#while everyone else posts heartfelt messages.. icon

[girlbloggerdotcom]

gilles 😭 whyyy would you post this

[paulmusicblog]

Thanksgiving at Alice's Restaurant

Thanksgiving is full of rich traditions—turkey dinners, family gatherings, and an assortment of heartfelt thanks—but for some, it’s not complete without listening to Arlo Guthrie’s Alice’s Restaurant. A 1967 masterpiece, this song has a deep connection to Thanksgiving that keeps it ingrained in the hearts of fans. Let’s talk about why Alice’s Restaurant feels as essential as cranberry sauce on the fourth Thursday of November.

What Makes Alice’s Restaurant a Thanksgiving Staple?

Before we get into why this song is tied to Thanksgiving, let’s acknowledge the elephant in the room—this isn’t about a restaurant in the traditional sense. No, Alice’s Restaurant is a sprawling, satirical ballad filled with humor, counterculture commentary, and a good dose of Guthrie’s charisma.

The story begins with garbage. Yes, garbage. In the song, Guthrie and a friend decide to help Alice by tossing her trash at a nearby dump, only to find themselves entangled in an absurd bureaucratic mess. But why Thanksgiving? Well, the story starts on Thanksgiving Day, blending seamlessly with the holiday vibe of togetherness and, ironically, chaos. Its over-18-minute runtime almost feels like a turkey dinner—it’s long, indulgent, and oddly comforting by the end. Want to hear the full tale?

From Protest Song to Holiday Tradition

Here’s the thing—Alice’s Restaurant isn’t just a quirky story. Beneath the humorous anecdotes is a biting protest against authority and the draft during the Vietnam War era. Guthrie delivers the message in a way only he can—with wit and absurdity, making it palatable for a wider audience.

Over time, radio stations picked up the song, giving it an annual play every Thanksgiving. Why? It feels both personal and universal, just like the holiday itself. Folks across America can relate to tackling bureaucracy, laughing at how surreal the world can be, and gathering to hear an iconic story that never fails to entertain. If you love a deeper dive into its impact, this Wikipedia article on Alice’s Restaurant tells the full story behind its creation.

The Role of Arlo Guthrie

Guthrie himself seems baffled, yet amused, at how his song became a holiday tradition. And honestly, isn’t this how all the best traditions start? Randomly and organically? He once performed this song to commemorate its 50th anniversary, reinforcing its place in Thanksgiving lore. It wasn’t just a performance; it was a celebration of the cultural touchstone that it’s become. You can read more about Guthrie’s reflections on the song here on Vox.

A Song With a Sense of Community

Thanksgiving is, if nothing else, about togetherness. When Guthrie sings about Alice’s dinner that “couldn’t be beat,” it paints a picture of warmth and laughter. It’s a vibe everyone wants to replicate at their own table.

This sense of community extends to those moments when families or friends gather by the radio or streaming app to listen to Guthrie’s song. It’s not just a track; it’s a ritual. Even the repeated act of listening connects you to others doing the same—people you may never meet, yet you share a quirky, unspoken bond.

Why It Still Resonates

While some Thanksgiving traditions wane over time, this one seems to endure. Its continued relevance likely comes from its ability to remain both timely and timeless. At its core, it’s a story of standing up to authority, finding humor in adversity, and finding joy in community—all themes that strike a chord no matter the decade.

If you’ve never experienced the magic of this quirky tale, make this the year to start. Listening to Alice’s Restaurant might just become your favorite Thanksgiving tradition. Stories like this remind us of the power songs have to create moments that last a lifetime.

Alice Brock

Arlo Guthrie recently announced that Alice Brock, who was the subject of his song, recently passed away. On Facebook Guthrie posted “Alice Brock (THE Alice) has passed away at 83. She wasn’t in great health so it wasn’t unexpected, however it’s still pretty challenging. Alice and I spoke just a couple weeks before she left us. She died on Thursday, November 20, 2024 on Cape Cod where she grew up. We’d been friends for a very long time, both trying to make the best of circumstances beyond our control.“

Final Thoughts

Thanksgiving is as much about nostalgia as it is about the present, and Alice’s Restaurant taps into that beautifully. Whether you’ll celebrate it with turkey, tofu, or an Alice-approved meal “that can’t be beat,” take a moment to appreciate the quirks and connections in your own traditions. And, if you can, give this whimsical, iconic song a listen. Who knows? Next year, it might feel like the mashed potatoes your Thanksgiving table wasn’t complete without.

If you’re curious about Thanksgiving traditions or history, more resources like this Library of Congress article might pique your interest. So here’s to songs, stories, and the shared moments that bring this holiday to life. Happy Thanksgiving!

