#this got away from me but i had to excise this out of my system

[thessalian]

Thess vs the Human Digestive System

VENT BREAK.

So New Girl is back today, and back to the usual tricks. She was blatant enough about it today for me to spot the pattern.

See, I was typing away, we'd got down to 260-odd, things were about as good as they get even with the really obvious cherry-picking of bits of dictation ... and then suddenly, I pop out of what was for once a fairly simple bit of dictation to find that the queue has forty more items in it than when I last looked, many of them timestamped for before the one I just finished typing. They're not even all that long, so I wonder, what the fuck is the problem?

I start in on the first one of these - a gallbladder, fairly short and straightforward, especially if you've been doing them for years. Come out of that one a couple of minutes later, and the queue is suddenly down by twenty, and I see by the timestamps that more cherry-picking has been done later in the day. So I look at this and go, "Okay, most of the ones that got thrown back were the same couple of doctors, and their accents aren't that bad, and they're not that long, so again I ask what the fuck?" But it's no good asking questions of these people, so back to the typing.

Another gallbladder.

And another.

And another.

Half a dozen of them, all told.

So I think what New Girl is doing is picking them up, listening just long enough to figure out what they are, and then just ... not doing the ones she doesn't want to do. Maybe she's not comfortable with them - but if so, the only way for her to gain comfort with them is to do them. Maybe she just doesn't want to do them. Maybe all she really wants to do is the really simple ones, like spot biopsies of various parts of the colon and oesophagus, which are honestly the easiest ones to do.

Well, tough shit, no pun intended. Why should she get the easy spot biopsies when I'm typing up all the resections (which is when you actually take out a whole segment of bowel, usually because there's a tumour or perforation in there)? I get the whole bowel resections. I get the kidneys. The testes. The hysterectomy specimens and ovaries and fallopian tubes. The placentas. The breasts (well, the mastectomies and major excisions, anyway; they're fine doing the little core biopsies). Any skin biopsy that's not a straight-up punch. The livers and gallbladders. In short, all the complicated stuff. And New Girl not only cherry-picks the short ones, but also cherry-picks the short ones that are even remotely more than "number of specimens, measurements of specimens, done".

I cannot express enough how absolutely sick to the back teeth I am of bowel resection specimens. Don't even get me started on placentas and the fucking pancreas.

So it's still going to be an overtime night and after this one anterior resection that I don't want to do but am now stuck with, I'm stuck with a fifteen minute monstrosity of multiple skin excision biopsies.

I mean, I feel really bad for the patients whose bodies used to contain these pieces of tissue, and the doctors are just doing their jobs, and I feel bad about kvetching. However ... my colleagues need to share the fucking load, and they don't, and I'm tired and in a lot of pain and just so FED THE FUCK UP.

I'd say, "Hey, at least it's the weekend", but guess who's going to have to do overtime on Saturday too, because we're only into dictations from about 1pm on Thursday (again, because I've had all the 5-10 minute ones all day and the other two are fucking dawdling, and have been since Scruffmen went on his half-day annual leave). I want this bullshit cleared out as much as possible so maybe I won't have to do this shit next week too.

Right. VENT BREAK over. I will stuff an apple into my face and keep going.

[fierceawakening]

Still thinking about this, and I can’t say whether the desire for revenge is peculiarly white, but I can say I’ve felt that desire after serious trauma, and while I agree it’s generally better to work through it and not give in to it (given the option to take revenge, I chose against it for that reason and am proud of and comfortable with my decision), something always puts me off about these takes.

For context and very poss trig, I have a physical disability and grew up being told I’d need major corrective surgery in adolescence. When it came time, I was basically told I could have surgery then or need a hip replacement when I got older and would struggle to recover from it. Possible complications were talked about as vanishingly rare.

I had them, multiple times. I found out in the course of all this that they’re not all that rare and that many people end up needing several procedures. I went through absolute hell—and when I was a teen and everyone is feeling cynical and scared. I eventually had to switch surgeons because the original guy repeatedly failed to fix it and, when I asked what the fuck, blamed me and my body, specifically and personally.

I spent a lot of time convalescing and a lot of that time suffering horribly. And I dreamed up a lot of things I wanted to do to this guy. A LOT of them. I explicitly and specifically wanted him to suddenly and out of nowhere fear for his life as I did, so a lot of my fantasies involved finding ways to send death threats and make sure they stayed anonymous.

Did I do it? No! That would have both been morally wrong and not healed the trauma itself, which I still would have had to find ways to resolve. I didn’t even end up suing the guy for malpractice, as when I asked about that I was told (rightly or wrongly) that he was famous for these surgeries and almost certainly would keep his license and his ability to perform them. I’d just get money.

Which I didn’t want. The thought of me having a pile of money while he went ahead and hurt more kids disgusted me in a way I’m not sure I can express. I wanted justice or nothing, so based on the information available to me I walked away.

Which is what every story with a moral lesson about revenge, right down to TF One, SAYS you’re supposed to do. I HAVE the good guy badge. I let Sentinel go.

But here is the thing about that desire for revenge that none of the stories say because they’re too busy imparting their lesson (unless they’re The Princess Bride which I think is why we love it so much):

While actually *taking* revenge doesn’t solve your actual problem, as the PTSD is still in your head whether or not your violator is alive or dead, happy or sad… the *desire* for revenge is different.

The desire for revenge is the part of you that knows you didn’t deserve it. That violently rebels against the unfairness. That loves you enough to fight for you, to get messy for you, to refuse and rage against even the part of yourself that wants to accept this, to take the blame, to say the world is just and you were in the way.

Is the desire for revenge inherent to our justice system? Looked at this way I don’t see how anyone could ever excise it.

Because at bottom, at the end of the day, the desire for revenge IS the desire for justice.

It’s the untempered version. The version that has to be beaten into proper shape, melted and annealed and crafted.

It’s the raw material that knowing you deserve better is made of.

You can’t build anything with no ore to shape it from.

How precisely should we shape it? How do we know when we’re done?

*Those* are the hard questions, and the ones worth asking.

Angel on shoulder: Are we really sure we want to pathologize extremely common emotions after traumatic events? I worry that, in the name of supposedly creating a new and better system, we’re condemning people for being human while not actually laying out a clear roadmap for consistently being more humane to offenders.

Devil on other shoulder: My name is Inigo Montoya…

(Seriously if the new thing we all need to be unlearning is a desire for revenge, I’m baffled that no one has Your Fave Is Problematic’d Inigo yet.)

[yeyinde]

Imagine this but with Price on that hospital bed, and you just run to him like that

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMYdSkH9G/

UGH!!! the song choice too??? like please 😭

Imagine if they don't let you see him because, um. You're not family. And you find out that he doesn't have an emergency contact. Never wanted one. Would rather die alone than burden anyone with the tremendous guilt of seeing him break in his weakest moments.

Laswell has to push you into the room after threatening the staff to open his damn door up, and when you see him, he's distant. He doesn't want you in the room right now. Doesn't want you to see him like this.

But the way you try and hold yourself together for him breaks him in a way he'd never wanted to feel. He's the ashlar of the team. The curtain wall. A castle is nothing with its strongest defences, and right now he can barely breathe without feeling as though he's suffocating under the weight of his own ribcage collapsing on lungs.

He tastes ichor in his throat when you reach out, ginger fingers brushing back the matted hair over his forehead, plucking out the blood, grit, and viscera on his beard. You're trying to clean him up because despite the moor he keeps between you, you know. You know him unlike anyone else in his life, and you know how much he hates this. How much your presence in his weakest moment is smothering him. But he also knows that you're not leaving his side. That they'll have to pry you from his bedside, kicking and screaming, before you ever leave him unarmed and defenceless on your own volition.

And then slowly, when your hand curls over his raw cheek, buried under layer of soot and pieces of pulverised metal, wry curls matted with his blood, sweat, he reaches for you. His palm usually scorches your skin, but right now, he's never felt colder. He cups your hand in his, holding it against his face, and gazes at you.

You want to say something. He can see your jaw churn with the words that refuse to unglue themselves from your smog-filled throat. Too many trampling over the other, and none potent enough, strong enough, to break through.

So, he slips his fingers through the spasming brackets of your own, and holds you steady.

"I'll be alrigh', love."

And when you do speak, it's a torrent. Artillery fire. He tastes napalm in the air. "Yeah, you will."

It's equal parts a plea, a bargain, and a threat.

He huffs, and pretends the ruck of his shattered ribs doesn't burn like a wildfire in his nerves.

You notice, anyway.

"John..."

"Come on," he shifts over, bones grinding against each other, loose and rattling inside his battered innards. "Lay down with me."

It's clumsy and awkward, and borders on agony, but having you tucked against his side, keeping him together, holding the galvanised pieces of him in your trembling clutch, is worth every lash of fire that ripples over his being, raw and scorched. You hold him, cauterising the wounds with just the tremulous breaths you take, the hitch you try to hide, buried in his clavicle. John's arms are heavy on you, but you bear the brunt of his weight, and he knows that if you could, you'd siphon the pain from his marrow until all he felt was whole.

"What can I do for you?"

"Jus' stay here, love. S'all I need."

"Yeah?"

Your lachrymose eyes are a battering ram to the last vestiges of his stalwart veneer. He breaks in your hold; crumpled muskeg in the palm of your hand.

He draws you closer despite the searing pain that richochets through him. Lips press to your temple, tasting the cold sweat that gathers against your hairline.

"Always."

[miserablesme]

The Les Miserables Changelog Part 2: 1985-1986 West End

Hello, everyone! This is the latest edition in my attempt to chronicle all of the musical and lyrical changes which the show Les Miserables has undergone over the years. Today, we look at the differences between the later of the two available Barbican preview audios (more on that in Part 1) and the West End variant of the musical as it existed in 1986. Only one rather poor quality audio is available of the show's pre-Broadway, post-Barbican form (though a friend of a friend has multiple masters from the era that she apparently keeps meaning to digitize). It is known to come from 1986, but the exact date remains a mystery. As such we cannot know when exactly most of the changes might have been made.

Reportedly (according to The Complete Book of Les Miserables) the majority of these refinements were made between the closing of the Barbican show and the opening of the West End one. However, some further refinements were doubtless made during the Barbican previews, and some likely were made between the opening of the West End production and whenever the audio was recorded. With all that cleared up, let's get started!

As I mentioned in Part 1, the very early Barbican previews of the opening "Work Song" featured this chain of lyrics (no pun intended):

I’ve done no wrong

Sweet Jesus, hear my prayer

Look down, look down

Sweet Jesus doesn’t care

I killed a man

He tried to steal my wife

Look down, look down

She wasn’t worth your life

I know she’ll wait

I know that she’ll be true

Look down, look down

She’s long forgotten you

As has also been established, later previews removed one sequence of lines to create the following exchange:

I’ve done no wrong

Sweet Jesus, hear my prayer

Look down, look down

Sweet Jesus doesn’t care

I killed a man

He tried to steal my wife

Look down, look down

She wasn’t worth your life

However, by 1986 another sequence was removed and the originally removed one was added back then. Thus, the still-current lyrics as of today are as follows:

I’ve done no wrong

Sweet Jesus, hear my prayer

Look down, look down

Sweet Jesus doesn’t care

I know she’ll wait

I know that she’ll be true

Look down, look down

She’s long forgotten you

A much better choice of cuts in my opinion. The point of the opening scene is to present the prisoners sympathetically, as comparatively innocent victims of an overly brutal and elitist police system. Establishing a member of the chain gang as literally being a murderer doesn't really help send that message!

Everything stays the same until "Fantine's Arrest". The Barbican previews feature this sequence:

(FANTINE)

There's a child who sorely needs me

Please monsieur, she's but that high

Holy God! Is there no mercy?

If I go to jail she'll die

(TOWNSPEOPLE[?])

Take this harlot now this minute

Let there be a full report

Let her go back in the morning

Let her answer to the court

(FANTINE)

Gentle Jesus! Won't you save me?

Are there tears enough to cry?

(JAVERT)

It's the same pathetic story

Please monsieur, my child will die!

I have heard such protestations...

By the 1986 recording, everything between "Take this harlot" and "Please monsieur, my child will die!" has been totally removed. I have a bit of a soft spot for that sequence, though I can't earnestly say the musical lost anything by removing it. Indeed Javert comes across as unbelievably heartless there!

As Part 1 pointed out, the earlier Barbican preview had Valjean shout "You know where to find me!" at the end of "Who Am I?", while the later preview did not. The 1986 recording interestingly reinserts that line, but now Valjean speaks it much more casually, without the slightly cheesy passion of the first recording. This makes me wonder whether or not it was initially removed because it was hard to take seriously, and a calmer rendition was reinstated as a compromise? Who knows.

A subtle change occurs at the beginning of the "Confrontation" sequence. During the Barbican previews, the number opens with a few notes being played and then repeated. However, by the 1986 recording the notes do not repeat. It goes straight into Javert's announcement (which Roger Allam has now learned to sing on time!) after the notes play the first time. The sequence would stay this way for quite awhile before being further shortened - more on that in a later edition!

We now go to the subsequent number, Little Cosette's famous "Castle on a Cloud" song. The Barbican previews give her a few lines before the main number starts (sung in a similar tune to her remarks about Mme. Thenardier's arrival at the end of the song):

They’ll come back any minute

And I’m nowhere near finished

Sweeping and scrubbing and polishing the floor

It’s the same every day, oh please!

Don’t let Madame hit me again

I should be used to it, but then

I know a place where nobody has to work too hard

And where I won’t be lonely again

These lines, taken closely from the original French concept album, don't really add much to the number plot-wise that won't be stated later except for more explicit confirmation that Mme. Thenardier is abusive. Perhaps partly for this reason, by the 1986 recording these lines are removed, and after the opening instrumentals it goes straight into the number we all know.

As I previously mentioned in Part 1, the later recording I have of the Barbican previews cut out the following lines during the preamble to Master of the House. I originally mistakenly claimed that the cuts occured after Thenardier's verse, but in actuality that verse too is removed.

(THENARDIER)

My band of soaks, my den of disollutes

My dirty jokes, my always pissed as newts

My sons of whores spend their lives in my inn

Homing pigeons homing in

They fly through my doors

And their money's good as yours

(CUSTOMERS)

Ain’t got a clue what he put into his stew

Must’ve scraped it off the street

Hell, what a wine

Châteauneuf de Turpentine

Must’ve pressed it with his feet

Landlord over here

Where’s the bloody man

One more for the road

One more slug of gin

Just one more or my old man is gonna do me in

By the 1986 recording, they are back in all their glory. Indeed, as you can read in Part 1 of this series Trevor Nunn himself has confirmed that the crew decided the number didn't work as well without the full preamble (an exception being, shockingly enough, Cameron Mackintosh).

During the Barbican previews, "Master of the House" was followed by a beautiful Well Scene between Valjean and Little Cosette:

(LITTLE COSETTE)

There is a castle on a cloud

I like to go there in my sleep

Aren’t any floors for me to sweep

(A FEW SECONDS OF INSTRUMENTALS)

(VALJEAN)

Don’t be afraid of me, my dear

Tell me your name and have no fear

How cold it grows when the sun has set

(LITTLE COSETTE)

I’m not afraid

Monsieur, my name’s Cosette

(VALJEAN)

Nor will you be afraid again

I come to take you from this place

There is a better world, you’ll see

(LITTLE COSETTE)

Give me your hand, and walk with me.

