#this is like one of those wacky space age concepts for 'what will the future look like in 20 years?' and it had people in big plastic

[garbutlikethefish]

Playing Video Games With Mind Control

this is so cool!!

[anxiouspotatorants]

It is time. It is finally time for the new Suicide Squad rant (and spoilers will be plentiful):

As someone who was into DC Comics and comics in the mid to late 2010s and had so much hype for the first Suicide Squad movie only to be let down, I was so nervous for this one. I knew it was going to be a roller coaster, but whether I would come out happy or disappointed was up in the air. Having just seen it I will say this: I have no idea if this was a good movie-movie. It was insane. The comedy. The violence. The high emotion. I’m still trying to take it all in. But one thing I do know is that this is an amazing Suicide Squad movie. Gunn and co took the best parts of the comic concept and went batshit with it and that is how this property should be handled (in my opinion). Screw edgelordisms, we need full on insanity free of aiming for shock-value or sexy brutality we want chaos baby.

Starting the whole movie as they did, with Savant as the POV for a mission (or part of the mission) that just goes to hell immediately and kills off so many before the title arrives is the perfect way to start this movie. Like the second I realized this was how they were doing it I was just smiling from ear to ear, this is the spirit of the property.

Part of me wishes we got more Amanda Waller, but what we had was impeccable. Then again, this is Viola Davis we’re talking about, and if she was born to play any character in a superhero story, it is Amanda Waller.

And points to her tech team, introducing them with the death bets was just a lovely way to show how regular this is and how awful everyone is in this movie.

I’m not going to pretend like Deadshot and Bloodsport didn’t have the exact same character- and plot premises… but I will say that Bloodsport felt better executed.

I love that they kept some of the past members and not just Harley. Rick Flag got to have a full personality and interactions with his team members and to be a true leader and it made me so happy for someone who initially did not give a single shit about his character. The Harley friendship? The Dubois friendship? The friendship with that guerilla leader? Amazing. The one American soldier in fictional media I genuinely like. You go Mr Flag.

The new members were… they were insane in the best way. Gone are the shitty stereotypes and present are some of the wackiest creations to ever grace the mainstream movie-sphere (aka the slightly less normal comic creations): A man who has to shoot out polka dots two times a day so as not to die from a space virus. A giant child murdering weasel. A guy who detaches his limbs and slaps people with said detached limbs. King Shark. The second person to command rats with a fancy gadget. They are all crazy and all weird and all more or less morally repulsive people and I love them.

The amount of times I did a double take over the soundtrack I swear. Jessie Reyez? The Pixies? It was so much fun to pick up on once I did.

Was the depiction of a vague Latin American country stereotypical? Yes. Was the secret American involvement predictable and felt mildly patronizing from a non-American, part Latina point of view? Yep. But damn it if I didn’t have a good time with those stereotypes and laugh my ass off at how well executed some were. I don’t know if it was meant as parody, but that one secretary has me thinking so — and if so I am pleased.

Speaking of Latino dictators Harley’s one day romance with one of the villains was something I never knew I needed. Like it was so perfect for Harley that when it happened I almost hit myself for not realizing that this kind of plot should be a normal thing for Harley. And the end of it? Perfect not only in this standalone movie, but also in conjunction with the first and with BoP.

The Taika Waititi cameo??? Oh my god??? I did not expect that and I love it?? Sir, What We Do in the Shadows is impeccable.

Rick Flag’s death actually surprised me. It shouldn’t as this is Suicide Squad, but I kind of expected him to be on Harley’s level of unkillable (because let’s face it, no one kills Harley). What I will say is that his death was good and his final words and actions made me love him all the more. I hope this spawns more Rick Flag content, or at least inspires me to look at what already exists, if he already is as this movie made him (it’s been ages since I read one of the Suicide Squad reboot comics okay).

Starro. How can a villain be so wacky and so terrifying at the same time? I did not expect a literal alien starfish to have more terrifying powers and a more tragic plot execution than Enchantress. But here we are. And that damn star just wanted to be floating in space, and instead it was stuck getting revenge by killing and puppeteering human corpses. Wow that thing was creepier the more you think about it.

I don’t know what I think about Polka Dot Man. I loved watching him on screen but also damn those mommy-issues were on a new level. Not just in his backstory but how he literally sees her in every person around him that was insane. Very funny but like also the kind that makes you laugh just because you’re uncomfortable and don’t know how else to releive the tension.

When Waller got knocked out by a staff member I immediately thought «oh my god Amanda Waller is going to kill half the staff for this», so I’m mildly surprised and disappointed that I didn’t get to see that happen. But also I should maybe expect something like this in a potential future Suicide Squad movie. We can’t have everything in a movie as packed as this.

Peacemaker was very horrible and worked really well. Don’t really have much to say about him, not because I didn’t enjoy him but because I already feel like the film itself has said it for me. But the planting and payoff for his death? Chef’s. Kiss.

Harley’s wardrobe was beautiful. Ratcatcher 2’s combat outfit felt like a steampunk plague dream. Bloodsport’s mask was supercool. Rick Flag’s t-shirt was amazing. But the best little outfit was the Mafalda-keychain and her red dress, hands down. Oh and King Shark’s fake moustache finger moment.

King Shark is shaped like a friend I don’t care how many people he ate alive on screen he looks so huggable. It feels like wanting to pet a bear. You know it will kill you but damn it look at those paws and those cute eyes!

I really need to give it to not just James Gunn but the entire production team for this movie. The aesthetic was perfect. The story was the right blend of whimsical and violent. The finished product was a literal rollercoaster and I mean that in a good way. If superhero movies have to be like amusement parks, I hope they’re more like this one and BoP.

I’ll finish on the note that while I think this movie was great and hopefully a step in the right direction for the DCU/DCEU (as in stop trying to play Marvel’s game and just do your own thing/ let your creative teams run wild and free), it is not the first step. Cathy Yan, Birds of Prey and the production team for it took a step first, and they deserve due credit and attention. If you loved this Suicide Squad movie and haven’t watched BoP yet, do so. Because they really are in the same ballpark while doing things in slightly different ways. And any good DCEU movie deserves more attention so the studios know that creativity and risks should be rewarded. I want more DC movies like this, not necessarily in genre but in creative risks. I want a Black Canary rock movie. I want Alfred in a reverse heist movie alone in the batcave against Gotham villains. I want Gotham Academy on screen play by play from the comics. I want a fully animated psychedelic-like Khalid Nassour as Dr. Fate movie. I want elevated horror movie Constantine. I want weird ass Lois Lane journalist movies with a heavy side of Superman. And I want DC movies I didn’t even know I wanted.

Support creativity in mainstream comic movies. Help me become a DC fan and happy about it again.

[sometimesrosy]

The person that send the ask about JRoth refering to Echo and Madi in the past had/got made me take a sec and think because i understand refering to E in the past because i think that BE are going to break-up but why would he refer to Madi in past tense? and then i remembered aa spec that you sai regarding Madi staying in the planet and Clarke leaving with the others, i think? do you really think that would happen and can you talk more about it? 1/2

2/2 i mean i just don’t see Clarke leaving her daughter alone in another planet, altough there is always the whole flame thing, idk how that is gonna affect their relationship but i mean, would Jason really take away her daughter? that’s a new low, even for him lol

He might just have spoken about them in the past because he was speaking about what happened to Clarke and Bellamy over the time jump. That was all in the past. What happened OFF screen affected who Clarke and Bellamy were in the current timeline. 

As he’s writing, or storyboarding, that means that he’s developing THEIR story based on the past. It might have been a mistake just based on his focus as he writes. None of what they say in cons is edited, you know? You can’t expect them to be perfect or precise.

My speculation about them leaving Two Suns Planet is PURE speculation and just something they COULD do based on certain themes and foreshadowing and tropes and archetypes. It doesn’t at all have to be story they go for. Just ONE story path. 

But you say that taking a characters daughter away and leaving her on a planet alone with others is a new low for JR?

I think that is the EXACT SET UP OF THE 100. Abby Griffin lost her daughter, who was sent down alone onto a poisonous planet with 100 delinquents. 

New low? Or, hey, what this show is about?

Oh. Is it different because Madi is so young? 

Charlotte. Tris. Baby Lovejoy. Aden. Ethan. 

Kids don’t escape violence, loss or death on this show. This is BUILT IN to the narrative. 

Don’t confuse a plot line that you don’t like with something that doesn’t fit. Because it DOES fit. It’s pretty standard that kids on this show grow up a LOT faster than kids irl. And Madi HERSELF was left alone at the age of FIVE. So the concept that JR wouldn’t POSSIBLY leave a child alone is ABSOLUTELY FALSE. BTDT. Pay attention.

In many ways, this show is about the new generation, THE KIDS, learning to find their own power and stand up and change the world for the better. All our delinquents except for Bellamy were kids when they landed on earth. That is the NATURE of this show.

You identified with the kids, so you didn’t notice, except for occasionally, that our kids were actual kids, because you were inside their heads and instead you saw the freedom and the power and the challenges and the heroism. When we looked at the PARENTS, we saw them as characters who did stuff TO the kids, who abandoned them or abused them or sent them to earth or betrayed them or whatever it is. Maybe you didn’t notice because all the actors were playing younger than their real age, because the show WANTED you to think of them as active adult principals. But Jasper and Monty? What were they? 15? That’s only a few years older than Madi. And they had NEVER been left alone to survive by themselves. They weren’t as capable. Maybe the subtle shift of adults playing kids to kids playing kids means that the writers want you to think about what it means to grow up, to be responsible, to be an adult or a parent. Remember, their initial thought was to make the commander a child. They’ve actually gone BACK to their original concept. 

NOW you’ve got YOUR kid as the parent, as the person who is the hero with the motivation and desires and goals. So you see Clarke as the active principle and Madi as the passive one. But it’s the SAME story. 

Clarke raised Madi to be independent, she was driving and going off alone at 11. Hunting and gathering and facing a post apocalyptic earth alone. That’s how she raised her. Now that people are back, Clarke is clinging to Madi and trying to keep her safe when before she’d raised her to keep HERSELF safe. 

We’ve already seen Clarke struggle with the same thing Abby struggled with. Learning to LET HER DAUGHTER GO TO MAKE HER OWN DECISIONS. The audience is sometimes outraged that anyone would allow Madi to make these life or death decisions intended to save Clarke, but Clarke was making life or death decisions from ep 1, and we were outraged that Abby would try to stop her and keep her a child.

So what I’m saying here? This is a THEME we’ve seen in The 100. Madi is a bit younger, but she is also just as capable as Clarke. We have SEEN her be capable. 

Would JR have Clarke lose Madi? 

He had Abby lose Clarke, didn’t he? So yeah. He would. It isn’t some worse horror inflicted upon her. It is a cyclical story. The parent must release her child to her own future as her parent released her. The youth shall inherit the earth.

Actual literal line of dialogue. They PASSED THE BATON. 

So, we need to pay attention to these things if we want to understand something more about the story. 

so my theory about return to earth? ok

so the idea is that they will have to leave planet two suns, that they will have to DESTROY the comfortable, peaceful human society on the planet because it is, like MW, evil. I think we’ll have a parallel to MW. We already know that the eligius 4 mission was a colonization mission, intent on USING the planet for resources because the earth was used up. This is the bad kind of colony. 

We’re also contrasting “doing what is good for you people” with “doing what is right,” and I’m afraid that joining Russell in a peaceful world where their people can finally live life, which would be GOOD for their people, will actually be harming the planet and either another segment of humans OR the native aliens on the planet. 

So in order to do the right thing and be the good guys, they’ll have to destroy this “peace” and sacrifice and easy life for their people.

This would help Clarke and Bellamy resolve their trauma in MW, where they had to DESTROY an entire people, and never made peace with the fact that they HAD to because those people were not JUST another society, but a TOXIC one who was using other human beings as cattle and torturing them, and intending to take over the surface. 

So while this made her think maybe there were no good guys, the truth is, that even though they committed genocide, it was because that society was EVIL. They WERE the good guys. Sometimes you HAVE to do harm. 

So I think we’ll see this again and this time they will recognize that the choice is to let evil flourish through passive inaction and possibly benefit, or GIVE up the soft life and save a planet and a people from subjugation and STOP the cycle of violence that humanity spreads.

See, we’re working on making sure that Humanity DESERVES to survive. So being faced with a pretty, peaceful society that does not DESERVE to survive, means they have to make active choices against it.

The thought here is that they are subjugating or enslaving the aliens or alien/human hybrids or lower class humans of this planet. ECHO, being a child soldier and slave for the throne, while not feeling like she belongs to spacekru, will feel a kinship with the slaves on the planet and she will stay with them.

