#which is like. one of the main driving forces behind my interest in history & english

[kalashtars]

planning classes has me going "hehehe *kicking my feet*" but i know as soon as i actually have to attend those classes my brain is going to be like "😐😐😐"

[rhysismydaddy]

Unholy Matrimony Pt. 2 (Nessian)

Damnation Series

Parts 1 / 3 / 4 / 5 

_____________________________________________________

~Nesta~

The day after meeting my fiancé, I drop Alexei off at the plane, tell him goodbye, and drive further down the tarmac to where Cassian’s waiting in a completely different private plane.

Very environmentally conscious, our lifestyle

The stairs are unfolded, so after making sure my luggage is transferred over, I head inside.

Cassian’s waiting, sipping bourbon despite the fact that it’s nine in the morning.

He’s dressed in dark jeans, boots, and a black long sleeve t-shirt that makes the tattoos on his hands and knuckles seem even more pronounced. He seems more comfortable now than yesterday.

Like he’s not trying to fit into the mold of a respectable gentleman in a suit.

He looks over as my heels click against the floor, eyes dragging up my legs, pausing at my chest, and scanning my face.

“Hey,” he murmurs, almost like he doesn’t know what else to say.

My lips twitch as I slide into the seat across from him, staying silent for now to throw him off.

As expected, he shifts in his seat, looking mildly uncomfortable.

Then, like he realizes what I’m doing, he narrows his eyes. “You realize that a woman who just sits there, looks pretty, and doesn’t argue is pretty much a man’s dream, right?”

A smile tugs at my lips, but I sigh like I’m not the least bit amused. “Good morning, Cassian.”

His mouth opens and closes a few times as he tries to determine the proper response for such a ground-breaking conversation opener.

He finally decides on: “You don’t have an accent.”

“Not when I speak English.”

Alexei, the hypocritical bastard, said English should sound like English and Russian should sound like Russian.

“Do you speak any other languages?” he asks, apparently not having looked in my file. He’s probably trying to figure out if his secret conversations with his fellow countrymen are safe.

“I speak Italian, since that’s what you really want to know.”

He grins, playful light in his eyes. “I think I’d like to hear that.”

An amused laugh escapes me at that, but I give him what he wants as I murmur, “Sono sicuro che lo faresti.” I’m sure you would.

His eyes seem to darken, and I roll my eyes. Men.

“I speak a little Russian, but not much,” he tells me. Considering I, unlike him, I did my homework, I already knew that.

Done with this conversation, I close my eyes and attempt to sleep. A plan that goes out the window when Cassian says confidently, “I usually only speak Italian when I fuck.”

I know he’s trying to feel me out, get a rise out of me, so I keep my voice completely deadpan as I reply, “Interesting. I tend to choose French.”

He laughs, face splitting into a humongous, goofy-looking grin. “Now that, I can’t wait to hear.”

Ah, yes. Because the idea I won’t sleep with him is unthinkable.

To me, too, but at least I’m not an asshole about it. Time to humble him a bit.

I feign like I’m not attracted to him in the slightest as I make a show of looking him over. “I never said you would, tupitsa.”

Before he can respond to me calling him a dumbass, I close my eyes and go to sleep.

~Cassian~

My fiancé passes out in a matter of seconds. It’s a little impressive, honestly. One second she’s teasing me with the thought of French whispers under silk sheets, the next she’s dead to the world.

I, unfortunately, am stuck on the first part.

Fuck, she’s hot.

It’s an effortless sort of beauty, considering she isn’t wearing makeup and her hair appears to be naturally blonde and straight.

Regardless, she looks like she just stepped off a runway.

Delicate bone structure, fierce eyes, full lips that sounded so good saying my name it took me a moment to formulate a response.

Distracting curves, sweeping hips, long legs that are currently crossed and allowing the slightest hint of lace at the top of her stocking to show.

My dick takes notice of that site, and I remind the greedy bastard she’s a Russian--an enemy--but he doesn’t seem to care. Nope, he wants me to peel those stockings down. With my teeth.

What’s somehow hotter than even her choice of legwear is the fact that she isn’t doing it on purpose. She’s completely relaxed, asleep for God’s sake, not trying to seduce me.

I grit my teeth and look out the window.

Like every other time I fly, I get restless after about ten minutes. I pull out my phone and make sure everything’s ready for when we land, work on my laptop for a bit, stare at Nesta sleeping for a longer bit, and pace the aisle like a caged lion when I start to feel like a creep.

Because I’ve been dealing with administrative shit like getting engaged, it’s been a while since I’ve done something to quell the rush in my blood.

Business, surprisingly, is boring when an army of hateful Russians isn’t trying to kill you all the time. I haven’t fought in days, haven’t shot my gun in longer.

I send Ricardo a text and have him set up a fight for tonight, but even the thought of the coming violence does nothing to help me calm down.

By the time we land, I’m more than ready to get the hell out of this plane.

Nesta wakes up when the wheels touch down, stretching and looking annoyingly well rested.

As the plane taxis, I tell her, “I have to work tonight.”

It’s a lie, and she cocks her eyebrow like she knows it. But she doesn’t call me on it, doesn’t even seem that interested. “I already requested a separate car.”

My brows furrow because I hate being predictable, but I keep my mouth shut.

Nesta stands as the stairs drop open, straightening her dress and pulling it down over the lacey top of her stockings that are now right in front of my face.

Before I even realize what she’s about, there’s a sharp smack to the bottom of my chin that forces my head up. She tsks, shaking her head teasingly.

“What was that for?” I ask, even though I already know.

She grabs her bag, and I follow as she walks down to the tarmac. “Somnophilia.”

I take a second to look up what the hell that is, laughing so hard I have tears in my eyes when I find the definition. Nesta shakes her head, small smile on those distracting lips, and walks to her waiting driver.

“I’ll see you at home, wife,” I call, not able to resist.

She just flips me the bird over her shoulder, making me laugh again.

Like I said, not what I was expecting.

~Nesta~

Things with Cassian are going... well, I guess.

He has the emotional maturity of a seventeen year old boy, but he isn’t terrible. As long as he stays out of my way, I dare say this marriage might work.

He’ll go about his business, I’ll go about mine, and we’ll avoid each other for happily ever after just like the fairytales say.

I shake my head as Maxim, one of the first New York transplants, navigates us through the city and to Sera. I’ve visited all my clubs at least once, and I have to admit, this one is by far my favorite.

As it should be.

The other three I run in New York were all my father’s originally. Built by a man, for the entertainment of men, I have to say they aren’t places I’d visit myself.

But I built Sera from the ground up, and while it’s designed to appeal to both men and women, men are--for the first time in history--not the priority.

The building it’s located in is a skyscraper, one I rent out to different businesses that don’t need an entire place to themselves. The ground floor is a bank, one that discretely cleans Russian money and makes us more through interest.

All in all, an unremarkable location to the public eye.

But every night, after normal banking hours have long passed, a select number of guests are invited to Sera--a speakeasy-type burlesque club with a hidden entrance in the secondary vault of the bank.

It’s secret, exclusive, and private as hell.

When we get to the bank, I enter the passcode on the side door--changed nightly--and walk through the silent lobby to the back room where the bouncer sits on a wooden stool.

“Privet, boss,” the burly man greets, sweeping the door open and ushering me through with a meaty hand. “Man in the back is asking for the owner.”

I nod and step inside, the door immediately closing behind me.

It’s the perfect level of crowded; enough people that no one stands out but not packed to the point of misery. By design, of course.

Everything seems to be the same as when I visited a few months ago except for the changed flooring I had installed last week. The tables and booths in the back are full of people captivated by the jazz singer on stage, a woman I discovered while walking to a business meeting in Paris.

Her cigarette-roughened voice had pulled me in, much like it does the audience now, and I’d offered her a job on the spot.

One of the bartenders, an ex-con who was locked up for stealing insulin for his diabetic daughter, smiles at me and slides me a tumblr of vodka as I make my way over.

“Good to see you,” Dima greets warmly. “How long are you here for?”

“Permanently.”

His eyebrows shoot up, which makes sense, considering the engagement hasn’t been announced properly. We’re apparently having a party of some kind in two weeks to celebrate the big news.

“I’ll explain later,” I tell him, noticing a group of people approaching the bar.

He nods, and I slip away towards the back corner where a roped-off set of stairs lead down to the basement below.

Like usual, there’s a private poker game happening in the main room of the bottom floor, and I stop to make say a few hellos but eventually move on to the hallway containing offices for some of the management.

The soldier stationed at the door to mine nods in acknowledgement, then tells me a whale’s inside.

My brows raise at the idea of a big-time investor coming to see me at this hour, but I shrug and walk in, shoulders back and face blank. I learned a long time ago to never let my emotions play out on my face.

The man waiting inside looks to be in his forties, richer than sin, and cold. Mafia, undoubtedly. His dark eyes rake over me, and he asks in a tone I don’t appreciate, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Nesta Orlov. You requested to speak to me?”

His bushy brows pinch together. “No, I want to speak to the owner.”

“One and the same.”

“I was told Cassian Azara is the owner.”

My jaw clenches at the thought that we’ve been engaged for less than two days and people already assume my shit is his. “By who?” I ask, remembering our upcoming nuptials aren’t even public news yet.

“My Capo.”

That gets my attention.

Rhysand’s telling people my club is Cassian’s? Why?

Something isn’t right.

I might not know the Italian boss, but I’ve heard he’s straightforward. Ruthless but honest. So why would he lie?

A little voice inside my head whispers, What if he isn’t?

Mind whirling, I turn to the man and smile politely even though it’s the last thing I feel like doing. “Would you mind giving me a moment? If you go upstairs, our bartender will get you anything you want, on the house.”

He shrugs and leaves, and as soon as the door clicks shut, I go to my desk and pull up the electronic copy of our marriage contract.

Like I thought, nothing’s amiss.

I read this shit thoroughly enough to know exactly what I was getting into, and in case I missed anything, I had my private lawyer scan over it.

But that little voice, that gut feeling, refuses to go away. So I grab my bag and look through the physical copy, dread unfurling when I notice an extra page tucked in the middle.

It’s a prenup.

One I’ve never seen.

And there, smack dab in the middle, is a line declaring the deed to Sera the property of Cassian Azara.

A rough breath forces its way out of me, and for a second, I’m so angry, so blind with rage, I can’t hardly think. What the hell is going on?

I force myself to think through this, to rationalize what I’m seeing.

Replaying the moment in the Capo’s office, I realize the switch between the original and this version of the contract must’ve happened prior. I was only in there a few minutes and had the papers in my hand the whole time.

Which means...

Alexei picks up on the first ring, like he was waiting for the call. “Da.”

“What the hell have you done?”

He sighs. “What needed doing.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. I wasn’t the one who started a goddamn war with the Italians, and yet I’m the one who’s paying all the prices. I’m marrying the bastard, for fuck’s sake. Give him one of your clubs.”

His tone hardens. “He didn’t want anything else.”

“I don’t give a shit! This place is my property. It isn’t yours to give away.” I take a deep breath and try to quiet the rushing in my veins. “That idiot will run it into the ground.”

There’s a long moment, and I swear he sounds a little guilty as he says calmly, “He has more than a few businesses of his own, Nesta. It will be fine.”

I pinch my lips together to keep from cursing the man who raised me.

“If you read the document,” he says, a strange note to his voice. “You’ll notice there are a number of clauses.”

My eyes scan to the bottom of the page, and I read as Alexei continues. “He is permitted from selling, unless to you. The investors have the option to vote him out at any time. And if he is unfaithful to you or ends the engagement for whatever reason, Sera is returned to you in full.”

All the violence, all the rage, seems to dim. Just a little.

This is so like Alexei; in fact, it was one of his first lessons to me.

Give someone the illusion of winning, and they’ll sign anything you want them to.

I read through the clauses again, lips twitching. “Let me get this straight. If I can prove Cassian Azara--notorious playboy of New York--is cheating on me, the club is mine? And if the board at Sera votes him out, he can’t fight it?”

I can practically hear my father’s smile. “Da.”

“Or if I drive him crazy and he ends the engagement?”

“Da.”

Sounds easy enough. I drive Alexei absolutely insane and have never had a long-term relationship. I’ll have him running for the hills in no time.

One thing doesn’t make sense, though. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew if I told you, you wouldn’t sign. It’s still a risk, even with the clauses” He takes a deep breath. “I never told you, but we were losing the war in New York. We would’ve lasted another year, and then we would’ve lost the city.”

“Alexei-”

“I need this alliance to hold, Volchonok,” he says. “And either of you calling off the engagement or divorcing the other is grounds for the war to start back up.”

“So you’re saying I still need to marry him.”

He gruffs a confirmation, and my brain whirls as it thinks of a new plan.

My options are down to three: have him sell to me, prove he’s cheating, or get the board to vote him out.

“One more thing. You only have until the wedding. Once you’re married, the only way to get your property back is if he signs the deed to you.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, moving my timeline up by a factor of a hundred. Checking the calendar proves what I already know: I have less than thirty days to somehow convince one of the most notoriously stubborn men in the world to give me a multi-million dollar company.

Easy.

“I’m... sorry. For lying.”

I’m so shocked he just apologized--something he’s never done in my twenty-five years of life--it takes me a moment to respond and tell him he’s forgiven. “Ty proshchen, otets.”

I disconnect the call and swivel around in the chair, a smile pulling on my lips.

I’m going to drive him fucking crazy. All while I make him fall in love with me.

Oh, Cassian. I almost feel sorry for you.

_______________________________________________________

NEXT CHAPTER

[qqueenofhades]

(1/2) Honestly, Hilary, you are a blessing. I want to scream about your amazing Fic, how I love Immortal Husbands and the whole Immortal Family and how I had more fun learning history from your writing than in my whole damn school. But I also want to appreciate your TOG answers and meta. All the more because my friends outside the internet saw TOG as some boring movie with shitty plot and I'm just here in the corner, wanting to scream at someone who will understand about FINALLY seeing...

"(2/2) ...some GOOD queer representation, without throwing stereotypes in our faces, and I can't even begin with the found family trope because THE FEELS. Anyway, what I was trying to say with this rambling: thank you. <3"

....I’m sorry what. Who. Who is saying this. Straight people? I feel like the answer is definitely straight people. Because they have had EIGHTY FUCKING THOUSAND shitty action movies with the Boring White Man Hero, the disposable Muslim-coded (or actually Muslim) villains, the equally disposable eye-candy female love interest who either gets fridged or is secretly evil, Grimdark Everyone Is Secretly Bad And Nothing Matters crap philosophy, Moral Hand Wringing Over Superhero Violence, on and on. So of course they can moan and whine about “iT’s nOt OrIGinAL” and apparently not sufficiently Grimdark and Amoral, and how the dynamics of the team are completely reshuffled in a way that actually doesn’t prioritize THEM, and like.... this is why I never trust media only beloved by straight people, and only ever watch anything after it’s been recommended to me by a trusted queer friend. Because sometimes I remember the difference, and WHOOF.

Because: the gays and people of color DESERVE formulaic action/superhero movies as much as the Generic White Bro (in fact, we can all agree, far more than the Generic White Bro). This is the trap where every piece of media that’s not made by a Mediocre White Man has to be the best all-time of its genre, apparently, rather than using some of the same well-loved storytelling tropes but recoding them and re-deploying them for a more diverse audience. Instead of the Hard Bitten White Man Action Hero, we have Andy and Nile (two women, and Nile as a young Black woman who literally cannot be shot to death, in the year 2020, is fucking revolutionary on its own don’t @ me). As I said in my first meta, even Booker, who comes closest to fulfilling that trope, is made the closest thing to a “villain” there is on the team and even then for entirely sympathetic motives that rest on him having teary-eyed conversations with Nile about how he misses his family and feels like he failed them. His emotions help drive the story in an actually GOOD and useful way, rather than sacrificing everyone else to coddle him through his feeble heterosexual manchildness (why yes, I AM staring directly at the Abomination without blinking). Nobody in the story is EVER penalized or made a fool of for loving their found family (itself an intensely queer trope, even before the queerness of the individual characters) or trying to do the right thing even in the middle of the horrors, and frankly, I just want to consume more media with that as the main message. I’M SO FREAKING TIRED OF GRIMDARK. GOD. IF I WANTED THAT I COULD JUST TURN ON THE NEWS.

And of course, my BELOVED Joe and Nicky: an interracial, interreligious gay couple that has been wildly in love for literal CENTURIES and gives me the opportunity to do things like write the most self-indulgent historical romance backstory fic ever with DVLA. They met in the embodiment of religious conflict and have transcended that, there are never any cruel jokes or expectation for you to congratulate the narrative for being so beneficent as to give you “an exclusively gay moment” (fuck you Disney!). Joe and Nicky’s love story is central both to who they are as characters, doesn’t revolve around them being suffering or being Tormented over being gay (when the cops pull them apart for kissing, they beat the cops the fuck up, WE STAN), gets to unfold naturally in the background of the story with these beautiful little beats of casual intimacy (the SPOONING /clutches heart) and since THEY LITERALLY CANNOT DIE, no chance of the “burying your gays” bullshit. Even when they’re captured first by the bad guys, and I briefly, upon first viewing, worried that they were going the Gay Pain route just for cheap emotional points, they remain constantly united and fighting together and able to do stupid things like flirt when they’re strapped to gurneys by a mad scientist. Then the rest of the team ends up right there with them, so it’s not something that happens to them alone, and Nile comes in to save everyone’s asses, and Joe and Nicky get ANOTHER beautiful moment of fighting the bad guys and being worried about each other and tender even in the middle of this chaos and GOD! MY HEART! MY WHOLE ASS HEART! I LOVE THEM!

And just the fact that it’s not the Evul Mooslim Turrorists or Boilerplate Scary Eastern Europeans or whoever else who are the bad guys, but Big Pharma, nasty white men with too much money and not enough ethics, the CIA (at least tangentially; they could have pushed a lot harder on that but I’ll give Copley individually a pass), and the very forces that want to stop the Old Guard and discount what they do (helping the little people) as worthless... GOD. That is fucking POWERFUL. They literally take the time to explain with Copley’s Conspiracy Wall that even the little things the team does, when they can’t see it themselves, spiral out through centuries and have positive effects down the line. And it’s NOT just in the Western world (no scene in the movie takes place in America, none of the main four characters/heroes are American, and they only go to England when the English villains capture them). They’re in Africa, in Asia, in South America, in all these places where the Western/imperial world order has harmed people the most and in a way that Euro/American audience often gets to forget. On the surface this might be an action movie with Charlize Theron beating up men (which I mean, that alone is fine if you ask me) but there are SO MANY WAYS in which it achieves these deeper moments of meaning and subversion of the narrative that we are so often fed and the ways it could have done this (i.e. the same old Mediocre White Man ways).

I love the fact that the team unabashedly LOVES each other as their family members (I will never get over them all liking to sleep in one room even in their safe house in France), even when they struggle, and that they continue trying to make it right and never consider leaving Booker behind, because he screwed up but they still love him (and he them). I LOVE LOVE LOVE that this movie gave me not just Joe and Nicky but Andy and Quynh: two completely badass queer couples who kick tons of ass and have romance and Drama and rich and well-realized lives outside being used as emotional manipulation or suffering porn for straight people. (I realise it’s only been two weeks since the first one released, but where is my sequel, I have Needs. Especially Andy/Quynh and Quynh/Joe/Nicky needs). I was disappointed that they’d gotten rid of Quynh in a Bad Medieval Way to cause pain for Andy and then shocked and DELIGHTED when she turned up alive in Booker’s apartment at the end of the film. I LOVE that this movie gave me Nile Freeman and everything that she represents in the middle of this hellish year. I even love Booker! BOOKER! When he’s usually the character type I can’t stand and have the least patience with!

So yes. I have watched it three times already. I am sure I am going to watch it several times more. It just makes me so happy.

[nightcoremoon]

weird opinion but christians aren't religious.

ok so like, jews generally follow god's rules, muslims follow allah's rules, hindus probably follow their gods rules, so on and so forth. and overall they do it out of faith; they do it because they want to honor the deity who loves them rather than because society forces them to.

granted the zionists and the radical extremists and the zealots do exist but as loud minorities and thus are statistical outliers & don't matter.

christians are... a different breed.

"if you aren't x branch and dont obey y rules you'll go to hell so we'll fucking murder you" is pretty much the main driving force behind a significant portion of christianity in history. the catholics, the protestants, the orthodoxy, all are built on a foundation of fear, anger, and hatred. it's shaped the way society developed; in the 4 nations that did the most genocidal imperialist colonialism- England, France, Spain, and Italy- a combination of convenient coastal locations, naval prowess, military tendency, christianity, and ultranationalism lead them down a path of missionaries, holding bibles in one hand and bloodstained knives in the other. the religion is inseparable from the culture and inseparable from the horrible things done in the name of their god, and the resulting cancers of society we feel today from the campaigns of slaughter. xenophobia. capitalism. savage barbarism via sensationalized capitol punishment. misogyny. queerphobia. gender fascism. classism. racism. all of these issues in the "civilized world" stem predominantly from those four nations and the disease ridden pestilent filth some call pilgrims.

here's something interesting:

there are less than 1 million rastafari in the world.

there are less than 5 million shinto in the world.

there are less than 25 million jews in the world.

there are less than 30 million sikhs in the world.

there are roughly 100 million african cultural religious adherents in the world.

there are less than 400 million chinese cultural religious adherents in the world.

there are about 500 million buddhists in the world.

there are about 1.1 billion hindus in the world.

there are about 1.2 billion nonreligious people in the world.

there are 1.6 billion muslims in the world.

and one final statistic

there are over 2.1 billion christians in the world.

the jewish count is a highball, rounded up, and includes several different definitions of jewish including people who are only one quarter. so for every single person who is even remotely jewish, there are more than 8 christians. for every hindu, there are 4 christians. for every atheist, agnostic, or "other", 2 christians. this frightening statistic should set off warning bells for everyone who is involved in a discussion about religion. and anyone who knows BASIC world history and can correlate data at all can probably piece together what I'm putting down.

now, I may be slightly biased here considering my eclectic religious beliefs. now, I personally believe that there is some primary force of energy that may or may not manifest itself as a humanoid being, that engineered the most basic laws of physics in the universe: atomic magnetism. as can be inferred by planck's constant and its implications, our universe is digital, written in binary. an electron either moves or doesn't move. there are no other options. so I genuinely believe in some form of intelligent design; whether it's a bearded guy on a cloud, some dude with six arms and an elephant for a face, just a big swirling pool of ectoplasm, or a big ol' plate of spaghetti and meatballs, something is out there that we are physically incapable of contacting from our plane of existence, just as a drawing on a piece of paper cannot reach out to interact with the world: a gif will move on its own but it will never acknowledge our existence, even if it could think by itself. and all the different mythologies of the world- egyptian, greek, norse, shinto, whatever- very well could be the agents of that unknown "god". perhaps anubis, ra, and bastet are just angels with animal heads that all of the peoples of ancient egypt saw and were like oh I guess this must be a god. maybe zeus and loki were the same person with a magic dick who fucked a bunch of animals in both greece and the scandinavian countries and spawned all of the horrible half-animal monstrosities that, idk, made vishnu think "well I have to kill that" and caused the biblical flood or something. maybe the jewish god gifted wisdom to siddhartha for sitting under a fig tree for 6 years through the angel pomona [roman goddess of fruit, had to google that one], so buddha gets his wisdom from demeter and is in nirvana right now right a step up from hades on yggdrasil the world tree keeping an eye on his charge persephone. any theory could theoretically be true but we ants of humans will never fucking know because we can't just point a telescope at the magellanic clouds and say "look, there's amaterasu with russell's teapot, and she's having tea with... *rubs eyes* lemmy kilmister??? wow I guess gods are real after all!" it's impossible to know the secrets of our universe because of the very restrictive nature of the universe itself. is it a circle? is it a donut? WE DONT FUCKIN KNOW.

we cannot know what religion is truthful.

