#there is absolutely a difference between him and his fbi counterpart

[wondrouswendy]

Me, rattling the bars of my enclosure: Fictional Caseywake is so good, guys. It’s so amazing. It’s about a creator’s intimate relationship with their creation, the divine art of loving something that’s uniquely your own vision. There’s drama. Angst. Spice. Sex appeal. And in this essay, I will—

[saventhhaven]

Musically Inclined

Pairing; Sam Winchester x reader

Tags: implied smut, flustered!reader, flustered!Sam, Supernatural the Musical, confused!Dean

Word Count: 1,720

A/N: Based on S10, E5

(Gif not mine)

The two Winchesters got out of the front seats of the car in unrehearsed and unplanned unison, causing you to roll your eyes. It's like they were trying to be the unrealistic FBI agents from hoaky television shows. By the time you made it out of the car, they were already making their way up to the school. Damn them and their long legs.

"Hey!" you called after them irritably. "Are you guys gonna wait for me, or what?"

"Nah," Dean responded. Had you not been trying to keep up the professional façade, you may or may not have punched him in the arm.

"So," Sam started his signature run-down, "the last place Mrs. Chandler was seen by anyone was in the auditorium. Turns out, she's the drama teacher." Dean let out an exasperated sigh as you walked, his face more than enough for you to be able to tell that he already didn't like where this case was going.

"Theater kids. Great," he mumbled sarcastically.

"I was a theater kid," Sam said defensively. A wide grin broke out across your face, and you looked up at the tall Winchester with glee.

"No shit? I've got to hear this." Sam's lips turned almost nonexistent as he pressed them into a tight line. "No, wait, don't tell me. I can see it now: Sam Winchester himself on a stage under a spotlight, reciting Shakespearian verses in iambic pentameter."

"That ain't too far off from what he does now," Dean said under his breath as he leaned toward you conspiratorially. You snorted loudly, and Sam came to an immediate stop. Had you not been paying attention, you probably would've rammed right into him.

"You done?" he asked. Dean clapped his brother on the shoulder.

"Oh, come on, Sam, give us a line!" He only shook his head in response as the two of you continued to poke fun at him.

"Shut up."

"That's a shame," you piped up. "He would've made a great Hamlet." As the younger Winchester turned away, you thought you caught him fighting a smile. When the three of you entered the auditorium, Dean shook his head with slight disgust.

"Okay, seriously, what could possibly-"

"Idjits!" The three of you turned in surprise. It had been a long time since you had heard that. The only person who ever called the boys that was... Bobby? A teenage girl turned around, dressed in a khaki fisherman's vest, a plaid button-up t-shirt, and a worn baseball hat. She even had on a fake beard to match Bobby's appearance. "You are idjits!" she continued. You turned to the boys with a question on your lips, but before you could say anything-

"Hey, assbutt!" Another girl further away held a fake molotov cocktail with sparkly angel wings, a trenchcoat, and an unmistakable blue tie.

"Do-" You were cut off once again as an urgent piano chorus began to play throughout the auditorium, effectively causing you and the boys to jolt in surprise.

"John and Mary, husband and wife. Bringing home a brand-new life.” Your attention was diverted to the stage, where what you were assuming what was supposed to be Sam and Dean's parents carried in a fake baby, placing it in a crib.

"No way," you breathed as you latched onto Sam's arm for support. You were in total shock as the musical number continued to go on. "Th-that's you!" you stammered, fighting the urge to point. Sam nodded tightly.

"I know," he replied.

"On the road so far. They met a woman on the way-” The teenage actress version of you came onto the stage with an impressive-looking fake shotgun. The weapon recoiled in her hands, and the fake werewolf collapsed to the ground. 

“And that’s me!” You remembered meeting the boys like it was yesterday, but seeing it acted out in front of you with such accuracy was surreal.

“When the boys were toast, she saved the day. Birds of a feather, now they hunt together. Teaming up to save the world.”

"Cut!" Suddenly, the music came to a stop, and a girl with a beret leaped to her feet in the front row.

"What in the h-holy..." Dean breathed.

"There is a case," Sam put in. "Probably has something to do with all this." How he was able to keep such a level head right now, you had no clue. You could barely think straight.

"You think?" Dean sassed. The girl with the beret came rushing up to the three of you with another girl at her side, and all traces of your conversation died.

"Are you guys from the publisher?" she asked excitedly. She didn't even wait to take a breath before continuing. "I'm Marie, the writer/director, this is Maeve, my stage manager, and..." Marie trailed off as you fished through your blazer pocket for your FBI badge. Before you could get it out, though, Sam placed an urgent hand on your arm, causing you to look up at the stage. No way. The three girls playing Sam, Dean, and you were all holding up fake badges to their counterparts.

"I'm Special Agent Smith," Sam introduced somewhat breathlessly. "These are my partners, Special Agent-"

"Jones," you filled in.

"Smith," Dean said. Two Smiths? You would have to remember to thank Dean for overcomplicating things later.

"No relation," Sam was quick to explain. "We're here to look into the appearance-"

"There's no singing in Supernatural!" Dean exclaimed. Biting back a sigh, you and Sam both shot Dean a look. So much for subtlety.

"Well, this is Marie's interpretation," Maeve said with a frown. Dean let out a sound that was a mixture of a strangled laugh and a groan.

"They're entitled to their creative vision," you justified before he could say anything else. "Just because you don't like that they made Supernatural into a musical doesn't mean that you have to-"

"Dean cannot find out about this." The words instantly clicked in your brain, and you totally lost track of what you had been saying. On the stage behind Marie and Maeve, the two actresses playing Sam and yourself were running lines. "He would never let us live it down." Sam's actress took your actress's hand, and you felt a blush rise to your cheeks.

"If Dean finds out, he can deal with it. We're all adults here. Besides, it's not like he's never slept with someone before." The teenage actress version of you shook her head.

"Yeah, Sam, but it's different this time! We're not just talking about sex between two random people. This is you and me that we're talking about here."

"Oh, God," was all you were able to say. That had happened a few years ago when you were still blissfully unaware that Chuck was writing and selling books about your life with the Winchesters. That moment, in particular, was supposed to be private. Sam caught your eye with an expression of horror that was incredibly similar to your own. Holy shit. Dean spluttered for a moment before he was finally able to get comprehensible words out. He looked at you with disbelief.

"You-" Thankfully, you were able to give him a discreet shake of your head before he totally blew your cover. "Y/N and Sam," he corrected himself, "are... together?"

"They're not together," you and Sam chimed in at the same time. The skin between Marie's eyebrows crinkled as she stared at you.

"What are you talking about?" she asked incredulously. "Y/N and Sam have been hooking up since book two. That's canon."

"Oh my God," you repeated miserably. You barely heard a word the boys said as they did the standard case questioning with Marie and Maeve. Meanwhile, you were more focused on how many of your intimate moments with Sam were going to be on stage.

"So, how 'bout you give the two of us a behind-the-scenes tour-" You tuned in just as Sam was gesturing between him and yourself. "-while your director shows my partner Mrs. Chandler's office. Deal?" The two girls nodded wordlessly. "Great. Give us a moment, please."