The other possibility is that Becca has given an ALIE AI to the new planet, so the flame is not irrelevant. Because the flame was created to STOP ALIE. So if there’s another ALIE helping to subjugate these new people, then the FLAME, aka Madi, is there to stop that. COULD someone else take the flame? Yes, because they’re all going to have to be nightbloods. But it’s possible that Madi herself feels too much responsibility and wants to stay to help the new people. but the story here would mean that Madi wouldn’t be alone, but Echo would be staying with her, as her protector. IDK. 

I don’t know it’s an idea. I got it when I realized that Raven said, “Just once I wish I could take off of a planet without it being on fire,” and she did that TWICE, which means the magic number three might have that coming true. So then I imagined raven taking off of this new planet, NOT on fire, but still needing to leave because they destroyed the “peaceful” society. Like breaking the cycle means they leave it a better place, rather than the earth, which humanity has killed. 

Also with the way the time is going, it took 75 years to fly to the new planet. If they go back to the earth, that’s 200 years total, which is the ORIGINAL speculation for how long The Ark would have to stay in space before Earth would be livable. That’s just too neat a coincidence for me. Makes me think that in, maybe s7, they might be back on the earth again. 

All just ideas. I know it’s wacky. But I’ve had a lot of wacky ideas, like using Cryo sleep to escape praimfaya. Or the exodus after they lose Eden. Heck, I told y’all after hakeldama that this show requires Clarke and Bellamy to be TOGETHER in order to work. So I have wacky ideas that I put together when I think about various narrative elements. So here. Have some more.

Also. Because we’re all responsible for our monsters when we let them out, right? Well humanity destroyed Earth. Do they really get to just ditch it and find .a new planet to ruin? I feel like they need to go home and face the mess they made of their planet. To EARN their survival, they have to fix what they did. They have to make amends. Stopping it from happening on another planet might do that, but also, taking care of the planet they hurt. 

[maverick-werewolf]

Random Werewolf Fact #5 - Becoming a Werewolf

So how does someone become a werewolf, anyway? Ask almost any Hollywood movie, video game, TV show, novel, and what-have-you, and they’ll say: “Being bitten, of course!” And there are always tons of other wild answers people come up with, too. Here’s a coherent list of some from legend - and some that aren’t, just to point out a few more of those pop culture creations.

I’m going to preemptively say please don’t trust any of the silly lists you see everywhere on the internet or consider them a reputable source. Those make werewolves cry and then go eat someone out of frustration.

Also, this list will obviously not include quite every obscure possibility inside or outside of folklore. There are simply too many around for me to list all of them here (especially some of the wacky things in more obscure legends - as well as some of the even wackier things in pop culture today). Feel free to send me an ask about something if I left it off!

Did NOT appear in folklore:

You’ll notice the majority of this list associates them specifically with disease in some way and turns being a werewolf into an infection. (Keep that in mind for next week’s werewolf fact.)

Being bitten - Some scholars claim there were a few old, obscure legends in which claims were made that a werewolf’s bite could spread the curse - and I’ve seen some around, myself (including some French ones that seem to possibly actually have some basis behind them). But the real question is, are they reputable? I’m personally going with probably not, which is why “being bitten” is exclusively in the section of NOT appearing in folklore. Werewolves transferring their curse via bite was almost certainly created by Hollywood (namely Cut Siodmak again) and then picked up by every form of media imaginable. This is just another of those generally modern ideas that brought them closer to being a disease instead of a curse (looking at you, rabies).

Being scratched - This one is very, very recently contrived (and as you may have noticed honestly kind of irks me for various reasons; more on that later). There’s not a lot to say about it other than that. I’m not sure who exactly made it up or when, but I wish they hadn’t. It’s become quite prolific.

Werewolf sex - Rawr. It’s fine (I mean unless you wanted it?), ladies, having hot werewolf sex won’t give you your partner’s curse, unlike what some pop culture would tell you. This is just another one of those things popular media made up to make werewolves more closely associated with “infection” of various types (yes, including STDs), and to try to associate them more with sex in some way. So have all the werewolf sex you want! You can even get kinky with scratching and biting (disclaimer: depends on your lore, also the werewolf might transform and eat you in a not-fun way during it in most modern media)!

Drinking/otherwise being exposed to werewolf blood - Once again an association with disease, nobody exposed to werewolf blood in folklore was ever at risk of becoming a werewolf, themselves.

Genetics - And lastly, an equivalent to a hereditary disease. This was never a thing in folklore, either. There were no werewolf “genes,” for assorted obvious reasons. All of this is very Hollywood, and very “let’s make monsters into science.”

Appeared in folklore:

Magic skins - A very common one, especially in Scandinavian folklore, someone could always just don a wolf skin and become a werewolf. Usually the skin is in some way enchanted (blessed or cursed, depends on your story and viewpoint). Most often they were wolf skin cloaks, though belts also made some appearances. The hard part, sometimes, was getting them back off, such as what Sigmund and Sinfjotli went through (Sinfjotli himself was later accused of being a werewolf, in the Poetic Edda).

Potions, salves, etc. - Another relatively common one, though this appeared much more often in the late Middle Ages and Early Modern period than any other time frame. One could drink a potion to become a werewolf, or else rub a magical salve all over their body to immediately transform.

Curse from a witch - Watch out for those witches, because they can turn you into a werewolf if they don’t like you. And when it comes to a witch’s curse, you might not necessarily be turning back into a human until you break it.

Curse from a god - Much like the witch’s curse, a curse from a god could result in a permanent or semi-permanent werewolf form, with little (very well spaced out, over a matter of weeks) or no regular shifting back to a human form. For example, Zeus cursing Lycaon to be a wolf - Lycaon was never turning back from that. This isn’t always the case, though.

Performing certain rituals - This is a very broad category, because plenty of werewolves became werewolves after they did some ridiculous ritual or another. For instance, in Arcadia, you had rituals that required someone to swim all the way across a lake under the light of a full moon and they would emerge a werewolf on the other side. Note that none of these rituals involved anything sexual, and generally didn’t even involve violence either (sacrificing virgins has nothing to do with werewolves), unlike modern depictions.

Gift from God - This is an unusual one, pretty much only exampled by the court case of a man named Thiess who came to court admitting he was a werewolf, after multiple eye-witnesses saw him turning into one. However, Thiess said he is a Hound of God. He was released from the court because no one could find fault in him. (You’ll be hearing about Thiess in more detail here in the future! I love his story.)

Test from God - This also didn’t result in evil, feral werewolves trying to kill people. In this case, quite simply, people were either forced to turn into werewolves or even opted to turn into werewolves in order to test the goodness and humanity in others. There are multiple accounts from Christian monks on this subject, of werewolves approaching someone (often a monk, themselves, and the subject of the test) and asking for help, or else helping that person. Their reaction to this kind-hearted, gentle wolf would be the test of their goodness. Because if a man cannot treat a kind, gentle wolf the way he would treat any kind, gentle man, he isn’t really a very good person, now is he?

Deal with the Devil - This started up fairly recently, when werewolves took a turn into being evil - in the Early Modern period, well after the rise to power of the Catholic church (which, in later periods, decided werewolves were evil, unlike the medieval accounts told by the monks). Plenty of people claimed they made a deal with the Devil to receive a salve or a skin that would allow them to take the shape of a wolf. Since they were dealing with Satan, they of course wanted this shape so they could romp about and murder and cannibalize people with the power of a wolf - and also a disguise, since no one would recognize them.

Family curse - There were times, of course, when a family in legend was kind of ambiguously cursed - and this would result in someone being born a werewolf.

Being born on Christmas - Here’s some fun Russian folklore for you: if someone dared to share the birthday of Christ, they would be born a werewolf as punishment. Or, alternatively, according to one account, this was actually an awesome blessing (I’d take it).

Being conceived during a new moon - Again from Russian folklore, if you were conceived during a new moon, you would be born a werewolf. I was born on a new moon... does that count, I wonder?

Next week’s post will be all about this modern idea of lycanthropy as a disease as opposed to a curse (as you saw so readily exampled in pretty much all the newfangled ideas of becoming a werewolf that were recently made up by popular culture), how recent of a concept this is, how it’s become so predominant in werewolf media - and maybe even a little bit of why exactly this is a bad thing.

(If you like my werewolf blog, be sure to check out my other stuff!

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[centaurrential]

“The Big See”

Before I start this next project, here are some addenda to my last post:

1. I made an error in my section on units of measurement. The time it takes for light to travel a meter is actually approximately 1/300,000ths of a second. However, what I said about using light as a standard for measurement still stands, and it’s pretty reasonable to at least think of it that way. That’s because light is sort of hierarchical in the sense that we obey it (at least we did, initially), and we don’t run the risk of falling into infinite regress, which according to professional philosophers is a problem (I might say that with a little sarcasm...). We didn’t build light like we do its human counterparts in terms of ‘boss-dom’; we only perform something like an irrigation.

2. An important intermediary in the psychology of a grocery shopper is an assumption that the supermarket will have what they need. The very fact that people even make these kinds of assumptions is indicative of how advanced our economy has become. So again, please stay mindful about the processes, that you don’t see plainly, that ensure you can have what you want. In one episode of “The Crown”, set some time in the 1960s, the Prime Minister of Great Britain (who happens to be the leader of the Labour Party - go figure) remarks that the opening of a new supermarket signals the “democratization” of food and other essentials, and he is quite right. Our essentials (and certainly non-essentials too!) have been consolidated into single, publicly accessible buildings--anyone can walk in and out. Many different products sit on the shelves, inertly, side by side--neighbours--as the inconspicuous faces of a wildly complex yet hidden ecosystem.

P.S. The link between human psychology and economics will resurface later in this post.

When developing characters, writers of fiction often comment on the momentum that launches the characters into writing themselves, almost independently of the author’s own mind. Hmm, I wonder why that is? Maybe it has something to do with that little thing that starts with the letter “A” and ends with “rchetypes”... I feel the same way about my own writing, which I view like a fiddlehead unfurling into a frond.

Ok, so, I was brought into this world at the intersection of a lot of different forces at work--I was a bridge between two completely different socio-economic classes, and I suppose that inevitably set me on a trajectory by which I would find myself in many, many diverse and often peculiar social situations. You know, if you’ve lived a quiet life that doesn’t involve zig-zagging from one insane scenario to the next, you’d assume that all people are a certain way. I will never say that I was always comfortable in such situations, but as a result of introspection and for my own sanity I needed to excavate some gratitude for those experiences. The reason for that is, the more difference, the more heterogeneity in the set of things you come into contact with, the more clearly you can see things for what they are. Here’s an analogy: It’s akin to the meaning of something, carved by a sentence. In the spirit of boundedness, sentences are then coated with another layer of meaning as they sit within paragraphs. Paragraphs within stories, and stories within ‘bodies of canonical literature’.

I admit it: I am a spy. When I was younger and less self-assured I’d often find myself the onlooker in social situations, and if I was a participant, it would often be to my detriment. Sometimes that was ‘cause something about me attracted negative attention, and sometimes because I found myself in a state of social paralysis, not having a clue what magic word would open the sky and send the ladder of social climbing down and within my reach. But in all of my glorious sponginess I picked up little observations here and there and so this, below, is the culmination of all that.

This is a commentary on human relationships, and particularly what people think they should offer to those relationships. I must make it clear that I am not pretending the problem is an easy one to solve because we are dealing with instinct, and deeply ingrained attitudes, but I do have principles and I do have an orientation that I prefer. Ultimately the way one chooses to act is their own prerogative (given a certain amount of knowledge that they possess), but there are always sacrifices to be made and consequences to think about. And for those who are capable of it, guilt is a beast.

I was once in a conversation with a mental health professional--a psychiatrist, to be exact. Meaning he had a legal licence to practise mental healthcare, to conduct psychotherapy, and to prescribe medication. He had what we think of as ‘credentials’. He said to me, “relationships don’t define you”.

WHAT?!

This is the kind of person that is entrusted with the emotional mending and security of a damaged individual, and these approaches to life are thought to be okay? Imagine someone impressionable, lost, misunderstood, and unable to understand people in return, taking this idiot’s word as law, and then applying that attitude toward their life’s activities from thereon out. It’s like, why the fuck are you feeling shitty in the first place? It’s because people can be cruel, and if you’re telling me that that’s not at all involved in forming your character, then...well, I just don’t know what to say to that. And the converse is true, too: as a human agent, you do have a responsibility to other people. This psychiatrist was basically saying that you are free from obligations to others, and I think that’s definitely reflected in the attitudes of the immature. If you don’t want that kind of responsibility then go be a hermit, completely alone, in the middle of nowhere, and let’s see how well you do. At least if you’re on your own you won’t have to be accountable to others.

You see, for the people who find themselves on the more radical side of the spectrum of reductionism, nothing and nobody is special, and nothing is sacred. In fact, I think reductionism breeds nihilism. (FYI, if you’re new to the idea of ‘reductionism’, it simply means that anything and everything can be explained in scientific terms. So for example, an emotion you may be feeling is only due to the presence of a hormone, or neurotransmitter, and along with that, its molecular structure and how that interacts with your neural structure.) Every damn thing can be explained to oblivion...

