#to my other favorite w.w

[skenpiel]

im watching breaking bad n im on the last season but like. theres no way gale WASNT in love with walter right. like thats not just me that was a Thing wasnt it

[energysoda]

Breaking Bad Theory: How Walt Could've Gotten Away With It by Pretending to be Gay (Spoilers for the Entire Show)

Okay this has been on my mind for AWHILE. Since I was still watching season 5. Walter White could have potentially convinced (or at least given an alibi to) Hank that he wasn't Heisenberg by saying that he liked men. Particularly, Gale.

So, to set up the scene in Season 5 where Hank finds the Walt Whitman book and then connects all the dots to Walter. Walt goes and confronts him about the missing book, and Hank admits he figured out Walt is Heisenberg. Instead of going with it, Walt could have said this story:

He was bi. Or at least bicurious. Gale was one of his lovers. His whole life he had pushed down his attraction to men, but the cancer gave him a crisis because he believed that it was the end for him. So, thinking he was going to die soon, he started experimenting with this attraction with men. His whole "fugue state" was just another part of that crisis, he spent that time out of town talking to various different guys. Trying to figure himself out. This was always his reason for the two phones. And maybe he met Gale during his fugue state, or maybe it was a bit later. But either way, Walt could say they ended up getting involved.

He had absolutely no idea that Gale was involved in the meth business. He thought he was just a failed potential mind for science like himself. So when he found out that Gale was dead, and that they found those lab notes basically confessing to the crime-- he was shocked. It was hard to believe. He didn't say anything because he was ashamed of being gay. He was scared that Gale could have been shot as a hate crime, as well as if he told the truth that Hank would be homophobic to him: something he just couldn't handle since he was already experiencing so much in his life. He already lost a lover, he didn't want to lose his family too. Plus, it is already known that Walt has a huge ego and is extremely prideful, he could play into that if he thought to.

And the best part is, this would make a lot of sense. It would explain the fugue state, the second phone, his issues with Skyler-- Walt's weird behavior in general. Hank already thought he was having an affair, so why not go ahead and confirm it but with a twist Hank couldn't have expected? The time that Walt got drunk after Gale died could be explained as him grieving, and his saying that he didn't think Gale was Heisenberg could be explained off as denial that his lover could be the mastermind behind the Heisenberg case.

And Gale isn't exactly the text book example of a heterosexual man. Nah, he's gay as hell honestly. And that little note in his notes about W.W. being his shining star and perfect silence, could definitely be interpreted as a love note. And hey, the notes already had random stuff like doodles and brownie recipes so why not add other unrelated stuff like love notes in it?

His gift of the Walt Whitman book to Walter could also help support this. Walt Whitman was speculated to be homosexual or bisexual, particularly because of his poetry. Walter could totally explain the gift as a symbol of their relationship, especially with the note "to my other favorite W.W."

Anyways thank you for coming to my ted talk, I guess it was never meant to be though since Walter White's stupid ass pride would never allow him to go with this. But it's interesting how well it would have worked, and honestly I do think Gale did have some sort of feelings for him. Tbh. Because that Walt Whitman thing and the love note and just Gale being Gale in general is very compelling evidence to me.

But yeah, I guess this is just another example of how if Walter's ego and pride got in the way, and how he could have made a lot smarter moves and would have been able to keep himself going if he wasn't so stupid about that pride. Another example of how ego destroys intelligence.

[ur-fav-sugardaddy-situation]

Wallace it’s me Stacey!

other you told me to come protect you from yandere todd as he’s on a trip and is unable to do it himself. Has he come by yet at all? I’m prepared to fight him >:]

Hey Stacey-

I appreciate the concern because this whole thing is really strange-

As of now, I can’t even give you a full answer on if he’s been by or not- That Vegan Lunatic has some powers that I don’t really know yet-

I know he can teleport but so far I haven’t seen him

I have been getting some creepy asks for someone I suspect could be him. But other than a suspicion, I’ve got nothing.

Just don’t get yourself hurt for my sake, you are my favorite out of the Pilgrims after all

-W.W.

[junipuzzle]

Sunday, February 11, 2024

"Bright Ideas" by Peter Koetters

Time: 25:20

Theme: ★★★ Cluing: ★★ Fill: ★

Lookups:

23A: Traditional Indonesian percussion orchestra (7)

30A: Sportscaster Hershiser (4)

39A: Place for poissons (3) look, idk my french

63A: Table scraps (4)

9D: Poet Federico Garcia _____ (5)

22D: Director Walsh of old Hollywood (5)

52D: Designer Miller (6)

108D: Hideki ____, W.W. II prime minister (4)

Favorite Clues:

77D: You can trip on it in the desert (6)

Really didn't like this one!

First thing first - I got a bone to pick with 100A: "One with two years to go, informally" is the clue for SOPH, short for sophomore. Am I crazy in thinking that this is outright wrong? A sophomore is someone in their second year - they still have three years to go, counting the one they're in.

The theme was fine in concept - the birthday of Thomas Alva Edison celebrated with a light bulb shape and seven of "his" inventions (I know the man was a labor thief and stole patents from his workers - dunno if all of these are actually his and do not have the time to look it up, but I will be doubting so until shown otherwise), and the theme entries were interesting enough, but the rest of the puzzle was just awful as a result of the light bulb cutting off open space.

For example, the middle row with REPINE / NODULAR /ERENOW were all pretty rough entries with unhelpful clues. ERE NOW was the only one I got without significant crosses, and that's because we see ERE all the time as crosswordese. NODULAR is another word that has come up recently (don't remember if it was part of a normal puzzle or an archive i did on my commute) but I wouldn't have known otherwise, and while I'm all for learning new vocab, REPINE doesn't seem like the best place to do it when there's so much other stuff I have to look up already.

Speaking of looking up... there were way too many proper nouns in this puzzle, and certainly too many of them crossing each other. The restrictions from the light bulb shape really necessitated some undercooked entries and I was not having a good time. I understand that I don't have to know every person in a puzzle and that constructors cater to different demographics, but this was a bridge too far.

The lack of interesting clues outside of the theme entries hurt the puzzle as well. There were very few tricky clues or difficult twists, just a lot of know-it-or-you-dont trivia, which a good puzzle does not make. I came back to post my thoughts on this a day later simply because I could remember so viscerally my frustration and disappointment with the puzzle. Hope next week's is better.

Answers to noted clues:

23A: Traditional Indonesian percussion orchestra (7)

30A: OREL

39A: MER

63A: ORTS

9D: LORCA

22D: RAOUL

52D: NICOLE

108D: TOJO

77D: PEYOTE

[berattelse]

Death avoidance is not an individual failing: it's a cultural one. Facing death is not for the faint-hearted. It is far too challenging to expect that each citizen will do so on his or her own. Death acceptance is the responsibility of all death professionals -- funeral directors, cemetery managers, hospital workers. It is the responsibility of those who have been tasked with creating physical and emotional environments where safe, open interaction with death and dead bodies is possible. Nine years ago, when I began working with the dead, I heard other practitioners speak about holding the space for the dying person and their family. With my secular bias, "holding the space" sounded like saccharine hippie lingo. This judgment was wrong. Holding the space is crucial, and exactly what we are missing. to hold the space is to create a ring of safety around the family and friends of the dead, providing a place where they can grieve openly and honestly, without fear of being judged. [...] My mother recently turned seventy. One afternoon, as an exercise, I envisioned taking my mother's mummified body out of the grave, as they do in Tana Toraja in Indonesia. Pulling her remains toward me, standing her up, looking her in the eyes years after her death -- the thought no longer alarmed me. Not only could I handle such a task, I believe I would find solace in the ritual. Holding the space doesn't mean swaddling the family immobile in their grief. It also means giving them meaningful tasks. Using chopsticks to methodically clutch bone after bone and place them in an urn, building an altar to invite a spirit to visit once a year, even taking a body from the grave to clean and redress it: these activities give the mourner a sense of purpose. A sense of purpose helps the mourner grieve. Grieving helps the mourner begin to heal. We won't get our ritual back if we don't show up. Show up first, and the ritual will come. Insist on going to the cremation, insist on going to the burial. Insist on being involved, even if it is just brushing your mother's hair as she lies in her casket. Insist on applying her favorite shade of lipstick, the one she wouldn't dream of going to the grave without. Insist on cutting a small lock of her hair to place in a locket or a ring. Do not be afraid. These are human acts, acts of bravery and love in the face of death and loss. I would be comfortable with my mother's dead body precisely because I would be held. The ritual doesn't involve sneaking into a cemetery in the dead of night to peek in on a mummy. The ritual involves pulling someone I loved, and thus my grief, into the light of day. Greeting my mother, alongside my neighbors and family -- my community standing next to me in support. sunlight is the best disinfectant, they say. No matter what it takes, the hard work begins for the West to haul our fear, shame, and grief surrounding death out into the disinfecting light of the sun.

