#translation: band I like might. suck. a bit. politically speaking

[ehlnofay]

we live in hell and everything sucks forever

[deadenthusiasm]

Queen in Poland, Fryderyki '95

Brian and Roger in Warsaw, 1996

The first visit of Queen's musicians to our country took place in 1996. In the Congress Hall in Warsaw, Brian May and Roger Taylor received the Fryderyk '95 for Made in Heaven in the "Foreign Album of the Year" category.

I will comment some little things like this. Also click read more, because it will be looooong. And English isn’t my first language, I tried to proofread this multiple times but there might be some errors, so shhh...

During the visit of Brian May and Roger Taylor from the Queen band in Warsaw, their caretaker was Kinga Siennicka from Pomaton EMI. Here are a handful of reflections from the meeting with famous musicians.

Initially, only Roger was supposed to come, but two days before the planned visit, it turned out that Brian, who returned from vacation, would also gladly go to Warsaw. It was also known that they would be accompanied by Jim Beach - the legendary manager of the band and the terror of the entire EMI. I have heard all sorts of stories about Jim, in general all my colleagues at EMI agreed that Jim is even a nice guy - until things go wrong. So, for my own safety, I checked everything three times: apartments in the Bristol hotel, limousine (eight-meter Cadillac), restaurants, the course of the Fryderyk and platinum awards ceremony, etc.

The big day has finally arrived - Tuesday, March 19. Jim, who lives in Montreux, Switzerland, flew first. He turned out to be an innocent-looking old man with a visual impairment called ... squint, which, I must admit, made contact a bit difficult during the conversation ... A few minutes after 3:00 p.m., the "right" plane landed with Roger Taylor, Brian May and Martin Groves - Roger's friend, his bodyguard, assistant and "a little bit of everything" ... Of course, there was a crowd of fans waiting at the airport, who in a way known only for them found out about the time of the band's arrival (some were supposed to have been waiting since 6 a.m.!) Also a dozen of television news programs reporters were there too (Teleexpress, Panorama, News). It was the latter that turned out to be the most troublesome. After about twenty minutes and the intervention of six security people, we managed to reach the limo and quite efficiently arrive to the hotel.

In the evening, a Fryderyk ceremony, but earlier a dinner in the Old Town was planned. As the gentlemen expressed their willingness to take a walk, Brian had the opportunity to practice Polish polite phrases, which he would use during his evening speech at the Polish Theater. Either I'm not the best teacher, or… Polish too difficult. In the end, however, the phrases were consolidated, the dinner test was positive as well, and everything seemed to be in perfect order until we stood backstage in the theater, just before the musicians went on stage. Then Brian said with horror in his eyes: I won't say it !! I'm gonna be a moron who pretends to speak Polish, and besides, I'll sound pathetic with my English accent! There was nothing left for me to do but say that if I can make a moron of myself speaking English all the time, then he can make himself a "moron" for ten seconds by saying one sentence in Polish! It worked. Brian took the stage and choked out, Good evening… we are honored. After leaving the stage, he threw himself around my neck saying: I did it! and you could see that he was really happy and touched.

Video backup

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2 minutes in

Wtf are the mics so low lmao

The guy says it sucks for such tall people

Brian says “And in my best Polish: Jesteśmy zaszczyceni” (We are honored) and Roger says “Bardzo dziękujemy. Dziękuję” (Thank you very much. Thank you)

The way they say it is brilliant. Brian has his English accent, but it’s not bad and Roger spoke like it was his native language

Mr. May is a man who lives in his own world, always focused on something, absent in thoughts. For example, he could choose gifts for his family for hours in an amber shop, while everyone was starving, waiting for him to decide on something ... It was because of Brian that we were almost late for the plane ... because he had to take a photo of the Palace of Culture and Science!

After the ceremony, we went to conquer the night Warsaw, but we did not stay in any of the venues for too long, because everywhere the musicians were immediately recognized and the signing of autographs began ...

The next day we went to see the Łazienki Park and the Chopin Monument, which Roger would gladly take home with him. The musicians also took a commemorative photo with the Polish policemen who turned out to be the escort of the (second) British Queen, they ate, packed up and with a little trouble (about which earlier) reached the airport. At 4 p.m. they happily left our country

Roger and Brian with Frederic Chopin Monument

Translated from this source

[m00nlitknight]

wherever i may roam. ( 1 of 2 )

fandom: IT (2017) pairing:  patrick hockstetter / female reader word count:   2.1k+ warnings:  underage drinking. loud scenes. men being creepy. patrick being patrick. extra: based heavily off one of these prompts.  part two in the works!  i hope you all enjoy this, and have a fantastic day c:

Having parties wasn’t a known rarity within the ranks of Derry, but they weren’t a known phenomenon on a superficial level, either.  Within the ranks of upper class high schoolers, they were typically done in the fashion of a small circle of friends rather than anything colossal.  Those instances and occasions of plenty were saved for the rare event of a musical guest.  While the quality of the music wasn't considered a static variable, the fun and energy that ensued from the crowd - teens and college students, usually - was.  For that, many found themselves grateful for the bands, even if they were bad metal covers of pop songs, cover bands for hot acts that didn’t make tour stops in Maine, or just song-writers who were trying to make it in the world of music.

You couldn’t complain -- you shouldn’t, really.  Being the daughter of a well-off lawyer whose business was usually taken out of town, and a girl with a reputation to upkeep; these events didn’t just fly under your radar, they were on a completely different radar altogether.  It sucked, really, to be thrust into expectations you didn’t care to uphold, but not having the might to fight back.  So, you did what you could and lived with it.

However, living with it meant blatantly going against the rule of social rules, society, and your father all the while being directly under their nose.  It was a needle-thin line to walk, but one you felt you walked with confidence and care.

Which, is how you managed to sneak out of the house undetected and attend the concert that had been whispered within the school the previous week.  Spoken from under the bleachers, overheard from the bathroom by those who smoked and considered themselves too cool for the joint; who knew your keen sense of hearing would become so useful?

From the moment your father bid you a sterile adieu, composed of a hollow embrace and chaste kiss to the head, you had begun putting your plans in motion.  Wherever he went, likely to a hotel for whatever trial was taking place early the next morning, or whatever, you couldn’t find it in yourself to particularly care.

Looking the part of a ‘typical’ metalhead wasn’t something you were truly infatuated with to any degree.  Sure, putting on the guise of torn jeans, fishnets, boots, and whatever decimated t-shirt you could find was a great bound of comfort compared to the typical stuffy outfits you had, but it felt tiring to have not just one, but two kinds of social guises to keep up.  Polar opposites, at that.  Surely, you deserve an award for it.

You ease the vehicle into park, a full street away from the actual event, to ensure the protection of the metallic body of your car.  Next, you lean to look yourself in the eye -- eyes rimmed with a sharp black, smudged with burgundy eyeshadow, and lips done with a simple gloss.  Had you any actual lip colors, you would’ve reached for them instead.  You stare for a moment longer, admiring the well-pointed wing extending your likely bored resting face.

Stud earrings and a lazily done ponytail completed your look, the rest of your outfit accented with bits of silver jewelry you couldn’t find it in yourself to truly care about.  Several rings were on your fingers, simple silver bands you had bought from thrift stores recently.  In the frosty, night air you wore a black cardigan over a simple black tank top.  Nondescript, you hope, and would allow you to simply blend into the background.  A simple, forgettable face in the crowd.  Exhaling, you prepare yourself for the night to come and push the car open.

The music, likely booming from the basement, lilts through the air with jagged electricity, and it manages to translate into your veins with a faint tingle in your fingers.  You grin to yourself, already feeling the exhilaration to come.  Around the premises of the home a multitude of cars appear parked, which has you thanking your mind for avoiding the mess of it.  Multiple parked on the curbside, in the driveway, and also on the lawn.  The image of the destroyed grass and streaky soil has you cringing internally, for the remembrance of the hard work that likely went into the landscaping.  

The open, and partially wrecked, door frame is but a glance into the chaos that took place shortly after the sun laid itself to daily rest.  Broken electronics, a lamp, a shattered glass coffee table, and a bloody and unconscious stranger lying all in view.  Suddenly, you felt thankful for the thick and hard soles of your boots, and preyed your balance wouldn’t be giving out on you anytime soon.

As you draw closer you hear the music increase in volume, and can only imagine the ear-shattering havoc occurring just down the stairs.  A sudden shriek to your left rips you from your foot hitting the entryway of the door, instead whipping to a sudden figure being body slammed through what you assumed was the living room window.  You felt a wave of relief wash over you at the fact that this wasn’t your home, but a resounding ripple of pity for whoever actually owned the place.

You quickly stepped past and shuffled through the living room, leaving the unnamed duo to brawl, the more coherent shouting briefly as a greeting.  Quickly you found the kitchen, from the trail of empty and shredded beer cans, to the demolished and alarming amount of disposable cups, you snickered to yourself quietly.  The volume increased as you moved more into the building, most of the partygoers sticking to their own groups and remaining calm.  Wherever the violent action was, it was bound to be nearer to the actual band.

In the corner do you find one of the kegs, swiftly making yourself a drink and turning back to the face of a stranger.  Ebony hair, gel-slicked to perfection, deep brown eyes, and a teetering stance; he eyes you with curiosity and an underlying sense of something else.  You shift uncomfortably when he registers your attention on him.

“Y’from here?” he slurs, prodding your shoulder aggressively.

“Nope,” a bold-faced lie, coupled with nonchalant disinterest.  “You?”

“Nah, from, uh...Place a’ways from here,”  he gestures with both hands, drink-filled cup sloshing with the movement and liquid threatening to spill from the open top.  He leans down to your level.   “Where y’from, doll?”

“Don’t quite think I’ll share where I’m from with a guy who won’t even tell me his name before getting my address,” you cringe at the stench of beer heavy on his breath and lean back.

“Oh, uhhh...Name’s, fuckin’...Michael, y’can call me Mike, though,” a grin overtakes his features while your frown deepens.

“Alright, Mike, I’ll see’ya around,”  you attempt to shift around him, to shuffle out from the keg-corner only to be blocked.

“N’awww, c’mon?  I was polite, or whatever, ain’t’cha gonna tell me your name, dollface?”

“No, now let me through.”

“Or what, kitten?”

Outwardly you groan at the intrusion of your space, and also the blatant annoyance of him.  His turns nearly primal while the music gets louder, a crescendo you knew you would likely have trouble yelling over.

