas) vs. Kirin Tor Offensive Banner (World of Warcraft) vs. Alliance of Galactic Travelers (No Man’s Sky)

6. Black Revolt (Kaiserredux) vs. Aquileian Republic (Supremacy) (Equestria at War) vs. Rescue Corps Flag (Pikmin 4)

7. Tropico (Tropico) vs. Sons of Liberty (Metal Gear Solid 2) vs. Commune of Revachol (Disco Elysium)

8. Mawkin Flag (Metroid: Dread) vs. Calchaqui (Europa Universalis 4) vs. Kazan Military Okrug (Thousand-Week Reich)

9. King Dedede’s Flag (Kirby: Triple Deluxe) vs. Meat Flag (Slime Rancher) vs. Flag of the Crown (Cult of the Lamb)

10. Communist Australia (Victoria II) vs. Delian League (Imperator: Rome) vs. Ominous Banner/Illager Banner (Minecraft)

11. Patagonian Worker’s Front (Kaiserreich) vs. Castle Siege (Super Smash Bros.) vs. Yara (Far Cry 6)

12. Stag Beetle Flag (Animal Crossing: New Leaf) vs. Fortnite (Fortnite) vs. Livonia (Arma)

13. Gaul Úr (Red Flood) vs. Strong Badia (Homestar Runner) vs. Super Earth (Helldivers)

14. Alam Melayu (Rise of Nations (Roblox)) vs. Tiki Tak Tribe (Donkey Kong Country Returns) vs. Sea Slide Galaxy (Super Mario Galaxy)

15. Great Lakes Government (Kalterkrieg: Shadow of the Weltkrieg) vs. Principality of Kemerovo (The New Order: Last Days of Europe) vs. Joker Banner (Balatro)

16. Shadow Isles Clash Banner (League of Legends) vs. Rebel Corps, Phantom Thieves Version (Persona 5 Tactica) vs. Antarctica (3D Atlas (1996))

17. Generic Flag (Roblox) vs. Standing Flag (Dragon Blade RPG (Roblox)) vs. Zhu Xi's Legacy (Age of Empires 4)

18. Kitakami (Pokémon Scarlet and Violet) vs. South California (Cyberpunk 2077) vs. Watchers (Overwatch)

19. Avalar (Spyro the Dragon) vs. Union of American People's Republics (Red World) vs. Grey Warden Heraldry (Dragon Age: Inquisition)

20. Eusan Nation (Signalis) vs. Aurelia (Ace Combat) vs. Outer Wilds Ventures (Outer Wilds)

21. Columbia (Bioshock Infinite) vs. Sickle Moon Flag (Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker) vs. Eggmanland (Sonic Unleashed)

22. The Allied Nations (Command & Conquer: Red Alert 3) vs. The Rebellion (Just Cause 3) vs. Federation of the Americas (Call of Duty: Ghosts)

23. Great Lake Revolutionary Council (Extremis Ultimis) vs. Courland (Empire: Total War) vs. Columbia (Crimson Skies)

24. Pontiac Province (Judgement Day: Aftermath of the Red Flood) vs. Communist Iberia (Hearts of Iron IV) vs. International Workers' Armed Forces (Krasnacht: Twilight of the Gods)

25. New California Republic (Fallout) vs. Deep Hollow Valley (Night in the Woods) vs. Victory Flag (Fall Guys)

26. Zheng Fa (Ace Attorney) vs. Golden Deer Banner (Fire Emblem: Three Houses) vs. Warbanner (Risk of Rain 2)

27. Blue Flag (Halo: Combat Evolved) vs. Wario’s House (WarioWare) vs. American Collective (Twilight of the Anthropocene)

28. Niflheim (Final Fantasy XV) vs. Republic of America (Dustborn) vs. American Empire (Pax Britannica)

29. Corvus (Dead Ahead (Roblox)) vs. Banner of the First Fleet (Monster Hunter)

30. Fillydelphia Contingent (Balefire Blues) vs. Federation of Anrakan Isles (Suzerain)

31. Yartar (Baldur’s Gate 3) vs. Hurons (American Conquest)

32. Falkreath Hold (Skyrim) vs. Assassin Jolly Roger (Assassin’s Creed: Black Flag)

[ali-annals]

it was all by design ('cause i'm a mastermind)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Rating: G | Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ao3 | WC: 2.3k | TW: -

A/N: This is part of a series called The Eras Tour (Jasonette’s Version), a collection of Jasonette-centric fics I wrote for the Maribat discord server Maribat? Get In!’s 2024 Civil War event. Not beta’d.

Marinette schemes her way into becoming Jason Todd's girlfriend. He loves her more for it.

The crisp October breeze caressed the curls around the girl’s head, softly brushing them across her face with a cool kiss. She tucked them behind her ear, pinning them out of her eyes so she could better appreciate the night sky sparkling with diamond-like stars. 

The fresh air of the balcony was a paradise to Marinette, who had been in the stifling ballroom of Wayne Manor far too long. It was full of people, socialites from Gotham and celebrities from New York all wanting to schmooze with the Waynes and other more-influential-than-they 1-percenters.

The noise of the live music and clinking of crystal and boisterous conversation eventually drove Marinette to the relative peace of the muted balcony.

She gave one last lingering look at the stars before patting her hair and dress down, drawing in a deep breath as she put her hand on the knob of the balcony door.

The noise that had been muffled on the balcony was a shock to her ears and she immediately began making her plans to escape ASAP. She’d talked to everyone she wanted and needed to, had thanked her host and his butler, and had eaten her fill in appetizers. All her evening’s boxes had been checked.

Sliding into the shadows of the edges of the room, she began making her way to the grand doors of the exit all the way across the room when her vigilant gaze caught on someone.

He was in conversation with a small group of young men around his age, at the side of the room, his face shadowed. She could only make out his profile, but what she saw made her pause in her escape, trailing her eyes down his body. He wore a red dress shirt under a tailored black suit, the first two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up neatly to his elbows. She appreciated people who rolled their sleeves instead of just shoving the fabric up, especially on knits.

He laughed at something the redhead said, bringing his glass up to his mouth with a grin. Even from across the room, his laugh sent shivers through her; it was nice and warm, something she heard, focused as she was on his person.

His gaze turned slightly and met hers, then flicked back to his conversation partners.

A tiny bit piqued that he hadn’t even taken a second to appreciate how well her dress fit–which was her talking point for the night and something she was immensely proud of–she reminded herself that he may have a girlfriend or wife or boyfriend for all she knew.

With one last glance at him, memorizing his features in case she came across him at a future event, she continued on her path to the door. 

She had some research to do, and it was better done in the comfort of her fuzzy jammies and a glass of wine than on her phone in the shadows of a billionaire’s ballroom.

~~~

A night of research later, Marinette had filled a page of her notebook with what she knew about her new target, formatted as her usual client information sheet. The next three pages were filled with half-drawn-up plans and scribbled over strategies to get to know him better.

Name: Jason Todd

Age: 28

Birthday: 16/08/1996

Primary Residence: Gotham, NJ

Features: Black hair [white forelock]; light eyes [specifics?]; tan skin, warm undertone; 1.83 m/6’0”; trapezoidal body type; warm undertones & colours best suited to skin tone.

Contact Information: -

Social Circles: Martha Wayne Foundation 20th Annual Fundraising Gala…

Relation(s): Wayne Family of Gotham; Head Family of Metropolis.

Marinette loaded her photo software. She often sent her assistant to the events when possible if she was unable to attend, having her assistant photograph the event so she could later analyze the fashions. The camera focus was on the clothing, not the faces, but she still scanned through her files in case Jason had been caught in the background somewhere.

The results surprised her. He’d appeared more often than she expected, though always in the shadows or on the sideline, and only at events that were either Wayne-business related or were for fundraising or charity. Any simply-social events showed not a trace of him.

She opened her carefully colour-blocked and organized planner. How many events had she been invited to that she’d not yet RSVP’d?

~~~

The gala was in full swing by the time Marinette arrived, having rushed to it after finishing her commission at the last minute. It was a fundraising gala in New York for the branch of the Martha Wayne Foundation’s Family Founders mission there, and she hoped that she’d calculated correctly that Jason would be there.

The little research she’d been able to dig up on him had made it clear that he was very much the black sheep and wild child of the Wayne family, with no one ever entirely sure if and when he’d show up in places.

She was dying from curiosity about what he could be doing in between public appearances.  Whatever it was, she knew it would be fascinating.

She skimmed a glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and headed deeper into the crowd, approaching Chloe. If she was in the middle of the room with her old friend, she could scour all the corners at once to see if her prey had arrived.

“Marinette, you look gorgeous!”

“Thanks, so do you,” grinned Mari, taking in the shimmering green dress she’d made for her friend. “Have you been here long?”

“Only since the start of the party,” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Perks of being the head coordinator–you get to be there hours before and after the party happens.”

“Head coordinator?” Marinette looked at her friend in shock. “You didn’t tell me you got promoted!”

“I had to tell you in person, didn’t I?” asked Chloe, gesturing to her sparkling presence as if to say, “Look at me”. “Tina retired, so I was promoted last week. It’s a good thing I was already working so hard on this event, so I was prepared for everything.”

“Lucky you,” said Marinette, giggling a little at the inside joke. 

Chloe rolled her eyes fondly. “Are you ever going to get over making those stupid puns?”

“Not as long as you keep reacting so humorously to them,” she replied, turning a little to scan the room.

“Looking for someone?” asked Chloe, catching her wandering gaze.

“Just…can you see who RSVP’d?”

“Yes…”

“Do you know if Jason Todd said he’d be here tonight?”

Chloe looked at her admiringly, whistling lowly under her breath. “Dang, girl, you’ve got taste! I believe the Waynes simply RSVP’d for four. I don’t know who.”

Marinette wasn’t expecting it to be easy, but when had she ever liked easy? She’d been a magical superhero while she was still in lycee, for kwami’s sake! The thrill of the chase was something she relished, planning out her moves and organizing her target’s schedule and pickpocketing phones to delete texts-

-okay, when she puts it that way, she sounds a little unhinged and obsessive and stalkery, but she really wasn’t that bad! If they didn’t like it, she backed off and respected their ‘no’, and she (usually) only got her information from publicly available sources that didn’t even realize the help they’d given her. 

She just didn’t know how to initiate anything by any other way, having grown up scheming her way into friendships and relationships as easily as she breathed. A cleverly-worded plea here, a subtle cue she’d Pavlov’d into a friend there, and she was golden. Her lucky targets never even knew they’d just been played.

It had been so easy to out Lila, the little wannabe-manipulator. She couldn’t even research a believable untruth, or wait until her ‘friends’ had been lulled into trusting her fully before she overplayed her hand too fast, too much, too soon. It was always better to use little by little–it was more believable if they didn’t realise you’d been doing it for ages, like that frog-cooking analogy.

Marinette sighed faux-sadly into her champagne as she thought of her ex-classmate, whom she hadn’t seen or heard of in almost a decade. Knowing people was definitely the key to life.

Chloe nudged her arm. “The Waynes have arrived for their appearance. I think I see Todd among them.”