""anyone who says that any one religion is more or less true than any other is a fucking moron, and if they're suggesting that White Western European Colonial Imperialist Protestantism is the one true faith, they're probably a fucking racist colonizer who beats his wife/sister and burns gays at the stake. and considering how that exact demographic is typically the one that murdered people for not converting to their religion, I don't think they have the intellectual non-deranged ability to make those logical connections.

again, I'm not saying that there AREN'T a lot of people of every religion who are evil assholes who contributed to mass genocide. israelites killed palestinians. shiites killed sunnis. hutus killed tutsis. danes killed geats. turks killed armenians. the ottoman empire has as much blood on its hands as the holy roman empire. germans who called themselves aryans but weren't actually aryan killed jews. but all of these tragedies were isolated incidents rather than repeated patterns over the course of two thousand years. not like christianity was and is.

just look at the United States, Canada, Mexico, Hong Kong, South Africa, Australia, & India's British Raj. Britain, France, Spain, and Italy, by extension Protestantism and Catholicism, are the shared factor between the long and bloody history fraught with massacring indigenous populations who wouldn't convert religions. native americans, indigenous canadians, latin americans but predominantly mexicans, the eastern chinese, coastal africans, aborigine aussies, indians- coastal coastal coastal. true the western chinese and the mongols/hunnu and xinjiang muslims haven't exactly been on civil terms and the silk road has always been a battleground and the middle east was already tenuous before murrica bombed them for oil but those happened in such a spread out area among asia which is FUCKING HUGE, MIND YOU! but also that's three high traffic places with massive diversity, it's human nature to have conflict, but not nearly to the same level as all of the shit christianity has done to the world. it's impossible to separate the religion from the cultures; victorian england without protestantism is just dirty people who die at 15 from having their 3rd child. italy without the catholicism is just grass and cheese. france and spain without religion are just kingdoms that fought wars with england for forever and now just make food that's one part delicious and three parts horrifying. religion is directly responsible for a significant portion of the evils those countries committed. one religion in particular.

they don't practice religion the same way as the rest do. they aren't faithful to their god. they don't follow his rules out of love but out of fear. they execute dissenters without a second thought, heresy they cry. they execute women and little girls for being free thinking or having sickness associated with mercury poisoning in the water, witch they cry. they slaughter men women and kids alike in the name of cramming their beliefs down the natives throats, we're chasing out the snakes they cry, we're bringing god to your godless people they cry, we're just civilizing you they cry. they shit in the streets and proudly display rotting corpses and leave the impoverished disabled and starving to die alone and whip their slaves and rape teenage girls and scrap in the streets while sopping wet with spilled ale over insignificant insults and stab people to death in the night and never even fucking BATHE, and they have the nerve to say the natives were uncivilized. the nerve. because hey. they read a magic book they stole from a culture who stole from another culture who stole from another culture, mistranslating each time from hebrew to greek to italian to english, and they think they're better because their skin is white.

christians never evolved. their mentalities have stayed the same. all thatms advanced has been technology. that's it. they're still the same evil disgusting degenerate bastards they always were. they just have the money they stole to buy stained glass windows, rosary beads, giant tacky metal statues, bigass robes, leather, and printing presses. and as time passed they used the money they continued to steal to buy cars and websites and radio stations and commit felony tax evasion and secretly molest children and line the pockets of the politicians.

all of their holidays are stolen from pagans anyway.

so fuck christmas. fuck easter. fuck lent. fuck the golden calf christian holidays that the tiny minded fragile snowflake conservatives lose their collective shit over because the pandemic response common sense stipulations won't let them buy the shit they can't afford with money they shouldn't have for people they don't even LIKE, all in the name of tradition, tradition! the rituals that worship something so much worse than satan or baphomet or pan or whatever: the dollar. they buy all the new shiny shit they can, at the expense of the chinese kids that the corporate pigs outsource to, buy the pine trees and the coca cola vunderbar and the fake mint corn syrup Js and watch the same shitty cookie cutter white supremacist hallmark fash movies and stuff their kids full of enough sugar to go into a goddamn coma when the african slaves who pick the cocoa beans will never get to know what actually being a kid will ever feel like because they're gonna die from falling into a combine harvester and be eternally forgotten to history and no christian will ever give a shit because they don't fucking care about what they don't see on their safe space news or hear on their safe space radio or read on their safe space social media. they think their worst sin is eating cheeseburgers so instead they'll go eat a mcchicken or chick fil a or an arby's chicken sandwich instead but not at popeyes because "that place is sketchy" and by that they mean they don't wanna eat where black people eat, that's why cracker barrel was so popular for so many white christians for so long because it had racially segregated seating until barely 20 years ago.

they don't love jesus. they love a paper doll they shove into their back pockets until every other sunday where they go to a fucking mall with a baptism waterslide and raise their hands like a bunch of dumbass weirdos and away to adult contemporary indie schlock with the word jesus pasted into a boring-ass hetero romance song, pat themselves on the back, then go to starbucks to scream slurs and misgenderings at 14 year old starbucks baristas who give them a cappamochalattechino instead of a fucking carmamochalattechino because you mumbled under the mask you didn't even fucking cover your nose with because you don't give a shit about the virus beyond how it inconveniences you.

they are horrible people who pretend to be good. until you suggest the slightest infinitely small inconvenience to them that would alter their holiday plans even the littlest smidge. then they would kill you if not for the police. don't get me started on them because you know by now what I'd say about those fuckers. but they'll gladly wear shirts about how they'll kill you. how they'll go back 200 years. how they'll murder you and watch you slowly suffer because their primate brains shoot a million endorphins when they watch things die by their hands because they never evolved a sense of empathy, compassion, or morality beyond how wearing a cross necklace will remove any of the consequences they will face in their afterlife.

they are horrible people who pretend to be good. unless you're gay or black or trans or Not Christian™ or mexican or disagree with them about politics economics sociology science technology music or movies. assimilate or die. assimilate or die. assimilate or die.

they don't deserve special treatment for their false idols.

they aren't better than jews or muslims.

they're worse.

so much worse.

and they should be stopped.""

-Nightingale Quietioca

save as draft arch draft bookmark draft where did I put my keys contra code kontra kode I need to remember this and copy it buzzwords keywords find it later please god tumblr don't bork on me this is good stream of consciousness repackage repackage change the words this is a great character study if I do say so myself thanks 3am me you're welcome 3am me

[cosmiciaria]

Assassin’s Creed Unity Review/honest thoughts/discussion - SPOILERS (long post)

So I decided to finally settle on a proper review – although this one is going to be more of what here in Argentina we call a "sincericidio": basically I will spit my guts out and cry in one corner, while being completely honest about my feelings. I will try to keep most spoilers at bay, like I always do, but there's just one thing I cannot not talk about which is THE spoiler so – I want you to be considered warned.

Before I start, I should state, since this is my review and reviews are quite personal actually, why this game is so important to me and why I wanted to play it so bad. There's a combination of factors, and obviously this game isn't going to strike the same chords with everyone, so bear in mind that this is strictly subjective and, right now, personal.

First factor and I think the most important one: I like writing. Wait, don't leave the review just yet. I like writing and creating characters. I have many. Lately I've been revisiting a character that had a very sad backstory and added quite long happy ending for him. I made him fall in love again. He's black haired, wears a short pony tail… his new love interest is a redhead with wavy hair… ok, you get me now, don't you? And what's worse, is that their story takes place in a fictional world that resembles quite much Europe of 1800's. So clothes and ballrooms and palaces and big, fluffy dresses are a thing in this story of mine. I think that, if you've ever created a character, to find another fictional, similar character in any medium is going to draw your attention to that product right away. It did happen to me with Cal Kestis from SW Jedi: Fallen Order, I have another redhead baby boy that needs to be protected at all costs. It's a way for us to 'see', let's say, or imagine our characters being brought to life.

Second factor: I love Paris. I visited Versailles and Paris back in late 2018, and I went there with zero expectations, only to fall in love with France. I love the Château de Versailles. I love palaces. I love the Seine. I love the Louvre. I love it. All of it. If I could, I'd live there. Sadly, I'm poor and speak little to no French at all.

Third Factor: I'm learning French! I dream with the day I can speak like five languages as well as I speak English (I studied it for ten years so… it kinda makes sense that I feel comfortable with it). I'm still struggling with French, but I will get there someday. I will. Because I love it. I love the language. Oui.

Fourth factor: I also really really, really like the French Revolution, and I've never, much to my surprise, watched or played any series, videogame, movie or anything that takes place in such a context (if you have recommendations, please drop them right away!). And I say "to my surprise" because I really like that part of History! So, to live in almost first person how the French Revolution unfolded – to hear the chansons and to see people gathered in crowds at every corner, listening to a liberty preacher wielding the French flag – that was glorious.

Fifth and yeah we're done: I love Les Misérables. I know it happens way later than the French Revolution, but since this musical (and the 2012 movie) became my 'home', I can't help but feel a stronger connection with everything I said above. I can watch that movie over and over and I will still sing Empty chairs and empty tables with tears in my eyes, despite its flaws.

I had like every reason to play this game. And it paid off.

Before plunging into it, I did read the novelization. Sadly, it was only to satisfy my soon-to-be-fulfilled obsession with the game, since I don't think the quality of the narration was, uhm, that good – it felt like you needed to have played the game before reading it. And I get it, it's a videogame adaptation, that's fine, but when you look at it as standalone book, it doesn't stand alone that good. What disappointed me, though, wasn't the narration, which was what I totally expected it to be, nor the dialogues or the ending – it was Élise. I was bit weary about this because she came across as completely different character than what I had in mind about her, and I didn't like her. At all. In the book, at least. I didn't like her because she had a few comments and took some decisions that made her look like she was stupid and/or selfish. I can understand the selfish part; I do not want to even believe that she's stupid. So that's why the book was a bit of a letdown for me. I recommend it, though, if you're a fan, because there's a book exclusive character that really gets the plot moving and he's endearing: Mr. Weatherall. Oh, what a man.

Now, regarding the game itself – it shouldn't come as a surprise that I thoroughly enjoyed it. As I've stated in another post, this game is barely an Assassin's Creed, since you delve like zero into the AC lore, and it's just an excuse for your character – Arno – to know parkour. Which in fact he knows before becoming an assassin, so it begs the question, why is this game even in this franchise? I digress. It's an AC game at the end of the day and that won't change.

But do not jump into this game expecting it be your average AC story. I firmly believe that the creators wanted to convey a different story here. For starters, Arno is no hero. Arno doesn't want to save the world. Arno doesn't care about any artifact or magic or creed. Arno only wants to discover who's the man behind De La Serre's death. That's his main driving force. And behind that, there's this undeniable and yet quite destructive feeling that pulls him forward: Élise.

Élise and Arno's relationship goes deeper into this story than it's noticeable at first glance. When you look back upon the plot, you discover that without their love 'subplot', there's no plot at all. If I may be so bold, I would even argue that Arno's story is a tragic love story. All the assassin's lore, all the betrayals, the first few assassinations, it all falls back into the background when Élise returns to the stage almost halfway through the game. And even though they only share like one kiss or two during the 40 hours of gameplay, there's still this latent, persistent motivation behind each of Arno's actions, that he wouldn't be doing what he's doing if it wasn't for Élise.

And it all comes down to that one line: What I wanted was you.

I cannot stress enough how much I loved all of the drunkard memory of Versailles. I think it embodies Arno's perfect character development. The constant rain and the bluish filter on every framerate added to the overall depressing atmosphere. I felt miserable while playing those quests, and the moment he steps out into the entrance of the Château de Versailles and reflects on his past decisions – decisions that have been stolen from him, because he could never defend himself nor change the course of actions on his own accord – that exact moment that he sits down and cries, I cried too.

Because all the game, all the memories, all the dialogues go in a crescendo only to crumble into this abyss. And this, in turn, creates a fleshed-out character, with a believable development, believable feelings, believable motivations. I can feel for Arno, I can understand him, I pity him, and I want to hug him. The whole game reaches its peak in its main character's worst moment: when he realizes that he's screwed everything up.

And not always do we get a story where the main character doesn't win. He just doesn't. Underneath its revolutionary streets, this story reeks of inexorability and fatality. You know it, you know it in the back of your head, but you push that thought apart because you want to enjoy jumping over rooftops and finding the best strategy to kill that man. There's this underlying, looming melancholy in every memory that you play in, and that's why the end doesn't surprise us.

It makes us cry, of course, but it didn't come as a surprise at all. If you're shocked about the end, then you haven't been paying enough attention to Élise's dialogues, to the tone of the story, to her letters, to where this plot was going. Because, like I said, the story is about Arno and Élise's relationship, it isn't about defeating the bad guy. And there was only one way that story could end.

*cries in French*

*Je pleure beaucoup*

I know the game has been panned by players for its performance. And being the 2020 year of our lord, I cannot say I reject those allegations, since it's been 6 years since the game was released. I hope enough patches were implemented to salvage the bugs. I only came across one bug in my entire playthrough which bothered me a little: some NPC's would sometimes pop into cutscenes and phase through the characters like nothing. At first it was funny, but then towards the end it happened two more times, in important cutscenes with our lovely couple, which kinda destroyed all immersion, if you know what I mean. The rest was fine: it never crashed on me, I didn't encounter the infamous, horrendous bug that unleashed memes in internet, never a T-pose or something that rendered the game unplayable – nothing, only that funny bug I mentioned. I did see the drop in framerates, specially in very crowded areas – but to be honest I never saw a game with so many NPC's together in the same place, like, hundreds of them, each with unique animations and varied models. I only come from playing Syndicate, and even there the number of NPC's was lower. Here is jarringly unreal, I didn't know the French Revolution was THIS jam-packed with people!

On a graphical department, this 2014 game still holds up. Very well. I think it even looks better in some scenes than some of its successors. The cutscenes were sometimes very cinematographic, with close ups, zoom outs, certain angles, with quite real lighting and shadows. I know it's not Naughty Dog and it doesn't have the whole Sony battalion behind, but damn if some of the character's expressions were really good. It didn't happen often, so when one of them had this very specific face I was like *insert surprised pikachu meme*.

I also enjoyed the music a lot. I don't know why but the one from the main menu stuck with me for a while. All of the songs have this Versailles, aristocratic tone to it which put me in the mood.

I have only one minor complaint and its entirely optional, let's say – I want to platinum this game. But I don't own PS plus, because it's, uhhh, expensive in my country (do not want to indulge in dollar exchange rates right now). And there are like two trophies only obtainable through multiplayer, which renders my trophy hunt useless. But, alas, I knew this before buying the game. I think that games shouldn't come with multiplayer trophies for the platinum. If you have to pay extra for something, it must be completely optional. And so should be the trophies related to it. It's a bit disappointing, though, because after finishing this game I want so bad to return to it, but if I can't platinum, I don't see myself coming back to it soon. Either way, I could still earn the rest of the trophies, but that would only enrage me more when the last 3% is going to be locked forever *cries again*.

All in all, my major question at the end is: why does this game receive so much hate? I guess if I came from a hardcore fan standpoint I could understand it more. If I had played all its predecessors before this one, I would also feel that the gameplay and the objectives are repetitive. That the challenges are bs. But the stealth aspect has been improved, the parkour has been redesigned and adapted, and as of now, bugs aren't a problem anymore. I want to believe that when a remaster for the PS5 comes out or, I don't know, if someone by divine grace has an epiphany in the near future regarding this game, people will change their mind on this one and will appreciate more what it wanted to be, than what they made it to be. After all, this is Arno's story. Arno's tragic love story.

Also this game is beautiful JUST LOOK AT IT LOOK AT IT!!! 

Sorry couldn’t help myself

[script-a-world]

I'm trying to build a wuxia world that's modern. But I'm having serious trouble with all the outdated ideas and lifestyles as well as modern understanding of science. All the mechanics as well as fighting are basically scientific, but extended and exaggerated to be made like it's magic. Problem is, modern science refutes all that. Especially about the readily known or secret everything is in the modern world. I could explain in more detail or specific ideas, but it's not easy in English.

Mod Note: The asker later sent an ask that they had found someone privately to help with their questions, but as Tex had already put the work into this response, and there may be others interested, we are still posting our reply.

Tex: Wuxia is inherently a genre of historical fantasy, so I understand the struggle with bringing it into a modern setting. Let me paste a short Wikipedia synopsis in to help orient me, with a Chinese version so you have something in a more navigable language.

The word "wǔxiá" is a compound composed of the elements wǔ (武, literally "martial", "military", or "armed") and xiá (俠, literally "chivalrous", "vigilante" or "hero"). A martial artist who follows the code of xia is often referred to as a xiákè (俠客, literally "follower of xia") or yóuxiá (遊俠, literally "wandering xia"). In some translations, the martial artist is referred to as a "swordsman" or "swordswoman" even though he or she may not necessarily wield a sword.

The heroes in wuxia fiction typically do not serve a lord, wield military power, or belong to the aristocratic class. They often originate from the lower social classes of ancient Chinese society. A code of chivalry usually requires wuxia heroes to right and redress wrongs, fight for righteousness, remove oppressors, and bring retribution for past misdeeds. Chinese xia traditions can be compared to martial codes from other cultures such as the Japanese samurai bushidō.

Source: Wikipedia in English

武侠文化是華人界特有的一種流行文化，體現於武俠類作品的盛行，乃至影響到小說、漫畫、影視、電子遊戲和音樂等各種娛樂媒介。武俠文化多以各式俠客為主角，神乎其神的武術技巧為特點，刻畫宣揚俠客精神。

Source: Wikipedia in Chinese

Both versions have a section on common elements and themes found in the wuxia genre. This is good, because it helps us break down the core of the genre, and how we can bring this out of the historical setting.

“Wu” encompasses the traditions of martial arts and its accompanying subculture. There are plenty of martial arts schools in China and other parts of the world, so it would be easy to research how they have adapted to the modern world.

“Xia” is a bit harder. The Chinese version stops at the definition that it is a Confucian value, whereas the English version breaks the definition down into more items. Let me copy down what the English version states in its “Code of xia” section:

The eight common attributes of the xia are listed as benevolence, justice, individualism, loyalty, courage, truthfulness, disregard for wealth, and desire for glory. Apart from individualism, these characteristics are similar to Confucian values such as ren (仁; "benevolence", "kindness"), zhong (忠; "loyalty"), yong (勇; "courage", "bravery") and yi (義; "righteousness").[11] The code of xia also emphasises the importance of repaying benefactors after having received deeds of en (恩; "grace", "favour") from others, as well as seeking chou (仇; "vengeance", "revenge") to bring villains to justice. However, the importance of vengeance is controversial, as a number of wuxia works stress Buddhist ideals, which include forgiveness, compassion and a prohibition on killing.

These attributes, as well as the mentioned Buddhist ones, can also be found in works set in modern times.

One core tenet, Jianghu, is emphasized in the Chinese version that it is an idea rather than a tangible location. Below is the original Chinese as well as the Google Translate version in English:

江湖不是一個實際存在的場所，在武俠文化中，江湖則是俠客們的活動範圍，「江湖」強調了它的變動性及危險性，「綠林」顯示了他的違法及不合理性，「武林」則限制了他屬於「武人」的屬性。

這個世界即使偶與歷史背景做結合，但虛構的成分仍然很濃厚，「這場域，自成一格，既模擬現實世界，又別闢蹊徑，擁有自足而完整的範疇、規律，與現實世界大相逕庭，基本上是由作者、讀者在某種默契下『虛構』而成。」

抽離歷史情境而虛構，從另一個角度而言，卻也等同於束縛的鬆綁，無論是經濟、政治、社會、法律的歷史實情如何，都無須顧慮，只須假借個虛擬的「古代」，作者只須擁有歷史常識（不是知識），即足以盡情馳 騁在此一想像的空��，將重心置放在英雄的江湖事業、兒女情長及恩怨讎報之中。

虛擬的「江湖世界」，除了存在「俠客」之外，也出現了大量的外來人物，「如文人社會中的書生、官吏、僚佐；宗教社會中的僧人、尼姑、道士；農村社會中的漁夫、樵子、農人；商人社會中的商賈、仕紳；其他如乞丐、妓女、兒童等。」這些三教九流的人物充實且豐富了新的江湖。經過了歷代小說家的改造，新的江湖走出了歷史，成為了一種虛擬但完整的社會型態。

江湖世界中的人物遵守正邪之分和實力至上的原則，同時也藐視世俗禮法，是自由自在的獨立個體，一般而言分為兩類：一是獨行俠，二是集團人物。前者獨來獨往，不受他人約束，後者統屬在某一具有成文或不成文規範下的「集團」，也就是所謂的「幫派」。

Google Translated English:

Jianghu is not an actual place. In the martial arts culture, Jianghu is the range of activities of the knights. "Jianghu" emphasizes its variability and danger. "Green Forest" shows his illegality and irrationality. "Wulin" "Restricts his attributes as "Martial Man".

Even if this world is combined with historical background, the fictitious component is still very strong. "This domain is self-contained. It not only simulates the real world, but also has no other way. It has a self-contained and complete category, law, and real world. Very different, basically made by authors and readers under some kind of tacit understanding."