Doughty, Caitlin. Epilogue to From Here to Eternity: Traveling the World to Find the Good Death. W.W. Norton & Company, 2017.

[royalbuffoons]

Gale Boetticher gay?

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter seventeen - “wouldn’t dream of it”

delicate masterlist

word count: 4.7k

synopsis: reader has a strange dream that ends up bringing on a cascade of various events and feelings.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

A/N: feel free to drop any opinions/thoughts/predictions below (or in my asks if u wanna be anonymous!!)

She would have woken up from a night's sleep saturated with regret... if she had slept a wink. She spent the night tossing and turning, and at about five in the morning, the pursuit of rest was abandoned.

Forcefully and exasperatedly, she sat straight up, glaring at the clock and letting the blanket pool around her waist. Y/N had her weekly meeting with Shuri at nine o'clock... that meant four hours to kill. More like four more hours of trudging through thoughts, memories, questions, and fears surrounding the previous day. Four more hours of ruminating over Bucky Barnes. This seemed to become a reoccurring activity her life.

She stared at the wall, thinking about how before, there was at least the excuse of being drunk: maybe not completely knowing what she was doing, maybe not remembering something correctly. But they were sober this time... she was sober. And what struck her was that, when it happened, when he kissed her, there was no moment of initial startle. There was no surprise jerk back or woah-what-are-you-doing response. Their bodies just fell into form. She just fell into form. Like it was an instinct. Like they were both used to it, and had done it a number of times before.

She wasn't sure what shocked her more: the fact that he kissed her or the fact that she kissed him back. Was he being bold? Or did she lead him on? Had she been leading him on? He wouldn't have done it on his own account, right? She had a degree of difficulty in believing she was wanted. Truly.

She could've sworn that she wasn't this emotionally invested. She could've sworn that if she couldn't control what she was feeling, she could at least control what she was doing. She rubbed her eyes, wondering where she went so wrong. It probably happened at some point during the isolated time she had been spending with Bucky in a secret corner of the world, not minding the least bit that she had been away from home and work for months whilst working on a project hardly anyone else was even aware of.

Even with all this in mind, she didn't seem to care. She didn't really mind that she hadn't been home in ages, it didn't really bother her that she might be in trouble when she gets back for helping enemy of the state Sharon Carter, runaway fugitive Steve Rogers, or war criminal James Buchanan Barnes. Because every time she thought about the consequences, it just didn't seem to matter more than what was keeping her in Wakanda... Besides, she guessed Bucky would probably be pardoned and after everything settled down, who would pay any attention to her? It's not like she mattered in the grand scheme.

As soon as that very thought arose, she could hear Bucky's voice scolding her in the back of her head. Why was he always there?

Frustrated, she groaned into the air in front of her. Her feelings were so confusing, she wasn't even sure what exactly it was she felt towards Bucky. On one hand, she felt fiercely protective over him: she'd go down fighting before she'd let anyone lay a hand on him, prepared to stay in his corner forever, ready on defense.

But at the same time, she felt this ineffable sense of warmth for him. Like one look at the way his eyes crinkle when he smiled, and she'd turn soft as water. Like being in his vicinity smoothed out the rough around her edges.

And if all this wasn't enough, now she had been touched by him, she had felt his lips and the gentleness in his skin. This brought a cascade of new feelings, ones she knew she had to hide. It... was definitely a problem. She knew, don't get her wrong, she knew it was a problem. As much as she understood this irrefutable fact, the numbness in her lips just wouldn't go away. He had remained with her even hours later. She couldn't get rid of his heartbeat; it was still in her hand. She could still feel him.

Basically, she knew this most recent development was an issue. She knew it was bad, wrong, worrisome, and whatever else. And knowing this, recognizing the very hot water she was in, the only thing she could focus on was trying to ignore the recurrent desire to be near him, to find him and be close to him.

"Fuck."

She plopped back down on her back and elected to cast a burning glare at the ceiling until she had to get ready for her meeting.

—

"I think it might be too hot for this," she complained with a smile on her face.

"It was your idea," he said, a few steps ahead of her, "and we're almost there, so buck up."

She laughed. He smiled at the sound.

"What?" he asked.

"You said buck up. Like Buck... Bucky. Like you."

He just looked at her, amused. Sun kissed and happy.

"It's fitting," she shrugged, grinning.

"Guess so. Hurry up, slow poke. You're gonna fall behind."

"I'm already behind," she huffed . "Your super soldier legs are too fast for me."

"Well," he stopped short and she finally caught up, standing right beside him, "we're here. So worry not."

He looked over at her to find her already looking at him. Funny how their eyes always found each other like that.

"What?" he asked again, not able to help how the corners of his mouth turned up just slightly.

"Nothin.’ Everything," she shrugged. "You."

Perhaps she just liked looking at him. Him and his long hair and light eyes. Was that such a crime? His skin looked caramelized under the sun. She wanted to reach out and touch him.

"You're a real peach, y'know that?" he smirked.

She looked away, pretending to find the grass around them spectacularly interesting while hiding a dopey smile at his compliment.

"Hey, doll face. I'm a lot more fun than the grass, I swear," he teased. "Lemme see my favorite face."

"Hold on." She got an idea.

She reached down beside her and plucked a flower from the soil.

"A little hibiscus," she smiled, tucking the small flower behind his ear. God, he was just so pretty.

She stood back, satisfied with her decor. She sighed, content. How couldn't she be? She was looking at two of the most beautiful things. Flowers and Bucky.

As soon as it was securely in place, Bucky bent down to pick the hibiscus that sat right next to the one Y/N chose. Mirroring her actions, he placed it behind her ear.

"A little hibiscus," he repeated fondly, "for a real peach!"

She didn't dare try to hide the next dopey grin while taking in the sight before her, of Bucky beaming in the sunlight with a flower in his hair. Looking at this, she understood why mankind began to paint. Why there needed to be someway to capture something as precious as this, some method of preserving something so idyllic and beautiful and pure and perfect.

Perfect like the cool, fresh water of the lake. Their lake. Their place. The flowing, breathing water she felt around her waist. They floated around, her and Bucky, as light as air in that lake.

The two were weightless, adoration suspended in animation. The water preserved the feeling of feather light kisses and chests pressed together and hands beginning to roam. If only she could be closer to him. Her fingers in his hair and his palms on either side of her face wasn't enough. She needed more. More, more, more of him.

Skin is so soft and the sun is so warm and soon enough, the water was up to her shoulders as his arms ran up her back. Arms plural, she noticed. He held her with both, protectively enclosing the longing feeling between them.

"Oh, fucking hell!" Y/N sprang up, throwing the blanket off of her.

She must've fallen asleep... and began to dream... She could imagine if her brain was a person, it'd be laughing at her for that.

Why? Why? What was the reason for this? There was no point! How frustrating! How embarrassing that her mind betrayed her with dreams of him.

"God damn it," she swore under her breath.

She wanted to angrily shake her fist in the air like vengeful cartoon character, as she got out of bed and headed towards her wardrobe.

It was 8 a.m. One hour until her meeting with Shuri. She would spend the time changing her outfit until it was distracting enough to draw her attention away from thoughts of that damn lake... and his damn hands...