Marinette hummed an acknowledgement and drained her champagne, feeling like the bubbles were flowing through her blood as the thrill of the game began anew. Time to go on the hunt.

~~~

Jason Todd was indeed among the Wayne party of four, looking particularly edible in a well-fitted black suit layered over a black shirt. Marinette preferred to add colour and pattern to men’s suits when she could–why were they all so boring; that’s why she liked Jagged so much–but she had to admit the black-on-black really worked for Jason, upping the mysterious aura about him.

Making her way slowly through casual greeting, Marinette eventually arrived at a small circle of socialites chatting just beside Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Timothy Drake, and Cassandra Cain, who were mingling with donors.

Bruce glanced over just as Marinette brushed her long hair over her shoulder, leaning in to hear a socialite’s joke. Her laugh was interrupted by her name being called.

“Marinette! I thought that was you! Looking stunning tonight, although you always are, what with having a personal connection to designers, eh?” winked Brucie. 

“Bruce! Lovely to see you again. I see you’ve been cheating on me with Audrey,” she looked his suit up and down.

“When in Rome?” he laughed nervously. ���Or I guess, New York. Oh! My children! You must meet them!” Collaring his three children attempting to make a stealthy escape, he introduced her to the man she wanted to meet. “Mari, these are my second- and third-oldest sons, Jason Todd-Wayne and Timothy Drake-Wayne, and my daughter, Cassandra Cain-Wayne. Kids, this is Marinette; she’s the designer that made me that suit I love–the one from that Times photoshoot the other year?”

“It’s nice to meet you all.” She shook their hands, letting her fingers rest a little longer on Jason’s than the others. “Your dad is one of my favourite customers.”

“Why’s that?” Timothy tilted his head like a bird.

“He lets me use the fun designs I’m dying to try–all the colourful or ‘different’ ideas. His suits aren’t just a suit off-the-rack or hand-tailored, they’re a challenge and a pleasure to work on.”

“So you don’t like a plain black suit then?” Jason raised his eyebrow, a small smile on the edges of his lips.

“I didn’t say that,” she assured him hastily over his siblings’ snickers. “You pull it off very well.” I’d like to pull it off you, she thought. “Not everyone can wear black-on-black without looking like they’ve still not left their emo stage.”

Several glances were exchanged among the family. 

“Did you have an emo stage?” wondered Bruce. “I wonder what a fashion designer’s emo phase would look like.”

Marinette shivered. “We don’t talk about Emonette in my atelier. Anyways, it’s lovely to meet you all. Please ask your dad for my information if you’d like to step out of your shadowy comfort zone,” she winked playfully at Jason. “Well, I see Audrey waving me over, and now I have a bone to pick with her, Bruce. Ciao!”

With a wave, she left them, taking great pleasure in the feeling of eyes on her as she went.

~~~

“Marinette, why are you still up?”

She looked up from the embroidery she’d occupied her hands with while she waited for Jason to get home. “I decided there’s something you need to know.”

“Okay…” He settled onto the sofa beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. “What’s up, Pixie?”

“It’s about the start of our relationship…”

“Okay?”

“The whole thing was a ruse. I saw you at a party and you intrigued me, so I stalked you and planned out everything, every time we met at parties after that, what we talked about, even when you approached me it was because I’d planned for you to. I don’t know how to actually express interest in a normal, non-stalkery way. It’s only because I’ve planned it out and prepared for it that I act like I do. I manipulated you into liking me and being my boyfriend, but I can’t live with this secret anymore.”

Jason was silent for a few minutes, breathing deeply. Marinette didn’t dare to look at him, too nervous to find out if it was because he was trying to keep his temper in check.

“Mari, look at me.”

She glanced up, catching a smirk on his lips. She took a second, longer look. 

“Why are you smiling?”

“Mari, my innocent Pixie, I know.”

“What?”

“You know I do vigilante work, and I appreciate you waiting for me to tell you about it. Well, I’m the Red Hood. I was trained by Batman and the League of Assassins. My adoptive mother is the master manipulator of the League, and she taught me how to use it and recognize it. I’ve known from the first glance we shared at that party.

“You are absolutely a clever manipulator, Pix, and that’s honestly one of the things I like most about you, maybe because it’s familiar. You may have laid the groundwork for the beginning of our relationship, but you didn’t manipulate me into loving you. Know how I know? Because I love even the things you don’t, even your flaws, things you wouldn’t show me in case it ended your ruse. Well, that won’t work, because I’ve seen them and I love them and I love you, anyways. Good luck getting away from me, my Machiavellian mastermind.”

[cyarskaren52]

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Method Man Talks Acting And His Illustrious Hip-Hop Career On The Cover Of ‘Cassius’

by Shannon Dawson | August 31, 2023

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Duration Time1:57START CASTINGSETTINGSFullscreen

At the age of 52, Method Man is living life to the fullest and on his terms. The lyrical virtuoso and former Wu-Tang Clan affiliate reflected on his decorated rap career in an exclusive cover story with Cassius Aug. 30.

Even though he doesn’t like to be called a sex symbol, Meth looked like a complete snack on the cover of Cassius’ latest feature. For his big story, the Long Island native rocked a satin multicolored shirt that exposed his chiseled chest and big muscles. Meth complemented the look with a sleek pair of headphones and his signature glasses.

52 never looked so good!

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Opinions don’t matter to Method Man.

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The rapper’s youthful glow and “fine uncle” persona may be partly due to his positive views on life. While chatting with Cassius’ director of content Alvin Blanco, the hip-hop legend said that he doesn’t take himself too seriously, and it’s been his secret to longevity in the music industry. Now, Method Man has parlayed his powerful hip-hop resume into an award-winning Hollywood acting career, but some of his rap counterparts haven’t been able to do the same.

“I can’t speak to their stories or why they’re in the predicaments that they’re in, but I do know some of the pitfalls that come with the industry,” the rapper said of peers who are no longer in the music game. “A lot of them are self-inflicted by the artist themselves. There’s nothing like getting an ego-stroked man, but it becomes very addictive and when [it] isn’t up to par with your standards, you tend to slide into seclusion to the point where you become a recluse. When you start valuing other people’s opinion of you more than your own opinion of yourself, that’s when you have a problem.”

The hip-hop star said he never let the opinions of other people stop him from getting to the bag, and in the long run, it worked to his advantage. “The fact that I’m still here is a testament to my work ethic, and people fucks with me heavy, for real,” he added.

Meth made legendary strides pioneering hip-hop alongside his Wu-Tang group mates in the ‘90s. The clan was widely celebrated for popularizing the hard-core hip-hop genre coming out of the East Coast. On the collective’s debut album, Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers), his gritty authenticity and effortless charisma oozed over hits like “Protect Ya Neck” and his solo smash, “Method Man.”

On the heels of the album’s 30th anniversary, the star, real name Clifford Smith, has been amazed to see hip-hop’s growth over the years. “You seen how it went from a million-dollar business to a billion-dollar business. “Just know this, Hip-Hop sets the trend for a lot of the cultures. A lot of the fashion, whether it be Timberland boots or those ugly ass Balenciaga sock sneakers, Hip-Hop did that.”

Method Man’s solo debut came with the release of Tical in 1994, an album that showcased his undeniable talent and distinctive voice. Tracks like “Bring the Pain” and “All I Need” demonstrated his ability to seamlessly blend hard-hitting beats with emotionally charged lyrics, resonating with listeners on a deep level. The latter track, featuring Mary J. Blige, earned him a Grammy Award for Best Rap Performance by a Duo or Group in 1996.

The rapper is making strides in Hollywood. 

Method Man has been garnering praise for his stunning on-screen roles in popular shows like Power Book and Godfather of Harlem. In 2022, the multihyphenate won an NAACP Image Award for Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Drama Series for his depiction of famous defense attorney Davis Maclean in Power Book II: Ghost.

But Meth isn’t new to the big screen. In 1997, the East Coast icon scored some of his earliest roles in Cop Land and 187. He also appeared in Hype Williams’ iconic film Belly a year later. Surprisingly, Meth wasn’t too confident with his acting skills when he first stepped in front of the camera.

“In the beginning, I have to admit I only took roles that, ya know, were me, there wasn’t any acting involved whatsoever,” the “Triumph” artist confessed. “I was very green, and you can tell now it’s apples and oranges to where I am now. I decided to take it serious when I saw exactly what these actors go through just to get a part and to survive on a daily basis. For me, that is motivation enough to go through every step that I have to go through in order to give my best performance. And not just my best performance but my 110% effort to make sure that I’m not the weakest link on this set. ‘Cause there are people that show up hours before I do to make sure everything runs smoothly. Who am I to come unprepared?”

Now, he’s going for the big roles.

Method Man hopes Marvel’s big boss Kevin Feige will come knocking on his door for a role in the future. He’s a big MCU fan. The rapper gave props to Marvel’s casting team for giving French actor Omar Sy the role of Lucas Bishop in 2014’s, X-Men: Days of Future Past. Someday, he’d love to take on the role of Bishop.

“I was just putting it out there to see if I could hook something,” the 52-year-old hunk told Cassius. “Those guys at the MCU, they know their stuff. I haven’t had any problems with any of their casting choice so far. So whoever gets the job… I think Omar Sy did an excellent job as Bishop, but that was before MCU. If they chose him again, I think he’d kill it. There’s a few people out there. But if they’re willing to give me a shot, I’d go for it. Plus, I’ve done all the research already.”

Read Method Man’s full Cassius cover story here.

RELATED CONTENT: Method Man Ain’t With The ‘Suckash*t’, Not Thrilled With Beardless Photoshop

Categories: Celebrity News

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[ceealaina]

Title: Five Times Tony Wanted to Fall Into Rhodey's Arms and the One Time He Did Collaborator Name: ceealaina Card Number: 3088 Link: AO3 Square Filled: R1 - Image: Drinking Ship: IronHusbands/IronBros Rating: Teen Major Tags: Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: A series of bittersweet (or completely sweet) moments from Tony and Rhodey's long relationship together, spanning from MIT to the end of Avengers 1. (Written for a  fic swap with @rebelmeg! You can find her version here and should definitely read it IMMEDIATELY.)  Word Count: 3399

January 3, 1985

Tony closed the door of the cab behind him, stifling a weary yawn. There was an icy cold wind blowing and he shivered in his thin sweatshirt, slinging his bag off his shoulder and digging through for his dorm keys. He sniffled as he pawed through the few things he’d collected, telling himself it was from the cold air and not for any other reason.

Christmas had been a nightmare this year. Howard had apparently saved up three months worth of Taking Shit Out On Tony and hadn’t laid off him the entire time. His arm still ached if he tried to raise it above his shoulder. 

It had gotten bad enough that Tony had snuck out two days before he was originally due to go back, shoveling clothes and textbooks into his bag and apparently forgetting his jacket entirely. He had stopped only long enough to say goodbye to Jarvis before heading out and catching the last train of the night back to Boston. Where he was now freezing his balls off, growing more and more concerned that he’d left his keys back in New York. 

He finally found them in the very bottom of his bag. With a half hearted attempt to shove everything back in his bag he trudged inside and upstairs. He’d been planning to wallow for the next few days, and nearly had a heart attack when he walked in to find the room lit up and Rhodey unpacking a suitcase. Rhodey startled when the door opened, which normally Tony would have found hilarious, but he wasn’t in the mood tonight, half-heartedly returning the grin Rhodey gave him when he realized who it was. 

“Hey man, what are you doing here?” 

“Uhh.” Tony forced a smile to his face, rubbing at the bruise on his arm and remembering at the last minute not to wince. “Caught an earlier train out.” 

Rhodey nodded sagely, turning back to unfolding his underwear or whatever. “Your parents freaking out about the massive storm that’s supposed to be coming too?” 