From the historical context and fiction, from another point of view, it is also equivalent to loose bondage. No matter what the historical facts of the economy, politics, society, and law, there is no need to worry about, just fake a virtual "ancient", The author only needs to have historical common sense (not knowledge), which is enough to ride the space imagined here, and put the focus on the hero's cause and effect, the love of children and the complaint.

In addition to the existence of " knights ", there are also a large number of foreign characters in the virtual "Jianghu World", "such as scholars, officials, and bureaucrats in a literati society; monks, nuns, and priests in a religious society; and fishermen in a rural society. , Woodcutters, peasants; merchants, gentry in the merchant society; others such as beggars, prostitutes, children, etc." These three-religious figures have enriched and enriched the new rivers and lakes. After the transformation of novelists in the past, new rivers and lakes have gone out of history and become a virtual but complete social form.

The characters in the Jianghu world abide by the principles of righteousness and evil and the supremacy of power, and also despise the secular etiquette. They are free and independent individuals, generally divided into two categories: one is the lone traveler, and the other is the group characters. The former travels alone and is not bound by others, while the latter belongs to a "group" under written or unwritten norms, so-called " gangs ."

This reflects well the core definition of the wuxia genre, as well as highlighting that its historical format is not strictly necessary. A modern setting is quite possible!

There are more themes and concepts covered in the Wikipedia articles, but for now the main definition of the genre has been covered.

The issue of “scientific” versus “magical” is a complex one to tackle, specifically because many of the subgenres in martial arts films (or literature) rely upon a suspension of disbelief in some element or another. Usually this relates to either the plot - lending an element of the ridiculous - or the style of fighting - lending an element of skepticality.

This is usually because the goal of the story matters more. In wuxia and related genres, this is due to a moral compass being instilled in main characters, and functions as one of the main driving forces behind the plot. This is something popular of many action films, ranging from John Wick to Kill Bill to Kingsman. Morality is a popular element in storytelling, though admittedly popularity often rests on how visually appealing it is (something more difficult with text).

Because of this, it ultimately does not matter how realistic the fighting is or is not - so long as the main concepts are covered, then you have a wuxia story. That being said, martial arts often stretches the preconceived notions of what a human body can do; with sufficient training, things like high jumps (x, x) and triple kicks (x, x) are well within the realm of believability.

Ninja Assassin has realistic martial artistry, but it bends believability under the assumption that an audience’s preconceived scope of potential is very narrow. The same goes approximately for The Grandmaster (2013), albeit from a literally historical perspective while being set in the mid 20th century.

Some popular films that you could use as a reference for varying degrees of suspending disbelief are: Kung Fu Hustle (2004), The Night Comes for Us (2018), The Karate Kid (either version), and Fatal Contact (2006).

In terms of moving around the “fantasy” part of wuxia to something similar, The Matrix series accomplishes many wuxia themes, and some rather pointedly, while occupying a futuristic setting.

While I don’t know if this precisely answers your question, particularly in regards to the technical feasibility of martial arts as popularly demonstrated in wuxia, I would be more than happy to expand on my answer if you wish.

[an-avid-reader]

The Hate U Give - Angie Thomas

my rating: 5/5 stars

On the night of a party gone wrong in Garden Heights, or “the hood”, Starr and her childhood best friend, Khalil, drive away only to be stopped by a white police officer. Khalil, unarmed, gets shot right in front of Starr’s eyes. Alas, Starr’s worlds—Garden Heights and Williamson, a predominantly white prep school—collide as word of Khalil’s death spreads and she is the only witness. Will Starr be able to bring justice to Khalil via riot and protests, or will he be remembered as a drug dealer and a thug?

"Funny how it works with white kids though. It's dope to be black until it's hard to be black"

Link to Goodreads || Spoiler-free review

A few things to check out:

Dear White People (Netflix)

When They See Us (Netflix)

Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race (Book)

A list of places to donate to / one YT video if you’re unable to donate 

Here’s a post that is much more comprehensive

let me know if any of the links don’t work, I will update them :)

There’s a reason why this book has quite a few awards on the front—this book covers what some may consider a “taboo” topic aka racism, but it’s an issue. I’m writing this review slightly earlier than before I’m posting it, but right now the current news is about George Floyd’s death, which is arguably more brutal than what happened in this book, but the fact that some police officers still think race has something to do with one’s intentions is outrageous and disgusting. Even in Canada, there have been instances of racism across history (spoiler: Canada isn’t a ‘saint nation’, even though the population is very diverse). 

For these reasons, I think this book, while it is triggering, I think it should be fit into the curriculum for students to read so that they may be educated on racism, and how it can literally kill others, as well as to try and dismantle the systematic racism that is imposed on us from a young age. I can never sit here and tell you that I can experience what Starr went through (or what any POC—black or otherwise—has ever been through), I can only educate myself and emphasize with what’s been said/done to you—please call me out if I’ve said something that may be offensive and feel free to correct me if I’ve said anything wrong.

Alright now on with the book review! This book is so raw and powerful, Thomas does a great job of describing the scenes and the emotions Starr goes through during each scene. We get to see how she feels about dating a white boy while being black herself, how her neighbourhood is beautiful despite it being described as the hood, we also get to see how Starr’s demeanor completely changes while she’s at school vs when she’s visiting her family. While Thomas’ writing may be simple, she does a great job of capturing those moments and the emotions tied within the scene.

As we get to see Starr becoming a witness and taking legal action, I wasn’t sure where the story was headed. Would Khalil get justice and would the cop go to jail? How would Starr’s mental health be affected? Will her family be okay? (Don’t you just love it when there’s so much more conflict in the story that needs to be resolved and yet there are only 2 chapters left) Etc. etc. The thing about The Hate U Give is that there are multiple story lines, which help to drive the story forwards. Those plotlines didn’t feel out of place or forced—everything seemed to progress at a reasonable pace. 

I feel like one of the key parts of this story are the characters and their dynamics to the story. The most obvious being between Starr and her family. Although Starr has her own secrets that she keeps from her dad (*cough cough* Chris *cough cough*), I feel like they still have a strong bond, especially as the story went on and her dad, Maverick, stood behind Starr, even when things went south. (I could also 100% relate to Starr bickering with her brothers—even her half-brother). Then there’s Chris, which I kinda feel weird about him...which I feel like it’s a spoiler so I’ll talk about it under the cut. Overall, I’m glad that while he doesn’t understand what Starr has been through, he doesn’t judge her—he listens to her story and he also stays by Starr’s side at all times. I appreciate that Thomas didn’t put too much focus on the romance, otherwise I think it would’ve detracted from the main message. Finally, there are Starr friends. Even though we only got to know Khalil for a bit at the beginning, I like that Starr’s friendship with him was sprinkled throughout the story, even if it was in subtle ways. You could tell that, while their friendship may have fallen apart, Starr really cared for him and he was at the forefront of her mind. We also get to see Maya and Haliey’s friendship with Starr...and I can’t talk much about that without spoilers :/ let’s just say...it was interesting…

While I can’t exactly relate to Starr on an emotional/traumatic/life experience level, I love that we are both Harry Potter fans and she runs a Tumblr (which idk why but I’m always taken aback when books have Tumblrs?? Yet here we are). I appreciate that she tries to see the best in people, until they prove her wrong (or give her a reason to not like them). I think Starr is a strong role model in the sense that she stands up for herself and is determined to get justice, although she’s not cocky about it. It’s quite the opposite, she doubts herself—I just remember that there were so many parts where she blamed herself for not recalling every single detail of the incident or not putting emphasis on the type of person Khalil was to avoid him getting stereotyped. Starr also questioned her relationship with Chris, albeit she seemed a bit naive at some points. Because of Starr’s strong personality and her core values, the message of The Hate U Give is so much stronger, hence why I feel like everyone should read this novel.

Finally, I learned a lot from this novel. Regardless of the fact that this is a fictional book, it is very much based on the realities of Black people and the hardships they must endure on a daily basis. To be honest, I feel so dumb for not even realizing that the title spells out THUG and runs parallel with Tupac’s meaning of THUG LIFE. Mind you, now when I look at the cover, it’s all I see. I also didn’t realize that Black kids and teens are taught how to act around the police—all to be avoided to get arrested, shot, or killed—which is frankly, messed up. Thomas also takes the time to address the names she used, intentionally to give another layer of the book, which I feel that it is based on reality. I can definitely see why this book has received so many awards—and if this book were implemented in schools, it would allow the discussion on racism to be opened and it would also allow kids to see that not all authors are white, old men (looking at you, Shakespeare, which tbh the only good play I read was Macbeth).

I wanted to thank you for reading my review; if you’ve read this book, I’d love to know your thoughts. Below the cut, I have a spoiler section that I wanted to include (which I might add in future reviews, idk though). 

Please stay safe and healthy,

~ Cassandra / an-avid-reader

THE REMAINDER OF THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS

Okay, I’m not going to lie, but I thought that no one knew about Chris; didn’t Starr mention within the first few chapters that she can’t introduce him to her family because she’s afraid of what they’ll say/judge her for dating a white boy? But then, it turns out it’s just her dad that doesn’t know about him??? Idk if my memory is really that bad or if it’s such a slim detail (maybe it actually is an inconsistency o.O). But anyways, I love how Maverick was just playing with him (and making it clear that Chris would be in big trouble if he hurt Starr). I’m also not sure if he has a fetish for Black women (which Starr also pointed that out)—which I don’t know how to feel about that. I know some people have a thing for people of colour (Asians are commonly a fetish too, for example) but then some guys also have a thing for super short girls? Um yeah. I’ll probably leave it at that.

I’m not sure if it was just me, but I deadass thought Seven was going to be a gangbanger. He was sooooo suspicious anytime King was mentioned (which I get King is with Seven’s biological mom, but still I can’t be the only one who was suspicious, right?). I have to give him props though for putting his sisters’ needs before his own and for also listening to Iesha’s point of view. This man doesn’t give on people easily, and that’s a nice change. 

The last thing I wanted to include in this spoiler section is Haliey. I just— wtf man. She perfectly embodies the issue and idk she gave me such Karen vibes. It’s so frustrating that she just accepted the newspaper’s article story at face value—I don’t even think she even took the time to listen to the other point of view. I’m so glad that Starr punched her in the face, even though that resulted in her getting in trouble. And it’s not even towards just Starr that she was racist! When Maya opened up about Haliey’s comments, I was pretty infuriated. I think Haliey’s comments came from a place of ignorance or a lack of education, but it just bothered me that she just brushed it off. Smh “it was just a joke” or “get over it” *rolls eyes* Just apologize, Haliey, and educate yourself, please. Actually, maybe she could take lessons from Mr. Warren, their english teacher because he was lowkey a G. I was pleased to see he was a teacher (who are often seen as role models) that actually gave a crap about Starr and what she was going through. I guess we just need to be more attentive to what people have to say and be more empathetic when they’re hurt.

[dillydedalus]

january reading

why does january always feel like it’s 3 months long. anyway here’s what i read in january, feat. poison experts with ocd, ants in your brain, old bolsheviks getting purged, and mountweazels. 

city of lies, sam hawke (poison wars #1) this is a perfectly nice fantasy novel about jovan, who serves as essentially a secret guard against poisoning for his city state’s heir and is forced to step up when his uncle (also a secret poison guard) and the ruler are both killed by an unknown poison AND also the city is suddenly under a very creepy siege (are these events related? who knows!) this is all very fine & entertaining & there are some fun ideas, but also... the main character has ocd and SAME HAT SAME HAT. also like the idea of having a very important, secret and potentially fatal job that requires you to painstakingly test everything the ruler/heir is consuming WHILE HAVING OCD is like... such a deliciously sadistic concept. amazing. 3/5

my heart hemmed in, marie ndiaye (translated from french by jordan stump) a strange horror-ish tale in which two married teachers, bastions of upper-middle-class respectability and taste, suddenly find themselves utterly despised by everyone around them, escalating until the husband is seriously injured. through several very unexpected twists, it becomes clear that the couple’s own contempt for anyone not fitting into their world and especially nadia’s hostility and shame about her (implied to be northern african) ancestry is the reason for their pariah status. disturbing, surprising, FUCKED UP IF TRUE (looking back, i no longer really know what i mean by that). 4/5

xenogenesis trilogy (dawn/adulthood rites/imago), octavia e. butler octavia butler is incapable of writing anything uninteresting and while i don’t always completely vibe with her stuff, it’s always fascinating & thought-provoking. this series combines some of her favourite topics (genetic manipulation, alien/human reproduction, what is humanity) into a tale of an alien species, the oankali, saving some human survivors from the apocalypse and beginning a gene-trading project with them, integrating them into their reproductive system and creating mixed/’construct’ generations with traits from both species. and like, to me, this was uncomfortably into the biology = destiny thing & didn’t really question the oankali assertion that humans were genetically doomed to hierarchical behaviour & aggression (& also weirdly straight for a book about an alien species with 3 genders that engages in 5-partner-reproduction with humans), so that angle fell flat for me for the most part, altho i suppose i do agree that embracing change, even change that comes at a cost, is better than clinging to an unsustainable (& potentially destructive) purity. where i think the series is most interesting is in its exploration of consent and in how far consent is possible in extremely one-sided power dynamics (curiously, while the oankali condemn and seem to lack the human drive for hierarchy, they find it very easy to abuse their position of power & violate boundaries & never question the morality of this. in this, the first book, focusing on a human survivor first encountering the oankali and learning of their project, is the most interesting, as lilith as a human most explicitly struggles with her position - would her consent be meaningful? can she even consent when there is a kind of biochemical dependence between humans and their alien mates? the other two books, told from the perspectives of lilith’s constructed/mixed children, continue discussing themes of consent, autonomy and power dynamics, but i found them less interesting the further they moved from human perspectives. on the whole: 2.5/5

love & other thought experiments, sophie ward man, we love a pierre menard reference. anyway. this is a novel in stories, each based (loosely) on a thought experiment, about (loosely) a lesbian couple and their son arthur, illness and grief, parenthood, love, consciousness and perception, alternative universes, and having an ant in your brain. it is thoroughly delightful & clever, but goes for warmth and humanity (or ant-ity) over intellectual games (surprising given that it is all about thought experiments - but while they are a nice structuring device i don’t think they add all that much). i haven’t entirely worked out my feelings about the ending and it’s hard to discuss anyway given the twists and turns this takes, but it's a whole lot of fun. 4/5

a general theory of oblivion, josé eduardo agualusa (tr. from portuguese by daniel hahn) interesting little novel(la) set in angola during and after the struggle for independence, in which a portuguese woman, ludo, with extreme agoraphobia walls herself into her apartment to avoid the violence and chaos (but also just... bc she has agoraphobia) with a involving a bunch of much more active characters and how they are connected to her to various degrees. i didn’t like the sideplot quite as much as ludo’s isolation in her walled-in flat with her dog, catching pigeons on the balcony and writing on the walls. 3/5

cassandra at the wedding, dorothy baker phd student cassandra returns home attend (sabotage) her twin sister judith’s wedding to a young doctor whose name she refuses to remember, believing that her sister secretly wants out. cass is a mess, and as a shift to judith’s perspective reveals, definitely wrong about what judith wants and maybe a little delusional, but also a ridiculously compelling narrator, the brilliant but troubled contrast to judith’s safer conventionality. on the whole, cassandra’s narrative voice is the strongest feature of a book i otherwise found a bit slow & a bit heavy on the quirky family. fav line is when cass, post-character-development, plans to “take a quick look at [her] dumb thesis and see if it might lead to something less smooth and more revolting, or at least satisfying more than the requirements of the University”. 3/5

the office of historical corrections, danielle evans a very solid collection of realist short stories (+ the titular novella), mainly dealing with racism, (black) womanhood, relationships between women, and anticolonial/antiracist historiography. while i thought all the stories were well-done and none stood out as weak or an unnecessary inclusion, there also weren’t any that really stood out to me. 3/5

sonnenfinsternis, arthur koestler (english title: darkness at noon) (audio) you know what’s cool about this book? when i added it to my goodreads tbr in 2012, i would have had to read it in translation as the german original was lost during koestler’s escape from the nazis, but since then, the original has been rediscovered and republished. yet another proof that leaving books on your tbr for ages is a good thing actually. anyway. this is a story about the stalinist purges, told thru old bolshevik rubashov, who, after serving the Party loyally for years & doing his fair share of selling people out for the Party, is arrested for ~oppositional activities. in jail and during his interrogations, rubashov reflects on the course the Party has taken and his own part (and guilt) in that, and the way totalitarianism has eaten up and poisoned even the most commendable ideals the Party once held (and still holds?), the course of history and at what point the end no longer justifies the means. it’s brilliant, rubashov is brilliant and despicable, i’m very happy it was rediscovered. 5/5

heads of the colored people, nafissa thompson-spires another really solid short story collection, also focused on the experiences of black people in america (particularly the black upper-middle class), black womanhood and black relationships, altho with a somewhat more satirical tone than danielle evans’s collection. standouts for me were the story in letters between the mothers of the only black girls at a private school, a story about a family of fruitarians, and a story about a girl who fetishises her disabled boyfriend(s). 3.5/5

pedro páramo, juan rulfo (gernan transl. by dagmar ploetz) mexican classic about a rich and abusive landowner (the titular pedro paramo) and the ghost town he leaves behind - quite literally, as, when his son tries to find his father, the town is full of people, quite ready to talk shit about pedro, but they are all dead. it’s an interesting setting with occasionally vivid writing, but the skips in time and character were kind of confusing and i lost my place a lot. i’d be interested in reading rulfo’s other major work, el llano en llamas. 2.5/5

verse für zeitgenossen, mascha kaléko short collection of the poems kaléko, a jewish german poet, wrote while in exile in the united states in the 30-40s, as well as some poems written after the end of ww2. kaléko’s voice is witty, but at turns also melancholy or satirical. as expected i preferred the pieces that directly addressed the experience of exile (”sozusagen ein mailied” is one of my favourite exillyrik pieces). 3/5

the harpy, megan hunter yeah this was boooooooring. the cover is really cool & the premise sounded intriguing (women gets cheated on, makes deal with husband that she is allowed to hurt him three times in revenge, women is also obsessed with harpies: female revenge & female monsters is my jam) but it’s literally so dull & trying so hard to be deep. 1.5/5

the liar’s dictionary, eley williams this is such a delightful book, from the design (those marbled endpapers? yes) to the preface (all about what a dictionary is/could be), to the chapter headings (A-Z words, mostly relating to lies, dishonesty, etc in some way or another, containing at least one fictitious entry), to the dual plots (intern at new edition of a dictionary in contemporary england checking the incomplete old dictionary for mountweazels vs 1899 london with the guy putting the mountweazels in), to williams’s clear joy about words and playing with them. there were so many lines that made me think about how to translate them, which is always a fun exercise. 3.5/5

catherine the great & the small, olja knežević (tr. from montenegrin by ellen elias-bursać, paula gordon) coming-of-age-ish novel about katarina from montenegro, who grows up in  titograd/podgorica and belgrad in the 70s/80s, eventually moving to london as an adult. to be honest while there are some interesting aspects in how this portrays yugoslavia and conflicts between the different parts of yugoslavia, i mostly found this a pretty sloggy slog of misery without much to emotionally connect to, which is sad bc i was p excited for it :(. 2/5

the decameron project: 29 new stories from the pandemic, anthology a collection of short stories written during covid lockdown (and mostly about covid/lockdown in some way). they got a bunch of cool authors, including margaret atwood, edwidge danticat, rachel kushner ... it’s an interesting project and the stories are mostly pretty good, but there wasn’t one that really stood out to me as amazing. i also kinda wish more of the stories had diverged more from covid/lockdown thematically bc it got a lil repetitive tbh. 2/5

[theorynexus]

Unrelated to the Epilogues

Apologies for not getting back to liveblogging, yet; however, that’s going to begin again with my next post.   This one is simply to express some thoughts that have been kicking around in my head for a few days, which I did not get the chance to express because I was sleep deprived and then briefly sick. Namely:   All weapons (or Strife Specibi, I should say) in Homestuck seem to be symbolically representative of the character who owns them to some extent.  A few easy examples would be: * the Dualing Pistol (White Magnum/White Wand), which is elegant and precise, only needing to be fired once to provoke massive, impactful change, and doubly representative of Alt!Calliope’s subtle orchestration of events behind the scenes; * The Dudely [Fire]Arm[ament]s (Caliborn/Lord English’s canes/rifles), which the aforementioned doubled set is contrasted to: whilst they are equally intended to convey mastery of events (and particularly the people taking part in them), these are more brutish, and make their impact through repeated blows (a pool cue arranges things through a loud, meaningful break, and then many serious blows to follow--- and while these blows might in theory require precision in order to make the balls fall where they must, in practice, Caliborn’s talent is in ensuring that every hit eventually brings things to a favorable conclusion, rather than in the shortest route possible).   Brute force methods are used to bring about the desired conclusion--- an inevitable death, generally  ---and the overkill that Caliborn (the Lord of Death, in some ways) utilizes whenever his rifle’s sights fall upon a target (for it’s never a single bullet that hits) is representative of his general methodology and spirit. *  Dave’s broken/mended sword, split over time, is obviously representative of his own Aspect, how it gradually affects him (time heals all wounds, as the saying goes, despite the fact that he seems to become quite incensed with it at some points, and struggles with it to the point of refusing to embrace it for a very long time), and especially how his personal history ties into his personal arc (Dave is more affected by his time with his Guardian than perhaps any other kid, despite the fact that Jade is fused with the replacement surrogate that might arguably be said to have usurped the position from her grandpa, and this is also a reflection on the Aspect of Time in his life, I should think).     How Bro (Dirk) Broke his Heart, and how Dave struggled to mend it over the course of the series has been much better discussed elsewhere than I could attempt to express in the brief space I’m allotting to this discussion, here, though, and thus I shall cut this off right here, just as both brothers have a habit off symbolically cutting things off, themselves. ~~~ The train of thought that I am wanting to express herein started with a thought that caught me by surprise:   I continue to have no idea what, precisely John’s Strife Specibus is supposed to represent, you see, so when I remembered that there was a method of inheritance called Gavelkind, it struck me that it could be related to this, as a pun.  Unfortunately, this seems like a dead end, unless it is a very forward thinking joke about every member of his party taking up the main character mantle after he dies in the “more canon [more relevant in Dirk’s eyes]” Meat Epilogue (or, alternatively, Davesprite and Rose’s inherited self from the timeline having to clean up John’s mess after the idiot got himself obliterated in the deal he made with Typheus after Terezi tricked him).     It could also be related to him forging the group through his Heir of Breath inspiration toward a path mechanic, but what are the chances of it being that simple an answer?   Unfortunately, said inheritance business seemed more promising than it was, because I was initially confusing it with the Elective method of kingmaking that is to be found in German historical culture. That truly fits with who John is, and resonates with the “I’m not your leader, I’m your friend” humblepie that was served up to us (and everyone else in his party). ... This line of thinking was useful, however, because it led me to thinking about Karkat’s own weapon.  Obviously, the “Heh, heh, Communism” line of thinking briefly occurred to me, but more relevantly, I thought of the reason why the sickle is used as a symbol of Communism.  It is a classic symbol of the lower class--- farmers, in particular  ---which hints at the very beginning to Karkat’s rather humble origins. While many people might like to think of his mutant blood as “potentially higher than fuschia,” or some such nonsense, more realistically, one has to realize that Karkat was placed in the lowest of low positions: not only was he the only member of his kind, but he would have been without a Lusus and immediately abandoned to death, if the worshipers of his Ancestor had not ensured that he had the dimmest possibility of a relatively normal life. At the same time, he wanted to defy this lowborn status and become a mighty general in )-(er Imperious Condescension’s army.   While this initial spark of revolution was not much, it is representative of all that was to come-- you see, the sickle is to some extent also a symbol of revolt, and while peasant revolts would generally be brutally put down throughout history (just as the waves of opposition to the Condesce were in Alternian lore), this would not in fact be the case with Karkat, or the session that he (and Aradia) would lead. You see, Karkat’s own ideals and the weapon that represents them are but the tip of the iceberg.  The Beta Trolls’ entire session was littered with themes of rebellion against the established social order, and the consequent turning of it upon its head.   First and most obviously, it would be two Lowborn trolls that would come to lead the two “teams” which the session had to offer. Both of these figures acquired this position by usurping it from Bluebloods, who might traditionally have taken up this role in a circumstance where the empress-to-be didn’t show interest in leadership and the Purple Blood in the group appeared to be an incompetent, serially inebriated sack of garbage. This theme particularly shown through in [concupiscent] romance, where we saw pairings that, without exception (other than possibly the crush that Ms. Leijon bore for Karkat, which saw no fruition and arguably did not count for anything, just as Eridan’s flushed feelings for Feferi didn’t “matter” in the end, and Kanaya x Vriska, while being a borderline issue for this topic, doesn’t count either, also due to it just being a crush), all saw subversion of social hierarchy:

Equius x Aradia, Gamzee x Tavros, Feferi x Sollux {I just noticed that these relationships all have the same social distance from one another for some reason.}, Terezi x Karkat. Vriska x Tavros is one-sided, and thus debatable, but also fits this pattern, intriguingly enough. Equius was hit with this subversive force in their social lives particularly hard, possibly because he was the Heir of Void, and thus was more inundated with forces of subtext than the rest of the group [particularly since he was a failure in that role].   Not only could he not resist the drive to submit to those it was “perverse” for one of his “station” to bend the knee to, when the opportunity to truly embrace the anti-normative forces that he had been dipping into (despite his Classist upbringing) came, he was so confused and uncertain that he could not properly understand what he was being pushed to do, and the necessity of it--- and thus froze, allowing himself to be swept away by the Rage Gamzee filled him with. These themes play out in Operation Regisurp, both in name and its practical implementation.  Furthermore, I have just, in the course of writing this post, come to the conclusion that this is why Gamzee had to be the final obstacle to the true end of the Beta Trolls’ session.  He was a crystallized manifestation of the old regime, and its established order:  Gamzee acted as a shadow of the Condesce’s will, the Hemospectrum’s implications, and the brutal reality that was Alternia.    It was thus quite fitting that Karkat was the one to stop his rampage, for he was the Knight of Blood who cajoled everyone to work together as a single team, rejecting the classical restrictions that would have spelled DOOM for their party in favor of bonds beyond the literal nature of the blood that flowed through all of their veins.   Furthermore, I think this is why that confrontation ended in the Shush Pap scene.   Not only was it true that Karkat had literally zero percent chance of actually killing Gamzee in the fight (and a very small chance, indeed, to defeat him through violence), but this would to some extent additionally be an endorsement of the old Alternian way of life.  Rather than through violence, Karkat used his bond with Gamzee to find a solution, and by this means, turned him away from his role as brutal Subjugglator--- though unfortunately this also meant that Gamzee would take a turn for the worse, becoming even more firmly cemented in his role as a servant to the Mirthful Messiah’s. ... Heading back to the meaning of Karkat’s weapon for a moment, I think that the sickle has another implication to explore: it is an implement of the harvest.  Karkat initially wanted to be a sort of grim reaper, slaughtering Alternia’s foes and claiming glory for himself and for his empress. While he was correct in thinking that he just needed an opportunity to prove himself (and thus, he was embracing the symbolic “one must wait until the fruits of the harvest are ripe” implications of the sickle in his own life), the climax of this narrative arc would come when Karkat found himself at the head of Meenah’s united army of all the trolls in the afterlife and bravely charged to meet a foe he knew could destroy the soul with very breath--- and the very real equivalent of the Grim Reaper, himself ---wielding the closest thing he had to a weapon painted with the rainbow (Fuschia an Lime Green bound together betwixt bands of black and white, thus singled out amidst all the colors of the light spectrum). This was his ultimate rejection of the Alternia that was, as he challenged the hidden hand that had twisted it into the place of horror it had been; and upon the fulfillment of that destiny, Karkat would vanish.

Yet, by some miracle, this was not the end: in a place separated beyond barriers of space and time, he would awaken, and but a short time later, he would be granted the Ultimate Reward that had once been wrenched from his grasp. ....................................................................................................................... One last matter of note:  It should be pretty obvious, considering the fact that universes are shaped to reflect the wills and designs of the Players involved, but I am pretty sure humans’ singularly colored blood is an explicit rejection of the hemospectrum, and the particular color that was “chosen” may very well be reflective of the important role Karkat in particular played in the session. What may not be so obvious is how fitting, symbolically, it is that it is a human that stands triumphant over the corpse of )-(er Imperious Condescension.  Curse baggage aside (which still has been irksomely unexplored, to my knowledge), the fact that it is essentially the Beta Trolls’ rejection of her world order that does the empress in feels very right and, upon reflection, is quite beautiful.   Obviously, there’s also a nice splash of revenge playing into that too, as visibly denoted by the weapon used and the handle wrapping, in particular.  I am curious as to the implications of Roxy’s typing color being the same as the blood of said fishy tyrant, though. That, I can’t quite figure out.

[projectawe]

Sex, Seduction, and Secret Societies: Byron, the Carbonari and Freemasonry

By Dr. David Harrison, PROJECT AWE SCHOLAR

The eighteenth century was a period which witnessed the development of English Freemasonry as a social phenomenon, with the society undergoing constant transitions, modernizations and rebellions.  The society had split into two main rival factions in 1751, with two grand lodges existing, the Moderns and the Antients, and as a result the society expanded, with Masonic lodges by both organizations being founded throughout England, Europe and the American colonies.  The influence of the society on artists, writers and free thinkers was immense, and this paper will examine the influence of the Craft on one particular writer and revolutionary, the Romantic poet George Gordon Byron, the 6th Baron Byron.

George Gordon Byron (fig. 1) was born in 1788, and is regarded as a leading figure in the Romantic movement as well as one of Britain’s greatest poets. Byron also became known for his scandalous lifestyle, aristocratic excesses, and sexual and social intrigues, but even though he was not a Freemason, he did, as we shall see, have rather deep rooted connections to the society. After the publication of his first epic poem Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage (fig. 2) in 1812, Byron was, for a time, the toast of Regency London; he was elected to the most exclusive of gentlemen’s clubs, he had affairs with desirable women, an affair with Lady Caroline Lamb led to her to label him with the immortal line ‘Mad, bad and dangerous to know’. Byron also took an interest in the same sex and was also rumored to have had an affair with his half sister. The scandals, rumors and gossip led to him leaving England for good in 1816.

Freemasonry certainly fascinated another writer who was linked to the Romantic movement; Thomas de Quincey, also known as the Opium Eater after his auto-biographical work that detailed his addiction to laudanum. De Quincey wrote the Origin of the Rosicrucians and the Free-Masons which was first published in January 1824, a work that attempted to examine the origins of these entwined secret societies. Though de Quincey was not a Mason, like Byron, he was aware of Freemasonry, the history and the nature of secret societies providing a profound interest. De Quincey, like the poets William Blake and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, also drew inspiration from the works of Emmanuel Swedenborg, the Swedish visionary who later lent his name to the Masonic Swedenborgian Rite.[1] Freemasonry certainly attracted poets such as Robert Burns, a Scottish Mason who is often observed as a pioneer of the Romantic Movement.

The Poet and artist William Blake was also influenced by Freemasonry in his artwork, incorporating what can be interpreted as Masonic themes in works such as Newton and The Ancient of Days.[2] Another writer and friend of Byron’s who was a Freemason was Dr John William Polidori (fig. 3). Polidori was Byron’s personal physician who wrote the short Gothic story The Vampyre, which was the first ever published Vampire story in English. The story was based on Byron’s Fragment of a Novel – a story composed at the Villa Diodati by Lake Geneva in Switzerland in June 1816, during the same time Mary Shelley produced what would later develop into Frankenstein. Polidori became a Freemason in 1818,[3] his story being published the following year.[4]

The ‘Wicked Lord’

Byron’s  great uncle, the eccentric fifth Lord Byron, had been Grand Master of the ‘Premier’ or ‘Modern’ Grand Lodge from 1747-51, and it may have been through him that the poet developed a familiarity with the themes of Freemasonry. As we shall see, Byron mentioned Freemasonry in his poetry, and commonly celebrated classical architecture in his work, discussing the many Temples of antiquity.  Byron, who had been on the Grand Tour, continuously praised the lost knowledge of the ancient world, and in his epic poem Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, he attacked Lord Elgin for his plunder of the Parthenon, and expressed the hidden mysteries held within the classical Temples:

‘Here let me sit upon this massy stone,

The marble column’s yet unshaken base!

Here, son of Saturn! Was thy favourite throne:

Mightiest of many such!  Hence let me trace

The latent grandeur of thy dwelling-place.

It may not be: nor even can Fancy’s eye

Restore what Time hath labour’d to deface.

Yet these proud pillars claim no passing sigh;

               Unmoved the Moslem sits, the light Greek carols by.’[5]

Byron’s great uncle, the ‘Wicked Lord’, hosted regular ritualistic weekend parties on his estate Newstead Abbey, in a somewhat similar fashion to Sir Francis Dashwood’s Hell Fire and Dilettanti meetings at West Wycombe.  The ‘Wicked Lord’ was a rather clubbable gentleman, being involved in an aristocratic dining club which met in the Star and Garter Tavern in London.  However, true to his wild nature, he killed his neighbor William Chaworth during an argument, who was also a fellow member of his club, resulting in a murder trial in the House of Lords in 1765.  He was eventually found guilty of manslaughter and, after the payment of a fine, he was a free man, though as a result of the scandal became a recluse, living in debt with his mistress in the decaying Gothic splendor of Newstead Abbey[6].  He certainly had a profound influence on his heir, the inheritance of the Gothic Abbey supplying a haunting and melancholy inspiration to the poet.

According to H.J. Whymper writing in AQC, the ‘Wicked Lord’ had been a popular and a somewhat charismatic Grand Master, and his absence during six out of ten Grand Lodge meetings was attributed to being on business out of the country.  During his term as Grand Master he showed none of the temper or eccentricity of his later years, and the minutes of the Grand Lodge during his office revealed a Grand Master who was far from ‘Wicked’[7]. Whymper was indeed sympathetic to Byron’s Grand Mastership, and dismissed Gould’s view of the ‘Wicked Lord’, Gould having written that ‘the affairs of the Society were much neglected, and to this period of misrule, aggravated by the summary erasure of numerous lodges, we must look, I think, for the cause of that organized rebellion against authority, resulting in the great Schism.’ Gould clearly placing the blame for the formation of the ‘Antients’ with Byron.[8]  Whymper put forward that Byron’s image was certainly tainted after his conviction of manslaughter, leading to his ‘unpopularity’ being ‘improperly seized upon to account for the dissensions in the Craft…’[9]

Lord Byron, Don Juan, the Carbonari and Revolution

Byron was certainly aware of Freemasonry, though he mentioned it only twice in his epic poem Don Juan. He first commented on the aristocratic networking aspects of the Craft in Canto XIII, Verse XXIV:

‘And thus acquaintance grew at noble routs

And diplomatic dinners or at other –

For Juan stood well both with Ins and Outs,

As in Freemasonry a higher brother.

Upon his talent Henry had no doubts;

His manner showed him sprung from a higher mother,

And all men like to show their hospitality,

To him whose breeding matched with this quality.’[10]

Byron seemed to be referring to the hierarchical system of Freemasonry, which at Grand Lodge level, was dominated by the gentry and led by certain charismatic aristocrats, Don Juan being portrayed as moving in well-connected and well-bred circles.  He then touched upon the Craft once more in Canto XIV, Verse XXII of the same poem, commenting on the more mysterious and secretive aspects of Freemasonry:

‘And therefore what I throw off is ideal -

Lowered, leavened like a history of Freemasons

Which bears the same relation to the real,

As Captain Parry’s voyage may do to “Jason’s.”

The Grand Arcanum’s not for men to see all;

My music has some mystic diapasons;

And there is much which could not be appreciated

In any manner by the uninitiated’[11]

The alliteration of the words ‘Lowered’ and ‘leavened’ gives an emphasis to the mention of ‘a history of Freemasons’, a Masonic metaphor suggesting a transformation of sorts. Byron also refers to the ‘uninitiated’, and how they cannot appreciate the mystical secrets of the ‘Grand Arcanum’ and thus will never find what was lost.

There is no evidence of Byron being a Freemason, but he was a member of the Italian Carbonari, a Masonic-like secret society which shared similar symbolism though had a radical political ethos.  Carbonari means ‘makers of charcoal’, though like Freemasonry, the secret society was of a speculative nature, and symbolically represented political and social purification, the brethren spreading liberty, morality, and progress.  Having left England in 1816, Byron entered into a self-imposed exile to escape the scandalous rumours and mounting debt. It was during his period in Italy that Byron wrote parts of Don Juan, the leading character also becoming entwined in secret societies and political and sexual intrigue.

The Carbonari shared similar secret symbolism with Freemasonry, and met in lodges which, like Freemasonry, conducted a ritual.  The Carbonari however were linked to militant revolutionaries in Italy who desired a democratic constitution and freedom from Austrian domination, and were the driving force behind the Naples uprising in 1820.  Byron, being attracted to the rich political intrigue and the Romantic idea of revolution, was elected ‘Capo’ of the ‘Americani’, a branch of the Carbonari in Ravenna, where Byron stayed between 1819 – 1821, buying arms for the cause and meeting with senior members of the conspiracy.[12]  Indeed, he writes excitedly of his Carbonari associations on February 18th, 1821:

‘To-day I have had no communication with my Carbonari cronies: but, in the mean time, my lower apartments are full of their bayonets, fusils, cartridges, and what not. I suppose they consider me as a depot, to be sacrificed, in case of accidents. It is no great matter, supposing that Italy could be liberated, who or what is sacrificed, it is a grand object – the very poetry of politics. Only think – a free Italy!!!’[13]

Another poet linked to the Carbonari was Gabriel Rossetti, whose revolutionary affiliations in Italy forced him into exile in 1821, and much later the Italian general Giuseppe Garibaldi became involved in the society during the early 1830s.[14] After their initial defeats of 1821, the Carbonari played a successful role in the July 1830 Revolution in France, but a subsequent rising in Italy resulted in failure and a government crackdown on the society ensued. By 1848 they had ceased to exist.

Byron subsequently became attracted to the Greek struggle against the Ottomans, and left for Greece in 1823. Taking up a similar role to what he had fulfilled with the Carbonari, Byron generously financing the Greek cause, paying for the so-called ‘Byron Brigade’ and arming the revolution. Byron found himself having to somewhat navigate the differing factions within the Greek cause, yet he embraced the war of independence wholeheartedly and was prepared to give his fortune in aid of the cause. However, Byron was to die in Greece of fever in April 1824 at the young age of 36. He is considered a National hero to the Greeks.

Newstead Abbey

If one knows where to look when visiting Newstead Abbey, the ancestral home of Byron, one can find Masonic symbolism, for example the guttering is decorated with the Seal of Solomon (fig. 4), although this dates from the occupation of Colonel Thomas Wildman, a Freemason and an old school friend of Byron’s from Harrow, who eventually purchased the estate from the cash-strapped poet in 1818. Wildman became Provincial Grand Master for Nottinghamshire, and was a close friend and equerry to the Duke of Sussex, who visited Newstead on several occasions.

Wildman constructed the Sussex Tower at Newstead in honor of the Grand Master, and improved the Chapter House as a private family chapel.  When Wildman died in 1859, the estate was purchased by William Frederick Webb, who had the chapel re-decorated, and in memory of Wildman, Webb had a stained glass window designed with the central Masonic theme of the construction of Solomon’s Temple (fig. 5), which may also echo the building work that Wildman undertook at Newstead.  Wildman founded the Royal Sussex Lodge in Nottingham in 1829, and there is also a Byron Lodge in the area which celebrates the Masonic links to the poet, his family and Newstead.  Masonic services are still held at the chapel by the lodge.

The Masonic symbolism displayed at Newstead, along with the Solomon's Temple scene on display in the stained glass window, would be instantly recognizable to the initiated, the power and status of both the ‘Wicked Lord’ Byron and Colonel Wildman within Masonic circles being vividly apparent.  A parallel to the Masonic themed stained glass windows and Masonic symbolism in the chapel at Tabley House in Cheshire can be seen here, with Lord de Tabley being the Provincial Grand Master of Cheshire during the later nineteenth century. There is evidence that Masonic services were held in the chapel. Lord de Tabley had a number of lodges named after him in the Cheshire area, including the De Tabley Lodge No. 941.[15]

The majority of English lodges in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, both Antient and Modern, met in taverns and Inns, but for a lodge to be deeply connected to a prominent local aristocrat, it was symbolic of status for that lodge to meet at his residence, providing a much more elitist and private meeting place.  The residences of these important Freemasons became a status symbol proudly boasting the owners Masonic beliefs through the display of symbolism and became an erstwhile home to local lodges, lodges which the owners controlled.  When fellow Masons visited the Hall, they could recognise the symbolism instantly, and also recognise the Masonic status of the owner.  Houses such as Newstead Abbey and Tabley House both celebrated architecture, with the Gothic of Newstead and the classical design of Tabley House, both houses also celebrating Freemasonry, with both aristocratic families becoming central to Freemasonry in their own particular area, serving as Provincial Grand Masters, and all founding their own prestigious lodges.  Newstead undoubtedly had a deep historic link to Freemasonry, and the additional feature of being the residence of the Romantic poet Byron would have certainly added to the status of the building especially amongst the more literary Masonic circles, as his reputation as one of Britain’s leading poets grew in stature as the nineteenth century progressed.

Conclusion

The poet Byron was certainly aware of Freemasonry and was attracted to the intrigue that certain secret societies offered, becoming a member of the Carbonari in Italy. His links to Masonry are certainly celebrated today with the Byron Lodge No. 4014 which still holds Masonic services in the chapel at Newstead Abbey, a lodge that also celebrates the Grand Mastership of the ‘Wicked Lord’ and of Colonel Thomas Wildman’s Provincial work in Nottinghamshire. Byron’s Masonic references in his poetry are few, however the Romantic themes of his verse certainly resound common Masonic themes of the celebration of ancient architecture and the search of what was lost. Perhaps in the end, Byron found his ultimate Romantic zeal in the cause of revolution, the Carbonari providing a society, like Freemasonry, filled with secret symbolism, but unlike Freemasonry, it supplied the poet with the passion of political change and the essence of Romantic revolt and rebellion.

Endnotes

[1] Polidori was a member of the Norwich based Union Lodge No. 52, Initiated on the 31st March 1818, Passed on the 28th April 1818 and Raised on the 1st June 1818.

[2] See John William Polidori, The Vampyre, (London: Sherwood, Neely and Jones, 1819). See also Peter L. Thorslev, The Byronic Hero: Types and Prototypes, (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1962).

[3] See David Harrison, ‘Thomas De Quincey: The Opium Eater and the Masonic Text’, AQC, Vol. 129, (2016), pp.276-281. See also H.J. Jackson, ‘‘Swedenborg’s Meaning is the truth’ Coleridge, Tulk, and Swedenborg’, In Search of the Absolute: Essays on Swedenborg and Literature (Swedenborg Society, 2004). For the influence of Swedenborg on Blake see Peter Ackroyd, Blake, (London: QPD, 1995), pp.101-104. Ackroyd discusses how Blake eventually turned against the ideas of Swedenborg.

[4] David Harrison, The Genesis of Freemasonry, (Hersham: Lewis Masonic, 2009), p.97. See also Ackroyd, Blake, p.185-187.

[5] George Gordon Byron, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, (London: Charles Griffin & Co., 1866), p.54.

[6] The Trial of William Lord Byron For The Murder of William Chaworth Esq; Before The House of Peers in Westminster Hall, in Full Parliament.  London, 1765.  Newstead Abbey Archives, reference NA1051.

[7] See H.J. Whymper ‘Lord Byron G.M.’, AQC, Vol.VI, (1893), pp.17-20.

[8] Ibid., p.17.

[9] Ibid., p.20.

[10] Leslie A. Marchand, (ed.), Don Juan by Lord Byron, Canto XIII, Stanza XXIV, (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1958), p.361.

[11] Ibid, Canto XIV, Stanza XXII, p.385.

[12] See R. Landsdown, ‘Byron and the Carbonari’, History Today, (May, 1991).

[13] See Leslie A. Marchand, (ed.), Byron’s Letters and Journals, Vol. VIII, ‘Born for Opposition’, 1821, (Cambridge MA: Harvard University Press, 1978).

[14] See John Belton, ‘Revolutionary and Socialist Fraternalism 1848-1870: London to the Italian Risorgimento’, AQC, Vol.123, (2010), pp.231-253, in which Belton outlines Garibaldi’s Masonic career as Grand Hierophant of the Sovereign Sanctuary of Memphis-Misraïm between the years 1881-1882.

[15] See Harrison, Genesis of Freemasonry, pp.143-7.