Fools.

Imagine physically entering a room with furnishings arranged a certain way, art of a particular kind on the wall, different colours interacting with one another, and the feeling you get when you take it all in. Do you feel good? It must mean the different elements giving the space definition are interacting harmoniously according to your innate sensibilities. Do you feel bad energy? Then there is something amiss. Maybe you can figure out what needs changing, maybe you can’t. Maybe it’s so overwhelmingly bad that you have to leave the space. I see human interaction the same way, and I challenge the reductionists to piece together every little detail about the nice room that they can, and then give me a scientific explanation for why those details produce a certain feeling. I want it to be revelatory enough to make me go, “So THAT’s why!!!”

I hope you trust your grammar.

I don’t know much about feng shui, but I’d imagine what I described above is similar. And because it’s obvious different people have different aesthetic preferences, it follows that the ‘energetic configurations’ they prefer are different too. By now you probably realize that when I use the term “energy” I’m not using it like E = mc2, I’m using it in the New Age way.

Sometimes quasi-reductionists allow for things called “emergent properties”. That basically means that there are little elements that can easily be described in an atomistic fashion, but that “the whole is greater than the sum of its parts”. If you think that way, then maybe the idea of a soul has some credibility. I think this is what Rene Descartes (also the inventor of the Cartesian plane I used in my last post) grappled with in his investigation into where the mind “sat”. He decided it was the pineal gland, but he was saying that there needs to be a location, a physical location. The mind-body dichotomy is a difficult thing to resolve, if it’s even a dichotomy at all... But I think in general people have a hard time with the concept of a soul because the soul is intangible, and science is now so integral to the way we live our lives that without scientific explanation we are left dumbfounded. But we can’t just leave it at that; oh no, it’s yet another frontier that must be conquered... If there’s something we think we can know, we must know it.

It’s sort of been decided that reason in decision-making is best practice. That was to ensure the people who make decisions are trustworthy; that their personal biases and wacky emotions wouldn’t get in the way of valuable, objective contributions to the development of civilization. If you consider the lay of the land today and you think it’s a good thing, then that shift in thinking paid off nicely. But emotion of ANY kind is now thought to be an interference; it is unprofessional, it is inappropriate, it is not reasonable.

In fact, for many people, relationships are just an afterthought. Like parents who don’t think twice about the way they say things to their young children when admonishing them.  And emotional labour isn’t thought to require as much mindfulness, or to be as rewarding as market-related labour and therefore the young ones you’re responsible for teaching about how to behave as honourable people in the world suffer greatly. Wake up! Those little ones will, in no time, be carrying the anchors of the future within them. Child psychologists have identified the age period between 2 and 4 years to be absolutely crucial in forming a child’s sociability. Of course the relative progression of time for an adult compared to a child is fast. Two years can go by in what seems like an instant (and parents do often say that is the case), but for a child of that age, two years is a hell of a long time. Additionally, we need to take seriously the fact that investment of that type is not something you can just go back and change in case it doesn’t suit you in the future. It’s either now, or never.

And as those kids grow up, they’re going to find something to invest in, too.

Say you, the now-grown kid, decide to one day admit to a friend that, God forbid, you want to fall in love and you are searching for your partner. The usual response is: “Focus on your education. Focus on your career; get that established before you do anything like that.” And the best one of all: “Have some ‘fun’ before you settle down.” Okay, there’s a lot to unpack here.

Right off the bat you know this friend doesn’t give equal importance to both “The Career” and to romantic relationships. You know what that’s a product of? Propaganda. I mean, how could you possibly be a productive member of a capitalist society if you devote a good chunk of your energy to another person? There’s no bankable return on that kind of labour! The perpetrators of that propaganda hate real love because it’s so compelling and because it compels people like that it’s considered a “distraction” - it interferes with the profiteer’s ability to squeeze out of you everything that they possibly can. So what they’ve decided to do is market individualism and radical independence as ‘the right way’. And not only that, but what real love can show you is a need to switch up your priorities, that there is less you need in the way of materialism because the love from this person sends you to outer SPACE!

We’re told it’s a dangerous thing for a person to be dependent on another in that way. But that is yet another example of things we just assume to be the truth because that’s the structure of the current zeitgeist.

And what’s more, you shouldn’t put all your eggs in one basket because people are fickle. Your education is something no one can take away from you, but your partner could leave in a heartbeat, if they decide there are better “opportunities” around. But then I say to the partner who took off: if you think of love and romance as opportunities, maybe you shouldn’t allow other folks to waste their time on you. And even if you are like that and you think you’ve found someone you could legally bind yourself to, you’re certainly not spiritually bound, and I would hate to be that other person, knowing that you’re not throwing your entire might into it; that you’re not loving at full capacity. 

Of course, that conception of “romancing” can be learned too, and this is where that notion of “fun” comes into play. To be shallow and promiscuous, to make sure that you can lose your virginity as fast as possible, the free love, the cool detachment from relationships - it’s all bullshit. The sixties were obviously a pivotal moment for the shift in perception of sex and for some reason people thought the revolution to be completely justifiable. Now, people are convinced that giving it all away is a sign of liberation, of self-confidence, of self-determination - even if there’s something tugging at them that may be hinting otherwise. And even if that’s genuinely what you want to do with yourself, I can’t help but think of that attitude as being inherently nihilistic.

Many years ago I was reading an issue of Cosmopolitan where I came across an interview with Scarlett Johansson. Never mind what her personal decisions looked like, she said something profound. She said that sex (of the kind that involves both a penis and a vagina) is fundamentally different between men and women: for women, sex literally is invasive. People with penises share; people with vaginas invite. And for a young woman to try to convince herself that she should feel empowered by these invitations, it can be seriously damaging. I’d say the same is true for a lot of men, who really do believe that sex should be shared in the context of committed love, but conventional wisdom dictates that men find it easier to be promiscuous, to separate emotion from sex, and that women really need to “catch up” as part of their commitment to feminism. This obviously applies to non-binary individuals too. Like I said earlier, what one decides to do is their prerogative, but look critically at your reasons for making certain choices. Don’t, for one second, force yourself to believe that being promiscuous is the only way you can take ownership of your sexuality. Coercion doesn’t just happen on a one-to-one level.  

The point is that people aren’t fucking disposable, but of course disposability is capitalism’s modus operandi and that doesn’t just apply to that smartphone of yours that’s gonna break in a couple of years (or that will be superseded by a better model, whichever comes first).

People do still look for love; it’s in our nature. But these days, they make lists of qualities their ideal partners must possess. And it’s always generic shit like, “must have a sense of humour, must be kind, must be good-looking”...o rly? But the things that cause you to love a person can’t be captured with such dull language. When I think of these lists, I think of that song by Beyonce, “Irreplaceable”. She’s telling the dude not to get too comfortable because the spot he is currently occupying can easily be filled by someone else! That is not love, that is opportunism. Why would you even bother? When you really love a person, you think, “This is the truth. Things cannot be any other way.”

I also happen to think that once people sort of reach the age when marriage becomes a serious consideration, they often don’t marry because of love and a willingness to merge their lives. It’s more like, “Well you seem convenient and this is yet another thing I have to check off my to-do list.” I really want to give some folks a good shake and say to them, you do realize that the wedding you are planning is ONE day where you get to be the star, where you’re gathering the people that mean something to you so you can make a public declaration of your love and commitment to care for the person’s heart (because that is your responsibility), and that a wedding day is absolutely nothing like the rest of your life?!

And then there’s that trope in modern Hollywood, where partnered, career women gather around wine and complain about their significant others. Guys do it too, but they’re obviously shown drinking beer instead of wine and it’s more like, “Oh, you know the old ball-and-chain said I did X wrong today...” And similarly, in “The Crown”, where Tony, Princess Margaret’s photographer lover distinctly says, “Marriage is the opposite of happiness” - but they get married anyway!!! It’s like there’s a brick wall that’s being thrown up, cutting you off from your partner. That doesn’t look like a real partnership to me. And I think, the moment you decide that’s what you’re gonna do, that’s how you’re gonna live your life in response to this other person, then you should seriously reconsider your choices. I used to look at people who behaved like that and think, God, is that what marriage is actually like? Then I want no part of it! Those sorts of arrangements inevitably lead to misery. And divorce can send a person packing with their tail between their legs because it is perceived as a failure. And rightly so. It is a failure of mindfulness, it is a reflection of the “afterthought” I spoke of earlier. It is an indication of your decision to work harder at other shit than at your most important relationship. It is a situation where gratitude is replaced by taking things for granted.

People tend to think that if you’re not a relative of someone’s, that when the “only” stakes at hand are romantic/intimate ones, that such a person is untrustworthy. That’s because those bonds are no longer thought to be strong enough to withstand tests. Let me provide you with a reality check: sometimes even your blood relatives cannot be trusted because they don’t always have your best interests at heart. And if you assume that their goodwill toward you is a given because you are a “natural” family, you would be wrong. Again, you must always pay attention to a person’s motives, what spurs them into action, and we would all do well to treat opinions formed out of resentment with a grain of salt.

You may think that psychopaths are only out to end conscious lives, but those are only the obvious ones, and often they don’t get very far because they are so obvious. The people who put their own evil to good use are disguised in much better ways - so well that you can’t even tell, and they’re the ones that deliberately manipulate your thinking for their own benefit, but definitely not for yours. You may have encountered someone like this in your personal life and sensed that something was “off”. But you’re in denial because there’s no way someone close to you could have evil in them, and you really want to believe that he or she is a good person, but you certainly won’t say anything for fear of blowing the roof off the house. How awkward would THAT be?

I want to offer a new definition of capitalism, which is “the method of creating problems where there are none, and offering a solution that can only be purchased.” Problems are identified in advertising and marketing. Solutions are in the shops. Take make-up for example. I’ve worn it, and at some point I’ll probably wear it again. It can be fun; it can be a way to express yourself as part of a sartorial performance, where people gather to see what you have to (non-verbally) say. But I do not approve of the thinking that a person needs to distort their features, every damn day, because they think their natural faces aren’t good enough. Over the last decade or so, make-up development and marketing has basically exploded and been supported by seemingly innocuous vehicles such as Instagram. And why is it that women suffer disproportionately in this arena compared to men? Don’t get me wrong - men have their problems too, which I will talk about in a bit. But THIS is just so lopsided: what capitalists are telling you is that there is a gap between who you really are and how you should be, and you need to fork out the money, and you need to engage in more labour, to close that gap. No doubt though, what they demand of you must be reasonable enough that it will captivate a large enough audience to make development worth it.

“Aspect perception” is key here, and I’m not talking about ‘contouring of the face’. I’m talking about the entrenched attitude that your plain skin, in all its blemish-y loveliness, needs fixing. I do believe it takes courage to go out in public and leave behind the foundation and the concealer and the other like, SEVEN products some women use daily, because in a way you are baring yourself and you are making yourself vulnerable. Flamboyant women have it easier than flamboyant men, that’s for sure. But male faces are fine just as they are; why can’t that hold true for women?

So now we’re entering the territory of that wild beast we like to call feminism. I just want to make a disclaimer before I piss a lot of people off, in case I haven’t already done so: there is absolutely no way an umbrella term like feminism can equalize all women in terms of the problems we experience, and we must be very careful to sift through those problems that women happen to experience, and those problems that women have because they are women. After all, feminism is at its core a meditation on causes and effects, problems and ways to mitigate them. I mean, I don’t blame people for the messiness of this topic - it’s really bloody hard to put one’s finger on a single, fundamental fact from which all problems emanate. What I absolutely cannot condone is the idea that the solution is to HATE MEN. Sure, there are disgraceful men around, but there are also disgraceful women who believe that they possess a sort of “moral immunity” just because they are women. I’ve had conversations with (at least partially straight) women who may or may not be in relationships with men, who BASH men for the sole reason that they are men! It’s shocking. Would you want to be in a relationship with a person who felt that you were a problem because of something you couldn’t change?

I understand that patriarchy can hit women hard. Some more so than others. But men suffer because of “patriarchy” too, and they don’t always enjoy the privilege that leftists assume men have. Let me explain it this way: when you see a man with power, you see a man. The problem on “the woman’s side” is that she feels there is no one to represent her. That’s one kind of problem. On the other hand, what men see when they look at a man with power is someone pretending to represent them, but what’s actually going on is that the man-spectator identifies all the qualities he has that don’t match up to the ‘ideal’ ones being marketed, and sees that gap I spoke of earlier and really struggles with what he needs to do to fill it. So here we go, here is a problem for which a solution must be found. Feminism shouldn’t be about antagonism between men and women, but unfortunately that’s how things have evolved and certain subsets of women are playing dodgeball with certain subsets of men. Men aren’t just thrown into the world as babies with a hunger for domination - those are learned behaviours, just as women with questionable morals are taught too. But of course a lot of men feel they need to keep quiet because this privilege is their birthright and because they’re men they’ve forfeited any shot at an opinion! At least that’s how it appears to me.