—

"My friend!" Shuri greeted in her usual upbeat manner. "How are you? How are things?"

There was absolutely no way to answer this honestly.

"I'm doin' well. Same old, same old. How 'bout you?"

"Good as always," she smiled. "Thank you."

Y/N took a seat at one of the tables in Shuri's lab. "So how is T'Challa doing with Nakia?"

"Oh, who knows these days! He is so awkward, I have no idea!"

They both laughed. Y/N was glad she and Shuri were able to talk like this. They weren't just robotic colleagues who only communicated when they needed to. They were partners, and they worked well together.

The meeting commenced like it did every other week. Updates on Bucky's progress, new ideas or adjustments to treatment or planning, going over scans or data, you name it. But this time, she had something else in mind. Something that a dream reminded her of. She had mentioned maybe getting her hands on a prosthetic for Bucky. She wasn’t familiar with the prosthetics industry in Wakanda, but they could probably make something work.

Was that too much? Did she care too much? Was she showing too much regard for him? Was this too much to ask of her?

"Hey, remember a couple weeks ago when I talked about prosthetics?"

"Of course," Shuri smiled. She genuinely enjoyed her partner - her partner who was intelligent, confident, and articulate but still sometimes sounded shy. "You wanna see what I've been working on?"

"You... you ordered one? I didn't-"

"Oh, no. Not ordered. Just you wait," she said, pulling out a drawer to dig amongst papers. "I've been workin' my magic."

Shuri pulled out a manilla folder that had W.W. - Proj. 1 printed on it.

She dropped the folder in front of the psychologist who sat across from her, gesturing for her to look through it. Y/N opened it to see several pages of prosthetics research, information on cybernetics and various designs for a bionic arm.

"Oh... wow." Y/N marveled.

"What do you think?"

"It's incredible," Y/N shook her head. "I didn't- ... I thought you meant you bought one or something. I didn't know you designed one"

"I didn't just design it. I made it."

"You- what?"

"Yep. First model ready for use. Do you want to see it?"

"I'd love to."

Shuri walked her over to a large, rectangular case in the side of the lab.

"Holy shit," she let slip.

The arm was astounding: a glossy black with ridges etched in a shiny gold. It glimmered, sitting in its casing.

Shuri laughed. Thank you."

"Sorry. Excuse my French. This is... remarkable. Can I give it to him?"

"I suppose so. It hasn't got much use just sitting in my lab."

Excitement grew in her chest. Bucky would be able to have an arm he was in control of, one that wasn't forcefully attached to him and used as a weapon. In a way, he would be gaining a sense of autonomy. God, she wanted to see him right away and tell him the news. She was happy to make Bucky happy.

"Oh," Shuri perked her head up. "And there was something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"Yeah, what's up?"

"You're aware of the trigger words, correct?"

"Of course."

"I'm close to fully deconstructing the mind control, but there's no way to know for sure unless we test it out..."

Oh. The excitement dissipated and her stomach dropped. She didn't mean...

"You don't mean..."

"The effect and response of the words needs to be tested on him."

Oh God. There was no way this would be easy.

"And you need to be the one to do it."

Fuck.

"Me?" she tried to hide her shock, her worry, her now overwhelming urge to protect him. "How come?"

"It seems like he trusts you most out of everyone here. I consulted with the Doras about safety and we think that if something were to go wrong, it'd be safest to happen with you. Of course they'll be nearby, but you'd be the one mostly likely to be able to control him in that state."

Her mouth went dry. Control him? She could never. She would never. She knew, in depth, the anguish he carried in his bones as a result of being trapped as a weapon wielded by other people. The thought of her controlling him made her skin crawl.

She knew how much he feared the Winter Soldier and how he would hate losing touch with himself again. He's been free from this kind of violation for a while now; she had very much rather not take that freedom away.

At the same time, she understood how this test was necessary for a full recovery and rehabilitation. And who knows if the words will even work? Maybe she'll say them and nothing will even happen.

He would have to get over this obstacle in order to make it to the other side clean. She could only imagine how scary this would be for him. But she'd be damned if she wasn't going to be right there with him.

"Okay," she said dryly. "When... when are we gonna do this?"

"Not yet but soon. I'll keep you updated."

The rest of the meeting carried on as usual, but Y/N might as well have not even been there. Her mind was off. Off somewhere trying to think of how to tell Bucky the news. The very last thing in the world she wanted to do was hurt him. She'd take his place if she could.

—

As soon as she was free from the calm, professional facade she had going with Shuri, she found herself speed walking back to where Bucky was. She needed to get to him. Now.

When his hut was in sight, she was nervous. She was nervous before, she supposed. She just wanted everything to be okay.

"Buck," she called, a few steps away from the entryway. "I need to talk to you!"

When she stepped inside she froze in place, staring blankly at the two super soldiers in front of her instead of the one she expected. Two as in Bucky and Steve.

"Y/N," Bucky stood up. He sounded surprised.

"Oh-uh," she stuttered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I can come back later."

"That's okay," Steve's voice was gentle. "I'll leave you... to it."

Steve threw Bucky a look she couldn't quite decipher before he left. Bucky just looked panicked.

And soon enough they were alone. They stood directly in front of each other, but with a noticeably awkward amount of space between them. The tiny part of her brain that was still mulling over the dream wanted him closer.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey..."

"You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah," she breathed. "It's uh... there's kind of a lot."

"Look, about yesterday, I-"

Oh. She completely forgot about that. Well, not completely. There was no way she could forget that. But, at the moment there were more pressing matters on her mind.

"It's not about yesterday."

"It's...not?"

"No. I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

"Uh... bad news?"

She took a steady breath in. She wasn't sure exactly how to tell him, she just knew he needed to know. He deserved nothing but the truth.

"So, I was just with Shuri and we discussed the next step in your treatment..."

He said nothing, waiting for the aforementioned "bad news." She continued.

"Apparently, we have to test the trigger words on you..."

His expression dropped and she watched all the color drain from his face.

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't wanna do it, but we have to do it to see if it's really outta your head."

"Yeah, that's the problem," he finally spoke. "What if it's not? Then I hurt someone - or multiple people. There's gotta be some other way to test it."

"You're not going to hurt anyone. Or multiple people."

"How can you say that?"

"It's just gonna be the two of us."

"What?!"

"Shuri thought the safest way of doing this was for me to conduct the test. That way, if things ever got out of hand, which is very unlikely to happen, I'd be the best bet at... handling... that situation. Since you know me the best."

"No way. There's no way. I thought you meant they were gonna strap me down and have some lab tech read them. This is way too unsafe-"

"Strap you down? Bucky, no-"

He still saw himself as an animal that needed to be contained. Muzzled.

"What if I hurt you?" his voice shook just a little.

The fear in his eyes was potent. It made her angry. Angry at Hydra and whoever the fuck else had a hand in this sin against the kind and gentle man who stood before her. The man who was genuinely scared of himself. How dare they make him feel so unsafe within his own mind, within his own body. All she wanted to do was make it better, and suddenly, she could no longer stand for the distance between them. She stepped forward and grasped his hand between both of hers.

"I trust you, Buck," she smiled a small but earnest smile, letting him know that she truly was here for him. "Entirely. I promise. Okay?"

He nodded, still reluctant and entirely scared.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"I do. I trust you, I do," he cast his glance downwards, almost in shame. "It's myself I don't trust."

Her chest twisted with an emotion difficult to place. Mostly, it was the desire to take every ounce of pain away. She wished she could just snap her fingers and make it fade into nothing.

"That's okay," she said.

He looked back up at her, confused.

"You don't have to trust yourself. That's hard enough as it is and Hydra didn't make it any easier. You just trust me, alright? I'm the one reading the words, so, even though I'd hate it, if you were to be... activated... you'd be listening to me not trying to fight me," she squeezed his hand. "And I will not let anything happen to you."

"I'm not worried about me..."