By Paul Whatley | COMO News and Radio

[yourhero404]

Katsuki’s Birthday (4/20/19)

A/N: TECHNICALLY I’M ONLY LIKE, TWO HOURS LATE TO THE PARTY (it’s uh almost 1am as I post this) BUT EVERY DAY IS A GOOD DAY TO LOVE AND APPRECIATE BAKUGO KATSUKI

Idk why I made this shit sad and I also dunno why I can’t hold onto a plot line but I’ve been exhausted and I just couldn’t let myself NOT do anything for his birthday so here, have this anyway

Villain!Reader and ProHero!Bakugo? You betcha. Hell yes. It’s honestly one of my favourite ideas and I really hope I can write more some time ;u;

Why was today so fucking busy?

Bakugo was never one to fuss about a birthday, especially his own, but the amount of work he’s got on his plate today was massive compared to the usual and he was beyond ready to just go home. A villain here, a theft there—aren't there other heroes working? Ridiculous. What made it worse was the fact that no one seemed to remember that his birthday had been today; He was happy because it meant there was no large, over the top party waiting for him, but some part of him actually felt... lonely.

He stood amongst the wreckage of a, luckily, abandoned warehouse, sweeping the building one last time to make sure he and the police arrested everyone involved in the bust. Very faintly, a creak came from broken boards of the exposed second floor above his head, causing his attention to snap to the silhouette leaning against the wall.

“Oh, Explode-a-boy,” the voice drawled from the clearer image of (Y/n), “Lookin’ a little worn out there.”

“Fuck off,” He spat, “Either come down here and get the ass kicking that’s coming to you or get lost. I’m not in the mood to deal with you.”

“Woah,” they took liberty of their sarcastic cat’s meow and hopped down to the space in front of him, “Those pants got your panties in a bunch today?”

“Didn’t I tell you to fuck off?”

His lips turned up to a snarl, a few medium explosions coming from his palm to serve as a warning for the villain in front of him to back off. They gave him a smile and threw their hands up as a sign of surrender before gesturing for him to relax.  

The curve of their lips was unsettling—something about it pissed him off; It wasn’t smug or dark, but... genuine. That’s what pissed him off—how genuine this villain always was amongst their attitude, it was... human. They fought every time they came together, but it never seemed to end in a win or a loss, just a smile from them as they left—it felt like the damn training sessions he’d gone through in school. This villain was an odd one, and they left and even more odd feeling in his chest with each interaction.

“Okay okay, I can see you’re having a rough kinda day,” they offered their apology with a bow that held a large flourish, lightly making their way backwards towards their exit, “I just wanted to tell you about a little surprise I have for you-”

“What surprise?” He cut them off, his entire form dripping with irritation, “If you’re looking for a fight-”

“God, shut up for five seconds, big head.” They curled their lip to a snarl that rivaled his own, “Since you’re beyond rude, I won’t tell you now.”

“Tell me.”

“Not happening!” They turned quickly and made their way far out of his reach, throwing one last smile over their shoulder, “You’ll just have to wait for it!”

“Great,” he murmured to himself, “Just what I needed. More fucking work to do today.”  

The rest of his day was just as hectic, the stress he held in his shoulders over the idea that some large-scale attack by (Y/n) could happen at any moment did nothing to help his mood, either. Not one ‘happy birthday’ text, not one second glance his way—everything was bland and mundane. Is this truly what it was like to be an adult? It was a shitty sort of life to lead, especially since he’d been dreaming of this heroic sort of world since he could remember. The only thing he looked forward to now was the shower that was calling his name, but he couldn’t have that either, it seemed.

All it took was a small crack of his front door to allow the smell of food to hit his face. Food? There shouldn’t be any smell of food; Now on high alert, he threw the door open quickly and held his hand ready for any sort of attack—only to be met with an empty room.  

On the counter in his small kitchen sat a plate—a warm plate, actually, there was an abundance of steam coming off of the spicy curry that sat on it. Someone had to of just left it there moments ago, but who? The small, handwritten note beside it gave him his answer—and for some reason, it didn’t cause him any worry like it should have.

‘Nice place, Explodokill. You really should clean your fridge up, though—you really do live like a single dude. I told you I had a surprise for you, didn’t I? Figured you were too tired to do it yourself, so I made you something.’

He eyed the food sitting on the counter before a small arrow on the bottom of the note caught his eye, and he turned it over to find the continuing message.

‘NO, I didn’t poison the food. Killing you like that would be too easy, I want you to go out in some big, extravagant fight. Basically, it’s safe. Check the fridge when you’re done.’