Bibliography

Ackroyd, Peter, Blake, (London: QPD, 1995).

 Anon., The Trial of William Lord Byron For The Murder of William Chaworth Esq; Before The House of Peers in Westminster Hall, in Full Parliament.  London, 1765.  Newstead Abbey Archives, reference NA1051.

Belton, John, ‘Revolutionary and Socialist Fraternalism 1848-1870: London to the Italian Risorgimento’, AQC, Vol.123, (2010), pp.231-253.

Byron, George Gordon, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, (London: Charles Griffin & Co., 1866).

Harrison, David, The Genesis of Freemasonry, (Hersham: Lewis Masonic, 2009).

Harrison, David, The Transformation of Freemasonry, (Bury St. Edmunds: Arima Publishing, 2010).

Harrison, David, ‘Thomas De Quincey: The Opium Eater and the Masonic Text’, AQC, Vol. 129, (2016), pp.276-281.

Jackson, H.J., ‘‘Swedenborg’s Meaning is the truth’ Coleridge, Tulk, and Swedenborg’, In Search of the Absolute: Essays on Swedenborg and Literature (Swedenborg Society, 2004).

Landsdown, R., ‘Byron and the Carbonari’, History Today, (May, 1991).

Marchand, Leslie, A., (ed.), Don Juan by Lord Byron, Canto XIII, Stanza XXIV, (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1958).

Marchand, Leslie, A., (ed.), Byron’s Letters and Journals, Vol. VIII, ‘Born for Opposition’, 1821, (Cambridge MA: Harvard University Press, 1978).

Polidori, John William, The Vampyre, (London: Sherwood, Neely and Jones, 1819).

Thorslev, Peter, L., The Byronic Her: Types and Prototypes, (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1962).

Whymper, H.J., ‘Lord Byron G.M.’, AQC, Vol.VI, (1893), pp.17-20.

Bibliography

Ackroyd, Peter, Blake, (London: QPD, 1995).

 Anon., The Trial of William Lord Byron For The Murder of William Chaworth Esq; Before The House of Peers in Westminster Hall, in Full Parliament.  London, 1765.  Newstead Abbey Archives, reference NA1051.

Belton, John, ‘Revolutionary and Socialist Fraternalism 1848-1870: London to the Italian Risorgimento’, AQC, Vol.123, (2010), pp.231-253.

Byron, George Gordon, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, (London: Charles Griffin & Co., 1866).

Harrison, David, The Genesis of Freemasonry, (Hersham: Lewis Masonic, 2009).

Harrison, David, The Transformation of Freemasonry, (Bury St. Edmunds: Arima Publishing, 2010).

Harrison, David, ‘Thomas De Quincey: The Opium Eater and the Masonic Text’, AQC, Vol. 129, (2016), pp.276-281.

Jackson, H.J., ‘‘Swedenborg’s Meaning is the truth’ Coleridge, Tulk, and Swedenborg’, In Search of the Absolute: Essays on Swedenborg and Literature (Swedenborg Society, 2004).

Landsdown, R., ‘Byron and the Carbonari’, History Today, (May, 1991).

Marchand, Leslie, A., (ed.), Don Juan by Lord Byron, Canto XIII, Stanza XXIV, (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1958).

Marchand, Leslie, A., (ed.), Byron’s Letters and Journals, Vol. VIII, ‘Born for Opposition’, 1821, (Cambridge MA: Harvard University Press, 1978).

Polidori, John William, The Vampyre, (London: Sherwood, Neely and Jones, 1819).

Thorslev, Peter, L., The Byronic Her: Types and Prototypes, (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1962).

Whymper, H.J., ‘Lord Byron G.M.’, AQC, Vol.VI, (1893), pp.17-20.

About the Author

Dr. David Harrison is a UK based Masonic historian who has so far written nine books on the history of English Freemasonry and has contributed many papers and articles on the subject to various journals and magazines, such as the AQC, Philalethes Journal, the UK based Freemasonry Today, MQ Magazine, The Square, the US based Knight Templar Magazine and the Masonic Journal. Harrison has also appeared on TV and radio discussing his work. Having gained his PhD from the University of Liverpool in 2008, which focused on the development of English Freemasonry, the thesis was subsequently published in March 2009 entitled The Genesis of Freemasonry by Lewis Masonic. The work became a best seller and is now on its third edition. Harrison’s other works include The Transformation of Freemasonry published by Arima Publishing in 2010, the Liverpool Masonic Rebellion and the Wigan Grand Lodge also published by Arima in 2012, A Quick Guide to Freemasonry which was published by Lewis Masonic in 2013, an examination of the York Grand Lodge published in 2014, Freemasonry and Fraternal Societies published in 2015, The City of York: A Masonic Guide published in 2016, and a biography on 19th century Liverpool philanthropist Christopher Rawdon which was published in the same year.

[metalandmagi]

Hogwarts House Anime Recommendations pt 2!  Ravenclaw!

I’m just going to use the same intro every time. A couple years ago, I made some posts with anime recommendations based on Hogwarts houses. And in case you haven’t noticed, there’s been a lot of new anime that’s come out in that time, and I’ve thought of some other things that I think people may have missed. And I was bored...So if you have ever wanted some anime recommendations with the same general themes and tones, maybe you’ll find something here.

Other house recommendations:

Hufflepuff pt 1

Hufflepuff pt 2

Ravenclaw pt 1

Gryffindor pt 1

Gryffindor pt 2

Slytherin pt 1

Slytherin pt 2

This time I’m focusing on RAVENCLAW, the house that values wisdom, creativity, learning, wit, and cleverness.

Princess Principal: A steampunk mystery/thriller that takes place in an alternate 20th century about a group of girls who masquerade as normal students during the day and kick ass as secret agents/spies for the Commonwealth at night. It’s a super fun spy show with cool female characters and a plot that will leave you constantly guessing how things will play out until the last possible second.

This show was so cool and everyone slept on it when it came out, but what could be more Ravenclaw than a bunch of spies using espionage to overthrow the government and solving mysteries? The main character Ange kind of toes the line between a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw, but I think she’s a Ravenclaw at heart. All the girls are clever and creative in their own ways, and it had one of the best OPs of 2017!

Kino’s Journey- the Beautiful World (Kino no Tabi): This is another anime that was rebooted in the last couple years, but everything I say applies to both the original 2003 anime and the more recent 2017 anime...except the 2017 one has much better animation, and the English dub won’t make your ears bleed. 

Kino’s Journey is about a girl who travels to different fictional countries on her sentient motorbike named Hermes. She only has one rule for each country she visits: she can’t stay longer than 3 days in each country before moving on. It’s a raw, character driven episodic story with one of the most surprisingly funny and interesting protagonists I’ve encountered. Each episode will leave you thinking about life and humanity in a different way, and it will definitely make you want to see the world.

This is a show that is hard to get people psyched up for because it can be so quiet and thought provoking, kind of like Natsume Yuujinchou. But I think it’s a great Ravenclaw show because Kino’s main drive in every town she visits is to learn. She may seem like a Slytherin at times, because she can be quite...callous and devious without seeming to care about what happens to people (like in the coliseum episode), but overall I think she just wants to take in information. Nothing Kino does is to get ahead of people or is done purely out of malice. She wants to learn about the world and what makes people different. She is calm, indifferent, and cool headed in every situation, not to mention she always has a clever plan and keeps her wits about her. As a side note, I should mention that the 2017 anime only remakes a few of the more notable episodes from the original show, and the rest of the episodes are new content; it’s not like the 2017 anime is a complete remake of the original, so keep that in mind. I recommend both. This is the kind of show that can keep going forever and still find new, interesting stories to tell. 

Death Parade: Okay, this one’s hard to summarize without spoiling the first episode, but it’s literally in the title. After death, a pair of humans will materialize in the mysterious purgatory of Quindecim (which basically looks like a fancy bar), and the two are forced to play a game to determine which person will be reincarnated and which will be pushed into oblivion. Each episode focuses on a new pair and a new game while delving deeper into the mysteries of Quindecim and how people are judged.  Fun fact: this is actually based on an OVA called Death Billiards, which not a lot of people have seen, but it’s the same judge character dealing with a pair of humans. 

This anime was so mysterious and interesting right from the get go. It’s first episode is so hookable it should stand alongside Dr. Stone, Gravity Falls, and Yuuri on Ice for shows you know will suck you in immediately. This is a hard core Ravenclaw anime, because much like Kino’s Journey, we deal with an indifferent main character whose only purpose is to judge others and who is constantly learning about humans. Every episode will make you strategize to try and stay ahead of the game, as if you were the one being judged. Not to mention the mystery of how the hell this Quindecim place actually works and what mysteries are really behind the arbiters of purgatory will keep you intrigued all the way through.

The Promised Neverland: I know I’ve talked about this one a lot, but this is one of the most Ravenclaw animes to ever Ravenclaw so I have to mention it again.This is a thriller anime that follows the children of the Grace Field House orphanage, where everyone is a happy family and there are definitely no terrible secrets about what happens to the children who leave the house...right? Really it’s about a trio of children named Emma, Norman, and Ray who are forced to break out of the orphanage and outsmart one of the most interesting anime villains of the last 3 years.

Like I said, this is one of the most Ravenclaw animes to ever Ravenclaw, and by that I mean all of these children are geniuses. The main character Emma might be the definition of a Gryffindor, but this show is the epitome of all things Ravenclaw at heart. The tactical brilliance and creative solutions to the adults’ mind games in these first 12 episodes are enough to get anyone interested, but this is only the beginning. Going by the manga, this dystopian future is mysterious enough to rival the early episodes of Attack on Titan, and the subtle clues about the outside world will have you making a conspiracy theory chart in no time (or just rushing off to read the manga like I did). Personally, The Promised Neverland is my pick for anime of the year- as of right now anyway- because I just love the execution of this brilliant battle of wits! 

Dr. Stone: When all of humanity is mysteriously turned to stone, a genius high school boy named Senku and his…less genius friend Taiju awaken 3,700 years in the future and are tasked with rebuilding civilization and unpetrifying humanity with the power of science! There’s also the underlying mystery of why humanity was turned to stone in the first place. It has great character dynamics, and it’s so educational that there’s literally a warning in every episode that tells you not to do the science experiments because some of this stuff is illegal. 

This show hasn’t even finished airing yet, and I can still say it’s a perfect Ravenclaw anime because the whole freaking thing is about learning and science! Despite Taiju not being a scientific mastermind, he’s still clever in his own way...sometimes...and Senku is the epitome of a smartass who was definitely too school for cool. And remember how I said this has one of the most perfect first episodes in history? Yeah, it really does because I was kind of down on this show before I even started watching it, and after the first episode it skyrocketed to being the best new anime of the summer. And I’m sure it will be a lot of people’s anime of the year.

I also want to include a bonus anime: Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu 

This is a historical drama anime about the Japanese theater art of Rakugo, where a person literally sits on a cushion and tells a comedic or dramatic story to an audience...there’s a lot more to the plot, and it’s cooler than it sounds I promise. The first season takes place during World War II and the second season is set in modern day Japan with the main character as an old man. I put this as a bonus anime because I can’t quite put my finger on what makes it a Ravenclaw anime, I just know that it is one. It’s in the atmosphere! It just has a general vibe of intellect and creativity that’s impossible to miss. If you like historical dramas with really interesting characters that focus on art forms you’ve never heard of, this is the show for you.

[versuswhitescar]

Malam Manor

We all grow up with that once upon a time, crap. When you're little, you believe it. Who believes it as an adult? I mean, really? We have smartphones, rumbas, and clap on lights. No one meets a 17-year-old vampire who supposed to be 52. But I have, and I found his tapes by accident. Now I'm living a filliping ounce upon a time that Anne Rice would drool over. If I don't find the f-ing cave his sister is trapped in, I'm going to be enjoying a lot less sunlight for damn sure.

I know if I could figure out the details, I'll find the cave. And the murderer and maybe be spared, or I fail, and I'm the next Elena Gilbert. I sure hope not.

I'm just a damn tutor who needs money for her master's degree. Why did I even think that posting a flyer online was a good idea? Hell, my only tinder date turned out to be a 300 lb guy catfishing for a date to his sister's wedding. I stupidly, no innocently thought I'd get some pimply high school sophomore struggling through R and J and Shakespeare word salad.

Man, was I wrong? Mr. Cain Haywater answered my ad. Normal name for an average guy, right? Well, who the hell names their kid after the first murder in the Bible, but I'm getting off track. My ancient 98 jeep with more rust than metal is not going up the hill to the "Malam Manor." Later I Google it and turns out the word is Latin for bad. I should have asked Siri sooner. Too late, Cain Haywater a ward of the state. Because he's 17 and wicked rich is paying me 50 bucks an hour to help write his family's history.

This house is unusual in ways I can't even begin to describe. Its windows seem to follow you like eyes while I rev up the circle drive. The brick looks like it's from out of the Hogwarts rejection pile. The height makes it at least three floors, and there's a damn covered entry that carriages pulled under in the 19th century. Besides the semi-creepy outsides, even though it looks well maintained, I'm coming here close to 9 pm. Ounce, the sun is down on the hottest July night in history. I should have done a business major instead of English lit. Follow your bliss, my mom said. What does she know she's a nail tech for the last 12 years. She probably has brain damage from the polish fumes.

I can't imagine anyone hears my lame knock at the gigantic door. But I swear to God it seems like a cat or something opened the door. I thought maybe the heat melted my brain, but it looked like a fuzzy ken doll. It darted behind a curtain. Before I could investigate Cain, hold my breath beautiful, Haywater stands ten feet in front of me in his large foyer in black jeans, skin-tight grey shirt with a badass blue tattoo that seems to have a deep center that radiates over his forearm. I'm shook in so many ways I can barely speak "Nyx, Nyx Jackson?" My name never sounded so smooth coming out of any humans mouth ever. That was when my brain should have clicked over to reality that he wasn't human. He hadn't been human since 1989.

Sadly only 2 hours into my best tutoring gig ever, I discovered Cain Haywater was indeed a real vampire. And his beloved twin sister Danielle, Dani, as he referred to her, was just as dead only traped in a watery caved transformed into a rusalka for the last 34 years. I was Cains's last chance at finding her cave and the wort boyfriend a girl could ask for. Jefferson Granton. A 200-year-old vampire that he needed to kill. My life wasn't fair and only made worse by the fact that I'm sure I'm going to fail, and my last meal was crappy ramen.

It was my stomach and too much curiosity that made me start playing with the vintage tape recorder Cain had on the black walnut desk. He heard my growling belly and while he searched for food. I pressed play. Big mistake, I'm not sure where he went to kill the food, but I listened to almost one side of a cassette tape. The quick spark notes, once he came back with cheese, apples, and fancy crackers to catch me, went fast.  

Back in May of 1986, he and his twin sister were graduating from Xaiver highschool. Somehow she latched on to an older college guy that wandered into town on a semester off to find himself. Jefferson Granton was mesmerizing, according to Cain, tall blond lovely to look at and even more interesting to listen to. He swept naive Danni off her feet on a cross country trip. He had a long term plan. One he had been cooking up for at least 100 years when Cain's family made a fortune in lumber and now stocks.

Jeffy boy started life as Jacarde Gulomar in the Brittany region of France. He accepted the gift of eternal life from a Norse vampire who wanted a mate. Jeff never entirely made his fortune and became a bad luck symbol for the covens all over Europe. Eyes on the new country to the west, he hopped a ship and arrived to wonder the grandness of the US just after the civil war. Comming upon early decedents of the Haywater clan. William Percy Haywater knew the deal equipped each member of the family with a hawthorn stake, holy water, and a warning against a freshly minted newly named Jefferson Granton.

No one fell for him until Danni, with all her beauty and openness, fell in love, and became a target for her trust fund. By the time the twins were 17, their parents were dead at the fate of a drunk driver, and a deaf Aunt looks after them. Danni fell under Jefferson's spell forgetting all caution to follow to the whispering cave. Now oddly in the middle of the mind-melting story, a flash caught my eye, and I met the grandfather like ken doll Cain shared his mansion with.

Pere was a domavoy who kept Cain and Malan safe as much as he could. Cain respects and adored him, so I was polite. Over the next three weeks, I moved in search their land every day when Cain joins me and feasts on Pere's cooking skills. His little face sparkled at each new dish he made for me after decades of blood bags. On steamy Saturday, July 31st, I finally found, or more fell into the mouth of the cave. Much of Cain's memory was erased on the night he watched Jefferson murder Danni while he hogtied in the corner of the damp cave. Only to meet a fate worse than Danni by forcefully being turned and compelled to kill and drain his Aunt of all her blood. Jefferson helps smooth it all over with some compulsion and tricks, but Cain secured his wealth in the next few days only to vanish. He picked a small fishing village in Maine, where he met Gabriel 100-year-old vampire who taught him to live and gave him advice on how to avenge Danni. Gabriel's plan centered on Cain coming home as his namesake's son Cain Haywater II. The mansion and his tie to Danni or Cain's greatest strength. It was clear why Jefferson failed to control them.

The night I stumbled into the cave, I wore my Danni look-alike costume Pere helped me pull together. I looked like a backup dancer on a Wham video. It was. It was to trick Jefferson, but oddly I caught the attention of another creepy creature a leshii in the woods. I thought it was Cain because the voice fit, and I felt drawn to the being. Only when it had led me halfway across the land did I catch a glimpse of its eyes. Pure white scalaris was not a hint of iris or pupil. Taking off back towards the cave, I felt two forces moving me one I can now sense with Cain, and the other I was damn sure was Jefferson. He'd been down a rough road probably because, in life, he was a bit of a narcissist. Only to have that enhanced by his Vampire Life, he thought I was Danni, and he'd Follow Me to Hell to get that money. Once we made it to the rippling silver pond within the cave, I laid eyes on Daniella. My wham costume was a joke compared to her beauty.

She swept as close to us as possible, shouting silently in my brain to turn now. Cain stands between me and Jefferson stake in hand slowly I fell to the wash of a cool breeze flowing over us which I knew mixed with my warm body temp to engulf Cain it was in that moment I saw the vague outline of a man just like he left a speakeasy in 1926. He became more gas-like to almost solid, yet I could still see right through him. He is handsome except for that visible gunshot wound to his right Temple. Why was I surprised that we now have a ghost to add to the mix. Pere spoke of the cave as whispered he claimed someone took their life after the 1920 stock crash here he was with eyes for Danni.

The extraordinary power Cain had wasn't just his home or his connection to his twin. It was that he could feel loved. He survived and lived by keeping his Humanity. I saw beautiful sparkling Jefferson with his flowing blonde hair realize it too. Cains power made the cave hum Jefferson was cocky, and that was very clear. He charged expecting to deflect the steak easily, but with Danni's strength and God help me my feelings for Cain. He drove the stake straight and true into Jefferson's lean chest.

Before I can blink Cain without a blade from his boot and with incredible strength severed the head like clockwork Cain without a new Zippo lighter and flicked it on to Jeffy. Making a roaring vampire candle. Can quickly turn to glance behind making a connection with Danni. "find your bliss" I heard in my head, and I knew Cain heard it too. The 1920s gentleman back into Danni as they drifted further back into the cave. We're only water held the floor we stood still.   "Nyx?" his velvet voice floated over me. I can only gape open mouth, watery eyes, and some snot beginning to flow. At that moment, my stomach rumbled loudly. He smiled a genuinely genuine smile with all the years that he waited. I knew without any doubt Cain Haywater would be in my future Tech probably my whole life, and I smiled too.

Let me know what you think and If you want more 

[buddaimond]

Excerpts regarding “High Life”, highlighted parts about Rob, meeting with André Benjamin (another cast of High Life), opps a little spoiler of High Life, BTS of shooting High Life in Cologne, quotes from the producer Andrew Lauren, words from Olivier Assayas about Claire Denis, and words from Des Hamilton :

“High Life,” which cost millions more to make than any of Denis’s previous films, seems, on its surface, dramatically divergent from the rest of her body of work, yet versions of its premise swirled inside Denis’s mind for more than a decade. For years, she had wanted to tell the story of the last person in the world. In the film, the galactic convicts perish one by one. Only a single felon survives, along with his daughter, who was born on the spaceship. (Olafur Eliasson, the Danish-Icelandic conceptual artist who a decade ago erected waterfalls in the East River, designed the spaceship for the movie.) Their relationship—literally forged in a vacuum, with a whiff of the taboo—was her primary interest in the story. “It’s feminine and masculine,” Denis said. “It’s family blood but it’s not the same sex.”

The script, which Denis wrote with her longtime screenwriter, Jean-Pol Fargeau, took years to complete. (Zadie Smith and Nick Laird worked on a draft that Denis ultimately rejected.) Though Denis treats scripts as provisional and merely suggestive documents, hers are full of vivid sensory detail. When “High Life” ’s main character, played by Robert Pattinson, is introduced, he is “pressed against the exterior of the spaceship, like a mountain climber against a sheer cliff face.” Later, when he changes out of his spacesuit, he does so “like a knight removing armor.”

Denis saw Pattinson in “Twilight,” she said, and was struck by his “heartrending charisma.” She had wanted someone older for “High Life”—she thought at one point of Philip Seymour Hoffman—but after meeting with Pattinson in Los Angeles and Paris she realized that “he was already in the film.” She went on, “When he said to me, ‘Are you sure?’ I said, ‘It’s already too late. It’s you or nobody else.’ ” She chose “High Life” ’s other stars, including Juliette Binoche and the English model and actress Mia Goth, with similarly instinctual possessiveness. In the summer of 2015, Denis and her producer, Oliver Dungey, flew to Atlanta to meet André Benjamin, the rapper, actor, producer, adroit hat-wearer, and all-around cultural icon, better known by his stage name, André 3000, and for his flamboyant role in the Atlanta hip-hop duo OutKast. Denis had enjoyed Benjamin’s lead performance in “All Is by My Side,” a 2014 biopic of Jimi Hendrix, and she had got it in her mind that he should play a part in “High Life.”

The three had agreed to meet at the St. Regis Hotel’s restaurant for lunch. “Here we are,” Dungey recalled, “me—this sort of posh, square English guy—and Claire—this scorny French lady—and in walks André.” Benjamin said, “I’ll be honest with you. I don’t know who you are or what you want, but everyone is telling me I have to meet with you and I’ve got to do this film.”

“They immediately hit it off,” Dungey said. “I’m just sitting there, picking at grits. The purpose of the trip was accomplished within thirty seconds.”

The only other people in the restaurant were two Gambian ladies visiting from, of all places, the Cotswolds. “Why were they there?” Dungey said. “I don’t know. But, then again, why were we there?