She knew. She was not stupid; she knew that Bucky was separate from the Winter Soldier and that theoretically, the Winter Soldier - and only the Winter Soldier - had the potential to hurt her. She wasn't blind to the dangers, but she also wasn't blind to the fact that there was no exact science to brainwashing. Whos to say nothing could ever seep through the programming? She knew what happened with Bucky when he was forced to fight Steve for the first time. How it changed him.

Even though the Winter Soldier was in there, there was more of Bucky. She knew that for sure. And she needed to make sure he knew one thing: even if the Winter Soldier was trying to claw his way back and entire world was against him, she saw Bucky and trusted Bucky and believed in Bucky. She was a constant. And she wouldn’t give up on him.

"What, you're worried about me?" she joked, lightheartedly. She took the hand she was holding and pressed it against her cheek. "This wouldn't hurt me, James Buchanan."

He sighed, feeling the warmth from her face. He did not deserve this kindness and he definitely did not trust himself despite her trust in him. Of course Bucky would never hurt her. But Bucky wasn't the Winter Soldier. And he didn't have the heart to tell her what the Winter Soldier could or would do. He didn't have the stomach to even think about what would happen if the Winter Soldier actually did something.

But there was something about the way she believed in him, the way her conviction was so strong. It made him almost start to doubt these feelings. He could never be sure of everything being okay, but at least he could be sure of her.

"Okay," he whispered.

"Okay?"

"I'll do it."

"Alright," she smiled.

She removed his hand from her face, but still held onto it.

"And even if you did try to fight me, I think I could go a couple rounds in the ring with the Winter Soldier. I'm big and tough."

They both laughed knowing she had very minimal fight training.

"You'd definitely kick my ass," Bucky chuckled.

She just smiled. And then her eyes grew wide.

"Oh! You wanna know the good news?"

"F'course."

Bucky watched her briefly disappear through the entryway before returning with a big, rectangular case. He raised an eyebrow.

"That's good news? What is it, a bomb?"

"I don't do bombs... arson only."

The look on his face made her wonder if he actually questioned whether or not she was serious. She fought laughter as she opened the case. It was silent for a moment. Y/N looked at him, waiting for a reaction.

"Is that... for me?"

"All yours, Buck. A favor I asked of Shuri."

She told him about the arm. Told him about Shuri's design, and the features and functionality. She didn't mention what made her think to ask Shuri, but that surely wasn't important.

"It's really cool, and like super sleek and badass. But more importantly, it will make you feel more... I don't wanna say regular 'cause nothing about you is regular," a shy smile slipped. "But more... how you're used to having your body feel and function."

"That's..." he shook his head before looking up and making dauntingly deliberate eye contact. "Thank you. For thinkin' of me. I mean it. I hope it wasn't too much trouble for her to make it."

"Nothin's too much trouble, Bucky. You're worth it."

"You're a real peach, y’know that?"

Suddenly she looked abashed. Did he say something wrong?

"Sorry- I didn't-"

"No, it's okay. I just got a weird sense of déjà vu. Don't worry about it."

He looked at her like he didn't quite believe her, but she tried not to think too hard about it.

"So..." Bucky gestured towards the arm. "...what do we do with this?"

"You wanna try it on?"

His brows shot up. "Oh! I mean- sure- I guess so, yeah."

She tried to pick it up and nearly threw her back out. "Jesus!"

"Woah there, tiger," he withheld a laugh, putting a hand under the vibranium arm to hold most of its weight.

"Okay, sit down," she ordered, both of them fumbling to hold onto the arm. "Shuri told me how to get the arm on. There's some... magnetic thing. I don't even know - it was some complex engineering lingo. Not my field."

After a couple minutes, clumsy hands attempting awkward assembly, and several curse words later... the arm was attached. They both stood as Bucky stuck out the bionic arm, admiring it and Y/N leaned back, admiring him. Wow.

Bucky smiled, holding both his forearms out - palms facing up - to see how they moved. "This is incredible."

He turned to her. "You're incredible. Thank you."

"No problem at all," she stepped forward. "How does it feel?"

Her hands found their way below his, cupping the underneath of them with a feather light touch. "How do you feel?"

"More... balanced," he laughed. "Coordinated?"

"Steady?"

"Absolutely."

"Stronger?"

"Definitely."

She looked up at him. "Confident? More comfortable in your own skin? That's what's most important."

He gripped her hands. "For sure. Thanks to you."

"Glad I could help. Just wanna make you feel more like yourself, you know?"

"I feel the most like myself when I'm with you," he nearly whispered.

He smiled, and then did something... unexpected. He let go of one of her hands and with the other, he twirled her around as if they were dancing. She went along with the movement, body falling in sync it even though she was confused.

"You make me wanna dance again."

With his voice so endearing, and his heart so spirited, the world around them fell quiet. She stepped forward and rested her hand on his shoulder. Then she placed one of his hands on her waist, and held the other out to the side, fingers intertwined with hers. And oh, the feeling of his hands on her; it was nearly overwhelming.

"Then dance."

And they swayed. They swayed to nothing, to the sweet sound of finding comfort in another person. She let her eyes flutter shut, allowed her guard to come down for just a moment. Just this moment. With him.

Bucky broke the silence with a shy question. "So yesterday... what does that mean for-"

"Let's just keep it between us."

"What do you mean?"

"It was a moment - like this one. I think I think too much, and I may have overreacted before. It doesn't have to be some cumbersome ordeal. It's just us."

"We're good then?"

"We're good."

"Good. 'Cause I like this."

She inhaled and smiled at the feeling of him inside her lungs. They continued swaying as they continued talking.

"You were in my dream you know?"

"Was I?"

"You were."

"Could I fly?"

"No," she laughed. "You were - well we, actually, were walking to that lake."

"To swim?"

Not exactly...

"I don't know. It's kinda foggy and didn't make much sense since it was a dream but we were definitely there."

"Did I say anything existentially insightful?" he joked.

"I don't remember much of what we said, but I remember how it felt."

"How... how did it feel?"

There she went again. She could feel herself slipping, but found it hard to care. She closed her eyes, thinking back to hibiscuses and Bucky's arms.

"The water and sun on my skin felt kind of like this," her hands ran up his sides dangerously slow and settled behind his neck, finger tips tangling into the ends of his hair.

His breath faltered. "Is that so?"

Unconsciously, his other hand found her waist and somehow the little space between them grew even smaller.

"Mhm," she hummed. "and the sight of a flower in your hair felt kind of like this."

Her hands moved to cup his face, the soft skin of her palm settling on his jawline.

"It was so pretty," she sighed.

"Yeah... pretty," he agreed. But he wasn't talking about the dream or the flower.

"And... your arms and your hands... felt kind of like this."

Gently, she pulled his face down to hers, though he needed no guidance or encouragement. When their lips met, that feelings of incompletion and longing, which had been prickling the back of her mind since the previous day, finally went away. They dissolved into fingers pressing into her hips, soft stubble tickling her cheek, and the delightfully encompassing presence of him.

She wasn't sure how long it was until they separated and words were spoken again. All she really recognized what that she was out of breath.

"And to think I was going to apologize for yesterday," Bucky smirked.

"I had to return the favor."

"And I gotta make up for lost time"

"Well, please don't let me stop you."

And he didn't. They continued right where they left off, except this time, it felt much too similar to something she had felt before. Hands began to roam just like they did in her dream.

The only thing was, her dream was cut short. She had no idea how it ended. But his hands were everywhere and it was all her senses could register. He was everywhere: her lips, her neck, her collar bones. She was burning.

The air ran out of her chest, and her voice was barely a breathy sigh. "Don't stop."

She could feel his smile on her skin. "Wouldn't dream of it."

-

The next morning, she awoke entwined in his arms - both of them.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance @ilovespideyyy @xpurpleglitter @bluelakeee @darkacademic2 @nickkie1129 @eclipsedplanet @paradisedixon @crazy-beautiful @coffee--writes @lilithknight1111 @buckybarnesishot310 @softladyhours @alwayssandy @those-sea-green-eyes @hero-ically @devilswaldorf @cc13723things @small-death-and-codeine @avengersgirllorianna @cataves @thatbitchsposts @talktomeaboutthestars @surrealpsycho @headheartbellarke @bubbly-moonwarrior @bluemoon-icecream @buckeyecreates @augustbucky @itsthemaree

[nelson-riddle-me-this]

Film soundtrack: Camelot

I have not seen this film or listened to the album before, so here are my live thoughts as I listen for the 1st time.