Too tired to really argue with that logic, Bakugo cautiously took a bite, not really knowing why, but mostly trusting the food. It smelt divine—extra spicy and had some sort of twist to it, one he couldn’t put his finger on but knew he hadn’t had homecooked dinner that good in a while. Ignoring any sort of logic to be wary of their intentions, he checked the fridge as they had suggested and found a small, home-baked cake waiting for him as well. It was lopsided, frosted hastily, and held a coloured message with an equally lopsided smiley face-- ‘Congrats, you’re old’. He couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh—it shook his entire body until tears formed in his eyes; Just who was this person? What sort of evil villain breaks into a hero's home to cook them dinner and bake them a cake? What villain would go out of their way to do something so nice to their enemy? Bakugo always knew they were never a typical villain—maybe that’s why he somehow ended up fond of them, not that he’d admit it to anyone.  

He ate his cake- it tasted good despite its appearance- in a deafening silence, only now truly realizing how lonely he had felt today. Dragging it along, he made the cake made for one last as long as possible to keep him busy, once it was gone, he’d fall further into the realization he was alone. With heavy sighs out of the way, he silently promised himself he’d wash the used dishes later and pushed past his bedroom door to find a small box sitting on his open window sill.  

Knowing who it was from immediately, he unwrapped it- not too rough just in case they had some sort of joke to pull, but not too soft either- to find something shiny inside. On a metal chain sat a thin silver grenade-shaped pendant that resembled the gauntlets he wore with his costume, the iconic ‘X’ from his shirt engraved across it. He couldn’t stop the smallest smile from gracing his lips, only for it to drop in shock as he felt some sort of engraving on the back of it.  

‘#1 Hero- King Explosion Murder’

Bakugo swallowed hard, irritated at how easily something like this had brought tears to his eyes. He was getting emotional over a necklace he received as a gift from a villain—a villain! Yet, they had listened to him each and every time they had spoken during their fights, paid attention to each little detail of their interactions, and took the time to get him something so heartfelt. It was stupid, he knew, to develop feelings for a villain, especially one considered to be your nemesis, but how could he stop himself from falling now that they had done all of this, when no one else had even bothered to remember? Maybe they weren’t a villain by choice but by necessity—they certainly were kind at heart, and it made his own feel as though it were going to jump out of his chest at the thought of them. He had a lot to think about, all of which held (Y/n) as the main topic.

Light footsteps hopped down from his window sill, very cautiously making their way in front of him. They stopped at a careful distance, ensuring an easy getaway should he decide to attack, but he hadn’t even looked up at them. He sat at the edge of his bed, allowing them to walk just a few steps forward to make up the distance, sitting in silence for a few more moments as he clutched his newest prized possession.  

They made a move to say something, but were caught off guard at the grip he held on their wrist—before they could react, he pulled them close and wrapped his arms around their waist tightly, hiding his face against their abdomen. A few moments of realization were all it took before they gave him a gentle reaction, lightly combing his tangled hair with their fingers and laying their other hand on the back of his neck in reassurance. Normally, they would take the opportunity to tug on his nerves, piss him off, make him break—but they only smiled sadly to themselves as they barely caught the sniffling and hiccups that came from the blonde wrapped around them. Falling for a hero was the stupidest thing they could have ever done, but seeing just how soft the explosive man could be in times like this made every interaction they’ve had worth it.

(Y/n) consoled him as well as grieved for their own feelings, knowing just how vastly different their worlds were, and silently accepting they’d be destined for a road of destruction, but for the moment, just this one moment, maybe the two of them could be happy. They felt his arms pull them closer as they spoke softly, making the moment between them as personal as it could be—no hero, no villain, just human.

“Happy Birthday, Katsuki.”

[captain-mjolnir]

Dating Ruby Rose

Word Count: 627

Warnings: Mentions of sex

A/N: Sorry I’ve been so inactive guys! I’ve been super busy with exams and work! I’ve really enjoyed writing this one so let me know if you want a part two or anything else about Ruby!