“Something like that,” Tony mumbled. He dropped his bag with a clunk and sat down heavily on the side of his bed. He knew he should be unpacking too, or maybe just get some sleep -- he hadn’t had much of that in the past few days -- but he couldn’t seem to muster the energy to even lie down flat. 

“Hey.” 

Tony blinked his eyes back open to find Rhodey watching him now, the full weight of his gaze on Tony. 

“You alright?” 

His eyes were warm, eyebrows knit slightly in concern. He was looking at Tony in that way he had, like he already knew everything about him. He was wearing a t-shirt and Tony’s eyes caught on his biceps, pressing against the sleeves. He knew from experience that Rhodey gave the best hugs, and for a minute he wanted nothing more than to tell Rhodey everything, about his parents, about his dad, about just how terrible his Christmas had been. Wanted Rhodey to give him a hug and tell him it wasn’t his fault, and to know, just once, that he had somebody completely in his corner.

But in the back of his head he could hear Howard’s voice, calling him weak, telling him to be a man. So instead he just forced another smile on his face, doing his best to make it look real, even while he hoped that Rhodey would see through it and call him on it. 

“I’m good, man. Just tired.” 

**

December 27, 1991

Tony had never really thought about his brain that much. Everyone told him he was a genius, but for a long time Tony hadn’t even realized that he didn’t put things together the normal way, that he could do things in his head that most people could barely manage on paper. It was just the way his brain worked. 

Right now though, he really, really hated his genius mind. Hated that he knew immediately, without even having to think about it, that it had been ten days, 11 hours and 47 minutes since his parents had died. He couldn’t stop himself from making the calculation if he tried -- and he had tried. Not even three bottles of his father’s best scotch had been enough to stop him counting. 

From far away, Tony heard the doorbell ring, almost immediately classifying the sound as ‘not my problem.’ But then it rang again, and then a third time for even longer, like the person ringing it was holding down on the button, and abruptly Tony remembered that in a fit of irritation he’d sent all the staff home early, just wanting to be alone. It didn’t sound like the ringer was giving up any time soon, and so Tony slid off his bed, where he’d been staring aimlessly up at the ceiling, and started on the fucking journey for the front door, bracing himself for another round of his father’s business associates coming by with their condolences, people he’d have to smile at and play nice with.

Reaching the ornate wooden doors, Tony took a deep breath and pulled them open, blinking at the figure on the other side and feeling his heart climb up into his throat. “Rhodey?” he whispered. 

Rhodey looked exhausted, a couple days worth of stubble on his face, but he offered Tony a crooked grin. “Hey Tones. How are you holding up?” 

“What…” Abruptly Tony felt his lower lip tremble and scrubbed a hand over his mouth to hide it. “I don’t… How are you here?” 

Rhodey shrugged, like it was no big deal that he was here and not thousands of miles away with his shiny new Air Force promotion. “Took some doing, but I managed to get a few days off. Sorry it took me so long to get here.” He arched an eyebrow at Tony. “Gonna invite me in?” 

Tony nodded distractedly and took a step back from the door to let him in, feeling his throat catch. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered, afraid if he spoke any louder, his voice would break entirely. Rhodey dropped his bag on the foyer floor and looked at him again, eyes soft and comforting. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Tones,” he told him, voice pitched low to match. “I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but it’s gonna be okay.” 

He held his arms open for a hug, and Tony was ready to grab on and possibly never let go when there was the sound of a throat clearing behind him. 

“Tony, m’boy!” Obie exclaimed, and Tony let his eyes slide shut. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

Tony took a step back from Rhodey, offering a tight smile up at Obie as he made his way down the massive main staircase. He’d always loved his godfather, always appreciated the way he seemed to actually see Tony, didn’t just push him aside. But he’d all but moved in after his parents’ deaths, kept talking about being a man, and how he knew it was hard but the best thing for Tony right now would be to jump into the business, to start making weapons. He seemed to think grieving was unmasculine, somehow, and he wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t leave him alone. 

Tony couldn’t imagine what his reaction would be if he found Tony hugging a man in the foyer of Stark Mansion. 

Offering Rhodey a wince that only he would see, Tony turned away from him completely. “Obie, this is James Rhodes. My roommate from university.” 

***

April 7, 1996

Tony blinked up at the sky, watching the stars spin above him. There’d been people here before, warm bodies against him, everything feeling good. But they were gone now, he didn’t know when or where. It was quiet now, too quiet, the sound of his own breaths thundering in his ears as he floated. 

Abruptly he realized that he really was floating, lying in a pool of water, and he flailed, splashing and choking and getting water up his nose as he struggled to find a way out. 

“Jesus Christ, Tony!” 

There were suddenly strong hands wrapped around his forearms, lifting him bodily out of the water and onto the patio around it. “I’m fine! I got it!” he protested, even though a minute ago he very much had not got it. He stayed on his hands and knees, coughing a few times until he was steady enough to roll over and stare up at Rhodey, who was looking down at him with an unsmiling face. “I’m fine,” he said again, more subdued this time. 

“Right,” Rhodey drawled. “Says the guy who decided to go swimming in 54 degree weather in his pajamas.” 

Tony blinked down at himself, wondering when he’d gotten dressed, and Rhodey gave a long-suffering sigh. 

“Christ, you’re shivering,” he muttered. He reached down, hauling Tony easily to his feet, and this time Tony didn’t struggle against him. He loved how deceptively strong Rhodey was. He thought about telling him this, but Rhodey was already manhandling him toward the open doors. “Fuck, what did you even take?” he asked, half to himself. “No, don’t answer, I don’t want to know,” he added. “Let’s just… Get you inside and dried off and warmed up.” 

Normally Rhodey taking care of him made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, but he could hear the exasperation in his voice, felt hyper aware of how Rhodey’s hands were just a little too rough on his skin. It made something shrivel up inside his stomach, the last of his buzz disappearing entirely. He shivered in ways that had nothing to do with the cold water drying on his skin, going along mutely as Rhodey led him into the bathroom, stripped him methodically out of his dripping clothes and pushing him into a steaming hot shower. 

Rhodey was a little gentler when he called Tony back out of the shower, drying him off with a fluffy white towel, quiet and contemplative as he helped him into sweatpants and a t-shirt. 

“I’m sorry,” Tony told him when Rhodey handed him a warm mug of tea, and he hated tea, but he still took it without complaint. 

Rhodey didn’t answer at first, giving him a wry look and an extra ruffle of his hair that made Tony lean into his touch. “I just… I don’t know why you do this to yourself, Tones,” he told him, and he sounded so disappointed, so sad that Tony wanted to cry. 

He didn’t know how to tell him that he had to do it, how to explain that it was the only way he could make his brain just stop, to give him some quiet for just a few minutes. He didn’t know how to admit that he hated this version of himself too, that he wanted to quit this, stop being this person, but didn’t know where to start. He didn’t know how to say that he needed help. 

He stared at Rhodey’s arms, wishing he’d wrap him in a hug, tell him it was okay and that they would figure it out. Thought about how nice it would be to have someone in his corner again, someone on his side. Then he lifted his gaze to meet Rhodey’s. “I’m sorry,” he offered again, scratching at the side of his neck. 

There was no hug, no warm, comforting hold, just a quick pat on his shoulder. 

“Come on, Tony. Let’s get you into bed.” 

****

February 13, 2009

Tony shifted uncomfortably, fighting back the urge to grimace as he felt his dress shirt stick to his armpits, the expensive fabric wet with sweat. It was ninety million degrees out here, the sun blazing down on them, and he was stuck wearing a three piece suit, talking up his dad, and knowing Rhodey was mad at him.

He fought the urge to sigh in relief as the cooler opened and he picked up the glass of scotch, icy cold in his hand. Still talking, he caught Rhodey’s eye, holding the glass up to him in a vague approximation of a toast. Rhodey looked away.

The truth was, Tony hated everything about this. All the glad-handing and ass-kissing just made him feel gross. It reminded him of his father and the ‘business meetings’ he used to listen in on as a kid, a bunch of men smoking cigars and drinking too much and making comments about his mother that had made Tony feel all squirmy and sick to his stomach. He hated having to do the same thing now, and hated that a presentation without reference to Howard Stark wasn’t considered a success. He knew he made a good show of it, that he hid the stress that knotted his stomach perfectly. But if he had his way, all of this would be left up to Obie, and Tony would be free to just hide away in his lab and build things. 

But he was Tony Stark, and apparently that wasn’t an option. 

He was just sliding into the back of the humvee when Rhodey came up, calling his name. 

“I’m sorry,” Tony told him, and it was childish, and retaliatory, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “This is the fun-vee. The hum-drum vee is back there.” 

He knew Rhodey as well as he knew himself, so he didn’t miss the way Rhodey faltered for just an instant before he told him ‘nice job,’ his face falling as his attempt to make nice was shoved back at him. Tony didn’t know why he was like this, why he constantly had to lash out and hurt the people that he loved the most. Rhodey wasn’t quite looking at him, and for a moment Tony wanted to tell him how sorry he was, to grab his arm and pull him close and hug him tight, and tell him he didn’t mean it, it was this place, and these presentations, and to please just take him home. 

But they were in the middle of a military installation, surrounded by high-ranking officers, and Tony could just imagine how well that would go over for both of them. Bye-bye business deal. The apology would have to wait a couple more hours, until they were back at the base and could steal a moment of privacy. 

(When the humvee exploded, and Tony was panicking and reached for his phone to text Rhodey, it wasn’t to ask for help, or back up, or a way out. All he could think about was telling him he was sorry.) 

*****

May 29, 2010

Tony wasn’t drunk. 

He knew he looked like it. He was acting like an absolute asshole, the kind of raging party drunk that he hadn’t been in a very long time, but he was fucking dying, and between the poison slowly seeping through his entire body, and the knowledge that this would be his last birthday ever, it was so easy to let himself fall into the Tony Stark Playboy role, to do what everyone was expecting him. Was it so wrong to want to have a little goddamn fun before he died?

Except that he wasn’t having any fun at all. This wasn’t even how he’d wanted to spend his birthday. He’d wanted to sneak away, find somewhere quiet, just the people he loved around him. If he’d gotten Pepper on board he knew he would have been able to convince Rhodey too. But Pepper had quite reasonably  said no, and so a huge birthday blow out it was. 

It was probably for the best anyway. If they’d all been together like that, if it was the last time he’d get to just be with them, Tony didn’t know if he would have been able to keep himself from admitting to everything. Of course, now Pepper was absolutely livid with him, but that was probably for the best too. 

If he kept pushing them away, kept pissing them off, maybe they’d be less mad at him when he went and died on them. 

And then Rhodey was there, in the stolen War Machine armor, furious and gorgeous, and maybe it was the palladium poisoning, or maybe Tony was more drunk than he realized, but he didn’t even notice the room clearing out around them. Something in him softened at the sight of Rhodey, even as angry as he was, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from confessing everything. It would be so easy to just blurt it all out, and then maybe this terrible weight on his chest would go away. Rhodey would understand why he’d been so impossible lately, he’d forgive him, hug him, tell him everything would be okay. And maybe, with help, it actually would be okay. Maybe he didn’t have to die.

And he was definitely more drunk than he’d realized, because then he snorted as his brain caught on the image of Rhodey trying to hug him in the suit, the sound the metal would make as they clanged together, and just like that, the moment was gone. 