A thin, pale finger with several rings taps itself on his shoulder, from a form you were unable to see.  Michael turns around, aggravation apparent while he begins, “Can’t’cha see we’re busy h--”

He’s cut off by a jarring and strength-filled punch, falling awkward and stone-cold out on your shoulder and kegs.  You watch him fall, as though it happens in slow motion, eyes wide and nearly dropping your drink.  Upon turning your head you come eye-to-eye with someone who could put you in an even worse position and you feel a faint sliver of fear scurry up your spine.  Patrick Hockstetter.

“Kitten,” he starts, with a deadly vocal tone which could only be described as velvet draped over gravel.  You want to cringe.  “That your boyfriend or somethin’?”

“Ew, no,”  No gentle care is taken into shoving the unconscious boy’s body from yours and onto the matted, once shaggy carpeting.  “Just a fuckin’ creep who didn’t know where or when to stop.”

Recognition flashes in his eyes, momentary, and he grins to himself while grabbing something to drink.  It makes you uneasy, to see someone who knows everyone at your school.  Your arms cross as you move to leave, until his voice speaks over the music once again.

“What brings a girl like you to a place like this?”  It makes you realize just how close he’s managed to get to you, lips near your ear as though his presence engulfs you.  “Careful, princess, or you just might get devoured.”

“I--”  a short-lived stammer as he turns and throws an arm over your shoulders, causing you to tense.

“S’okay!  I’ll be but a chaperone so you aren’t found dead by sunrise.”

“Wait,” just barely croaked out, and obviously no hindrance as he begins dragging you from the corner and into the rest of the party.

He takes you down the stairs, a bouncy lack of care going into his lengthened strides and whether or not you were able to keep up.  You hold onto him, sliding an arm around his waist to try and keep balance while staring down at the floor to make sure you weren’t about to fall over.

At the bottom level is what managed to always ignite a feeling of excitement in you, set ablaze the adrenaline and flames of hardy teenage violence.  A mosh pit had formed and the destruction stopped just shy of the stairs.  In the air is the heavy scent of leather, sweat, and iron; all of which attacking with the force of animalistic glee.  The air feels heavy, like it’s weighing down on your shoulders.  Timidly, you steal a glance up at Patrick, who’s managed to get a lit cigarette betwixt his fingers and discard his drink in the time you’d been adhered to his side.  He takes a long drag and licks his lips, smoke emulating the carnage of a dragon, if you could compare him to such a beast.

He looks down at you and says something you’re unable to hear over the music, and had it not been for the sheer volume, you’d likely find it to be one of the more enjoyable acts to grace Derry with its presence.  His arm unwinds from around your shoulder and he plants a kiss on your forehead, to which has you reeling, before stepping into the pit and leaving you alone.

It feels unnerving, to suddenly be rid of the boy who’d claimed himself the role of your ‘evening security blanket,’ but to suddenly fear the repercussions.  Eyes you know are locked on opponents or the evening’s stand feel locked on you, and you feel socially naked at the foot of the basement’s stairs with both hands wrapped around a red solo cup.

You gulp after losing sight of him among the dim room and other black-haired aggressors, taking to maneuvering yourself to a couch sat beside a grandfather clock on the outskirts of the fighting and staring into the lukewarm cup.  Sips are taken from it, carefully, while a couple does what you can only describe as practically eating one another’s faces.

As time passes you begin to feel more cramped, not so much that eyes are on you any longer, but more so that the time to leave is rapidly approaching.  A brief glance at the clock registers it as 11:50 p.m., and you feel a slight pang in your gut that the time to move is now.  

You set the plastic cup on the coffee table in front of you and start off, without much of a care for who would be the poor soul to clean it up.  The stairs are ascended quickly, and alarms in your mind begin to go off fervently.  Wherever your evening’s chaperone had gone, he wasn’t worth getting potentially arrested for.  The kitchen and living room are passed briskly, and while the quick removal of such loud noises is nothing short of disorienting, the sound of approaching sirens is enough to sober you completely.

The yard is left in the dust as you take to a full-sprint down the street, mentally cursing yourself for even coming in the first place.  Wherever the authorities were, you knew that potentially crossing paths with them would be a death wish.

You only slow down and exhale when you’re in your car seat, key jammed in the ignition and letting the engine roar to life.  Speeding home probably wouldn’t be the best course of action, but you can’t help the lead foot and lady luck allowing you to swing into the driveway with no detection.

Is this true nirvana, you wonder, narrowly escaping the law after a gut feeling in a place you weren’t even meant to be?  Whatever the case, you knew sleep would either be impossible to grasp, or come the moment it hit your pillow.

[disinvited-guest]

12/31/2018 Philadelphia Recap

The wait for this show was absolutely wonderful, as I got to reunite with old concert-going pals (in case you were wondering, @monopuffstan and @integrityproject remain as wonderful as ever) and meet several new ones.  Even if the concert hadn’t been absolutely wonderful, hanging out with all of these awesome folks would almost have been worth the trip itself.  

We had a wonderful, if cold and soggy, wait.  Flans walked right through our line to get to the venue with a polite “excuse me.”  I happened to be one of the people in his way and I shuffled to the side, mortified.

Once we got inside, things became a bit less jovial.  I did not get along with the people to my right, who were more than a little drunk. I’m not going to include their antics in the recap, but they did have a negative effect on how much I could hear and see of what was going on onstage.  Reminder:  there is a bootleg of this show floating around, so you can listen to what I missed.

JoCo came onstage at 9:20 sharp  wearing a tuxedo with a very stylish bow-tie.  After playing Artificial Heart, he commented faux-disapprovingly on what the crowd was wearing “I thought this was a party!”  He told us he had never played a show in a tux before and was worried for two reasons:  that it would restrict his range of motion, and that he would sweat through it in 5 minutes.

He played Shop Vac, then mopped his face with a towel and warned us that it was happening.  Someone shouted at him that he should take off his suit, and he responded that there was “nothing underneath.”

The crowd cheered at this, but JoCo responded that we were cheering now, but “after, you’d be disgusted” and that he’d be all over the internet the next day as a “weird asshole.”  

Introducing Future Soon, he told us that instead of looking back on 2018 we should look forward into the Future.  Afterwards, he took of his bowtie, warning the crowd that this was “As far as I’ll go.”  He introduced the next song as being about getting old and being sad about being old “but that’s okay,” which led into Glasses.

“I have a new album,” he told us after the song ended, “It’s called Solid State and that’s all I’m gonna say about that.” When the crowd cheered in response, he gave a world-weary sigh and continued in a grudging voice. “Of course we need a concept album about sci-fi.”  He sighed again, then added “And how the internet kind of sucks now.”  Another sigh “And how technology will either destroy us or save us.  One last huge sigh and then “And I’m sorry, but there’s a companion graphic novel.”  With the crowd cheering counterpoint to each on of his sighs, it was truly hilarious.

While messing with the laptop he had onstage, JoCo told us that “The album makes a lot of bleep bloop sounds.  This is just a normal acoustic guitar.  It doesn’t make bleep bloop sounds, so I brought out this.  This is a computer.”

The computer made excellent bleep bloop sounds as JoCo played All This Time.  Putting his guitar down after the song was over, JoCo picked up the machine with knobs and buttons all over it (If you haven’t seen him play Fancy Pants on this thing, my description isn’t going to do it justice. I’m begging you to look it up on YouTube.)  He warned us that on this machine “Even when I’m well-rehearsed, I’m barely hanging on.”

He immediately put the lie to his words by showing off a bit of what the machine was programmed for.  He then explained the song, verse by verse, before actually going into the song.  I was unprepared for just how glorious it was.  He added a bit of Auld Lang Syne into it, singing along a bit before declaring that no one knew the words anyway, and a bit of Single Ladies, and topped it all off by having the machine tell us “Gonna be the best in everybody’s pants.”

After returning to his guitar, JoCo brought up his wife, which got a cheer from a few people in the crowd.  “Some fans of my wife here,” he said, bemused, before moving on with his story.  

Apparently, before he met his wife, she wanted a tattoo, but didn’t have a particular one in mind.  “Which I later learned was typical of her, to have a goal in mind without considering the steps in between.”  She looked through the books in the parlor, “like

at a barbershop” JoCo explained to us, and picked out one she liked.  She got the tattoo, but regretted it.  Once he and his wife had started dating- “and I had an opportunity to see it,”  he added in wickedly, getting a cheer from the crowd-  he asked her about it and she grumbled that it was stupid, and she had just wanted the idea of a tattoo.  Recently though, his wife went in again and got quotes put around the tattoo, so now it is actually a tattoo of the idea of a tattoo.  All this talk of tattoos led, of course, into the song Your Tattoo.

JoCo mentioned that They Might Be Giants would be on his cruise, but that it was too late to buy tickets because it was sold out.  He told us it was a missed opportunity and that we should have followed his blog.  He then introduced the next song, I Feel Fantastic as a “song about how you’ve all made me feel tonight, but it’s also about being on drugs.”

Afterwards, he left the stage as we cheered.  After a few seconds, Flans came onstage, a scrap of paper in his hand.  The crowd’s cheering greatly increased.  He came up to the mic and announced “The owner of a blue Dodge Neon double-parked in front of the venue. Move your car or you will be towed.” The paper in his hand did say something about the car, so I have no doubt it was there, but somehow the context made it hilarious.  Having gotten all car-related news out of the way, Flans announced “Jonathan Coulton, everybody!” leaving stage as we cheered JoCo back on.  

JoCo thanked everyone, then had us practice our “part” for Re: Your Brains.  The first time around was too good.  He explained “Zombies get distracted.  They can only think about how much they want brains.  Some weren’t good singers to start with and rotting doesn’t help.”  Our next attempt was much better/worse, so he started into the song.  Afterwards, he thanked everyone once more and left the stage.

Immediately, that same stage was swarmed by the crew.  I got a glimpse of Fresh’s socks, which were full-color prints of a basketball player in the middle of a slam-dunk.  There was no riser for Curt, confirming that he wasn’t there.

The intro music came on quickly, followed by the band.  There was very little banter at this show.  I think they were worried about what point in the show they would take their break for midnight.  They played their first several songs without pause, starting out with The Communists Have The Music, then Twisting and I got a mouthed  “hi!” and a smile from Danny.  During Why Does the Sun Shine, Linnell told us that everything on the sun was a gas “copper, things that aren’t gas, iron, and even gas.”  He told us he was doing a voice so that “the tone of voice makes you think I’m condescending and impatient.”