Masterlist

- Ruby asking you out on a date first - She’d be so smooth going about it too, like she knew you were going to say yes even before she asked - I mean of course you would though (who wouldn’t ammiright) - Sit down, fancy meals have never really been on your date agenda - You’d both love odd, quirky dates that you’d never forget and leave you with the best stories to tell - You’d first kiss in the most mundane situation though - Probably while you’re cuddling on the sofa watching movies and she’d just out of the blue turn your face to meet hers and kiss you - After this first kiss she’d be on you all the time for kisses (which you happily oblige too) - Taking your sweet time becoming official - She’d ask you to become her girlfriend exclusively after somebody hitting on you in front of her - She’d get so jealous and then worried that you’d leave her for somebody else if she didn’t ask you soon so she’d blurt it out in front of that somebody who was hitting on you - She’d be met with a kiss larger than life as a confirmation - Facetiming constantly when she’s away filming, as often as was humanly possible - You’d ask her so many questions about set life, how her colleagues were and about any stunts she’d have to do - You’d be particularly worried about the stunts, anything could go wrong - She’d spend hours if necessary explaining why it was completely safe going into full depth about any safety measurements that were put in place just to ease your mind - She’d ask you all about home, how all your friends were doing, all your family, even asking if anything has changed at your favourite bar - You’d both tell eachother just how much you missed each other, some tears may have been shed, okay, maybe more than some - Airport reunions would be frequent - Heavy teeth clashing kisses would be shared as if it were just the two of you and the rest of the airport wasn’t staring - R E U N I O N S E X - This would be so romantic but slightly rushed and last all evening, both of you savouring the touch of each other after being deprived for weeks, sometimes months - Moving in with each other after one particularly long filming break as neither of you could stand being without the other any more - Apartment hunting together would be so much fun, you’d do it so frequently it didn’t take you long to find one you both liked - IKEA trips for days - Getting a dog together almost as soon as you’d settled in - ‘To keep you company while I’m gone’ she’d insist, although you both know that’s not completely true - Ruby would have all the pet names for you - Some would be a one time use but others would stick around - Babe would be one she used more than your actual name, not that you’d mind - Going public would be a big deal for the both of you - Multiple people had got pictures of the two of you together holding hand or kissing - You both decided that confirming your relationship would be better than letting rumours and speculations continue - Ruby would post a picture of the two of you doing something stupid followed by a heartfelt message telling everyone who you were, asking them to be positive only, for no negative comments and informing them about how happy she is - Of course despite her asking there were some haters but the two of you ignored those comments focusing on the positive ones only - After this you two would instantly become an iconic couple shipped by almost everybody - Being that couple that was so in love and supported by everybody

[sheepdogdg-blog]

Some days are best described as surreal.

Certainly, living in 2020 we can say that a lot, but there was a day not long ago that seemed like it would be the enduring surreal experience of a lifetime.

One bright and sunny January morning in Los Angeles, only a couple of miles from a certain star on Hollywood Boulevard, just over two hundred and fifty men, women, children, babies — and one dog — sat in a small studio parking lot. These were not normal people. Oh no. These intrepid souls were of a very weird ilk, and each one of them was there to prove themself passionately so.

I was among them, you see, so I know a little bit of how we all felt on that day.

THE DAY THE MIRTH STOOD STILL

  First, let me begin by saying I do not own the content of the pictures in this story. The majority of them are from two incredible articles by New York Times Magazine (this one and this one), and I would highly encourage anyone who wishes to learn more to show the journalist and photographer the love they deserve. I also don’t mean to suggest I actually know how every participant on that day felt; this is merely my personal account.

Okay. Now that we’re done with the gratuitous exposition, let’s get back to our regularly scheduled program.

The casting call was put out at the end of December. This was to be a once-in-a-lifetime photoshoot with a living legend, an icon, the ingenious prince of parody, known to the world as “Weird Al” Yankovic. Word was, Al was going to be photographed with three hundred warriors willing to stand in the breach while wearing “vanilla 80s Al” costumes.

Now diehard fans (and Paul Rudd on Halloween) already know what that means, but in case you don’t here is the recipe:

1 ‘Magnum P.I.’ Hawaiian shirt

1 jerry curl wig

1 pair of Jeffrey Dahmer glasses

1 porn ‘stache

1 pair of canvas top shoes (cost in 1984 – $20; current cost – $200)

1 unfailing sense of irony

Accordion, optional

Thousands responded, and just two short weeks later, hundreds of us were calling out of work and, in some cases, flying to California. I never dreamed I would get so lucky, but I was among the chosen few. I rushed up from my San Diego home. Destiny awaited.

Those of us in the fandom, having been sworn to secrecy, began to covertly contact one another with coded queries. “Are you – uh – going to the – uh- eagle landing?” I myself made plans with several dedicated luminaries I had met through mutual adoration of Al’s music (especially his originals, but the parodies are good too). I already knew his work appealed to a diverse group (of mainly white and nerdy) people, but nothing — not the concerts I have been to or the fan pages or the chance encounters while wearing merch — could prepare me for the pure spectacle.

There were accountants and real estate agents, flight attendants and grocery store clerks, comic book artists and reality TV editors, teachers and health care providers, police officers and criminals on the lam, all dressed as their hero. As we waited, we sang, danced, and played squeezeboxes of every shape, size, and color. When Al came, we stood and cheered, excited to see his excitement.

That was the moment I think we’ll all remember the most. He came out from the barn doors leading to the large white backdrop we’d all be standing with him on, and he thanked us for coming and making the day special for him.

Special for him.

There were two noteworthy people standing there with him. The first was his wife, Suzanne. She’s an accomplished person herself, a brilliant woman us fans are thrilled Al managed to marry. She’s a former television executive, responsible for putting many of your favorite shows on the air. Her photography is fantastic, and I’m very proud to have one of her pieces hanging on my wall. I, like many other Weird Al fans, am also a fan of her work.