This leads into the humming duet between Valjean and Cosette. However, in what I consider the biggest mistake of this era's adjustments, the Well Scene was totally excised from the West End version and "Master of the House" is following directly by the humming duet. Trevor Nunn remarked a degree of regret about this in 1990's The Complete Book of Les Miserables. I don't have the book on hand right now, but I'll put down the exact quote later.

Of course, the Well Scene would later return in a much different form, but let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Perhaps to compensate for the deleted scene, another scene is added after the "Waltz of Treachery" number. During the Barbican previews, Valjean's "It won't take you too long to forget" is followed by a lot of vamping and eventually a reprise of Valjean and Cosette's humming duet. The West End production slightly reduces the vamping from about one minute to about forty-five seconds, and adds a scene (sung in the tune of "Castle on a Cloud", specifically the "there is a lady all in white" part at first and the main chorus for "Nor will you be afraid again" onwards):

(LITTLE COSETTE)

We're going home right now, monsieur

What is your name

(VALJEAN)

Now my dear

I've names enough, I've got names to spare

But where I go, you always will be there

Nor will you be afraid again

There is a sun that's shining yet

(LITTLE COSETTE)

I'm going to call you my Papa

(VALJEAN)

I'm going to call you my Cosette

The normal humming duet follows. This is a fascinating scene which seems to be exclusive to the brief era after the Barbican previews but before Broadway. It's interesting how it incorporates elements both of the opening Well Scene and of the more well-known later closing scene to the "Waltz of Treachery". It's also intriguing how it incorporates elements not really touched upon this directly in any other version of the musical, specifically just how mysterious and secretive Valjean is to the world in general as well as the fact that Cosette, in fact, is not truly Cosette's given name.

Everything seems to be the same from this point until "The Attack on Rue Plumet". In the Barbican previews, this is how the opening goes:

(EPONINE)

'Parnasse, what are you doing

So far out of our patch?

(MONTPARNASSE)

This house, we're gonna do it!

Rich man, plenty of scratch

You remember he's the bloke wot got away the other day

Got a number on his chest, perhaps a fortune put away

Took off like a guilty man, why would he want to disappear?

Now we're gonna do him right, this time no one will interfere

Everything from "Took off like a guilty man" onwards is removed from the West End version. Later in the number, we hear approximately the following exchange in the Barbican show. Fans have debated what exactly some of the lyrics are, but this is how I hear them:

(CLAQUESOUS)

What a palaver, what an absolute treat

To watch a cat and his father pick a bone in the street

(THENARDIER)

Not a sound out of you

(EPONINE)

What do you care if things scare me

(THENARDIER)

Listen 'Ponine, there might be jewels inside

There could be something for all

There could be bruises enough

You will have your share

(EPONINE)

Well I told you I'd do it, I told you I'd do it

The West End production reduces the vamping prior to this scene. Additionally, everything between "What do you care" and "You will have your share" is removed, meaning the "I told you I'd do it" is a direct remark to "Not a sound out of you". This is a much more linear and succinct way of moving the plot in my humble opinion!

That's it for act one! Act two begins largely the same, up until the scene where Gavroche reveals Javert to be a traitor. First off, Javert's original claim that they will "play their games" is changed to "spoil their games".

Next is probably this version's biggest change in the entire musical up to this point. Originally Gavroche sung approximately the following lines (once again, the recordings aren't as clear as would be desirable) in a unique tune heard nowhere else in the musical:

Good evening, dear inspector, lovely evening my dear!

A charlie for a copper who pays a call

I know who you’re supposed to be, Inspector Javert

Who never showed no mercy to no one at all

So don’t believe a word, none of it will wash

This time you’re reckoned without Gavroche!

The West End version scrapped this sequence and replaced it with "Little People" (which originally appeared in a much longer form later in the musical). This is how it went:

Good evening dear inspector, lovely evening my dear

I know this man, my friends, his name's Inspector Javert

So don't believe a word he says 'cause none of it's true

It only goes to show what little people can do

And little people know, when little people fight

We may look easy picking but we've got some bite

So never kick a dog because he's just a pup

You'd better run for cover when the pup grows up!

This edited placement of "Little People" is often attributed to the original Broadway production, but in fact it made its debut in the West End show. I'm not sure when exactly this was, given that the original cast album uses the long version. However, by the 1986 recording this is how it goes. It should be noted that it's not quite in its Broadway form, however; most notably, "We'll fight like twenty armies and we won't give up!" is not present.

A minor difference occurs during the First Attack sequence. In the Barbican production, this is how the students respond to their victory:

(GRANTAIRE)

By God, we've won the day

(LESGLES)

See how they run away

The West End production swaps the two students' lines, allowing Grantaire's slightly incredulous spirit to have a more poignant and/or amusing effect depending on your perspective.

Consequently given the new placement of the song, the show obviously had to be edited to remove the original "Little People" number. Originally, this is the way the show transitioned between the First Attack and "Little People":

(ENJOLRAS)

Courfeyrac, you take the watch

They won't attack until it's light

Everybody stay awake

We must be ready for the fight

For the final fight

Let no one sleep tonight

(GRANTAIRE)

Only little boys may sleep

For little people need their rest

Little tucks are quickly drained

And little grapes are quickly pressed

Come on little mite

It's time to say goodnight

Cue the original "Little People" number in all of its long, silly glory (in case you somehow don't know it, here are the lyrics). The West End production (and everything afterwards) cuts Grantaire's verse, so that the scene transitions straight from Enjolras' announcement to "Drink with Me". As much as I love the full-length "Little People" number (and I really do love it), I admit removing it was definitely the right choice. It's just so sweet and optimistic, it feels out of place in a musical as tragic and cynical as Les Miserables. It doesn't help that its placement is between a high-stakes action scene and a somber, slightly drunk reflection on the nature of friendships, sex, and romance. It's a wonderful song but a terrible Les Mis song. I do love it, though, and I also love how Grantaire manages to make his pre-song metaphors alcohol-related.

In the sewers, the Barbican recordings feature a unique tune not heard anywhere elsewhere in the musical (it can be heard here) before transitioning to the final Valjean-Javert confrontation. Apparently, this music was accompanied by a short chase scene. However, by the time of the 1986 recording there is instead what is essentially one repeated note which then transitions into an instrumental version of "Look Down". This is followed by the same Valjean-Javert confrontation as before.

And that just about sums this part up! If I missed anything feel free to let me know, as my goal is to create a changelog as thorough and complete as possible. I plan on making more parts in the near future covering all the changes that have been made in the show up until this day (discounting concerts). Any feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated.

As a side note, both for this project and my own enjoyment, I want as complete a collection of Les Miserables audios as possible. I already have most of what’s commonly circulated, but if you have any audios or videos you know are rare, I’d love it if you DMed me!

Until the turntable puts me at the forefront again, good-bye…

[a-stitch-in-time-and-space]

Headcanon: Julian Bashir is autistic and has frequent sensory overload, and the only two people who can help him are Garek and O’ Brien. Me? Projecting? It’s more likely than you think!!!

Ha, moooood. Which on that note I have a somewhat intense fic here in which Julian has a meltdown. It’s not related to sensory issues so much as “oh boy a lot of shit’s happened to him” but if you want more O'Brien helping him out after this – so because we gave that fic to O'Brien, let’s give this one to Garak.

Also can we talk about the fact that it’s canon that Julian and the other augments can hear sounds at decibels that non-augments can’t and that it causes them pain, but Julian just taught himself to not react, like fuck, how did someone write this and not follow through on Julian-Bashir-is-autistic-and-or-otherwise-nd!

sorry for taking so long, a. this got a bit longish so it’s under a cut and b. I got distracted by the fact that I always want to see everyone’s notes on reblogs in case of interesting discussion points and i have just now learnt that that cannot be done easily if a lot of people reblog at once… oh hyper-fixation how you get me time and again

this takes place post-Doctor Bashir I Presume and alludes to the fact that during this time Garak and Bashir’s interactions were gradually stripped away in the show (because it too gay) - Andy Robinson ran with that in A Stitch In Time and had Garak write about how much he regretted the two of them not remaining close/hinted that he was in love with him… so take that background as you will.

—— More Space ——-

Thank goodness, he thought after an indeterminate amount of time. O'Brien was here. He would be able to calm him down, he would know how to come up with some soothing description of exactly which of DS9’s pistons or pipes or programs was currently making that noise and he’d either fix it or stay with him until it sorted itself out. Or maybe the noise was gone and the residual whining was just himself recreating it perfectly in his head, or maybe he was just too far gone by now for it to matter, but O'Brien would help. Since the two of them had become friends and some of Julian’s old ticks had returned after his augmentation had come to light, Miles had been a surprisingly steady presence in his life.

“Doctor?”

No, not Miles.

Garak.

He couldn’t make himself respond. His body felt like it was compressing him into a vice, with all his ability to focus somehow splintered into a million shards, each of them painful to the touch. Oh no, what if Garak touched him? If Garak touched him right now he might shatter or scream or something else entirely outside of his control, but talking was also impossible right now, so he couldn’t ask him not to touch, please don’t touch-

Garak sat down in front of him, far enough away that it didn’t feel like too… much.

“Doctor. You don’t need to say or do anything.”

He could manage that.

“I was wondering why you’d missed our lunch date. Very pleased to find you didn’t simply opt not to come without telling me, although I find the alternative to be distressing.”  He stopped talking for a moment then. “Apologies for breaking into your room. Again.”

While Garak simply sat and occasionally spoke Julian was dimly aware of the fact that he could feel his edges hardening again. The shards were being pulled back together.

He also noticed now that he was freezing. It usually happened like that, having sat sedentary for however long or coming down from some emotional extreme. He shivered.

“This station is cold,” said Garak.“The temperature, the lights, the people… all too cold.”

Julian managed a smile and it was like his mouth was freed from a curse. “It is, isn’t it.”

“Not to mention loud,” Garak added.

“All that machinery,” Julian nodded and spoke slowly. His mouth still needed to unstick. “Every time an alarm goes it’s like a sharp pain… I used to be… much better at this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I used to… I used to get these all the time as a child. Meltdowns, shutdowns, I think. But then my parents told me later that it was a side-effect of the augmentations and I tried to… to will myself to stop them, to bypass my natural instincts in order to not be found out and it worked, in a way, or at least nobody found out. I familiarised myself with and categorised any sights, sounds, smells, feelings I came across on earth during my Starfleet training and ordered them into lists and sublists: What I could handle mostly, what I could handle sometimes, what I needed to avoid at all costs. I managed to… to pretend. And then I came to Deep Space Nine and for awhile it was all too much again, I had to make new lists, but I managed, I really… I really did, I really did, I really-” he was talking himself into hyperventilating again, he knew this, but he couldn’t stop now, “- and then I got captured and it was like everything just stopped. I barely- I don’t even remember most of it, but when I got back it was so much worse -”

“Julian,” said Garak and the sound of his first name coming from Garak’s mouth surprised him back to the now. “Julian,” said Garak again. “You’re here. With me. On a floor that is quite cold, I might add.”

Julian breathed out and mumbled under the exhale. “One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.”

“What is that,” asked Garak.

“Counting my fingers. It… helps.”

“Noted,” and the easy way in which Garak seemed to have just accepted that he would be helping Julian again in future was another shock to his system, but then why wouldn’t he? Even if they hadn’t met up as often as they used to. Even if he was untrustworthy at heart and Julian could never figure out why Garak wanted his company at all. He found he missed Garak’s simple and complicated nature. It grounded him, somehow.

He got up off the floor, reaching out for Garak when he stumbled. He held him just tight enough to make sure that he wouldn’t fall. Not overcrowding – Julian suddenly remembered that Garak was claustrophobic. He must know how easily sensory inputs could become too much.

At Garak’s questioningly soft hold on his arm, Julian nodded and he helped him to the sofa. “Would you like some water?”

Julian nodded. As Garak went to fetch it, he began to talk again. Somehow… he just needed to get it out now, like an excision. “After the truth came out my mother told me that they’d been lying. I mean, they’ve been lying about so much, but specifically about this. I’ve always been like this. Or. Some of it. The meltdowns. I thought… those memories weren’t real. But now they are? Some of them. I’m having trouble sorting them.”

Garak handed him the water.

“I developed a theory,” said Julian, forgetting to sip.

“Tell me your theory doctor,” said Garak, his tone of voice tender as he sat down beside him, again, close enough if he needed him, but not too close.

“I was wondering why a heightened inability to process inputs was a side-effect of the vast majority of augments, when I had this inability before my augmentation. I started to suspect that it was less to do with the augmentations and was simply… who we were. The augmentations gone wrong could throw that into extremes, but that may have more to do with medical trauma responses than… anyway, I can’t confirm until I have more data. I did research into my own developmental delays, the medical history – it’s fascinating how we repeat cycles actually, first it was considered a form of possession or changelings, then it began to be classed under a broad form of what would be known as schizophrenia, then divided into narrow and still somewhat inaccurate categories of autism, aspergers, adhd, add, high and low functioning etcera, and then was gradually broadened again under general brain-differences known as neuroatypicals or neurodiverse,” he took a breath and continued: “- I’m not too interested in 21st century history honestly, but I know the government upheavals affected medical classifications and concepts of what was known broadly as “disabilities” at the time, and that it fundamentally shifted again once we formed the federation. But then -” and here he started gesticulating widely in excitement or outrage - “it all becomes the same just repackaged, doesn’t? Stigma against augments who are overwhelmingly people like me is stigma against neurodiversity is stigma against the “possessed,” it’s…” he trailed off. “It’s all the same,” he finished lamely.

He’d become very aware suddenly that he’d done that thing that annoyed most of the people he ever conversed with, running his mouth while forgetting the other person. But Garak didn’t seem annoyed. He was listening intently, in fact. At the pause he even nodded and offered: “The history of such matters is different on Cardassia. Or rather, mental and developmental differences don’t get acknowledged on Cardassia.”

“Eugenics?” said Julian with a frown.

“Not as such. We don’t mind in theory, as long as everyone can perform the tasks they’re assigned to. It’s a… class thing. If you belong to a powerful family and are expected to do great things in the army or politics or the sciences, being unable to do so for any reason is usually – what is the term humans use? - “Swept under the rug.” But then someone like you, dear doctor, if you had been Cardassian it might surprisingly have been easier for you.”

Julian shook his head. “My abilities are due to my augmentations. I’d have been… I don’t know. Not me,” he said softly.

At that, Garak gave him a look that he couldn’t pin down. Something… surprised for a moment, almost? Then smoothed out into an enigmatic smile. “Perhaps. From what you tell me you’ve always processed like you do, you’ve just been given better tools to translate and more…” he searched for the word for a second, before landing on: “space.”

At that Julian burst out into an unexpected laugh. “I certainly have enough space out here. More than enough, I’d say.”