*

May 4, 2012

They’d made it back to the tower, they’d apprehended Loki and collected the tesseract, and even handled the whole snafu with Alexander Pierce and his wealth of control issues. Tony was on his way to finally try shawarma with his shiny new team -- the term ‘team’ still making him shudder a little -- when there was a loud whine from the sky. 

“Oh,” Tony said, immediately recognizing the noise and stopping dead in his tracks. “Oh, no.” 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rogers -- Steve -- throw him a concerned look, immediately shifting into a defensive mode, but he didn’t have time to explain before War Machine was slamming into the slightly crumpled sidewalk in front of them. Tony pasted on his most reassuring smile as Rhodey straightened back up. 

“Hey Honeybear.” 

The faceplate snapped open, and wow, Rhodey was pissed. 

“Hey Honeybear?” he repeated. “Hey Honeybear? That’s all you’ve got to say to me? Are you fucking kidding me, Tones?” 

“I love you?” Tony offered, wincing when Rhodey’s nostrils flared. 

“What. The. Fuck. No call, no text, no, ‘Hey Rhodes, I know I promised I wouldn’t do this anymore but I’m gonna go fight some goddamn aliens.’ I had to find out on the goddamn news while I was on the other side of the planet.” His fists clenched in the armour. “That was the longest flight of my goddamn life. I had no idea if I was gonna get here in time, no idea if you’d be okay. And then I had to watch you fly through a black hole holding a nuke, and then watch you fall back to the ground, and I didn’t know if I’d get to see you again.” His voice cracked and he looked away a moment, blinking rapidly. “You can’t do this to me, Tones. You promised me you wouldn’t do this anymore. Stop trying to kill get yourself killed! Or at least stop trying to get yourself killed when I’m not there to watch your back. You pull some shit like this again, and I swear to god, I’ll kill you myself. Then I’ll bring you back to life just so I can kick your ass!” 

He stopped then, breathing heavy, and Tony felt his throat thicken as they just stared at each other for a long moment. Then Rhodey reached up and actually pulled the emergency release on the armor, letting it fall to pieces around him before he strode the two steps necessary to close the distance between them and wrapped thick arms around Tony’s back, pulling him in for a hug so tight that Tony’s bruised ribs protested. He made a stifled noise that was almost a sob as he let himself go limp in Rhodey’s arms, feeling like he could breathe freely for the first time in days. His arms wrapped hard around Rhodey in return as he finally let go of all the stress, of the fact that he’d gotten closer to death than ever before, and let someone else take the weight for a minute. 

“It’s okay, Tones,” Rhodey whispered in his ear, softer now, for only Tony to hear. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, I’m here. We’re gonna be okay.” 

@tonystarkbingo

[samsegrist]

Bob & Sam Part 1: The History of Rock n’ Roll and the Gift of Awkwardness

The mid-’90s were a weird, but maybe perfect, time for an awkward nerd growing up in rural Nebraska to get into rock n’ roll. By that point, the genre of rock was over forty years old. The ‘90s saw the rise of hip-hop, electronica, rap-rock/nu-metal, third-wave ska, and the swing revival vying for the youngster’s ears and eyeballs. The World Wide Web was in its infancy and MTV still played music videos regularly. 

Once I had my epiphanic experience in the summer between seventh and eighth grade (of which I’ll write about in Part Two of this series), I knew I had some catching up to do if I were to be more than proficient in my domain. Besides subscribing to Guitar World and raiding my father’s vast record collection, the number one way I dove into rock n’ roll history was by buying dozens and dozens and hundreds of compact discs at On Cue, the solitary corporate retailer of multimedia for the entire panhandle of Nebraska. It was one of several chain stores such as Sam Goody, Sun Coast, and Tower Records that have as much cultural presence in 2020 as the works of Ozymandias. How strange it is to think that there were once publicly-traded corporations who bolstered their quarterly earnings reports through the physical sales of expensive shiny, plastic discs in thin, plastic squares. I was such a regular at On Cue in those formative years of adolescence, that the manager--her name was Traci--knew me by name before I hit high school. She could always count on me for a sale. At that time, she seemed quite grown-up and worldly, but in reality, she was probably a world-weary 22-year-old who had not yet found a way to escape the stultifying ruralopolis of western Nebraska. Where is Traci now? She and I both share a certain kind of workplace history. I was once a Blockbuster Customer Service Representative, so she and I are both former employees of defunct business models that seemed fun, hip, and cool at the time. On Cue and Blockbuster were the two primary ways people in our hometown acquired movies and music. Traci must be closer to fifty than forty now. Though I am sure she and I conversed back then about what music she liked, my memory jar containing those conversations is as bare as the “lone and level sands [that] stretch far away.”

Anyhow, one day back in 1996, my mom and I were shopping at On Cue, and I saw a ten-part VHS documentary set called The History of Rock n’ Roll. This blue cinder block of tapes looked just like what I needed to get caught up on forty years of music. I believe the original retail price was something like $120, which adjusted for inflation today would cost $196.09, almost twenty dollars a tape! No wonder those giant companies were raking it in before being slayed by Napster, iTunes, Netflix, and YouTube. I remember my mom haggling with Traci to see about getting a lower price, but there was nothing she could do. (Thank you, Mom, for still purchasing the set and contributing to my development as a musician!) I enthusiastically watched every tape in the series and took feverish notes of every artist and song that I should check out, and perhaps learn to play on the guitar. This was my introduction to singers and groups like Fats Domino, The Kinks, Buddy Holly, Marianne Faithful, Credence Clearwater Revival, the Clash, and the Sex Pistols.   There was one musician though, a famous one, that I wasn’t so sure about. This folkie guy, Bob Dylan, his stuff didn’t rock. His attitude on camera didn’t seem particularly rock star-ish, even though I totally see NOW there is such a breezy cool to his aloofness. And that voice was so strange and off-putting.  But as the tape rolled on, there was a B & W clip of him playing a bluesy tune with some really square rhymes: “It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding).” And it struck me with a strange kind of logic that only appeals to a young, insecure soul. See, when I started out on my guitar-playing journey, I wanted to be Slash.  I wasn’t anywhere close to being Slash. For one thing, I didn’t have the top hat. I didn’t have the hair. Or the Gibson Les Paul. Or the Marshall JCM Slash Signature 2555SL 2-Channel 100-Watt Guitar Amp. Oh, and I also couldn’t play four chords with the same strumming pattern twice in a row… ...but when I heard this Bob Dylan guy, who was somehow, inexplicably, included on this $120 ten-tape documentary series with all these other musicians who seem to have the talent, presence, and sound of being rock stars, something clicked in my mind. I thought: “Huh. Well, that guy’s voice isn’t that pretty, but he sounds clever and he’s playing solo. Maybe I can play solo and sing until I get a band together.” So, that’s what I did. And at the 1996 Haig Country School Talent Show, I performed as a singer-songwriter for the first time ever. I even gave a shout out to Bob before I proceeded to dazzle the audience with the brilliance of searing slides on my Stratocaster(-copy) guitar and tickle their brains with peculiar lyrical puzzles. See for yourself. Uh, yeah, so....every musical journey has to start somewhere, right? And history was made that day, and I owe it all to Mr. Robert Zimmerman for blazing the trail of rock n’ roll awkwardness.

I’m still catching up. The next installment of this occasional series of essays concerning the enigmatic and ethereal influence of Bob Dylan on my quarter-century musical journey will focus on the success and popularity of other artists covering his songs. That forthcoming installment is tentatively titled “The Dylan-esque Quality of Elasticity.” Thank you for reading.

[theuniversitychallengereview]

UC 49.7-49.10

Every so often I manifest an incoherent plan to stop watching YouTube, borne out of some inchoate idea to do with productivity, but then I’ll watch a video so mundanely profound and inspiring that gives me more of a creative boost than any amount of time I would save by not watching 20-minute explainers on Game of Thrones lore. On this occasion that video was this, on the toolbox fallacy.

Simply, as the Passion of the Nerd puts it in his video, its the idea that one can’t do (x), until one has (y) - or, the lie one tells oneself in order to put off doing something, whatever that something may be. In my case, as is so often the case, the (y) is time. I haven’t written a blog for early two months, and in that period I told myself repeatedly that I was just waiting for that big long stretch of time where I could sit down and get everything done at once. 

But that never happens, and the longer you go without starting, the bigger the pile gets, so eventually it becomes impossible to get through everything at once without a parcel of time so monstrously huge it is terrifiyng in its own right. 

And thats where the fallacy comes in - you don’t need everything to be perfect in order to get started, and once you’ve started, you don’t need everything to go perfectly either. You just need to start. So lets get started.

Episode 7 - Jesus, Oxford vs Manchester

I live in Manchester now (aside: before I got my job here I applied for a PhD at ManUni with a guy called Dr Kiss, a sliding doors moment which could have resulted in my failing to qualify for a University Challenge team for a record eight times in a row, assuming it was a three year doctorate), which should make them my second team, but to be honest they’ve probably held that title for a while anyway. Like Michael Schumacher in his glory days, or Roger Federer in his prime, the University of Manchester produced consistent levels of supreme performance in the Challenge between 2005 and 2014 that gained them many fans, myself included. 

They reached nine out of ten semi finals in that time, and brought the fight to the Oxbridge duopoly with four series victories. Jesus haven’t had anywhere near as much success in the Paxman Era, but won the penultimate Bamber series against Imperial in 1986.

Manchester are mascotted by a bee, the buzzy symbol of the city; and Jesus are sponsored by a jumper? Thats what it looks like anyway, it might just be a bit of draping with the college logo on it. A lot of the Oxbridge teams do this, but there may as well be nothing there because its pretty half assed. 

Its the Jumpersquad who unravel the night’s first clue, with Cashman taking the ten points for the Cashmere Collective. Manchester equalised with the next Starter, and moved into the lead with a full set on the third. A delightful picture round on Premier League football team finishing positions followed, but Manchester could only manage one (I took the hat-trick, naturally). I always enjoy it when the setters put the sports questions into inventive UC formats.

The Mancunians would get into triple figures before Jesus could build on their opening points, but two Starters in a row got them out of the quagmire, and a third, the music round, brought them within thirty points again. However, they were helped out a little bit by Paxman allowing ‘They Must Be Giants’ in place of ‘They Might Be Giants’. I guess accuracy doesn’t matter as much when its merely pop culture.

This would prove the end of Oxford’s comeback though, as Manchester surged ahead with eighty five of the next hundred points to seal the victory with plenty of time to go. They must have known they had it in the bag as well, because at this point they sat back and let Jesus race for a high scoring loser spot, which they may well get.

Final Score: Jesus, Oxford 145 - 185 Manchester

Episode 8 - Durham vs Trinity, Cam

Durham reached the semi finals last series, the third time they have done so since they won their only title of the Paxman Era in 2000, having also claimed a Bamber Trophy in 1977. Trinity won under Jeremy’s stewardship in 1995 and 2014, along with a victory in 1974, making this a match-up between two of only three teams (the other being The Open University) to have won the Challenge in both of its iterations. 

Adding further weight to the not-so-mythical myth that Durham is a surrogate for Oxbridge, the Northern team have also got a jumper-y object as their mascot (at this point I have realised that there is a proper word for what those things are, but I’m in too deep with this jumper thing. Is it just a banner? A sigil?). I’m glad to see that Trinity have tried though, and are proudly displaying what looks to be a hand-knitted bear (possibly Sooty from Sooty and Sweep?).