NEVER HEARD BEFORE | want to listen to | the worst | BAD | whatever | not my thing | GOOD | great | favorite | masterpiece

01. "Prelude and Overture"

Something about how this begins - it feels like they cut an intro, it just starts and I feel out of the loop. Also, as is usual with Broadway-film adaptations of this era, the orchestrations are larger and a little bite'ier. Pretty strings. Got that 20th Century Fox string sound - but wait, this is a Warners movie -OOOHO WAIT IT'S Alfred Newman conducting [longtime head of the Fox music dept.] heheh so I *am* right. Pretty ballads - "If Ever I Would Leave You". OOH these strings on "If Ever I Would Leave You" are GORGEOUS. And tail out. Beautiful!

02. "I Wonder What The King Is Doing Tonight?"

Richard Harris is a lot friendlier than Richard Burton was in the role of King Arthur on Broadway - and I'm into it. Also, I dig the brighter tempo here - makes it feel like we are indeed on the eve of a momentous occasion (wedding). Okay I wish they'd play with dyamics more - especially on lines like "he's wishing he were in Scottland fishing tonight" or "he's searching high and low for someplace to hide". Missed opportunities for text-painting.

03. "The Simple Joys of Maidenhood"

I can't help compare Vanessa Redgrave to Julie Andrews. Redgrave doesn't have an unpleasant sound, but she's lacking personality. I dig the 'Bolero'y millitaristic snare drum. Much of the joy in Julie's performance is how she mixes surface-level sweetness, and conniving seduction (think Betty White as 'Sue Ann Nivens' on THE MARY TYLER MOORE SHOW). But Redgrave's performance doesn't seem to be all that thoughtful. Also, not a fan of that ending, it doesn't feel like an ending, "Oh, it's over! That was it?", but perhaps it makes more sense with picture.

04. "Camelot and the Wedding Ceremony"

Nice bassoon. ?harpsichord?? So far this arrangement is the closest to the Broadway. I wish the strings were legato/slurred on "by order Summer lingers through September". Maybe I am too mickey-mouse'y with the text painting I want, but I prefer specificity. I like the pulling back the tempo a bit there. Love these woodwind lines! Oooh love it again, we're pulling the tempo down, dynamics, and slurring. Love it. Build. Build back up! YES! Lovely! OOoh this little Medievel winds passage! And the chorus! Oh those woodwinds are gorgeous. I need to learn more about them - recorders??? At first the singers didn't sound especially English, more American. As I listen more, their pronunciation is pretty English. But perhaps the harmonies are very American - like what you'd hear in a Disney movie or Mancini score of the era - so even sung with appropriate pronunciation they sound American?

05. "C'est Moi"

Frano Nero. Never heard of him. He's fine, but feels like a step-down from Robert Goulet. He lacks that clear strong edge that Goulet has. He's not as commanding. When Goulet praises himself, I buy it. Like he has the confidence and strength to really sell what he's singing. This man isn't selling me. Maybe that's a choice - maybe they want us to see him as a phony who's over-selling himself. But I feel like I still have that with Goulet and it's better because you feel like you're reading beetween the lines a little more - like resisting an extremely good/slick car salesman.

06. "The Lusty Month of May"

Nice opening. Pretty. I love the slower tempo for this - enhances the seductivness. Gorgeous strings. And we accel! Nice! Good ?harpsichord? Now I still don't like her as much as Julie, but Redgrave works better here than in "The Simple Joys of Maidenhood", staightforward lustiness is a little easier. This 3' section is nice, though I wish it were faster - a merry-go-round, but slightly unhinged.

07. "Follow Me and Children's Chorus"

Gorgeous, tinkly. Gorgeous chorus. They're stereo ping-ponging the choirs!!!! It's really effective. Oh and the childrens chorus is so sweet. This is a completely different approach than the OBC, but it works so well. Helps that this is an utterly divine song. Favorite track on the album so far, probably to remain so. HIGHLY RECOMMEND THIS TRACK.

08. "How To Handle A Woman"

Oooh he's upset and we're fast! This works! Even if he's generally warmer than Burton, Harris can still do angry! And pull it back, sweet and intimate. Oooh this whisper'y smolder bit O.o and now we're past the intro. I kind of like Harris better than Burton - his warmth is really an asset for this character. Oh yikes that Merlin line is very sexist :/.

09. "Take Me To The Fair"

The tempo is - not sure if it's even slower, but it's looser, and I don't like that. The precisely on-the-beat phrasing of the OBC (both vocally and instrumentally) communicates that Guenevere has this all planned out, it's an act, it's a trap, she's manipulating these silly men. Oh, the transition from "well, Sir Sagramore" to "you may sit BY me at the ball" is awful - either she just keeps going through it (but in a weird way) or they did a pickup and spliced her in there so she's slightly overlapping. Sorry Alfred Newman, but this is not IT. Who cast Redgrave? Who thought casting a non-singing actress in a role originally played by a remarkably strong actress-singer? I like the little harpsichord section. Worst Redgrave number so far. An insult to the OBC. I promise this is a good song, got listen to the cast album

10. "If Ever I Would Leave You"

Oh, so we're right into it! Nero's lack of boldness as compared to Goulet kind of works here - sweeter and softer for this intimate love song. Lots of this arrangement is just imitative of the vocal - which is nice but can get a little tiresome when it's not really in-the-pocket. Still this man doesn't have the presence that Goulet does. He just doesn't command your attention. Like this string interlude. Different. Flute :) adding ?oboe? under it. Violins. Now violas? I like it. Oh and I think the violins are doing finger tremolos. Great! The new interludes on this album are gorgeous, when the film people really get to go off and do their own thing, it's great. And are we back to the vocal? Yes, this works. Oh these strings are GORGEOUS. I miss the ?timpani? hits of the original, but actually given that Nero is not as powerful a vocalist, letting the strings lead those hits is a good choice.

11. "What Do the Simple Folk Do?"

Oigg Redgrave. Like the harpsichord and very 'royal' woodwinds. And tambourine. Very medieval. Yay, we DO get a whistling section! This is adorable :) I like this. BOOO Vanessa!!! Oh, I like the "their own folk - throne folk" rhyme, don't remember that from the OBC. Oh and Harris can get big and bold too!!! I really love Richard Harris in this. HE HAS THE RANGE. Oh, is that Marni Nixon? Sounds like her. Did you know the film composer Bronislau Kaper gave her her first break? He needed someone to dub ?Virginia O'Brien?'s singing voice for some picture, and looked in vain until some paige at the studio recommended her fellow-paige, Nixon, and the rest is history! I like this ending! Harris really carries this song on his back.

12. "I Loved You Once In Silence"

The guitar is neat, very different from the OBC - though I confess I don't remember this song as much as the others. See this is something Redgrave can do. Her soft kind of weak voice works for something intimate and straightforward like this. Still, I don't like her voice and every once in a while something in her tone feels so amaeturish that it bugs me. Oh dear, only Redgrave and Nero together. :( they just both seem like space-cases. They're not compelling. Perhaps they have screen presence, but they don't have audio presence.

13. "Guenevere"

Oooh love these ?string harmonics?! Eerie. Like this! The studio chorus is great. Some of the strings are too loud - I suspect that's just a mix issue. Oh I love the tambourine on 2 and 4! I love how large this sounds! That ?horn line? kinda steps on the male vocalists there. Oh I really love every spot the tambourine is here, huh! OH YES! BUILD! GLORIOUS!!!! Oh and the bell.... let the bell toll....... yesesssssssssssss........ fade..... Second-favorite track!