The second person of note was Nina, their daughter. She seems to be equal parts Al and Suzanne, a brilliant mind with a large heart, passionate about the environment and a shy participant in her father’s legacy. Those of us who love Al simply can’t wait to see the woman she someday will become. Great things are in her future, to be sure.

The best part, possibly of the whole day, was seeing Nina dressed up like daddy. She would be posing with the rest of us.

  We stood in relative silence. We were a crowd of respectful people, unwilling to disrupt the project. Not that it was a somber shoot. We laughed a lot. Our photographer was great! Hilarious and visionary. He was laughing along with everyone else at the absurdity of a horde of Weird Als standing in ranks like Terracotta soldiers, all smiling for the birdie.

This was not a man of little experience. Art Streiber is an award-winning photographer who’s snapped off shots of — well, everyone! Just check out this slideshow.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

My own personal experience may have differed from that of the others, but I’d like to take a few moments to write them for posterity’s sake.

First, I was fortunate enough to be placed in a memorable position for the shot. I got to hold one of the “weird” signs, and they even let me keep it. When the work was done, Al stayed and (reluctantly, perhaps) said hello to the whole mob. Yes, I am the very proud owner of a signed sign.

I would also like future generations to know that while directing the crowd to get into its ideal configuration, Mr. Speigel kept comically referring to me as Santa Claus. “Santa Claus,” he would say, “hide more of your face behind that sign.”

This one is for my own ego, but something I said made the whole group laugh, including Art — and I hope Al, but I couldn’t see his face. It was something I said intending to be funny, which is a bonus, because no one likes those incidental instances where everyone laughs at you. It may not have been groundbreaking, but it was good enough for the guy standing behind to pat me on the back.

Art: “Can you lift the dog higher. I want to see more of her face.”

Me: “That’s not a dog. That’s my wife.”

You probably had to be there, and I wish you had been. Especially if you’re a “Weird Al” fan. It was a great way to spend a day.

As I’ve said in previous posts, the Yankovic community is a good bunch of people, and I enjoy spending time with them. On this particular day, I got to meet a lot of great people. A big group of us went out afterward to the Farmer’s Market, where we shared our thoughts on Al’s legacy, some of us still greased up with Groucho-esque mustaches. We still keep in touch, sending each other funny memes or heartfelt messages of acceptance.

To anyone at that shoot or any other fan of “Fat,” I’m extending an open invitation. If you chance upon me at a show, say hello. After all, in a way doing so is like spending time with Al himself, because as the pictures prove, we’ve all got a little bit of his weirdness in us.

  On a final note, I’d like to say something a bit personal.

First of all, thank you to the team who put this together. Thank you for including me. A special thanks to the participants who turned what could have otherwise been a dull block of hours waiting into something truly memorable. And thank you to Al himself for inspiring our passion.

On a day when I was notified I would be put on furlough from work. . . On a day when my sister, who is a nurse, was tested for Covid-19. . . On a day when she informed me of three infants at her hospital whose deaths were supsected to have been caused by the virus. . . On a day when Facebook totally changed their layout to something annoying. . . It is truly a comfort to have pictures like these to look upon and smile at the memory of.

  270 Maniacs – My Lame Claim to Fame Some days are best described as surreal. Certainly, living in 2020 we can say that a lot, but there was a day not long ago that seemed like it would be the enduring surreal experience of a lifetime.

[unbearablylight]

Hi! I loved your AHS: Cult post, you summed up a lot of the thoughts I had on the wasted potential this season's premise has. I was just wondering what your thoughts were on the previous seasons? I find them to be really hit or miss in terms of tackling social themes and just storytelling overall and I would love to hear your thoughts! :)

Thank you! I liked your addendum, too; I hadn’t heard Adina Porter was coming back so I’m interested to see what she’ll add. And yeah, I agree a lot of it tends to be really hit or miss. I’m going to try to make this as brief as possible, because otherwise I could write an entire thesis on AHS and that’s probably too long for right now.

The best way to do it is to probably give my ranking of seasons and a short reasoning as to why. So, here goes:

1. Murder House

Granted it’s been a while since I’ve watched this season, but from what I remember it wasn’t really trying to be anything other than a really terrifying show. And it was great at that. The plot is sometimes a little confusing or nonexistent, but it terrifies in a way that no other season has really done to me since. There doesn’t seem to be much of a message or tie in to social themes, besides possibly Jamie Brewer playing such a large and beloved character. Ryan Murphy often has really great concepts for TV shows that then fade out over time, but since this is the first season, it was fun and exciting and something new on television.