Garak’s smile deepened. “But it doesn’t matter. Either you were always going to be able to pursue medicine and the stigmas of your parents and surrounding society were preventing you from discovering that on your own, or your augmentations made you unlock new abilities. But on Cardassia someone with the kind of passion you possess would have done well, with or without them.”

“If I were born into the right class. And if I didn’t get arrested for being fundamentally against the militaristic state.”

“Naturally,” acceded Garak. “And I must say I’m quite relieved to find the incorruptible, perfect federation comes with its own flaws. One wouldn’t have expected it with the way humans constantly go on about it.”

“Oh, we go on about the federation? According to you Cardassia is superior in culture -”

“- oh, definitely -”

“- politics -”

“- without a doubt, my dear -”

“- criminal justice system?”

“- well, we’ve never brought a wrong case before the court-”

“- I know you’re just saying that to rile me up-”

“- my dear doctor, when have I ever been anything but sincere?”

“- when have you ever said anything you meant?”

“- I am offended, truly-” said Garak with a big grin on his face.

Julian found it the easiest thing in the galaxy to return.

“Remember to drink your water,” he was reminded, gently, before they continued their lunch discussion. It was a moment in which they both forgot that they had ever begun to drift apart in the first place.

—— The End ——-

[ineffably-good]

Prompt #5: Miscommunication

It’s Day 5 of the Good Omens Anniversary Month Celebration! Today’s prompt is miscommunication... and I have to admit I had a lot of fun writing this one. I hope you enjoy!

____________________

Friday morning, Earth

 “I got the strangest memo today,” Aziraphale said one morning at breakfast.

Crowley wasn’t quite awake enough to focus on memos, to be honest, but he was trying. He downed his espresso in one gulp and set about getting the machine set up to make another.

“From who?” he finally said.

“Gabriel, supposedly, but I think perhaps he’s got a new intern, some low-ranking angel who’s not quite up to speed on using the computer systems yet.”

“Whatsitsay?” Crowley mumbled, poking buttons wildly on the espresso machine until something started to happen.

“It says,” Aziraphale said with a hint of laughter in his voice, “that for the love of God, Aziraphale, can you please exorcise all restraint in your interactions with the demon Crowley.”

Crowley grinned, suddenly much more awake. “Exorcise restraint? Not exercise?”

Aziraphale grinned back. “Yes indeed.”

“So – you received an official reprimand letter from the wanker you no longer work for, telling you to please, for the love of god, remove all of your inhibitions, burn the modesty out of you, and go hog wild with the demon Crowley?”

Aziraphale smoothed down his waistcoat. “I believe that’s the long and the short of it.”

“Oh,” Crowley said. “Well I believe we should write a rather detailed field report on how you fulfilled those orders to the letter.”

“I think that would be most enjoyable,” Aziraphale said with a predatory smile. “Where should we begin?”

“Where’s that kama sutra book you hide away from the customers?” Crowley said.

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow and went off to look for it.

 --

Sunday morning

Up in Heaven, in the bowels of the smallest office, the angel Naviel watched the two printers he was in charge of grind away, one spitting out short tabs of paper that listed, line by line, each miracle used on Earth. This was quite a dull job, generally.  

The other was essentially the inbox for Heaven. All incoming documents arrived there and were routed by Naviel through interoffice pneumatic tubes to their proper locations. Unless they were very, very sensitive, and then he delivered them carefully and in person.

The letter that arrived this morning appeared to fall in the latter category.

“Oh my,” he said, reading it over. His coworker over at one of the many incoming prayer desks looked up.

“You all right over there, Nav?” she asked in concern. “You look pale.”

Naviel swallowed down the urge to fling the paper across the room to her. “How long has it been since Gabriel discorporated a messenger angel?”

His coworker narrowed her eyes, trying to remember. “I think he’s only done it twice. Which really isn’t that much at all, considering how long we’ve been at this.”

“I think he’s going to make it three today,” Naviel said. “If … if I don’t come back, please take over my printers, would you?”

His coworker, momentarily distracted by an uptick in transmissions on her own devices, nodded distractedly.

Naviel gathered the customary silver tray, placed the letter on it, and hurried off to Gabriel’s office.

 --

Friday evening

On Earth, a certain angel and demon came up for air, flushed and breathless after working their way through a remarkable number of increasingly acrobatic combinations of an amorous nature.

“Care for some sushi, angel?” Crowley said.

“Why, I think I could be tempted,” Aziraphale said with a grin. “But only if we get an amount that is truly, truly indecent. Might as well add gluttony to the list.”

Crowley grinned wolfishly. “I’ll feed it to you piece by piece, angel,” he said. “We’ll combine gluttony, sloth, and lust all in one go.”

Aziraphale laughed. “Oh, I so hope you’re keeping a list. I do need to report all of this accurately.”

 --

Sunday morning

Naviel knocked on Gabriel’s door and entered nervously when Gabriel bellowed. Gabriel was seated behind his immense mahogany desk, adjusting his hair in a pocket mirror. He hardly even looked up when Naviel entered.

“Field report for you, sir,” Naviel said hesitantly. “From the Principality.”  

“I’m busy,” Gabriel said. “Read it to me.”

Naviel swallowed. “I- I’d rather not, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Gabriel lowered his mirror and stared at Naviel, taking him in for the first time. “Nar – Nad – what was your name again?”

“Naviel, sir.”

“Right!” He gave the clerk a broad and insincere smile. “Don’t be a drip. Do your job and read it to me, okay?”

Naviel knew enough about Gabriel to know he should definitely not push back any further if he didn’t want to be demoted to cleaning duty. “If you insist, sir,” he said, clearing his throat. He put the tray down on the corner of Gabriel’s desk, and picked up the papers in hands that he had to visibly try not to let tremble.

“My Dear Gabriel,” he began. He looked up nervously and Gabriel motioned impatiently for him to continue, as he returned to examining his hairline in the mirror.

“At last, a missive from you that I can firmly get behind, so to speak. I was delighted to receive your request for a complete cessation of all inhibitions and restraint in my dealings with the demon heretofore known as Crowley, now currently known to all and sundry as my spouse and the love of my life. As per your note, I took a few moments to excise the last remnants of modesty and restraint from my heart, and set about seeing what we could do to fulfill your instructions. The following is a rather thorough list of my activities over the last forty-eight hours. I know you do so prefer for me to be thorough in my reports.”

 --

Saturday afternoon

Aziraphale stretched luxuriously and took a moment to admire the sight of his husband lying thoroughly debauched in their bed, his pale skin a lovely contrast to the dark blue linen sheets that were gathered around his hips. He ran a hand down his back and then hopped out of bed for a moment to pad downstairs and retrieve his favorite fountain pen and a few pieces of creamy stationery emblazoned with his winged crest.

He rejoined Crowley in the bed and leaned down to give him a kiss on the temple. Crowley murmured at him but made no effort to stir.

“Stay put, love,” Aziraphale said. “I have a letter to write. And I thought it might be a lovely bit of irony to use your beautiful, naked back as my writing desk. Would you mind terribly?”

Crowley chuckled. “Is this letter to a certain wankwings archangel?”

“But of course,” Aziraphale replied.

“Be my guest,” Crowley said. “But you have to read it aloud to me as you write.”

Aziraphale laid the paper on Crowley’s back, and began composing. “My Dear Gabriel,” he said aloud, writing in his tidy and extremely old-fashioned copperplate. “At last, a missive from you that I can firmly get behind, so to speak.”

Crowley snorted and Aziraphale patted his backside appreciatively.

“Hush now,” he said, “don’t go tempting me. And you have to hold still for this to work – do you or do you not want to know that Gabriel is holding a letter that was written on your naked body?”

Crowley smiled. His husband was the best bastard in the entire universe. He did his best to hold still.

 --

Sunday morning

Naviel made it to the bottom of the first page, his face burning bright red and his tongue feeling dry as shoe leather and twice its usual side, as he read item after item on the world’s longest and most mortifying bullet list of debauchery.

Gabriel sat stony-faced at the desk, mirror forgotten, looking too shocked to even breathe. Not that he needed to. But he liked to keep up appearances.

Finally Naviel dared to take a slight break to cough and try to return some moisture to his tongue.

“That will be quite enough!” Gabriel shouted, returning to his senses and realizing that he was allowing another, lower angel to witness this moment of abject humiliation at the hand of his oldest and hardest-fought rival. “Leave it with me, I will read the rest.”

Naviel put the pages down in vast relief. “I do believe there are a few venn diagrams on the final pages that help to summarize some of the information,” he said. “If you’d care to send a response, I can return with the official letterhead –”

“That will NOT be necessary,” Gabriel said, waving a hand imperiously. “Leave me at once. Go!”

Naviel scurried for the door.

“And Nagriel?” Gabriel called after him.

“Navriel,” the lesser angel corrected him.

“Whatever,” Gabriel said. “Speak of this to anyone and I’ll ensure your memory is reset to the day you were made, do you understand me?”

“Absolutely sir, yes sir,” Navriel said, latching on to the doorknob like it was a life raft. He made it to the anteroom and closed the door behind him, then all but ran for his office.

That was a close one, he thought. He wondered if he could get transferred to the library. Nothing bad ever happened in a library.

[thegreenwolf]

DEEP ANCESTRAL ANIMAL SPIRITS, PART ONE

Note: This post was originally posted on No Unsacred Place in 2012, and then later Paths Through the Forests. I am moving it to my personal blog at http://www.thegreenwolf.com/blog so I can have more of my writings in one place.

The human brain is a fascinating thing. I had already learned a good deal about it just in personal reading, but when I went through my graduate program to get my counseling psych degree, I got a lot more up-to-date information. For example, I learned about the triune brain—the idea that we have the reptilian brain (the basal ganglia, the most primitive part of the brain), the paleomammalian brain (the limbic system) and the neomammalian brain (the neocortex). What I also learned is that this model is overly simplistic, that it doesn’t correspond as neatly to actual reptile and various mammal brains as is popularly assumed. Also, some non-mammalian species exhibit levels of intelligence and behavior that rival neocortical capacities, without an actual neocortex in the brain. And all mammals have some neocortical development, just not to the degree of humans. So, in short, the triune brain model has fallen out of favor due to its flaws.

Still, as very brief shorthand, the “reptile”, “old mammal” and “new mammal” models of the different sections of the human brain work if you keep its limitations in mind. It’s a good set of mnenomics to remember that the oldest portion of the brain (“reptile”) is that which is associated with primitive territorial and aggressive/defensive actions, the next part (“old mammal”) has diversified into more complex behaviors surrounding the care and feeding of young and other family as well as the first development of emotions, and the newest portion (“new mammal”) has even more complex social and communication skills, as well as planning and foresight.

My interest in it here is as a model for self-reflective meditation. Even as highly developed as we humans are, our brains often get the better of us, particularly the more primitive portions. We still can fall prey to uncontrolled and unexamined anger, territoriality (literal and symbolic), fear, and other such impulses. We fear the Shadow-self and often try to excise it. And the more primitive self sometimes manifests as unnecessary violence that too often gets justified in the name of religion and other ideologies. Wars are massive groups of “reptiles” in territorial conflict.

So much of spirituality and religion seems to be aimed at quelling or rising above what we perceive as the most animal parts of ourselves, whether that’s sex or violence or desire and need. Sometimes mortification of the body is used; other times, we receive punishment for exhibiting “base” behaviors”. Look at the concepts of sin and uncleanliness when applied to perfectly normal, harmless human behaviors like consensual sexuality. Or we try to escape the body and the physical needs through meditation and projection, and many of us are taught to idealize an afterlife where the gross weight of the body is left behind and we are made “perfect”. In any case, the animal self is all too often demonized and shunned.Yet the answer is not to further distance ourselves from these parts of who we are as human animals, but instead to reconnect with them. Our increasingly (perceived) detachment from ourselves as animals, the idea that we are “above” or “better than” animals, doesn’t take away the fact that we are animals still, including in our brains. No amount of rationalization or distancing will remove that, nor will any level of supposed transcendence. As long as we are human animals in human animal bodies, we are responsible for our human animal selves, motivations, and actions.

We don’t, of course, need to swing all the way in the other direction and let our ids go wild in order to “be animals”. Yes, we are attracted on a certain level to the idea of unfettered fighting and fucking and competing relentlessly for resources to maximize the likelihood our genes will be passed on. But let’s not break out the blood sacrifices and wild orgies just yet. If we are to give honor to the evolution that has brought us to where we are, let’s not forget the compassion and humane treatment of ourselves and others that we have developed to a high degree (though we are not the only species to possess them). After all, we have seen the atrocities that have occurred when people display little to no control over their more primitive instincts at all. That’s where we get war, assault, selfish hoarding of precious resources, etc.

I propose, instead, a middle ground, one that allows us to aspire to the best of the uniquely human traits we’ve developed as a species, and also the more primitive foundations that we are built on. The goal is to first be able to identify what parts of the brain/self are active at different points, particularly those seen as negative; and second, instead of pushing them away, observing and knowing the impulses and feelings for what they are and thereby letting them have a place while keeping them in check.

And we’re going to do this by looking to our ancestors and our much-extended family for their experience and wisdom. In the second part of this series, I’m going to show you a guided meditation that you can use to contact animal spirits that correspond with the various layers of your brain as a way to begin this reclaiming of yourself as a human animal.

Did you enjoy this post? Please consider supporting my work on Patreon, buying my art and books on Etsy, or tipping me at Ko-fi!

[pierrotdameron]

Dafne Keen does not much look like Lyra Belacqua, at least not as Philip Pullman describes her in His Dark Materials. In Northern Lights, the first book of the trilogy, she is “like a half-wild cat”, with dirty fingernails, green eyes and grubby blond-ish hair. Keen, who is half British, half Spanish and lives in Madrid, is darker and is already the master of an intense glare, as anyone who saw her alongside Hugh Jackman in the Wolverine swansong Logan will know. When we meet, in a London hotel, she has the self-possessed cool of a total pro, even at 14. But there are plenty of Lyra-esque flourishes that make it obvious why she got the part.

She was almost 12 when she finished filming Logan. She had heard about the BBC/HBO adaptation of His Dark Materials, then in its early stages, and sent in an audition tape. But she didn’t hear back. “I thought, never mind, I’ll just carry on with my life,” she says. “Which is when I got stung by the jellyfish.”

The production team had finally replied, asking her to make another tape. Keen was on holiday in Puerto Rico. “I thought, right, I’m going to have a chilled-out swim and then I’m going to get ready. I suddenly felt this thing on my face and then it started stinging and then it expanded all over my face. I ran to my mum and I went, ‘Mum! Is it really red?’ My mum went, ‘No it’s fine.’ And then she went, ‘Oh no, it’s not fine.’” Her face was red and swollen but she had to do the tape. “So my audition is with a jelly-face,” she smiles.

The next step was to meet Ruth Wilson, who plays Mrs Coulter, one of the best evil characters in children’s literature. “I was sitting in the waiting room with 20 other girls,” Keen remembers. “I was thinking, oh god, they’re all blond. I don’t physically look like this character, and these girls all do. I went in, shook hands with Ruth, and five minutes later, she looked at me and said, ‘You know, you have the same eyebrows as me.’” Fans of the books will know that this is a big thumbs up. Days later, she began rehearsals, with Wilson and puppets. In Pullman’s books, people have daemons, an animal manifestation of their “inner self”, which lives alongside them. Because the daemons on screen are CGI, the actors shot their scenes with puppets to make their interactions as authentic as possible.