14. "Finale Ultimo" [Camelot (Reprise)]

Aww, Dicky Harris is sad :'( but I love the harp here playing the brass/w.w. figures we heard in "Camelot". Nice clarinets. And the guitar. Nice snare rolls. And here's the big finale! Big chorus! Oooh these harmonies have such body. Love hearing them linger. Get soft. BIG AGAIN! BIG DISNEY MOVIE ENDING!!!!!!!!

-------------------------------------------------

Ultimately it's not as tight or well-cast as the original Broadway cast album. Vanessa Redgrave is not a good Guenevere - she lacks the spark, sacharine underhandedness, deliberateness, and vocal chops that Julie Andrews brought to the role; and she doesn't supply anything meaningful in their place. Franco Nero is a watered-down Lancelot and lacks the commanding presence and powerful voice that made Robert Goulet so effective [I did some research and it seems Lancelot's singing voice was dubbed by Gene Merlino]. -2 for them, but +1 for Richard Harris, who brings a warmth to King Arthur that Richard Burton lacks, and yet he is powerful, commanding, even angry when he needs to be. The studio chorus is GORGEOUS and truly one of this album's great strenths. The arrangements/orchestrations are very pretty, though don't always feel as thought-out as the OBC. It's likely a larger orchestra, so I understand that things might not be as tight and you might want to take tempos down for that reason, but it really waters down a few numbers. Ultimately this is an uneven album, the OBC is far better. But at the very least I recommend this version of "Follow Me".

[handeaux]

Ghostbuster! Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Came To Cincinnati To Chat With Spirits

Cincinnati loved Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, even though the great author left Sherlock Holmes behind on his only two visits to Cincinnati.

On his first visit, in 1894, Mr. Doyle arrived in Cincinnati not quite a year after he killed off Holmes and Moriarty at the Reichenbach Falls. He told the Cincinnati Post [17 October 1894]:

“Yes, it was a case of cold-blooded murder, and when I killed Sherlock Holmes I killed my best friend. But I had to kill him. It was a case of self-defense. I had written 26 stories about him and the mental strain consequent on the working up of the adventures was proving too much for me.”

During his brief stay, Sir Arthur was ensconced in the grand Burnet House. He lectured at the Odd Fellows Temple at the northwest corner of Seventh and Elm. His informal lecture, warmly received, consisted of a desultory memoir of his experiences as a writer.

While in town, he managed a couple of literary sorties, touring libraries and bookstores. At the Public Library, Head Librarian Albert W. Whelpley showed him around, but Doyle was more entranced by the young ladies of the staff. According to the Cincinnati Enquirer [24 October 1894]:

“Librarian Whelpley was conducting Mr. Doyle through the institution and introduced him to the lady attendants, with whom the great Englishman seemed charmed, while they were somewhat fluttered in the presence of the novelist, except one. She smilingly took his arm and led him toward an empty shelf. ‘See, Mr. Doyle, this empty shelf,’ she said with arch smile. Mr. Doyle nodded assent. ‘Well, there is the spot where your books are kept, but they are all in circulation.’ Mr. Doyle understood the delicate compliment and blushed like a schoolgirl.”

Doyle commended the Robert Clarke bookstore so effusively that Clarke used the quote in his advertising for years to come. Cincinnati dining, however, earned lukewarm reviews. Doyle had never eaten sweet potatoes before this trip to the Colonies and said he rather liked them, but had nothing good to say about corn on the cob and he was diplomatically neutral about eggplant.

When Doyle returned to the Queen City almost 30 years later, he again left his iconic detective at home. Even though he had since resurrected Holmes for several stories and books, on his 1923 tour Doyle presented himself as a missionary for spiritualism. Although his interest in communicating with the dead grew over several decades, Doyle’s fascination with the practice amplified after his son, Kingsley, was killed in military service during World War I.

Doyle took rooms in the Sinton Hotel and secured the Emery Theater for a lecture on “The Promise of Immortality.” Doyle was particularly animated about “spirit photographs” which purported to illustrate ghosts who appeared during séances. Local newspapers, although skeptical, reported that his enthusiasm for séances and spirit photos was sincere.

While his lecture sold out, critics swarmed. The Catholic Telegraph which, in 1894, was delighted to point out that Doyle had Irish ancestry and a Jesuit education, in 1923 published a front-page report announcing that Jesuits had proved spirit photographs were fakes. Cincinnati attorney W.W. Symmes told the Cincinnati Post [20 April 1923] that spirit photography was nothing but hokum:

“I made some myself. I made a photograph of the new gate to the tomb of General Harrison. When the picture was developed and printed it showed the ‘ghost’ of General Harrison and John Cleves Symmes facing each other over the gate, as tho holding a conversation.”

Symmes explained in detail how he had faked the whole thing. Meanwhile, a Post reporter, Anne Gellenbeck, published a damning exposé of her own visit to Mrs. Laura Pruden, a Price Hill medium much praised by Doyle. Mrs. Pruden energetically transcribed spirit messages from Miss Gellenbeck’s mother, who happened to be very much alive at the time.

Doyle, not at all dissuaded by this negative attention, spent his time in Cincinnati trying to introduce Mrs. Pruden to J. Malcolm Bird, an editor at Scientific American, who was researching what became a royal hatchet job on the whole spiritualist enterprise.

Despite the skepticism this time around, Doyle sold out the Emery and got a warm response from his audience. The Enquirer’s report [23 April 1923] seemed mildly disappointed that everyone behaved politely:

“The entire address was graciously and often energetically received by the audience. Applause followed many of his remarks. Hecklers did not intrude.”

During his visit, Doyle managed to squeeze in a séance with his favorite medium, Mrs. Pruden. As he reported in his travelogue based on this tour, “Our Second American Adventure,” she predicted that Doyle would return to Cincinnati in 1925. On this, even Doyle was skeptical:

"It was not my intention, and prophecy is the least reliable of psychic gifts. I have great hopes that Mrs. Pruden may come to London, where her pleasant personality and her remarkable powers, which are less sensitive to hostile influences than those of most mediums, would make her a very desirable demonstrator of psychic truth.”

Doyle proved the better prophet. While Laura Pruden did journey to London as Doyle’s guest, he never again returned to Cincinnati – except in the form of books, films and radio serials based on his immortal characters.

[mediaevalmusereads]

Guns, Germs, and Steel: The Fates of Human Societies. By Jared Diamond. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2005.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: non-fiction, science, history

Part of a Series? No.

Summary: In this "artful, informative, and delightful" (William H. McNeill, New York Review of Books) book, Jared Diamond convincingly argues that geographical and environmental factors shaped the modern world. Societies that had a head start in food production advanced beyond the hunter-gatherer stage, and then developed writing, technology, government, and organized religion—as well as nasty germs and potent weapons of war—and adventured on sea and land to conquer and decimate preliterate cultures. A major advance in our understanding of human societies, Guns, Germs, and Steel chronicles the way that the modern world came to be and stunningly dismantles racially based theories of human history.

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: discussions of racism (including genocide, violence, etc.)

Because this book is non-fiction, the structure of this review is going to be different from how I usually do things.

This book has been on my TBR for a while, and I decided to pick it up because I’ve been on a prehistory kick lately. This book is also one of my partner’s favorites, so I figured it would be a good time to read it.

The first thing I really appreciated about this book was the same thing that drew me to David Reich’s Who We Are and How We Got Here. Guns, Germs, and Steel is meant to be something of a hybrid: it’s not a pop-science book, but it’s not aimed solely at specialists, either. Diamond avoids jargon and carefully lays out supporting evidence to prove his points, so the book is easy to follow. I also felt like Diamond was respecting my intelligence by trusting me to understand complex ideas without expecting mastery of the ins and outs of, say, plant domestication. Thus, I think GGS is a good book for those who want to learn more about the development of farming, the spread of ideas such as writing and government, and the effects of disease on colonial subjects - especially if you’re the type of person who wants a little more than pop science.