They played Birdhouse in Your Soul, then went into Particle Man pausing only long enough for Linnell to grab his accordion.  He didn’t add another song into the interlude, simply switching into a minor key for a description of triangle man.  During the Famous Polka, Dan and Linnell executed a wonderfully in-synch kick (though not nearly as high as the Flans kick photo that’s been going around from that evening).  The audience all contributed to the song, chiming in with a fair imitation of the “doop-doop”s the bridge has in the recorded version.  It was one of those crazy-beautiful moments of serendipity you only get at tmbg shows.

After Famous Polka ended, they had the first banter of the evening.  Discussing his day, Flans told us all a story about his stop at a Popeyes next to a museum he had visited.  At the Popeyes, he was waiting next to two women and a man speaking “not-from-this-country” Italian.  He then pointed out to the guy that Popeyes! also spells ‘Pope yes!’ and the group found it hilarious (after the guy translated the joke to his companions).  Flans felt like it was a great start to the the year, and was about to say more but broke off to add to his story.  Apparently one of the women “the only English word she knew was ‘leg’” had done the Pope blessing thing with a chicken leg.  Flans demonstrated the motion to us, then said that in the new year he wanted “less of this-” miming pushing something away, “and more of this-” repeating the chicken-leg blessing.

Linnell decided that there were “little dramas like that going on at every stop on the turnpike.”  He decided that at the Molly Pitcher stop they were chanting “We want a pitcher not a chicken-leg itcher”  This prompted them both to start listing stops on the turnpike, some real and some decidedly not.  Eventually, they decided they were losing the crowd with all of their outdated references.  Flans asked Linnell if he was still jetlagged.  Linnell responded that he was, then explained to us that he was still on Scotland time, where “it is very late at night right now.”

“That’s what this next song is about!” and they started into Memo to Human Resources.  I was so excited that it took me a few lines to calm down enough to actually pay attention to the song.  I’d been chasing it all year and honestly thought I’d never hear it live.

Flans introduced the next song quickly “We have a new album out.  It’s called I Like Fun and this is I Left My Body.”  From there they went straight into Science is Real.  It was the first time I’d seen them play it without Flans using a cheat-sheet for the lyrics, and he did mumble a few of the words he forgot.

I believe it was here Linnell brought up Clara Barton as another potential stop on the turnpike, and both Johns began asking the crowd about the nature of the stops; if there were criteria for naming them, if there was a list of stops, etc.  

Eventually, Flans introduced Dan Miller on the keyboards “anything is possible!”  Dan extended his index finger like he was going to play a note, then pulled it back, shaking his head.  Danny watched the whole process with extreme interest.

“Don’t mess with those dials.” Flans told Dan.

They played Let’s Get This Over With and Doctor Worm, during which Flans was a bit distracted, looking of stage a lot, and even heading off once or twice.  During the Doctor Worm solo, Danny had to cover a bit of his part.  

Flans came back downstage and they played Robot Parade, starting slow and gradually becoming more and more rocking.  Flans attempted a human theremin during this song.  He gave the audience 15 seconds “for people who know what a theremin is to explain to people who don’t know what a theremin is.”  He then counted down the 15 seconds.  I’m not sure how much explaining was done, as a large portion of the crowd counted down the 15 seconds with him. He then gave a brief explanation and began.  It didn’t work super well and he wrapped things up quickly, but it was fun to be a part of.

Next up was a quick introduction to Trouble Awful Devil Evil, and it was also when my asthma started acting up.  I used my inhaler and when I refocused on the stage Danny was watching, presumably to make sure I was okay.    After Linnell put down his little clarinet for Trouble Awful Devil Evil, Flans briefly introduced him on the Contra Alto Clarinet before they played All Time What.  

Flans had Dan play a note on his guitar to show off the synthesizer, which Linnell claimed could “make a guitar sound like any instrument.”  Dan made a face and Flans amended “Well, any instrument purchased at a Radio Shack.”

They played We Want a Rock, then went straight into Bills Bills Bills.  During the start of the song, Dan posed next to Danny, guitar held at a precise angle, foot tapping.  He then nudged Danny and demonstrated the pose for him until Danny copied the pose and played that way together for a few bars.

Afterwards, Flans told us that the count-offs for the evening were “provided by Al Gore.”  He then proceeded to explain to us that they had seen other bands start without count offs and had been really impressed, but then “we switched and no one noticed.”

“Until now,” Linnell told him.

The two debated whether or not it was too technical for the audience to understand, but then Flans decided we were pretty smart “Three-fourths of them knew what a theremin was,” and they played Letterbox.  

They moved from Letterbox into Spy.  The ending was as fascinating as always, with Flans and Linnell each adding their bit, but rather than actually ending the song, they simply transitioned straight into Dan’s intro to Istanbul.  It was great to see the song getting the full Dan Miller treatment once again.  He was truly amazing.  At one point, he was playing one-handed, just plucking at the frets, at another point, he pointed to the crowd for a cheer before continuing on.  He even attempted to trick the rest of the band into thinking he was wrapping things up (they all got ready to start) before continuing on for another several seconds.  The whole thing was glorious.

During the song itself, Danny gave me a goofy look, and I snorted in response, then immediately covered my nose, embarrassed. Danny cracked up laughing and walked away.  During one of the fake endings, in the space where Dan and Curt had ‘battled’ in other 2018 shows, Dan and Danny did the same for a bit, switching off for a few lines, which was amazing.

As the song was wrapping up, Flans went around getting everyone's attention and wiggling his outstretched fingers at them.  This marked their departure from the setlists and led, accurately and amusingly, into Fingertips.

During I’m Having A Heart Attack, Flans did his boy band bit, but instead of facing the audience for it, addressed off stage right, where I had noticed Robin hanging out in the wings earlier.  I don’t know if she was still there, so I’m not sure if it was intentional or not.  

Dan did the first of the two whispered “Fingertips” without incident, but as he was about to repeat himself, a guy in the crowd shouted “Fingertips!” in the near-silent room.  Dan pointed in his direction and steps back from the mic and the band moved on to I Walk Along Darkened Corridors.

They went straight into The Guitar from there.  Trying to get close enough to midnight, they ended it with a big solo for Danny which was absolutely amazing!  Danny never gets enough time to shine in my personal but admittedly biased opinion and this was an amazing chance to see all that he could do.  Dan and Linnell stood next to each other behind the keyboard to watch Danny.  Dan looked over to Marty, keeping time on his set, and motioned to him that he stunk, pinching his nose and grinning.  Marty must have responded with a worried look because Dan immediately waved it off and gave him a thumbs up.  Linnell did the double point to his eyes and then to Marty in an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture.  

Danny’s solo was truly amazing, it was well over a minute in length and just when you thought it couldn’t get more awesome, it did.  The whole thing was made even more interesting by the fact that, since it was somewhat to stall for time until midnight, every so often Danny would glance over at Flans to check how much longer he wanted him to keep going.  Eventually, they wrapped up the song and a sweat soaked Danny accepted a new water bottle from Fresh while toweling off his face.

There was still more than a minute before midnight when The Guitar wrapped up.  Linnell decided we should “take a moment to remember the people in the crowd we lost along the way.”  The Johns went back and forth on this idea for a while, with Flans mourning “the people who were brought by their friends and are never coming again.”

Eventually they brought up a projection that had instructions for counting down, screaming for 2019, the words to Auld Lang Syne, etc.  The countdown was started at 15 seconds to midnight, but the crowd started out too slow, and in trying to catch up began counting too fast.  We overshot our goal and began celebrating the New Year a second or two too early.  They played Auld Lang Syne into an absolute explosion of confetti as things onstage devolved into an absolutely beautiful chaos.  Fresh, who was helping the confetti tech load the cannon, was eventually pushed out of the process by an incredibly enthusiastic Flans, who loaded the cannon at double speed and moved it back and forth so it would hit everybody.  The confetti got absolutely everywhere, covering the stage and the crowd for the rest of the show.  

Onstage was an absolute hugfest.  Danny hugged Dan, then went over behind the drum riser to hug Marty.  Fresh got a hug from Marty then ran offstage pumping his arms like he’d just won a prize.  Dan lifted Marty off of his feet while hugging him.  There was evidently champagne offstage as someone later set the bottle on an amp.  Flans chugged some directly from the bottle.

As the last of the confetti settled, Flans took the fan that was set up onstage and began using it to clear off some of layer of confetti coating absolutely everything, making a joke about needing a clear stage.  Danny scooped up big handfuls and ran around throwing them over people in the crowd.  At one point, Marty saw him at it and asked why he hadn’t thrown any confetti over his head.  Danny eventually obliged, although he waited until the encore when Marty wasn’t expecting it.  Linnell had the opposite problem, seeing Danny carrying a handful of confetti and worrying it was meant for him.  Danny saw his worried expression and indicated it was meant for the crowd and Linnell relaxed.  The crowd itself was also throwing big crumpled handfuls of the stuff, which packed a bit more of a punch than the drifting flakes, and just about everyone, onstage and in the crowd, got hit by one of the clumps.

Eventually, Flans brought the show back into motion.  He thanked the band, the crew, and the crowd then told us they had a few more songs.  They played Dead, a poignant counterpoint to the beautiful insanity preceding it, with Dan Miller watching from the wings.  At one point he waved to someone in my general section of the crowd, but when I turned around to look, I couldn’t see anyone looking in his direction.  He came back on for Man It’s So Loud In Here, which was introduced as the last song of the night.  They left the stage after that, leaving us to cheer for their return.  You could tell that people were tired.  While the crowd kept up it’s cheering before each encore, a lot of the wild enthusiasm usually present was lacking.

The first encore began with Mrs. Bluebeard, which I’m always happy to hear live.  Dan Miller got the bit he had been so frustrated with in the fall without any problems, and was clearly pleased with himself.  Flans thanked everyone once again and they played Damn Good Times, with Dan wow-ing the crowd with another amazing solo.

Flans, Linnell, and Marty were the only ones returning to the stage for the second encore, soon followed by John Carter and Fresh carrying out the glockenspiel.   Fresh and Marty had another mallet spin-off, with Fresh having improved his game since the Buffalo show, but Marty still the clear victor.  

They played Shoehorn With Teeth, with all due decorum going into the playing of the glockenspiel. Flans forgot which verse he was starting at one point, starting partway into the first line.