When Philip Pullman writes, he isn’t trying to bring down the church, he’s bringing down the system

Naturally, Keen is practised at describing what her own daemon would be, were this world to have daemons in it. “Mine is quite easy to figure out, because it’s what everyone called me on set. Everyone calls me Monkey.” In the books, daemons change form until their human reaches adulthood, when they settle as one fixed animal. Keen particularly liked hers as a pine marten.

We meet the morning after the world premiere of His Dark Materials, which was the first time Keen had watched it. “Everybody had seen it apart from me! I’m really busy filming season two, so I had no time to watch it. I had Philip Pullman right next to me, and I was like, oh god! But I think he liked it.” Did he offer his approval? “His wife came up to me and was really lovely and was saying I was the perfect Lyra. I was really happy to hear that.”

Keen had not read the trilogy before she auditioned. “Now I’m a massive, massive fan. As soon as I read the books, I knew this was a good message to the world, and it’s important that we have stories about young girls, because there aren’t many,” she says. At the premiere, Jack Thorne, who wrote the screenplay, likened Lyra to Greta Thunberg. Though she does not know it, the future of the world rests on Lyra’s shoulders, and she has to fight tooth and nail to defeat the forces that wish to suppress free will and independent thought. Keen approves of the Thunberg comparison. “I am genuinely in awe of that girl.”

There have been various adaptations of His Dark Materials over the years: a Radio 4 series, a play at the National Theatre and the 2007 Hollywood attempt, The Golden Compass, with Nicole Kidman and Daniel Craig. It was supposed to be a trilogy, but only the first was made – and Pullman’s theme of an abusive authoritarian religious body was watered down almost beyond recognition. The television series seems more comfortable with its source material, and its Magisterium, the governing body of the Church, is portrayed as a fascist regime.

In 2007, the Catholic League called for a boycott of The Golden Compass, despite the religious references being excised, and the Vatican also denounced the film and Pullman’s writing. Keen had seen it – was she aware that this new version might be controversial, given the backlash the movie attracted? “I thought that was sad, but I understand why they had to do it,” she reasons, diplomatically, of the decision to soften the book’s themes. “But I think people are reading too much into it. When Philip writes about the Magisterium, he’s not bringing down the church, he’s bringing down the system.”

Keen was born and raised in Spain and is bilingual. Her mother María is Spanish, and as well as being her acting coach is also an actor, as is Keen’s father Will. He has a part in His Dark Materials, as Father MacPhail, part of the Magisterium faithful. “He is terrifying,” says Keen. “He always plays bad people. I don’t know why because he’s so nice. I genuinely think it’s because he’s bald and has green eyes.” She practically grew up in a theatre rehearsal room, because of her parents, but she thought she would be a biologist, like David Attenborough. “Then I found out you have to study biology, and to do that you have to study maths, and I went, mmm no, I’m not doing that. I hate maths so much, you can’t even imagine.”

A friend of her mother’s was making a short film, and needed a child for it, so Keen gave acting a go. She loved it. She did a series in Spain, The Refugees, alongside her father. (“He was playing my evil father, yes. Always got to give it the psychopathic twist.”) She picked up an agent, who put her forward for Logan, and she got down to an audition with Jackman. “In the waiting room, once again, there was this perfect LA beautiful blond girl. I was just, like, a small, scrappy Latin girl. I always think it’s not going to work out for me, and then it went really great.” She auditioned with Jackman, then asked if she could try again, only this time she said she’d like to improvise the scene. She was 11. “My heart was beating big time,” she says. “I thought, I’m just going to dive in and ask them, and they loved it, so I was lucky.”

Jackman remembers the audition well. “[Director] Jim Mangold looked at a lot of actresses for Laura. When he told me about Daf, I was hopeful, but when we tested together, I was blown away,” he says over email. “She was every inch Laura. When Jim asked her if there was anything more she wanted to show us, she said, ‘Can I improvise?’ That’s the actor that got the part and who you see on screen.”

“Hugh is the nicest human being,” she grins. “I used to call him the human jukebox because he was always singing. Lin does the same thing.” Lin is Lin-Manuel Miranda, who plays Lee Scoresby in His Dark Materials. He got Keen tickets to see his smash-hit musical, Hamilton. “Two VIP Lin-Manuel Miranda guest tickets. I felt like such a diva.” On set, she would find herself singing the songs from it, but was too shy to sing when he was there. When Miranda had finished shooting, they all went for a meal to see him off. The bartender recognised him, and put My Shot on the stereo. “Me and Lewin [Lloyd, who plays Roger] were like, we’re not throwing away our shot, we’re singing this song.” They all joined in. “I’ve got videos of me and Lin singing it.”

Right now, Keen is preparing to go back to Wales to film season two, which loosely adapts The Subtle Knife, the second book in the trilogy. The third season, which will take on the astonishingly ambitious The Amber Spyglass, may take a little longer to pull together. Still, she is happy to live as Lyra for a while yet. She has taken plenty of her away from the experience already. “She taught me to speak up. Be bold, be brave, be yourself. Don’t follow rules, because rules can be useful, but they can be very stupid and pointless,” she says – sounding very much like her Lyra herself.

[adrenalineguide]

2019’s Top Rides: Part 3/Buick Regal GS, Subaru Ascent and Golf R

By Michael Hozjan

Buick Regal GS AWD: Buick gets it right

At 12, I wanted to be a car designer. Fate however had different plans for me. With an eye for automotive design, I grew up loving Buicks; from the ’57 Special to the ’59 Invicta, with the ’64 Wildcat stealing my heart time and again. Cadillacs took a close second, Fords were ok but I found Chevs too feminine. Buicks, were masculine with broad shouldered front fenders and creased lines, personifying the designing cues of GM greats, Harley Earl and Bill Mitchell.

Then came the Riviera. One snowy December afternoon as I headed to my post office, there on St. Lawrence Boulevard, with six inches of snow on the ground sat a ’65 Riviera. My heart skipped several beats and I must have studied its lines for what seemed like an eternity.

Well into the ‘70s there were some noteworthy designs that came out of Buick’s design studios however, the last four decades have been anything but exciting. That has all changed with the launch of the Regal GS – the sexiest Buick to come out of Detroit in, well the last four decades.    

The Grand Sport designation is nothing new to the Buick line up, having been associated with ‘70s era muscle cars but this is the first time that it has been used in a European sports sedan context. The stylish GS goes up against some well established rivals like the Acura TLX, Lexus ES, BMW 3 series and the like, a tough field to say the least. The Regal GS is more than just good looks, it’s a bona fide sports sedan. In fact a rebadged, German built, Opel Insignia, so the GS starts with the right genes. European engineered handling makes it the best tarmac gripping Buick ever.

Red Brembo brake calipers immediately tell everyone that this is not your typical Buick.

While different drive options/trim levels are available elsewhere around the globe, we Canucks get only one trim/drive option- also the most desirable one - the all-wheel-drive version motivated by the 310 horsepower DOHC, 3.6L V6 with variable valve timing punching out 282 lb-ft of torque through a 9-speed automatic.  

Entry price is $44,045, my tester came with the Buick Experience Package ($3,495) that included the moonroof, a Bose premium 8-speaker sound system, wireless charging, an 8” touch screen, HD radio, LED leveling headlights, The Driver Confidence Package (yes you read that right) at $1,995 includes adaptive cruise, forward collision alert with automatic braking, lane keep assist, front pedestrian braking and heads up display. The Ebony Twilight Metallic paint was a premium option at $495.

The all-wheel-drive gets a torque vectoring rear axle, which only improves traction in slippery conditions and makes the Buick eat up the corners. Buick has also given us three driving modes to choose from, Touring, Sport and GS 

Inside you’ve got one color choice, black. The supportive Recaros have a massage feature as well as being heated/cooled. Both driver’s and passenger seats have 14 adjustments to suit your body, including adjustable bolsters. Following with the German sport sedan traits, it includes a flat-bottomed steering wheel.

Rear seat passengers get ample legroom, but headroom is tight for taller occupants. With 30.cu.ft of space under the hatch with the rear seats up, with over 60 cu.ft with the rear seats folded, it betters many compact crossovers!

Is it perfect?

Non-functional air intakes in the front valance are mickey-mouse and a step backwards. Why not leave them open and help cool the brakes? No spare tire but a useless tire fix kit –that’ll help when you have a blow out or bend a wheel on Quebec’s pot holes. On the comical side, the audio system had mixed up the Cirius station numbers it’s 60s on 6 and not 660s on six….and the same could be said for 50s on 5 not 550s on 5, as well as 70s, 80s and 90s.

You can go through the gears manually with the console mounted shifter but paddle shifters would have been a nice touch to compliment the smooth 9-speed automatic.

Will the GS steal buyers away from BMW? I hardly doubt it but it does give of us a formidable option to keep our performance dollars with domestic manufacturers, and the GS buyer has nothing to be apologetic for. 

 Price as tested: $52,050*

*Includes destination charges and a/c excise tax

 Subaru Ascent: If at first you don’t succeed…

If you thought that Subaru already had a large SUV you’re right. The magic word here being had. The B9 Tribeca, later shortened to just Tribeca debuted in 2005 to, lets just say a less than stellar sales, and by 2014 had moved into the automotive history books of what once was.

It takes guts to admit that you were wrong, and it takes even big cojones to come back with a similar sized vehicle. Truth be told the SUV market has also changed over the last decade with SUVs growing increasingly larger, just like the population. Subaru appears to have been ahead of its time back in 2005 when 3-row SUV’s didn’t proliferate our roads, and minivans still reigned supreme for getting the platoon to school. But times have changed and so the new Ascent is the company’s answer to the latest trend.

The Ascent is also Subaru’s largest vehicle to date, with 142 mm longer wheelbase and 134 mm longer in length than the Tribeca, so yes passenger comfort has been greatly increased. The midsize SUV is built on the company’s Global Platform, a chassis that is easily adaptable; serving as the basis for everything from their Impreza and Crosstrek to the Ascent.

Available in four trim levels – Convenience, Touring, Limited and Premier - with the entry level 8-passenger Convenience starting at a meager $36,695. Regardless of trim, there’s a new 2.4L direct-injected, turbocharged boxer four cylinder dolling out 260 horses and 277 lb-ft of torque through the High-torque Lineartronic CVT (continuously variable transmission).   

Talk to anyone who’s ever driven a Subie in less than ideal conditions and they’ll swear by the symmetrical full-time all-wheel-drive system. A new feature, X-Mode, pushes the traction envelope even further; at the push of a button, it monitors and controls four different vehicle dynamics, including engine, transmission, torque splitting and braking.

There’s a lot of standard driver-assistance technology in each Ascent without having to step up to trim levels, Items like automated emergency braking and lane-keeping assist through the company’s EyeSight system. The base model gets a 6.5 inch infotainment screen while upper trim buyers will see an 8 inch screen. GPS however is only available in the two higher end trims (Limited and Premier). Both Touring and Limited are available in either seven or eight passenger configurations with captain’s chairs taking up the second row. My tester, the Premier trim comes only with the second row captains chairs. While all trims get heated front buckets it’s only the two higher trims that pamper their second row passengers with heated outboard seats. The third row looks a lot more inviting than some of it’s competitors but it’s still on the tight side with limited leg room. Still bear in mind this is a mid-size seven passenger and the seats are padded and comfortable to keep the small fry happy for longer drives. Oh and a pair of third-row USB charging ports become available in the Limited trim and are in addition to the standard two you’ll find in the front and second rows.

Rear cover blind and tow loop are stowed neatly under the cargo bay’s floor, the latter an option on some pricier suvs

.

Whether you’re out in the boonies or negotiating city streets, the Ascent doesn’t feel like a large bulky SUV. With above average handling and a minimum of body roll for a three-row SUV, Subaru’s use of the boxer engine and its advantageous low center of gravity immediately become apparent. It’s stable, with a soft luxurious ride and is generally quiet during normal highway cruising. But it does get loud when pushed hard.

Is it perfect?

The drone of the CVT does get annoying but once you get passed that, the Ascent is typically Subaru; it does everything what it’s supposed to and does it well. I averaged 9.8L/100 km which is unprecedented in a 7-passenger sport ute. It may not be overly luxurious but you get what you pay for. I know my Subaru driving friends will all be looking at the Ascent when the time comes to turn in their current drives, and that alone will keep this big Subaru around for a long time to come.

Price as tested: $52,795*

* Includes destination charges

Volkswagen Golf R: You’ll want one

If you’ve missed my installment of the Rabbit GTI, I urge you to scroll down the page and have a read.

Now take the GTI and turn it up a notch, or three. The formula for the Golf R is very simple; take one German built spacious hatchback that already has solid, tight handling, and add gobbs of turbocharged horses to a 2.0L inline four cylinder. How many ponies? Two eighty-eight to be exact – enough to propel you well past the posted speed limit in less time than it takes you to say posted speed limit. Now stir in all-wheel drive to put all that power to the ground. Slam it to the ground for added handling. Dress it up with killer 19” wheels.

Choose between the 6-speed manual available for $42,495 or the 7-speed dual clutch automatic with Tiptronic for $43,895. Now go have the most fun you can with your clothes on.

Doesn’t look like it but there’s nearly 300 horses in there

Quad exhaust tips tell you this is no ordinary Golf

The Golf R is everything you want in a performance sedan and then some. It makes no sense in a country with posted speed limits, but then neither do Porches, Ferraris and the like.   

Price as tested: $49, 290*

*Includes destination charges and a/c excise tax

[sapphicscholar]

Pride Month Prompts Day 7: Underground (SuperLane)

From this Pride Month Prompts post! I’m taking the opportunity to write some short fics for a variety of pairings that I haven’t written for as much, maybe at all. They won’t be going on AO3, so I’ll be sure to tag them all with #pride month prompts so you can find them later if you want. 

Day 7: Underground

Pairing: SuperLane (Kara/Lucy) - another new one! (Set after Manhunter)

Perhaps taking off the helmets had been a bad idea. Scratch that: it was definitely a bad idea. But Kara had wanted to see Alex, had wanted Alex to know that she would always come for her, even if it meant stealing DEO property, shooting down a truck owned by the U.S. government, and freeing two supposed criminals being hauled away for treason. And seeing Alex’s reaction when she realized that Lucy had switched sides for them was pretty great too.

For a while, it seemed as if everything had gone fine. J’onn and Alex took off on the bikes, Kara flew Lucy back to the base, and they both acted surprised by the news of the escape (and were genuinely surprised by the news of Lucy’s promotion).

Neither of them took into account the fact that a vehicle headed for Cadmus would likely be equipped with multiple cameras sending live feed footage back to the military.

The following morning, a heavily armed squad showed up to arrest them both, and it was only Kara’s super hearing that gave her the extra few seconds she needed to swoop Lucy up in her arms and fly them both far away from the DEO and the military officials toting guns loaded with kryptonite-laced bullets.