I’ve encountered all manner of people in my life, and let me reiterate something that I think we’ve heard lots. No matter what political orientation a person has, no matter how “cool” they are, to decide if they’re worth having around you must look at the way they treat people, because that’ll illuminate what they really think life should be made of. I’ve met people who consider themselves “radical social justice warriors” and “progressive”, but they’re rude, unkind, and worst of all, they lack humility. Many of them are filled with hate too. And while it is obvious that we need to recalibrate ourselves socially (hence this post), oppression comes in forms that many progressives are totally oblivious to, often because they are “worldly” individuals who come from middle-class backgrounds. 

Oppression is not just about the colour of someone’s skin or sexuality. For crying out loud, a person who is too tall or too short can technically be oppressed too, if they find themselves in a situation that wasn’t constructed with their literal point of view in mind!  I would define oppression as “a relationship between a person and their environment, whereby the environment is constructed in such a way that does not allow for the free and comfortable movement and expression of that individual.” So oppression isn’t static, and if we were to continue thinking of it as static, we’d still be running into problems trying to figure out what the hell to do about it.

Now, you may be asking why I’m talking about radical politics in a post that is focused on relationships. I’ve been around people who were socially disenfranchised. Not since I got ‘woke’, but when I was a child. There’s nothing less motivating or less empowering than the feeling that no one listens to your voice and you haven’t got anyone to translate for you, or to amplify your voice through a friggin’ megaphone. The people in those positions are usually poor, but they’re still trying to live their lives with the goal to at least sometimes feel happy. If that means shopping at big bad Walmart, then so be it. There is no “organizational”, or mobilizing potential there. It is by virtue of that fact that they continue to be in the positions they are in! They have few friends. They are avoided. They are forgotten. You don’t act like a good person because if you don’t you’re going to Hell. You act like a good person because you can’t stand the thought of someone else’s loneliness, pain, and the thought that real love might be completely absent from their lives. And to think that you have caused another’s pain, that is hell in itself. Sometimes I think about those people and I get sad, but what comforts me is the beatitude, “The meek will inherit the Earth.” That one always stuck with me.

Another thing. I’ve come into contact with people who have anarchistic sentiments, and frankly I sympathize with them. They do see how messed up this world has become and some feel desperate enough that they think we’d all be in a better position if we didn’t have capitalism’s puppets signing on the dotted lines. However, I don’t think it’s practical to raze the organizational components of society to the ground. Not only because the sheer amount of infrastructure we’ve built, but because things are so convoluted that people would enter a state of psychological shock! And while some shock is good, too much is debilitating. So with that understanding in mind, any criticisms I have, I offer from a dialectical perspective.

Karl Marx kind of used dialectics in his theories, and what the word basically means is that you’ve got something called a ‘thesis’ and something called an ‘antithesis’, with the antithesis usually being a response to the thesis, and they are always in opposition in some way. If you get lucky, you can meld the two together to generate a ‘synthesis’. This process can go on indefinitely, but the premise is that you can use the tools you’ve already got (and we have MANY, both technological and conceptual) to create something new... and possibly something better. People are angry all over the place (obviously - look how long this post is) and for good reason, but we really need to rethink how we channel that anger. I believe we all agree in one way though: just cut the shit.

Evil is a supernatural thing that preys on you and intentionally toys with the way you see yourself, and the way you see other people. It performs a rape of the soul. It creeps so slyly it can literally be staring you in the face and you don’t even notice it. It’s not like the ‘bad guys’ you see in Hollywood, where it’s blatant about its evilness. What’s so shockingly messed up about it is that it can totally disorient you. It sends you spiralling, shoves you into insanity, makes you distrustful, suspicious. It isolates you. It can cause you to value things you shouldn’t, and it devalues what’s already good. 

I know, because it’s happened to me.

[hunchbearing]

The Sonic Guys’ Story

“I’m heading to Sonic with TJ, baby. See you later.” 

Peter had said those words to his wife at least twice a day for the last sixteen years. He was forty now, almost old enough for his age to justify the dark circles under his black eyes. Janice had loved him once. They used to sneak up to the roof of Peter’s old apartment building in the moonglow of the steamy summer nights of L.A. They talked about their darkest secrets, their greatest hopes. They made love like animals on those sandpapery shingles so many times, the roof had an oval-shaped section worn bare by their writhings. Janice’s incredible yoga-sculpted ass could have been used to hammer the nails back in, if she’d been so inclined.

But that was long ago, and these days her rear end reminded Peter of a stocking full of cream cheese. A mud baby that never grew grass, save for the few scattered stray hairs. Peter always told her where he was going. He made it a point to announce it to her zombie-like face every single time. He didn’t know why he bothered. A diseased part of his mind hoped that maybe, just once, she would doubt what he said. After all, who goes to Sonic every single day? She might suspect an affair with some eighteen-year-old cheerleader who thinks cum tastes like Cinnabon icing. Yeah, that would stick it to the saggy old hag. But alas, she would always wave it off with a generic mumble. “OK, babe. Have fun.” She wouldn’t even extend him the courtesy to look up from the Lots-o-Slots game on her phone. She thought her husband was just going to Sonic. And she was absolutely right. Their last sexual encounter was a drunken blowjob on Valentine’s Day. Peter’s aunt had died that morning. Janice cooked spaghetti for dinner. After they ate, she took off his pants and told him to sit in the table. When he felt the crumbs of his children’s morning Pop Tarts on his bare cheeks, he had to hold back tears. And like an angel of mercy, his own mind came to his rescue. Erotic images flickered across his psyche. Two dollar happy hour.tomorrow. Vanilla blueberry slushie. Fifty cent corn dogs all day long on Saturday. Just fifty cents! Such sweet savings. Such value. It was his first erection in five months. It was his first orgasm in a year. Janice knew Peter was having an affair. An affair with a woman named Sonic. Her sister Audrey would always make jokes when Peter was gone. “Peter is off with his boyfriend TJ again? They’re going on another one of their Sonic dates?” Janice would always offer a weak smile. If only. If only he were fucking a man. But to do that, you have to be alive. Peter was a corpse. An M&M with no chocolate inside. As for his balding blonde friend TJ, she had her suspicions that he was mentally challenged. The three of them went to a movie together once. While Peter was out in the bathroom, Janice took TJ’s hand, gently ran it up her thigh, and pressed it hard into her matted pubic hair. He giggled like a schoolboy. “That’s squishy!” Peter could have that dunce. Those two spent most of the 21st Century at that Sonic place, eating that repulsive cheap garbage. So many nights, Peter came home with that smell on his clothes. He was like a human onion ring. When the odor started to linger in the sheets, she made him sleep in the living room. Whatever his fascination was with that grease hole, she wanted no part of it. She just wanted someone, anyone, to give her a moment of attention. As for TJ, he was perhaps the only human being who enjoyed Sonic more than Peter. In TJ’s youth, Sonic was his refuge from the constant beatings delivered by his shrill mother. “Why can’t you do math!?” She home schooled him, unwilling to put him in special needs classes. “No son of mine is going to Tard School,” she’d often proclaim. “Why can’t you spell your own name? Your own name! You stupid bastard! You worthless stupid bastard!” After hearing the words “stupid bastard”, TJ knew The Belt was coming. Theodore Joseph Jr., in a desperate attempt to please his mother, started going by TJ around age 11. After all, he could spell TJ. Mother was enraged. The beatings only got worse until finally she punctured his right lung. He was placed into foster care. His new mother, Ms. Gladstone, was a 400 pound chainsmoker from Louisiana. She had no children of her own, and treated TJ with a kindness he hadn’t known before. Her restaurant of choice was Sonic. She ate all her meals there and would take TJ to every single one of them. She’d request her chili on the side, so she could slurp it like morning coffee. At home, they would talk and play games, and she would always give him a quarter when he scraped her feet with her pedicure kit.

But of course, paradise didn’t last.

Mrs. Gladstone choked to death on her favorite sandwich: a bacon cheese toaster topped with tots and coney chunks. It happened right in front of TJ, and after he laughed at the way her face changed color, he realized the gravity of the situation and attempted to resuscitate her with a few punches to her flabby stomach. The courts decided that TJ’s mother, who was now fresh out of rehab, was ready for a second chance at raising him. She regained custody, and resumed the savage beatings. But TJ’s heart was warmed by fond memories of Sonic. His church. His promised land. His universe. He wore Sonic like armor, and it dulled the sting of the large rodeo championship belt buckle. When TJ was 25, his mother died of lung cancer. On the day she began her permanent hospital stay, he was sternly informed that he could not sleep in her bed with her. He was enraged, as was Mother. The altercation that followed was thereafter known as “The Mommy Incident” by the staff. The veteran doctors still occasionally retell the tale in the breakroom to put a scare into the new interns. They were legally obligated to let TJ stay in the hospital, so he was banished to the waiting room. During the many days TJ spent there, he made friends with Peter. Peter’s grandfather had colon cancer. When Peter and TJ would sit in the huge, quiet waiting room, TJ would crack wise about his favorite cartoons on Nickelodeon. Peter’s sides would split in laughter. He was charmed by TJ’s juvenile sense of humor. It wasn’t until weeks later that Peter realized TJ was just flat-out juvenile. Peter stood by TJ’s side at his mother’s funeral. They were the only two people in attendance. The funeral director’s two sons had to fill in as pallbearers. “Pretty heavy for a little bitch,” one of them griped. After it was over, Peter turned to TJ and shrugged, “Wanna get something to eat?” TJ paused. For the past 15 years of his life, he hadn’t tasted anything but ketchup toast and boiled cabbage. TJ wrestled with the concept in his mind. Get? Eat? Peter helpfully chimed in. “There’s this one drive-in place I saw on the way down here. Ever been to Sonic?” TJ’s hapless moronic mouth split into a gaping grin. “Let’s go!” And go they did. TJ was in heaven. As they pulled into the space, he was thrilled by the bright colors on the walls and the sleek chrome trim on the signs. It was like arriving in a city of the future. The carhops rolled around on skates with platters of food. They were like angels on wheels. Looking at the menu, he hardly recognized it from his childhood. There were so many more choices now. Thousands of them, in fact. Milkshakes. Malts. Slushes. Cream slushes. Coneys. Cheese fries. Cheese tots. Chili tots. Hamburgers. Toasters. Chicken strips. French toast sticks. Mozzarella sticks. Breakfast burritos. Onion rings. Not to mention the thousands of possible combinations of flavors you could put in your drinks. Chocolate. Vanilla. Cherry. Blue Raspberry. Lemon. Lime. Orange. As if by magic, he never wet the bed again after that day, and only seldom shit his pants. Right there, TJ decided to go to Sonic every single day of his life until he had tried the entire menu. When Peter pointed out to him that it was impossible, that he could live several lifetimes and never try them all, TJ just smiled and affectionately stroked his Wacky Pack toy. In a few short years, he would have a massive collection stashed in his house. Whenever he needed shelf space for a new toy, he threw some of his mother’s old clown figurines onto the front lawn. With the Wacky Pack kids in his house, Mother’s voice could never get back into his brain. Peter also had an immediate attraction to the place. You drive up and pick your spot. You look at the menu. There’s no pressure to decide, because you press the button when you are ready to order exactly what you want, down to the last detail. He was aroused by the level of control he had. Perhaps it was because he felt he had no control at home. At Sonic, he was God and he ruled with an iron fist. It was even better with TJ. Peter was fascinated with TJ. The big idiot could grate on his nerves a little, but he would be damned if he didn’t find his ignorant innocence charming. He had such a zest for life. At least the parts of life that involved Sonic. It wasn’t long before their weekly trips there became daily. They talked about the food, the drinks, the service. TJ would often make a comment on the meal that bordered on insane, and Peter would try to correct him, then ultimately throw his hands up in defeat. “Popcorn chicken? How do they make the popcorn into chicken?” “What do you mean? It’s not popcorn. It’s chicken.” “Right, but how did they turn this popcorn into chicken?” “They didn’t. It’s just chunks of chicken that you can eat like popcorn. Popcorn chicken.” “Oh, so they just feed a lot of corn to a chicken and then cook the chicken.” Was this what it felt like to love a son? The years flew by. TJ remained a child, and Peter ignored his own children. The strange couple learned everything about Sonic. They became the Encyclopedia Sonnica. If you told them what you were going to eat, they knew exactly what kind of drink you should have with it.

