#with jack black’s presence and the production looking the way it does i’m calling this another video game cash grab a la mario movie

[khadgarbignaturals]

live action has become the death of cinema jfc

[mimithings97]

Heartache (M)

Summary: You didn’t know such a feeling was so real, so vivid, so hurtful. But it had happened and happened to you before you could stop it. Tae had become written into your life hard and fast, so when you leave you question that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t willing to unwrite him.

Pairing: Taehyung x Y/N

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Heartache for starters, Unprotected sex, Oral (male receiving), Swearing, Nude modelling, Taehyung’s a sappy mess, Mentions of Alcohol

Word Count: 6k

A/N: Can’t lie in saying how morbid it is that I enjoy writing angst. It’s light angst though and a lot lighter than how fucking whipped Tae is at the end. Much love for the bub though, so, enjoy x

Ahhh jungkook features as well forgot to mention. Still love him. Nothings changed there.

Heartache.

Cringy, you once thought to yourself. 

How could you be so dependent, so set and so immersed in something that your heart actually aches? 

It didn’t make sense to you until the day words were spoken that couldn’t be taken back, bags were reluctantly packed and more tears were shed than there is water in the Thames. Heartache was real, vivid and the hardest thing you have ever had to live through in your 24 years of life. 3 weeks of a deep set dropping in your stomach that couldn’t be shaken despite the booze intake, the occasional listening to his voicemails and the relentless tears.

Your mother told you that if you built up too many walls it would hurt so much more when someone knocked them down. You had told Taehyung this on the first date, your first date, ever, with any man. You had always drawn a line between pleasure and dependency, settling for short flings and the occasional online relationship (purely for the sexting) instead of the commitment and responsibility that weighed on vulnerable shoulders when you bear your entire self to another in a relationship. Taehyung knew this. But he fell and you fell harder. You fell completely and utterly under his spell for three years. 

And then he told you he wanted to marry you. Bastard didn’t even propose, just mentioned that one toxic word of marriage and you instantly laid the bricks of that wall he had so unceremoniously knocked down all those years ago.

It felt so adult yet so childish leaving someone over the concept of marriage, but when talks of marriage turn to talks of children and one party wants something completely different to the other, what kind of relationship is there to continue. 

So three weeks later, just as the physical pain of emptiness and heartache has begun ebbing away, the emotional trauma of your decision begins to cave in on you.

To Jungkook:

11:31pm

You: I know I said I’d stop this

You: But I really dont know if this is worth the pain

You: His mum sent me a get well soon card today bc he told her i was ill and that’s why i hadn’t visited

You: I’m never going to not love him

You: How does anyone get over this shit its not fair

11:35pm

Guk: Oh noona

Guk: It’ll take lots and lots of time and lots and lots of tubs of ice cream and wine but youre both adults who want different things and not everything is meant to be

Guk: Sacrifice for the greater good right

11:35pm

You: There’s no fucking greater good here

You: I hate this

11:37pm

Guk: Noona you know that down the road hyung wants children. I don’t think marriage was that big, but he’s always wanted to be a dad

Guk: It’s not fair of him to ask you to have something you don’t want but its also not fair to leave him without the thing he’s always desired the most

11:40pm

You: Its just too hard to take

You: It feels like three years for jack shit

11:41pm

Guk: If you’re really struggling that much, noona, talk to him. I know he wants to talk to you still, he’s tried to contact you everyday. Maybe it will give you some closure or just help you see what’s right

11:41pm

You: Love you

Your phone is down as soon as Jungkook mentioned talking to him. How could you take one step forward and a million steps back by talking to him? It would be like hanging just what you want right in front of you but no touching, no talking to them after that 5 minutes of hell, no seeing them ever again. Closure is what you need but never what you’ll want.

The sheets that surround you, nuzzled closely into your neck and still unwashed even after three weeks just to keep that tiny scent of Tae over you naked skin, warm you to the point your eyes drift. You don’t mean to fall asleep so easily, but when every little action weighs so heavy on you during the day, sleep comes too easily. However, so does the nightmares of crawling alone in the black abyss.

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

Resuming work was never easy on a broken soul, but alas, here you were, with three weeks of sick pay under your belt you’d rather not have and 20 children at your feet.

Ironic isn’t it.

You break up with the only man you’ve ever loved because you can’t face a future of settling down with children, yet you wake up at the fucking godforsaken hour of 6 am to tend to a bunch of five and six years olds every day. No, you didn’t hate children, but they weren’t the joy of your life either. You were good at your job and you had this mad psychological complex that if you could help a child at five or six like you had so desperately needed at that age, then maybe you’d make their life just that little bit easier and that little bit brighter. Taehyung always found your reason for working so admirable - fuck that look of pure adoration in his eyes when you told him - so he found it equally hard to come to terms with when you told him the opposite. When you told him you couldn’t have your own children because the responsibility scared you. His ears were ringing at the point where you told him you also didn’t want to share him and his kindness, even so, the damage had been done, whatever the reasoning.

“Y/N! Jennie said you were back,” it’s a tight smile from you and a loose hug, but it’s amazing you’ve managed that with the way your head is far from in the room let alone the conversation at hand. “God, I hope you’re better, you were out for a while.”

You squeeze a weak laugh out, “Yeh, it wasn’t all that fun.”