"Okay," Marie agreed. As the two of them made their way back down to the stage, you continued to stand there in stunned silence.

"I'm gonna throw up," Dean said. You nodded numbly.

"Seconded."

"Yeah, by the way, were you two ever gonna tell me about that?" he asked.

"No."

"Absolutely not." Both your and Sam's words came out in a jumble, and you glanced at the tall man sheepishly.

"Well, you heard the girl!" Dean said, throwing his hands up in the air. "It's 'canon!' So, is it still going on, or what?" You made a face at his question.

"Dean!" Sam scolded. Your entire lives were on display in musical form for the rest of the world to see, and he wanted to know if you were still sleeping with his brother?

"That can't seriously be what you're most concerned about right now," you huffed as you crossed your arms over your chest. Dean's eyes only got wider as he ignored your comment.

"Well?" he pressed on. "Is it?" You and the younger Winchester exchanged another wary glance. He clearly wasn't going to let it go until he got his answer.

"No!" you exclaimed. Dean arched an eyebrow disbelievingly. "I'm serious, Dean. Sam and I haven't hooked up in a long time." The oldest Winchester looked to his brother for verification.

"It's true," Sam confirmed. Dean shook his head somewhat manically.

"I can't believe this. Friggin' musicals," he started to mutter as he shuffled away. "Andrew Floyd Webber crap."

"Andrew Lloyd," Sam corrected. Dean turned around, making a face.

"What?" When you shook your head at him, he rolled his eyes and headed for the stage. When he was finally out of earshot, you let out a breath of relief.

"I think we're in the clear," you whispered. Sam watched his brother, who seemed to be coaching "Cas" on how to throw his molotov cocktail. What a dweeb. The younger Winchester's hand found its way to the small of your back.

"You really think he bought that?" he leaned down to murmur in your ear. You shrugged.

"I don't know," you admitted. "But maybe we should knock it off for a while just to be safe." Sam nodded.

"Agreed."

Thank you so much for reading!

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[allyvampirelass29]

Bats in the Lake House

Bats in the Lake House A NOS4A2 Review By: Allyssa J. Watkins

A silent night A haunting song Seeing Uncle Charlie in your dreams Wayne, what's wrong? Christmas is forbidden For little boys who must stay hidden But a Lake House is not a Batcave Why can't the dark knight play with Charlie Manx Unless Vic McQueen is in the grave? Come boy, the moon winks, beckoning to you Christmasland is your North Star Do me a special favour, Wayne? Tell me where you are........."

The Lake House, while being more flash than bang, although ironically, it ends in one hell of a one, (Aaaaaaaah yeah, I'm still dead!) was a fun, intrigue of an episode, although like one of the homemade McQueen explosives buried a little too deep in the ground, doesn't hit quite as hard. That being said, it has THE most eerily dazzling opener of the entire series!!!! Wayne tosses and turns, hearing the siren's call of the Found Children's song, drawn to the window in a trance, pulls back the curtain and sees....... CHRISTMASLAND!!!! My heart STOPPED. I knew it wasn't real, it had to be a dream, and yet seeing him there, knowing how hard Vic was fighting to keep him from it, was both a thrill and a chill!!! Who KNEW Charlie Manx makes House Calls!? I LOVED this entire scene, it was so suspenseful, the horror on Vic's face as she hears her son humming Silent Night, over and over, following and fretting over her little duckling, all around the house, not realizing that, all the while, Charlie is not only there, hidden behind the veil of a dream, but is coaxing her son, pulling out all the stops, ever the showman, as he sells young Wayne on the joy and wonder of Christmasland!!!

Again, I know I've said this before, but Our Darling Zachary Quinto, truly embodying his Vampire Chauffer counterpart, dons a new facet of his dark, intense beauty, and magnificent malice, each new episode, bringing his holiday fear, and terrifyingly good looks to the dead heat of summer!!! I kept thinking how I need only open the door unto such a dark, dazzling visage, and I'd be like, "YES, DEAR GOD, TAKE ME TO CHRISTMASLAND!!!! I also love the way he is with Wayne, so paternal, and sweet, and patient with him, always doting upon him! It's a joy to watch them on screen together, the little lad and the Big Bad, walking side by side, so innocent. I especially loved how Charlie had the vampire children stand far enough away from the window, so that he couldn't tell they were vampires, so as not to scare him! That was adorable!

Aha the candy cane!!! I had my suspicions, first with Haley, and then last week with Wayne, there was such a smug satisfaction on Charlie's face as he took it, and I knew there had to be more! Can I say, as a writer, myself, I thought that was pure, smashing, genius!!! The key to Charlie's retrieval operations, slipping into the Children's dreams, and convincing them Christmasland is where they belong. How exciting to learn the secret of the magician's disappearing trick!! All of these scenes were phenomenal, and my heart ached with an inexplicable longing the way he said it...... "Tell me where you are, and I'll pick you up straight away......." Happy fuzzy sigh. Yes, I said my own address out loud. Come and get me, Charlie Manx.

The weekend escape to the Lake House was such a fun, promising concept, a chance for Vic, Lou, and Wayne to spend some real family time together, away from the looming reach of Charlie Manx and the pressures paid for by being a Strong Creative, with Aunt Maggie, and a Fed or two in tow. Wayne seeing the ornaments in the trees gave me chills, and it was interesting to think the McQueen clan had a Manx stowed away in their youngest's mind. Chris continues to impress me, giving Vic some MUCH needed advice about loving and leaving, and how trying to do both can cause more damage than cutting ties completely. Maggie is an absolute delight, as ever, and I love, love, LOVED her comment about Vic's father becoming Bear Grylls with his Spooky, Horror Cabin!!!! That was hilarious, and I'm still laughing as I write this!!!

I also loved what she said about, "None of those dudes are normal." That was a really beautiful moment for me, and I suspect an especially poignant one for Vic. She's always seen herself an an outsider, even in her own created family, but here she finally sees that she's not alone. That normal isn't so normal for them either, and she doesn't have to carry the consequences of having this peculiar gift all on her own. Also, can I just say, I think this was a subtle, tongue in cheek hint, to Wayne being a Strong Creative, inheriting his mother's gift, and if I'm right, I am so here for it, beyond THRILLED, and crossing my fingers!!! What a perfect twist, for Vic to have a little soldier with a knife, and inscape all his own, in the fight against Charlie Manx.

The warm fuzzies continue with Vic running off the dock, and jumping carefree into the lake, splashing and playing with her boys. I loved this so much, it was profound, getting to see them all together as family, happy, laughing, not a care in the world. It was Vic choosing her family, taking the leap into what it means to be vulnerable to the pains of loving Lou without doubt, and being a mother Wayne could respect, and love, and feel safe with. It was the last golden rays of sun before the night set in...... and oh what a night it will be......

The Lake House flawlessly sets up the suspense, puts all the players in place, loads up the Wraith as it were, with the intruding menace, and potential to be the BEST episode yet. But I felt a lull, I don't know, like we were forced to wait around. I was ready, and dying for it all to get started, for Charlie to swoop in the dead of night and attack. I felt like I was prepared for a fight that never came. Yes, I realize it was all to set up for the next episode, and I am enamoured with the screaming danger that awaits, but I don't know, I hungered for a little taste of it now, as I felt all that built up suspense, and pent-up foreshadowing fizzle out.