“Bacon cheese toaster? Get a blue coconut slush. Squirt of chocolate, squirt of lemon. Oh, hold the bacon? In that case, orange cream slush, squirt of strawberry, and get some real limes in there, and a cherry. Yeah, they’ll do it. They have to do it for you if you ask.” They knew the names of all the kids in the Wacky Pack; first, last, and even middle names. They had written letters to Sonic’s CEO asking for their backstories, and when their letter was returned, they were disappointed with the flimsy answer.

“The Wacky Pack all live in ‘Wacky Land’? What the hell? That’s not even canon!”

They took it upon themselves to create a detailed universe for the characters - one that actually made sense. Their submission to Sonic Headquarters never received a reply. TJ often dreamed he was in the Wacky Pack, running and playing in a world of jungle gyms and smiling tater tots. They would make their pilgrimage to Oklahoma City and visit Sonic headquarters a few times a year. If a new product was coming out, they knew about it before anyone else. If Sonic announced a new dipping sauce on social media, TJ and Peter had posted about it 5 hours earlier on their own Sonic fan-website, along with a 1000-word critique. TJ baffled Peter in this department. Despite the fact he was illiterate, he could dictate a fast food product review that hit the ear like a Shakespearean sonnet. His words on the honey mustard dip actually made Peter weep. For once, TJ was exceptional at something. His mother’s cigarette burns were fading, both from his skin and from his memory.   As for the carhops who delivered the food to them, their opinions were divided. Several of them affectionately called Peter and T.J. the Dailies, because they always showed up at least once a day. They called them by name, and Peter and T.J. knew their names too. That was the carhops who liked them. The others referred to them as “The Menu Fags”. Peter was “Coney Cunt”, and T.J. was “Tater Tard”. Trixie was their favorite carhop. 20 years old, chubby, a front tooth missing. Hearing their Sonic trivia was always the high point of her day. And Peter would stay up all night researching mind blowing fun facts, just so he could recite them to her the next time she served them. She was impressed with him, for God’s sakes. No way would he let her down. On the rare occasion he made love to his wife, he imagined her with a visor and rollerskates. One night as he crudely thrusted into her, he blurted, “Did you know Sonic was originally called Top Hat? They had to change the name because it was already taken - Unnng!” Janice was taken aback. “What are you talking about?” But by that point, Peter had already climaxed. Even his loads were starting to smell like fry oil. “God, I’d like her to sit on my face,” Peter pined as he spotted Trixie delivering to another spot one afternoon. “But how would you breathe?” T.J. laughed. “God, never mind. I need new friends.” A few minutes later, Trixie showed up with their food. “Hey, guys! I saw you got grape, coconut, and whipped cream in your lemonade. What’s the occasion?” Peter smiled bashfully. “No occasion. It’s just that I got extra onions and ketchup on my coney this time, so I figured it would hit the palate just right if I complemented it with something exotic.” “Interesting! Broadening your horizons, huh? You’re the expert I guess. So what have you got for me today?” Peter coyly raised one eyebrow. “Well, just out of curiosity, do you know what Sonic used to be called?” Trixie’s face brightened. “No way. It used to have a different name?” “Peter wants you to sit on his face!” Peter stared ahead blankly. TJ looked at him with an openmouthed smile. Trixie was frozen. “That’s 24.57,” she finally spoke. Peter didn’t turn his head. “Here’s a fifty. Keep the change.” “Hah! He wants your big fat butt on his face.” They didn’t see Trixie again after that. They tried several locations over the next few weeks, thinking maybe she transferred, but she was nowhere in sight. Peter’s libido officially collapsed. Once their favorite server was gone, they took more and more long-distance trips. They called it “Sonic Surveying”. They took notes. Which place has the freshest fries? The cleanest parking lot? Even better, which locations had menu items that nobody else had? 

During one trip, TJ stuck his head out the window and struck a mailbox. Even though his scalp bled like a fountain, he held a towel to the wound and insisted they press on. His health could wait; he had to know if the El Caldera branch really did leave their corn dogs on one side for too long. Eventually, Sonic took up so much of Peter’s time that he had to quit his job at the water department. He signed up as a customer service rep for the sole reason that he could do it at home. As he sat at the computer, his eyes frequently flitted to his framed photograph he took of his neighborhood Sonic. Trixie was holding a Route 44 Dr. Pepper with blueberry flavoring, waving to the camera. Peter would occasionally run his finger over her breasts. As for TJ, he hadn’t had a real job his entire life. His mother was a wealthy heiress, and when she died he became a wealthy heir. But he had no desires beyond Sonic. The family accountant took care of the bills, and when TJ was home he watched his beloved cartoons with the Wacky Pack arranged all around him, all facing the TV. When women saw him in public in his Gucci sunglasses, they would often saunter over and flirt with him. But his childish attitude drove them away like the stench of a dead dog. Many of the would-be gold diggers assumed Peter was some kind of caretaker to the boy. After all, how could a man look so sullen, so empty, unless he was changing adult diapers 7 days a week? Peter was somewhat aware of their reputation among the Sonic workers. Through the windows, he’d occasionally see the fry cooks snicker and point at him. When he walked inside once to complain about his mozzarella sticks, he overheard one of them call him a “gaylord”. Since then, he often made it a point to mention his wife and kids while he bantered with TJ. “My kids would love these dino-shaped cookies.” “I should get another of these Valentine slushies for my wife.” “Wow. With these half-price root beers, I can get enough for my whole family. And fuck the ol’ wife later, if you know what I’m saying.” TJ never knew “what he was saying”. It wasn’t directed at him, anyway. It was just in case the Sonic twerps were listening. There was never a “moment of epiphany” when it came to Sonic. There wasn’t one specific day when Peter realized the restaurant had consumed his entire identity. It came little by little. The only thing was, he didn’t care. Where else would he be if it weren’t for Sonic? 

Would he be back in his miserable cubicle reading meters 40 hours a week? Wow, sounds great. 

Would he be playing with his kids? Fuck that shit. Those girls never loved him. Even when they were toddlers, they cried when he held them. They rejected his presence like an amputee can reject an arm transplant. He wasn’t their hero. He wasn’t even an authority figure. He was just a stranger in their house who paid the bills and kept their cell phones in working order. 

His wife Janice? She’d never admit it, but she was just as hollow as he was. The fun, smart, challenging, sexy girl he fell in love with in college was as dead as Princess Diana. Buried in the casket of a fat old bitter woman, but dead all the same. Who had the right to say he was wasting his time, anyway? What do other people do? Watch sports? See movies? Play games? Listen to music? Everyone on the planet was killing their time as far as Peter was concerned. Sonic was just his own version of wasting time. Entertaining himself with cheap food as the world spun around. As the faint lines on his face became deep wrinkles. As his hairline faded back like a tide. As his pooch became a pot belly and his teeth rotted. As the french fries under his seats got as hard as wood. As his daughters grew older. As they had their own children. As the world’s countries collapsed into themselves. As the continents collided back into one. As the earth’s water baked into the sky from the heat of the sun. As the galaxy swallowed itself. We’re just killing time, at the speed of sound.

[theseadagiodays]

March 30, 2020

Kids Arts Activities through Quarantine

As BC’s spring break officially ends, I am very aware that working parents, with kids at home who now need online schooling and extra care, are extremely hard hit by the current changes.  I also realize that Adagio may not at all reflect the tempo of their lives as they juggle these new responsibilities.  What I hear from my friends in this situation is that Prestissimo Agitato (agitatedly fast) probably sums it up far better.  So, I am hoping that some of the kids’ arts activities which I list below might help give parents even a few tacet moments.  

This accelerated pace also relates to health care workers, grocery employees, and so many others who are working harder than ever during this period.  Conversely, people who have temporarily lost their jobs, aging people who were enjoying the well-earned luxury of post-career social time before the virus hit, and many others now find time spooling out before them in a sometimes overwhelming abundance.  And while I am fortunate to be able to sustain a considerable amount of my work during this unusual time, I relate more to both the challenges and privileges of being faced with increased space in my life.  In fact, I have always been aware that my choice not to have children has meant that my life’s rhythms are quite different from many of my peers.  So, I take this reality as an onus to use the extra capacity I have to contribute where I can.  And writing this blog is one way I am attempting to do that.

As I share this, I am inspired by the words of one of my favorite writers and thinkers, Rebecca Solnit, who in her Harper’s article, The Mother of All Questions, poignantly sums up the role that people who choose not to have children can play in their communities.  “There are so many things to love besides one’s offspring, so much work that love has to do in the world”.

So, for children and adults alike, I offer Lunch Doodles and Lockdown Diaries and Puppet Shows and Haiku.

At 1 pm EST, every day, Mo Willems, livestreams his Lunch Doodles classes for all to follow: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RmzjCPQv3y8

Or, if you want to get your hands a bit dirtier, you might try this homemade playdough recipe to make the rainbows that people are sticking to their windows all over the world to spread hope.

https://www.pre-kpages.com/rainbow-play-dough/

In Saskatoon, Wide Open Children’s Theatrehosts livestreamed storytelling and puppet shows at 10 am CST and bedtime (7 pm CST), every single day, on Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/events/638733030283792/

Christchurch artist, Stephen McCarthy has created a free downloadable, Lockdown Diary, that will keep anyone busy for ages:

https://www.mylockdowndiary.com/?fbclid=IwAR0G3KgCfRfnr2FXhEIumzR2SigQB3bEYXfOu1m9m0g8tqL2RnQPoprJL2w

The New York Times has created a digital coloring book with a truly timely image.  You can play with their online pen or print it out and do it old-school analog style.

https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/03/23/opinion/covid-coloring-activity.html

And finally, if you want to distill your feelings about this unique time, the simple container of a Haiku works very well for this.   The 3 lines form is made up of 5 syllables, 7 syllables, & 5 syllables.  The invite it is to write your own, video record yourself reading it, and then send it to Quarantine Haikus: https://thebridgepai.org/quarantinehaikus/

Here’s mine:

cherry blossom tree

as colorful as ever

like nothing has changed

March 31, 2020

Resilient Quarantine Artist Projects

The life of an artist is one of constant reinvention.  And these times call for just that.  As I’ve shifted from a flute performance career, to directing a community arts non-profit, Instruments of Change (instrumentsofchange.org), to creative writing, I have sometimes struggled to define myself by my job description or title.  However, if I have learned anything from this necessary process of unravelling my identity from my career achievements, I have learned to connect more deeply to who I AM rather than what I DO.  This process of redefinition has led me to recognize that, at the core of everything I do, I am an arts advocate, first and foremost.  So, this is the title that sits most comfortably for me.  As an arts advocate, I am constantly seeking ways to increase public perception of the value of the arts and artists, themselves. And this eloquent article (https://madmimi.com/s/708e601) which my friend, Juliana Bedoya shared, perfectly illustrates why artists are ideally equipped for dealing with our current uncertain circumstances.  To summarize Andrew Simonet’s piece, Dear Artists, This is What We Train For:

1.    Artists are accustomed to charting unfamiliar territory.

2.    Artists are excellent at “working with what they’ve got” - to quote Duke Ellington

3.    Artists are keen observers, and they use those powers to create expressions of resonance and relevance.

4.    Artists thrive at adapting to constantly changing rhythms and flow.

In only the few brief weeks since quarantined living began (although I know that this has seemed eternal for some), it has been remarkable how many resilient strategies and projects I’ve encountered in my artist community.  So, here, I’d like to share just a few initiatives that are happening in my own backyard.

In Vancouver, the Little Chamber Music Series That Could has launched their Isolation Commissions, where individuals, for only $200, can hire solo artists to film a 4 min video of themselves performing something which reflects the impact that this extraordinary social situation is having on their artistic practice. It might be an improvisation, a favorite piece, a work that brings comfort, or a new composition in progress. Incredibly, by March 31st, already 30 video performances from 30 unique artists had been successfully commissioned. Interested “commissioners” can contact Mark Haney at: artisticdirector@littlechambermusic.com to arrange their desired artist partnership.  And you can learn more about their innovative program here: http://littlechambermusic.com/isolation-commissions/

For years, the Sunday Service has provided live improv sets at Vancouver’s Fox Cabaret, and they are not letting self-isolation stop that tradition.  So now, every Sunday, at 9 pm, Cyber Service livestreams collaborative improv, from each of their respective homes, on their You Tube channel:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC2A8-xxVUssHFIr_WDt4Gyg?view_as=subscriber&fbclid=IwAR2ojZlCDLZHjkN6qq0iDKtm4mPkI9dQvoZeGVv9IWpYX85zDfq0lKePegA

Instruments of Change is also playing with our own adaptive strategies as we anticipate the potential cancellation of our free, outdoor summer concert series, Street Beats.  In 2018, originally invited by VIVA Vancouver, I of C launched this series to make a wide variety of top-rate live music accessible to all, while celebrating our city’s vibrant public spaces.    So, in an effort to continue meeting those objectives without the possibility of large public gatherings, Street Beats sound engineer, David Spidel has proposed Street Beats - the Stream Beats edition.  His idea is to drone video record several Vancouver parklets and plazas, and then green screen these behind various livestreamed performances of Vancouver artists.  We should learn, in the coming weeks, if VIVA goes for his slightly wacky concept, and we’ll keep you posted.