“For a second me and Jennie were thinking you might be pregnant.” The heartache subsides, rivalled by the very distinct feeling of sickness. The ball of energy in front of you persists in conversation, but it’s to drowned ears and for a second you think you’ll faint. 

You miss your name being called. Shit, you don’t even know where it’s coming from, because the all-consuming feeling of this tide of emotions has swept you far from your spot in the classroom. Marie in front of you still calls, asking if you’re okay, but it’s the tug on your skirt, not harsh, but enough to garner a reaction that casts your eyes down.

“Miss Y/N?”

It’s Jojo, eyes wide and glaring up at you, still clung to the material of your skirt.

“Miss Y/N, why are you crying?”

You instantly draw the back of your hand to your face and it catches a cascading tear, much to your shock. You face must morph into a mortified expression at the thought of so carelessly crying at work, in the presence of the kids you look after with a smile and a skip in your step each day.

“Miss Y/N, it’s okay to cry. You can draw with me if you feel crying…” he shakes his head, “sad. Sad I mean.”

You feel Marie’s hand on your back, but Jojo’s eyes sweep you into a frenzy of more tears before you find yourself kneeling on the floor by the table. His table, where he sits alone each day, with paper and paints, or pencils, or chalk, sometimes he just folds it and hands it to you saying he made his paper into a flower. He already has one of his drawings on the go but scribbled over it thoughtlessly before starting out on a series of words. ‘To miss Y/n’.  Your eyes well further, but his words stop you.

“I think sometimes that drawings can make you better. Can make better the sadness.”

---

“Tae are you still going at it?”

You peer around the corner of the door, leaning half in half out of his man cave to study your boyfriend at work. 5 hours he’d been couped up in there.

“Hmm.” 

He didn’t let you see his art until the product was finished, completely finished, because sometimes he’d say he was done and then go back when he’d found the smallest error only to get pissed off that you had witnessed anything other than the completed masterpiece.

“Tae, you’ve been in here for hours, just come out to help me cook.” You plead with him over the canvas, not daring to peak any further.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

He hasn’t looked at you since you came in, his brow well and truely glued into a furrow and the tea you’d brought him earlier cold and untouched beside him. You lower your tone into a more serious one.

“You okay?”

Silence.

“Done.” He doesn’t sound relieved or happy at the finalising of a five-hour art project like most would, like he normally does. He’s merely, ‘done’.

With an apprehensive tone, you ask, “Can I come see?” A gentle nod and you round the canvas, his arm dropping the brush in favour of tugging at the skin of your waist until you’re gently seated in his lap.

It’s beautiful and it’s simplistic and there’s so much life and emotion in it that you know the five hours weren’t all spent with brush to canvas but with him mulling over the memories and thoughts it conjured up.

“Your grandmother’s house?” Your voice is soft, not a pitying soft, but a soft that lets him know he can talk freely.

“Hmm,” he presses a kiss to the shoulder exposed by the shirt that hangs off you loosely. “Wanted to do something for her.”

You let the silence and the painting speak for itself for a while as his hands brush at your sides and you lean into his head that rest against you, chin to shoulder as his warm breath lulls you into calmness.

“You miss her?” 

“So much.”

“Painting makes it better?”

… another kiss and a sigh, warm.

“Mmm. Sometimes painting and drawing just makes the sadness a little easier, just makes it better.”

---

You see Tae in this tiny boy, this boy who draws to ease the sadness, who coups himself away on his table to be alone, too afraid to cry in front of the other boys and girls. Is he doing it too? Is he alone and painting? 

Then Jojo slides you his paper, wordlessly and your eyes with dried tears, prick once again, heartache replaced with something completely different, regret. And now hope. It’s those small boys words on paper, insignificant to him, and probably tiny in the grand scheme of things, but it’s his words that make you seek out for the one thing you know you can’t live without, the one thing that will heal your sadness.

‘To miss Y/N, i hope your crying gets better soon. Its okay to cry but its also good to make you happy. I hope you find your happy. From Jojo.”

You’d already found your happy, you just had to get him back.

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

“Y/N!?” 

And it merely takes your name for you to lose every word on your tongue. Any word you could’ve conjured at that moment couldn’t have described how you felt. He looks dishevelled, and beautiful, hair unwashed and falling into his eyes, white top littered with stains and his pyjamas bottoms you bought him for Christmas hanging off his hips. 

His eyes lull from their immediate shock before he turns to look at his apartment, running a frantic hand through his hair and stumbling on his words. 

“Shit. I- I mean. I wasn’t really thinking- I didn’t expect you.”

You probably shouldn’t have come. Some people would’ve turned and gone the other way. Maybe that was the right thing to do, was that the brave thing? Were you being a coward by rooting to the spot and not being able to speak a word?

He looks at you, then behind you somewhere, then back into your eyes and his gaze sinks so far into yours, you think you might just cry there and then.

“Dooo you want to come in?” He sounds apprehensive, he probably thinks you are too, but all you want to do is be back in his apartment just like three weeks ago, touching him, talking to him unhinged, perhaps feeling the skin beneath his shirt where his heart lies, feeling if his heart has ached as yours has.

With blinking eyes that try not to glaze over, you nod, short and curt, and you miss the puff of air his mouth rings out with relief. 