After the song was over, Flans told us that they didn’t know where the other tassel was.  Linnell decided that the number of tassels showed how skilled the glockenspiel player was, and that you had tassels removed as you moved up the levels.  Marty, he explained, was a one tassel player, but would eventually have the other tassel removed.  Fresh, back onstage to remove the glockenspiel, made a big show of acting like he was removing the remaining tassel and then ‘changing his mind’ and leaving it.

By then, Dan and Danny had returned to the stage.  Flans told us all that this was the last song “for real now.  Last time we were lying.”

“This is the song we like to do last.”

They played the Mesopotamians, then left the stage for the final time.

As soon as they were gone, Fresh was out onstage, assisting the girl next to me who had lost her glasses over the railing towards the end of the show.  Her efforts to retrieve them had made me feel less than charitable about the whole situation, but it was wonderful how prepared Fresh was to help her.  While Flans, Danny, and Marty were passing out stickers and setlists, Flans even brought over his fan to blow away some of the confetti from the spot and make finding the glasses easier, eventually handing the fan to Fresh so he could continue the search.

I didn’t quite cry leaving, but it was a near thing.  I hope for many more concerts to come, but since have to take a break from my touring habit, this show was a wonderful high note to end on.

[doomedandstoned]

To Helltown & Back: Electric Citizen’s Laura Dolan Speaks

~By Jamie LaRose~

Photographs by Sally Townsend

My recent visit with Laura Dolan, the commanding winger of Cincinnati’s Electric Citizen, was both enlightening and welcomed. She is a vegan, a lover of classic cars, and a well-experienced thrift store fashionista. I remember meeting Laura in 2014, when Satyress had the pleasure of playing a show with Electric Citizen and Fu Manchu at Dante’s in Portland, Oregon. I found the band to be a delightful, friendly, and talented bunch. Electric Citizen is currently on tour with Monster Magnet in support of the new album, 'Helltown' (2018 - RidingEasy Records). Their third album is reminiscent of their first, 'Sateen' (2014), with its raw, powerful sound. This is a great Cincinnati Northside-true album, written, recorded, engineered, and inspired by “Hell Town” itself. Get your dose of heavy psychedelic healing at one of the tour dates listed below and get your copy of Helltown while you're at it!

I don’t know if you remember, it’s been a while, but we’ve played a show together. It was the Fu Manchu show in Portland, Oregon in May of 2014.

I thought so! Yes, I remember your band. You were wonderful.

You, too! I remember meeting you and talking with you about essential oils.

I remembered it was Pentagram or Fu Manchu because we played the same venue, it was at Dante’s.

All of us at Doomed & Stoned are excited to get the chance to talk to you at this time of your new release 'Helltown.' I was interested in the meaning behind the name of the album and the band. I read that “Hell Town” is one of the names by which the neighborhood you live in is known. I would like to know a little bit about the relationship between that and the writing process for the band on this album.

Absolutely. I chose that name for several different reasons. I mean the most obvious is the translation of where the album was written and practiced, recorded. It just kind of made sense to pay homage to that. I also like that it can also take on these multiple meanings, which is something I really try to do with songwriting, as well. It can be a futuristic thing, or it could play into current times.

Helltown by Electric Citizen

As far as what our neighborhood means to us is this is where everything happens. The studio where we record is a stone’s throw away from our house, which is also where we practice and write all the music. It’s just this really great little neighborhood which is unique in Cincinnati where there’s a lot of different ethnic groups, and there’s a lot of artists, the LGBTQ community is strong here. All of these different types of people that we are surrounded by are hugely inspiring to me. I just have this very special place in my heart for this neighborhood, and the guys share the same sentiment. "Hell Town" is a nickname that was more commonly used in the 1800s when it was an entertainment district for the factory workers because we are in a very industrial area. So this is where they would go and hang out after they got off work from the factories and it was just known as "Hell Town." There were so many different things about it that are so meaningful that it just makes it the perfect title for this album.

Where do you find or draw inspiration in the process for the band or when writing any music in general?

I like to start by writing a track and feeling out where it’s going from the melody standpoint, and then trying to craft something meaningful into that. The melody is such a hugely important part of the song. There’s so much to draw inspiration from like today’s political state, relationships between people, our current times. I feel fascinated by the idea that we are living in this huge turning point, the dawn of the era of technology and how that’s affecting us as a human race. That’s something I love exploring. Every day is like an episode of Black Mirror. What’s going to happen to us? There are so many things happening right now that we’ve never experienced as the human race.

I can hear that questioning nature of inspiration in the lyrics and music. What type of challenges might you face while working together and making and recording music together?

Well, we’re pretty lucky in that we get along. That’s something I don’t take for granted because we’ve had a few different change-ups in the lineup, and we’re now kind of back to where we were at the beginning of the band. We had a great time with our other bass player, but the dynamic can be very different. Having the energy of the original band, and the relationships we all have with each other is a huge help as far as writing and making the music, as well as enjoying the process the whole way. I think we make it harder on ourselves by choosing to record analog; that’s definitely a much more tedious task than recording digitally. We have a pretty standardized process where Ross writes the basics of the song, and then we all start layering on top of that using a huge amount of editing. I think it’s a really important quality to have to be able to stand back and say, “You know what, I’ve created something and it sucks,” and I’m going to scrap it and try again. I think that self-reflection is really important.

It is the universal nature of some good work to be thorough. Speaking of the process of the mixing and the engineering, can you explain a bit about that process as used in the new album?

Unlike the process of the second album which may have been a bit more polished than we would mean, we knew on the third album that we wanted to try to capture what we had in the first album.

It sounds like everything about 'Helltown' was done in “Hell Town.” From the new tracks, I can see its relationship to the first album in its grittiness and more natural nature. What are the details of the release?

The album official release date is September 28th. It’s being released worldwide through Riding Easy Records. There is distribution all of the world, you can get it at Riding Easy Records in the states and of course we are also starting a tour with Monster Magnet on the same day so you can come get it from us at the merch booth.

What are some of your most successful accomplishments so far as a group?

Beyond what we’ve created, which is really the whole reason we’ve started doing this, I think that some of the bands we’ve gotten to tour with have been a huge accomplishment. There’s been Arthur Brown, a long-time hero he is the godfather of shock rock. He’s inspired so many different artists. We’ve opened for King Diamond, Joan Jett, Fu Manchu and this tour with Monster Magnet is a big deal for us. That’s a band that’s really made a name for themselves. Getting to tour Europe, I personally had never been over there before touring as a band. It’s great to go into a project like this having no expectations, and then having all these things happening. Every single one of them has kind of been mind-blowing for us. That’s one of the things I’ve learned growing older, have no expectations and life will exceed them all.

How have you grown as a singer and artist over the years?

When I was first starting out, singing in bands, I had such a fear for doing what I’m doing. As soon as I was able to release that and have the fearlessness of, “If I fail, I fail. If I don’t, I don’t.”, I would encourage anyone that’s going into any form of art; remember to have that fearlessness. It’s so freeing. I feel like that’s such an important message, especially to young girls that are interested in doing this and following in our footsteps, singing in a band or whatever it is. It’s just, "You have nothing to fear except fear itself!"

What is your message to the universe?

Oh wow, that’s a good one. Hmm, that is such an important question. I think really for me it comes down to… just be kind to each other. Everybody in this world is fighting their own fight, and I think it’s so important to remember to give room for people to behave like they do because you just don’t know what��s going on with their life. I think that ultimately what this world needs more than anything right now is kindness. I guess it would be just as simple as that. Be kind to each other. Maybe to ask everyone to love each other is too much, but if you can’t find that in your heart, just be kind.

Electric Citizen & Monster Magnet on Tour

10/02 - Chicago, IL @ Bottom Lounge 10/03 - Minneapolis, MN @ Cabooze 10/05 - Denver, CO @ Bluebird Theater 10/06 - Salt Lake City, UT @ Urban Lounge 10/08 - Portland, OR @ Hawthorne Theater 10/09 - Vancouver, BC @ Commodore Ballroom 10/10 - Seattle, WA @ El Corazon 10/12 - San Francisco, CA @ Thee Parkside 10/15 - Santa Ana, CA @ The Observatory 10/16 - San Diego, CA @ Brick By Brick 10/17 - Phoenix, AZ @ Rebel Lounge 10/19 - San Antonio, TX @ Paper Tiger 10/20 - Dallas, TX @ Canton Hall 10/21 - Houston, TX @ White Oak Music Hall 10/23 - Atlanta, GA @ The Masquerade 10/24 - Nashville, TN @ Basement East 10/26 - Baltimore, MD @ Baltimore Soundstage 10/27 - New York, NY @ Gramercy Theatre 10/28 - Cambridge, MA @ The Sinclair

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[janiedean]

I know ur busy celebrating kit and rose's wedding (like the rest of the world), but would be able to tell me how realistic missendei's language skills are, and what her limitations would be? Like, would she be able to understand different dialects and regional slang of languages, or people with really heavy accents, and would she understand the meaning of phrases like 'break a leg' that mean different thing to what they say? (Idk how to put it) 1/2

2/2 Also how do u think missendei learned each new language? From native speakers or from other translators? And also (this could be my own language learning experience) how would she have become so good if she hadn't practiced the language in its country? (FYI I'm learning Indonesian, I did great in class, went on exchange and couldn't understand more then a few words in conversations on the street and w native speakers). Also what kind of knowledge of each culture would missendei posses?

well I’m not an interpreter and I’m not the greatest missandei expert ever but, first of all let’s make it clear that she has a different background for show and books, ie c/p-ed from the show’s wiki:

Missandei was born on the island of Naath in the Summer Sea, off the coast of the continent of Sothoryos. She was enslaved at a young age and taken to Slaver's Bay in Essos, where she was eventually put to work as an interpreter for the slaver-master Kraznys mo Nakloz, one of the Good Masters of Astapor.Missandei speaks nineteen languages including High Valyrian (her favorite), the Low Valyrian dialect of Slaver's Bay, Dothraki, the Common Tongue of Westeros, and has some knowledge of the functionally dead language of the Ghiscari Empire.