April 1, 2020

Lockdown Laughs

This year, the internet exploded with announcements that there should be a moratorium on April Fools Jokes, as we are all living a far worse hoax than any one of us could ever devise.  And while I’m usually a huge fan of this prankster holiday, I fully understand the sensitivity of the ask. So, instead of tricks, I thought I’d just include some good laughs for much needed levity.

As a dentist, my Dad spent his life glaring into terrified people’s mouths, so humor served him well to put his patients at ease.  It is no surprise, then, that he has injected daily doses of giggles into my quarantined existence with his reliably hilarious links.  Here’s my favorite so far:

https://www.theloop.ca/watch/news/strange/this-couple-s-hilarious-horse-dance-has-gone-viral/6144325579001/1660977952457681249%20/your-morning/

Masters of lockdown living, people in China have perfected the art of making themselves laugh in hard times. And watching this American comedian’s stand-up routine, which weaves in crazy Tiktok videos from China, was perhaps the hardest I’ve laughed since this whole ordeal began:

https://www.theatlantic.com/video/index/608485/tik-tok-quarantine/

Also, my local arts community has come through again, with a livestream version of their weekly Thursday night comedy show, Jokes Please, that’s hosted at Little Mountain Theatre, only blocks from our home.  It airs every Thursday, at 9 pm PST, but remains on their Facebook page for future viewing, too. https://www.facebook.com/jokespleaseshow

April 2, 2020

A Simple Verse

Some days, a few artful lines can go a long way.  In life, as is now evident more than ever, there are many changes over which we have no control.  And while we often wish we had the power to say or do something that could shift those things with which we are uncomfortable, this is not always possible. However, what we can control is the steadiness with which we face these uncomfortabilities.  As we all struggle with feelings of powerlessness in these uncertain times, TS Eliot reminds us that patience and faith will get us through.

I said to my soul, be still and wait without hope, for hope would be hope for the wrong thing; 

Wait without love, for love would be love of the wrong thing; 

There is yet faith, but the faith and the love are all in the waiting. 

Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: 

So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing. 

                                                                                               T.S. Eliot

April 3, 2020

Physically Distant Connections

There is much to be learned from trees.  For those who have not yet read the wonderous, Hidden Life of Trees, in it Peter Wohlleben describes the remarkable communication system between our forest friends.  Without language or physical touch, these living beings can support, nourish and love one another in magnificent symbiosis.  In fact, trees are masters of social distancing, as he illustrates here:

“The average tree grows its branches out until it encounters the branch tips of a neighboring tree of the same height. It doesn’t grow any wider because the air and better light in this space are already taken. However, it heavily reinforces the branches it has extended, so you get the impression that there’s quite a shoving match going on up there. But a pair of true friends is careful right from the outset not to grow overly thick branches in each other’s direction. The trees don’t want to take anything away from each other, and so they develop sturdy branches only at the outer edges of their crowns, that is to say, only in the direction of “non-friends.” Such partners are often so tightly connected at the roots that sometimes they even die together.”

Ironically, another term for the crown of a stand of trees is corona. So, let us all follow their lead and trust that our separateness is what will keep us together.

And, if you’re keen to read more about the wisdom of trees, the latest Pulitzer Prize winning novel, The Overstory by Richard Powers, weaves a dense and motivating tale that explores what drives radical tree activists’ passion to save our dwindling forests.  Powers is not a man of few words.  On nearly every tenth page of his 512 page tome, there will be a word that you will likely have to look up.  But trust that you will be the smarter and more moved for it.  This has been the most powerful read I’ve had in the past couple of years, emotionally and intellectually.  So, if quarantine living happens to leave you with some extra time on your hands, it’s definitely worth it.

Pratityasamutpada is my favorite Sanskrit word.  (And yes, as nerdy as that sounds, I do have a favorite.)  It means the interdependence of all things.  And since physical distancing began, nothing has made me feel more connected to my fellow citizens than the nightly 7 pm cheer for our health care workers. So, I will leave you with a video from this week that captures the essence of interconnectedness beautifully.  https://youtu.be/BS8dMC1sfXc

[rvspotlight]

CHOI EUNSUNG

age: 96 liner company: spotlight entertainment position: rap trainee traits: (+) focused, adaptable, crafty   (-) selfish, anxious, secretive  played by: carrie

About:

He’d always been enamored with music, much to the dismay of his parents. To them, a respectable job was something stable. Something he could be safe working in for the rest of his life, and there was no guarantee with the music industry. One day you were big, and the next, you had nothing.

That wasn’t as daunting a concept to Eunsung as it was to his family. He wanted to be an idol. A musician. He knew if he kept working and reinventing himself, persevering and finding new ways to succeed, even if people wanted to be done with him. So against the wishes of his parents, he auditioned for Spotlight Entertainment when he was twelve. And again when he was thirteen. And for a third time when he was fourteen. Lucky number three seemed to do the trick, because that’s when he was picked up as a trainee. After a while, he got his parents to come around, but that was only with the understanding that if he failed, he’d quit and do as they wished– go back to school and do something useful with his life.

He focused primarily on rapping and vocals, working hard at those. His dancing left something to be desired, but through years of training he managed to hone those too, until finally, his superiors decided he was ready. He debuted at the age of sixteen as one of the original twelve members of TRAXX, one of their rappers. Not one of their main ones, though. He couldn’t help but suspect that maybe he’d just been put in the group to fill some space.

His debut could only be described as bad planning. Spotlight, who always liked having some extra trainees handy to hone for the future, had debuted all the proficient male trainees they had, leaving them all but bare, which wasn’t their protocol. What if they wanted to debut a boy group in the future? They’d have no one to put in it. So after a little over a year with the group, he was pulled. He was back to training, preparing for a debut that’d been taken away from him. Growl was the last comeback he got to be part of. Was he happy with it? No. But it wasn’t his choice. And leaving Spotlight didn’t seem like a good plan to him, either. At least if he stayed with them, he could tell his parents that they had bigger and better things planned for him, so they wouldn’t make him quit.

So that’s all he’s been doing for the past two years, dropping the vocal lessons so he could focus wholeheartedly on rapping. As trainees go, he’s a very famous and well known one. And Spotlight plays him up a lot, putting him in behind the scenes videos all the time and letting him appear in music videos and V APPs. Hyping the crowd up some more for when he actually does get to debut again.

Eunsung is quiet. He works hard and is serious, and that’s another reason why he rarely opens his mouth– usually when he does, what comes out can be a little ridiculous; his thought process is strange and fragmented and hard to follow. When he’d been part of TRAXX, he’d been their 4D member. This tends to lead people to look at him through a certain lens; they see him as weird and strange and wacky, but he’s thoughtful and determined too. He wouldn’t still be working this hard if he wasn’t so ambitious.

The rivalry doesn’t instill a sense of competition in Eunsung, but rather a sense of longing. As much as he doesn’t want to leave Spotlight, he wishes he could. He can’t see any other companies pulling him just for the sake of having a backup like Spotlight did.

[theticklishpear]

Regarding your posts on sibling relationships, how are things different when one sibling is much older, especially when the older sibling has moved out of the family home before/very soon after the younger was born? 'Cause it seems like it would lead to more of a nibling-ish relationship, but I know a couple sets of siblings like that and both from the older and the younger it seems a lot like a typical sibling relationship (at least from outside), but without the sharing a childhood part??

You’re right, Anon, I didn’t really talk about age gaps when it comes to siblings, and I really should have. Thank you for bringing it up.

Shared history doesn’t just mean events where both are present:I would argue that while they perhaps do not have a shared childhood in terms of having it simultaneously, they actually likely have very similar experiences between their childhoods. They both grow up in the nuclear household with only their parents, and it’s not as though the parents become drastically different people in the intervening years. They’ll grow up with the same family traditions including how they grew up celebrating holidays and birthdays, the annual Family Pilgrimage to wherever. They’ll both hear the same stories about Wacky Aunt Eleanor and the time Pete’s fish grew three sizes from when they caught it to when they got it home. Both children will have had to learn how to navigate certain emotional trigger points with their parents.

Sometimes, the very birth of a sibling can become the trigger point for the siblings not ever getting along. Suddenly the eldest is no longer the only, and the baby gets way more attention than they do now, and that’s distinctly unfair. That hatred and resentment has the potential to immediately grow siblings apart before they ever get the chance to become friends. One sibling has stepped on the other sibling’s metaphorical toes, and that shapes a sibling as they grow up. Siblings dealing with an age gap don’t have that to come between them. By the time another sibling comes around, the eldest has had all the love and attention and reassurance from their family that they need; they have been able to become their own person before their world changes. They’re better prepared to handle that change and not be angered by it. The odds of the siblings getting along has a better chance already because they’re both able to grow up without a world-shaking change to their fundamental understanding of themselves.

Family values and personality will be more integral:How close the siblings become/remain will depend a lot on the siblings’ personalities and how much they came to find that family–the concept and the people–is important to them. It’s up to the siblings, for the most part, to make the effort to keep in contact and reach out to each other. Additionally, if the parents while they were raising the children didn’t make a point of keeping in contact with their own siblings, it often passes along the ideal to the kids that it’s not important, not really something they need to do. But if the parents are more enthusiastic about their family and speaks well of them and emphasizes the importance of at least keeping in contact if not, like, weekly phone calls, then the kids will be more likely to take that to heart and try to keep that going with their siblings. It helps if all parties got along when they were living together, if they like similar things, or at least have open minds in a way that they’re able to be happy for someone else even if they don’t particularly care about the topic. This is what family values are all about: preserving behaviors that are believed to be beneficial and worth the effort. Unfortunately, not everyone does get along, and sometimes children fight back against values they grew up with, and those things are lost. That’s where personality comes in again. They have to be willing to go that extra step to get to know each other outside of the few times per year they’ll see each other.

It’s built on the ability to commiserate and some advice with low stress:So shared history, right, that idea that they will both have had similar experiences growing up, even if they weren’t both present at the time. With one sibling being old enough to be on their own, the younger sibling feels like they have someone they can talk to who not only totally understands but has also gone through the same thing. When adults do this to kids, or even an acquaintance does it in conversation--”I remember that when I was your age...”--it feels patronizing and annoying because, while that person went through something similar, it was with different people in a very different time. For siblings, yeah, it’s a little bit of a different time, but it’s still the same people, and it’s not like the difference between an entire generation. The parents will still have the same tics and both siblings will be able to groan, grin, and giggle about them. The older can give advice or at least provide comfort in those kinds of situations without it feeling patronizing because, yes, they really did go through this same thing. There’s piece of wisdom out there that usually gets passed along to folks headed to college: Don’t room with your best friend. While it’s not always true, generally speaking it’ll tear the friendship apart. Not only is it a difference in what’s acceptable and a factor of spending too much time together in a small space, it’s also the added pressure of being “on” all the time. Siblings who don’t grow up together don’t have that pressure. It’s a low stress relationship because neither has expectations for the other beyond, “Help me manage the parents; they’re doing That Thing again.”

All of this is not to say that the relationship can’t grow differently or won’t be nibling-ish, but what does it mean for a relationship to be nibling-ish? I’m actually planning on talking about this in an upcoming post, so hold tight, but the basic reason that it’s similar but not quite the same is because it’s sibling--shared parents is a big deal because how the parents act around their own kids is very different than how they act around their niblings. So both children are dealing with the same parents, not two different experiences of those parents. I’ll clarify and get into this a bit better in the future, so if that didn’t make sense, don’t fret. It’s coming soon. Thanks for the question! I hope this has helped put a perspective on it for you. -Pear

[image-communication-fashion-blog]

Niche Report

Cyberdog

 Established in the 90s Cyberdog is a successful alternative fashion brand incorporating cyber club wear, rave culture and florescent fashion defined by a futuristic take on their products, fashion, and accessories. Their neon lit store is iconic and captures in it the image of the brand and its idea of what futuristic fashion is; based in the heart of Camden, one of the most expressive and alternative markets for fashion in London. Cyberdog’s location is a big part of their success and has allowed them to create not only a faithful customer base in and around the area but one that encourages visitors and to buy from them for the experience.

Cyberdog’s unique image and marketing tactics is what made me originally want to research the brand, Cyberdog is a brand for the future and their presence online and all over social media is ahead of the times and as such makes the brand stand out across a much wider platform than it would if it was not for its online marketing. I want to explore the origins of the brand and how they have established themselves as a successful and niche, yet well-known brand. Focusing on how the future and technology has influenced their image and products looking at how their brand has been influenced and how they are influencing other similar markets as well as bigger more main stream brands, and explore what affect the more main stream fashion world has on the brand.  