He dashes away once you’re past the threshold, scampering around as if to distract you from the surrounding environment - it’s dusty, too cold and dark with the way the curtains shut out summer light and you barely recognise his floor as wood with the way food scatters and clothes are strewn.  Small shards of light reflect from out of the study and your eyes naturally draw there only to find a mess, door open just enough for the hoard of half-finished painting and wasted canvas’ to come into view. The door is closed by Taehyung like he knew where your gaze would lead you.

“I-I’m fucking sorry about this, it’s gross and it’s messy and i-”

“It’s just like mine.” The corners of your mouth turn up sympathetically but also because you’re relieved he’s not okay. It’s awful to say but heartache has clearly done a job on him too and for that you’re relieved. “Don’t worry, it’s just fine.”

“Just fine,” he mutters under his breath with a half-laugh. 

You’re still stood stuck to the doormat, jacket hanging tightly to you like a defence mechanism and your hands remain tight to your sides. When his eyes find yours, you seize up further like it’s the first time he’d ever seen you.

---

You’d told Janice one too many times for this situation to be coincidence. You may or may not have told her you were a sucker for exhibitionism. She’d found it all shits and giggles until the art class she headed entered into ‘naked form’ week and it was too good of an opportunity to pass by. 

So the robe drops and you’re way too aware of the last time you shaved - you think you’d be prepared, but pair a hangover with a 7:30 start and bodily care wasn’t the first thought to come to mind.

Janice gives off a flow of instructions, pointing to your body like you were a cow on show, and telling the artists to ‘admire her form, the way her body dips and flows and let you brush or pencil do the responding as though her body was talking to you’ - you almost scoff aloud at her waffle because art is so full of shit.

Exhibitionism kink or not, you’re thirty minutes in and the way your hip cramps and you eyelids lower, there is nothing alluring or desirable about this. 

But then the door on the far wall swings open all too harshly for your eyes to feign jolting away. And they blow out further when they’re met with the masculine figure uttering apologies and skidding halfway from door to seat with his urgency.

‘Just women’ she said. ‘Nothing to be worried about,’ she said. It ruined the whole ‘i like being stared at by fit men’ at first but then put you a little at ease that some 70 year old man, trying to spice up his last years of life with a too expensive art course, wouldn’t be staring your tits down. 

Yet here you were, with a man with eyes too beautiful to be tarnished by the view in front of him, gazing in shock at your naked body.

“Mr. Kim, it’s nude form week. Guessing you didn’t get the email?”

You only have your imagination for what his voice must sound like because he only shakes his head, throat too dried and scorched from you laid out, baring it all in front of him for him to say anything.

But your imagination didn’t do justice in those two hours of torture. Because his voice telling you he’s ‘sorry for interrupting the session’ and even ‘sorrier for being so unworthy of staring at something so beautiful’. 

You’d always hated cringe. But cringe never sounded so good when it was spun off Taehyung’s silk tongue.

---

“Can I get you anything?” 

It’s him who breaks the silence, and it’s a godsend because you were two seconds away from spinning on your heel and cowering out of the entire thing.

“N-no. Thank you, Tae.” 

He groans at the timidity of how you say his name and nickname at that.

And silence soaks the atmosphere again, tenser this time because greetings have been uttered, drinks offered and there’s nothing more to say that unspoken words of the past.

That’s what you thought you were here to do at least. To tell him you’re sorry, first and foremost, because you’d never intend to break a soul as tender-hearted as his. Then you were supposed to tell him that you loved him, and you would always love him, and that sacrifice must be made for the greater good.

Jungkook had told you that once. But he’d said Taehyung must be the one sacrificed and you should be the one salvaged - until you realised there was no greater good in that situation, no salvation to be had.

“I’ll sacrifice myself,” words come out loud and unexpected as your train of thought is voiced. They’re too loud also, and they break the atmosphere to his shock, so his brow furrows like he doesn’t understand. “I- I will sacrifice myself for you.”

His face falls and you can’t bear the way his words stutter and his throat fills with a choked cry, as though he’d held it in as soon as your presence had hit him. It must have done the same to you because your body befalls you and tears and on the floor as you work your feet towards where he is rooted.

“I can’t ask that of you. You know I can’t do that,” he closes his eyes when your  body meets his, hands firm on his cheeks because they’re wet with tears and his shoulders are hunched in pain, “please.”

“Please.” You reciprocate. 

This is it for you. You’ll do anything for this quivering shell in front of you. You’ll plead. You’ll beg. You’ll give up your livelihood and every mantra you have ever told yourself about self-preservation because fuck it, some things are too good that you have to lose yourself in them. 

“You- I-”

“I’m- I might not be ready for kids now. I will though. If that’s what it takes. Fuck it I’ll marry you tomorrow.”

He chokes on a sob when his eyes meet your pleading ones and a quick hand wipes the stains from his cheeks so he can see every expression you give to him - untainted and full of love.

“We can take our time over this or we can have it all at once, but it has to be we. I’ll really do it for you, I have to Tae,” another sob and a whimper, “isn’t that what we’re here for. Kids.” You’re babbling now in a frenzied expression of all you have to give, and you’re so lost in his eyes that you laugh out, “‘be fruitiful and multiply or some shit.’ I’ll do it, I swear to you.”

“You’re not even Christian.”

“I would be if you told me to.”