Okay, deep breath, when I said the episode ended with a bang, I was NOT kidding....... Tabitha, throwing caution and FBI protocol to the wind, invades the newest iteration of the House of Sleep, without back up, but it's okay because she brought a mask. Yes, that was clever, the mask safety and all, but I just felt like she should have been so much smarter than that!!! Last time I checked, going off half cocked, and riding headlong into mortal danger was Vic's thing!!! I loved that Bing had a special shrine inside the church to Charlie, wreathed in Christmas lights, with his Wanted Poster, I thought that was cute, and such a sneaky little detail. I would have loved to have seen Charlie's reaction to that, I can just see his initially disturbed expression, before arching his dark eyebrow, amused!!

Damn, I thought the fight between Bing and Craig was as intense as it got, but Bing VS Tabitha, was easily just as pulse pounding, and blood curdling. I'm not going to lie...... I thought Tabitha was dead, the moment she went down into that church basement. I heaved a sad little sigh when Maggie said, "We all know what happens to cops who cross with Charlie Manx....." We love you Joe, and we miss you!!! I thought that was a both a bittersweet tribute to Joe, and also a foreboding as to Tabitha's own fate. Tabitha after a fight to the near death, scratching, and clawing for her life, subdues Bing, when a tall, dark, handsome stranger steps from the shadows, and Tabitha comes face to face with her own demons, and the man she swore couldn't possibly exist. "Trespassing is a federal offence," He says silkily, before slamming a hammer into her shoulder without hesitation .

My heart almost can't take what happens next, watching Tabitha and Charlie scrapple with an even deadlier ferocity, in the midst of Charlie's seething taunts about what a waste it was to kill her here, and I wondered, if he'd known who she was, that she was Maggie's own girlfriend, would he have taken her prisoner, instead of trying to kill her? Make some kind of exchange for Wayne? The click of a gun cocked, not even a breath in-between, as the bullet is sent screaming, burrowing through the dead center of Charlie's forehead. At three in the morning, I have to clamp both hands over my mouth, not to let out a piercing scream of my own!!!! Charlie falls, lifeless, donning every appearance of death, as the tears stream down my eyes, and Tabitha makes a miraculous escape.

Yes, I know, Charlie's immortal, I know the only way to kill him, is outside the church right now, safe, but watching him fall like that, the blood pooling on his forehead, was a fleeting moment of pure, abject horror, and I felt helpless, wanting only to hold and cry over him!!! Death itself has no hold on Charles Manx, however, and after only a taste of it, he rises from his fallen place, as reanimated as ever, a bloom in his cheek, reaching for the back of his head. In a move that is pure, and utter SYLAR, he pulls out the protruding bullet, long nails dripping with blood, and lets out a sinister laugh, that is both beautiful and threatening, his smirk morphing into smouldering, slanted brow, murder. Careful, Kids...... Charlie Manx is coming to town.

The Lake House is full of all of these flashes of meaningful little moments. I loved the conversation between Lou and Vic about how they found each other, and came together as more than friends. If we had met randomly, under different circumstances, neither of us in mortal danger, would we still be together? Would it still be me? I really appreciated this as a viewer, because they finally said what everybody else was thinking....... Before the third episode, I thought of Lou as Vic's life raft, a comfort she had clung to, frozen, in the midst of unimaginable trauma. The question lingers unanswered. Vic and Lou came together during harrowing life and death turmoil, they found each other just when they needed to the most, in the aftermath of a ghastly tragedy, but can their love survive without it? When the storm is over, and there is just life, without the threat of death, and continued kidnappings, when there is no one left to save....... Will Vic and Lou still feel the same?

Another one of these little moments comes at bedtime between mother and son. Wayne is such a smart, confident little guy, and he's handled his attempted kidnapping with such calm, quiet strength, that I think Vic thinks he's more resilient, and doing better than he really is. After all, he's still only eight years old. For him to finally take off his brave face cowl, and say, Mom, you're hurting me, this is why I'm sad, what I worry about, what I want, was such a powerful moment, and a much needed wake-up call for Vic.

Ultimately, I give the Lake House due credit for creating such breathtaking suspense, and leaving us wanting more. I hope next week we can delve right into the explosive action, and Manx's revenge, the full out attack on the lake house at last!!! No more teasing, NOS4A2!!! After all, It's not a family vacation without Wayne's favourite Uncle Charlie.......The stage is set, The Batcave is empty, and The Wraith Cometh.

[mst3kproject]

The Devil’s Eight

The nasty misanthropic Ross Hagen revenge movies were among my least favourite episodes of MST3K, so it’s no surprise I haven’t done one as an Episode that Never Was.  But this blog isn’t about movies I like, it’s about movies that were or should have been on the Satellite of Love.  The Devil’s Eight is from American International Pictures, and as well as Hagen it features Leslie Parrish, whom you’ll remember as Ev from The Giant Spider Invasion, and Cliff Osmond, whom you probably don’t remember as the Sheriff in Hangar 18.  And on a super-duper-extra-promising note, it was written by Willard Huyck, who did the script for American Graffiti… but also for Howard the Duck.

FBI Agent Faulkner has been assigned to arrest a powerful crime lord.  Several of his colleagues have already tried this mission and been killed, so rather than use fellow agents, he frees a bunch of criminals from a chain gang and forces them to be his underlings, because we’re here to rip off The Dirty Dozen and we don’t care if it makes sense.  Driving specially souped-up cars, this unwashed and unshaven bunch infiltrate the crime boss’ moonshine operation only to realize that he’s set a trap for them.  The movie climaxes in a free-for-all of shooting, driving, and blowing shit up, and I have no idea what was happening for most of it but Ross Hagen got to hug his girlfriend at the end so it must have worked out okay.

My number one complaint about The Devil’s Eight (and I have many) is that there is only one piece of music in the entire film.  It’s a repetitive and obnoxiously catchy two-line melody that is arranged in a dozen different ways, attempting to sound ominous, mischievous, romantic, dramatic, and so forth, but the only thing it ever actually does sound like is comical old west saloon music.  It repeats through the whole hour and forty minutes of the movie and then we have to hear a ditty about the characters sung to the same tune over the end credits.  I can already tell it’s gonna be in my head for days and it’s making me want to stab something.

From the beginning, The Devil’s Eight is very badly constructed.  We start with the prison break, which was probably a good idea, and follow it until the surprise moment when they find the helicopter there waiting for them.  This scene is weirdly reminiscent of its counterpart in Starcrash and I assume both of them stole it from some better movie.  Once they’re in the chopper, however, we segue into a flashback of Faulkner and his boss talking about the mission.  Skipping back in time to a couple of guys talking in an office totally derails the momentum the first scene built up.  We want to know what’s going on, but the same information could have (and partially was) imparted by Faulkner talking to the rest a moment later!