Diamond also does a good job speaking about the value of his analysis, making clear that he is not out to prove “white superiority” when answering the question “why was Europe the continent that colonized much of the world instead of Asia or Africa?” I do wish Diamond had spent more time refusing racist arguments, however; though I don’t think Diamond is guided by racism, nor do I think he’s trying to argue that white people today have no responsibility when it comes to the impacts of colonization, but there are moments where it seems like he’s absolving white settlers from their actions because “it’s just luck” or geography that allowed certain societies to gain advantages over others. Again, I don’t think Diamond is trying to make excuses, but I would have liked to see a bit more work done to make that point more clear.

Also, because this book was published in the 90s (I read a later edition), there are a few factual errors that result from science, history, and anthropology making new discoveries in the past two decades. I don’t think the errors make Diamond’s main argument worthless, however. He still says that the combination of farming, geography, technology, etc. allowed some societies to “advance” more rapidly than others, and I think that argument is well-supported. It’s just that some of his examples and details could be updated to reflect current knowledge.

The main value of this book, I think, is not to explain *the* reason why Europe was able to colonize much of the world, but to show how farming, animal domestication, etc. gives some societies advantages than can be wielded against others. If I were to critique the central purpose of this book, I would say that I would want a discussion of the rise of white supremacy or what kind of ideologies caused Europe to consider itself entitled to other lands, etc. Suggesting that people just naturally wield their advantages against other societies feels a bit too simple to me, and I think I would have liked to see Diamond consider the non-material conditions that enabled colonization to happen (if his purpose was truly to answer the question he set out to address).

But as it stands, this book made me think a lot about the importance of farming, technology, geography, etc. and how societal “advancements” don’t just spring up out of nowhere. To some degree, people are shaped by the material conditions of their environments, and while the environment can’t explain everything, it can shed light on some things. If Diamond had a companion book about the ideologies or power structures that enabled colonialism to happen, I think the duology would make for a convincing body of scholarship.

[automaticdragonkitten]

Breaking Bad

I am starting this blog to discuss not only one of my favorite all time television shows, but arguably the best television show of all time. In specific, I will be looking at the last handful of episodes which are arguably the best in the entire series. Although there are many, many great episodes. I discovered this great show through some of my friends all the way back in sixth grade, and I actually only saw these few episodes with them due to the fact that they were airing live at that particular point. After seeing these few episodes, although they were the last and I did not even know it, my life was honestly changed. As I delved into the show shortly after this, because I was so fascinated with it and particularly Bryan Cranston’s performance, I began to love it. At this point in my life I had never seen something so sensational, and I did not even know I wanted to be a film major at this time. Throughout the rest of the show I only grew more intrigued, with each season gaining a new kind of tension/thrill. I was fully involved at this point, and was binging the show for hours at a time. 

Some debates I have had with family and friends over this artifact cover a wide variety of topics, but the most prevalent one had to be - Is Walt a good guy? And back then I blindly would have told you yes, but naturally as time passes and we grow older we begin to see discrepancies in our past ways of thought and realize a new detail or maybe that we were wrong about something. If you knock yourself out of the lens of Bryan’s riveting performance as the famous W.W. you start to realize that “hey maybe he isn’t that good of a guy after all”. Not only did it take me many years to come to this realization, but it also took many viewings of the show and a rewatch of these last few episodes to see Walt snap the way he did. 

Not only is it the character of Walt, and Bryan Cranston’s fantastic range but Jessie and Hank also carry a lot of the weight/pivotal show moments. Portrayed respectively by Aaron Paul, and Dean Norris these two characters share a few incredible moments throughout the show. I could not imagine any other actors in these two roles, both fit their character to a T. Especially in regards to these last few episodes of the show, these two both put on electric performances. 

Earlier I mentioned that Walt may not be a good guy, but that does not make him the antagonist of the show. Each season this show keeps things very fresh by taking Walt on a new road each time, and also by consistently and cleverly bringing in perfect antagonists for Walt to face off against. Just to mention a few Tuco Salamanca (played by Ramon Cruz), and Gus Fring (played by Giancarlo Esposito). We also have to acknowledge the final antagonist for Walt, Jack, portrayed by (Michael Bowen). Jack is used as an antagonistic character throughout the last half of the last season. And Jack is really used as a pivotal point to drive these last few episodes home and unfold the way they do. 

With all of these amazing actors, and a  great area of the country to shoot, the highly talented Vince Gilligan and Peter Gould directed/wrote one of the best shows of all time. 

[rjzimmerman]

My favorite author: Richard Powers. I know I’ve strongly pushed people into reading “The Overstory.” One of the best novels I’ve ever read. Those who took me up on my suggestion have come back to me and have been equally effusive about the book. So......read it! And now here comes another.......”The Bewilderment,” to be released September 21.

Excerpt from this story from the New York Times:

On a cool, rainy morning in August, the novelist Richard Powers was in one of his favorite hiding places, a tiny pebble cove along a mountain stream in the Great Smoky Mountains. He has spent countless hours here, writing in his electronic notebook, swimming in the frigid churn until his limbs are numb and staring up at the canopy of alders, sycamore, beech, eastern white pine, hemlock, pawpaw and maple that has become as familiar to him as his own living room.

He was currently fixated on a seemingly unremarkable mossy boulder surrounded by ferns. “There could be 50 species of moss on a foot of rock,” he said. “These lichen could be 1,000 years old.”

“Don’t get me started on these guys,” he added as he paused to examine one fern.

Powers moved to Tennessee five years ago, when he was working on “The Overstory,” a multigenerational epic that centers on the mysterious lives of trees. He came to the Smoky Mountains to study the park’s old growth forest and was so bewitched by the place that he decided to stay.

He was hiking in the woods nearby one day when he had the idea for his new novel, “Bewilderment,” which W.W. Norton will release on Sept. 21. Set in the near future, “Bewilderment” is narrated by Theo Byrne, an astrobiologist whose search for life on other planets feels increasingly futile in the face of the coming collapse of life on Earth. As he struggles with the disasters unfolding around him, Theo fears for his 9-year-old son, Robin, who is consumed by grief over the death of his mother and the fate of the planet.

“Bewilderment” marks Powers’s latest and perhaps furthest foray into science fiction, but it has ominous echoes of contemporary America — catastrophic weather, political unrest, a Trump-like president who tweets erratically and spouts conspiracy theories about election fraud, a deadly virus that jumps from cows to humans and spreads rapidly before it gets detected.

The novel is also a coda to “The Overstory,” whose success catapulted Powers to new levels of literary fame. It won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction in 2019 and was shortlisted for the Booker Prize, drawing praise from the likes of Barack Obama, David Byrne, Jane Fonda and Geraldine Brooks. But while “The Overstory” changed his life and career, it also left Powers, now 64, drained and uncertain if he would write again.

[imperfectionarts]

My Journey

Hi! and hope you guys have a good day today! For the beginning of my blog, I will share a little bit of my journey as an art student. Ever since I took an Art and Design subject in high school which is one of my very very favorite subject for my ‘O’ level era. I started it with the study of tonal value and understanding the color theory. When I was a kid, I wasn't born to be an artist or specifically a painter, I only knew how to draw and make a stickman from a craft paper or making an airplane and a boat from random and origami paper. 

Unintentionally, when I was in high school I chose to be an art stream student because I thought creatives are unique people. And at that time, I still remember I entered the art classroom for the first time and I didn’t really know what I was doing and I wasn't familiar with the tools and the art supplies that I was holding in my hand when the class started to begin. My first class started at about 10 am in the morning, with only a box of graded pencils and an A4 sketchbook that I bought from W.W Mart in Beribi. I was really surprised that we only have about 7 students in my art class at that time, and I felt that is a good opportunity because this class is going to be so quiet and I can even get more focus doing all my artworks with larger space for each of us. First thing we did was, we learned about tonal value and how it really important to create a quality artwork. ‘O’ level was easy for me because we only thought to know how to do shading and observing things and stuff that we gonna draw especially we often did still life and observational drawing such as the observational drawing of a crushed soda can or a pair of shoes and we need to be creative to take second hand photos and observational photos to get an A grade. 