2. Hotel

For a while, I’ve been debating whether or not Hotel beat out Asylum, but as I’m writing this I feel like it did, so I’m putting it second. This is largely based on personal opinion more than anything. Hotel felt like a rebirth for the show. It was creepy and twisted, had a decent plot and characters you could root for, and was actually scary where Coven and Freak Show hadn’t really been. I think the addition of Lady Gaga was an excellent one, and she was used just the perfect amount. I had feared she would become Jessica Lange’s replacement, and I think a lot of the downfall of Coven and Freak Show stems from too much of a focus on Lange, but Gaga was merely another member of the ensemble cast.

While I didn’t care much for Wes Bentley’s character, I loved the whole Ten Commandments murder thing (really anything that twists biblical stuff is fascinating to me for some reason). Denis O’Hare worried me at first, but I think the show did a good job at telling a heartfelt, honest story about Liz’s relationship with her son towards the later part of the season. I only wish they had cast an actual transgender actress. Again, I think what you said in your addition to the Cult post is right: AHS is better when social themes are pieces of the show, not entire concepts. This is another one that just seems to want to tell a story.

3. Asylum

The reason I rank Asylum lower is I really could not get into Sarah Paulson’s character for some reason, which sucked because she was most of the focus. I feel like I should go back and rewatch this season now that I love her as an actress, because when I originally watched it she drove me nuts. Other than that, I think it’s about equal with Hotel — decent plot (I think the story derails mostly with the aliens because, like, what?), a medium amount of scary, some good characters. Sarah playing a lesbian at first seemed out of place to me, but when it landed her in the Asylum I understood why they did it. Evan being in an interracial relationship kinda pricked me though. Ryan Murphy seems to have this weird thing for doing something mildly taboo (usually in a sort of socially forward-thinking way) and feeling edgy for it. “It’s the 60s and he’s with a black girl, gasp!” It didn’t really tie into anything with the plot, and the girl hardly appears throughout the season, so it felt like nothing more than a pat on the back for making a statement.

It does have one of the best opening credit sequences, though.

4. Roanoke

Roanoke had the benefit of being really goddamn scary a lot of the time, but the plot was an utter nightmare of writing. One show within a show was already kind of annoying, two was getting ridiculous. By the end we had like 6 and I just wanted it to be over with.

I honestly don’t remember a lot of what was going on, other than they were a bunch of idiots trapped in Murder House Part 2. I know you mentioned Adina and the racial subtext she faced throughout the season, but this would have been a lot more effective if she hadn’t been like... the actual worst. Being unfairly criminalized and vilified for killing her husband would have been far more effective if she hadn’t actually done it. I really just kind of hated her by the end and was furious she was the one that got to survive (although the very ending of the show makes it clear as to why it has to be her).

And speaking of surviving, Sarah Paulson should have walked away from all of this. She survives the entire night, only to get gunned down by a bunch of police officers. Which, just... it doesn’t make sense? She’s a white woman who appears to be in distress. If anything, I was surprised Adina wasn’t shot. It would have been terrible, but she was a black woman who already was widely disliked and who might have killed an entire house full of people (from the cops’ perspective, not knowing the truth of Roanoke). That whole scene just felt very weird and out of touch with reality to me, idk. I’m tired of seeing cops shoot first and ask questions later, so basically that scene just shouldn’t have happened at all. There are a hundred other ways Sarah could have died.

5. Freak Show

I am probably the only person I know who ranks Freak Show anywhere other than last, but I’ll get to why when I get to Coven.

It’s not good. We all know that. It wasn’t scary, the plot’s all over the place and uninteresting, and the amount of potential it had made it a real let down. It does have some saving graces, though. Murphy has experience with this sort of “god help the outcasts” narrative from Glee. Jessica Lange is a slightly more interesting character than she was in Coven, albeit they’re far too similar, Evan Peters is actually a person, and Sarah Paulson delivers one of (two of?) her best performances in my opinion.

The major downfalls: I did not care about Kathy Bates at all (tbh, I don’t think she’s had a good character yet, except maybe the Butcher). The last episode where they just shoot everyone dead was a major copout. There are far more interesting ways to end a show, or even to kill a large portion of the cast. Emma Roberts suffers the second most brutal death in AHS history, trapped in a box and sawed in half by Neil Patrick Harris. I don’t know what it is about this show, but it loves to see Emma suffer at the complete mercy of a man.

Also, it was just really boring.

6. Coven

Oh, Coven. Where to even begin with you. This post has already gotten really long so I’ll try to condense as much as I can, but just know I could probably write a novel on why Coven is The Worst. And I think at the foundation of that is the fact that a large portion (maybe even the majority?) of the fandom considers it to be the best, if not up there. Which is just really harmful.