“Fuck.”

He kisses you quick and without care, wanting to feel everything you have to give him like it’s what keeps his heart beating - and it’s beating fast because you finally find fingertips under his shirt and against the pounding that intensifies underneath.

He grapples at your hair, then waist, then hair again because his hands can’t decide on what he wants most. So you grab at them yourself and intertwine fingers as though he’d never left you. Each knuckle deserves a kiss and that’s what you give when your lips part.

“I’m so sorry-” you keep kissing across his hand, “I ever left,” and bring his hands to your neck, “never again.”

The tears subside in his eyes as they do yours. There is still relief, hot and painful inside your stomach because you have come back to him and he has taken you back, as if there were never to be anything but the two of you as one, yet now he finds your lips in something that claims more than just love. Possession. He has to know you’re his.

You were correct when you thought his room would be as sorrowful as yours - heartache as painful as what you had felt. 

Food containers stripe the floor dirty. Towels strewn and clothes dirty and forgotten. Again the blinds are closed as though you’re not here at 5 in the afternoon when the sun begins to fall into the red and purple hues of evening. 

But the blinds leave enough of a gap that his face is haloed, angelic and all too beautiful for your eyes to feign staring when your mouth departs his. Eyes glow amber and skin glows golden and you never want to look away, not from him, not now.

“You really want this don’t you.” There’s no question to the way Tae speaks. Instead, it’s disbelieving, like he can’t quite fathom that it’s really your shirt he has under his fingertips and your smell that lingers under his nose. Heartbreak had slowed his heart enough that it’s beating too fast for him to keep up with, so he slows it down.

“I really want this- You. I really want you.”

“And everything that comes with me? You’re sure?”

It’s a loaded question but at this point it is so light on your shoulders you laugh, grabbing and pulling up his shirt so you can sink lips to his chest, trying to find the beat of a heart somewhere there. 

“You act like you’re a chore, Tae.” You’re eyes soften when he still looks like you like he’s young and vulnerable. “Baby, I am so sorry I ever did this to you. Left. And made you feel like that.” 

Your hands map his skin delicately and you preserve how it feels because you hope, but never know, if you’ll feel it again.

“Never again, yeh?”

“Yeah.”

Clothes are shed until he looks at your naked body like the art that he first saw it as. He wants to paint it, remember it and cherish it as though he’s never seen it before. Every scar and blemish, precious to his vision, but the painting would only be worth it to him because he’s all who gets to see you.

“You’re not gonna turn off the lights?” 

Something that you’d told him was a habit of yours. Maybe something, a subconscious body image thing that was another way of saying, ‘I can’t give my whole self to you, I’m sorry’. He’d ran with it as though it didn’t hurt his pride. But now, as you push him down on his bed and clamber over his thighs, he’s so grateful he never got to see you in this light, because he loves it all the more now.

Fingertips tremble over your thighs when your hips find his, naked crotch so close to where he throbs. 

“Tae,” his eyes don’t meet yours, pieced, instead, onto where your bodies are so close to meeting like his gaze can fuse them together. “Tae, it’s me. Relax.”

Purposefully, your hands find his hair and coax him into a state of submissiveness, because his body still quaked underneath you no matter the words you uttered. 

You can’t lie when you say sex was a factor in your relationship you had missed. There was a heartfelt bond that went deeper than sex.

Admittedly the flatmate before Tae, the friends before the boyfriend and your parents who knew you better than you admitted to yourself had all said you were sex before substance. Some hated you for it and some laughed. Some said, ‘I wish I could be as emotionally detached as you’ and some thought you were the local gal whoring about like bodies were meant to be used. Then, somehow, Tae flipped the whole thing on its head. Made you feel butterflies before orgasm and it had you spellbound. 

So, no. Sex wasn’t it for you when you were with him. 

Yet, here you were, over your man gleaming with the physical sweat of want and need as well as the even more apparent glow of how his body lit up for only you.

“How do you want me Tae, what can I give you?”

“Fuck.” His hands fall over his eyes, not comprehending that you’re his and you’re this plaint. No, he wants you to take over him. “Anything, baby. Fuck. Anything.”

Instantly nails brush over the hardness that had been laid out under your folds obediently since you’d found yourself on top of his crotch.

A man could only control himself so much and immediately Tae found his dick twitching and his hips leaving the mattress in favour of chasing your hand.

“Y/N, I really don’t know if I’ve got it in me for teasing, I’m so horny I could cum!”

Well then.

The outburst has you struggling to fight off a laugh because he seriously is that desperate. Not the laughing kind either. The all-bearing, stripped clean and pleading kind of desperate.

So, you sympathise and let your lips find his, hand still trailing lightly so he doesn’t cum early, but enough for the need to remain.

“You wanna be inside me Tae?” His tongue is on yours yet the words are clear. 

“Urgh, fuck, please.”

Your eyes peer between your bodies, mapping where his muscles, tight with restrictions, create a V-shape down to the very distinct outline of a red hard cock. You think it’s photograph worthy in the moment, something worth slipping the camera out for, and if you hadn’t kept his dick pics from months ago maybe you would. But:

“Please baby, -need it.”

You deny yourself the simple pleasure of slipping him in because Tae whining and pleading is something worthy for the spank bank. You drop lower down the bed so his hips meet your eyes and the skin glistens so beautifully in this light you have to leave his dick untouched just so you can kiss around the area. 