“Claire and André were talking about eating snake,” he continued. He shrugged in a manner that suggested his exclusion from the conversation had been so profound as to be painless. “Claire was saying how it gives you this vitality, this life force. And one of these women from Gambia turns around and says, ‘She’s right!’ ”

Moments later, a statuesque woman arrived. “She waltzes in and apparently knows André,” Dungey said. “She hugs him, asks how he’s been, blah, blah, blah. This woman looks fantastic: she has ribbons in her hair, lots of beads, she’s colorfully dressed. André introduces her to us as Dana.” Here Dungey paused, smiled, and shook his head. “This is not Dana. This is Queen Latifah.

“Claire is obviously taken with this woman while having no idea who she is. She just kept telling her she looked like a queen,” he continued. (Denis insists that she was well aware of Dana’s identity.) “The ladies from Gambia know who she is, though, and they also know who André is, and they ask for a photo. Queen Latifah ended up paying for all our lunches without saying anything.”

Dungey added, “It was really one of the most charming and weird moments of my entire life.”

........

Similarly, in “High Life,” some of the convicts are black, but they are not a message-telegraphing majority. When the film’s American producers read the script, they urged Denis to change the fact that the first character to die was a black man. In the U.S. today, they told her, this was just not done. For Americans, Denis said, the problem of racism “is buried so deep. For me, it was not deep.” She refused to change the plot, writing in more dialogue instead. In the final version, André Benjamin’s character says, “See? Even in outer space, the black ones are the first to die.”

.......

With “High Life,” Denis will inevitably receive more international attention than she ever has, but for years many filmmakers have spoken of her as a sort of secret saint

........

“It’s such a macho, minimalist film,” said Andrew Lauren, one of the producers of “High Life” and its financier, who saw “Beau Travail” years ago, on the recommendation of his father, the designer Ralph Lauren. “When this new project came to us, and I went back through Denis’s filmography, I was, like, ‘Wait, she did “Beau Travail”?’ I would have sworn that a man made it. She’s like the precursor to Kathryn Bigelow.”

........

Unlike Denis’s past movies, which were shot on location, mostly in France and Africa, “High Life” was largely filmed at a studio in Cologne, during two months last fall. The cast and Denis stayed at a hotel thirty minutes away. The drive, made each morning and night—often with a P.A. behind the wheel who was described to me as “the worst driver in the history of mankind”—took them past oil refineries, sausage factories, and tractor-trailer bordellos that were parked, with German efficiency, along the highway exits.

By all reports, it was a trying experience. Denis was unused to filming in a studio. She made scene changes constantly and with little warning, sometimes by text message. Benjamin described an atmosphere of inadvertent method acting. “These convicts are all supposed to be from different places—they don’t know one another at first, and they’re just trying to make it,” he said. “And, on set, it was the same! I’m this guy from Atlanta, Claire’s French, obviously, most of the guys on set are German, the actors didn’t know each other. It was a trip.” Robert Pattinson, who, several people said, spent much of his time on set asking existential questions—Wait, who am I in this movie? What are we making here?—told me, “It’s a very abstract way of working. It feels like experimental theatre, frankly.”

Lauren said, “A lot of people were thinking, This is good for my résumé, but I wish I weren’t here.” He continued, “I think, if you make a movie with Claire, you can make any movie.” He compared the process to over-preparing for the SATs, or training at high altitudes, so that your performance at sea level feels easier on game day. At an early color-test screening, held at an ornate theatre in Cologne, Denis’s voice was the only one in the room, saying, “Merde! Crap! What are we doing? Why am I here?” Lauren said he thought “everyone sort of took it personally.”

At the end of each day, the cast and crew convened at the hotel bar. “Everyone would sort of be sitting at different parts of the bar, and she’d walk in and it was, like, Shit! Claire’s here!” Lauren recalled. “I saw a lot of people wanting to leave many, many times, but they stayed. They stay because they love her—even though they can’t stand her.”

Denis does not deny such behavior. “I can be the worst person, the meanest person on a set,” she said. “Shouting, screaming, complaining. I don’t have a lot of respect for myself as a director. People accept me the way I am, because they know I’m not faking. Probably.”

When I described these accounts to the filmmaker Olivier Assayas, a close friend of Denis’s, he laughed. “There’s a certain form of chaos in the way she works,” he said. “When you make movies, it’s always disturbing how confident everyone involved is that they know how things should be done. And you have to constantly remind them, No, you don’t know how it’s done, I don’t know how it’s done, nobody knows how it’s done. You create chaos as a way of destabilizing the surroundings that could bring you to make something that would otherwise be conventional.”

.....

Hamilton (casting director)recalled witnessing the initial meeting between Denis and Pattinson, in Los Angeles, and feeling like “these are two people on a date, and I really shouldn’t be here, maybe I should actually remove myself?” With obvious pride, Denis recounted how Pattinson took the train from London to visit her in Paris. “He came to me like a friend,” she told me. “You know, in London, Robert has to hide because of girls?” (A representative for Pattinson said, “He doesn’t hide from anyone.”)

Full Article

[acehotel]

INTERVIEW: Justin Strauss with Lenny Kaye

Lenny Kaye is a gentle force. One of the most influential people in rock history, he's helped usher punk in as guitarist of Patti Smith Group. He’s been called a punk pioneer and The Godfather of Garage Rock. He’s our heroes’ hero, and he’s an eloquent and brilliant wordsmith, humble and with an intuitive wisdom that manifests in conversation that reads like poetry. Here, Ace friend and DJ legend Justin Strauss sits down with Lenny Kaye to wax poetic on his current projects, the necessity of a future sound and the mystery of the Magic Mushrooms. Follow closely. 

Justin Strauss: Lenny Kaye, where did you grow up?

Lenny Kaye: I grew up in New York City. I'm a native-born New Yorker. I was born up by the George Washington Bridge and when I was a year old my folks moved to Jamaica, Queens. When I was eight or nine, we moved to Brooklyn, Flatbush, and then out to New Jersey. Then back to New York as soon as I could.

Justin: When did you realize that music would be something you'd be doing, something you'd want to do for your the rest of your life?

Lenny Kaye: I still don't realize it. It's a miracle and a blessing every day — I wake up and realize that my job is to think about music, play music, find a record in my collection and participate in the wonderful world of music. I didn't really decide. It’s the thing that happens as you get drawn closer to something. I always loved to collect records as a teenager and I had, what would later be known as a garageband, in the 60s. And I just kept being lucky.

Justin: Was there an artist or a record that you heard that made you say, "Oh, wow"?

And I haven’t really looked back since.

Justin: I remember watching The Beatles when I was seven...and that was it. I just knew it.

Lenny Kaye: It was a great role model. In New York, there weren't a lot of bands because it was mostly singing groups. You couldn’t just look and see rockabilly on the corner. It was more like harmony groups. But to see a band playing, especially a band like The Beatles which was really a band of equals — it was really one for all and all for one — it was inspirational and about nine months later (I guess the actual gestation period of a baby) I had my first gig with The Vandals.

Justin: Did that band ever record?

Lenny Kaye: No, no. It was purely a party band. Four sets a night, played for a fraternity. Everything from “What’d I Say” with all the risque lyrics like, "see that girl from Trenton State, that's where they teach you to masturbate. What'd I say?" And covering some of the English Invasion and Four Tops. I don't like to think of it, but when I went to college I actually learned my future.

Justin: You went to Rutgers?

Lenny Kaye: Yeah, Rutgers. I was an American History major so I learned cultural history and that's always helped me in my writing. And I was playing in bands. Those are the two poles in which I function these days.

Justin: Did New York City play a role in your rock n roll foundations?

Lenny Kaye: Yes, it was the capital of the universe, especially at that moment in time. There also was a real explosion of band interest then. At the beginning of the 70s there was no local rock bands at all. It's impossible to imagine this, but really it's true. And until the New York Dolls poster went up on the wall at Village Oldies record store where I was working, there was no local band scene at all. And slowly, slowly it grew. Then out of the New York Dolls and the associated groups like The Harlots of 42nd Street and Street Punk, it took root at CBGB, which became an actual breeding ground for New York rock, and a great moment in time.

Justin: Were you going to clubs and seeing bands in the late 60s before the New York Dolls?

Lenny Kaye: I did.

Justin: The Young Rascals ?

Lenny Kaye: I did see the Rascals at The Telephone Booth on the East Side. They were one of the greatest bands I’d ever seen. I actually placed bass behind a folk singer named John Braden during the summer of 69. We were the house folk singers at Ungano’s, we opened for Junior Wells and the Amboy Dukes. One week the MC5...that's kind of amazing to think of. But it wasn't really. I liked to go see them and, at that time, I just about started writing about rock n roll which gave me another entrance into seeing bands and getting involved in the inner workings of music.

Justin: Did you go to the Electric Circus club on St. Marks Place?

Lenny Kaye: I did. I saw Tim Buckley open The Mothers of Invention at the Electric Circus. I remember that one. I mean, a lot of it I was still driving in from New Jersey, so it wasn't as available as it might have been a year later. And then when I moved to New York, the Fillmore had opened and you could go down there every week and see the most amazing triple bills ever.

Justin: What did you start writing about when you started writing about rock n roll? Where were you writing about it at school?

Lenny Kaye: I did a little bit for the school paper at Rutgers, just trying it out, pretending I was writing for Crawdaddy. But when I got here, my main gig before I knew anybody was at Jazz & Pop — a friend of mine was the boyfriend of the editor there, Patricia Kennealy (later to marry Jim Morrison in a Wicca ceremony. So now she's Patricia Morrison). But yeah, I did my first record reviews there. I think my very first review was a review of The Small Faces’ Ogden's Nut Gone Flake, a great record still.

I'd get free records and maybe $25 and kind of started to see that this would be great. I wrote a review of The Stooges’ first album for Boston's Fusion Magazine and Danny Fields (who signed the Stooges to Elektra Records) called me up out of the blue and he said, "Who are you? Why don't you come to a press party," and literally discovered me — like he has so many others. I went to the press party and I met the circle of rock writers that were in New York at the time.

Justin: Who were the big rock writers of the time in New York?

Lenny Kaye: I would say Richard Meltzer. Lester Bangs was more west coast. It was mostly Richard Meltzer. I was kind of in the wake of Richard, Sandy Pearlman, John Landau and Paul Williams, all the Crawdaddy writers. I was a little bit in the second generation, even though it seems like splitting hairs now.

Justin: I might have seen those reviews as a kid. I don't think you can stress how important magazines were to someone who was interested in music because this was the time of no internet, nothing. And that was the lifeline.

Lenny Kaye: That's how you found out about stuff.

Justin: That and reading liner notes on albums was how I learned everything I know, basically, about music.

Lenny Kaye: You had to dig for it, which is good. By digging for it I remember, especially being a record collector, you had no information on who was in bands. When I put together the first Nuggets album I really had to do a lot of research into who's who. I just couldn't click on something and find out the personnel and where they're from. And I still don't know who The Magic Mushrooms are.

Justin: That was when I first became aware of you, when I got a copy of Nuggets album. And then I got a record by The Sidewinders that you produced. I was obviously a record freak, too.

Lenny Kaye: Power Pop, yeah. It’s all making sense now.

Justin: The Nuggets record didn't leave my turntable when I was a teenager for years and just turned me onto so much music. I guess it opened up a Pandora's box of music.

Lenny Kaye: A Pandora's record 45s box.

Justin: The Nuggets things just went on and on. Many compilations came after.

Lenny Kaye: That's pretty much why I get all the credit for it. But I didn't discover that music, and for me, I think one of the things that made Nuggets so popular is that it's not just about garage rock. It's about great records that are garage rock. Any of those records are just superb pieces of three minute great songs, or six minute, or whatever they were. They were very communicable. It wasn't like you hear something and you have to work to get into it. These were songs, some of them were actually semi-hits. But I never really thought Nuggets would come out.

Justin: What was the story behind it?

Lenny Kaye: I was hired by Elektra Records. Jac Holzman, the president, liked rock critics because he had an intelligent label and he liked when people wrote intelligently about them. He came upon me and he asked if I wanted to be an independent talent scout for Elektra. And I said, "Oh, sure." But I never really found any bands that they appreciated. I know I tried to get them to keep The Stooges on the label for their third album, which didn't happen. But one of the ideas he had was an album called Nuggets which would get the songs off of albums that had one good song. My theory about it is this: he got one of the first cassette players and wanted to clean out his record collection.

But he gave it to me, and in my willfulness and hubris, I got together all my favorite records and presented him with a list and kept asking for the moon. “A double album, let's do a double album” and “You know, I don't like that cover. Let's get this cover.” And the best thing about Jac — he had that mark of being a great record company president — once he trusted you, he’d want to see where you would go with your instincts. He wasn't trying to say, "Well, you know, we need more hits or we need less hits." He just went with it, which actually in retrospect seems unbelievable.

Justin: In this day and age.

Lenny Kaye: I can't believe I got away with it. And I only lasted at Elektra for about three months and I'd given him this list over that time. About six months after I left the company they called me up and they said, "We have all the rights to X number of songs. What are we doing with them?" And I thought, "Wow. This project is still going on. I can't believe it." So it got completed and now it's 45 years later and it's still buying me beers. I'll go to some weird city in the middle of Europe and there'll be a Nuggets fan there who’ll say, "You changed my life," and I say, "No. Nuggets changed my life, really."

Lenny and Patti Smith at CBGB

Justin: Did they get all the songs you wanted?

Lenny Kaye: Oh, no. Some of them have shown up on later projects. Like when Rhino did the box set, they had the list of what I wanted for the second volume...had there been a second volume. But I always wanted “96 Tears” by Question Mark and the Mysterians on it. I thought that should be there. I wanted “I See the Light” by The Five Americans. I couldn't get the rights to that. I couldn't get the rights to “Talk Talk” by The Music Machine, even though I still think it's on there for some reason, on my original one. A lot of weird records. And of course as soon as I did it, people started flooding me with their suggestions. And their suggestions, Blackout of Gretely by the Gonn, I mean that’s an insane, crazy record. Question of Temperature by The Balloon Farm. The Sonics from Washington, great, great records. I knew that was going to happen because as soon as you open a genre, people start digging.

I noticed this with the new series of albums that have just started coming out called Brown Acid. Songs from the American Come Down which gathers early 70s proto prog metal, these weird little singles by groups in the midwest. They all sound somewhat like Grand Funk, somewhat like Deep Purple and somewhat like Black Sabbath, but they were all crazy. And I realized this is a genre I never conceived of. It's what Detroit would have gone to if the MC5 could have stayed together. There's something really elemental about it, and now there's five volumes of it.

Justin: I think the internet has changed the whole way of people finding records.

Lenny Kaye: But a lot of them you can't find and that's what makes people go out and dig. I'm sure you're on Instagram. There's so many crazy vinyl people showing off albums, showing off their equipment, getting out there and digging and keeping everybody in communication.

Justin: I mean, it's a great thing. As great as it was to be digging in a dirty record store and finding that record that no one ever heard of. Nowadays you just type it in and you can pretty much find a lot of stuff.

Lenny Kaye: And you can drunk bid on it on eBay. “Oh, I don't know, what's another few dollars?” And then you wake up the next morning —

Justin: “What did I do?!”

Lenny Kaye: “Oh, my God!”

Justin: How did you go from writing to being in the studio with the Sidewinders and start producing things?

Lenny Kaye: Well, I think when you write about stuff it's kind of like Jean Luc Godard or Francois Truffaut. You want to start trying your hand at it, especially if you have a hand to try it. I always thought about being a producer. You need the opportunities, of course, and my friend Richard Robinson was working at RCA at the time and we found the Sidewinders and gave it a shot. It seems like a natural progression from writing and analyzing and looking at bands from the inside out to seeing what makes them tick and trying to help them make their record by being essentially their best friend in the studio. Sometimes the better you are as a producer, the less people know you're there, which is a tricky balance wheel. But I kind of like it. I always think producing is where the right and left halves of my brain come together. I have the analytical writerly side and then I have the musicianly side, which is pretty much all intuition. I don't read music, I hear it deep in my head and try to feel it. And I think producing is probably the combination of those two worlds.

Justin: I mean, there's producers like Phil Spector.

Lenny Kaye: Who is their artist.

Justin: Right.

Lenny Kaye: I mean, they're the artist and the group is there to serve them. As a producer, I was very lucky that I wasn't the artist. I worked with really quirky, strange, idiosyncratic artists, Suzanne Vega, Soul Asylum, Allen Ginsberg, Pussy Riot. I got to work with people where you're just trying to make sure they can make the best record they can. And whatever their next record will be, you find the groundwork within this record to give them a lot of expansive power, enhance the vibe, let the creativity flow.

Justin: More of the George Martin approach, or Rick Rubin.

Lenny Kaye: Absolutely.

Lenny Kaye: Try to find the right settings and give advice. I always think that if I make a suggestion and we're in the same ballpark, and you don't like it, well you're telling me who you want to be. If you don't like anything I say, I'm going to let you do it yourself, or find someone who's more empathetic.

Justin: When you were doing the first one, did you know your way around the studio?

Lenny Kaye: With the Sidewinders?

Justin: Yeah.

Lenny Kaye: No. I still wish I would have turned the dial on the reverb a little bit more. I was pretty conservative.

Justin: You were working with an engineer, I assume.

Lenny Kaye: Working with an engineer who says, the first time I walk in, "What kind of mic do you want me to put on the bass drum?" I still don't know, to be honest. But that's why I like engineers.

I think when you listen to a record you each have your role. When an engineer listens to a record, he looks at the frequency responses. I don't do that. I listen to the feel, parts and performance, that's my thing. I once went to Greg Calbi, the great mastering engineer at Sterling, with two mixes of a song that I had  been going back and forth on. One of the snares was a little louder, I just didn't know which one. So I said, "Greg, what do you think?" And he says, "You know, I don't listen to records like that. I can tell you whether it needs a rounder bottom, but I can't tell you which is the more effective mix as a listening experience." He said, "That's your job." And I thought, "Hmm."

Justin: I've produced stuff too, and people ask me to describe what a record producer does. In some instances I liken it to a director of a movie who sees the big picture and works with  other people who are great at their jobs. I mean, some people do it all themselves. Some work with a great team of engineers, editors, programmers or whatever. But the vision at the end of the day is between the artist and the producer.

Lenny Kaye: I think it's like being a mirror. The artist looks at you, at your sense of aesthetic taste, and they want to know if their hair is in the right place. “How do I look? Does that hat make me look better or not? How about if we try this?” It’s the old, "What do you think?"

Sometimes people want you to tell them exactly what you think, if you can be honest. And sometimes a producer has to be a cheerleader. “You're great! Aaaand I think this next take could be a hair greater.”

Justin: It's part psychiatrist.

Lenny Kaye: Oh, yeah.

Justin: There's a lot of psychology involved.

Lenny Kaye: It's a psychodrama in there. Especially younger artists or artists that are making their first or second records. There's a lot of paranoia. I've had so many discussions, "Let's over-dub this part or let's double this." "Well, I don't know if that's taking away from the artistic integrity." But my feeling is that a record is an illusion. It's not live. Groups always come to me and say, "We want to record live and take the best track," and I say, "Well, you can do that and you can sit there and choose the best track. I'm not exactly sure what I would do." Because record making is not like playing something in a club to a number of people who are freaking out in front of you and you're on 10, you got the atmosphere, you got the inebriations. That's not a record you're probably listening to at home far removed from a live show. So you have to create the illusion of live performance.

Justin: I remember when my band Milk 'N' Cookies got signed to Island Records and we were put in the studio with Muff Winwood to produce it, and we were playing him all these records we loved, all the glam records, which had a very specific sound. He kind of took a different approach. As much as we would push him, he kept it more organic and more straightforward. And at the end of the day — although at the time we were very upset about it — he was right, because it's lasted. It wasn't a gimmicky sound or something that was a fad.

Lenny Kaye: Exactly.

Justin: It was something that people, kids today still relate to. I think it was a testament to his no-nonsense approach.

Lenny Kaye: You guys are one of the founders of power pop.

Justin: Sometimes you need to listen to people.

Lenny Kaye: And sometimes you don't need to listen to people.

Justin: We did push him in, "Listen to these drums," or whatever. There were little battles.

Lenny Kaye: Sometimes even in conflict, when people have different ideas, like John Cale...we thought when he came in to do Horses he’d be all about the art and the spontaneity. And no, he was into his Beach Boys period. He wanted to layer this and layer that, and we wanted to go out there and look for improvised, live moments. And betwixt and between, that record got battered out. You're all in the same band. A producer joins the band for that album and he can be the frustrating bass player or he can be the genius orchestrator. Everything is different now.

Justin: Are you still producing?

Lenny Kaye: Very little. Actually I did a beautiful record this year that took me quite a long time to do with Jessi Colter, Waylon Jennings’ wife. It's called The Psalms, and it is what it is. When I was working on Waylon's book, I came into the living room one day and there's Jessi — who is a very spiritual person — with the bible open in front of her, singing away. Just putting her hands on chords, letting the melodies flow where they go. And I just thought, "Man, this is about as beautiful and illuminating experience as I've ever had." And so one day after Waylon's passing I was speaking to her and I said, "You know, Jess, there's a record I would like to hear, which is you singing the Psalms like I did in your living room." She came to New York, just about 10 years ago, and I got a studio with a nice piano and met her up there. We had no rehearsal, no discussion. We chose a psalm, set the bible on the piano, and she would sing it. One take, two takes, sometimes I went out there and we played together. It was very spontaneous. And at the end of the two afternoons, I had seven in the can.

Justin: Wow.

Lenny Kaye: She came a year later and we did another five just like that, no rehearsal or anything, and I had the other five, including the hit psalm, the 23rd. And over the years I tried to differentiate them a little bit texturally. I got Al Kooper to play on a few tracks, Bulgarian singers on another one, Jenni Muldaur, and Bobby Previte drums on a few. I tried to retain the intimacy, but make them a little… In one track she's just warming up, singing, and she plays four minutes of this beautiful thing. I was able to get a double bass on there and a harp. It's just a beautiful, beautiful record and SONY Legacy put it out this past March.

Justin: Congrats.

Lenny Kaye: I got to say, it's one of the most beautiful records I've ever been part of.

Justin: Now I need to listen.

Lenny Kaye: Oh, you really got to, especially during the holidays. Her voice is beautiful. Her interpretations on these sacred poems are so great. I tried to keep it non-denominational, to kind of take away the church part and move it toward the light. And yeah, it’s just a gorgeous record.