Durham charged out of the blocks with four of the first five Starters and ten of their first twelve bonuses. Trinity would have to wake up soon if they didn’t want to get blown completely away. Fortunately they heard their alarm clock when it next went off and in the blink of an eye they were ahead. 

Wait, surely not... *checks notes* No, I was right first time round, following a 90-20 opening stint, Trinity went 80-0 to turn the game on its head. Now it was Durham’s turn to feel shell-shocked, but they took the next Starter and we were level again. A hundred each. The game was being played like rugby, with one team smashing forward until the momentum could be stopped, at which point the tide would flo the other way. Scintillating quizzing.

The turnovers started coming faster, with a frenetic back and forth developing. It was Trinity who finally managed to stamp their authority on proceedings, opening up a significant lead with only a few minutes remaining. Durham would need to work even quicker than in the early stages to add further topsy-turviness to this topsy-turvy match, but they couldn’t manage it. A brief spurt at the death may however be enough to drag them into the play-offs.

Final Score: Durham 145 - 200 Trinity, Cam

Episode 9 - LSE vs Courtauld Institute of Art

Like I said in the introduction, the longer you leave something before starting, the more difficult it is to start because of how much you’ll have to do once you start. Another issue with this blog in particular, is that the more you have to do at once, the more difficult it becomes to not just write the exact same things over and over again. If I do one per week then even if I do repeat myself word for word then I don’t realise because seven days if far too long to remember anything for, and ignorance is bliss etc. With a big batch like this one then it becomes painfully obvious how many times I use the word Starter, even if it is somewhat necessary.

Oh well, lets start with a recap of the two teams previous appearances... LSE made the final in 1996, losing a high-scoring match against local rivals Imperial. They made the semis two years later, and the quarters in 2009, meaning that they’ve been elimiated at every stage of the competition apart from the second round. For Courtauld, it would be a success to be knocked out at that stage, having lost their only two matches, in 2015 and 2018.

Courtauld took the first points of the evening with the amusing fact that the Nobel Peace Prize hasn’t been awarded on a number of occasions due to a lack of deserving recipients (could they do the same with the British Prime Minister?). LSE fumbled a science starter, leaving the board (in this case the circuit board which makes up the buzzers) wide open, but Courtauld can’t even guess, which amuses Paxman no end - “they don’t study a lot of that [at an art institute], do they?”.

They know Shakespeare though, and take the picture Starter on one of his ‘lost rhymes’. The match ambles on slowly, at a far more leisurely pace than last weeks (a good thing about this batching is that I can reference the previous games with the confidence that I’ll be understood), and its Courtauld who are ambling slightly faster than their London counterparts.

With a few minutes remaining, LSE decde to give it a go, with Engels cheekily waving Paxman on after another science Starter was left unanswered. I just spent about fifteen minutes trying to make a gif of this, but the websites kept crashing and the one I did make was only loading as a picture here. So if you can just imagine it that would be great.

Final Score: LSE 90 - 145 Courtauld

Episode 10 - Goldsmiths vs Southampton

Goldsmiths lost on their first Challenge appearance, and made it to the second round last year, the only other time they’ve made it to the televised rounds. If they continue their current trajectory they’ll make it to the quarter finals this time out, which is the furthest their first round opponents Southampton have made it in the Paxman Era, in 2014.

The Southampton mascot, a fluffy deer, has fallen off of the table between the middle players and has consequently gained some camoflague so you have to squint to figure out what it is. I don’t know if it was placed there on purpose, or if they simply didn’t notice that their mascot resembled that scene from Bambi. Goldsmiths have a teddy bear who is wearing graduation robes, indicating that they award degrees to cuddly toys - where will the liberal agenda take us next?

Paxman informs us that Goldsmith’s Sibley hails from the same Canadian town as human PA system Eric Monkman, and when he introduces himself you can detect a similar lilt to his accent, but without the sense that you’ve accidentally sat on the volume button. 

It is he who takes the first Starter of the evening, and indeed the second too - perhaps he does bear some more relation to his noisy neighbour. Goldsmiths took two more on the bounce to go 70 points clear. They were unlucky not to be further ahead, having guessed wrongly between both York and Leeds and Southampton and Portsmouth on the picture round (with no other clues its pretty hard to tell the difference between 20 miles on an unannotated map).

Maybe it was the mention of Southampton (and its misidentification) that woke the Southern side up, but they claimed their first points on the next Starter, along with two bonuses on the Lake District that I knew too, but only because I was literally in Windermere at the weekend.

Once they’d figured out that you need to buzz in and answer questions in order to win the game, Southampton were actually pretty good, and their confidence seemed to grow with every point they put on the board (in this case the circuit board which makes up the - hang on, I’ve already done this one, haven’t I? See, I told you this whole repeating malarkey was difficult), and they polish up two of three bonuses on haikus which describe chemical elements (I missed the explanation of the question format when I watched this the first time, so was astounded that they had even been discussing anything with any conviction. “Just doing your job holding plants together. No fireworks, no fuss”. I mean, what is that on about?)

In fact, just as Southampton remembered how to play, Goldsmiths forgot, and they only managed to shake themselves of this malaise twice more for the rest of the match, allowing Southampton to canter away, mostly unchallenged. 

Final Score: Goldsmiths 95 - 175 Southampton

Phew! That was a big one - well done if you made it all the way to the end. I still have two more to catch up on, but I haven’t even watched those episodes yet so I’ll just do them as regular posts, hopefully tomorrow. 

I’d also like to give a huge thanks to Tough Soles who are supporting me on Patreon! (sorry for falling so far behind - I’ll catch up soon)

[vladfromparis-blog]

Just for fun : Goofs from Call Me by Your Name ( source :  www.regmovies.com )

In the final scenes the Hanukkah hanukkiah is lit incorrectly for the 7th night. It is customary to place the candles on the right side of the hanukkiah. The missing 8th candle should be on the left side.

The position of Elio's hands change in each edit during the first dinner party.

In the final shot of Elio at the fireplace, a housefly can be seen crawling on his shirt. Flies don't live long enough for it to be in the house that time of year, when snow has fallen (and during Hanukkah).

During the dance party, when the DJ changes the song to "Love My Way," the girls in the foreground react in excitement before it's possible to even register what the new song is.

During the foot massage scene, Elio's arm position changes drastically between cuts.

When prof. Perlman is showing Oliver the colour slides of Greek statues sent from Berlin, the 4th one is the 'dancing satyr' which was discovered in Sicily in 1998 (the statue is displayed in a museum specially built for it in Mazara del Vallo in Sicily), while the film is set in 1983.

Elio wears a watch that appears to be the ubiquitous Casio F91-W, however this watch was not introduced until October, 1989.

Throughout the entire movie Oliver wears a Star of David necklace. In the final scene where we see Oliver, saying goodbye to Elio at the train station, he is not clearly seen wearing the Star of David necklace. No explanation is given for why he would take it off or not be wearing it. Though it's very very hard to clasp a glimpse of it due to the way the shirt is buttoned up, there are a few split seconds where you can see the necklace is definitely on his neck during that scene.

In one scene just outside the Perlman's house, it is possible to see three cans of Illy coffee; in 1983, the design of the cans was different: shorter and larger. On top of that, the Illy logo displayed on the cans on display was created by James Rosenquist only in 1996.

Continuity error after Elio grabs Oliver's crotch. As shot from the front, Oliver removes Elio's hand with his left hand. Cut to the immediate continuing shot from the rear but Oliver now has Elio's hand in his right hand as he sets Elio's hand back on Elio's knee.

The Persol sunglasses Oliver wears throughout would have had a 4-barrel "Meflecto" temple in 1983; only after Luxottica bought the company in the 2000s did they reduce the 649 to 2 barrels, which is seen in the film.

This film gets the cars right except for the Alfa 90 released in 1984 whilst it's still 1983 in the film.

In the Hanukkah coda at the end of the film when Elio enters the kitchen and exclaims "Oooh, latkes!", Elio reaches down and takes two latkes from the stovetop with his left hand and exits the kitchen with the latkes in hand. Cut to Elio in the hallway outside the kitchen, no latkes in hand.

A furniture for audio compact discs could be seen in the room of Elio. Cd's was only confidential in summer of 1983. The first audio Cd player was marketed by Sony in 1982. CD's become massive in 1985.

As soon as Oliver's train has left the station of Clusone, Elio calls his mother on the phone, asking her to come and pick him up. The train station of Clusone was a bus only station by 1983, as the railway line of Valle Seriana (in the province of Bergamo) closed down in 1967 to be substituted by a bus line.

A furniture for a collection of compact disc could be seen in Elio's room. Cd's were trademark by Sony at the end of 1982 but became massive during 1985. In the summer of 1983, it would be hard to get that collection of CD's.

The piano is a C. Bechstein, as can be clearly identified by the distinctive design of its legs and its cover, but in the only close up of the keyboard that shows the brand it can be read Bösendorfer instead.

The first word Elio pronounces in the film - in French - is incorrect. Rather than say "l'usuRpateur" (usurper) to Marzia, he says "l'uRsupateur" which is incorrect.

When Elio and Oliver are at the car preparing to head off to Lake Garda with Sam, Elio has his right foot up on the open back door panel during their conversation. However, when the shot changes to Oliver's point of view in the front seat, Elio clearly has his left foot up on the door frame. Then back outside and it's right foot again.

At the beginning and to the end of the movie, Elio is using a Fido Dido T-Shirt. That fictional character was not created until 1985 by Joanna Ferrone and Sue Rose.

Right after Malfalda leaves Oliver's laundry in two piles on his bed, Elio walks in and there's only one pile.

The book that Elio gave to Marzia is the collection of poems "Parole" [Words] by Antonia Pozzi, curated by Alessandra Cenni and Onorina Dino and published for the first time by Garzanti in its series Poesia in 1989 (while the movie is set in 1983).

Elio states at the monument for the Battle of Piave that 170,000 died there. In fact, while there may have been approximately 170,000 casualties (dead,wounded,captured ) , the total number of dead was probably closer to 20,000.

When Elio grabs Oliver's crotch, Elio's legs are outstretched but when Oliver moves Elio's hand back, he places it on Elio's knee, showing Elio's legs pulled up.

On the morning after, Oliver is laying with his arm around Elio's shoulder and Oliver's bike wound almost looks healed, next scene after the swim when Oliver walks up to Elio the wound looks scabbed over again.

In the breakfast after the night Elio swam with Marzia, Elio was making a crepe with Nutella, the crepe had been wrapped, but next shot Elio was making the crepe with Nutella again, and next shot he took the wrapped crepe again...

During the bedroom scene, before Oliver says "Can I kiss you?" to Elio, Oliver (Armie Hammer) can be heard accidently whispering the name "Tim". Elio is played by Timothée Chalamet.

Elio wears an anachronistic Fido Dido T-shirt a couple times in the movie, including the beautiful scene on the sofa with his father near the end of the film. Although the film takes place in 1983, the Fido Dido character wasn't created until 1985. And in fact, if you pause/freeze-frame playback during that scene on the sofa, you can clearly see on the front of Elio's T-shirt the copyright year 1985 in small lettering (showing as "? 1985 Fido Dido") on the lower left side.

When Elio is seated in the garden, just before being shown a fish by Anchise, there is a Sony HF cassette tape on the table which dates from around 1988. A correct one for the era could be the Sony CHF with white & orange labels on the shell.