Within a day, they’d gone completely underground. Kara was opposed to stealing, but she’d swept through stores faster than anyone could see, throwing money onto the counter in her wake. That was how they’d acquired a stockpile of food, new clothing, wigs for going out, and two burner phones that were being saved for an emergency. She’d also grabbed a few bottles of wine for Lucy, who had only recently reconciled herself to the idea of breaking the law and was looking a bit pale as the realization that she was a now a wanted fugitive with her own father hot on her heels sunk in.

On day 5, Kara finally got up the courage to apologize. “If I hadn’t...I should’ve made sure that we stayed covered, checked for any cameras.”

“It’s Cadmus, Kara. I’m sure they were livestreaming the footage.”

“Still. I could have kept them from knowing you were the person under the other helmet.”

But Lucy shook her head, rubbing at her temples before draining the rest of her plastic cup of wine. “Long term, this is the decision I’m proud of. I’ve pushed down a lot over the years, but I don’t think even a lifetime of practice at repressing shit would have been enough to keep away the guilt if I’d sent your sister and J’onn off to be tortured at Cadmus.”  She refilled her cup, frowning when the rest of the bottle only brought it up to two-thirds full. “So really, I’m the one that should be apologizing. You just pulled my head out of my ass long enough to see that I wasn’t living the kind of life I could be proud of.”

“Hey, no, I’m sure you’ve done some amazing things.”

Lucy snorted, something dark flashing across her features as her face twisted in disgust. “Like what? Break my ex’s heart because I’d rather hurt her...hurt us both, than risk a dishonorable discharge? Side with my father even as he got more and more bigoted just because every so often he’d pat me on the shoulder and tell me I made him proud? Come flying across the country to restart things with a guy only to break up with him all over again?”

“We’ve all done things we regretted. I’m pretty sure the whole world saw some of my worst choices splashed across newspapers and broadcast internationally just a few weeks ago.” She really wished wine did anything for her; it’d be nice to have something to dull the pain of the too fresh memories. “I also know a little bit about not wanting to believe that a parent could be so wrong about something, about waiting too late to realize there are two sides to every story.” She swallowed the tears that threatened to fall. “But Lucy? You’ve done a lot of things to be proud of.”

“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s hard to believe it these days.”

In a split second, Kara decided to start listing things, as many as she could think of, anything to make that look of sadness, of self-loathing disappear. “You’re a freakin’ major in the Army, which means, like, a lot of people have recognized what a badass you are. And you have grad degrees from Harvard. And you’re super great at Taboo and Charades and Pictionary. And you were willing to put everything on the line once you’d realized you’d made a mistake, which is almost better than just never making mistakes. Because you care, you cared enough to fix it.” She took a deep breath in. “Also you offer great legal advice. And those cookies you made for game night were so good; I ate half of them when you weren’t looking. And you won over Cat Grant in, like, two seconds flat, which, let me tell you, isn’t easy! And you always smell really nice, even at the end of the day, and you’ve got such great hair, like seriously great hair.”

Lucy looked over at her, some emotion swirling in her eyes that Kara didn’t recognize. “You know that the things you did while drugged don’t magically undo all the good you’ve done for the world, right?”

“Oh please, weren’t you the one saying Supergirl didn’t exactly measure up to expectations?”

Lucy ducked her head. “Might have had a bit more to do with jealousy than anything else.”

Kara’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Jealousy?” Lucy had the guy and the job and Cat’s attention. What could she have been jealous of?

“Seriously? You have superpowers, Kara. And a sister who would do anything for you, and this whole group of friends who adore you. Even when James was talking about finding apartments with me to really make things work, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. And, to make it all worse, I couldn’t even blame him because you’re fucking gorgeous!” With a huff of bitter laughter, Lucy pulled herself to her feet, swaying slightly—the first sign that the bottle of wine might have affected her. “I should… Night, Kara.”

---

After that night, things seemed easier between them. The guilt and apologies and bad memories had been excised, leaving room for something new to grow between them. Slowly but surely, they began opening up, sharing stories of growing up and years in school and awkward dates. Kara talked about the things she’d had the hardest time getting used to on Earth, and Lucy admitted that she hadn’t thought about how difficult it must be for aliens. She’d moved a lot as an Army brat, having to switch schools constantly, but even during the awkwardness of middle school, at least she’d always known how to speak the language, had a vague sense of what social life would be like, knew what would be taught in her classes and the kinds of clubs that would be offered.

One night, after a glass or two of wine, Lucy opened up to Kara about coming out, not that she’d had too many people in her life she’d been able to tell. Kara admitted that she hadn’t realized it was such a big deal on Earth until she’d asked Alex if she was courting her best friend Vicki and been swiftly and promptly kicked out of their shared bedroom for hours, not let back in until Eliza had demanded that Alex unlock the door for bedtime.

---

On day 18, they woke up to news that all of National City’s residents had been turned into automatons with the exception of Max Lord, who’d published statements about alien threats and how proud he was to be a human who had prepared for this, who had known from the beginning not to trust them, and Cat Grant, who’d posted a very public call for Supergirl to return from hiding and a plea that the government grant her amnesty.

“You’re going, aren’t you?” Lucy asked.

“I have to. National City...no matter what happened or how many people have decided I belong in prison, it’s still my city. They’re still the people I’ve sworn to protect.”

“Be safe.”

“I will.”

“I mean it. I”—Lucy swallowed heavily as she reached out a hand, grabbing one of Kara’s and holding it tight enough for her to feel it—“I want you to come back to me alive.”

And there it was again, that frisson of something that had been crackling between them for so many days now. Only this time Kara didn’t mumble a quick “goodnight” and speed off to her corner of the decrepit old cabin they’d moved into after the first week. Instead, she held Lucy’s gaze and raised a hand to Lucy’s face, sweeping her thumb across Lucy’s cheekbone. “I promise.”

Lucy was the one to lean forward, but Kara wasn’t sure who it was that actually started the kiss. All she knew was that there were soft, warm lips pressed against her own, and if she’d thought she wanted to date Lucy before because she smelled amazing, well, now she knew she wanted to date Lucy and for so many more reasons. But eventually, the reality of everything happening in National City, the hurried phone calls to J’onn and Alex, the continued broadcasts being sent out by Cat, all caught up to them.

“If you can find a way for me to come back within city limits, you’ll call?” Lucy gestured at their one safe burner phone left, and Kara nodded.

A few moments later, they heard the soft thud outside the door that signalled J’onn and Alex’s arrival.

“I should be fighting by your side,” Alex was already arguing as she and J’onn made their way inside.

“I won’t be able to stay focused if I’m shielding your mind.”

“I swear, if we can get into the DEO and get our hands on your prototypes, we’ll be back in an instant, okay?” Kara promised.

“Fine. In the meantime, I’m trying to see if I can’t bypass some DEO security protocols while everyone there is out of commission. I can only imagine that Non is going to want some of our prisoners back, so I’ll try to secure the system from external interference.”

While J’onn was busy talking to Alex, Lucy squeezed Kara’s hand again. “Come back, alright? We’ve got a kiss to finish.”

Kara grinned. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

[douxreviews]

Cloak and Dagger - ‘Vikingtown Sound’ Review

"You have the face of a system that has done nothing but hold me and mine down."

Cloak and Dagger starts laying out some answers as season two heads into the home stretch.

But Ty's mom, though...

We got a few big reveals in this one, and yet none of them feel nearly as compelling as every single moment of Connors and Adina Johnson's discussion over dinner prep. That just shouldn't be possible.

Let's start with some talk about those revelations, because there's a lot to talk about and I don't want them to seem like an afterthought after I go on a good long rave about Gloria Reuben. Spoiler alert: I'm going to go on a good long rave about Gloria Reuben.

After a few notable teases of the mystery veve, most notably in all of the picture frames in Ty's family home inside Tandy's dreamworld last episode, we get the reveal of whose veve it is. It turns out to be one of those reveals that makes you think, 'I should have thought of that,' and yet is still a surprise. The answer, as is obvious in hindsight, is that it's Andre's veve. The twist here being that Andre himself didn't know that until now. That's a clever way to obfuscate the issue. Andre's lack of recognition of the symbol made it seem clear that it must belong to someone else, but of course who else would have caused it to be plastered all over the inside of the visions that Andre was causing Tandy to have. He just didn't know he was doing it.

So Andre is on the cusp of becoming a loa, and had no idea. That's an interesting development, and casts a whole new light on what he's been trying to accomplish this season. It turns out that so far all he's been after is to use the despair of kidnapped girls to make his migraine pain go away and didn't really have a bigger picture goal. Now we find out that the bigger picture had a larger goal for him.

Great use of Auntie Chantelle this week, as relates to this plotline. It made perfect logistic sense that Andre would find Chantelle in Ty's memories and immediately go to her to get some answers about this mysterious veve that he's finding everywhere. It was also satisfying that Chantelle was perfectly honest and straightforward with him, not even being ruffled by the abrupt transition into his 'record store.' Chantelle hasn't always been well used by the show, and it was nice to see her get some good material here. Particularly if she's really dead as the show seemed to indicate. It's hard to be certain; from what we saw it appears that Andre slowed her heart to a stop, trapping her spirit in her happiest memory. At least I think that's what happened, it leaned kind of heavily into visual metaphor, so it's hard to say.

That's not a flaw, buy the way. I'll take 'atmospheric, moving, and vaguely defined' over 'detailed and boring' any day of the week. And it was touching, if unsurprising, that her happiest memory was the birth of her niece Evita. The record seemed to be leading up to Chantelle giving her sister some bad news that she only specifies with 'No, not Evita...' I think we were finally just told why Evita was raised by her aunt. Goodbye Auntie Chantelle. We'll probably never get to learn where you got that 3-D printer now.

In other reveals, Tandy has finally arrived at the Viking Motel, final destination for the kidnapped girls. After weeks of speculation as to what could be going on there, it turns out to be the saddest and least surprising explanation. The girls are there to clean during the day and then get pimped out at night. Although the show is incredibly discreet and tasteful about how explicitly it states that second part. I think in this specific circumstances, that was the right call. There's certainly an argument to be made that if you're going to depict sex slavery that you have an obligation to make it as confrontationally blunt as possible in order to get across how horrific the issue really is. In this case, however, I think the decision to leave the johns as almost entirely faceless and the details of what was happening only implied was the right one because it allowed the focus to remain on the girls as the real victims of the situation. As I said, opinions may legitimately vary on that point.

One thing that didn't entirely gel this week was the way they were using the metaphor of 'losing all your hope' as the real chains that kept the girls in the motel and in slavery. I get what they were going for with that, but it gets muddy when they're also using hope as a real and tangible 'thing' that powers Tandy's light knives. And so the 'imprisoned by the absence of hope' metaphor works in the case of Del; that's absolutely what keeps her from being able to walk out the open door when it's offered to her. But that's absolutely not the case for Tandy. She's not held back by despair, she's held back by a big security guard who physically carries her back inside. They're playing the 'absence of hope' thing metaphorically in one case and literally in another, largely because that allows them to cancel Tandy's powers for a bit, and the two never really dovetail with one another. It's a minor point, but it bugged me a little bit. Not so much that I didn't grin like an idiot when the act of inspiring hope in Del caused Tandy to regrow her own hope, all of which was conveyed to the viewer by the simple device of shining a light on Olivia Holt from below at a key moment.

Meanwhile, Ty gets briefly sidetracked by a run in with Andre and appears to be going the route of despair, but is saved by Mayhem, still trapped in the dark dimension, simply changing the record being played in Andre's store. More, she saves him by using the 'Tandy's perfect life' record that we saw being played last week, which was just a really wonderful tie back to prop detail as metaphor, which is something this show really excels at.

OK, let's talk Adina Johnson and her hostage, Connors.

Everything about this series of scenes was brilliant. Well written, well acted, just note-perfect drama. From the way the dynamic is established with Adina setting the starting point for their discussion through to its resolution, this was raw and real and you could really just excise these scenes from the rest of the series entirely and do them as a one act play, because any outside info you need to understand what's happening is given to you quite naturally in the dialogue. Actually, could someone please do that?

Adina sets up an interesting dilemma for herself. She needs to determine if Ty's need to have Connors alive so that he can clear his name outweighs her need for him to pay for Billy's death. That is one hell of an ethical riddle, and addressing it through the preparation of food was a great conceit. When the meal is ready and Adina goes to the cupboard, it's absolutely crystal clear what we're waiting to be told and how we're going to be told it. If she takes out two plates, Connors lives. If she takes out one, Connors dies. It could not read clearer that that's the situation and it's never even hinted at in the dialogue. I'm not sure how much of that is good writing and how much of it is good directing, but it's amazing. I was on the edge of my seat over dinnerware.

Bits and Pieces:

-- I'm worried about how Evita is going to react to the events of this episode. Now I think of it, Evita has always been kind of a wild card.

-- It's a little odd how the records being played in Andre's dimension affect reality. For example, it was a great visual and really told the story well, but how exactly did playing 'Tandy's Perfect Life' pull a dozen child ballerinas into existence? Or the ambulances that get summoned later?

-- When Ty and Andre clasped hands, Andre read Ty, not a hint of the other way around. Is Andre stronger than Ty? Has he just had more practice? Is it because Ty's powers are so linked with Tandy's and she wasn't there? I'm curious.

-- I adore how little care Mayhem took in putting the records back after she played them.

-- Was Ty's collapse at the end because Mayhem trashed the record store? His dark dimension seemed to be bleeding out of him, and it was intercut with Mayhem trashing the place, so it feels like those are connected. Time will tell.

-- For a metaphorical despair catalog, the record store had a surprising amount of object permanence. Changes Mayhem made to it were still there when Andre came back, so it isn't just a visualization of a metaphor.

-- I didn't expect them to take down the trafficking ring this quickly. They must need to clear that plot out of the way to get to Andre's ascension. Only three episodes left.

-- Connors knows where the real Billy's body has been all this time. That makes them claiming to need 'extra evidence' a couple episodes back even more ridiculous. The actual body, with DNA matching Adina and Otis would probably have been pretty persuasive.

-- They're really building up Connors' off screen Uncle as a threat. I wonder if he's been cast yet. Will he be the villain in season three? Because we're going to get a season three... right?

-- It's a minor point, but Lea knows Tandy's mom. Melissa Bowen has been going to that same group. How is she not remotely worried about her?

-- The opening image of the missing girls flyer falling down and being taken away in a garbage truck was not subtle imagery.

Quotes:

Adina: "I’m in kind of a bind here. Stuck between two forces." Connors: "Good and Evil?" Adina: "Billy and Tyrone."

Del: "My dad was a hammer. My mom was a nail."

Connors: "I get a call from a resident, says that she saw a young man in a hoodie skulking about." Adina: "A young man, or a young black man?" Connors: "She used a different word."

Andre: "What does my symbol mean?" Chantelle: "I’m not so sure I’m keen on telling you that right now."

Chantelle: "If you can’t be merciful when you play god, what kind of god will you be when you ain’t playin’ no more?"

Another great episode, marred only slightly by a couple of small thematic metaphor things that felt a little bit unreconciled to me. Not nearly enough so to spoil the story, however.