So I guess I still produce.

Justin: Good. You mentioned the New York Dolls. For Milk 'N' Cookies, that was the band that made it seem like, "Hey, we can do this."

Lenny Kaye: Totally.

Justin: It always seemed like The Beatles or Rolling Stones was too far away. It didn't seem like it could be possible. When I stumbled upon the New York Dolls my life changed.

Lenny Kaye: Oh my god. That must have been a great moment.

Justin: It was quite something. You were involved with this magazine called Rock Scene. It was like the bible of that whole scene.

Lenny Kaye: I wouldn't call it the bible. I would call it the high school yearbook.

Justin: High school yearbook or bible, it was informing everyone about all the New York bands. We were lucky we lived in New York, but for some kid out in OshKosh or wherever, it was a way for him to find out about things he could never have dreamed.

Lenny Kaye: To see what life was like backstage at CBGB. Now when you look at an issue it's got to seem really weird and historical. I wish we had a Rock Scene for when the bebop scene happened over at 52nd Street. Like Bebop Scene. I would have been great to see Charlie Parker in a rare pensive moment.

Justin: It was very, very candid shots. You did it with Lisa Robinson.

Lenny Kaye: And Richard Robinson.

Justin: What was the inspiration behind it?

Lenny Kaye: It really stemmed from Richard. When I first met him in the 60s, he was doing five magazines. He was doing Hit Parader or he was doing Go Magazine. He was a real media generator and got me and Lisa into that thing where “yeah, we're newspapery. Here's what's happening, let's have some fun with it.” Richard had the contact with this guy who had worked at Hit Parader and spun off and did Rock Scene. And Rock Scene lasted six, seven years. It's amazing. I don't think it ever broke into the black.

Lenny Kaye outside CBGB

Justin: I think there's 50-something issues.

Lenny Kaye: Yeah, it's quite amazing.

Justin: Bowie was on the first one, if I remember.

Lenny Kaye: Yes, that's right. Good memory.

Justin: No one put the New York Dolls on a magazine before you guys did. Do you remember seeing The Dolls the first time?

Lenny Kaye: Yes, I remember going over to the Mercer Street Art Center out of curiosity and seeing The Dolls, just thinking they were so great, and dancing to “Bad Girl” with Miss Elvis and Miss Ohio, wherever they are today. It was a great scene. There couldn't have been more than 20 people there to start, but it grew exponentially because there was a need for it. And then once that grew, there also came places to play, even though there was a real shortage until Max's restarted and CBGB started. I remember Patti Smith and I mostly opened up for weird folk singers in folk clubs on West 4th Street when we could get a gig because we never could break into the Club 82.

Justin: I remember seeing The Dolls at Club 82 and Wayne County and The Fast.

Lenny Kaye: Just Another Pretty Face, I remember them. They were great.

Justin: I saw Iggy and the Stooges do Raw Power at Max’s Kansas City. Mind blowing.

Lenny Kaye: Oh, yes. I remember that's the one where he cut himself.

Justin: That was a life changing experience, being three feet away from that.

Lenny Kaye: It was very small scale.

Justin: Everything was very intimate.

Lenny Kaye: It didn't seem so, but it was very private and I think that allowed all the New York bands enough space and time to get to where they wanted to. I must have seen Television dozens of times and it took them a year or two to play in-tune. Of course, this was before tuners, and I suffered from that, too.

Justin: Was this before CBGB?

Lenny Kaye: No, it was kind of contiguous. I think it was kind of end of 74, so CBGB was definitely happening.

Justin: And Television, were they the first band to play CBGB?

Lenny Kaye: I've heard that Eric Emerson was first. It's a little bit shrouded. Everybody claims to be first, but certainly by spring of 74 it was underway because I remember going with Patti. We went to see the movie Ladies and Gentlemen: The Rolling Stones up at the Ziegfeld Theater uptown. After that we went down in a cab to CBGB because she had been invited by Richard Hell, and I'd been invited by Richard Lloyd who I knew under the name of Crossfire (that was the name of his earlier band). We went to CBGB and hey, saw the beginnings of what would become the central gathering spot of the New York scene.

Debbie Harry in The Stilettos, 1974.

Justin: And Television was playing that night?

Lenny Kaye: Television was there that night. If there was a Sunday night, they just would play. I think before The Ramones ever played there. Maybe Blondie had played there under the name The Stilettos. It's so nice. It's nice when these little loci become a touchstone for the universe. It's hard to believe, and when they're growing you don't really think of it because it's just your local scene. It's just a place you go to. I spent more time at CBGB out on the sidewalk chatting someone up than watching The Ramones inside.

David Johansen, Lenny Kaye, Dee Dee Ramone & Andy Paley, NYC 1977. Photo by Bob Gruen. 

Justin: I remember going to see The Ramones. And when did you and Patti Smith decide to play there as a band?

Lenny Kaye: It just happened organically, we never set out to be a band. What we were doing was out of the mainstream. We didn’t have a drummer.

Justin: Were you already doing things pre-CBGB?

Lenny Kaye: Yeah. We did our little poetry reading in February 71, and then we didn't do anything again because it was meant to be a one night happening. But then we started again. She had a piano player. She was singing standards and she'd do her poems, and I'd come up and play something like “Annie Had A Baby.”

Justin: Was she playing with keyboardist Richard Sohl then?

Lenny Kaye: It was before Richard. There was a guy named Bill and then we had a different piano player every gig until we got Richard. Richard came in March of 74 and we started really cohering as a band. Originally, I would just come up and do things and then she'd do something with the piano, and pretty soon I'd be on the stage the whole time and she'd do a poem. Then we'd segue into a song like “Gloria.” You know, a little poem thing and then we'd go into “Gloria” or “Land of 1,000 Dances.” We improvised and we didn't know quite what we were having. At each show we could feel, "Okay. We've gone as far as we can as this weird little trio. We need another bass/guitar player." And then we got Ivan Kral. When we went to CBGB to play with Television for seven straight weeks, we were just about a band. And that's where we met JD. He became our drummer and the rest is history.

Justin: How did that go from playing in CBGB to getting signed by Clive Davis to Arista Records?

Lenny Kaye: Well, he came down to see us because Patti is an incredible performer and we generated a lot of interest.

Justin: Seymour Stein of Sire Records was signing Ramones, Dead Boys, Talking Heads.

Lenny Kaye: I think this was before. It was really just us and Television as I remember. If we could play for seven straight weeks, four nights a week, it probably meant there were no other bands there.

Justin: Two shows a night?

Lenny Kaye: Two shows a night, and we would switch off with Television Thursday through Sunday. You know, it was pretty great, and then the ball started rolling and it became a scene. I mean, the English Papers and NME and Melody Maker would write about it, and all of a sudden people started coming down to check it out. And Clive came down. I think he might have even known Patti from Blue Oyster Cult...

He signed us and allowed us to do whatever it is we did, which was probably the point. I think we got an offer from him and an offer from ESP-Disk. Sometimes I regret not being on the same label as Albert Ayler or Sun Ra.

Justin: Is she still recording for Arista?

Lenny Kaye: She records for Columbia now. We shifted to Columbia. I don't even know if Arista still exists. I think we're on Columbia at least for the last three records.

Justin: The first album was 1975?

Lenny Kaye: 1975, amazing. Just about this time of year we were on tour with it for the first time.

Justin: And never could you have imagined that you would still be doing it?

Lenny Kaye: I can't imagine that still, you know? It really is remarkable that the work you do keeps on circling around and paying you back. I know a lot of it has to do with the fact that we have a very unique leader. Patti is so frontal on so many different levels, artistically, different mediums, and is such an incredible performer. A lot of that has to do with our longevity and the fact that we're not really pigeonholed as any kind of music. We're associated with the punk scene, but a lot of our stuff has as little to do with punk rock as anything else. We're as much a progressive jazz band sometimes. We have a lot of long songs and a lot of involved poetry. We're all over the place, and sometimes that's good if you can't be classified. I mean, lord I love The Ramones, but they had a very specific one-note sound. I think Patti's always been hard to categorize. It's kept us at a good level in the musical world. We're not playing arenas and we're not playing dumps. We're playing nice theaters, and that's always a good thing.

Justin: Do you think something like that is ever possible again in New York? A scene where something came out of nothing?

Lenny Kaye: Well, I don't know what's happening out in the wiles of Bushwick. I'm sure somewhere there's a collection of people who are doing what they need to do in this universe.

Justin: Because people are always saying, "Oh, New York's dead. It's not like it was.”

Lenny Kaye: Well, it's not like it was, but it wasn't like it was when it was. I mean, I got sheet music from the 1930s that says, "New York's not the place it used to be," bemoaning the fact that the lobster place in Times Square or Rector's isn't there. I mean, things change and I'm all for change.

I don't even think it should be “New York.” In my book I traced the evolution of these scenes, as I call it, from Memphis in 54 through New Orleans in 57, Philly in 59, Liverpool 62, San Francisco 67, New York 75 and on and on. It's interesting to see them all gather the energy. Whether this is possible in the age of instant communication, that's a question I think the 21st century will answer. I know one of my favorite places that I desired to go to see bands was San Francisco in 67. I had that Fillmore poster with The Grateful Dead and Jefferson Airplane and Quicksilver Messenger Service on my wall, waiting to get in the car so I could actually hear what they sounded like. I had no idea. I had no idea what Big Brother and The Holding Company sounded like, and I couldn't hit a button and just go.

Justin: There weren't records out?

Lenny Kaye: They hadn't put records out but you were hearing about them in the "underground press" and you just want to hear them.

Justin: Did you take that drive?

Lenny Kaye: Yeah. 1967, me and my buddy Larry got in a 56 Ford with $80 and just kept going. And we arrived there and I got to see The Grateful Dead in Golden Gate Park, Big Brother at The Avalon. They're just amazing.

The desire to be where it's at. Like how a lot of people migrated to New York when they heard about CBGB. Whether they need to do that now, I don't know. I haven't heard of a place that everybody wants to move to all of a sudden. Maybe the internet has made it too easy to get your message to somebody. You form a band and two days later your video is on YouTube, everybody could see it. That's a different path to people's consciousness. I don't know. All I know is that I really like when geography, time and space meet.

Justin: Milk 'N' Cookies was living in LA around 76, 77 when the whole UK punk thing exploded and the Sex Pistols played their last show at Winterland. And we all got in a van from LA with a couple of the Go-Gos and Brett Smiley and Legs McNeil and went to see the Sex Pistols for what turned out to be their last show ever.

Lenny Kaye: That's amazing.

Lenny Kaye: Maybe it's happening somewhere that I don't know about, and more power to it. I'm sure all those bebop jazz guys from 52nd street, when they heard about CBGB, would think, "What are those kids doing? They don't know a Flatted 5th if it fell on them." I like musical progression, and I think we're now getting distant enough from rock n roll that it’s almost like rock n roll is enclosed in its own parentheses. And I'm sure people will be playing guitars from now until kingdom come. But at this point, just about everything that you can do with a guitar has been done and maybe it's time to make room for the next type of music to take over.

Justin: Have you seen any newer bands that you think are exciting or inspiring?

Lenny Kaye: I actually just go see my friends play, I got to say. I'm going back home to continue writing. I'm trying not to do anything because I have a really bad deadline that I've blown already. Just happy to get this interview done with you.

Justin: Thank you. I appreciate it.

Lenny Kaye: Just enjoy it because we've been friends for way too long.

Justin: You were high on my list when I started this thing, and I know between touring and my DJ stuff it's been hard to make it happen.

Lenny Kaye: There's no wine before its time.

Justin: But it's great to sit down with you because, like I said, when Nuggets came out it was one of the records that was so inspiring to me, just finding all those songs. I knew some of them of course...

Lenny Kaye: Some of them were weird. You know what, we love music. I still find myself buying records and adding to my increasing piles.

Justin: You still dig for vinyl?

Lenny Kaye: Yeah! I just got a vintage Marantz receiver so I've been getting my records out and enjoying how great they sound. I just love music. It's really fun to be able to justify being immersed in it. I feel very whole in my consciousness, which is a great blessing in my golden years.

Justin: It's a beautiful thing when you get to do something you love.

Lenny Kaye: And you're able to keep doing it. I'll do anything within the world of it. If I'm not playing and I get a chance to take my records to DJ somewhere — actually enjoy listening to them as well as seeing people get wild out there — that's a great thing. It's great to play the music. It's great to write about it. It's great to look for whatever that next record is going to be. And we don't know yet, do we?

[cosmiciaria]

Assassin’s Creed: Syndicate Review! (spoiler free - long post)

It's done! I finished my first AC game ever! And I loved it!! YAAAY!!

First things first: this is going to be an honest review. I liked the game, A LOT, more than I expected, actually, but it has flaws. Not many that I could find personally, but it has. But before I delve deeper into it, let's have an overview of the game.

AC: Syndicate is the ninth?, installment in the Assassin's Creed franchise. It's a sequel to Unity, that came out just a year before, but you don't need to play any of the other AC games to plunge into this one (or any of them, to be honest), since each game tells a self-contained story. If you've been living under a rock for the past decade or you don't know a thing about videogames, Assassin's Creed games follow a character in the present time, joining the Order of the Assassins, warriors and masters of stealth that have been at odds with the Templars since time immemorial. The Templars desire the pieces of Eden, magical artifacts created with ancient technology by the Precursors, gods and goddesses that somehow bear the names of the Roman pantheon members. These pieces of Eden are extremely dangerous in the wrong hands, but have been long lost to the folds of History and withered pages of books. The Assassins must find them in today's world, through the genetic memories buried within the DNA of the descendants of the Assassins that at some point in History have come into contact with those artifacts.

Well, that premise is true for all Assassin's Creed games. This time, we're following the same initiate we met during Black Flag and Unity, if I'm not mistaken. The previous games have followed Desmond Miles, an actual character with a face, but in these "in-between" installments, the initiate is a faceless placeholder for the player to incarnate them. But, to be honest, the present timeline is, uh, what's this word…

BORING.

Nobody cares what's going on in the present! Let's move on to the actual plot!

Syndicate takes us to Victorian London! Through the DNA of the initiate we travel in time to 1868, to the middle of the British capital. Our protagonists this time is a pair of twins: Jacob and, lo and behold, Evie Frye. I say "lo and behold" because this is the first official female assassin protagonist that we have in the mainline series of games. Prior to this game, we have Liberation which also followed a female assassin, the real first one, but that game is a spin off and mostly overlooked, since it came out only for the Vita sadly back in the day (although there's a remaster for the ps3!). Either way, all previous Assassin's Creed games (if Syndicate is the ninth, then you got the number) have starred male assassins as their protagonists. In Unity this came to a great peak when in the multiplayer co-op players were unable to play as female avatars, which caused a great ruckus. As Syndicate intended to mend many of the problems players found in Unity, we have now an official, canon female character in the main series! And I say: CHEERS TO THAT!

I MUST address this because it was one of the two reasons why I bought this game. I was never interested in the AC games but I've always wanted this one, because you could play as Evie Frye. As a female cis person, I find the lack of canon female protagonist to be baffling, to say the least (the actual word I'm looking for would be "annoying"). I'm not going to say that I'm forced to play as a male character all the time, because nobody forces me to play any game, I play them all because I wish to – but the truth is that, for many years, the videogame industry has been directed at one public only: boys. And some boys, for some reason, won't play the game if the protagonist is a girl or looks like a girl. And I don't care if the presence of a female character breaks your history immersion and whatnot: we have fricking magic in this game, do not throw historical accuracy at me for it. So, Ubisoft: I AM GLAD you created Evie Frye. She's fearless, she's relentless, she's clever, she has a clear goal in mind and solves every little piece to make the bigger plan work. She's badass without throwing her femininity off the window, and for a change she's the one saving the man in distress. I love her and her cloaks. Also she's cute as hell.

I am ALSO GLAD that Ubisoft created Jacob Frye! Jacob is a good balance to Evie, since he's more impulsive, a brawler, and likes throwing himself into battle. He speaks with fists, while never leaving his morals aside. He shows disregard for careful plans, but ultimately works in favor of them. He might sound a little stupid when I picture him this way, but he's not: he follows the creed strictly, during the assassination missions he shows clear precision, planification and ingenuity, and most importantly, he has a golden heart, and knows his ideals and principles very well. And for the love of Minerva, he's so handsome I might die.

So the Frye twins are both your protagonists this time! During the open world map and sidequests, you can switch between them on the fly. But during main missions, one of them will be assigned for you to play as and you'll be forced to complete the quest with either of them. Evie favors stealth, whereas Jacob is all about combat. This allows the player to tackle the game and the different activities as they see fit. If you're patient, probably Evie will be best for you, but if you can't handle the stealth, choose Jacob and start throwing punches! The city of London is open for you to choose the way you can liberate it.

And that takes me to my second reason why I bought this game: London.

For a not native-English-speaker as myself, who has learned and studied British English for over ten years, London will always hold a soft spot in my heart. Two years ago I was finally able to realize my dream and visit the city for the first time ever. I cried when I stepped out of St. Pancrasse station, understanding that my feet were touching English ground. So when I saw that this game not only offered me the chance to play as a female assassin, but it would also allow me to revisit London, I didn't think twice.

We follow Jacob and Evie to London, where they must meet Henry Green, the assassin watching over that city, in pursue of an important Templar figure: Starrick. Along the way to assassinate him, we'll take down other important Templar members, all responding to him. As I will keep this spoiler free, let's leave it at that. Let's just say that Starrick is in London, controlling every nook and cranny, while his second in command, Lucy Thorne, is reservedly researching the leads of a possible piece of Eden that might be hidden in the city's most secretive places.

London is so well recreated, I cried once when I stopped in front of the Big Ben. You're only able to visit and play through a portion of the city, around the Thames and Westminster, but still, even small though it seems, the map is big enough and full of activities to fulfill. The streets feel alive with its multiple, many, MANY npc's walking, running, driving carriages, interacting with each other, often having conversations as well! I was astonished when I was walking with Evie down an alley and an npc waved his hand to another npc that was some feet away, and the first one rushed to the second one to greet each other. It was such a realistic thing to see on the street that I was amazed at the technology behind it. As always, AC games excel at the presentation of countless npc's, each with a different animation and voices. On top of that, the city looks gorgeous, with so many details that I often stopped to stare, especially in the most emblematic buildings, like the different train Stations, the Parliament, St Paul's Cathedral, Westminster Abbey, and, of course, the Buckingham Palace. Everything is so faithful and vibrant and alive, that… yes, I love it. I fricking love it. I travelled again there in this game and I'm thankful for it.

There are nine sequences with 4 to 7 memories each, and all of them are different and unique enough to make them memorable. In particular, the main assassination quests were complex, using exclusive scenarios to the mission, offering the player different paths to tackle the killing – they were my favorite out of all the game. The last mission was *chef kiss*.

Apart from the main missions, you can slowly liberate each neighborhood from the Templars' claws. Each borough has a set of different activities to complete in order for you to "conquer" it. Gang wars, bounty hunts, Templar hunts, there's a lot to do. It might seem a lot at first, but you'll soon see the patterns across the sidequests, only to (unfortunately) realize that they're all the same. These can get tiresome and repetitive after a while, but they're also the best way to level up and earn money quickly. My personal favorite were the child liberations, because I felt like I was doing a good deed and also as if Charles Dickens himself was asking me to do it.

Oh, yes, Charles Dickens is in this game! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT, because I don't! He's one of my favorite authors, so, to be GIVEN a QUEST by HIM, I'm in tears guys, do you understand why I loved this game so much??

But Dickens isn't the only historical person that you'll encounter: Darwin also makes an appearance, as well as Marx (of whom I believed to be in Brussels, but I guess he visited London at some point – now I want an AC game set in Brussels), and Alexander Graham Bell, who will be your DaVinci of this game (Oh, now I want to play Ezio's games), offering you new toys to tinker with as you pave your way across the city. There are other historical people, but I won't mention them, since they're probably a spoiler, so I'll let you be surprised!

You'll have like a "hub world", or more like, a hub train – a train will be your hideout, your base, where you'll collect money, take some quests, interact with some characters and buy stuff cheaper. This train will constantly move around the city – sometimes I found myself appearing on the other side of the map because I was studying and investigating the things the train offered. I really liked the idea of a "moving base house", also it's quite fancy, and besides, I love trains. This game just keeps bringing me the good content.

Evie and Jacob are good protagonists – I'm not going to say they slay at it, but they serve the purpose. They're quite stereotypical, specially Jacob, as he seems to follow the trend Ezio imposed back in the day, and to which Arno also contributed – and Evie is quite the "polar opposite", a cliché often used on twins to express how "different they are". Their personalities are nothing new; what is endearing and worth noting, though, is their interactions. At first I thought "this is going to be another of the never-ending cases of twins acting like friends instead of siblings". I do come across this mistake more frequently than I'd like to, only broken by some exceptions (World of Final Fantasy is a really good one), even more if the twins are a boy and girl. I'm not saying twins shouldn't be friends themselves, but they're siblings first, for the love of Juno, and most creators who put twins into their stories don't seem to remember how siblings treat each other. Luckily, this game proved me wrong, since the Frye twins showed me that they're real siblings: not because they quarrel (they do, sometimes, quite forced in my opinion), but because of the way they look at each other, they care for each other, they often joke about the other, the familiarity and complicity they treat some topics with, because of the small banter that you can hear them have in the train hideout, how Jacob teases Evie with Henry or how Evie teases Jacob for the cloaks he's wearing – that, all of that, all combined, make up for a good sibling relationship and show me that these two have been brother and sister for a while now. I'm glad they ended up being one of the exceptions to this godawful rule among the fictional twin characters. I would've liked, though, maybe a few more scenes with them having a real heart to heart – I think we were robbed of one or two (specially after sequence 8 if you ask me- Jacob please, let's talk, baby).

Henry is another important character – although I thought he'd be more important. He ultimately appeared in less missions than I expected, and is soon relegated to be Evie's love interest and that's it. And even that is, uh… a little underwhelming. I kinda shipped them at first, then I was like "please, they're FRIENDS, don't force this", only to see myself getting disappointed. I think Henry needed more screentime for me to care more about him, and I definitely believe that, after that mission with Evie, we needed a cutscene with an explanation. It was kind of forgotten later, and he felt more like a plot device than anything else. I'm sad, because he could've been a great opportunity to show us a bit of Indian culture, and also because by the end of the game he's treated like another protagonist, when it doesn't feel like he'd earned it, though, considering the whole game. My opinion.