When he does talk to them, he is maddeningly vague about what their plan is.  It involves secretly armored cars and throwing grenades while driving them – we can gather that much from the montages that follow.  The ultimate goal is to find a guy named Burl, who brews his own moonshine and apparently ‘owns’ most of the cops and politicians in wherever this is, and whom we know nothing about until the movie is half over.  When things finally do start happening, we still don’t really know what they’re trying to accomplish, and we’re not sure the characters are.  Faulkner acts like he knows what he’s doing, and the other guys (and the audience) just have to take that on faith.

In addition to telling us what the hell the characters are trying to accomplish, the first third or so of the movie should be spent getting to know them and setting up their arcs.  The Devil’s Eight tries to do this but it’s pretty half-assed about it.  There’s Sonny, the drunk troublemaker, who resolutely refuses to evolve even at gunpoint. There’s Chandler, the guy who is trying to better himself by giving up violence and reading the bible.  He turns out to be the most brutal hand-to-hand fighter of the lot, absolutely creaming half of Burl’s guys in a barfight, but he’s given no resolution to his desire for a pacifist lifestyle and is gunned down moments after admitting he doesn’t know whether to believe in god or not. And there’s Henry and Billy Jo, the black guy and the bigot (respectively), who learn to appreciate each other.  I have to give this arc a couple of grudging points for ending with Henry weeping over Billy Jo’s dead body rather than the reverse… congratulations, guys, you were slightly less racist than you could have been.

The character with the biggest personal investment in this and the one who tries to have a real story arc is Ross Hagen’s Frank. He used to work for Burl until, for unknown reasons, Burl framed him for murder, killed his younger brother, and stole his girlfriend.  He’s now itching for revenge and is personal stake in the mission leads him to take charge and enforce order when the others try to rebel against Faulkner.  That sounds like a pretty good storyline for the main character in a movie.

Then they blow it.  When Faulkner tells him they have to bring Burl in alive, Frank gets mad and insists he deserves to die.  Then, like that other Frank in T-Bird Gang, he gets no resolution for it.  The audience expects him to have a moment of confrontation with Burl and then either kill him or decide not to do so. The final confrontation, however, is between Burl and Faulkner, while Frank just fucking stands there.  It seems incomprehensible when it’s his girlfriend Burl is threatening to shoot.

This scene also has a perfect opportunity to pay off another thing The Devil’s Eight set up earlier – there’s a scene in which Faulkner demonstrates his skill as a marksman by putting three holes in a target without hitting the man who is reaching to take the target off its stand.  When Burl began threatening to shoot Frank’s girlfriend, Faulkner stood up and I was sure we were going to get a payoff for that, with Faulkner shooting Burl in the leg or the hand to make him let go of the woman, without hitting her.  But instead, Faulkner just drops his gun and walks forward to parlay!  It’s a failure of Chekov’s gun with an actual gun in it.

I think Faulkner is supposed to be the actual main character.  He’s in charge, after all, and he’s the one who gets things like flashbacks and climactic confrontations.  The problem with this is that Faulkner never learns anything, never grows, and we get no insights into his character.  He’s just a huge asshole to everybody from his girlfriend to the prisoners to the rookie agent the FBI sent to assist him (this character’s age is never established. He’s implied to be young and naïve, but he’s played by an actor who looks like he’s around forty).  Faulkner’s final line is not to place Burl under arrest, although that’s coming, but to make fun of him.

If Faulkner is a crummy hero, Burl is a terrible villain.  We don’t even meet him until the movie’s half-over, which I guess is supposed to build suspense.  The problem is that until that moment, we have seen nothing to tell us what kind of threat he represents.  Characters have talked about it, but that’s all.  We got a vague impression of a local crime king, but when Burl actually arrives in the narrative he’s a Joe Don Baker-looking guy who lives in a ramshackle log cabin in the middle of nowhere, with a bunch of other hillbillies who differ from him mostly in being dirtier.  All he seems to actually do is sit around eating.  He never comes across as threatening, just as a hick with pretensions.

Without a compelling hero, a threatening bad guy, or much of an idea what this is all even building to, where does that leave The Devil’s Eight?  It’s an over-long movie about dirty men driving huge cars and punching each other. The movie had plenty of time that could have gone into rising action and establishing character and playing up Burl’s threat and so forth, but instead it’s just training montages of driving and punching.  Once the actual plan is in motion that turns out to be just more driving and punching as they run Burl’s moonshine deliveries off the road.  The driving scenes are set to that annoying single piece of music that sounds more comical than exciting, the bluescreen backgrounds are dire, and the actors are utterly incapable of making their fake driving look anything but fake.

Everybody in the entire movie is filthy, by the way. I don’t know if this is actually supposed to invoke the ‘dirty’ part of The Dirty Dozen, or if it’s an attempt to show how rough and tough these guys are, but they’re all grimy, sweaty, and gross.  I could almost smell them through the screen.

MST3K would have had a great time with The Devil’s Eight.  I can picture Crow and Tom trying to make their own moonshine… Mike tastes it and doesn’t like it but tries not to insult them, and then they reveal it’s distilled from things like old o-rings and Joel’s socks.  And I know exactly what the stinger would have been, too.  There’s a bit where Burl and Faulkner are attempting to size each other up over dinner, and Burl orders Frank’s ex-girlfriend to mind her manners and give Frank a slice of her inexpertly-iced cake.  I don’t know why this is so funny, but I don’t know what made half the stingers in the series funny, so there you go.

[wondrouswendy]

FBI vs Fictional Alex Casey

I'm glad to hear that Sam Lake himself even sees the difference between FBI Casey and Dark Place/Fictional Casey--as opposed to how sometimes the two are conflated as being the same person.

He acknowledges himself that FBI Casey has more of a safety net around him which prevents him from becoming like Fictional Casey. He COULD become something akin to Fictional Casey, it's not outside the realm of possibility, but Agent Casey has people like Saga (and later Kiran Estevez) who serve as his support group.

Even Fictional Casey isn't Max Payne. Casey's character concept (the FBI Agent and the Fictional Version) is based on the film noir hard-boiled detective, but to differing levels of influence. Fictional Casey is based on visions Alan received (but didn't know how to parse) and turned into his fictional stories. Alan wasn't 1 for 1 recreating Casey's life; he was using it for inspiration in the same way writers get inspired by real life all the time... In Alan's case, it just has a supernatural foundation (that he isn't aware of until later).

To my absolute shock (and joy), I noticed that AO3 finally created the relationship tag Fictional Alex Casey/Alan Wake at last. I'm the only one using this tag at the moment (but here's hoping maybe other people will use it now too???). SO... I guess that means Fictional Alex Casey/Alan Wake is a rare pair!

I've used both Alex Casey/Alan Wake and Fictional Alex Casey/Alan Wake tags for fic Out of My Hands and Into Your Heart since the latter didn't exist until recently apparently. I used the Fictional tag for Casey because I wanted readers to know that this story would follow Fictional Casey and his relationship with Alan, not his FBI counterpart (as I've always seen these people as separate individuals).

But it's good going forward there will be two separate tags for both FBI and Fictional Casey.

Hopefully other fic authors will start using these tags more frequently now that Sam Lake has confirmed they're both their own men in their own right!