Three and a half out of four place settings.

The 'next time' preview seemed to indicate that I was inadvertently right about something last week. That's always a nice feeling.

Mikey Heinrich is, among other things, a freelance writer, volunteer firefighter, and roughly 78% water.

[sunlitroom]

Gotham s5e09 - The Trial of Jim Gordon

As I watched it, and some random observations here and there.

Previously on Gotham:

The river is full of chemicals.  Reunification likely isn’t happening now.  Jim rescued Victor.  Jim made impossible promises to a winsome orphan.  Ivy’s feeding the earth with corpses.  Jim insists he’s going to be part of his and Barbara’s child’s life.  Barbara wants in on Oswald and Ed’s submarine plot.  Lee needs to read a season 4 synopsis, because she’s appalled that Jim is having a baby with Barbara.

So…

This is a summary as opposed to a recap.  

This is one of the hard-fought for – thanks for locking me out of my account twice, Twitter! :) – extra episodes that fans won.  It was filmed last, so while it exists within the context of season 5, I don’t think anything that comes after this episode is dependent on it story-wise – if that makes sense?  

As such – it’s sort of an easter egg.

The recaps I do are pretty much old TWoP-style recaps, if anyone here remembers what TWoP was. They cover what happened in the episode, but there’s also an element of critique throughout.  This is not a ‘hate’ thing.  This is simply what meta used to be: critical analysis.

The thing is, I didn’t think this was a strong episode.  I feel that if I do a full recap of this episode, it’s going to look like I’m meanly picking holes in it every second sentence, and given that this was an ‘extra’ episode hard-fought for by fans (Twitter locked me out of my account during the campaign :D), with cast involvement in the writing side, it would make me feel churlish to spend 7000 words picking it to bits.

On top of that – recaps are a bit of a labour of love.  They usually take a few hours of my weekend and wreck my wrists.  The nature and standard of this episode is such that I’m going to regard it as a sort of fun optional easter egg, as opposed to canon.  It’s sweet that there are so many personal associations in it for the cast (there were lots of genuine smiles in the wedding scene) – but it doesn’t really hold up in comparison with a regular episode.  

As such, I’ll still do meta, because I love a bit of meta - but not as much as usual.  My wrists are so happy.

When I saw The Trial of Jim Gordon as a title, I was excited. Jim’s always had a tricky relationship with guilt and shame and the whole notion of the hero.  He’s also got a tendency to wallow when he’s hit rock-bottom, but never actually goes so far as to apologise and make amends.  He feels bad about himself for a while, turns over a new leaf, and then carries on until the next moral lapse.

This title sounded like we’d get a sustained look at that habit.  Great – fascinating.  And it would be a nod to viewers who have been there since the first episode, because Jim’s sins stretch back as far as season one.  For example, he took Loeb’s one good and pure quality – his love for his daughter – and used it to blackmail him: an incredibly morally murky moment for him.  

And there’s been so many more moments like that over the years.  He went to Carmine Falcone because his ego couldn’t take losing a pissing contest with Oswald.  His actions led to the deaths of cops during the Pyg fiasco.  He let Oswald take the fall for Theo Galavan’s murder.  He allowed Sofia Falcone to propel him to the Captain’s job and screwed over his best friend in the process.  He betrayed Alice Tetch’s trust.  And that’s only naming a few.  

However, it was quickly apparent that his trial would only focus on one thing: his treatment of Lee.  And don’t get me wrong – Jim has done Lee wrong at points. I would say the worst moment was when he didn’t contact her immediately after his escape, despite knowing that she had suffered a miscarriage.  His rationale for that was weak, and I could see how she would be badly hurt by it and feel betrayed.

But.  There’s a couple of big issues created by focusing on Lee alone.

First up - it diminishes her as a character.  It removes Lee’s intelligence and strength and agency and interests and makes her one thing: the victim.  Was Jim the perfect man?  Nope. Did Lee have the ability to call it a day?  Yes, repeatedly. She could have checked out when she didn’t feel he was open enough about their relationship at work, or when he was weirdly slow to commit, or when he went off and murdered Galavan against her express wishes, or when he killed Ogden Barker, or when he lied about killing Galavan…. the list goes on.

Which is not to condemn her for wanting to stay in the relationship, that’s her call and that’s fine. But what you can’t really then do – in telling a story – is to paint her as a passive victim.  Lee had choices.  Which leads to the next problem in focusing on her alone.

In the context of Jim’s sins – the fact that Lee at every point had other options means that she’s probably one of his less hard-done-to victims.  Alice Tetch was terrified and without any other help when he betrayed her. Harvey has repeatedly said that working with Jim is essentially what keeps him going day to day – but Jim took his captaincy and left him feeling judged and alone and obsolete in a hospital bed.  Oswald was powerless when he abandoned him in Arkham.  Barbara only asked to be recognised as a human being when she was released from hospital.  It’s these kinds of people he has to answer to: the people who were vulnerable and powerless and desperately in need of help when they came to him.

And when the story just chooses to ignore them – then what we’re left with is the underlying message that those kinds of people, the freaks, the outsiders, the ones on the edge, well - they just don’t count.  Not to Jim Gordon, and thus, tacitly, not in the moral system of this universe.  They’re somehow not valid – their suffering matters less, and Jim doesn’t have to answer for how he’s wronged them.

For the narrative here to send and endorse that message is so difficult to reconcile to the show’s narrative as a whole that – for me – it simply can’t be accepted without major problems.

On practical level, too – the trial premise doesn’t really make sense.  Lee’s willingness to still have Jim in her life doesn’t exonerate him from past wrongs. The trial is an interesting idea.  Examining whether Lee wants to rebuild a relationship with Jim is an interesting idea. The two don’t really mesh well, though.

Overall, as a concept – it just didn’t really come off successfully, which is unfortunate, because the kernel of the idea had promise.    

Most of that main plotline is also plagued with inconsistencies, which didn’t help. Last week – Jim told Barbara that he didn’t want to see her in jail and take their baby away from her.  This week? That doesn’t hold water.  She’s excised from her own child’s life all over the place.  Alfred tells Lee she’ll make an exquisite mother.  Jim’s hallucination has Lee offering him the baby.  You can easily acknowledge that Lee will be the baby’s stepmother without erasing Barbara – but the story doesn’t seem to know how to do that. Fumbling it like this makes characters look callous.  Another odd moment was Ivy’s sudden willingness to see Selina dead.  That doesn’t follow on at all from the last time we saw her. On top of that, it felt a bit wearying for the women to all be at odds in this episode - and in such a simplistic good vs bad way.

Thinking a bit more about inconsistencies, the story seems not to acknowledge that season 4 happened.  It’s pretty glaring that season 5 hasn’t touched on Ed/Lee at all.  Whether or not you personally liked it, it was a big relationship that seemingly revealed a lot about Lee, and what’s seemed apparent this season is that they simply don’t know how to write their way back from something as big as the climactic ‘I do see you’ moment.  

This episode continues to ignore the repercussions of that relationship, which is fair enough, since the rest of the season has too – but it also ignores just about all of the rest of season 4.  You can’t really have Lee calling Barbara a psychopath when we saw her shoot Sofia in the head and knife Ed in the gut.  If you do, then you’re going to make her look like a moral hypocrite.

Last up, you have Oswald and Barbara in Sirens.  It’s maybe a very concentrated example of a problem the show has had over the years in handling shifts of tone.  If the story were consistently light and camp, and never touched on deeper themes, and the characters were purely comedy villains – then the notion of Oswald and Barbara not being invited to the wedding is a sly nudge in the ribs joke. But because it does frequently examine darker territory, and because it has showed us that they’ve both saved Jim’s neck repeatedly, and because it did show us their trauma, and did made us engage with them emotionally – excluding them causes problems.  It creates an ’us vs them’ when the show has been at pains over the years to stress the idea of nuance and shades of grey.  Much like the Madonna/Whore thing it creates with Lee and Barbara – think hard.  Is this honestly what you want your story to say?

And…it’s not.  Not really.  Which is fundamentally the issue.  The story just doesn’t really feel like it was constructed with attention to the narrative first and foremost.  And there are reasons for that, and as a sentimental nod – I’m sure it’s very sweet, but as a story it’s ultimately much too self-indulgent and, as a result, not really up to par.  

General Observations

Things that I’m unclear on going forward

Will we have a vengeful Ivy running about - seeking revenge for the failure of her plan?  I’m assuming not?

Will Jim and Lee be described as married by other characters – or just ‘together’?

Are the gangs settled now?  This one seems a big deal in terms of the city’s stability

  To finish on a positive note:

Bruce and Selina were sweet.

Victor was a joy throughout. As well as quoting Dickens a few episodes ago, he gave us some Shakespeare this week.  Also, he’s a vegan now.  Victor: officially more well-rounded than several main characters. I think that the last time we’re going to see Victor (on Fox, anyway) – so catch you later, Mr Zsasz.

Lee should get to wear 40s-inspired stuff every week - she really suited that shape of wedding dress.  That’s been a real missed trick in her costuming.  

Lucius and Ed are a match made in heaven.  Not only did we get Lucius’ ‘we’re perfectly bonded – like carbon and oxygen’ line, but he also seems to get walloped round the head as often as Ed.

Normal service will be resumed in a fortnight :)

[pop-punklouis]

hey hope!! i’ve completely run out of things to watch recently and was wonderinf if you had any recs of movies and tv shows??

HI! 

It’s your lucky day because I have found myself in a hole of watching many new things lately that I’ve more or less found enjoyable so hopefully you will too? lol

1. Russian Doll:  Nadia, a young woman who is on a journey to be the guest of honor at a party in New York City. But she gets caught in a mysterious loop as she repeatedly attends the same event and dies at the end of the night each time – only to awaken the next day unharmed as if nothing had happened.

(I know I’m late to the party with that one, but it is quite literally one of the best comedy-dramas I’ve seen in a long while, not to mention Natasha Lyonne, the ultimate babe, stars in it. It is, blatantly, obvious that the script was written by women (thank god) and it has a cool, mind-trip twist at the end that’ll have you guessing what actually was happening the entire time. Super easy to binge!! 10/10)

2. Perfume:  When a woman is found murdered with scent glands excised from her body, a detective probes a group of friends who attended boarding school with her.

(A German mystery-crime-thriller that is way too convoluted and intertwined to know the real culprit of the grisly yet complex murders until the few minutes of the last episode. It has an incredibly intriguing script with intricate details and dialogue. Pleasantly surprised by how solid the entire storyline and characters were. TW though!! There are scenes of obscene sex, implied rape, domestic abuse, and sexual assault. So be careful if those things trigger you. Watching it in German with English subtitles is the way to go, though. Trust me.)

3. Handsome Devil:  Two opposites, a loner and the top athlete become friends at a rugby-obsessed boarding school, and the authorities test their friendship.

(An irish coming-of-age LGBT film that, again, pleasantly surprised me with how well it was executed underneath the guise of an overly cliche storyline. It’s winning, compelling, and quite moving with how it tackles individuality in teens. It’s just a great film that takes tropes and turns them on their head by transforming the characters in their own way. Not to give too much away but the talk one of the boys have with the English professor on the rugby field at night is so, so important as an open dialogue.) 

4. Dumplin’:  The plus-size, teenage daughter of a former beauty queen signs up for her mum’s pageant as a protest that escalates when other contestants follow in her footsteps, revolutionising the pageant and their small Texas town.

(As you can probably guess this film is an emotionally-impactful conversation about self-acceptance that rides on the back of societal expectations of young women all tied together in a very heart-warming coming-of-age drama. Also there’s loads of Dolly Parton music. What else is there to say)

5. The Lobster:  In a dystopian society, single people must find a mate within 45 days or be transformed into an animal of their choice.

(Isn’t a new watch, but I was reminded of it recently. Just an extended Black Mirror episode, pretty much. It’s odd. It’s bizarre. It’s engaging. It’s a lot of things, and they are great.)

6. Shirkers:  In 1992 teenager Sandi Tan shoots Singapore’s first road movie with her enigmatic American mentor, Georges, who then absconded with all of the footage. The 16 mm film is recovered 20 years later, sending Tan, who is now a novelist living in Los Angeles, on a personal odyssey in search of Georges’ footprints.

(One of my favorite documentaries I’ve seen in a while, mainly because it doesn’t exactly feel like a documentary. It feels like you’re privvy to the incredibly frustrating, disheartening, and determined story of friendship, women-bound creativity, youth, and dishonesty when it comes to the mystery of where and why Georges disappeared. It’s also empowering in a way to see the transition of these young women reclaiming their lives after such betrayal.)

7. Grace & Frankie:  For as long as they can recall, Grace and Frankie have been rivals. Their one-upmanship comes crashing to a halt, however, when they learn that their husbands have fallen in love with each other and want to get married. As everything around the ladies is coming apart, the only thing they can really rely on is each other.

(I’ve been living under a rock, sue me. This show is fanfuckingtastic. Just watch it. Just binge it. Just do it.)

8. Voyeur:  Gay Talese investigates Gerald Foos, a Colorado motel owner who spies on his guests. Using a carefully constructed platform in the motel’s attic, Foos documents his guests most private moments, from the mundane to the shocking.

(Just a frustratingly and horrifyingly sad and strange recollection of two men who act as an incredibly interesting character study if nothing else. Recommend)

9. Some Freaks:  A charming romance develops between a boy with one eye and an overweight girl, though when she loses her weight after going to college, their relationship is tested in devastating ways they never dreamed would happen.

(….. I still don’t know how I feel about this movie. I’ve watched it twice, once alone and once with a friend, and I’m still conflicted on my lasting thoughts about the film and its message. It’s definitely something I suggest watching, at least, to come to your own conclusions about how it made you feel. It’s just. uncomfortable in the strangest of ways, and I just need more people to converse about it with lmao)

10. The Kindergarten Teacher:  A teacher sees such great promise in her 5-year-old student that she goes to unreasonable lengths to protect his talent.

(I watched this film on a whim one day while off from work, and I was pleasantly surprised by its depth and heartbreaking tendencies. This film does not evoke anything but unsettled feelings and yearning for both the young boy and the teacher. Many people tend to gloss over the fact that this film does so much more than its superficial narrative. it opens such a bigger conversation into what absence and neglect of personal creativity and art through someone’s marriage and family can cause them to in-turn have an unhealthy obsession with wanting to keep a child’s love/talent for art alive. Haunting but great film.)

11. Mr. Roosevelt:  A struggling LA-based comedian goes home to Austin, Texas, when a family member becomes ill and finds herself in the awkward position of staying with her ex and his amazing new girlfriend.

(Friend found this hidden-gem on Netflix, and it’s such a quirky, comforting, easy-watch that I miss a lot in indie films. It’s progressive and weird in all the right ways, and it leaves you with a cozy feeling inside once the film reaches its end.)

12. Queer Eye Season 3

(You know the drill just more feel-good reality-television makeover that makes all of us a little bit happier about humanity’s ability to be kind)

13. Happy Anniversary:  On their three-year anniversary, Molly and Sam are at a crossroads and need to decide whether to move forward or call it quits.