in the book she knows the common tongue, high valyrian, bastard valyrian and ghiscari, which is a lot less than nineteen. now, there’s people who speak more or at least know more than nineteen - I looked it up and there’s an american linguist who apparently has knowledge of at least sixty - but realistically:

if you count dialects as different languages or so on it’s absolutely possible that she knows that many - I mean, if she knows two different valyrians she might know other variations. that said, in the book again she knows four one of which is a dead language and like.... I know italian, mother tongue english, I can more or less translate two dead languages and I read french, we’re pretty much there and I’m not that much of a language coinnesseur X°D

that said when it comes to how much: if she learned through reading and not listening (obvious case for the dead language..) then she most likely would know more sayings (ie break a leg) than be good at accents because you have to hear the latter while you can figure out the former but again, I learned english 50% on springsteen/bon jovi and 50% on stephen king and at fifteen I knew more maine slang than the british english I did at school, it depends on your sources so if missandei learned it on books that had sayings in them or from people who spoke that certain slang she’d pick it up;

how she learned: well both wikis agree on astapor’s old maesters so most likely she went to school with them which means that she had a premium education and access to good books/a lot of reading material so most likely mostly books and she prob. had the same teachers apprentice maesters had;

knowledge of culture: again, depends on what she learned/got in contact with.

meaning, I’m using myself as an example because it works for this context and also replies to your ‘but how about contact with the natives’ question: my english is currently C2 - ie, same as a mother tongue - and I never in my life had regular contact with english natives outside the internet. I learned everything a) reading books, b) translating songs, c)  watching movies without the dub, d) reading/writing fanfic. I didn’t need to have contact directly with english people because I was covering it with other stuff - okay, admittedly my accent sucks ass because I didn’t have practice there but it still wasn’t enough to fuck over my CPE vote since I got out with an A anyway X°D and like: I read/consumed mostly american media and by the time I was sixteen I had a probably enviable background in a) new jersey state-specific culture, b) maine and new jersey slang, c) nebraska’s geography (REALLY blame springsteen for that), d) vietnam war basic facts AND vietnam war-related slang, e) certain specific brands of humor that’s not funny outside nyc, f) a lot of other weirdly specific stuff that was tied to US culture. on the other side, since I wasn’t dabbling in the UK side of it, I wasn’t that knowledgeable on the topic, which meant that if I watched a US movie I most likely understood most characters whichever accent they had unless they were speaking heavy slang, if I watched idk full monty I didn’t understand shit and I still find british accents way more complicated than american accents. also, when I started watching the wire I couldn’t understand 70% of the lingo, five seasons later I could probably get by in baltimore if people spoke slang-ish to me. and so on. it all depends on what you’re exposed to. if I got into english thanks to idk doctor who and/or dunno some british band, OASIS?, I probably would know more about britain/the uk than the US and instead the only thing re the UK that’s not like political that I’m 100% sure I have a full background on when it comes to cultural stuff is the state of record shops in the 90s and a few stuff about football clubs thanks nick hornby I love you for that. anyway: you can absolutely learn someplace’s slang, culture and nuances without ever setting foot there, it depends on where you learn the language, so if she was exposed to it or some when it comes to those languages, most likely. otherwise she most probably has a scholarly knowledge and so she wouldn’t know the specifics or the accents, but it depends on how she learned it of course. but you can absolutely become v. good at a language without being in that country X°D I mean I never set foot in an english-speaking country for more than three weeks on vacation and I’ve never been to the US, hasn’t stopped me from - according to the internet - pronounce like someone from nj and have a word choice like someone from maine apparently X°D

tldr: she’s good because she practiced a lot most likely, and had a top notch instruction for westeros and had a gift for languages. but if we go with the book version it’s absolutely normal to know three/four languages (again, for one my mother had this colleague in bruxelles who was italian with a french wife, but the kid was gonna have to learn english in school and also dutch/flemish since they lived in belgium, so that kid most likely spoke four languages currently by the time he was fifteen X°D) and if we go with show version nineteen is a bit much but absolutely doable especially if some are variations of others. :) hopefully this was clear XD

(also: watch a lot of indonesian movies without a dub and translate by hand indonesian lyrics/music, might sound stupid but for me it worked wonders ;) )

[lovemesomesurveys]

5,000 question survey series--part thirty-six

3401. How well can you read between the lines when others are talking? I don’t know. I feel like I’m pretty good at reading people and picking up on what they’re saying.

3402. Would you ever speak in front of your peers about peace and social injustice? I don’t want to speak in front of people about anything.

3403. Where does peace begin? With yourself.

3404. Does Aamerica practice the ideals it preaches? Like any of us, we don’t always practice what we preach. We have our issues as a country for sure.

If yes when and where?

If not, why not?

3405. In conversations do you assume that you know what will be said? It doesn’t usually go how I think it might.

If yes, isn't this a form of closing yourself off to new ideas? Like it said, it doesn’t usually go how I think it will. I don’t like follow or a script or anything. Conversations veer off in all kinds of directions.

3406. In what ways are you closed minded? I think I’m generally pretty open minded about a lot of things.

3407. do you prefer beans or rice? Beans and Mexican rice are good.

3408. who's a better tv dad?--dr. huxtable (bill cosby) or danny tanner? Bill Cosby is disgusting.

3409. detroit or new york? New York.

3410. What's your favourite Star Wars movie? All of ‘em.

3411. What's your favourite Star Trek movie? I don’t like Star Trek.

3412. How about Batman? Batman v Superman and the Justice League movies.

Indiana Jones? I’ve never watched them.

Lord of the rings? I never could get into those.

harry potter? Prisoner of Azkaban.

star wars? You asked this already.

3413. If you could ask one question and one question only to the following people, what would that question be:

Saddam Hussain?

George W Bush?

John Lennon?

an alien?

God?

Someone you knew who has died?

Steven Speilberg?

JD Salinger?

3414. Have you seen AI (artificial intelligence)? No.

If yes, what were the beings at the end of the movie?

Do you see this as a possible future for humanity?

What'd you think in general?

3415. If a-l-k-a-s-e-l-t-z-e-r spells 'relief' how do you spell:

love? G-O-D.

happiness? D-O-G-S.

evil? S-A-T-A-N.

sexyness? A-L-E-X-A-N-D-E-R   S-K-A-R-S-G-A-R-D

yummy? C-O-F-F-E-E

3416. Have you ever been to a Braodway show? Yes.

What one? Phantom of the Opera.

3417. Nighttime shows or matines (sp?)? Whichever.

3418. How are your family get-togethers, loud and rambunctios or quiet and formal? Maybe a bit loud, but not too wild. We have a good time.

3419. Would you be able to survive shippwrecked alone on a desert island? No.

3420. Speaking of islands, does Gilligan EVER get off his? Does he? I don’t know how it ends.

3421. What movie has the BEST soundtrack? There’s a few.

3422. Do you ever go into chat rooms? No, not since like the early 2000s.

If yes, what ones? I went into kid and teen chats.

3423. Is english your first language? Yes.

If not...How you say hello in your language:

another word in your language + english translation:

boob in your language:

3424. Make up a religion (make it up): No.

what would it believe:

3425. Create your own country-

Name of country: Sleepyland.

Ethnic background: It would be a diverse country.

Language (make it up): Zees. lol you know, like Zzz.

Other details:

3426. How would you celebrate these holidays?

Dogs in Politics day: Promote adopt not shop and banning puppy mills.

Magic circles day: Be bald and free day: National mole day: Skin cancer awareness and encouraging people to check for any suspicious moles.

Syliva plath day: Read her poetry.

Increase your psychic powers day: I don’t believe in psychics.

Waiting for the barbarians day:

Air day:

3427. -Why do you think Steve got kicked off Blue's Clues: He didn’t get kicked off, he left because he had cancer.

3428. Hooked on heroin or hooked on phonics? Uh, phonics.

3429. -Have you ever taken an insanity quiz and said, "Hay, thats a good idea!" No.

3430. - Have you ever covered yourself in blood and layed down on the side of the road to make it look like you were in an accident? Um, no.

You don't know what you're missing. Wtf.

3431. Can you flare your nostrils? Sure.

3432. -do you want to swim in a vast lake of gatorade? or, any other beverage for that matter? No thanks.

3433. -have you ever sneezed at the same time everyday, consecutively, for over 3 months? No, omg. That would be awful.

3434. -how did the first person discover that pigs feet would be so good that we call them a delicacy? I don’t know.

3435. -why did the first person to ever eat pigs feet eat them? You’d have to go back in time and ask them.

3436. -do you like the idea of 'like father, like son'? Sure? Unless the father is horrible or something.

3437. Put the following musical acts in order from best to worst by numbering them..(1 for best, 2 for 2nd best, etc... 20 for worst).

Avril:

Ashanti:

Joan Jett:

David Bowie:

the Bee Gees:

The Doors:

Tool:

DMX:

Iggy Pop:

Creed:

Weezer:

Ministry:

Thursday:

Kittie:

Adam Ant:

Rancid:

the Clash:

Led Zeppelin:

Moby:

Tom Waites:

3438. Would you rather be an evil dictator or a sitcom family member? What in the world kind of comparison is this? I would be a sitcom family member.

3439. What is the wave of the future? What.

3440. What's your favorite old movie (before 1990)? Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.

3441. When someone tells you that their signifigant other lives REally Far Away..do you ever suspect that they are single and making someone up? Lol not usually, but it would depend on the person.

3442. Alaska or Hawaaii? Oooh. I’d love to visit both.

3443. Why did Kentucky Fried Chicken change their name to KFC? Convenience?

3444. What is there no place to hide from? Your mind.

3445. Which makes you happier, giving presents or getting them? I love giving presents.

3446. What can you never have just one of? Cup of coffee.

3447. What comes to mind when you think of Hulk Hogan? Wrestling.

3448. What would you be the patron saint of? I’m not a saint.

3449. Do you still look at the world with wonder like you did when you were a kid? No. Kids are so curious and easily excitable about everything. I admire that.

3450. For 5 seconds clear your mind. Good. Now write the first thing that you can think of!: Sleep. ha.

3451. When was the last time you ate too much? I don’t know. I used to be such a foodie, but over these past 3 years my issue has become not eating enough.

3452. Describe the sexiest person you can imagine: Alexander Skarsgard. Google him.

3453. What have you seen that's...bizzare? I’ve said that about things, but I can’t think of an example right now.

3454. Are there any stores or brands or products that yoou boycott? Yeah.

3455. Do you want things to REALLY get out of control? No thank you.

3456. Are you too tense? I am.

3457. Where would you be without love and bubblegum? Uhh.

3458. Why aren't comic books popular anymore? For some people it is.

3459. Think of one friend (who?): My dog.

When is the last time you saw each other? Like 30 minutes ago.

Do they smoke? No.

Do they believe in God? Dogs don’t have that kind of awareness.