When Elio shows Oliver his "secret place" he removes his sunglasses in close up just to hold them in his left hand. Camera changes to Oliver and then both of them again and the sunglasses are no longer to be seen.

When professor Perlman shows Oliver Greek slides we can see a sleeve of a coffee table book facing camera which reads "Palaces Of Florence". The first edition of this book was published in 1995, so 12 years after the film's story line.

Movie details provided by IMDB

[kicksaddictny]

PUMA X FLGNTLT Evolution Super Series collection

According to PUMA

PUMA together with German streetwear brand FLGNTLT are celebrating an exciting crossover between car culture and Japanese motorsport with a new Autumn Winter 22 collection titled “Evolution Super Series”.

Inspired by the iconic liveries emblazoned on mid-90s and early 2000s Japanese National GT race cars; such as the 1996 PUMA GTO N1 Taikyu which raced in the Suzuka 1000km, and the 2000 PUMA Lancer EVO VI Super Taikyu run by the Test & Service Team. The exciting new collection creates an instantly recognisable aesthetic to fans of Japanese Domestic Market - JDM - endurance racing.

While the collection’s graphics and colour tones are deeply rooted in the Japanese endurance racing scene, it also celebrates PUMA’s long standing history in motorsport as a proud sponsor of some of the era’s most recognisable racing teams and machines. Translating this incredible racing legacy to the street; the Evolution Super Series collection features carefully curated pieces of outer- and inner-wear apparel, as well as three different choices of footwear.

The outer-wear lineup consists of the PUMA X FLGNTLT Corduroy Jacket, and PUMA X FLGNTLT relaxed fit pants - which combine a street style with workwear inspired elements. Fans can also choose from three colourways of the PUMA X FLGNTLT Hoodie (black, cream, green), while the PUMA X FLGNTLT T-shirt lineup is available in black, cream, green and blue.

What’s more the PUMA X FLGNTLT Evolution Super Series features three choices of footwear - each specially tailored to match the collections racing inspired style. The PUMA FLGNTLT Slipstream INVDR takes the key features of a classic basketball silhouette sneaker and redefines them with fresh streetwear cues and dynamic lines. The PUMA FLGNTLT Speedfusion sneaker combines an innovative sporting shape with a classic motorsport style, while incorporating classic Japanese racing inspired design cues. A relaxed option after the chequered flag has dropped is also available with the PUMA FLGNTLT Leadcat 2.0 Slides.

Get the iconic JDM racing style with the PUMA X FLGNTLT Evolution Super Series collection; Available exclusively on flgntlt.com from 8th December at 6pm CET, and puma.com from 10th December.

[jarchaeology]

Mr. Rhodes: The Halloween Show - Universal Studios: Universal City, CA - episode air date: October 28, 1996 - photographer: Gary Null

📽the slide collection series 📽

✨jensen filming his first scene as a reoccurring character on tv✨

(and yes that's travis wester from the ghostfacers!)

[abelkia]

La playlist de l'émission de ce jeudi matin sur Radio Campus Bruxelles entre 6h30 et 9h: Georges Perec & Claude Piéplu "Lieux, un projet (Confié à Gérard Macé) / Tentative de description de choses vues au carrefour Mabillon le 19 mai 1978 / 475 véhicules à deux roues, dont..." (Georges Perec/André Dimanche Éditeur/INA/1997) Clara Rockmore & Nadia Reisenberg "Achron: Hebrew Melody" (The Art of the Theremin/Mississippi Records/1975-2009) ZNR (Hector Zazou & Joseph Racaille) "Un véritable monstre à musique" (Traité de mécanique populaire/Invisible Records/1978) Moondog "Oasis" (The Viking of Sixth Avenue/Honest Jon's Records/1953-2004) Ben LaMar Gay "Aunt Lola and the Quail" (Open Arms to Open Us/International Anthem/2021) Eddie Chacon "Trouble" (Pleasure, Joy and Happiness/Day End Records/2021) Caetano Veloso "Da maior importância" (Qualquer Coisa/Philips/1975) Tracey Thorn "Simply Couldn't Care" (A Distant Shore/Cherry Red Records/1982) Madame Patate "Poisson Lune" ("Jolis choses" Hommage à Mami Chan/InPoly Sons/2021) George "The Living Sound" (A Week of Kindness/Pickled Egg Records/2005) Lael Neale "Sliding Doors & Warm Summer Roses" (Acquainted With Night/Sub Pop Records/2021) Françoise Hardy "Oh oh chéri" (Succès/Mondio Music/1962-1970) Herman Dune "Song of Samuel" (7" I Wish That I Could See You Soon/Source Etc/2007) Lou Reed "HookyWooky" (Set the Twilight Reeling/RHINO/1996-2021) The Fall "Eat Y'self Fitter" (50,000 Fall Fans Can't Be Wrong - 39 Golden Greats/Beggars Banquet/1983-2004) The Sound "I Can't Escape Myself" (Jeopardy/Korova/1980) Morphine "You Speak My Language" (Good/Rykodisc/1993) Richard Youngs "The Valley in Flight" (Beyond the Valley of Ultrahits/Jagjaguwar/2010) Hany Mehanna "Less Al Thulatha" (Music for Airplanes - A collection of instrumental showpieces and scores for Egyptian films and TV​-​series (1973​-​1980)/Souma Records/2021) Coil "The Last Amethyst Deceiver" (The Ape of Naples/Threshold House/2005) Gérard Manset "La mort d'Orion" (La mort d'Orion/EMI Records/1970-1996) Tortoise & Bonnie "Prince" Billy "Love is Love" (The Brave and the Bold/Domino Recording Company/2006) https://www.instagram.com/p/CX0uoe5tP97/?utm_medium=tumblr

[berniesrevolution]

FML: Why millennials are facing the scariest financial future of any generation since the Great Depression.

Huffington Post Highline

Part III

Becoming poor is not an event. It is a process.

Like a plane crash, poverty is rarely caused by one thing going wrong. Usually, it is a series of misfortunes—a job loss, then a car accident, then an eviction—that interact and compound.

I heard the most acute description of how this happens from Anirudh Krishna, a Duke University professor who has, over the last 15 years, interviewed more than 1,000 people who fell into poverty and escaped it. He started in India and Kenya, but eventually, his grad students talked him into doing the same thing in North Carolina. The mechanism, he discovered, was the same.

We often think of poverty in America as a pool, a fixed portion of the population that remains destitute for years. In fact, Krishna says, poverty is more like a lake, with streams flowing steadily in and out all the time. “The number of people in danger of becoming poor is far larger than the number of people who are actually poor,” he says.

We’re all living in a state of permanent volatility. Between 1970 and 2002, the probability that a working-age American would unexpectedly lose at least half her family income more than doubled. And the danger is particularly severe for young people. In the 1970s, when the boomers were our age, young workers had a 24 percent chance of falling below the poverty line. By the 1990s, that had risen to 37 percent. And the numbers only seem to be getting worse. From 1979 to 2014, the poverty rate among young workers with only a high school diploma more than tripled, to 22 percent. “Millennials feel like they can lose everything at any time,” Hacker says. “And, increasingly, they can.”

Here’s what that downward slide looks like. Gabriel is 19 years old and lives in a small town in Oregon. He plays the piano and, until recently, was saving up to study music at an arts college. Last summer he was working at a health supplement company. It wasn’t the most glamorous job, lugging boxes and blending ingredients, but he made $12.50 an hour and he hoped he could step up to a better position if he proved himself.

Then his sister got into a car accident, T-boned turning into their driveway. “She couldn’t walk; she couldn’t think,” Gabriel says. His mom wasn't able to take a day off without risking losing her job, so Gabriel called his boss and left a message saying he had to miss work for a day to get his sister home from the hospital.

BOOMER: 6.9%

MILLENNIAL: 2.6%

Average annual stock market returns on 401(k) plans

The next day, his temp agency called: He was fired. Though Gabriel says no one had told him, the company had a three-strikes policy for unplanned absences. He had already missed one day for a cold and another for a staph infection, so this was it. A former colleague told him that his absences meant he was unlikely to get a job there again.

So now Gabriel works at Taco Time and lives in a trailer with his mom and his sisters. Most of his paycheck goes to gas and groceries because his mom’s income is disappearing into the family’s medical bills. He still wants to go to college. But since he can barely keep his head above water, he’s set his sights on an electrician’s apprenticeship program offered by a local nonprofit. “I don’t understand why it’s so hard to do something with your life,” he tells me.

The answer is brutally simple. In an economy where wages are precarious and the safety net has been hacked into ribbons, one piece of bad luck can easily become a years-long struggle to get back to normal.

Over the last four decades, there has been a profound shift in the relationship between the government and its citizens. In The Age of Responsibility, Yascha Mounk, a political theorist, writes that before the 1980s, the idea of “responsibility” was understood as something each American owed to the people around them, a national project to keep the most vulnerable from falling below basic subsistence. Even Richard Nixon, not exactly known for lifting up the downtrodden, proposed a national welfare benefit and a version of a guaranteed income. But under Ronald Reagan and then Bill Clinton, the meaning of “responsibility” changed. It became individualized, a duty to earn the benefits your country offered you.

Since 1996, the percentage of poor families receiving cash assistance from the government has fallen from 68 percent to 23 percent. No state provides cash benefits that add up to the poverty line. Eligibility criteria have been surgically tightened, often with requirements that are counterproductive to actually escaping poverty. Take Temporary Assistance for Needy Families, which ostensibly supports poor families with children. Its predecessor (with a different acronym) had the goal of helping parents of kids under 7, usually through simple cash payments. These days, those benefits are explicitly geared toward getting mothers away from their children and into the workforce as soon as possible. A few states require women to enroll in training or start applying for jobs the day after they give birth.

The list goes on. Housing assistance, for many people the difference between losing a job and losing everything, has been slashed into oblivion. (To pick just one example, in 2014 Baltimore had 75,000 applicants for 1,500 rental vouchers.) Food stamps, the closest thing to universal benefits we have left, provide, on average, $1.40 per meal.

In what seems like some kind of perverse joke, nearly every form of welfare now available to young people is attached to traditional employment. Unemployment benefits and workers’ compensation are limited to employees. The only major expansions of welfare since 1980 have been to the Earned Income Tax Credit and the Child Tax Credit, both of which pay wages back to workers who have already collected them.

Back when we had decent jobs and strong unions, it (kind of) made sense to provide things like health care and retirement savings through employer benefits. But now, for freelancers and temps and short-term contractors—i.e., us—those benefits might as well be Monopoly money. Forty-one percent of working millennials aren’t even eligible for retirement plans through their companies.

And then there��s health care.

In 1980, 4 out of 5 employees got health insurance through their jobs. Now, just over half of them do. Millennials can stay on our parents’ plans until we turn 26. But the cohort right afterward, 26- to 34-year-olds, has the highest uninsured rate in the country and millennials—alarmingly—have more collective medical debt than the boomers. Even Obamacare, one of the few expansions of the safety net since man walked on the moon, still leaves us out in the open. Millennials who can afford to buy plans on the exchanges face premiums (next year mine will be $388 a month), deductibles ($850) and out-of-pocket limits ($5,000) that, for many young people, are too high to absorb without help. And of the events that precipitate the spiral into poverty, according to Krishna, an injury or illness is the most common trigger.