[orhelponefaintingrobin]

Netflix’s “Death Note” - Film Review

Now, I do want to clarify something before I get into this. In this review, I am not going to be spending a lot of time talking about the controversy surrounding the casting in Adam Wingard’s “Death Note”. I understand the filmmakers’ motivations as to the casting, and I also understand a lot of the reasons why people had an issue with it, most of all the dreadful record of characters of Asian descent in Western films, but the truth is, I am going to be talking about the film that was made, and although, on balance, I think that they probably should have gone with an actor of Japanese descent to play the lead role, if that was the only thing that was changed, it wouldn’t have really changed my feelings towards the film.

But “Death Note” is a film that exists. And I just watched it.

I really don’t want to focus on this film being an adaptation. There are two ways you can approach viewing this film. You can view it as its own thing, or you can view it as an adaptation of the original Manga. But I think that drastically changes the way you are going to react to it. Because if you view it as an adaptation of the manga, then there is very little argument as to whether or not it is good. If you want to see a faithful adaptation of “Death Note”, then watch the anime. I mean, you should do that anyway, the anime is incredible, but you get what I mean. This is not a faithful adaptation of Tsugumi Ohba’s Manga. Save for a few of the names (Light, L, Watari, Ryuk) there is almost no similarities between the two products other than Ryuk’s design, and if that’s something that’s going to be a problem for you that you’re not going to be able to get past, then you are going to absolutely hate this film.

But, I did manage to put that out of my mind, for the most part, so, now, I am going to talk about the film that was made, from the perspective of SOLELY the finished product, not as an adaptation, separate from the controversy.

And the truth is, “Death Note” is… Alright.

The film is definitely well made, from a technical standpoint. As far as the direction, the cinematography, and most of the script is concerned, it isn’t a terrible film by any stretch. The special effects on Ryuk and the bigger set pieces are decent, and I didn’t feel any particular impulse to turn it off. It was a film that I was able to watch, beginning to end, without feeling too offended by what I was watching. There was definitely talent present for the making of the film, that much is clear. Adam Wingard’s previous films have generally been pretty untamed, gory horror flicks, and there is definitely evidence of that in “Death Note”, but he also manages to direct the more thriller-esque parts of the film decently as well.

The acting is generally competent, save for Nat Wolff’s… interesting screaming near the beginning. There are some experienced names in the mix; Nat Wolff has some relatively well-known films under his belt, such as John Green adaptation “Paper Towns”, Lakeith Stanfield has credits on “Straight Outta Compton”, Donald Glover’s “Atlanta” and this year’s popular “Get Out”, and Willem Dafoe has plenty of credits under his belt, including the role which made him so well suited to Ryuk, The Green Goblin in Sam Raimi’s original “Spider-Man”. So, there’s definitely actors in the film. Even when you don’t compare it to the original, Lakeith Stanfield is probably the standout performance, in my opinion at least, who, even when being given a character who was probably the closest to the original, still managed to really make L his own character (And a character who I actually wouldn’t mind seeing more of…). Nat Wolff is pretty good, given his character had all the controversy, both with the obvious racial issues and the vast differences between the film’s Light Turner and the original Light Yagami’s personalities. Margaret Qualley was decent as well, though maybe a little over-the-top at points (Though, I’ll get back onto that, and it might be script more than anything else). Other background characters worked fine; Light’s dad was a cop, not much else, Watari was well-performed but had about as much to do as he did in the original. Willem Dafoe was amazing as Ryuk, but that was probably the best casting choice they made anyway.

The overall plot of the film was relatively easy to follow, and didn’t get too confusing at any points. But, this is actually where we start to see some issues. Not with a lot of the film overall, but just with bits. Two bits, in fact. The beginning and the Ferris wheel scene.

The beginning was weirdly jumpy, switching between the first bits of the credits, then a couple of shots of Light and Mia, then jumping to the title card, then jumping back into the film. It almost felt like someone had got the clips mixed up, and accidently put the title card in the wrong place; that was how jumpy it felt. And as far as the first few minutes, it was just a little rushed and confusing, and it could have been worth shortening a few other bits, such as Light and L’s chase, to establish a few different bits before Light ended up with the Death Note. I’m hardly a professional (yet) but I’d probably have tried to make some similarities to the original, and structure it as: Light doing other people’s homework à Light getting into the fight with Kenny à Light getting caught and getting detention à Light seeing the Death Note out of the window while in detention, so that it catches his eye similarly to how it does in the original. Then we can have Light go and pick it up after detention, see Kenny bullying the girl, and have Light kill him from a distance, and go from there. I don’t know if that makes sense, but my point is the way that the first five/ten minutes were organised felt a little off, and it meant that by the time Light starts killing, we don’t really know anything about his character.

The ferris-wheel scene is the next bit I have an issue with. I get that they needed to find a good way to wrap it up, and I get that western filmmaking includes these big set-pieces, but the way it was done was… awkward… Actually, that goes back to the reveal that Mia wrote Light’s name in the book, although once it gets past that bit, the scenes with L were pretty good, until we get back to the ferris wheel. Where things just all feel a little… off. Light writing Mia’s name in the Death Note didn’t make a whole lot of sense, even when he explained everything to his father at the end, their confrontation felt too jumpy, with it going from Light begging Mia to let them stop to Mia snatching the book to the ferris wheel breaking… And ‘dramatic’ slo-mo is never particularly dramatic… It all just felt a little off.                Not to mention the whole scene sort of summed up my issues with Mia as a character. I mean, she’s definitely a more convincing character than her sort-of-counterpart, Misa Amane (Although, Adam Wingard said that her character was more based on Light Yagami’s sociopathic side), but it still seemed a little too much. Take her motivations, for example. Why did she have an interesting in Light or the Death Note? Annoying as she was, Misa at least had strong motivation for everything: She had a clear reason for worshipping Kira, a clear motivation for doing what she was doing, and though she was more tolerable to watch, there was very little of this in Mia. And the ferris wheel scene really showed that. Agreeing that she loved Light to ordering him around, her reaching for the Death Note as it fell, it all just seemed one step too far. And her actual death really summed that up. She could have died normally, could have just splattered on the ground like the FBI agents she killed. But the flowers showed how over the top her characterisation was.

In all honesty, I think I’ve worked out what the main problem with “Death Note” was, as a film. Yes, it’s got SO MANY FLAWS as an adaptation, from the tone-deaf casting to the almost unrecognisable plot. But as a film in its own right, it isn’t too bad. But the issue is, it was an adaptation. And, while “Death Note” was a coherent, not generally awful film in its own right, the original Manga’s core seemed to get lost in translation. That wasn’t to do with changing the setting or the race, either. I mean, it was an issue, but it wasn’t what affected the quality of the film. This film was a thriller. Not quite an action film, or a mystery, or even a horror, past the first half an hour, but a thriller. You were waiting to see how Light would get out of things, and it isn’t even unsatisfying in that way. But it doesn’t have anything else. Yes, the original “Death Note” is a gripping psychological thriller (A better one, but that’s not my point), but what the original does is use that as a mask for a careful moral examination, a character study showing so nicely the age-old idea that absolute power corrupts absolutely. Light fails, and he doesn’t fail because he was betrayed, or because L works out who he is. Light Yagami, in a way, beats himself. And we don’t even see that in this film. The way it ends doesn’t really tie any plot points up at all, and leaves it very much asking for a sequel. And, much as I’m almost ashamed to say it, I almost want one, just because I like narratives being tied up. But, while it needs a sequel, it doesn’t really deserve one.