You take a season full of really incredible actresses. Like there are a lot of them, many of them very well-known and highly acclaimed. You stick them all in a house together, in a pseudo-sorority type of situation. What you should get is one of the strongest arguments for how women can lead a show and hold their own without men.

Instead, what we got was Coven. In which every female character is poorly written, exists solely for a man, and/or is there to compete with (and often be bitchy to) the other women.

A bulleted list of further atrocities (because there are too many):

Emma Roberts suffering the most brutal death in AHS history. Watching her get choked out by Evan on that bed for like a full minute (despite the fact that she was a powerful witch who could have killed him in a nanosecond) disturbed me to no end, especially given their history.

Kathy Bates suffering from Murphy’s Law of No Character Development (patent pending). Ryan Murphy sucks at sticking to character development. Bates could have been a really powerful tool to show that ignorance often is the root of hatred, and her relationship with Gabourey Sidibe could have caused a change of heart, but one episode she was actually learning, and the next she was back to her shitty racist old self again.

Gabourey Sidibe playing the Race Card. And I don’t take that term lightly. I mean she literally said “You don’t like me ‘cause I’m black,” when a) no one had expressed any disdain to her at all (outside of Emma Roberts’ general bitching to all of them), and b) her weight probably got more comments than her race had. This line literally sounded like something written by a white dude who probably thinks reverse racism is real.

The race politics were a mess in general, tbh. Especially concerning their different uses of magic.

Lily Rabe dying??? For no reason??? Rude more than anything else.

Jessica Lange syndrome started to take over the show in this season, and this was her worst character. She shouldn’t have been so much of a focus.

The only good things to happen this season were Jessica and Angela taking out those business men (iconic, but from what I can tell — because I don’t remember exactly — the Axeman does most of the killing for them), the Coven chasing out the Axeman, and Sarah becoming the supreme (which I had unfortunately guessed like 3 episodes in, so it wasn’t that much of a mystery).

Anyways, Coven is pretty much a catalogue of the worst parts of Ryan Murphy’s writing, and there’s probably a lot I’m missing, but this is enough for now.

Sorry this is so long, yikes. But that about wraps it up I think. Honestly if you read all of this, congrats haha. And thanks for asking! I love to rant about tv (obviously).

[moosterrecords]

JOHN LYDON

TO RELEASE

'MR ROTTEN'S SONGBOOK'

--CELEBRATING 40 YEARS OF SONGWRITING ACROSS THE SEX PISTOLS AND PUBLIC IMAGE LTD (PiL)--

MARCH 31, 2017

  Photo credit: © Paul Heartfield 2012.

In celebration of 40 years of songwriting across both the SEX PISTOLS and PUBLIC IMAGE LTD (PiL) eras, JOHN LYDON is delighted to announce the personal and truly exclusive publication of MR ROTTEN'S SONGBOOK. Due out March 31, 2017 and limited to 1000 copies, MR ROTTEN'S SONGBOOK is available to pre-order now via: https://mrrottenssongbook.concertlive.com. ***See the Q&A with JOHN LYDON below.

Presented in glorious, luxury large format (370x290mm portrait), MR ROTTEN'S SONGBOOK features never before seen artwork as well as annotated song lyric sheets spanning LYDON's entire career all written in his own hand. As the book unfolds, each album is featured with an exclusive introduction to the songs from JOHN as well as the original cover and hand-drawn artwork from LYDON to beautifully bind the lyrics to their meanings. MR ROTTEN'S SONGBOOK gives fresh insight into the purpose behind the words that have shaped over four decades of his songwriting career. Every one of the book's three-hundred, handcrafted pages reflect JOHN working night and day over the final six months of 2016. Each book is hand signed by the man himself and individually numbered.

   MR ROTTEN'S SONGBOOK: Cover and original artwork by John Lydon. 

Always outspoken, controversial and sincere, JOHN LYDON, formerly Johnny Rotten of the Sex Pistols and then lead singer in Public Image Ltd (PiL),John Lydon has secured a prime position as one of the most recognizable icons in the annals of music history. As Johnny Rotten, he was the lead singer of the Sex Pistols--the world's most notorious band--who shot to fame in the mid-1970s with singles such as 'Anarchy in the UK' and 'God Save the Queen.' So revolutionary was his influence, he was even discussed in the Houses of Parliament, under the Traitors and Treasons Act, which still carries the death penalty. Via his music and invective, he spearheaded a generation of young people across the world who were clamoring for change--and found it in the style and attitude of this most unlikely figurehead. With his next band, Public Image Ltd (PiL), Lydon expressed an equally urgent impulse in his make-up--the constant need to reinvent himself, to keep moving. From their beginnings in 1978, he set the groundbreaking template for a band that continues to challenge and thrive in the 2010s. He also found time to collaborate on new dance records with the likes of Afrika Bambaataa and Leftfield. From his beginnings as a sickly child of immigrant Irish parents who grew up in post-war London, to his present status as a vibrant, alternative national hero, Lydon has remained a compelling and dynamic figure--both as a musician, and, thanks to his outspoken, controversial, yet always heartfelt and honest statements, as a cultural commentator.