“All of us are one life event away from losing everything,” says Ashley Lauber, a bankruptcy lawyer in Seattle and an Old Millennial like me. For most of her clients under 35, she says, the slide toward bankruptcy starts with a car accident or a medical bill. “You can’t afford your deductible, so you go to Moneytree and take out a loan for a few hundred bucks. Then you miss your payments and the collectors start calling you at work, telling your boss you can’t pay. Then he gets sick of it and he fires you and it all gets worse.” For a lot of her millennial clients, Lauber says, the difference between escaping debt and going bankrupt comes down to the only safety net they have—their parents.

But this fail-safe, like all the others, isn’t equally available to everyone. The wealth gap between white and non-white families is massive. Since basically forever, almost every avenue of wealth creation—higher education, homeownership, access to credit—has been denied to minorities through discrimination both obvious and invisible. And the disparity has only grown wider since the recession. From 2007 to 2010, black families’ retirement accounts shrank by 35 percent, whereas white families, who are more likely to have other sources of money, saw their accounts grow by 9 percent.

The result is that millennials of color are even more exposed to disaster than their peers. Many white millennials have an iceberg of accumulated wealth from their parents and grandparents that they can draw on for help with tuition, rent or a place to stay during an unpaid internship. According to the Institute on Assets and Social Policy, white Americans are five times more likely to receive an inheritance than black Americans—which can be enough to make a down payment on a house or pay off student loans. By contrast, 67 percent of black families and 71 percent of Latino families don’t have enough money saved to cover three months of living expenses.

(Continue Reading)

[eimitagtag]

Carrie Mae Weems

Weems describes herself as a “vehicle” — a vehicle through which to approach questions of power, for questioning societal roles and relations. In what ways does Weems, throughout the oeuvre of her art practice, engage in many of the same questions—the same activist work— that Denise Murrell engaged with through her recent scholarship? How do these two realms of activism work separately, and how can they be used in conjunction? It’s baffling to consider the benchmark that Weems’ retrospective at the Guggenheim sets...in 2014. As such, I’m wondering how a methodology like Murrell’s can be used to center the artwork of contemporary ‘Others’? How can one use the realm of scholarship to document and give a voice to artists like Weems who use their own bodies and skin as a vehicle for activism? 

***

In her experience teaching photography at Hampshire College in Amherst MA, where she found herself to be an outlier in a small town, Weems not only realized that her female students struggled to image themselves as subjects in their own works, but that she too struggled with this “quandrary”—constructing herself as a protagonist. Weems describes the Kitchen Table Series as a seminole work, the work in which she found her voice, her own specificity, a manner in which to image herself, and women in general, from a space of power. 

I want to address the textual components of Weems’ work through consideration of the “Kitchen Table Series” (1990), the series, “From Here I Saw What Happened and I Cried,” created in 1995, and “Framed by Modernism” and “Not Manet’s Type,” which followed in 1997. What is the dichotomy of text and imagery in Weems’ artwork? How has Weems’ use of text evolved over the course of these different series? How does Weems draw from text/poetry to shift the meaning of her photographs from one realm to another? Without the text as a mediating device, would her works read differently?

***

Going through the two articles this week I was already so shocked that Weems was the first African American woman to have a major retrospective at the Guggenheim in 2014, and that this was her first major NY show. But upon reading the two articles, I was even more baffled hearing about the way in which the Guggenheim cut down her exhibition so significantly, despite probably being such a large/central museum, and despite highlighting Weems asa ‘step int he right direction’, blah blah, etc.  In particular, the separation of the ‘Museum Series’ struck me as potent example of the Area Studies dilemma with a large dollop of institutional hypocrisy mixed in. I just wonder if anyone knows any details about how this decision to separate them took place, how the curators could’ve missed the irony of  sidelining Weems’ works that specifically engage with institutional critique and institutional whiteness to a smaller venue in Harlem—of course also an important gallery—but still I’m just honestly flabbergasted by how this move  really exemplified exactly  what Weems was pointing at in this series narrative. How do you think institutional critique factored into this curatorial decision?

***

In 1996 Harvard threatened to sue Weems for the use of the eugenic archival daguerrotypes in her “From Here I Saw What Happened and I Cried” (1995) series, because she photographed, enlarged, and appropriated the images without permission..

This Harvard-Weems scandal came up again last year when Tamara Lanier sued the university for ownership (and damages) of a daguerrotype of her enslaved ancestor Renty (whom Weems also photographed for her series). I read the lawsuit complaint and jury demand and there is a short section about Weems in it and thought her response to Harvard at the time is worth sharing:

158. Weems urged Harvard to reckon with the implications of their position. She told University representatives, “I think your suing me would be a really good thing. You should. And we should have this conversation in court.”

Rather than moving forward with litigation against Weems, the university ultimately agreed to take a cut from each work sold and put those funds towards acquiring Weems’ works to their own collection. (NYT: “Harvard ultimately agreed to accept a fee for each work sold, which it used to buy part of the series for its art museum.”)  Reading about all this, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the recent Whitney acquisitions controversy—can we talk about this yet? How is this a prime example of large, premier institutions with massive endowments abuse (and ignore?) their elite positions with a continued refusal to pay Black artists accordingly, and instead exploit their works to their own benefit? 

***

When watching the 2016 Fresh Talk, it became very clear to me what Franklin Sirmins was writing about in the Guggenheim exhibition catalogue—how central performance and presence is to Weems. Even in her artist talk, it really felt like a performance, almost like slam poetry in a sense, in the way that she integrated the poetry of the textual works with the slides shared—speaking for over an hour seemingly entirely from memory. For me, it pushed the point home how watching artist talks and performances can be much more powerful than simply seeing the work silently in an exhibition space, because it really gave so much more context and voice to the works i saw on her website and read about in the catalogue and article. I wonder if any of you had similar thoughts while going through this weeks content, and if you all had any thoughts on the power and agency of performance, performativity, and self imaging while learning more about Weems’ photographs, texts, and talk this week?

[biofunmy]

Apple TV+ debuts Oprah, Jennifer Aniston series for streaming service

CLOSE

Apple announced its own TV and movie streaming service, enlisting superstars to try to overcome its rivals’ head start. (March 25) AP

It’s almost time to take a bite out of Apple’s new streaming service.

The company is launching Apple TV+ on Nov. 1 with nine original programs for $4.99 a month. The new programming includes dramas, comedies and movies with big-name stars and producers such as Oprah Winfrey, Steven Spielberg, Jennifer Aniston and Jason Momoa.  (Several of them attended a major kickoff event in March to showcase the new service.)

But can Apple TV+ replicate the success seen by other services including Netflix, Amazon and even Hulu? Take a look at what will be offered to its streaming customers on its first day and beyond, and judge for yourself.

Jennifer Aniston and Reese Witherspoon star in the new Apple TV+ series “The Morning Show.” (Photo: Apple)

‘The Morning Show’ (Nov. 1)

First, this isn’t a morning show: It’s “The Morning Show,” a drama about a “Today”-like show. The series stars Aniston as an over-the-hill news anchor, Reese Witherspoon as an upstart and Steve Carell and a #MeToo’d anchor (think Matt Lauer). Apple has already picked up a second 10-episode season.

‘Oprah’s Book Club’ (Nov. 1) 

Apple announced a multi-year partnership with the talk show legend and founder of the OWN cable network. The deal includes the series “Oprah’s Book Club,” a feature made popular on Winfrey’s talk show after it was first launched in 1996. For the first Apple TV+ episode, Winfrey interviews author Ta-Nehisi Coates about his new book “The Water Dancer.”

‘See’ (Nov. 1) 

Jason Momoa (“Aquaman”) and Alfre Woodard (“Luke Cage”) star in this dystopian drama set 600 years in the future. The series follows the struggle and survival of the human race after a virus kills a large number of humans and leaves the survivors blind.

‘Dickinson’ (Nov. 1) 

Hailee Steinfeld (“Bumblebee”) plays “Dickinson” – yes, it’s a comedy – about the early life of poet Emily Dickinson, with Jane Krakowski (“30 Rock”) as the poet’s mother.

‘For All Mankind’ (Nov. 1) 

The new space series explores how different our world would be if the space race had never ended. The show is being created by Ronald D. Moore (“Outlander,” “Battlestar Galactica”) and stars Joel Kinnaman (“The Killing”) and Sarah Jones (“Alcatraz”).

‘Helpsters’ (Nov. 1) 

The team behind “Sesame Street” takes on this series about lovable monsters who help solve problems.

‘Snoopy in Space’ (Nov. 1) 

Get the gang together and bring the dog, too! The beloved characters from “Peanuts,” created by Charles M. Schulz, will make Apple their home for series, specials and shorts based on “Peanuts” characters. The agreement includes STEM content in partnership with NASA. First up: “Snoopy in Space,” about a dog who wants to become an astronaut.

‘Ghostwriter’ (Nov. 1) 

A mysterious ghost in a bookstore enlists the help of four kids to release fictional characters from literature. The show is a reboot of a 1990s PBS series.

‘The Elephant Queen’ (Nov. 1) 

Apple TV+ will also take on nonfiction fare, including this documentary that follows a mother elephant and her herd.

‘Servant’ (Nov. 28)

A tragedy creates a rift in the marriage of a Philadelphia couple, which opens a portal for a mysterious force in this series from thriller creator M. Night Shyamalan.

‘Truth Be Told’ (Dec. 6)

Octavia Spencer (“Hidden Figures”) and Aaron Paul  (“Breaking Bad”) star in this series, which  examines true crime podcasts and the consequences of America’s obsession with this new form of media.

‘The Banker’ (January)

Anthony Mackie and Samuel L. Jackson, who both recently starred in “Avengers: Endgame,” play entrepreneurs trying to provide housing loans to African Americans in 1950s Texas. The project also stars Nia Long (“NCIS: Los Angeles”) and Nicholas Hoult (“Tolkien”). The movie will premiere in theaters on Dec. 6 before it appears on Apple TV+.  

‘Little America’

This new anthology series captures  the stories of immigrants in the United States. Based on a collection of stories in Epic Magazine, the show will be executive produced by Kumail Nanjiani and Emily V. Gordon, the husband-and-wife team behind “The Big Sick.”

‘Hala’

A high school senior struggles to balance her life as a teenager with her traditional Muslim upbringing. The movie was an official selection of the Sundance Film Festival and Toronto International Film Festival.

The following Apple TV+ projects are among those expected to appear in 2020 and beyond. 

Chris Evans project

Evans has been tapped to executive produce and star in “Defending Jacob,” a drama based on the book by William Landay. Evans, best known as Captain America in the Marvel movie franchise, plays a man whose 14-year-old son is the prime suspect in a murder.

Brie Larson series

Larson, who triumphed at the box office with “Captain Marvel,” will try her hand at producing and starring in an Apple TV+ series. The untitled project is based on the book “Life Undercover: Coming of Age in the CIA,” by former CIA undercover operative Amaryllis Fox.

Bill Murray movie 

Director Sofia Coppola is reuniting with her “Lost in Translation” star Murray in “On the Rock,” a film about a larger-than-life figure who reconnects with his daughter during an adventure in New York City. Rashida Jones (“Parks and Recreation”) is also set to star.

‘Time Bandits’

The new comedy series, about a young boy picked up by a group of time travelers, is based on the 1981 movie from  “Monty Python” alum Terry Gilliam. “Thor: Ragnarok” director Taika Waititi has been added to the project to direct and co-write the pilot. He’ll also be a producer on the series. 