His stomach, thighs, crotch, they see it all, lips and tongue mapping bold strokes because he tastes just as you remember and you want to savour it.

“Y/N ple- oh fuck,” and the taste of his dick beats anything that preceded it, let alone the noise that came with it. 

His tip is taken care of first, small licks and stripes with your tongue, so he’s unsuspecting when you choke him whole.

“FUCK.” 

Hands grab your hair violently. He’s deep and hits the back of your throat so you choke, unashamed of the noise. You’re past that and you know he likes it anyways. 

You set a rhythm, and it soon becomes clear he’s going to cum from it and that you very much want him to. Your hand finds his balls to fuel the process and the other one snakes to your core because there’s nothing that beats Tae’s moans when he’s getting a good sucking. 

“I- Fuck Y/N, I can’t- Shit!”

He’s close. Stomach seizing and balls throbbing in your palm so you sink back down again and take the choke like you want it and you want his cum more. It’s fast from there.

“Love you. I’m cum- Fuckkkkk,” salt and warmth line your throat, but only for a short while because he came quick. His hips stutter a few times and your eyes water when you continue to take it. 

Then it’s cold and silent. Yet somehow you feel buzzed. Like someone cumming down your throat was enjoyable. Like you’d do it a thousand times over if it meant he’d say he loved you again.

The hands that had once set deep into your scalp and verged on making you horny now pulled at your cheeks to lift you to eye level. 

He’s sweaty and a mess. 

“You’re sweaty and a mess baby.” 

His laugh is unfiltered, wholesome and worthy of the way your heart stutters.

“Because someone’s got a mouth on them sent from the gods.”

Blush overtakes your cheeks, whilst your stomach tumbles over at the fact that your blowjob skills are up to scratch - you thought a month off might have done something to your ability but clearly, you’re still on point. The bitter taste in your mouth tells you enough. 

“What’ve I done to deserve you coming back.”

Sincerity returns into his eyes as well as his words, and somehow you feel his dick twitch again from underneath you. He’s so soft under your hands so you keep feeling at his skin to reassure you he’s real.

“Nothing. You’re enough. You’re it.”

You kiss and kiss again, keep going until the fire ignites in him once more where it still flamed for you.

“Please.”

His voice is low no matter how much he whines so a guiding hand slips him into where you’re filthily wet. And he’s huge despite seed already spilt. He’s loaded like it was meant for you and not your mouth, throbbing enough so your pussy can feel it.

And suddenly you realise it’s bare. Complete bare. As in, bare enough that you are willing to take on a child kind of bare.

His eyes tell the story when yours find his, wide and curious. They roll back into whites when you pull up fully and then sink back down, milking him for all he has so he knows this is your full intention. Naked in every sense.

“Shit, Tae.”

“Fuckkkkk,” he doesn’t swear often, but sex is a must and the quirk of your lips tells him just how much you like him losing himself in pleasure.

He hits deep from here, cock lodged far in and even further when he begins to take control. 

His feet plant and his hands pull you down so skin flushes to skin and he can pump up into you with unadulterated need. 

Your teeth have to clamp onto his shoulder with the way he hits your cervix, it’s uncomfortable yet you love it. That kind of sex where everything is so fulfilling that you just can’t mutter ‘stop’. How could you say such a thing anyway when he’s groaning that he loves you with every upbeat.

It hits good once. Twice.

“Tae, fuck. There.”

Three times. 

“Here?”

Again.

“Oh my fuc- Fuckkk,” and there’s nothing you can do when you’re so stimulated you tumble deep and hard onto him and continue to do over and over in waves. 

He’s finding his end in the way your pussy grips him. 

“Baby. Y/N, Cunt so good, jesus.”

You’re burning when he’s going so fast the headboard bangs louder than your moans. So your hand quickly finds his balls underneath you and that does him, unravels him to the point he quakes.

“Holy- Love you. Love you. Fuck. Love you.”

Your ears might ring but that’s all you hear for the next minute. His mantra that keeps his lust alive until his love is so set in stone the words are not needed. 

Your hand, winding into his hair and the thrum of your heart against his tells him enough.

It’s this. Silence and tranquillity yet with the constant buzz of electricity all around you.

You’re still there entangled, limbs on limbs and lights touches on bare skin as the slither of light through the blinds turns ruby red in the heat of sunset.

You know his eyes must glow golden from where the sun angles on his face so you can’t help but spare a glance. And you’re right when you imagined it as beautiful because the sun bathes him like it was meant to. 

He’s still awake because his eyes flutter when you trail the outside of your fingers down his cheek and then onto his lips. It’s even more apparent when he brings his hand up to yours so he can kiss each knuckle individually.

“You came inside.”

It weighed heavy on you, the obvious factor that had happened earlier. And before allowing the beauty of the moment to settle in you had to see his expression when you mentioned it.

Yet there’s nothing but closed eyes and the slight smile that had been painted on his lips since you’d told him how much you wanted him.

“Mmm.”

“And you’re okay with that?” It’s not harsh, just a question from you. A security query because you have to know what this was for him. Caught up in the moment or something deeper?

His eyes bolt open at the question though.

“Are you?”

You almost have to think. Almost.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“And so am I.”