Fashion designer Terri Davy and business man Spiros Vlahos launched Cyberdog in 1994 - they had to clear a rubbish dump from their plot in Camden market where the shop still is today underneath a bridge. The shop started off as a stall selling Terri Davy’s designs. Davies said that the brand was inspired by her dog a Chihuahua called Chi Chi who was also a clear influence in the name of the company. Cyberdog’s website features a story of their start up stating that “Chi Chi the space Chihuahua” crash landed on earth and thought that the clothing was boring so created Cyberdog. Cyberdog’s wacky and fun look on the fashion is what appeals to its customers; the brand doesn’t take its self too seriously and all of this makes it stand apart from a lot of the industry. Cyberdog grew increasingly successful resulting in two London stores - the original shop in Camden as well as one in Covent garden. There are also stores in Manchester, Brighton and in Ibiza Town, one of the most renowned places for club and rave culture. Although the brand is relatively small in comparison to the massive fashion chain shops on most highstreets its still a renowned and a relatively well-known brand.

Cyberdog’s evolved from a relatively small stall in Camden to quite an established name in alternative and niche fashion. There rapid growth was due to the brands individuality and carefully chosen locations that would ensure he brand reached the right kind of customer base. The brand came about at the beginning of the 90s, the fashion and style that the brand sells was influenced massively by 80’s style. 80’s fashion was all about fluorescent, neon color and pushed a more futuristic wacky fashion style on to the mainstream fashion market. Cyberdog piggy backed off this popularity of color and styles from the 80’s when launching themselves. Cyberdog said that they wanted to “bring the 80s into the future”. The 90s was a point in fashion were people began to dress more freely and go against  the mold, however this revolution started in the 80’s - something Cyberdog was fully aware of. People started to look at body modification, tattooing and piercing with a more open mind and it was becoming a more common practice, especially in Camden were the shop was based. Cyberdog took advantage of the changing fashion culture and came up with a brand that presented its self as futuristic and alien whilst keeping in touch with trends of the past and present making the launch of the brand a complete success.

 Cyberdog’s individuality means as far as competitors goes the brand can easily hold its own, however brand like Fantazia or Rave Ready could potently pose a threat to Cyberdog as both brands sell rave and club wear. Whereas neither brand is as well-known or as esteemed as Cyberdog, both competitors sell their products a lot cheaper than Cyberdog, considering Cyberdog‘s biggest customer would be younger people who are in to the rave and club scene. They could potentially lose a lot of business based on the prices of their products. Another problem that Cyberdog could potentially face is that although they have a reasonably good online presence, their competitors are in a stronger position when it comes to online shopping, whereas Cyberdog focuses more on instore purchases. Since there are only a few stores around England they are not reaching such a mass of people, although in a way this makes them more appealing to their customer base as a lot of their customers want to buy into the exclusivity of the band.  The brand however is still doing exceptionally well due to their modern marketing tactics as well as the environment of their stores and their name, people tend to be more willing to buy into the brand name and spend a bit more money than they normally would.  

The brand targets a very specific customer base, their focus on rave and club wear caters to a smaller customer base then most other brands. This both helps and hinders the shop, as they could potentially lose out on a big percentage of customers. Nevertheless, they have developed a large, loyal customer base that want to buy into Cyberdog’s image; something that can’t be accessed as easily on mainstream high street shops. The brand name also has a big part to play as customers like wearing and displaying Cyberdog’s brand. Their main customer would be a younger consumer market due to not only the fashion and what its intended for but the shop and brand environment is targeted to those who enjoy the club and rave setting - the Camden store is set with UV lights as well as strobe lights and rave music plays though out the shop. The environment sets a brilliant stage for the customer and sells them not only the fashion but the experience that will come with buying their clothing. All of this suggested an aim at a typically younger consumer.

However, the higher prices of the shop in comparison to high street shops that also cater to this kind of age range could potentially alienate some customers, though the shop does sell a large quantity of other accessories and merchandise from makeup and face paint to jewellery and soap. These products most likely accumulate a lot of the company’s profits as a lot of people would potentially shop in Cyberdog for the experience and would be more likely just pick up a cheaper product rather the spending a lot of money on a t-shirt.

In 2012 Cyberdog launched a shop called ‘Future Lovers’, a sex shop that is currently up and running on the basement level of their Camden store. Future Lovers gives Cyberdog an edge helping them stand out from more common brands even further. Future Lovers helps Cyberdog to promote the image of an exclusive niche brand.

Cyberdog sets itself apart from other brands by taking their concept – rave and club culture - to new levels, going the extra mile. They have used their fashion concept to inspire an incredible brand image and creates stores that are built to make the environment the clothes were meant for. The 90s gave way to a big revolution in the way of underground raves and parties, where clubbing and disco were more common though the 70’s and 80’s, the early 90’s was where rave culture really blew up and underground parties and raves were becoming incredibly more common. The colours, lights, electronic music and environment were blatant inspiration to Cyberdog throughout their start up and their current fashion. Cyberdog’s launch in the 90’s meant there were selling to a growing customer base and were seen as a new modern, niche brand.

One of Cyberdog’s strong suits is their understanding of modern day marketing, they use social media as a big part of their advertisement. Although their brand is not as well advertised as some mainstream high street brands in the way of TV advertisement and so forth, they have a very good social media platform on which they get out news of their products and events. Their main customer base, being a younger generation makes social media the best and most efficient way of promoting their brand amongst their consumers.

Cyberdog has created a successful alternative brand, that incorporates there style and image in their fashion, produce and stores, and have used their uniquid and bold identity to establish a foothold in the alternative fashion market, using social media as a forefront for their marketing they have effectively aimed there brand at a specifically younger consumer market which has resulted in a loyal customer base and has help massively in establishing such a successful  brand in just over 20 years. over the course of this time they have managed to open several other stores across the UK as well as in Ibiza. The carefully picked location of their stores has added to the brands success, picking the locations were the majorities of their target market would shop, and were they would have the most success selling. Over the last 23 years; through their original marketing tactics and innovative concept for their shops and fashion Cyberdog have developed in to a well-known brand among the alternative fashion community.    

[boozedancing]

AK: Hey, G-LO, you’re an experimental sort, ain’t ya?

G-LO: Depends on the subject. Sometimes I’m a creature of habit. Sometimes I like to get jiggy with it.

AK: OK, Mr. Jiggy, we’re gonna go where many have never gone.

G-LO: Ohhhh! The final frontier? One of those new planets?

AK: Very close, Captain Jiggy. We are going to the future… Sort of.

G-LO: Do we need roads? Maps? Binoculars?

AK: Only glasses, Mi Amigo. Glencairn glasses, which are better than roads. No tolls or potholes.

G-LO: Beautiful! Sign me up! So where we going?

AK: Well, it’s the future in a very interesting way. Wouldn’t it be great if you went to work on Monday morning and when you got there, it was Friday?

G-LO: That would be spectacular! And a bit disorienting.

AK: Nah!  You’re tough. Well, let’s bring this back to something that we love way more than work. Whisky!

G-LO: Ahhhh! Now we’re speaking in similar tongues. What are we drinking?

AK: Remember our friends at Lost Spirits? Well, we’re going to dive into the “future” with their new Abomination whisky.

G-LO: Hey now! If anyone’s an abomination around here, it’s you, Pal!

AK: Guilty as charged. But this is a far better evil creation since it’s our favorite beverage. Remember we’re going to the future. And our friends Bryan and Joanne have got something really cooked up here.

G-LO: Bryan Davis is the Voodoo High Priest of all things beautiful and distilled! Is this one of those rapid aging things he does?

AK: Indeed it is. Abomination is the first whisky he’s made using his rapid-aging technology gizmo, THEA. Throw the spirit in and – BOOM! – a few hours later you have Abomination that’s supposed to be aged like it’s been in a barrel for years! The future is now! Nutty, huh? The spirit goes to work on Monday and the next thing it knows, it’s Friday Friday, Gotta get down on Friday, Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend, weekend!

G-LO: Insanity, Rebecca! And if it’s as good as that Santeria Rum we had, then we’re gonna have some good old fashioned whisky fun tonight!

AK: Yep! Abomination is the name of the whisky line though the label says “malt”. It’s whisky in my book. But I’m not much of a reader.

G-LO: I’m with ya. If it looks like whisky, and it tastes like whisky, then it’s whisky in my book too! Though I guess there are a few regulatory bodies that would say otherwise. Screw those guys!

AK: I’m anti-The Man so I’m right there with you! Now aside from the fast aging science-y stuff. These first batches from Lost Spirits have another interesting quirk: The spirit comes from an undisclosed distillery… in Scotland…on…Islay! No clue which distillery supplied the spirit, but we can narrow it down to eight guesses. We know all about Undisclosed distilleries, don’t we?

G-LO: The plot thickens! So we’ve got new make Islay spirit that travels all the way to Cali, then goes through some monolithic rapid aging machine and then comes out looking like a very mature looking Islay whisky. That’s a helluva concept! It’s practically Weird Science! Cue the Thomas Dolby!

AK: You’ve blinded me with whisky! But there’s more…

G-LO: Do tell, Maestro! I’m all ears.

AK: That malt is heavy peated. Now you can say BOOM!

G-LO: BOOM!

AK: Well said. There are two expressions of The Abomination. Let’s dig into the first one, uniquely named “The Crying of the Puma”.

G-LO: And all this time I thought only doves cried. Pouring. (glug glug glug…)

AK: Doves really cry on The Island of Dr. Moreau, and that’s where the name of the expression came from. Apparently Mr. Davis is a fanboy of that classic book and he’s naming the whiskies in the Abomination line after chapters in the book.

G-LO: Fascinating! Never read the book. Never saw the original movie. Never saw the remake. Never saw Cats either.

AK: Let’s just say, you’d make a great Panda/St. Bernard. Care to put that schnoz to work?

G-LO: Certainly! We’re not gonna talk about the appearance. Cause then we’ll get all sad when we dare speak her name. Again.

AK: Correct. No names! I love inside blogger references, by the way.

G-LO: It sure does smell like whisky!

AK: Indeed it does. And whiffy of peaty. Licorice and a bit maritime-y. Dirty old leather. The smell, not you.

G-LO: Absolutely! But not overpoweringly so. It’s subtly peaty.

AK: Smoked leather! There’s a bite in that aroma.

G-LO: Gingerbread cookies! Getting some baked apple and cinnamon too.

AK: No thanks, I had dessert. Oh, the smell! Yes, I get that too. I love the color. I want shoes that rich color.

G-LO: I own shoes this color. The whisky is cheaper.

AK: Big spender.

G-LO: Well, when you only buy shoes every 5 years, ya gotta make sure they’re gonna last!

AK: You’re a pro’s pro. Very economical!

G-LO: You get what you pay for. Your label says they “aged” this using toasted riesling staves. Getting some raisins too.

AK: According to Bryan, the “Puma” uses toasted staves from the riesling barrel made of American oak.

G-LO: I love toast! Rye. Extra butter. Now I smell caraway seeds.

AK: Hey, me too! Lost Spirits buys specific ends of staves from a undisclosed cooperage. They are cut into neat little squarish things that get put into the magic aging machine. Let’s call them Stave Ends or Stave Cubes. The staves are from the same wood recipe so there’s consistency in the batch. Who knew you could buy that?! The barrel maker normally throws away the ends after they’re cut off to make the staves the right length.

G-LO: I’ll buy almost anything if the price is right! How do you know this, Mr. Wizard?

AK: Funny you should ask, Funny Man. The Rocket Scientist wife and I got a behind-the-scenes tour of the new Lost Spirits distillery in the Arts District of Los Angeles. The public opening is coming soon. Fascinating place! Like no distillery I’ve ever been to.

G-LO: No doubt! Bryan is a mad man in a very awesomely spectacular way! Thanks to you, I’ve been able to try mucho from Lost Spirits. Shall we taste?

AK: Uh, I might have already. So, sure!

G-LO: Mmmmmm….

AK: Oh, by the way…it’s 54%. Easy there, fella.

G-LO: Lightly oily and surprisingly smooth for 54% ABV! I really hate the “smooth” expression when talking about whisky, but it applies here. It’s like liquid silk.

AK: Wow. Rich and oily. And sweet!

G-LO: But not too sweet! And there’s peat. But not too much peat. Balanced? Absolutely!

AK: I get way more of the peat on the nose now. It’s about 45 ppm but your mileage may vary.  I love the young, peated whiskies. Call me nuts but sweet and smokey is right in my wheelhouse.

G-LO: WOW! This stuff coats your mouth with flavor. It’s quite dry too.

AK: There’s a flavor there that I can’t place…

G-LO: Give me a hint.

AK: Uh, bigger than a bread box but smaller than Louie Anderson. Maybe cinnamon. Maybe barbecue sauce.