J.J. Abrams and Jennifer Garner will be reunited for a new Apple TV+ series. (Photo: Christopher Polk, Getty Images)

‘My Glory Was I Had Such Friends’

Jennifer Garner and director J.J. Abrams, who teamed up on ABC’s “Alias” more than a decade ago, are reuniting for this limited drama series about a group of women supporting a friend waiting for a heart transplant. The show is based on the memoir by Amy Silverstein.

‘Sunny’ Day  

Fans of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia,” will be happy to see Rob McElhenney and Charlie Day working on the new Apple+ series “Mythic Quest” as writers and producers. McElhenney also stars in the workplace series about a video game studio alongside F. Murray Abraham (“Amadeus”) and Danny Pudi (“Community”).

Kevin Durant’s ‘Swagger’

The Golden State Warriors’ Kevin Durant’s life in youth basketball is the basis for the drama “Swagger,” which explores the lives of players, families and coaches in an amateur basketball league. The NBA star is an executive producer along with Brian Grazer (“Friday Night Lights”).

Spielberg’s ‘Amazing Stories’ returns

Executive producer Steven Spielberg is rebooting his NBC anthology series “Amazing Stories.” The 1985-87 sci-fi/fantasy series’ cast includes Edward Burns (“Saving Private Ryan”) and Kerry Bishe (“Halt and Catch Fire”) . 

Animated ‘Park’

“Central Park,” about a family of caretakers in the famed New York City park, includes the voice talents of Josh Gad (“Frozen”), Kristen Bell (“Frozen,” “The Good Place”), Leslie Odom Jr. and Daveed Diggs (“Hamilton”) and Tituss Burgess (“Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt”).

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[douchebagbrainwaves]

YOU GUYS I JUST THOUGHT OF THIS

When everyone wants you, it's hard not to end up making something of value to a lot of air in the straw. The answer, I realized, is that my m. Valuation is at best third. People from other rich countries can scarcely imagine the squalor of the man-made bits of America. But the way the story appeared in the press sounded a lot more money than a job, but it's clearly now the established practice. It's too hard to pick winners early on. I propose we call this new sport PR diving, and I'm sure there are far more striking examples out there than this clump of five stories. I know because I've seen it burn off. Investors may end up with less stock per startup, but startups will probably do better with founders more in control, and there will almost certainly be more of them. When I first laid out these principles explicitly, I noticed something striking: this is practically a recipe for generating a contemptuous initial reaction. Some say it's because their culture encourages cooperation.

The power of this technique extends beyond startups and programming languages and essays. The unsuccessful founders weren't stupid. I've noticed this too. You'll also want an executive summary and maybe a deck.1 One of the most successful companies we've funded so far, but I feel obliged at least to try. Startups raising money occasionally alienate investors by seeming arrogant. Tell yourself you can be as nice as you want, you have more ideas about what to do in that case. American cars continue to lose market share. One is that investors will increasingly be de facto series B rounds. Series A rounds still work that way, but things now work differently for most fundraising prior to the series A. The good news is, there's also a good chance the person at the next stage.

It's the job equivalent of the pizza they had for lunch. But in this case it seems more to the point where your group attaches to the tree. Trend articles like this are almost always the work of PR firms all over the articles, as you can, so you start learning from users what you should have been making. Which means it's doubly important to hire the best people. Traditionally phase 2 fundraising consists of presenting a slide deck in person to investors. As indeed they often are. Suppose as before that you only extract half as much from users as you could, but that right now you need to undertake to actually be successful.

4 million. It's too perfect. But the just-do-it. The sticking point is board seats. The bigger the problem, the harder it is to change directions. I can't think of a startup idea. Not only is fundraising not the test that matters. Don't raise too much money. Startups will go to them only to fill up rounds that are oversubscribed, being last in line means they'll probably miss the hot deals.

This is an instance of a very successful businessman in the cartoon it was always a man: a rapacious, cigar-smoking, table-thumping guy in his fifties who wins by exercising power, and isn't too fussy about how. When you look at something like Reddit and think the founders were lucky.2 Y axis are smaller, but the probability that an investor will say yes, in the future. So I'd like to suggest an additional feature to those working on spam filters: a punish mode which, if turned on, would spider every url in a suspected spam n times, where n could be set by the user. I think about this, because there have been cases of startups that kept trying to raise $250k. They're type-C procrastinators: they put off working on small stuff to work on hard problems at all. Be in fundraising mode or not. Better or worse, the just-do-it model and the Lisp model, like runtime typing and garbage collection. When he was writing that first Basic interpreter for the Altair, Bill Gates was writing something he would use, as were Larry and Sergey were noobs at fundraising.3 We decide based on about 10 minutes of in person interview, and we think as it spreads outward it will help later stage investors as well. All they really mean.4

Nearly all customers choose the competing product, a job. If we assume the average startup runs for 6 years and a partner can bear to be on a trajectory that leads to going public. The PR industry has too. If having less power prevents investors from overcontrolling startups, it should be hard. But only one company we've funded has so far, so tentatively assume the path to huge passes through an A round, before the VCs invest they make the company set aside a block of shoddy condos in a month. Why call an auction site eBay? Getting the first substantial offer can be half the total difficulty of fundraising, when you're in a very strong position, you not only won't get that but won't get anything. Stop fundraising when it stops working. But a constant multiple of any curve is exactly the same shape. It's like having a vacuum cleaner hooked up to your imagination.

Obviously one case where it would help to be rapacious is when growth depends on that. So you must cushion the blow with soft words. But if you wait too long, other investors might take the deal away from you. Mediocre hires hurt you twice: they get less done, but they need you to come in for one meeting to meet some of the qualities of things you're meant to like, but is disastrously lacking in others. So there should be a lot more definite. Because Apple is in the consumer electronics business now, and that they have to take less equity to do it. When you talk to investors in parallel rather than serially.5 Fundraising is not what I remember from it, but my mental models of the crusades, Venice, medieval culture, siege warfare, and so on. Since the VCs who don't adapt will be investing later, their returns from winners may be smaller. Its syntax, or lack of syntax, makes it look completely unlike the languages most people are used to. In such rounds they won't get the 25 to 40% of the company they do now. If not it's a sign of an underlying lack of resourcefulness.

Once you start getting investors to commit, it becomes increasingly easy to get more to. Now startups simply raise money from. When I see a startup with ordinary office workers—with type-B procrastinating, no matter what, but raising money will help us do it faster. You'll also want an executive summary, which should be less than 15%. But the craftier ones achieve the same result by offering to lead rounds of fixed size and supplying only part of the money you raise in phase 2 will be the last you ever raise. Though founders are rightly indignant when their plans get leaked to competitors, I can't imagine they'll work any less hard to feed stories to bloggers, if they built whole towns, market forces would compel them to build towns that didn't suck. Which means it's doubly important to hire the best people. Someone who's scrappy manages to be both threatening and undignified at the same time. That was contrarian advice 10 years ago, startups raising money in phase 2, yes.6 Investors know you're inexperienced at this and ask how their process works and where you are in fundraising mode or not. I wish I could think of an idea like that, remember: ideas like that are all around you. Our own startup, despite the fact that he has to do all the company's errands as well as programming, because at least when he's programming he can do whatever he wants.

Notes

From a company that has become part of the causes of the company and fundraising at the network level, and so on. The First Industrial Revolution, Cambridge University Press, 1996. No one in an equity round.

But it could change what it would grow as big as a high school. If they agreed among themselves never to do that much better that it would be on the software business, Bob wrote, for example, the only audience for your work. Which in turn forces Digg to respond promptly. It was common in the absence of objective tests.

But if you hadn't written about them. There are fields now in which you can't even claim, like warehouses. Anything that got fixed. 2%.

One valuable thing you tend to make peace with Spain, and there didn't seem to want them; you have to follow redirects, and no doubt often are, but corrupt practices in finance, healthcare, and this trick, and also what we'd call random facts, like play in a separate feature. And while this is an understatement. This must have been lured into this sort of dress rehearsal for the spot very easily.

When economists talk about it well enough known that people working for me do more than the type of x. A small, fast browser that you should be protected against such tricks will approach. By heavy-duty security I mean type I startups.

The situation is analogous to the present, and this tends to be the least VC-like. These points don't apply to types of startups will generally raise large amounts of other VCs who are younger or more ambitious the utility function for money. But that doesn't mean easy, of course, that good art is a huge loophole.

[puffsdolljunk]

Calender Girl Jenny: Peridot

I found out what Calender Girls were from the same site that gave me info on Ellie, sort of filtering through old dolls is difficult but it gains another dimension when you’re researching a doll from another country.

“ The Calendar Girls series began in 1996 with the Sweet Seventeen LifeCalendar girls and ran from April to March.”

They seem to be a doll a month sort of deal. There are some cuties:

For real though can I just collect the pink ones?

There were some at Craftiques the first time I went

You can see on the back of mine it’s only 4 through 9, I’m guessing showing a sneak peek for the next doll, but going no further. At the top it reads Sweet Seventeen Life.

Today I’m looking at Peridot for August. Since they’re all Jenny, this will be her name.

She slides out of her outerbox easily, here she is on the card. As you can see she’s already in a stand, not pictured are a pair of green pumps that flopped out with her loose. 

She has two pieces of elastic keeping her in.

It’s like actual elastic with two actual metal toggles. I just thought it was interesting. Mind the chipped polish.

It comes with a tiny horoscope I can’t read. If any followers CAN that’d be cool.

Look at that cute Leo.

And a ring for me! I’m not a peridot but my older sister is.

And here I encounter my first problem. Remember how she’s already in her stand?

Remember how she’s from 1997?

If you can’t tell that’s her stocking MELDED to the stand.

I legit thought she was glued there on purpose for a second.

But then I remembered the shoes. Why would there be shoes if she was glued to the stand.

So I carefully slid her out.

Ghost legs. They stood on their own.

This intimidated me because I knew I’d have to peel them off the stand, so I took a break from legs to focus on the doll.

She’s pretty cute for vintage. If you like green anyway. Her bangs were super smooth and held on with one oft hose plastic bands to keep her hair straght. Her hair isn’t in a brushable style imo, but I wouldn’t call it soft. It’s thin and kind of crispy and has the weight of real hair.

She has a swivel waist and the same bendy arms and legs as modern Licca, here she demonstrates her flexibility.

She has dark green heart ring and earrings, which I’ve found is fairly common on my Takara dolls.

I was hoping her shrug was removable, considering giant green roses aren’t really my style.

Alas, one piece.

She does have some cool details though, her neckalce is actually a legit necklace with beads and metal clasps, and she has a petticoat and underwear.

As for the stockings, I really really tired, but it was stuck on there as if it was intentional.

It wasn’t pretty.

On a side note her legs were sticky. Like think 90s Barbie rubber legs, but slightly moist/stickier. So it was hard enough getting these loose torn stockings on her.

Now I always hesitate just opening a 20 year old doll much less cutting one, but I couldn’t put on the shoes with scraggly tights.

Here you can see the stocking pieces that are still stuck on, as well as weird tags on her stocking where it pulled off.

And here she is with my other girls.

Ellie, Calender Girl Peridot, modern Jenny, modern Licca.

She reminds me of a mix of modern Jenny and Licca. As modern Jenny can’t bend her legs(or atleast the one I have), and her lips remind me more of Licca. But she still has the height and eyes of modern Jenny.

All in all I’m pretty happy with her. And am interested in acquiring other vintage foreign dolls.