When you first saw this friend what was your impression? Omg she was so small and cute, but she was really shy and nervous poor thing. When we asked the worker at the shelter if we could pet her, she like slowly crawled out. She wouldn’t stand up and at first we thought she couldn’t. Even for treats she’d just stretch her body to reach them, but wouldn’t get up. You’d never know that now because she’s very goofy, hyper, and playful and goes wild for treats. She takes her Princess name very seriously, too. She can be so demanding when she wants to go on a walk or wants a treat.

Their age? 2.

The top five things you think they think about? Treats. Toys. Playing. Sleep. The boy dogs next door. ha.

3460. Do you say what you mean? I tend to hold back a lot.

Do you mean what you say? Not always. I downplay things a lot, too.

3461. Could you eat meat if you had to hunt it yourself? Eeeek I really don’t think I could. Unless perhaps I was in a situation where I had to and survival instincts kicked in.

3462. Order from greatest to least importance: spirituality, creativity, intellect, great body, open-mindedness, magicalness, great dancer, interesting dresser, wit and cleverness, niceness, stability

3463. Complete the sentence.

When a problem comes along You must: Whip it.

3464. Pick the two most important attributes for food-- fast, cheap, tastey, healthy Tasty and healthy. Though let’s be real for me it’s fast and tasty.

3465. What do you think is the best metaphor for romantic relationships? (e.g. a car wreck, a cruise): I don’t know.

3466. Kittens or no kittens, that is the question. They are quite adorable.

3467. Is gaining 15 lbs in a night possible? That would be very concerning and should definitely be checked out.

3468. Do you get emotional watching movies? Rarely. And if I do, I’ll feel sad and maybe tear up a bit, but I’m not a crier during movies. That’s very rare.

3469. What amkes you feel nostalgic? A lot of things.

3470. Do you feel like you've been misplaced? No.

3471. Have you ever fought someone, just for fun? No. I don’t fight people at all. That’s concerning if you go around fighting people because you find it fun.

3472. What gives you an adrenaline rush? I haven’t felt that in a long time.

3473. What would you do if you loved someone more than anything else, and you could never have them? I know how it feels to be in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same and, well, it sucks to say the least.

3474. Rank these events in order of best/most exciting to boring:

drinking and dancing to your favorite music at a club:

taking a walk in the woods and a bath in a stream:

having great sex:

winning the lottery (one mil):

getting followed home by a stray animal:

meeting someone interesting to talk to:

seeing your favorite band in concert:

seeeing aa broadway show:

halloween:

3475. Can you keep a secret? Yes.

3476. Where is the tenderness? I don’t know, but I like that song.

3477. What's one song you REALLY like from the:

30's?

40's?

50's?

60's?

70's?

80's?

90's?

00's?

3478. Would you rather have a video phone, an electric scooter, or a digital camera? Well, all cell phones now take videos and pictures so I could say video phone and it would cover the digital camera, too.

3479. If a ban on all violent video games was put into effect, would you be outraged by this decision? No.

3480. In your opinion, is violence in society inescapable? Yes.

Why or why not?

3481. Have you ever mimicked a violent “action” from a video game you’ve played towards another person, whether it was to harm or just for play? Nah.

3482. Do you believe the violent content in video games influences aggressive and/or violent behavior in younger children? It can for some people.

3483. What makes life a bitter sweet symphony? “It’s a bittersweet symphony, this life.”

3484. Name four things that aare AWESOME:

3485. What's the most creative/funny answer you can come up with for this question: What are you doing? I got nothin’. I’m literally just doing this and snacking on cheesy tots from Burger King.

3486. Can you imagine this world going on without you? It would get along just fine.

3487. Are you the only person who really exists? No...

3488. Is everyone else a figment of your imagination? No.

3489. Or are YOU a figment of my imagination? Blah.

3490. Can you prove you exist? Hi, here I am.

How?

3491. What do you HAve to get off your chest? Nothing.

3492. If you cheated on someone would you confess to them? I believe I would.

3493. Is it true that at least 5 people in this world love you so much they would die for you? Maybe 3.

Who? My mom, dad, and my younger brother.

3494. Are you in therapy? No, but I definitely should be.

3495. Do you go shopping on black friday? Online.

3496. What is the bane of your existance? fjlksfkdsfls

3497. Better movie: Weird Science or Caddy Shack? Neither one interests me.

3498. Who's the big winner?

3499. What are the 3 funniest:

music videos?

Movies?

songs?

3500. Guess what? Chicken butt.

[peterboumgarden]

Orthodox Pluralist or Benedict Option?

Writing in GQ a number of years back, John Jeremiah Sullivan penned one of my favorite essays on the Christian subculture. Set at the CrossOver Festival in the Lake of the Ozarks, Sullivan’s piece focused on idiosyncrasies in the Christian music scene. The essay is brilliantly constructed from wellhead to burner tip, but I want to focus on a specific part in the middle. This is where Sullivan provides his assessment of the music quality:

The fact that I didn't think I heard a single interesting bar of music from the forty or so acts I caught or overheard at Creation shouldn't be read as a knock on the acts themselves, much less as contempt for the underlying notion of Christians playing rock. These were not Christian bands, you see; these were Christianrock bands. The key to digging this scene lies in that one syllable distinction. Christian rock is a genre that exists to edify and make money off of evangelical Christians. It's message music for listeners who know the message cold, and, what's more, it operates under a perceived responsibility—one the artists embrace—to "reach people." As such, it rewards both obviousness and maximum palatability (the artists would say clarity), which in turn means parasitism. Remember those perfume dispensers they used to have in pharmacies—"If you like Drakkar Noir, you'll love Sexy Musk" Well, Christian rock works like that. Every successful crappy secular group has its Christian offbrand, and that's proper, because culturally speaking, it's supposed to serve as a standing for, not an alternative to or an improvement on, those very groups. In this it succeeds wonderfully. If you think it profoundly sucks, that's because your priorities are not its priorities;

Sullivan’s piece came to mind this last week as I read a number of writers at the New York Times engage with the argument of Rod Dreher’s newest book, The Benedict Option: A Strategy for Christians in a Post-Christian Nation.  At its core, Dreher’s thesis is that if Christians in the West see a deep and destructive misalignment of their worldview with contemporary culture (and they should!), they ought to explore forms of resistance and creative communities set apart from these forces.

Where Dreher sees potential, I fear Christianrock.

But let’s hear him out. What might these forms of community look like, and when does ‘resistance’ make sense? In an astute analysis of the book at Comment, philosopher Jamie Smith quotes the following from Benedict:

In a chapter on employment and work, Dreher takes the commitment to stability in the Benedictine Rule and turns it into a counsel of despair: "We may not (yet) be at the point where Christians are forbidden to buy and sell in general without state approval, but we are on the brink of entire areas of commercial and professional life being off-limits to believers whose consciences will not allow them to burn incense to the gods of our age." These professions, by the way, turn out to be "florists, bakers, and photographers" as well as public school teachers and university professors.

Like Jamie, though perhaps for different reasons, I can’t help but read Dreher and start to feel a bit uncomfortable. At the Times, David Brooks agrees and frames an alternative:  

The right response to the moment is not the Benedict Option, it is Orthodox Pluralism. It is to surrender to some orthodoxy that will overthrow the superficial obsessions of the self and put one’s life in contact with a transcendent ideal. But it is also to reject the notion that that ideal can be easily translated into a pure, homogenized path. It is, on the contrary, to throw oneself more deeply into friendship with complexity, with different believers and atheists, liberals and conservatives, the dissimilar and unalike.

My own wrestling with the tension between a religious worldview and modern culture is deeply personal. I am the son of a midwestern Presbyterian pastor. Much of my youth was spent in the evangelical subculture -- shifting between forms of church and para-church ministry. For college, I went to a school with a conservative bent to theology, though one rooted in a deep belief in the intellectual power of the Christian tradition. Many of my professors believed that their reformed theology implied particular policies in the public square. It is a perspective that has exposed one of its graduates, Betsy Devos, to critique over the last few months. In graduate school at Washington University in St. Louis, my intellectual life continued to evolve. I grew in a desire to pull from my tradition while simultaneously setting it into dialogue with other ways of thinking and seeing the world-- frameworks from empirical social science, evolutionary psychology and biology, and cultural artifacts. And in the “friendship with complexity,” I found companionship. 

The other day, my friend Robert sent me a dialogue between two famed philosophers: Richard Rorty and Nick Wolterstorff. Rorty is the late philosophical pragmatist from Stanford and Wolterstorff a retired reformed epistemologist who spent much of his career at Yale. Taking aim at Rorty’s view that religion is an unhelpful conversation stopper, Wolterstorff reframes an alternative model around the life of Martin Luther King Jr. In King, Wolterstorff finds a man whose viewpoints are deeply informed by faith, but he remains just as conversant across traditions as he is within. In other words, you can’t remove the Christian from King without losing the foundation of his argument; but, nor do you have to leave your alternative assumptions at the door to engage with its essence.

King’s vision is one that I find compelling.

But to see the potential pitfalls of linking worldview to public response, it is helpful to take a step back. Put simply, everyone has a normative view of the world-- an intuitive sense of what is good, true, real, and beautiful. These views are a mix of our cognitive hard wiring towards specific moral responses, as can be seen in the work of Jon Haidt. They are also formed by the cultures we sit within. Some people’s views are shaped within a particular religious community, but perspectives can come from political frameworks like neoliberalism or philosophies like secular humanism. It could even be the “American Sublime�� preferred by Rorty. In the end, the key point is that these views rest upon a set of metaphysical assumptions that are not easily amenable to rational argument. As Wolterstorff concludes in step with Rorty, “I view our human condition as such that we must expect the endurance of such fundamental disagreements.”

When it comes to the public square, these “private” views often hold implications for how a society should be ordered. They are endowed with certain value priorities which bear upon its citizens. They imply a set of policies to drive the world toward those ends. Where it becomes interesting is when these views-- whether foundation, or implication-- start to diverge. Two people look at the sexual revolution-- one sees an empowerment of women, another sees the undermining of important societal structures. So, where do these points of tension bubble up?

PROBLEM 1: DIFFERENT START- SHARED CONCLUSION: Let’s say I have a worldview that leads me to understand a specific kind of behavior as morally right. Maybe this is my view of the nuclear family, an understanding of how we should design prisons, or a perspective on privatization of schools and tax breaks for religious institutions. And then I meet you. You start from a very different beginning, but we end up with the same conclusion.  While many might see this as a win, if my worldview is exclusivist, I might start to wonder whether I need to hold my starting perspective at all. Commence existential crisis. 