[gia1o]

This blog is officially 1 year old. My life has changed drastically since I started this blog a year ago, for the better. Am I 100% healed, no. But I have come a long, long way. Last year, I was in an extremely toxic relationship with a man I still to this day have love for. He had his demons and I had mine. To pin the blame on just one of us would be unfair. To say that I don’t still love him would be a lie. It would also be a lie to say that I don’t miss him. However, I don’t love and miss the things that came with being with him. Most of the things, anyway. Hence why we are no longer together. Since him, I have changed my phone number for separate reasons. There have been days where I have been tempted to contact him and give him my new number. I have held myself back. I no longer cry for him or feel empty without him. Without any man, at that. I have found solace in solitude. I feel good. I am closer to my family now than I have been in a long, long time. I am a lot more honest with them as well. They might not know every single detail, but they know I am still fighting off some of those demons. They no longer keep themselves blinded from my evident progress. The thing is, I’ve learned how not to avoid red flags. In not only men, but in everybody that comes my way. I have learned to not chase those that pretend to love me and so easily walk away. I have learned to not put up with abuse. These are things I always knew I should do, but never did. Now, I do. For that alone, I am proud. I have grown a lot this year and not just by age.

Now, regarding my drug use. I still smoke fentanyl. I am no longer on the needle. I don’t care who you are or what you have to say, I will pat myself on the back for that anyway. I have not injected anything since the quarantine was put into place, and even before then, it was a lot less frequent. I live in Los Angeles county, in a city near Long Beach (for those of you unfamiliar with California, Los Angeles does not just consist of Hollywood, Santa Monica and Malibu. I live in the part of Los Angeles known as, “The South Bay”). There was this stuff going around here that I had been using for over a year called “fetty”. Which is black tar heroin, heavily mixed with fentanyl. It was the only stuff that was getting me high. When the quarantine was put into place, there was an outage. The main dealer that supplied all of my dealers with that product fell off the face of the Earth. No one knows exactly what had happened to him. At this point, I knew there was no going back to heroin without fentanyl in it. I tried huff, I tried all types of tar (Mexican and Afghan), I tried. I tried. And I tried. Going back two years from today, I was also off the needle and began snorting fentanyl. That connect got put away and that’s when I found the fetty stuff and began shooting again. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I don’t really know... I found out my fentanyl dealer is out of prison and up and running again. And as time goes on, I begin to find out that everyone and their mother is on fentanyl only. It’s rare to find anyone in my area that gives two shits about plain ole heroin anymore (a sentence I never thought I’d hear myself say). Two years ago when I was on fentanyl, everyone here judged me for it. Now, all those people that judged me for snorting fentanyl are doing so bad that they might as well be shooting it into their eye balls. I never enjoyed injecting fentanyl. I was always afraid of putting in too much and dying and that fear kept me from putting in too little to enjoy it. So a few months ago I found out that I got a great high from smoking it. It was a waste to snort it and too risky to inject it. But hey, at least I’m no longer poking and prodding away at my already scarred skin for hours at a time hoping and praying and hoping some more to find a vein. I am no longer crying in frustration. I am no longer making my loved ones wait for me while I’m locked away in a bathroom, bleeding all over the place and banging my head against the wall because I can’t find a spot. And when I finally have the audacity to come out and face everyone, I can’t even look them in the eyes because I can barely keep mine open. I am well aware that I am not a saint for no longer doing this. But now... now I have reachable goals that I am actually taking steps to reach instead of keeping my fingers crossed and thinking that everything will fall into place when I’m not doing jack shit about it. I am no longer breaking my exes windows because he locked me out after a fight with all my drugs and possessions being held hostage inside his home. I am no longer running up and down the streets of his neighborhood barefoot and in nothing but a towel chasing cars to help me because we couldn’t even wait to fight until I got fully dressed after a shower. I no longer feel unnecessary guilt for going out with my friends and having a good time without his presence. I no longer have to pawn my family’s and my things for way less than they are worth for a fix. I no longer. I no longer. I no longer. Yes, I am still playing with fire, but I’m out of the flames. I can’t guarantee full recovery, but I can feel it getting better. As long as there is still fire, there is impending doom. But whether the fire goes out or not, there’s always the danger of another fire.

Hope everyone is being as safe as possible. I hope everyone is either sober or staying high. I hope all of you are happy and alive.

Xoxo, Gia

[brokehorrorfan]

Best New Horror Movies on Netflix: Spring 2018

There’s an overwhelming amount of horror movies to sift through on Netflix, so I’ve decided to take out some of the legwork by compiling a list of the season’s best new genre titles available on Netflix’s instant streaming service.

Please feel free to leave a comment with any I may have missed and share your thoughts on any of the films you watch. You can also peruse past installments of Best New Horror Moves on Netflix for more suggestions.

1. The Ritual

The Ritual is the great Blair Witch Project sequel we never got. Although not found footage, it explores many similar plot points as the recent Blair Witch - yet it feels far more fresh and, more importantly, scarier. The first two acts are superbly eerie, and, while it loses a tiny bit of momentum toward the end, it offers a truly imaginative creature design. After memorable segments in several anthologies, David Bruckner's (V/H/S, The Signal) feature directorial debut offers a small but strong cast led by Rafe Spall (Prometheus), well-developed characters, a creative use of flashbacks, and a brilliant atmosphere of dread.