(Another hidden gem found on Netflix that I ended up thoroughly enjoying. It comes across as a real, genuine, non-exaggerated look at the inside of a couple’s relationship. It’s candid, fun, witty in dialogue, and heartwarming towards the end. I’ll admit I got a bit misty eyed at 1 AM lol also the dude who plays jean-ralphio is one of the mains so c’mon.)

14. Class Rank:  When her class rank threatens her college plans, an ambitious teen convinces a nerdy peer to run for the school board to abolish the ranking system.

(Listen up, I watched this film because I was under the impression that it was going to be a b-rated teen film I could be amused by, but it ended up being a sorta cute story that I enjoyed a lot more than I probably should’ve RIP. Give it a shot).

15. Cam:  A camgirl has her principles, until a mysterious woman who looks just like her takes over her channel.

(Don’t take the general critic review to heart and watch the film, yourself. It’s. a ride. It definitely gave me chills as much as it made me uncomfortable. A thriller with twists and uneasiness at every corner. Just a real creepy look into AI, especially in industries like the camgirl industry. I do want the girl’s play dungeon tho rip)

[eurosong]

Undo my ESC ‘19 (semi-final two)

Good morning, folks, and welcome to part two of Undo my ESC, the feature where I look at the year’s songs and make a change – as small as altering a minor detail like a lyric or a small staging decision, or as big as going for a completely different national final song! Again, it’s just my opinion and is often delivered in jest. Generally speaking, there are fewer things that need drastic changing in this semi-final, but there are always exceptions...

Armenia: When I first heard this song, I was a bit non-plussed. Cut to a few days later, and there was a constant stream of “walking out, aooooo” in my head. I fear that it’s a song that takes a while to win people over – and that it doesn’t help matters that it’s difficult to completely understand what Srbuk is singing. I’d be tempted to shift the verses into Armenian.

Ireland: I was underwhelmed initially by this effort, but it ended up charming me with its low-key nostalgia. It seems like Björkman has done his level best to kill of Ireland’s chances, and RTÉ have done the rest with the garish, Liechtenstein comics meet 50s Americana staging. I’d change this to something a bit more low-key and elegant.

Moldova: As if to detox from 2 years of crazy staging and outlandish songs, Moldova have sent something incredibly dull and beige, which now they’re trying to cover up by using a decade-old Ukrainian gimmick. There were better songs in their national final, particularly “Sub pămint,” a rocky-folky effort with a lot more to hold my interest than “Stay.”

Switzerland: The Swiss were another country to abandon their national final – no real surprise after the years of mediocre entries it produced. I’d take Stones, Apollo and even Last of our kind over the cringeworthy, self-satisfied Justin Timberlake meets Despacito meets Fuego infernal blend that was “She got me.” I’m going to have a laugh with this one and have it so that Switzerland accept “Sister”, which would have been a passable Swiss entry, instead of rejecting it and having it end up in Germany where it screwed a perfectly good national final.

Latvia: Latvia, like its northern neighbour, Estonia, have gone from having one of the most promising and avant-garde national finals to one that has lost its shine, albeit not só much as Eesti Laul did. Credit where credit is due, they picked by far the best of a lacklustre bunch for me – a lovely, understated, saudadic effort. I wouldn’t change much about it at all.

Romania: Whilst it seemed that almost everybody and their mongoose wanted either the creepy poperatics of Laura “No to marriage equality” Bretan or fueclone #382 from Bella Santiago, by far the song that intrigued me the most was “On a Sunday.” I’m glad this delectable and dark tune won and couldn’t be happier for Ester, who was such a lovely person when we met. What I would change, if I could, would be the bizarre voting system that led to her victory – I’d have had her win by a clear margin in the public vote so as not to be the unfair recipient of hate for the way her song was elected winner. I’d also ensure the oddities on stage with her, pretending to play instruments, were relegated far out of view!

Denmark: Speaking of unpopular opinions, I also didn’t think much of “League of light”, a song so dull that the fact that it incorporated Greenlandic still didn’t quit its beigeness. I found the nicest song of the night to have been “Love is forever”, though I would replace the song’s English lyrics with Danish ones, teach Leonora how not to stare into the viewer’s soul and cause an existential crisis, and trim some of the tweeest excesses away such as the sashaying on the top of that massive chair.

Sweden: Another year, another edition of Melodifestivalen where the all-powerful juries have a real fear of anyone without the Y chromosone representing Sweden. “Too late for love”, at least, breaks the chain of self-satisfied boys singing empty pop songs. Instead, we have a barely soulful soul song sung by a more mature man. I would have gone for “Torn” or “Not with me” any day, though.

Austria: Austria’s labyrinthine internal selection came up with a little-known electro artist and I didn’t have the highest expectations, but I was intrigued. It ended up being an unexpected highlight, a true pearl of emotion and exquisite vocals. I don’t know what PÆNDA’s staging will be, but at the minute, I wouldn’t change anything except for her pronunciation of you as “Hugh/hue”!

Croatia: Oh, Croatia. Returning to a national final after Serbia and Montenegro did last year, and having enjoyed Beovizija and Montevizija respectively, I had hopes. Maybe not high hopes, but medium hopes. It was a collection of dated songs, bizarre songs, and then the eventual winner was both bizarre and dated: a screaming angel shrieking out a maudlin ballad that would have been dated even in the early 90s. I don’t have much of a horse in this race – I think my personal favourite was “Tebi pripadam”, which was harmless but pleasant, but I might go for the colourful “Brutalero” as the most likely to make an impact in Tel Aviv.

Malta: Malta bringing something interesting to ESC is one of the Four Horsemen of the Europocalypse, but before the other three come, I’m living for it. I worry how well a young balladeer with static performances will adapt to the sass and sizzle of Chameleon, but for the moment, I wouldn’t change anything other than remove the letters that overshadow the wild and colourful MV.

Lithuania: Lithuania’s NF is another for which life is too short to follow, especially since it takes the best part of 3 months to come up with – well, songs like this. One wonders how something can be both weird and dull, but this is, in turns. As pretty much the majority of folk rewriting this, I guess I would opt for “Light on” instead, though I’d be tempted by the quirky fun of “Mažulė.”

Russia: I can’t begrudge Sergej’s return to try to win after he found himself losing at the juries’ hand in 2016. I won’t even join those criticising him for not bringing another “banger” and instead returning with something a bit more solemn and musically complex. It’s not in my favourites but there’s not much I’d change, other than make the tune a little less repetitive.

Albania: Albania had another good Festival i Këngës – one of my favourite NFs in keeping an orchestra and maintaining national language throughout. My pick of all the songs to win was Ktheju tokës, and I wouldn’t change a thing about this powerful cri de cœur, except, perhaps, change it so that the second verse had different lyrics and was not just a repeat of the initial verse.

Norway: One of the absolute scandals of the season for me. In the red corner, we had one of the best composers to have represented Norway in the past 20 years with a sweeping, moving, classical tune, “En livredd mann”. In the blooo corner, we had a “what if Aqua moved to the woods, discovered they had animal spirits, thought they could joik and created this forgotten b-side in 1998?” Somehow, the latter won, but I feel the former really ought to have.

Netherlands: Though I cannot understand the fuss about this compared to other downtempo songs that I see being forgotten at best, slated at worst, it’s a decent track. I’d change the video so that it didn’t hinge so dramatically on gratuitous nudity, so that we could see who’s praising this for the music and who’s just in for a good looking lad’s bare arse.

Macedonia: It’s a nice, sincere effort from Macedonia – it feels a bit of a step back from me from the experimentation in the past two entries, but at the same time, I think it has a better chance of doing well than them. Not sure what I would change, other than the video. It’s very melodramatic and reminds me of an even more extra version of Bebe’s “Ella”; no small achievement given how extra that is.

Azerbaijan: I’m no great fan of AZ at this contest, but for the second time in 3 years (let’s try to forget the disaster that was “Delete my heart”), they’ve brought a decent song with some local character. My change would be to forget about the overproduced official music track and go instead for the delightfully understated unplugged performance, where Çingiz’ voice and the poignancy of the text come to the fore.

And the automatic qualifiers of this semi:

Germany: Because of my mischievious change for Switzerland, Germany would be free of the non-sisters perversely called Sisters and would have dodged the hole that they keep falling into – including unexperienced wild card artists in the national final that folk vote for out of sympathy, landing them in or near the bottom for several years, except last year, the one time they didn’t. There were plenty of good songs in the German national final, making the choice of S!!$Ŧ4ZZZ! even more perverse. I really enjoyed “The day I loved you most”, but, despite a somewhat dodgy live, I’d have to give the nod instead to the atmospheric, brooding “Surprise.”

Italy: This song and its artist are utter perfection to me. I wouldn’t change a single second. Unfortunately, Eurovision’s rather arbitrary 3 minute rule means that I would have to excise several seconds from the original. Mahmood’s actual solution seems to have been getting rid of the repetition of “[sai già] come va, come va, come va”, which for me sounds odd and wrecks the flow. I’d instead probably remove the “non ho tempo per chiarire, perché solo ora so cosa sei” line. It’d still be a change I wouldn’t ideally make, but I feel it’d be a bit less abrupt.

UK: The UK came onto the scene this year with a massive fanfare about a new format where YOU DECIDE in song duels which version of a song was better. Except, as it transpired, You the Punter didn’t decide – a dubiously qualified trio of “““experts””” did instead. The whole element of intrigue of the new format – finding out which version of a song is best – was taken away from the viewer and in doing so, all they got to decide between was 3 songs, 1 version of each. In the process, they eliminated the best version of “Bigger than us” – opting for the bombastic, X factor winner version by Michael Rice instead of the low-key but likeable country version by Holly Tandy. I’d have picked that instead. I’d have also not gone for that stupid format and instead tried to find at least 6 decent songs instead of 2 versions of 3 mediocre ones.

BONUS ROUND!

Ukraine: When I was doing SF1, I forgot that another country should have entered that semi who were under my imaginary purview. I’m talking Ukraine, of course, whose broadcasters instigated the scandal of the year by humiliating its artists with political questions on live TV, and then basically forced the winner to nót represent Ukraine by giving her a scandalous contact that didn’t offer any help with the financial burden of going to Israel and putting on a show, would shackle her to patently unreasonable terms, forbade her from speaking out of turn or improvising on stage, and threatened her with massive fines for the slightest unauthorised change.  Part of me really wants to say that I’d deal with the mess by ensuring that Tayanna (who should have won in 2018 with Lelja) wouldn’t withdraw, thus leading to the inclusion of Maruv at the last minute who ended up winning. But no – a bigger wrong must be righted and, even though her bizarre burlesque is not to my taste, I would have undone poor Maruv’s poor treatment and let her go to ESC with “Siren song” like the majority of voters wanted.

[breakingdownsu]

Spiderweb Chapter One

In the aftermath of several strange incidents on Homeworld, an investigative Amethyst with a knack for seeing the little details finds herself looking into the grisly murders of several pearl-owning gems. Could it be the return of an old foe of gemkind? Or something a little more unexpected?

Spiderweb

Note: Between the busy holiday period and a wee bit of writer's block concerning the epilogue of Chorus, I figured it might be better to just begin this new fic. The epilogue will happen eventually, I promise.

…..

Slim was a private gem by nature, few acquaintances from both before and after the zoatox crisis and the rebellion really bothered to keep in touch and she worked largely from her apartment, rarely having to leave it. The last time she'd had reason to leave was when that abandoned down-district factory exploded and everyone in a three-district radius had to evacuate while it was investigated. The resulting scandal when the authorities discovered the remains of an experimented-on pearl and traces of zoatox matter was a good reason to stay indoors for as long as possible.

So, whenever anyone did seek her out for any reason, it was a good sign that they were desperate.

She let the initial holo-call ring out, waiting for the message. The gem calling her tried three times before giving up, and the message they sent was pretty annoyed.

We have an incident in district fourteen, upper west near the Silverdene. Get your brittle mass over here or I'm sending a crew to pry you out.

Slim delayed for as long as she could, tossing back a compound mix and selecting her tools slowly, meticulously. If she were to guess, this was some sort of heist (the Silverdene was popular with upper-class gems) that had an unusual component; she'd need magnifying scanners, a metronomical, perhaps her pitch sensor.

She didn't lock the door before she left, thinking she'd be back within a quadrant.

She was wrong, for once.

…..

“Took you long enough,” the Amethyst squad leader grumbled as Slim arrived on the scene.

“Apologies,” Slim replied insincerely, rummaging through her toolkit. “You didn't mention what kind of job this was, I wasn't sure what to bring...”

“I would have explained if you answered your holo-cast. Never mind, you're here now. What do you make of this?”

The squad leader had walked her right up to the crime scene; cordoned off by macro-screens, surrounded by the little evidence fabricates where other Amethysts were interviewing witnesses, the unfortunate victim's ruptured mass was covered by a tarp. A halo of rich purple nitrate blood fanned out across the ground.

“They didn't go for the gem,” Slim mused.

Most standard thieves and grudge-holders attacked the gem of their victim, to finish them off quickly and give them less of a chance to retaliate. If you pierced the mass just enough to get them to retreat to their gems you could rob them with ease. However, this attacker had gone for a shattering by ruptured mass, an especially difficult and rather sadistic way to kill a gem. Slim had never seen such a thing before, but it was unmistakable.

“Every gem we've talked to says they didn't see anything,” the squad leader said. “At least one of them is lying, it's just a matter of finding out who.”

“Maybe not,” Slim mused, lifting the tarp and gently wincing at the state of the gem's remaining mass. “What do you think happened?”

“Hired hit,” the squad leader shrugged. “By an Aquamarine, maybe... or a Spinel. Something that got in quick and vanished.”

“Definitely not,” Slim told her, taking out her metronomical and measuring the blood spatter. “At this angle, the attack was from above.”

She pointed upwards for emphasis, at the mesh covering the quadrant's air-purifying system. The squad leader barked out a sarcastic laugh.

“From up there? Mid-cycle? Come on...”

“It would have to be a small gem. Or light, anyway...” Slim continued, ignoring her. “The mesh would warp otherwise...”

She raised her magnifying scanner and, sure enough, there were very small, almost imperceptible, indentations in the mesh. It was whole though, it hadn't been torn or bent to allow a weapon through. Curious...

“This quadrant's crawling with gems all cycle, especially at mid-cycle,” the squad leader scoffed. “Don't you think any of them would have noticed a gem up there?”

“I wouldn't know, I haven't asked any of them yet,” Slim shrugged.

…..

Even though the fabricates were supposed to be soundproof for the sake of confidentiality, Slim could hear the Carnelian sobbing from the crime scene. Once inside, they had to wait for her to calm down before they could get a straight answer out of her. Slim observed the little drops of blood on the hem of her sparkling gown; she was roughly four pelmetres from the victim when the attack happened, Slim estimated.

“I told you already, I didn't see anything,” Carnelian sniffled at last. “I only turned around when I heard the screaming, oh sweet Core...”

“You were in front of the victim, then?” Slim asked.

“Well, yes...” Carnelian stammered, taken aback by Slim's monotone. “I always leave straight after a set, and she paid her bill before she left the...”

“Did she have any enemies you know of?” Slim interrupted.