There are other characters worth mentioning, like Freddy Abberline, another historical person, whose running gag about disguises soon grew on me; Clara O'Dea, a little girl who asks us to liberate her fellow children friends from the claws of foremen who exploit them and acts like a little spy for us; Ned Wynart, who brings trans representation into the game; and some other sequence exclusive characters, who I won't mention because it will spoilerish. Let's just say that Jacob comes across a very interesting man.

On the technical department, I already said that London looks great, but I want to stress this: the whole game looks great. From cinematography to animations, I think they nailed the direction in this one. As my first AC game I can't speak for the others, but this one is a gem. I must mention though that the game crashed on me only once, and I was looking for the "destruction trophy", the one that asks you to break 5000 destructible items of the city – well, it seems I had destroyed enough and the game couldn't take any more wrecked chaos across London, but other than that I didn't encounter any bug nor any trophy didn't pop up. It looks great and it plays great: the controls are responsive, you swiftly dash across the city feeling unstoppable – sometimes controls didn't do what I wanted but it wasn't the game's fault, it was mine, so I can't blame it for my own stupidity.

The soundtrack is also such an unexpected jewel in this game. The solemn tracks that play on the background while you're peacefully traversing the city – some are lyrical and dramatic, others go well with a rainy suburb. The vibrant and electrifying tracks during battles or escapes did bring all the Sherlock Holmes movies vibes to the game. It was all – so English, if you catch my drift. The music did fit well with the British atmosphere they were aiming for.

The ending is satisfying – don't expect an opera prima, or a huge revelation, or groundbreaking plot twists. The story is fairly lineal in its presentation: this is the goal? Alright, the whole game goes for it. We can say that it's quite predictable, but let's be honest, we're not here for the ending or the things that might happen to discover the characters in the present time, we're here to assassinate people with our beautifully hidden blade – wait, that sounded way too violent – we're here for the gameplay, for the historical events, for the feeling of being an assassin, and for some world-building regarding the Precursors.

In regards to that, I cannot not mention the World War I Simulation – a rift in time appears in the Thames towards halfway through the game, and you can enter it – it will take you forward in time, to the same London that is now under the attack of the German. In this more modern time, you play as Lydia Frye, Jacob's granddaughter, also an assassin, who collaborates with no other than Winston Churchill to defeat the Templars. In this kind of DLC episode we learn way more about the Precursors, Juno, Minerva and other important figures to this world-building, that it's mostly lacking in the rest of the game. This simulation does feel like a DLC since it only offers a few hours of gameplay, the metaphor isn't in vain – it's a huge change of pace, it plays a little different since you'll be doing war stuff, and you also visit a portion of the city that isn't available in the main game: the Tower Bridge. It IS worth playing, though, not only for the trophies or for the extended map, but for what I said earlier: world-building. Juno plays a big part in this simulation, and I encourage you to play it, even though it's optional. Slowly but steadily, the world of the Precursors is unfolding before our very eyes. Also, Lydia, YASS another female assassin joins the family!

All in all, Syndicate is a positive experience. Sidequests are repetitive and mostly boring after you complete the first borough, some characters needed more screentime, Evie and Jacob could've used a sensitive cutscene with a deep conversation – but the mechanics, the gameplay, the city, the main missions, the relationship between the twins, the customization of weapons and outfits, and the fact that I literally entered Buckingham Palace after killing a royal guard or two – that, is more than enough to compensate for what it's lacking. You might be tired of the same formula over and over if you're a fan of the franchise, but do give the twins a shot. If you never play an AC game before, try this one out – it might turn you into an AC fangirl, like it did to me.

I'm a trophy hunter myself, so I'll try to platinum it! And now my eyes are intent on Unity, because, if you've seen this post, you know that Arno and Élise resemble two of my oc's, so now I need that game to be injected into my veins, thank you very much.

[theoriginalkidwithapen]

Principia – De Motu Corporum X

CW:  foul language, colonialism, references to the Troubles and the Vietnam War

“Every body, that by a radius drawn to the centre of another body, how soever moved, describes areas about that centre proportional to the times, is urged by a force compounded out of the centripetal force tending to that other body, and of all the accelerative force by which that other body is impelled.”

– Sir Isaac Newton, “Philosophae Naturalis Principia Mathematica”

Jon and Misty finished recounting the details of the incident at Fasal.  Although they did their best to hide their emotions behind stoic facades, the human officers of the board could not conceal them from Jon’s non-verbal signals analysis suite – only the android’s were secreted behind that bronze mask of hers.  About half of them, including the Kerepunu colonel, were satisfied with his report and his command decisions, the others, including the Lithuanian, questioned his handling of the situation. A nearly even split.  Jon was nothing if not consistent. “Commander,” the Lithuanian asked sternly, “how would you characterize this Earther woman, Reynolds?” “Strong, tough, determined, disaffected,” Jon replied, “she’d probably be astute with the right upgrades and remedial education.  Chief Olayinka thinks she has a lot of emotional baggage that needs to be unpacked, but her low self-esteem and confidence most likely result from a lifetime living in a society that places no value on her life.  She should make a valuable addition to this commander’s team.” “But you couldn’t have known of her existence beforehand,” the Lithuanian pressed, “It sounds to me like you’re just trying to justify a poor command decision after the fact. “Besides,” he continued, “if you’re not careful with your recruitment choices, your unit could acquire a reputation as a haven for salvage jobs.” Jon and Misty bristled at his inflammatory remark, but said nothing.

“I assume that you acquired something of value to make up for this egregious error of yours?” the Lithuanian concluded with stoic mockery. Jon slapped an MSD labeled “Insurance” onto the table and slid it over to the android.  “Would this do?” he asked with feigned cluelessness. The android inspected the MSD.  “What is this?” she asked. “Intelligence acquired through sources and methods indicating that someone is secretly experimenting with advanced technology,” Jon replied, “Someone who has somehow escaped O7’s notice.” “Is that new threat attempting to copy our technology?” the android inquired. “Not unless O5 has constructed a working hyperspace propulsion drive,” Jon clarified, “I thought they were still a few decades away from perfecting the theory behind hyperspace translation.” The rest of the board stared at him in disbelief.  “That’s impossible,” another member of the board, an Ojibwe-descended major exclaimed, “O5 canceled that project last year.  Their Estimate Of The Situation concluded that higher dimensions could only exist as mathematical curiosities, and that the science had no real-world applications.” “Indeed,” the android continued, “it would take nothing less than successfully formulating a complete grand unified theory to realize it.  What you’re saying is that an agent unknown has developed superior science to our own and is experimenting with applications of that science for purposes unknown.” “That is correct, General,” Jon said, “And if this evidence is substantiated, it would represent an existential threat to Mars.” “You’ll forgive me if I don’t find your explanation compelling,” the Lithuanian countered, “Hyperspace travel?  Grand unified theory?  This is science fiction, not intelligence!” “Agreed,” a captain of Cubeo ancestry concurred, “It’s far more likely that this is part of a new disinformation campaign of Earth’s to tie up and expose Martian Intelligence assets.  I recommend that this ‘evidence’ be disregarded as irrelevant.” “The evidence will go to O7 for analysis,” the android declared, “For now, Commander Orvar, your team is on standby until further notice.  Do nothing to draw attention to yourselves and remain here on Luna. “Of course,” she appended, “you should maintain situational monitoring, in case something interesting happens your way.  Dismissed.” Jon and Misty stood up, saluted the board, and marched out of the room. “For being such an uncomplicated man,” Misty said to Jon after they were out of earshot, “you never fail to surprise me, anata.” “Maybe I’m a little more complicated than you give me credit for,” Jon joked. “I doubt it,” Misty said with a smile.

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Finchley and Nguyen returned to the Governor’s Residence to continue their investigation into the Governor’s murder.  The entire area was, if anything, even more heavily secured than it was when they left.  Twice the number of MCVs, double the garrison, sharpshooter teams on the rooftops and upper floor, and security scanners at every checkpoint – they were taking every precaution against another assassin striking at the Interim Governor-General of the Lunar Colonies. Not that any of these measures would have prevented the last murder, of course, but this security theater was deemed necessary as a show of force, to convince the Selenites that the colonial government wasn’t weakened by the attack. Poor bloody Loonies, Finchley thought to himself as a Selenite butler was pulled aside by security for questioning. Nguyen could see the pity on Finchley’s face.  “What is it, Ewan?” she asked him. “I worry about what the response will be,” Finchley mulled, “I know how the Ministry of Public Safety operate – whether through the force of their Department of Harmony, or the persuasion of their Department of Veracity, they will respond.  Either way, it will end poorly for the Selenites.” “If they’d stop complaining like spoiled children, we wouldn’t have to put them back in their place so often,” Nguyen opined, “They should be fucking grateful for everything Earth does for them.  Between the docks, the Peacekeeper bases, the factories, and the tourism, they’ve got jobs, they’ve got an economy, and they’ve got protection from the Outers and Martians.  We provide them with the supplies and equipment they need to keep their domes running.  They should be parading in the streets for all we do for them, instead they’re bitching about problems of their own making like the whiny little shits they are.” “Strange that you’d come to Amsha’s defence so passionately when you hold her people in such little regard,” Finchley noted. “Just because I didn’t like how that asshole was beating the shit out of that Loonie,” Nguyen retorted, “it doesn’t mean I think she’s innocent.  Killing the Governor with anatoxin was a political statement, make no mistake.” “The history of my people is full of events similar to what’s happened here on the Moon,” Finchley began as they finally approached the shed which contained the Residence’s life support machinery.  The shed stylized as a horse stable on the outside – its 19th century design belying its 23rd century contents. “The English colonised my home country of Ireland some 600 years ago,” Finchley continued as he led Nguyen to the clean water connection to the station’s plumbing, “and what followed was nearly 400 years of bloodshed and misery at the hands of English conquerors.  Here we are – Clean Water Intake Junction Monitoring Panel.  Computer, run diagnostic programme and report levels of cyanobacteria for the last 36 hours.”  The computer began forming its diagnostic report. “What’s your point, Ewan?” Nguyen asked impatiently. “That they probably have legitimate grievances against the colonial government,” Finchley answered, “You’ve seen how they live here – whole sectors of the city are full of jobless Selenites while most of the work goes to resettled Earthers due to the policies of the Ministries of Labour and Extraterrestrial Affairs.  It’s no wonder that some of them have turned to crime or political violence.” “Diagnostic report complete,” the vaguely feminine synthetic voice of the computer announced, “No cyanobacterial contamination found.  No trace amount of anatoxin-a or anatoxin-s found.  Clean Water Intake Junction operating at nominal efficacy.” “No malfunctions here,” Nguyen reported, “Economic issues are no excuse to cause trouble.” “Say someone whose nation responded to famine caused by decades of French, Japanese, and American colonisation with armed communist revolution,” Finchley observed facetiously, “We’ll check the water reclamation unit next.” “Computer,” Nguyen ordered at the next station, “run diagnostic program and report level of cyanobacteria for the last 36 hours.  I don’t see the connection.  My ancestors fought the resistance war against American imperialism to bring about the reunification of the Vietnamese people, not to complain about our living conditions.” “But your ancestors still chose violence to end the rule by colonist fiat,” Finchley remarked, “so isn’t there a hint of hypocrisy in your position, now that you’re on the other side?” “Diagnostic report complete,” the computer reported, “No cyanobacteria contamination found.  Trace amounts of anatoxin-a detected in Main Filtration Manifold B on 22930112 from 08:17:47 to 14:39:11.  Peak concentration:  481 parts per million.  Be advised that the contaminant sensors in this unit have been reporting false positives since 22930112, 08:17:47.  Additional maintenance servicing required.” “I think I’ve got something,” Nguyen called out, “No cyanobacteria, but for 6 hours and 12 minutes, the unit recorded lethal levels of anatoxin in one of the filtration manifolds.” “Which manifold?” Finchley asked. “Main Manifold B,” Nguyen replied, “Computer, display schematic of Main Filtration Manifold B and all connected systems.” The systems monitor displayed the appropriate diagram.  Nguyen traced her finger back up the flow path to the algaculture panels of the air recycling system.  “Computer,” she dictated, “run diagnostic program on Air Recycling System Algaculture Panels.  Report cyanobacteria level for the last 36 hours.” Nguyen turned to face Finchley.  “I don’t think there’s any hypocrisy,” she continued, “the Lunar colonies are only a couple centuries old – they haven’t been around long enough to have a national identity.  Vietnamese civilization has endured for more than 5,000 years.  Even the ICP predated the first Lunar landings by nearly 30 years.  Most Loonies are only a generation or two removed from malcontents who felt that life on Earth wasn’t good enough for them.” “Diagnostic report complete,” the computer stated, “No cyanobacterial contamination found.  No trace of anatoxin-a or anatoxin-s found.  Air Recycling System Algaculture Panels operating at nominal efficacy.” “That can’t be right,” Finchley exclaimed, “Computer, confirm diagnostic report.” “Diagnostic report confirmed,” the computer replied, “No contamination or malfunctions found in the past 36 hours.” “I don’t understand how this is possible,” Nguyen puzzled, “Why would the computer show anatoxin in the filtration manifold, but not in the algaculture panels it drains from?” “Maybe it is a sensor malfunction,” Finchley said, “The computer did mention that as a possibility.” “I’d think that you’d want to do something you can to prove your pet Loonie innocent,” Nguyen remarked snidely, “Wouldn’t a sensor malfunction suggest that she was the one who poisoned the Governor?” “Good point,” Finchley agreed, “I guess there’s nothing for it but to open that panel up and take a look ourselves.” “I want to try something first,” Nguyen said, “Computer, open maintenance log.  When was the last time the access panel to Main Filtration Manifold B opened?” “22921010, 07:51:18,” the computer replied. “Three months ago,” Finchley deduced, “What about the algae panels themselves?  Computer, when was the last time the access panel to the Air Recycling System Algaculture Panels opened?” “22930112, 08:12:02,” the computer reported. “Five minutes before the manifold recorded its first anatoxin levels,” Finchley commented, “How’s that for timing?” “Sounds pretty suspicious to me,” Nguyen concurred, “Let’s get that panel off.” Together, the two pressed the buttons in the top two corners and lifted the now-unfastened panel away from its housing.  Inside the compartment was a rack of 12 panels, each composed of winding and branching transparent piping filled with a sickly green froth.  Each rack had two of these raceways, with a matrix of artificial light diodes sandwiched between them.  The churning jade effervescence was what kept the air from growing toxic – an aerated algae concoction which used photosynthesis to turn the carbon dioxide humans exhaled into the oxygen they needed to avoid suffocation.  It was not a pretty sight, but few of those things which make life possible are. Nguyen pulled out one of the panels, revealing the santorum within the pipes to be a turquoise color, rather than the lichen green of the other panels.  The corner of her mouth twitched in irritation. “This had better not be what I think it is,” Nguyen grumbled, “Computer, identify cause of crop discoloration in panel 4.” “No discoloration detected,” the computer reported, “Algaculture Panel 4 is functioning within established parameters.” “How is that possible!?” Nguyen exclaimed as she banged her palm on the rack’s housing in frustration, “I’m telling you, the crop is the wrong color!” “Please restate as a question,” the computer requested. “Oh, fuck this piece of scrap!” Nguyen roared as she gave the housing a good, hard kick before storming out of the room. Finchley pulled out his handset and placed a call.  “Yes, it’s Finchley,” he said, “I need a forensics team at the Governor’s Residence, life support building.  We’ve discovered a possible malfunction in the life support system that may be connected to the murder of Governor Najjar.”

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Despite being the first day on a new job, especially one that involved a lot of heavy lifting and on-the-job training, Sara felt it was a good day.  She had worked just hard enough to feel the satisfaction of a day’s manual labor, and she was surprised to discover that she liked it. Admittedly, she found it a little difficult to fit in with the others – all of them were Selenites, and most of them were Aboriginals like Tahlia.  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to assimilate, but rather that they had such a different way of doing things – their own social cues, nicknames, their penchant for laughing and making jokes, their own way of speaking that she could barely follow – it was a lot for her to adjust to all at once. “Gee, I’m dry,” a Cockney woman about Sara’s age who she learned was called Rosie Leah sighed as she removed her helmet, “Who wants to go get charged up after shift?” “Gorn den, auntie girl,” an Aboriginal man called Charles goaded playfully, “You get deadly cheeky every time you have a sip.  Shame job ay, blackfullas?” “Ay, tidda,” another Aboriginal man about Sara’s age called out, “I’m tonguing for a drink myself.  Gotta lend, captain?” “Nah, on me off week,” Rosie answered as she peeled her pressure suit off, revealing functional underwear beneath, “‘Sides, you’re such a cadja, Dennis!” Charles stripped his suit off, and wearing nothing but his long briefs placed it in the laundry hamper.  “You’re always on your off week, Rosie,” he chastised her jocularly, “It’s like you sign a form every fortnight and you’re just gammon here.  Rosie, you make me weak!” “Ay, don’t try to be a blackman now,” Rosie said as she pulled on her coverall, “You wanna get slapped up, buddah boy?” “Come at me, sista!” Charles challenged, and Rosie pounced on him.  Sara watched them playfully grapple distantly, their physical separation from her dwarfed by the social gap between them.  She wished that she could join in in their fun and camaraderie, but she didn’t know how, or if she’d even be welcome among them. Tahlia clapped her hand on Sara’s back and sat down next to her on the bench.  “Minding some sorry business, darlen?” she asked, “You’re a deadly serious one, ay?” “No…  auntie?” Sara replied, subdued and trying out some of the Aboriginal slang she heard used on the docks all day, “I…  I’m not sure how I’m supposed to fit in here.  I mean, today’s been great… deadly? great, and this place is better than anywhere I’ve ever worked at, but you…  fullas…  do things so differently around here, and I don’t know how, or if, I can be a part of that.” “Ayy, darlen,” Tahlia said sympathetically, “you’re no fringe dweller, no need to get low.  Tell you what – my mob here’s gonna knock about at a hospitality district in the southeast corridor.  You wanna party up with us, auntie girl?” “I don’t have any cash,” Sara said. “You can fix me up later,” Tahlia dismissed, “Let’s get you outta that suit and cleaned up, then we’ll hump it to my unc’s – he’s got a steakhouse down that way.  The meat may be fake, but he makes a deadly chicken fried steak dinner.” Tahlia stood up, then climbed atop the bench so that she stood above the rest.  “Listen up now, fullas!” she called out, “Me and this one are gonna party up at my uncle’s.  You lot comin’ or what?” “Ay, look out, big shot now,” Dennis retorted loudly, “Tahlia’s flashin’ black for the Earthfulla girl, true?” “You got jelly beans there, baby cousin,” Tahlia taunted, “at the end of the day, we’re all just blackfullas, true?” “True that!” the rest of the room shouted.  Tahlia brushed her hands together in a specific way, and the others began to file out of the locker room as they finished dressing. Sara stopped for a moment after putting her suit into the hamper.  “Tahlia,” she said, “‘deadly’ means ‘good,’ right?” Tahlia smiled.  “We’ll make a goodfulla outta you yet, sistagirl,” she asserted.

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Finchley had lost count of the number of cups of coffee he’d poured while waiting for the forensics team to finish going over the Residence’s life support system with a fine-toothed comb.  However many he had had, it was enough to make the cheap shit LSS normally stocked in their offices almost palatable.

Of course, the stuff would probably give him cancer in 10 years, but Finchley never had any illusions that he would live a long, full life.  In fact, he always imagined that he’d wind up face down in some dark tunnel somewhere, far from home.

The forensics officer exited the life support building, their LSS windbreaker more of an affectation than a practical uniform in an environment without weather of any kind.  Even now, centuries after widespread acceptance of genders other than male and female, Finchley still reflexively thought of them as “she,” but caught himself before that line of thought continued.

The officer could be described as mostly gynetypical – they had a feminine pointed jaw and narrow shoulders, and their flat bust and square hips lent them a boyish figure; they almost looked too young to be in that uniform.

“LSS forensics specialist Tomomi Maeda, they/them/theirs,” the officer reported, “Here’s the report you asked for.”

Finchley took the tablet they offered as Officer Maeda continued.  “In summary,” they said, “Panel 4 of the air recycling system has a severe case of cyanobacteria contamination, species Planktothrix Agardhii, caused by an uncontrolled algal bloom.  Judging by the unusual spread of the contamination as well as its concentration, it would appear that it was placed there deliberately through the secondary pressure release valve.”

“Why didn’t the sensors pick it up?” Finchley asked.

“Someone had altered the sensor config file to report false readings,” Maeda answered, “We discovered this when the diagnostic report indicated anomalously high levels of dihydroanatoxin-a and epoxyanatoxin-a, which are non-toxic products of the photodegradation of anatoxin-a.”

“How was this accomplished?” Finchley asked.

“As you can imagine,” Maeda explained, “It’s not as simple a matter of sending a false system patch from a remote location.  In order to update the config file, it has to be installed on a secure MSD dongle.”

“Who has the ability to do something like this?” Finchley inquired.

“Well,” Maeda professed, “the MSDs used for systems like this are write-once encrypted units manufactured to be incompatible with standard MSD formats – your average logic jockey couldn’t have done this.  Apart from the manufacturer and the life support utility company, it’s nearly impossible to acquire one, let alone the 15 needed to hide an algal bloom like this one.”

“Fifteen?” Finchley exclaimed, “So the file wasn’t simply copied to all the other systems?”

“No,” Maeda answered, “Each module has its own dedicated diagnostic and reporting computer, with its own bank of config dongles.  The only people who would have both the skills and the access privileges would be CELSS engineers and LSU technicians.”

“There was an LSU technician who serviced the system just hours before the Governor was killed,” Finchley mused, “This is a lead that could be worth pursuing.  Is there any reason why Main Manifold B wasn’t affected?”

“It wasn’t on the inspection ticket,” Maeda replied, “Besides, the manifold itself is laborious to service – in order to get to the MSD bank, the entire manifold would have to be removed, which requires the closure of 18 separate green water valves and the disconnection of 23 pipes and conduit.  That would be an unexplained gap 20 minutes long, which would arouse suspicion.”

“Thanks,” Finchley said as he handed back the tablet.  He choked down the last of his coffee, set his cup down, and went over to the front gate where Nguyen was fuming.

“When you feel like working,” Finchley admonished, “it looks like LSU might have something to do with this.”

“LSU is a union contractor,” Nguyen began, “affiliated with the Lunar Labor League.  The LLT has discreet ties with the Selenite Liberation Front–”

“...And by extension,” Finchley finished, “the Organisation.”