2. Veronica

Veronica's reputation precedes it, as it has been the subject of several high-profile articles touting it as the scariest movie on Netflix. I'm not sure it lives up to that claim, but it's certainly worth seeing for yourself. Based on true events, the film takes place in 1991 Madrid. When 15-year-old Veronica (Sandra Escacena) attempts to contact her deceased father with a Ouija board alongside two fellow Catholic schoolgirls, she becomes haunted by something from the other side. Escacena - an actual teenager - delivers a great performance, and director Paco Plaza ([Rec]) channels James Wan in his expert crafting of frightening set pieces.

3. Before I Wake

Nearly three years after it was supposed to open in theaters, Before I Wake was rescued from rights issues by Netflix. Director Mike Flanagan (Ouija: Origin of Evil, Gerald's Game) has since cemented himself as a modern master of horror, and Before I Wake is another winner. Kate Bosworth (Superman Returns) and Thomas Jane (The Mist) star as a couple who, still grieving the death of their young son, adopt a 6-year-old boy, Cody (a then-unknown Jacob Tremblay, Room). Upon learning that Cody's dreams manifests themselves in reality, the parents encourage him to dream about their deceased son in order to spend more time with him. Unfortunately for everyone, Cody also suffers from nightmares about a creature he calls The Canker Man. It's a bit heavy on exposition, but the film has ample heart and strong visuals. Similar to the work of Guillermo del Toro, Before I Wake blends horror motifs with fantastical and dark dramatic elements.

4. 47 Meters Down

Originally scheduled to go straight-to-DVD in 2016, 47 Meters Down was given a theatrical release last summer, which proved to be an unlikely success. Mandy Moore (This Is Us) and Claire Holt (The Vampire Diaries) star in the underwater thriller as sisters whose shark diving expedition goes wrong. Trapped on the ocean floor, the girls' air supplies are quickly depleting while a swam of great white sharks circles the area. There are a few unfortunate jump scares, and suspension of disbelief is certainly required, but director Johannes Roberts (The Other Side of the Door) takes a mostly grounded, serious approach, crafting a bit of old-fashioned suspense at a brisk pace. Read my full review of the film here.

5. Mute

Mute is a sci-fi mystery, not a horror movie - although it does have a brutal kill at its climax. Aesthetically, the film is total Blade Runner worship - perhaps even more so than Blade Runner 2049 - so it is gorgeous to look at. Set in the near future, the plot finds a mute bartender (Alexander Skarsgård, True Blood) searching the seedy underbelly of Berlin for his missing girlfriend. But it's the B-story - in which Paul Rudd (Ant-Man) and Justin Theroux (The Girl on the Train) play a pair of wise-cracking black market surgeons - that steals the show. Director Duncan Jones (Moon, Source Code), who co-wrote the script with Michael Robert Johnson (Sherlock Holmes), also throws in a fun nod to Moon that sets Mute in the same universe.

6. Nails

Nails occasionally feels like a lesser Insidious movie (particularly Chapter 3, since both involve injured female antagonists), but it'll hit that sweet spot when you're browsing Netflix for something short (only 85 minutes!) and creepy in the middle of the night. After a nasty hit and run, Dana (Shauna Macdonald, The Descent) is left confined to a hospital bed, barely able to speak or move. She believes someone is in the room with her at night; at first, she feels a presence watching her, and then it starts touching. Her family and doctors dismiss her claims as hallucinations from painkillers. It suffers from a bit too much exposition, but there are some strong horror set pieces. The Irish film earns bonus points for being almost entirely contained to the hospital bed without getting stale.

7. Ravenous

Ravenous (also known as Les Affamés) is yet another post-apocalyptic zombie thriller in the vein of The Walking Dead, but it's better than many of its contemporaries. The Canadian production is in French, but it addresses universal themes in its exploration of human drama. In the film, various rogue survivors band together to strengthen their chances of survival among the hordes of infected. Along the way, it introduces a mysterious ritual of sorts that the zombies perform, though it's never fully paid off. Nevertheless, this one is worth a watch if you’re a fan of recent zombie dramas like Maggie, The Cured, Here Alone, and What We Become.

8. Bad Match

The first act of Bad Match resembles a sophomoric “bro” comedy, but it's worth sitting through to watch it blossom into its final form: Fatal Attraction for the digital age. Jack Cutmore-Scott (Deception) stars as Harris, a 20-something tech worker with a tendency to hook up with women from a Tinder-like dating app and then never speak to them again. He finally meets a woman he really likes, Riley (Lili Simmons, Bone Tomahawk), only to have her become deeply obsessed with him. The supporting cast includes Noureen DeWulf (Anger Management), Chase Williamson (Beyond the Gates), Brandon Scott (Channel Zero), and Trent Haaga (Citizen Toxie: The Toxic Avenger IV).

9. Godzilla: Planet of the Monsters

I'm surprised it has taken this long for Toho to make a Godzilla anime, as both are staples of Japan, and the medium eliminates any limitations caused by having an actor in the rubber suit. Godzilla: Planet of the Monsters is the first installment in a planned anime trilogy. Like many Godzilla films, it spends a tedious amount of time with character exposition before the creatures are introduced. The film is set in 2048, after giant monster attacks have caused the earth to collapse. Humans search space for an inhabitable planet before returning to earth; nearly halfway through the movie, they finally land and start fighting the kaiju. It's an impressive sight when Godzilla finally shows up, as it’s the biggest version of the king of the monsters ever put on screen. With all of the set up out of the way, Planet of the Monsters sets the stage for the next two installments to be even better.