PROBLEM 2: SAME START: DIFFERENT CONCLUSION: Another point of tension is when two people from a shared worldview reach drastically different views. You can see this in the fragmenting of religious institutions over issues of LGBTQ rights and gay marriage. You and I being in the same tradition, but end up concluding that very different behaviors are justified. Unlike the first problem where I wonder if my foundation is relevant, this crisis is about whether a particular tradition holds enough ambiguity to bear disparate conclusions.

PROBLEM 3: FOUNDATION POLLUTION / DILUTION / SUPPRESSION: The core of the third problem is how to maintain “orthodoxy” in the midst of pluralism-- to borrow from Brook’s language. In this case, I might worry that my worldview will be polluted, diluted, or suppressed by dancing amidst competing perspectives. Sure your view of relationships is shaped by specific sacred texts, but might there a little HBO mixed in there as well?  Worries about “losing the culture war” seem to rest squarely within problem 3. 

PROBLEM 4: FUTURE CONCLUSIONS LOST: Finally, to the extent that unique perspectives on future problems only emerge out of specific worldviews, the third worry is that in losing a distinct tradition we might negate creative responses to future issues. In other words, maybe we need a distinctly Christian, Muslim, Neoliberal, or Secular Humanist response to the singularity. Something might be lost if we don’t have these views weigh in on AI, the driverless car, and healthcare reform. If these views are polluted, then their response might be as well.

Looking over this landscape, there are a number of reasons why I stand more with Brooks than Dreher, aligned more fully with Wolterstorff than Rorty. On the first point, I don’t think a particular community has to hold the sole intellectual foundation for a specific policy for it to be justified. I am a pragmatist in this way. If we start on different paths but end up together, we should be able to celebrate. Specific to the second worry that our traditions will fragment into multiple conclusions, I think this inevitable divergence should give us pause about what we can know with certainty regarding metaphysics. This is not a move into nihilism, but rather a call to engage with big issues with loosened grips on our perspective and an openness to dialogue. And as for the third point, while I can see why we might fear the dilution of our traditions, I would rather aim for MLK cross-pollination than be set apart without an ability to dialogue.

Just the other week, Andrew Sullivan wrote an astute piece at New York Magazine assessing the reaction of Middlebury students to Charles Murray’s impending visit. As Sullivan’s work highlights, it is not only religions that struggle with this kind of open conversation. Speaking of growing intolerance within the academic “intersectionality” movement, Sullivan writes:

It is operating, in Orwell’s words, as a “smelly little orthodoxy,” and it manifests itself, it seems to me, almost as a religion. It posits a classic orthodoxy through which all of human experience is explained — and through which all speech must be filtered. Its version of original sin is the power of some identity groups over others. To overcome this sin, you need first to confess, i.e., “check your privilege,” and subsequently live your life and order your thoughts in a way that keeps this sin at bay. The sin goes so deep into your psyche, especially if you are white or male or straight, that a profound conversion is required.

...

It operates as a religion in one other critical dimension: If you happen to see the world in a different way, if you’re a liberal or libertarian or even, gasp, a conservative, if you believe that a university is a place where any idea, however loathsome, can be debated and refuted, you are not just wrong, you are immoral. If you think that arguments and ideas can have a life independent of “white supremacy,” you are complicit in evil. And you are not just complicit, your heresy is a direct threat to others, and therefore needs to be extinguished. You can’t reason with heresy. You have to ban it. It will contaminate others’ souls, and wound them irreparably.

So we are left with a dilemma. We need our unique perspectives, but we also benefit when they are in real dialogue with others. In contrast to Rorty’s view, I believe our traditions can give us unique insights into reality that might creatively color (versus color-over) what we are able to see. Like a language system whose particular words and grammatical structures enable us to pick up on the unique features of the world around us, so too worldviews enable us to see things that are missed with views that start with different aims. Here is Wolterstorff again, on this very point:

Yes indeed, religion is sometimes a menace to the freedoms of a liberal society. But the full story of how we won the freedoms we presently enjoy would give prominent place to the role of religion in the struggle; the good that religion does is not confined to providing, in Rorty's words, comfort "to those in need or in despair." Has the prominent role of religion in the American civil rights movements already been forgotten? Has its prominent role in the revolutions in South Africa, Poland, Romania, and East Germany already passed into amnesia? Then too, a full and fair narrative would have to give prominent attention to the great murderous secularisms of the twentieth century: Nazism, Communism, nationalism. The truth is that pretty much anything that human beings care deeply about can be a menace to freedom - including, ironically, caring deeply about freedom.

This is not to suggest that these views would not have come about otherwise. It is, however, to highlight that the starting points for these policies and perspectives came from particular worldviews. In this way, I think “intersectionality” should exist just as much as Judaism, Liberal Protestantism, Conservative Evangelicalism, and the American Sublime. But I will hold much stronger to that perspective is I think the views that come out of such starting points are both creative and open to dialogue. You can’t reason with heresy, Sullivan reminds us. Going back to Dreher, I wonder if in being set apart, the list of what counts as heretical grow longer and longer?

And still, I can’t shake my fear of the diminished quality from a world set apart. How close is the Benedict Option to John Jeremiah Sullivan’s experience at the CrossOver Festival? Here, Smith puts it well:

When Dreher encourages "bold" and "entrepreneurial" responses to these realities, the examples sound like a replay of subcultural production—little cottage industries that function as what James Davison Hunter has described as "parallel institutions"—coupled with the tribal admonishment to "buy Christian" (which is why in the United States you see little icthuses on business listings in the Yellow Pages—well, when we used to have Yellow Pages!). Dreher seems to think these are suggestions that are fresh and forward-looking, but a lot of us have already seen this movie. And we know how it ends.

Set apart to create a unique music footprint, an industry creates Christianrock. This should give us all pause.

Maybe in serving only the needs of a particular segment we end up with buttoned-up conclusions, a shift away from dialogue, and a resulting diminishment of quality. Christianrock does not need to be quality, Sullivan argues, in large part because that is not the primary thing the audience is looking for. They are looking for safe. They are looking for good enough. Sullivan concludes with the dagger: “So it's possible—and indeed seems likely—that Christian rock is a musical genre, the only one I can think of, that has excellence proofed itself.”

While we need unique communities and particular traditions to see the world with fresh eyes, we need to be equally concerned about the quality of their vision. We need to pay attention to patterns that make us excellent-proof. If the Benedict Option moves a specific tradition in the direction of a creative and helpful distinctiveness, then it should be celebrated. If it doesn’t, it runs the risk of preaching to a choir that is less and less engaged with any other comparative voice. In the end, I am less optimistic than Dreher that the positive vision will come to be.  For that reason, keep me in the Orthodox Pluralist camp. Let me build “friendship with complexity,” and learn to deal with the risk.

[theelectricfilmdiary]

On the 13th of Jan we jetted our way into Lisbon, Portugal. Even on the plane flying in at dusk we could tell this place was going to be the tits. Our uber driver from the airport was really sweet and though he spoke little English, tried to point out local sites and main roads for us. We were basically speaking to each other through our phones, got pretty funny at some points, especially when he was trying to explain something to us and his phone kept translating what he was saying to “Mazda 3” haha. The people here are really warm and it has to be one of our favourite places so far; good people, great food and the city is fantastic. Perched right on the coast and surrounded by beaches which are just a short, cheap train ride away.

We arrived at our Hostel – Livin’ Lisbon. It seemed really cool, clean, in a big old building that looked recently done up, and was buzzing with all sorts. After being checked in our host escorted us to our room, a private double room with a massive bed and desk, drawers etc – right in the city for only 34aud a night including breakfast. Shared bathroom, but there were two on our small floor so no real issue there. The hostel even provide dinner each night for only 4 euro each. Pretty stoked at the value and quality of the place. We got settled into our room and headed out to grab a bite –  Found a new burger joint just around the corner called Gutsy. Was ok, lets just say its no Burgerfuel… the “home-made” lemonade was pretty decent though.

Upon returning, showering and clambering into bed, we soon discovered the downside to our amazing accommodation; Right next door (somewhere) is a night club playing DOOF-DOOF til the small hours, AND the hallways of our level have polished wood floors with high ceilings and echo any footsteps or voices ten fold. At about 12:30am I’d had enough of the loud Americans in the hallway (who I might add had left their bedroom door open while they drank and shout-talked). …”ALEXAAA, ALEXAAA! OH MY GAAD ALEXAA WHAT REWM ARE YEW IN??? IM IN HERE TEWW!”… I was at the end of my patience with inconsiderate assholes and while I couldn’t do anything about the top 100 hits from 2005 going on next door, I sure as shit wasn’t going to tolerate loud conversation from the fools down the hall. I got up and told them politely to shut their door – I was actually pretty polite too, I don’t know if my face registered calm but they apologised and shut the door, appearing completely unaware of their noise level. An hour later I donned ear plugs and finally fell into a deep sleep…

14th Jan – Day one in Lisbon started with breakfast at the hostel, pancakes with Nutella, raspberry compote, and yoghurt plus muslie or toast – coffees wasnt bad either. Then out to explore. We had rounded the corner of the hostel down one of the many tight and tall little back streets when we came across an antique store and were told that there was a vintage market on the main street, Av. de Liberdade, a couple blocks away. Onward we marched until reaching said market, it was full of treasures – most we either couldn’t afford or  couldn’t afford to carry home but purchases were made in the form of a great periperi from a foodie stall and a few other bits and pieces. Also had the experience of being told off by an old stall owner for picking up a perfume dispenser that looked like a vintage flip lighter… “if you don’t know what et es, do not touch et” before explaining what it was and clicking the button I was about to click myself – Cheers mate.

We continued further down the main street towards the harbourside, sucking in as much sunlight as possible on the way. Lisbon is stunning, full of century old buildings with brightly painted or tiled facades. The streets smell of the most mouth-watering food and there are a tonne of people trying to sell you weed, even cocaine! – but they were offering it all to Jim, I guess he’s got “that” look haha. We stopped at a bakery and bought a couple of treats, lemon curd doughnuts, custard tarts and this savoury scone roll type thing with pepperoni and cheese in the middle – oh my. Further down was the sunny waterfront at Cais das Colunas which was humming with tourists and a couple of street performers including a percussion band that were on point – complete with a hoolahoop-gypsy-hippy lady dancing in front.