G-LO: Hmmm. Cardamom? NUTMEG!

AK: Definitely Cardamom, Mon.

G-LO: Maybe some candied ginger too. This is dangerous. I can drink the entire sample in one sitting.

AK: What’s interesting is that it has that Lost Spirits “funk” that was so omnipresent in the whiskies they made and barrel aged, pre-THEA. How is that possible?

G-LO: Totally agree! Like in Ouroboros or those crazy Navy Rums.

AK: The spirit is from Islay and the aging is from a machine. I no get. But the funk is there. (Scratches head. Drinks more.)

G-LO: It’s an awesome funk! Like Super Funkadelic Funkity Funk Funk!

AK: I like the finish. Think this thing is getting peatier for me. It Ard-begs for another pour.

G-LO: The finish lingers for a looooooong time!

AK: Crazy long actually.

G-LO: Geez. We’re gonna need an intermission before Act 2. Got water in the Southland?

AK: We do now. #AlmostDroughtFree. It is really easy drinking, isn’t it? I gotta tell you, that new space Lost Spirits has carved out is crazy. I need to go back after they officially open.

G-LO: I may need to fly out again for a visit! And yes. SUPER easy drinking!

AK: It’s a wacky combination of the Jungle Cruise and Pirates of the Caribbean rides.

G-LO: Well that sounds fun! They make Tiki drinks?

AK: Apparently Bryan designed amusement parks in a former life. And the new Lost Spirits home is another wacky creation of his with amusement park-ness minus the churros.

G-LO: Really? He gets crazier by the minute. Love it!

AK: No tiki drinks yet but there’s a rum bar that is something right out of Polynesia…

G-LO: Polynesia! They serve Pupu platters?

AK: No pupu, Papa. Then you take a few steps up to wooden landing that’s in a jungle and you get on a boat… Did I mention that we’re in an old warehouse with no windows?

G-LO: Ummm. I’m in my family room. How much have you been drinking? Though if you’re alone in a family room, is it really a family room?

AK: Sometimes I wonder myself. Seriously, you step off the landing that is in this indoor jungle and get on a boat. Think: raft from Adventureland to Tom Sawyer’s Island at Disneyland without the little kid who is about to fall overboard because his parents are too busy inventorying all the pins they’ve bought in the last three days.  But I digress.  The Lost Spirits boat is on a “river” of water. Did I mention that this place is in a warehouse?  Am I making any sense?

G-LO: You did, Rabbit. You did.  And, no, you’re not.

AK: …and then Bryan captains the boat “upriver”. This boat can easily fit 10 people. The water in the river is used in for the condenser for the stills when they start distilling there.

G-LO: Madness abounds in the land of Lost Spirits! Definitely sounds like my kind of Magic Kingdom. But does he have a DiVine?

AK: BoozeLand! Once you get up river and disembark, you’re at the mash tun. Then you walk a circuitous route through the jungle by the fermenting tanks and right up to the stills that look like dragons. Bryan likes dragons.

G-LO: That sounds wild! Very Game of Thrones.

AK: Then you walk through two big doors that were probably stolen from a castle and you are in THEAland, or as Bryan calls it, “our barrelhouse”. But of course, there are no barrels because HE DOESN’T NEED ANY!

G-LO: So right from THEA to the bottling line?

AK: Right! Now after you check out the THEA reactors which are the about the size of Coke machine you head back from whence you came and it’s back to the boat. Cuz you have to go back downstream, right?

G-LO: You know, now I’m thinking Apocalypse Now. The Horror. The Horror. Did you find Kurtz?

AK: I heard shrieks but didn’t investigate. I forgot my machete. There’s another stop along the way: The Whisky Room. This room faces out to the jungle and the decor is early Captain Jack with feng shui courtesy of The Addams Family.  There’s a long dark wood table surrounded on three sides with antique looking furniture. Bryan says this is where he’ll do tasting events. But this is a techie jungle Whisky Room; we need more of these, by the way.  A huge screen comes down from the jungle sky and Bryan leads us through a fascinating presentation on the science of whisky and flavor. Bring a periodic table if you come out. You’ll need it. The Rocket Scientist followed along easily. I just wanted another shot of Abomination.

G-LO: Captain Jack may not get you high tonight, but he might get you drunk! I want more Abomination too!

AK: Let’s jump into the other expression, “The Sayers of the Law”.

G-LO: Let’s! Similar color. Don’t say her name!

AK: She will remain unspoken. Now when I got these bottles, being the idiot I am, I couldn’t figure out the difference. The labeling is exactly the same except one is black and one is red. Pinhead me didn’t see the expression name vertically off to the side. Luckily, Bryan pointed out the names and the differences.

G-LO: So they’re both aged with riesling staves, but one set of staves is toasted while the other is charred.

AK: Correct, Professor! Same heavily peated Islay malt. Different stave cubes used in the reactor.  Less peat on the nose for the “Sayers”.

G-LO: More vapory though for whatever reason. I love it when distillers play around like this, i.e. messing with one component to get different results.

AK: Yep. Fascinating how things are so different. Definitely more vapory.

G-LO: I know I’ve said this before, but I want Chip Tate and Bryan Davis to make something together. And to get even nuttier, let’s throw Dr. Bill into the mix!

AK: The Evil Doctors of Whisky!

G-LO: Totally! Lords of the Spirit World!

AK: I’m getting a little cumin.

G-LO: This doesn’t smell as sweet.

AK: Nope. Not a whole lot of aroma.

G-LO: Getting some fennel and peat.

AK: I might drop a bit of water in on a second go with this one.

G-LO: Just caught a note I can’t place. Mesquite perhaps? Like in Brimstone. Burnt sugar too. Like when you leave BBQ sauce coated chicken on the grill to long.

AK: Hmmm. I’m not getting much of anything. Definitely no smoke. But, again, you’re a pro.

G-LO: Nah. I’m using my imagination.

AK: You’ll do well in college. Shall we partake?

G-LO: Or maybe I’m just hungry? Partaking…

AK: Mmmm..food. Love that deep rich….color.

G-LO: Scarlett! Not that other vixen. Once again, it’s lightly oily. A bit hotter though.

AK: Yep. Bit hotter but still 54%. Oddly less smokey to me.

G-LO: Yep. Still totally drinkable sans agua. There’s a little bitterness in the finish. Not bad bitter. More like Fernet bitter.

AK: I get that bitterness too. Second taste is much sweeter. Not nearly as much as the “Puma”. More astringent. Cloves, burned cloves actually.

G-LO: I’m getting that too! I think I like the Puma a bit better. This is still quite good, but not as well balanced as the Puma.

AK: The smell is different now. I’m getting the “funk” now.

G-LO: George Clinton! Or is this more Bootsy Collins?

AK: I agree, P-Funk. Puma feels more complete.

G-LO: Yep. Though to tell you the truth, the second taste was better than the first.

AK: I’m going to get a bit Bill Nye-y here and add a bit of that two hydrogen atoms/one oxygen atom combo and see what happens.

G-LO: It improves as you drink more of it. Or maybe I’m just getting tipsy? Then again, how can you tell the difference? This is me we’re talking about after all.

AK: Always talking about you. So narcissistic.

G-LO: What’s your point?

AK: Wow. Way more licorice on the nose with the added water. Maybe even those elegant band-aid notes too.

G-LO: Band Aid brand or Curad?

AK: I’m a generic shopper. More CVS brand than Target.  Smells “hotter” too. This thing changed with water. And wayyyy more sweeter. Different dram all together.

G-LO: Opens it up a bit?

AK: More than a bit.

G-LO: Releases the oils perhaps?

AK: Chewier too which doesn’t make sense either.

G-LO: Kinda like when you splash water on your face after the Hai Karate dissipates. Brings the aromas back to the surface.

AK: That’ll get you all the hot babes!

G-LO: I’m getting some sweetness now in the nose.

AK: Did you add agua, Mi Amigo?

G-LO: Si! With my handy dandy Jewbilee dropper.

AK: Fancy!

G-LO: That’s Mr. Fancy to you, Buckaroo! Definitely hotter tasting too! Like a chile pepper and cinnamon red hot. Though not overwhelming.

AK: Speaking of Jewbilee, Bryan told me that a certain Jewbilee organizer told him that Abomination tasted like it could have been a 15 year old whisky. He was only off by… 15 years.

G-LO: The Scot or the Other Guy?

AK: No comment. Wait, there’s two guys?

G-LO: Maybe the other Other Guy???

AK: There’s always an other guy.

G-LO: Do we need another guy?

AK: Guys we got. We need gals! I can defiantly say that these are not young tasting. And I guess that’s the whole point, isn’t it?

G-LO: Agreed! Kinda have a Bowmore Devil’s Cask vibe.  Could it be Bowmore spirit?

AK: Ooh, interesting comparison!  I was thinking Caol Ila but who the heck knows and Bryan won’t say. Still like Puma more than Sayers, but Sayers got better with water.  Bryan says that the LA spot will be a rum distillery initially.  Right now, any distilling going on is happening up at their original location in Salinas, CA.  LA won’t be operational for distilling until the federal permits come through.  You know how the government is?  But when they get the official go-ahead, it’s full speed ahead up and down their river.

G-LO: Oh, don’t tell me about the governmental pencil-pushers!  I absolutely concur on the Sayer with water! Puma has a better balance. More nuanced. Ain’t I fancy?

AK: You know all the big words.

G-LO: Not big, but definitely fancy. Sounds French. I can go for a baguette or a croissant. But not a croissandwich. THAT’s a real abomination.

AK: Sayers might be really good for cocktails. I like that you like food.

G-LO: Thanks! You’re cute too, Doc.

AK: Evil Abomination combinations, which is really hard to say.

G-LO: Tongue twister! Next you’re gonna ask me to make like Audrey Horne and knot a Maraschino cherry stem.

AK: You’re my kind of date! Care to guess on the name of the next expression? Pick one of these…

I. IN THE DINGEY OF THE “LADY VAIN”

II. THE MAN WHO WAS GOING NOWHERE

III. THE STRANGE FACE

IV. AT THE SCHOONER’S RAIL

V. THE MAN WHO HAD NOWHERE TO GO

VI. THE EVIL-LOOKING BOATMEN

VII. THE LOCKED DOOR

VIII. THE CRYING OF THE PUMA

IX. THE THING IN THE FOREST

X. THE CRYING OF THE MAN

XI. THE HUNTING OF THE MAN

XII. THE SAYERS OF THE LAW

XIII. THE PARLEY

XIV. DOCTOR MOREAU EXPLAINS

XV. CONCERNING THE BEAST FOLK

XVI. HOW THE BEAST FOLK TASTE BLOOD

XVII. A CATASTROPHE

XVIII. THE FINDING OF MOREAU

XIX. MONTGOMERY’S BANK HOLIDAY

XX. ALONE WITH THE BEAST FOLK

XXI. THE REVERSION OF THE BEAST FOLK

XXII. THE MAN ALONE

G-LO: Geez… Insanity abounds!

AK: I want Abomination “A Catastrophe”!

G-LO: I really like “Catastrophe” on Amazon Prime. Sharon Horgan is brilliant!

  AK: Brilliant show! A good drinking show! Rob Delaney is hilarious. The final frontier for Carrie Fisher too.

G-LO: Oops. For a second there I thought this was a pop culture podcast.

AK: It’s not?

G-LO: It is? IT IS! If we want it to be.

AK: I’m very confused. Isn’t this Bill Simmons’ podcast? Boy, did I make a wrong turn at iTunes.

G-LO: The shortest distance between two points is a straight line.

AK: In the opposite direction. A flute with no holes is not a flute. A donut with no hole is a Danish.

G-LO: Truth.

AK: Na-Na-Na-Na-Na….

  G-LO: Parting thoughts? Word association! Bryan Davis?

AK: Nuts/Creative! Puma?

G-LO: Delicious! Balanced! THEA?

AK: Futuristic. Sayers?

G-LO: Restrained.

AK: Better with water.

G-LO: Agreed

AK: Lost Spirits?

G-LO: Genius!

AK: That will be $90. Should we bill your insurance company?

G-LO: Yes. I got the good plan. IBX Personal Choice. No referrals. Add on an MRI and a colonoscopy while you’re at it.

AK: I like a bonus procedure!  I like the Abominations too. And it’s hard not to like the inventiveness of Lost Spirits and the playground that’s their new home in Los Angeles.  Get off your butt and come out here so we can get lost in the indoor jungle only to survive on rum and whisky!  That’s my kind of episode of Lost and you won’t be disappointed after Season 2.

Tangents abound in @AaronMKrouse + G-LO's "review" of @LostSpirits1 Abomination. #whisky #popculture AK: Hey, G-LO, you're an experimental sort, ain't ya? G-LO: Depends on the subject. Sometimes I'm a creature of habit.