As I said, “Death Note” wasn’t bad, but when you can just as easily go onto Netflix and watch the original, which gives most of the same positives as this film while giving you a much deeper story, it just doesn’t feel like there’s much point to it.

Watch it if you’ve got nothing better to do (Which is the only way I got around to watching it), but it probably isn’t essential. You just can’t beat the original.

[brywrites]

Love Looks Not With the Eyes

Requested: the Reader is dared to ask Reid on a date, but upon realizing that she’s genuinely interested in him, decides to comes clean.

It was supposed to be a dare. Two years of working as the counter-terrorism team’s technical analyst had led to some close workplace friendships. One of which is Penelope Garcia, the analyst for the BAU. And by proxy, since he spends so much time around her, Derek Morgan. Y/N keeps Penelope company when her team is out in the field, and her colorful counterpart returns the favor when counterterrorism is gone. When there’s no case, she’ll occasionally go up a floor to visit Morgan and Penelope, and maybe grab lunch together. They make a good trio, all of them able to laugh and joke in order to lift the burden of their serious jobs, and yet hold a meaningful conversation at the same time. They are friends who understand each others fears, and share in each others happiness.

It’s at lunch when she off-handedly mentions to Penelope that she wants to go see an upcoming production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream that Morgan raises his eyebrows.

“You’re a nerd, aren’t you?” His tone is light, conveying no cruelty, only amicable teasing.

“Well, I work with computers all day, and I’m friends with Penelope. What else did you expect?” she laughs.

“No, no.” Derek shakes his head. “Not like that. I mean a bona fide, actual nerd. You probably read old literature, listen to classical music, learn things for fun. That sort of thing.”

“We can’t all kick down doors for a living,” she replies. This earns her a giggle from Penelope. “But you’re right. I do enjoy all of the above.” Since she was little, she’s loved books and words and stories. She embraces all things academia and actively seeks out plays and concerts. To some, it might seem old-fashioned, even lame. That’s fine with her. She loves what she loves, and her friends respect that.

Abruptly shifting gears, he asks, “You’re not seeing anyone, right?”

Perplexed, she tells him she isn’t. A conniving look is traded between Morgan and Penelope, and she braces herself for whatever crazy thing they’re about to suggest, or whatever witty joke they’ll make.

“How’d you like to go on a date?” Penelope asks. “With someone who has similar interests?”

“Where is this heading?” When Penelope gets that mischievous glint in her eyes, she’s learned to hesitate.

“We dare you to ask Spencer Reid out on a date,” Morgan says.

Her jaw drops. “Reid? No way. Absolutely not.” The awkward agent they work with? He’s brilliant, but where his mental abilities are top-notch, his social skills are severely lacking. Though he is good-looking, she would never consider dating him. Besides, he’s not quite handsome. More like pretty.

“Oh come on, Y/N! He’s totally got a crush on you.” A fact which she’s well aware of. Reid isn’t the best at hiding his emotions. Every now and then, when she’s walking through the bullpen in search of Penelope or Morgan, she’ll catch him staring at her out of the corner of his eye, or while pretending to be reading something. When she talks to him, he always gets flustered and ends up tripping over his words. It’s sweet – in the way a clumsy puppy dog is sweet. But she has no romantic interest in the guy.

“We double dare you,” Penelope adds, smirking. “If you do it, we’ll buy lunch next week. It’s just one date! How bad could it be?”

“Besides, it would make Pretty Boy very happy. You don’t want him to be lonely and pining forever, do you? Go out with him, talk about books and shit, and then you can politely refuse another date and my man can move on. It’s really a win-win here.”

After much begging, bribing, manipulating, and peer pressuring, she finally gives in. The next day, she marches right up to Reid and asks him if he’d like to go out sometime. He turns three shades of red before managing to agree, and they make a date for coffee that weekend. When the BAU gets called out on a case that Friday, she’s a little relieved that she has an extra week’s reprieve. What is she even supposed to say to him on a date? If it’s as bad as she fears it might be, she figures she can always discreetly text a friend and ask them to call her faking a family emergency. Dares are dares, however, and she intends to at least show up.

The following Saturday they finally go out for coffee. He’s already waiting at a table inside when she arrives, nervously tapping his feet and checking his watch. His clothing isn’t much different than what she’s seen him wear to the office – a button down shirt, Converse, a sweater – but it’s slightly less formal. No tie, and none of the trademark intensity he harbors when he’s focused on a case. The smile he greets her with is hesitant, but it looks good on him. Something that surprises her.  She’s never really seen Reid happy.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” he says as they sit down, coffee in hand. “Thought maybe you might decide you didn’t want to go on a date with me after all.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” Not since she accepted a dare from Morgan and Penelope. This is for them. She just has to make it through one date. “So, um, tell me a little more about yourself. Outside of work, that is. Something I wouldn’t know.”

Reid ponders this, then says, “Well, I grew up in Las Vegas. I have three tropical fish. And I once kissed Lila Archer.”

Another surprise. Her jaw drops. “You mean that Lila Archer? The actress?” He nods sheepishly, and she tries to picture how exactly the shy Spencer Reid managed to kiss Lila Archer. Upon being asked, he tells her a little about the case they worked, in which she was stalked. He stayed with her to protect her, and one thing led to another.

“What about you?” he asks. “What’s something I wouldn’t know about you?”

She laughs. “I don’t think I can top kissing Lila Archer, but I do have a cat and a pretty extensive movie collection. Not to brag, but I’m also a pretty good surfer – and I don’t just mean the internet. I went to college in Florida, near the ocean, and every chance we got my roommates and I would go out on the water.”

“Do you miss it?”

Nobody has asked her that in a long time. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. There’s nowhere nearby to surf, and I rarely get enough time off from work to make a trip to a good beach. The Potomac really has nothing on the ocean.”

“Why’d you choose to come to Washington?”

“I was a CompSci and PoliSci major, and I wanted to do something that made a difference, you know? I found out about the FBI’s intelligence analyst positions at a job fair after grad school, and somehow managed to pass the Basic Field Training Course. It just felt really right. There are still times I doubt myself though, or wonder if I would’ve been better somewhere else.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m really glad you’re here.” There’s such sincerity in his words that the dread she’d been feeling all week begins to ebb away. From there, the conversation gets so much easier. They talk about school and work and the places they’ve lived. They discover they love many of the same books and movies, and that the few TV shows he watches happen to be some of her favorites. When he mentions that his fish are named Ophelia, Hamlet, and Horatio, she bursts out laughing. A flash of hurt crosses his face, thinking she’s laughing at him. Not wanting to offend him she quickly explains that her cat is named Robin Goodfellow.

“As in Puck?” he clarifies.