Off through the back streets again, photographing dozens of pieces of street art and graffiti  – its everywhere here but adds to the colour and beauty of the city. Soon STARVING we stopped in at a hole in the wall local restaurant for a late arvo lunch and ordered grilled sardines with potatoes and salad – pretty standard local style food where the fish is chargrilled. A small bowl of fresh olives, local beer and sangria topped the experience off. It had to be one of the tastiest meals we have eaten on this Europe trip, and so simple. All the food had so much flavour and the fish was so good! Definitely wanna try cooking like that back home. Dessert was interesting – mine was like a custard creme brûlée, and Jims could only be described as scrambled egg cake with coffee syrup haha. Kinda weird but we ate it all. After a couple of hours chatting and drinking, we left and walked up the hill (not a nice feeling when you’re full of fish, custard and sangria) and got to a look out point Miradouro da Graca at the Igreja e Convento da Graca Cathedral which was in the middle of a service so we couldn’t look around – but what we saw of the building was gorgeous. Then back up and over many hills and we were at the hostel a couple of hours later. Having booked in for the 4 euro dinner we enjoyed a plate of pasta later that evening before retiring to our room. Another dance music induced sleep, and we woke to the morning of the 15th January. This was another Stop The World day. Jim and I were exhausted. Our feet were bruised and sore and staying in bed for the day was luxury. There aren’t many times in your life when you will spend the entire day in bed – blissss.  Jim went out to the supermarket round the corner that evening and we made burgers in the hostel kitchen, using some of that periperi we bought the day before… Perfect end to a perfect day of nothingness. The morning of the 16th, well rested we leapt (not really) out of bed and prepared for another day of exploration. Its bright and sunny here every day and way warmer than anywhere we have been so far – getting up to about 16 degrees during the day. Got to say the sunshine is sooo good after a couple of months of cold/rainy/overcast days. We joined our fellow hostel goers for breakfast and then left for the train station and Cascais beach. Three trains and 45 minutes later we were walking the stunning shore line and small cobbled streets of Cascais and wishing despite the cooler climate, that we had bought our beach gear with us for the day. The water is crystal clear and so many different shades of blue and turquoise it blows your mind.

Down at the small beach cove a sand artist – is that what they are called? Sand sculptor? I don’t know, anyway a guy was building these epic sand sculptures and castles.  Jim chucked a coin into the well and the sculpture (of a guy holding his ding-a-ling) turned into a fountain and simulated him taking a pee into the well haha. Pretty cool. Our explorations took us further around the point, and being a monday in the middle of winter almost all restaurants/stores were closed. A couple of kilometers down there was a marina where we found a Portuguese tapas place and indulged in a multitude of delights; fresh clams with butter, garlic and parsley, prawns cooked much the same way but super crispy, mozzarella and tomato on toast with basil, olive oil and balsamic, Iberian ham (local cured ham which is only produced in spain and Portugal) on toast with red pepper pesto, great bread and olives again with a local beer and white wine – not sure what the drinks were called but they were delish too. We ate everything. It was too good to leave, including the buttery garlic gravy from the clams and prawns which we soaked up with the bread. Another bakery stop (or two) for custard tarts and we were feeling sorry for ourselves haha, too much of a good thing or in this case, many good things. The day was drawing to a close so on the train and home for the night. We were still so full that we didn’t eat dinner until 10pm and it was another home-made burger for Jim and a cheese toasty for me. The 17th of January, post hostel breakfast and chores were calling. We spent a couple of hours at Vem e Lava laundrette up the road where we soaked up the free wifi and I wrote most of this entry. The plan, to get the laundry done and then head off on the train to the ferry terminal to catch a ferry across the river/harbour to Cacilhas and then another bus and over to a beach called Costa da Caparica. The weather was perfect and the water extremely calm so the ferry trip of about 12-15mins was effortless. When we hopped off the boat we were in the port area of Cacilhas and there were a few outdoor seafood restaurants serving charcoal grilled fish, as well as Portuguese fish stews, paella and clams. We sat down and ordered up a bunch of food before Jim realised that he hadn’t grabbed any more cash after our laundry expenses that morning and we were left with 30 euros for the day! – This had to cover our bus and train tickets too. So Jim ran up to the waiter and apologetically cancelled our lunch. We had already received our drinks, bread, cheese (Portuguese sheeps milk cheese which is so yum and served at most restaurants as soon as you sit down) and a tasty plate of olives. So we sat and ate bread, cheese and olives and downed our wine and beer before apologising again. We paid 10 euros for the drinks and nibbles – I might add it was only 7 euros but we felt so bad and cheap that we tipped 3 euro haha.

On the way to the bus we saw in the distance a giant sailing ship and headed toward that to check it out. It was called Fragata D. Fernando II e Glória and is a rebuild of a ship that sunk in the Lisbon harbour.  We had a walk through it and had some side-splitting moments from acting out the voices of the many freaky looking mannequins they had set up below deck… Good times.

Another bus ride (after wasting three euro’s buying the wrong tickets first time – good stuff eh) and we found ourselves at Costa da Caparica township. This place is a bit of a surf haven and after walking through the extremely tourist oriented township we made it to the beach where, despite the cold water and next to no surf, there were still a few guys out. Jim and I had packed our bathers knowing that the water was around 10 degrees but we both refused to come to Portugal and leave without swimming in the Atlantic Ocean. We stripped off and changed on the beach under our coats and towels before running into the freezing salty water. It was fecking cold BUT it was also really refreshing and afterward (once warm and dry) we felt completely revitalised. We wandered up the shore and watched a few fishing boats on their way in before strolling back through town and catching a bus to the ferry terminal – just in time too, we arrived a couple of seconds before they pulled the platform and left for Lisbon.

Night had fallen by the time we got home, so we quickly changed and left for dinner at a local joint round the corner down a back street. More bread, cheese and this time sardine pate – which we both loved, before mains of grilled fish (cant remember what type) and potatoes. The food was good, and we left pretty happy. That night we were kept awake again by noisy Italians in the room next to ours and the club next door. Fun fun.

The 18th was our last full day in gorgeous Portugal, and we spent in the town of Sintra, located about 45 minutes out of the city centre by train – towards the west coast. It was quite a bit colder there being a more mountainous region, but had warmed up by mid afternoon. The main attraction in Sintra is the medieval castle ruins Castelo Dos Mouros, which was built in the 9th century by the Moors (Muslims of Europe). We walked up about 100 floors of stairs and steep walkways to get to the top, and the 360 degree view of the area, including the ocean, inland towards the north, and Lisbon city. Beautiful. Also the walk was lined with lush green trees and plants, every single part of it was scenic. After reaching the summit of the castle, we walked right around the walls to each tower taking photos before starting our descent down the opposite side of the hill. We passed an old Tuscan style villa Vila Sassetti which has been restored and is maintained for tourists. The grounds and villa are stunning – romantic Tuscan style architecture with bright terracotta tiles all over the place. From there it was a short trek down through the old town area (full to the brim with over priced tourist targeted knick knacks and restaurants) – Jim and I decided to play it smart (so we thought) and walked further out of the tourist part and into the local areas. There was a restaurant called A Tasca do Manel which had decent ratings online and offered a 2 course lunch and a drink for 7.50 euros each. Sounds good right? We sat down and were told that the chicken curry option was all sold out so we would have to have squid stew. Trying to challenge our taste buds with local cuisine we boldly accepted.

BAD. MOVE.

The first course of lunch was squash and vege soup, which while a bit under seasoned and sweet was still edible. The next course, squid stew…. Joisus…. it was bad, sooooo salty and with a weird texture that made each mouthful a struggle. Plus the potatoes served on the side were way too salty as well – not as salty as the stew but not much of a reprieve either. I had to wash each mouthful down with beer and when I ran out of beer I gave up. We were one of the only tables in the restaurant (we had originally put this down to the 2:30pm time we sat down to eat but soon realised why it was empty). We followed the stew down with a semi burnt tasting espresso and then escaped as quickly as possible after paying. The whole train ride home we were burping up old salty squid…. delightful.

Once back in Lisbon city we went straight to the hostel and lay down for a while, still both feeling the effects of our scrumptious lunch. Dinner that night was plain bread… neither of us really felt up to proper food… :S

Later that evening, while scrolling the internet, Jim found there had been a few quakes about 20 miles from Rome, where we were heading the next day! We called our parents to “seek wise counsel” (say that out loud in a Texan accent) and had a decision to make, cancel our flight and stay in Lisbon another week til we fly home, or just say FUCK IT and go… we chose the latter.

The 19th sadly arrived. Time to leave Lisbon, we got up early, packed, and were out the door by 7am. An Uber arrived to collect us, and the driver got out to help us with our bags. While putting our bags in the boot, the car started rolling forward – he had forgotten the hand brake – Once in the car and on our way to the airport he consistently ran reds, turned on a dime, and flew over speed bumps. Radical.

Another round of airport security, of course Jim got stopped and checked, and we were on the runway leaving Lisbon bound for Rome, exhausted but excited…

Street art, Lisbon

Sintra street details

Squid stew…..

Cascais beaches

Costa da Caparica Beach

Path to Castelo Dos Mouros

Lisbon street details

Vila Sassetti

Cascais waterfront

Cacilhas port

Cascais streets

Rossio Square fountain, Lisbon

Chargrilled fish

Lisbon street details

Door details, Sintra

Ferry crossing to Cacilhas

Castelo Dos Mouros

Touristy knick knacks, Sintra

Cascais waterfront

Fragata D. Fernando II e Glória, Cacilhas

Fragata D. Fernando II e Glória, Cacilhas

Cascais beach

Freaky mannequins in the Fragata D. Fernando II e Glória, Cacilhas

Gardens outside Vila Sassetti

Castelo Dos Mouros

Cascais beaches

Post lunch – Lisbon

Costa da Caparica Beach

Lunch in Cascais

Gardens on the way to Castelo Dos Mouros

Lemon curd delights

Costa da Caparica Beach

Gutsy burgers for dinner

Castelo Dos Mouros details

Cascais lunch

Arco da Rua Augusta, Lisbon

Arco da Rua Augusta, Lisbon

Gardens on the way to Castelo Dos Mouros

Cascais sand artist

Chargrilled Sardines, Lisbon

Cascais sand artist

Lisbon, Portugal On the 13th of Jan we jetted our way into Lisbon, Portugal. Even on the plane flying in at dusk we could tell this place was going to be the tits.