Q&A with JOHN LYDON:

What led to the creation of MR ROTTEN'S SONGBOOK?

I've written many songs over the years and I've always wanted to combine it all in one picturesque way. When I write songs, I think in pictures so it's the most appropriate thing I could do and looking at all the images together led to MR ROTTEN'S SONGBOOK.

In your recent biography, Anger Is An Energy, you mention that "words count" versus just "throwing around bricks as the voice of rebellion." Can you talk about this a bit?

Comedy is the root to the truth. If you take a thing too seriously, you kind of miss the point of what human nature really is. It's a hilarious romp through existence.  You can learn a lot, firstly, by learning to laugh at yourself. Only then, can you begin to laugh at others and this is why when I draw and paint, I like to do it a cartoon-y way because I think it opens up the personality of the entire event--rather than some serious still-life which says nothing and gets us no-where... 

Is there any piece of artwork in the book that is standing out to you or surprised you?

On most of the pieces, I don't sit down with a specific idea other than the actual songs. I'm quite amazed at what comes out of me. But the character on the front of the book, he's the biggest surprise of all because I was thinking how can I encapsulate what this book is supposed to unravel to the reader? That character just appeared on the page. I don't know what makes me draw these things.

                                                                                        What comes first? Art or music?

I just love drawing. I love the scratch of the pen on the page and the characters come out of that. To be fair to myself, that's what goes on in my head daily, all the time, 24/7. Every now and again, I manage to draw it onto paper. I use oils, pencil, and sometimes I just cut up bits of magazines and use different colors and blend them. Any medium suites me, but the more risky, the better and the more difficult the work involved, the more I enjoy it. This book was very hard to put together--getting the details to be absolutely perfect. Writing out the words, you might think that's easy. Bloody hell, if you don't know the song, no one does. When you're actually writing it, it's amazing how confused you could become inside your own songs. It's that Robin Williams in me that keeps going off into other subjects. I keep ping-pong ball around ideas and things ending up very, very confused. I had to learn how to focus which strangely enough I haven't done up until now. I gave myself the task and I had to stand by it.

Is the art process similar to writing songs?

Yes, but songwriting is a thought process that goes on for months, sometimes even years. Suddenly, while I'm drinking a cup of tea or eating baked beans, I'll just sit down and quickly write it out. It's almost like not thinking and it's like it's already been processed for me. Songwriting is like me explaining myself to me. I'm still in there as the confused little boy stuck in the hospital not knowing who he was from age 7 to 8. I didn't really know who I was until around 11 since all the memories returned very slowly. So there it is. While you're guessing who you are, this is what you're creating inside your head. I've been given a golden opportunity through music which I never planned on--it happened incidentally and that's when all the pieces started to fall into place. Now I'm looking at it at it like a big jigsaw puzzle of my life and slowly, but surely making it clear, not only to me but, to others. There's no evil intent in me at all...of course I could be lying.

What would you like people to take away from this book? Is there an overarching theme as a whole?

Well, if it's in the library, please don't take it away without returning it. I've been in the public spotlight since the 70s, that's a lot of pressure, but I've been able to cope with it and still maintain some kind of integrity. That's what I'm trying to get across here. You may be very confused, but as I say it's all little pieces of the jigsaw puzzle that I've haven't been able to put together myself, yet. But then again I don't know anyone who has walked into my life at any point absolutely picture-perfect. So I'm on the same trial as everybody else but I, at least, have found a way of expressing it. 

Do you feel that writing songs comes easier than creating art? 

No, it's just the same thing. Except, I'm very wary of the word "art" because the idea of interpreting thought into imagery has been corrupted so much. Even the title "Famous Artist" just comes on with some horrendous fake snobbery and institutional-ism.  To put it simply, I look at the Sistine Chapel and wonder why they've all got little willies. Even the censorship in that is rampant, so everything is still being controlled and that's no good to any of us. 

So art and music for you is the ultimate form of free expression?

Yeah, no boundaries, no rules, no regulations. Do as thy will because you're not doing any of it to hurt anybody. For me, a much more appropriate world would be one of complete open-mindedness. I don't care what language the man next to me uses. A clear message is what I want in life, transparency. I look into the thoughts behind the process, so I can write songs and now I discover that I can draw. I'm not making any issue out of it, but it's damn rewarding. I'll probably be publicly condemned.

What made you decide now is the right time to share the songbook?

Well, if you're gonna go to trial you might as well tell everyone! That would be the philosophy. 

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