“Exactly the one! I’ve always loved Shakespeare, and A Midsummer Night’s Dream is my favorite.” And of the play’s characters, that mischievous Puck held a special place in her heart. “Of course Robin Goodfellow is a bit lengthy, so he mostly just answers to Puck. Just like the character.”

The more they talk, the more she realizes how much she has overlooked about him. Or perhaps she wasn’t looking at him carefully enough. Morgan is classically handsome, his physical appearance and confidence a winning combination that lures people towards him. In a crowded room, people – especially women – tend to gravitate towards him. Reid is different. He’s pretty, but his awkwardness and shyness mask what lies in his heart. For the first time in two years, she’s really seeing him.

For the first time she’s seeing his heart.

It is full and it is kind, and so overwhelmingly gentle. Reid is perfectly polite, but not to the point of formality. His laugh makes her feel warm, and when he smiles at her, the corners of his eyes crinkle and she knows she has his full attention. He’s dorky in the most endearing ways, and as a fellow nerd, she appreciates his love for learning and sci-fi shows and classic literature.

Three and a half hours they talk, until the shop begins to close up. Disappointment washes over her, followed by the startling realization that she’s disappointed because it means she has to part ways with Reid. It’s not a joke anymore. It’s not some annoying dare Penelope put her up to. She likes him. She really likes him. The last three and a half hours have been the best date she’s been on in a very long time. Just sitting and talking to someone who is so genuinely sweet and smart and interesting. She doesn’t want it to end.

Reid looks at his watch, and sighs. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go to the Folger Shakespeare Library, but it’s too late. They’ve already closed for the day.” And now he’s inviting her to visit the Folger Library? It’s been on her list of DC things to do for ages, but she never wanted to go alone, and none of her friends shared an interest in the Bard. Going with Reid though is a thing she very much wants to do. “Maybe we could go some other time?”

A second date. He wants to go out with her again. In that moment, she knows that’s what she wants too. Four hours ago she would’ve found the notion impossible and ridiculous. How much has changed in such a short time period. A laugh leaves her lips before she can stop it.

“What is it?” he asks. “Was I that bad of a date?”

“No, of course not! You were amazing. It’s just, well, it’s kind of a funny story. You see, the reason I asked you out was because at lunch one day Penelope and Morgan dared me to go on a date with you and I-”

“Wait.” The worried tone he had before is gone, replaced by harshness. Anger, as he narrows his eyes at her. “You’re telling me that you only wanted to go out with me because of a dare?”

Heat floods her cheeks, accompanied by shame. “It’s not like that! I mean, it was, but they just thought it would be funny to-”

He holds up a hand. “Just stop, okay? I thought you were different. I thought you were nice, and actually interested in me. But this is obviously just some joke to you! You know what? I’m tired of being the butt of the joke. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not some machine. I have a heart. I have feelings, and I’m done with other people trampling on them. Go home and have a good laugh about the weird guy at work with Morgan and Garcia. Leave me alone.” His voice rises higher the more frustrated he becomes, and when he’s finished he turns around and practically runs down the block. Away from her.

Y/N stands still on the sidewalk, shell-shocked from his outburst. Guilty. Ashamed. There’s a hint of despair as she realizes she may have just ruined her chances with the nicest man she’s met. Worse, she’s hurt him. Brushing away tears, she goes home alone.

For a week he avoids her. Disappears from the office when she comes by, ignores her when he passes her by chance. Text messages and calls never receive a reply from his end. Her feelings don’t reach him. Penelope says he’s hardly talking to her or Morgan unless it’s strictly work-related. After agonizing and analyzing, she finally finds the courage to corner him as he’s leaving one day.

The look on his face speaks enough. Eyes narrowed, mouth pressed into a hard line, jaw set. He’s furious with her, even now.

“I know I’m the last person you want to talk to,” she says, “but please just hear me out. For five minutes, Reid, that’s all I ask. Please just let me explain.”

Reid makes a show of staring at his watch. Every second is going to count. “Yes, it was a dare, okay? They dared me to go out with you because they thought it would be amusing. But it was only after they realized I shared so many interests with you that they suggested it. Maybe it was part of a joke, but deep down I think that they just want you to be happy, and they thought maybe we would be happy together. And I was. I really, really was. I didn’t expect that, but as the night went on I saw just how wonderful you really are. You showed me your heart and you were vulnerable and you were kind, and I like all of that about you. When we were leaving I knew I wanted this to be more than just one date.”

Pausing, she takes a deep breath and pushes forwards. “Which is why I told you about the dare. I knew if you found out from someone else, you would be upset and anything we could’ve had would be over. I thought if I was honest then we could laugh it off but I would be able to see you again. I really like you, and I’m sorry I hurt you. If you can forgive me, I would really like the chance to make it up to you.”

So many words are fit into such a minuscule amount of seconds that when she finishes, she feels a little lightheaded. Reid blinks a few times, then asks, “You really think we could have something?”

“Absolutely,” she pants, still trying to catch her breath.

“This isn’t just part of some elaborate prank?”

It’s her turn now, to put her heart out in the open. Allowing him to see her for who she is and not what assumptions he’s attached to her.

“I swear it. You can ask Penelope if you don’t believe me. Everything I told you that night was true. Everything I felt was true as well. I just want to show you I meant it. I don’t care what we do. We can go to the library or the park. You can come over and meet my cat, Puck. As long as it’s with you. I just want to spend time with you, Spencer.” It’s the first time she’s addressed him by his first name, but it feels so natural on her lips.

After an eternity’s pause, he says, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. I trust you, Y/N. I’m still hurt, but I’m willing to give you a second chance. After all, Shakspeare did say that “the course of true love never did run smooth.””

She grins. He’s quoting A Midsummer’s Night Dream, her favorite. “That William was quite brilliant. In that case, “Give me your hands if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.”” Puck’s famous final words. To her surprise, he does exactly that. Long fingers encircle her own, and when their eyes meet she is certain beyond all doubt that they are truly seeing each other. Looking not with their eyes, but with their hearts.

A few days later, when he repeats the gesture on their second date, she stands on her toes and kisses him. Pulling away, she finds him with the biggest smile on his face. Smiling at her, because of her. He looks happy. Honestly, truly happy.

She was right that evening in the coffee shop. Happy does look good on him.

[libertariantaoist]

The headline was alarming: “Trump to Mexico: Take Care of ‘Bad Hombres,’ or  US Might.” The Associated Press story went on to report:

“President Donald Trump warned in a phone call with his Mexican counterpart  that he was ready to send U.S. troops to stop "bad hombres down there"  unless the Mexican military does more to control them, according to an excerpt  of a transcript of the conversation obtained by The Associated Press….’You have  a bunch of bad hombres down there,’ Trump told Pena Nieto, according to the  excerpt given to AP. ‘You aren’t doing enough to stop them. I think your military  is scared. Our military isn’t, so I just might send them down to take care of  it.’

“A person with access to the official transcript of the phone call provided  only that portion of the conversation to The Associated Press. The person gave  it on condition of anonymity because the administration did not make the details  of the call public.

“The Mexican website Aristegui Noticias on Tuesday  published a similar account of the phone call, based on the reporting of journalist  Dolia Estevez. The report described Trump as humiliating Pena Nieto in a confrontational  conversation….