Then, I pursued my art journey in sixth form in Maktab Duli, Gadong. This time, I knew that I had to step up my game and I need to get more serious because it was an A level quality of work where I need to show my satisfaction towards my work and I have to do more artworks and research in just short amount of time. Other than that, I was also taking another two A level subjects that I need to focus on. In my A level, we talking about perfection and quality specifically in painting and drawing. We thought to use acrylics and brushes. We also painting and drawing still life and portraiture. We have four components need to be done in one and a half year of time. In one component we have at least 5 to 6 artworks includes of drawings and paintings study. At this time, I felt really tired of painting because it is consuming most of my time at A level other than studying another subject and coping with all of them. Then, I pursued my study in UBD which is slightly different than my ‘A’ level this time. In UBD, I feel relieves and I know I need to catch up more on my creative assignment’s due date but less artwork to do and more essay assignments to do. So, this first blog post is an overview of all of my posts that I am going to put in throughout this blog and all my experiences as an art student from O level and A level and now as a Design and Creative Industry in UBD.

[juleswolverton-hyde]

The Raven on Poetry & the Flaws of Society

Top o’  the morning, lads and lasses,

As you may or may not know, I study English Language and Culture and am currently taking a course in lyric poetry. This week’s theme is ‘’The Lyric and Society’’ and we mostly discuss how lyric poetry can shape and help society.

Plato was thoroughly against poets, deeming them evil because what they wrote could be taken for the ideal bad (solely meant for God to exact) and thus for truth. In fact, he even went as far as to advocate in his book The Republic all poets should be banished to another city. He basically was like Oliver Cromwell (1599 - 1658, in power in Great Britain in the period 1653-1658). No laughter, no art, no dancing, no poetry.

Nevertheless, as the world eventually evolved to its current high/advanced capitalism state thanks to solipsism, poets have been disregarded often because what they said was too difficult or too convoluted to understand. And how does one protect society from what cannot be comprehended? How does one protect the philosophy one’s own mind is the sole sure thing to exist and thus its vision and experience of the world is true?

Indeed, disregard the written word entirely.

Censor what is said.

Hide the truth.

However, what people fail to see is that poets never say things outright.

I never say things outright.

And for ignorant minds, what cannot be understood is scary. The post-war, new Sublime is terrifying.

Walter Benjamin (1892-1940) described Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867) as ‘’the painter of modern life’’. When looking at the latter’s poem titled ‘Spleen’, it becomes evident in the third stanza that current life is leaning towards a rainy bleak dystopia. No, in fact, it already is one.

‘’(III)

I'm like the king of a rainy country, rich 

but helpless, decrepit though still a young man 

who scorns his fawning tutors, wastes his time 

on dogs and other animals, and has no fun; 

nothing distracts him, neither hawk nor hound nor subjects starving at the palace gate. 

His favorite fool's obscenities fall flat 

—the royal invalid is not amused— 

and ladies in waiting for a princely nod 

no longer dress indecently enough 

 to win a smile from this young skeleton. 

The bed of state becomes a stately tomb. 

The alchemist who brews him gold has failed 

to purge the impure substance from his soul, 

and baths of blood, Rome's legacy recalled 

by certain barons in their failing days,  

are useless to revive this sickly flesh 

through which no blood but brackish Lethe seeps.’’

(Charles Baudelaire, ‘Spleen’)

A flâneur is a gentleman who strolls the streets, observing the elements of daily life which are not openly discussed. They are in communion with the urban environment. The speaker is such a man and shocks the reader by remarking on all that is wrong with the current society. This is what is happening. This is going on outside. Prostitutes, poverty, beggars, starvation. 

This is life.

And by speaking of such matters by putting them in a poetical frame and inflicting such shock, people can unite to create a better future because they get to see the flaws they live with. 

Theodor Adorno (1903 - 1969), a German literary critic associated with The Frankfurt School, had another vision and was of the opinion all poetry is political. Even a piece about a flower growing in the garden is political because the flower is the object and not the modern world in which it grows. By not speaking of society, a protest is made against it. It goes without saying that openly speaking about politics makes a poem political. So, one way or another, all poems are political.

According to him, society and poets alike use the medium of language to convey ideas. Nonetheless, poets are better at bending language and are able to save us from the bleak, helpless and melancholic capitalistic mess society has become after W.W.1 and W.W.2. This they do by portraying a different reality in the hope the public will strive to actually achieve this vision instead of carrying on as they do. The poet will, in any case, and under any circumstances.

A lot of post-war poets have endeavoured to dissect the social structures that have been given meaning by conventions and institutions. A prime example of this is the difference between males and females. What makes a man a man and a woman a woman? 

The essential question was and should still be: ‘’How do I share my experiences but also protest against society?’’

This is how:

1. Expose the limits that imprison citizens

2. Destroy these structures.

This is why The New York School of Poetry and L=A=N-G=U=A=G=E have been influential. The former is incredibly ironic about cosmopolitan life and the latter takes language as we know it and makes it their own, completely disregarding structure.

In a way, I am doing it myself by writing in a Shakespearean fashion. It is not meant for the masses but such is the fate of the work and person of a poet. Pay attention to language and the (broken) meanings of words and you shall see what is wrong.

Why the current society is wrong.

Open your eyes.

The poets are waiting.

[tlbodine]

Books Read in April

Pet Sematary, Stephen King

A re-read to coincide with the release of the new movie. Not my favorite King book, but solid. It’s a good example of how you can get by with things as an established author that you can’t do in a first book -- I don’t think anyone would have published this if it was an unknown author -- and that kind of risk taking is maybe an important responsibility of the successful. 

In Search of the Nobility, TX Wildman, Elford Alley

A thoroughly enjoyable slender little novel from one of my favorite fellow Wattpadders. Well worth picking up. 

All My Colors, David Quantick

Nabbed a review copy of this one. Since I’m writing a proper review, I won’t give any spoilers here, but I’m glad I got the chance as I might have missed this one otherwise. 

Other stuff: 

“The Monkey’s Paw,” W.W. Jacobs

A short story. I’d read it before, but Pet Sematary gave me the urge to re-read. Fun fact: For a long time I got this story and “The Gift of the Magi” mixed up in my head. Hilarity ensues. You can read it free here, it’ll take you about 5 minutes if that: https://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/j/jacobs/ww/monkey/

I also managed to finish beta-reading for @halfbloodlycan who is a very good sport about what a godawful beta reader I am considering I meant to finish this literally four months ago and this kids is why I should never volunteer for things. 

[rankentech]

Marcus Chaplin spent eight years in the Army then chose Ranken Technical College and studied Industrial Engineering Technology (IET). He graduated Magna Cum Laude with an Associate Degree in Industrial Technology in May 2013. Marcus is a Senior Facilities Manager for W.W. Grainger, a worldwide industrial supply company. “Ranken helped hone my work ethic and helped me transition from the military to the civilian world. The dress code, student code and attendance policies were all very comforting, having lived a rigid military life. Ranken taught me the mechanical, electrical, and fabricating skills that I have used every day since my graduation both in my professional and personal life,” he says. “I wouldn’t be where I am today, overseeing a 1.3 million square foot facility and a team of 40, without the combination of leadership development and technical aptitude. [I’m] proud to be a veteran of this great nation and proud to be an alum of Ranken!” Jeffrey Scott, former IET instructor and Ranken alum, explains “Marcus was a great student with a strong drive and work ethic. He was always the first to jump in on projects and volunteer for assignments. Marcus served in a student worker role that included prepping, teaching and mentoring other students.” Steve Williams, Senior Manager of Facilities, DC Operations Excellence at Grainger, shared “Marcus exhibits great leadership ability, willingness to accept responsibility to develop his team, as a strong team makes a strong leader. While I’ve only had less than a year working with him, it’s apparent that he is eager to contribute to his local team, and the larger team within the organization, and supply his insight and experiences to benefit the whole.” While at Ranken, Marcus’ favorite memory was being hired as an adjunct instructor and teaching continuing education classes in the evening. He says, “[It] launched my love for developing and investing in the success of those around me.” Marcus also served as the Student Ambassador President and President of the Student Government Association. #rankentech