“No, of course not! Everyone knows her, she's always throwing parties...though not anymore, oh Core...”

“Did you hear anything unusual, by any chance?”

“Aside from the screaming?”

“Before that...”

Plainly irritated that Slim wasn't fawning over her the way the other Amethysts had, Carnelian dropped the melodramatics.

“No, I didn't hear anything,” she hissed.

That in itself was odd. Summoned weapons made noise, so did handheld ones.

…..

“I wasn't doing anything,” the Spinel grumbled. “Just my job.”

“So you say,” Slim nodded. “A shortcut, was it?”

“It's quicker to go round the upper-west than north, every delivery-gem knows that!”

“Even at mid-cycle?”

“Especially at mid-cycle! Every gem's moving in the same direction...”

“Look, you're not on the hook for this...”

The squad leader frowned at this, but she said nothing.

“...if you tell us the truth maybe we can talk about clemency for anything else you've done.”

The Spinel squirmed in her seat. Slim could tell she wanted to talk, but she wasn't sure if Slim could be trusted. That was fair.

“It's far more important to the Diamond authority to get a potential danger out of the quadrants, especially in light of what's happened recently...” she said.

Zoatoxes. Someone was messing with zoatox matter. She left that unsaid.

“Some petty thievery doesn't matter, if you can help us out,” she continued.

“Okay,” the Spinel mumbled reluctantly. “I was there to scope out pearls. I wasn't even going to take any, I was just reporting back...”

“I see.”

Slim didn't even ask who Spinel was scoping out the pearls for, which went a good way towards gaining her trust. She didn't say anything, just waited for Spinel to speak.

“The Silverdene's a good place to scope out pearl owners, and they're usually careless enough to get away quick. There's new models on the market...”

“And did you see the victim leaving the Silverdene?”

“I wasn't watching her,” Spinel admitted. “I had my eyes on her pearl.”

Slim sighed, and turned to the squad leader.

“You didn't tell me she had a pearl with her.”

…..

Pearls made jobs like this so much easier, in Slim's estimation. Their recall was excellent and they were incapable of lying, and this one had the bonus of belonging to the murdered gem. Slim would be back in her apartment before aftcycle, she was sure.

It was faintly smiling when she was brought into the fabricate it was stored in, and Slim wasn't surprised that the Amethyst squad hadn't thought to interview it. As far as they were concerned, it was about as useful as the broken holo-corder that had failed to get any footage of the attack.

Still, Slim winced, they might have washed a little of the blood off of it. Poor thing looked like it'd been dipped in the stuff.

“I'll arrange for a iodine wash and a full repair before we find you a new owner,” Slim assured it. “We'll make this quick...what did you see?”

“I didn't see anything.”

Slim's fingers paused over her notes. Pearls almost always walked just a few steps behind their owners. Surely it saw something...?

“Nothing at all?” Slim asked. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“My owner instructed that I keep my eyes on the ground.”

Slim groaned, rubbing her head. Just her luck to get a pearl that had been ordered not to see anything.

“I am sorry I cannot be more helpful,” the pearl said, neatly folding its hands in its lap.

That little action lead Slim to notice something unusual...

“Your fingers,” she said, taking out her scanner to inspect closer. “Did you tell the Amethysts you were injured?”

“I was not injured in the attack,” the pearl told her. “My owner removed my fingers.”

Now that the scanner had her looking more closely, she noticed other ways the pearl had been 'modified'. Its gem was too pristine to account for gaps in its mass; the excised pieces of its bodies were cut too cleanly. As well as missing three fingers on one hand and four on the other, a slice of its ear had been taken out and there was a long furrow running down the left side of its face that Slim had initially thought was dried blood.

So the assailant had directly targeted the victim, but left the pearl untouched even though it was just a few steps away? Even though the pearl could have reliably informed on them? It didn't make sense.

Slim wouldn't get much out of this pearl. Unless she used its inability to lie to find out more.

“I think whatever attacked your owner came from above. Would you agree?” she asked.

“Yes,” the pearl answered.

“But the mesh above the air-purifying system wasn't damaged. Why do you think that is?”

“I think the weapon used was long and thin enough not to break the mesh.”

“It would have to be very long and thin, though, wouldn't it? The gap between the mesh and your owner would have been eight pelmetres at least.”

“My owner was lifted off of the ground by the weapon.”

“I thought you said you didn't see anything?”

“I didn't,” the pearl responded. “Her mass was dropped on me afterwards.”

“So whatever it was had the strength to lift her off of the ground using something thinner than a strafing pole, at least.”

“Yes.”

“And what do you think would be capable of doing something like that?”

“A zoatox.”

There was something a little off about the pearl, to Slim's finely-tuned instincts. Her responses seemed almost rehearsed, but pearls rarely interacted with any gem besides their owner. Could the victim have planned her own murder?

All of Homeworld had talking in whispers about zoatoxes after details of the illegal experimentation on pearls using zoatox matter were leaked into the bulletins, but it seemed too easy somehow to blame a zoatox for this murder. During the war they had killed countless gems, but they had infested and laid their eggs in many more. Their strength had always lain in how quickly they could breed. Just one working alone wouldn't settle for killing a single gem.

Had this one somehow learned to lie? Was that even possible?

Or was it infected?

Slim simply didn't know enough about pearls to tell. She'd need the opinion of someone else.

…..

Slim was one of the last hatches from a planet that had proven too weak to support proper gem growth. Almost every hatchling from that planet shattered within a few cycles, and the ones that survived weren't fit for purpose. The Jaspers were too small and spindly, the Larimars were dull and homely, the Rubies weak and fearful, the Sapphires blind and the Peridots stupid. The one useful thing the planet could be used for was its large supply of fresh water for pearl production.

Slim was added to the ranks of the new Amethyst squadrons, but she failed most of her training. The rest of her squad often left her behind when they went on patrol, to file evidence or fix the equipment. Over long boring cycles that turned into long boring orbits, when there was nothing to do but look at the evidence again and again she developed a knack for seeing things that other Amethysts overlooked.

Even for all the cases that were solved purely because of her, all the black market operations she cracked and all the criminal leaders she had brought down, the other Amethysts thought of her as a failure and treated her as such. They brought her into cases begrudgingly, always with a hissed under-the-breath insult.

Homeworld did not take well to inferior products. Once she had enough money saved to move out of the squad barracks and work from a distance, she resolved to only step outside when absolutely necessary.

…..

The pearl was the one who answered the door. Somehow, Slim wasn't surprised.

She was ushered in without a word to where Orthoclase was buried up to her elbows in the chest cavity of another pearl.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your fine company?” Orthoclase drawled.

“I need your help,” Slim admitted.

[sawthefaeriequeen]

Top Ten Books Read In 2018

1) The Last Summer of the Death Warriors by Francisco X. Stork

I picked this up at a book fair, read the summary, and figured I'd surprise myself with this author I'd never heard of before. It's about the friendship between DQ, a guy with terminal cancer dealing with his complicated feelings for his estranged-but-conciliatory family, and Pancho, a guy who's biding his time until he can get revenge on the person who's killed one of his family members. I like that both boys are raw and real and people—Pancho obviously has messed up emotions, but DQ can be plenty bitter and angry too: he's not an Inspirational Cancer Patient stereotype.

2) The Sherwood Ring by Elizabeth Marie Pope

Girl moves into her uncle's old ancestral house sometime during the 18th century and gets immersed into the past lives and loves of the ghosts that thrived there during the days of the Revolutionary War, their paths often crossing each other's. I swear I have never seen more delightful ghost characters in my entire life.

3) The Unbound by V.E. Schwab

So by the time I'd picked this up, I was having mixed feelings about V.E. Schwab – on one hand, she'd always written worlds that engage me almost instantly with their creativity. On the other hand, I'd just recently been horribly disappointed by the ending to what's been her most popular series so far: I thought her final Shades of Magic book did a most spectacular job on dropping the balls on everything good about it. Up to reading it, I'd thought the author's hype was deserved. But after, well…

So when I picked this up, it was with much trepidation. I'd loved the previous book, The Archived: the big old house setting, the grim closed-off girl/sweet sunny boy dynamic the lonesome warrior setup, all were like catnip to my id. I didn't want it ruined by a bad sequel. Fortunately, this book took everything I loved about the book and turned it up to eleven. It upped the stakes, it intensified the relationships, and it also added a mental illness angle that I personally found very meaningful.

The author is still kiiinda on notice so I'm not sure I want a third book. If there is one, dear God, please be good. *crosses fingers*

4) Turtles All The Way Down by John Green

I remember thinking, as I was reading this: this is really, really working for me but will it work for someone neurotypical? 2018 was hell and I was just so desperate for the people in my life to get it, and so I kept hopping on trains of thought like this.

Anyway, this book was spot on in what goes on in the wirings of my anxious brain. Green's usual turns of phrase took an incredibly frenetic turn at times, which, I know, is exactly what it's like to have a mental illness. This is not a book about "this is what to do" it's about how it IS or how it can GET.

I'm still really grateful for that quote about the spiral – how it tightens, but also how it eternally widens. When I first saw the cover, I thought it was kind of blah; now I look at that spiral and see something different. I see the hope of creating a new 'normal'.

5) The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

This was so readable it surprised me. I thought I'd go slow on it because: war story where it's a foregone conclusion that it ends tragically for the leads? Yeah, I'm not in a rush to reach the end of that. But I blazed right through this book. There's something really addictive about Madeline Miller's storytelling and how she brings her characters together and follows their blossomings and downfalls through the years. And then, the course of the Iliad and the inevitable sadness for Achilles, Patroclus, and Briseis was more like the slow turning of the tide rather than getting hit with a tidal wave. Anyway, not only was it readable but I'm finding myself eager to re-read it.

6 ) The Hero and the Crown by Robin McKinley

Part of my Read Everything Robin McKinley Writes mission that began last year. I'd liked the sheer escapism and the desert setting in The Blue Sword, but that whole white savior thing kinda put me off from enjoying Harry and the book more fully than I would've liked.

It was not so for this book, thankfully! Who knew that reading about the nitty-gritty of slaying big scaly beasts could be so satisfying? That's classic Robin McKinley, as I'm learning – you love what the protag loves. And then I really dug how the dead dragon's ghost haunting Aerin acts as a metaphor for mental illness.

(As I continue to wrestle with my diagnosis, I continually appreciate all the depression/anxiety metaphors I encounter in media. Maybe one day I'll make a post about it) AND ALSO: a love triangle that's actually well done and that serves our heroine's identity and character rather than taking away from it? Yes. Yes, thank you.

7) A Certain Slant of Light by Laura Whitcomb

Yeah so, this book killed me. It's about two twenty-something ghosts with unfinished business who find themselves in the bodies of two teenagers whose souls appear to have completely vacated theirs. They find themselves falling for each other and trying to find out what happened to their 'hosts' and what went on in their past lives. They also find themselves battling to survive the hostile home lives that their 'hosts' left behind. It's all very beautiful and kind of twisted and also a love letter to words and probably my most unexpected book of the year. And I have NO idea to rec it to people. "Read this, it's kind of fucked up but gorgeous but also can get triggery so step warily?" Uh.

8) Deerskin by Robin McKinley

See warnings above. Oh God. But really, I totally respect Robin McKinley for going full-out faithful to how utterly fucked up fairy tales can be while still creating a survival story. I'm not just talking about Lissar surviving spoilers incestual rape and miscarriage (indeed, I'm not qualified to talk about it) but how hers is a story of healing: by surviving the elements, by nursing living things back into life, by building herself up into a legend without even knowing it.

9) Muse of Nightmares by Laini Taylor

Just an incredibly satisfying ending to a duology that at the same time echoes that quote from Michael Ende's The Neverending Story: "but that is another story and shall be told another time." I love when something ends with that sense of: "there are even more stories and adventures for our beloved characters out there than you can possibly fathom, and you are now free to make up them yourself."

10) Autoboyography by Christina Lauren

I was intrigued by the premise: a half-Jewish guy and a Mormon guy fall for each other over the course of a writing class. And upon starting it, I could tell straight (heh, straight) away that it was going to be a favorite. It's an unabashedly kilig romance about falling for the wonderfulness in each other,and both mains are fucking adorable, and made me want to give them both a ton of hugs. Oh, and this book further reinforced my belief that the key to first-person writing is having a good voice.

Another thing is, I basically never see YA books that deal with growing up in a religion and actually-loving it and having it be an inextricable part of your identity… and then having to deal with the darker, prejudiced sides that you really wish would be excised from it altogether especially if they are opposed to who you are. To deal with it sensitively and touchingly, not only in a YA book but in an m/m romance? Well done.

honorable mention!

-The Secret History by Donna Tartt

I was reading this on the bus on the way home to the province for Christmas and I could not stop laughing and I had no idea to explain to my very curious sister that it was because half the protagonists were high as a kite at the funeral of the friend that they all killed and one of them had just very noisily killed a bee in the church vestibule and it made the loudest sound on the planet and they're all gonna have to ~aesthetically grieve and pallbear now even though THEY killed their friend and w o w it's like Nuwanda from Dead Poets Society was cloned five times.

Sometimes "pretentious people murder someone and somehow it is hilarious" is just exactly my cup of tea.

and a couple of series binges!

Almost 10 years ago (god, what the hell), I had a "YA Paranormal Romances I Might Actually Like" list, and the two trilogies below were on it. There's something gratifying about finally crossing off books on your TBR that have been there for ages:

-The Shade Trilogy by Jeri Smith-Ready (Shade, Shift, Shine) This series came out on the tail of the Great YA Paranormal Romance boom and I really wish I'd picked it up then (I also really wish some of the covers it got weren't so damn off-putting. It's like Animorphs all over again) because it's such cut above so many of the books that were being churned out in those days.

The premise is: what if there was a global paranormal event that left the portion of the population born after a certain year with the ability to see ghosts? I really like that the author thought this out thoroughly – it's not just a oooh spooky ghosties gimmick. Everything is affected: the educational system, the police force, politics, technology, travel, you name it.

The heroine was smart and truth-seeking and had nuancedrelationships with lots of female characters (bff, mentor, aunt who raised her, mom who died… ), the Betty love interest was a total sweetheart who also didn't seem too good to be true and who was capable of making major teenage fuck-ups, and the Veronica love interest was a rock-and-roll ghost who had the post-life character arc that I sadly wish Maggie Stiefvater had given Noah Czerny. I kind of loved them all a lot and one of the reasons I wish I'd read these books as they came out was so I could've been un-jaded just a little bit about Those Pesky Love Triangles.

(Someday I…really ought to make an analysis about why I dislike love triangles in general and what exactly was up with the ones that DID work for me.)

-Wolves of Mercy Falls trilogy by Maggie Stiefvater

I read the whole series toward the year's end. It was precisely the cold-weather binge I was craving. I may have my quarrels with some of her writing decision, but really few people can do atmospheric, poetic writing the way Maggie Stiefvater does. The romances were a bit too YA for me in this one, but I ended up really sympathizing with every single POV character anyway. And I mean, cold and poetry and family and books and wolves-as-family*.

(*One day, I'll have the emotional armor to watch Wolf's Rain again. )