“Americans may recognize Trump’s signature bombast in the comments, but  the remarks may carry more weight in Mexico.”

While the denials of the Mexican government were interspersed throughout the  text, the context clearly framed their statements as self-serving: after all,  who wants to admit to being humiliated? Certainly not Nieto, whose approval  ratings are in the mid-teens.

So, is Trump getting ready to invade Mexico?

No way, Jose: the AP story turned out to be fake news, just as I  said it was. As none other than Jake Tapper of CNN, hardly a Trump fan,  reported a  few hours later:

“According to an excerpt of the transcript of the call with Peña Nieto provided  to CNN, Trump said, ‘You have some pretty tough hombres in Mexico that you may  need help with. We are willing to help with that big-league, but they have be  knocked out and you have not done a good job knocking them out.’

“Trump made an offer to help Peña Nieto with the drug cartels. The excerpt  of the transcript obtained by CNN differs with an official internal readout  of the call that wrongly suggested Trump was contemplating sending troops to  the border in a hostile way.

“The Associated Press report said Trump threatened to send  US troops to stop criminals in Mexico unless the government did more to control  them, but both the US and Mexican governments denied details from the story.  Sources described the AP’s reporting as being based upon a readout  –  written  by aides  –  not a transcript.”

Quite a difference between the AP story and the reality.  One wonders how many people still believe the AP version. My guess: quite a  few. Once fake news gets out there, it’s hard to reel it back in. After all,  there are still people who believe Saddam Hussein had weapons of mass destruction.

Which goes to show that fake news isn’t new, and  yet one could make a good case that, ever since Trump won the White House, it’s  turned into a pandemic. Just off the top of my head, here’s five recent examples:

The “news” that Trump had moved the bust of Martin Luther King out of the Oval Office – fake!

Politico’s allegation that Treasury Secretary Steve Mnuchin foreclosed on the home of an elderly widow for 27 cents – wrong!

The much retweeted tweet that had Trump blowing a kiss to FBI director James Comey at a White House reception (the implication being that Trump was thanking him for releasing information on the investigation into Hillary Clinton’s emails)  – untrue!

The story that a Russian bank was directly connected to the Trump campaign via computer, presumably in order to transmit Putin’s cash (and orders) directly to his “puppet” – debunked!

I could go on, but you get the idea. A veritable  tsunami of unverified (and unverifiable)”news” about Trump and his administration  has spewed forth from the open spigot of the “mainstream” media on a daily basis,  only to be disproved shortly afterwards. The corrections, when they are printed,  often come too late to undo the damage – and that’s the whole point. The effect  is to create a penumbra of disaster and dark menace around the Trump White House,  and one can’t help but think that this is what is intended.

And then there’s a more sinister development, exemplified by the  latest news about the Special Forces raid carried out against an alleged  al-Qaeda target in Yemen, in which a large number of civilians were killed in  addition to one US soldier (four others were injured). What we are hearing now  is that al-Qaeda  had foreknowledge of the raid, either because drones were flying much lower  prior to the raid or for other reasons: in any case, their redoubt was fortified,  and the terrorists were ready and waiting. On the way to their target, the Special  Forces team realized all this, but decided to go ahead anyway. The result was  a slaughter: an entire village was wiped out, we sustained losses (including  a crashed helicopter) and the mission, in retrospect, seems like it was a disaster.  We are also hearing that the mission was disapproved at least twice by the Obama  administration, and that Trump approved it when it was brought up again. Which  raises the question: why was the military reiterating this proposal when it  had already been rejected at least twice? Presidents don’t make these decisions  in a vacuum. One has to assume that the military said they had intelligence  that augured success rather than what actually occurred.

And intelligence is the key word here. Who is responsible for supplying  the President with intelligence in situations like this? Why, it’s the same  “intelligence community” that has been conducting a rather open  war on Donald J. Trump.

Which brings to mind Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer’s ominous  warning to Trump: “You take on the intelligence community, they have six  ways from Sunday to get back at you.”

In short, this whole incident screams “set up”: do  the Never Trumpers in the CIA have blood on their hands?

From fake news to fake intelligence – this is the  world we find ourselves in. And the problem is compounded by a systematic campaign  against alleged fake news by those who are doing the most to generate it – the  “mainstream” media.

We here at Antiwar.com have been among the targets of this campaign: the professional  witch-hunters  at “PropOrNot” (in  tandem with the Washington Post) putting us on their list of “Russian  propaganda” sites, and the much-touted “fake news” list  put out by Melissa Zimdars, a media professor at Merrimack College in Massachusetts,  which labels us as “biased” and “unreliable.” Marcy  Wheeler does a good job of debunking Zimdars’ methodology, but one has to  wonder how one of the only news outlets to accurately predict that the Iraq  war was based on a lie, and warn that it would turn into an utter disaster could  be dubbed “unreliable.”

This collapse of the journalistic profession couldn’t  have come at a worse moment. We are heading into uncharted waters with the Trump  administration, and the media’s constant barrage aimed at him actually undermines  any real scrutiny: they’ve cried “Wolf!” so many times that when the real wolf  is at the door they’ll have lost all credibility. This is particularly true  in the international arena, where the threat of war is looming large: from the  Persian Gulf (Yemen, Iran) to Ukraine (where Kiev is engaging in dangerous provocations),  to the South China Sea, the arc of crisis is getting bigger and more volatile  by the day.

Yet the “news” media is so busy bickering with the new administration over  such burning issues as the crowd size at the Inauguration that they have little  time or use for such trivial matters as war and peace. And when they do concern  themselves with such questions, their bad case of Trump  Derangement Syndrome prevents them from seeing – and telling us – what’s  really going on.

This presents us here at Antiwar.com with a difficult  problem: we rely on reporting from other media to give our readers an accurate  picture of events as they unfold. However, our job is made much harder if a  large section of the media has simply given up reporting the facts. The solution,  if there is one, is to be very careful about what we report as news: to check  and re-check, without jumping to conclusions, and then check again.

In short, we are doing our best to navigate these  troubled waters, and I can say unequivocally that we are absolutely committed  to reporting the truth rather than merely repeating the conventional wisdom.  I am pledging to our readers right here and now that we aren’t letting our biases  take precedence over factual reporting.

Yes, Professor Zimdars is correct, at least to some  extent: we do have a bias in favor of peace. But that doesn’t mean that  the information we impart to our readers is “unreliable.” The reason for this  is simple: our readers aren’t stupid. Once burned, lesson learned: we  would soon lose all credibility if we took to reporting only what seemed to  conform to our ideological preferences. Our readers would find that neither  convincing nor worth supporting – and we do depend on our readers for the resources  we need to keep this web site going.

We’ve been bringing you the news of the world, from  an anti-interventionist perspective, for over fifteen year now, but I have to  say we’ve never faced challenges quite like this in all the time we’ve been  online. The air is thick with propaganda, and – worse – hysteria, on both sides  of the spectrum. In the face of all this, we are doing our best to pursue the  straight and narrow path of truth before ideology, avoiding both the Scylla  of confirmation bias and the Charybdis of groupthink.

Wish us luck: we’re going to need it.