Bonus: The End of the F***ing World

The End of the F***ing World is a British series released in the US as a Netflix original. 17-year-old James (Alex Lawther, Black Mirror) is fairly certain he's a serial killer, but when his would-be first victim, the moody Alyssa (Jessica Barden, The Lobster), invites him to runaway with him, the unstable couple fall for one another. Like Natural Born Killers meets Moonrise Kingdom, their time on the road includes absurd crime, unlikely death, young love, and pitch-black humor. With an engaging story spread out across eight 20-minute episodes, it's virtually impossible not to binge through the entire season in one sitting.

Bonus: Haunters: The Art of the Scare

Haunters: The Art of the Scare is ostensibly a documentary about homemade haunted houses, similar to The American Scream. It profiles a few mom-and-pop haunts, illustrating the communal aspect as well as the strain it can have on personal relationships. But the bulk of the film is dedicated to McKamey Manor, a nonprofit "extreme haunt" run out of certifiably insane guy's house in San Diego. There's a waiting list of thousands of people who are more than willing to be debased on camera for all the internet to see. Deplorable as it may be, it's a fascinating subject that, frankly, should have been the sole subject of the documentary.

[chambersmyers67-blog]

Friendly Furniture Aids For Movement.

I am specific that you have actually perhaps listened to or seen mobility device platform lifts that will certainly give individuals that are mobility device bound a means of entering and also out of their automobiles. In attaining power you have to establish particular individual qualities like looking into a beneficial location to start, check out and create the sources needed to acquire a desired position as well as do something about it. Simply under 6.6 million individuals go to a gym regularly, below a peak of more than 6.7 million six months ago. Using the power of the Zeo Crystal, Tommy, Kat, Rocky, Tanya as well as Adam ended up being the Zeo Rangers, Planet's last resort versus the Machine Realm. It consists of the electromechanical head which is in charge of reading/writing data on the CD/DVD and consumes great deals of power. Also if a gym does not allow a youngster to join, they may prolong babysitting services. According to lots of fitness center sales pitches, you'll drop weight, you'll transform your body and your total lifestyle will boost if you join their fitness center. When it comes to high quality of wheelchair lift, convenience and also convenience is the very first standard for purchaser. It has 11 gyms in Spain as well as 4 in Portugal, in addition to 5 outlets in Australia. With a mobility device system lift the individual has the power to set their wheelchair on the lift and also secure it right into area. The three sorts of face lift treatments are the deep plane lift, the mid lift and the string lift. The genuine power of Power, however, is that ... it's putting African-Americans at the heart of a TV pattern - the antihero - that previously has largely been the district of white men. If you're new to the fitness center you might be daunted, but if you follow these basic standards, it will ease your change from lazy person to fitness center rat. The Bowflex Sporting activity residence fitness center does occupy a fair bit of room; the impact of it is larger than what many people anticipate. The only means for any of the Rangers to call one another would certainly be their independent wrist devices, which really did not count on the Megaship for power. The Bowflex Sporting activity house fitness center is a versatile maker that covers basically every muscle group of the body. Some fitness centers do not allow any person under 18, while some nationwide chains, such as 24-HOUR Health and fitness, allow minors ages 12 to 17 to join. Mention punch power and individuals have the tendency to recollect huge, protruding arms and triceps muscles. When you are looking for the mobility device lift van or you are intending to have van customized, it is suggested to you that you deal exclusively with a credible member of the National Flexibility devices dealerships association when you are have to purchase a mobility device handicap lift van. With the matches still in his hand, he struck up an additional fire, illuminating the opening, showing a collection of actions heading to a reduced degree. I looked up to see what can be the last time Jack checked out me with love in his eyes and afterwards counted on encounter my back to him as i raised my leading to disclose my bare back to him. Although the concept of power is not inborn but learned some individuals have it and also others do not. I additionally like his summary of the cost of power; lengthy hours, hard work, as well as loss of family members as well as individual time. He raised his hand as well as i tensed my body, wheezed as well as closed my eyes all set for the discomfort. Sports Direct stated its ₤ 5 deal was being tried at its brand-new purpose-built fitness centers as well as maybe turned out at the former LA Health and fitness websites in the future. The health club is 142,000 square feet as well as consists of equipment such as outside as well as interior swimming pools, 12 tennis courts, exercising weights, machines and 120 health and fitness classes in a week. It has 40 gyms in huge cities around the UK. Conversely, everyday membership prices just ₤ 5. The majority of regional recreation centre gyms could be used on a PAYG basis. These wheelchair lift vans are specially made to accommodate wheelchair bound person. Enhancing temperature levels incorporated with the damaging contaminants released by nuclear power plant contribute to unhealthy air high quality, activating asthma assaults and various other breathing harms. Pfeffer (Glad this is a created review I have no suggestion how you can state that name) is an academic that specialises on organisational behavior, as well as this book is basically his advice on the best ways to acquire, preserve, and also recognize power. The gamers handled to prise open the lift doors as well as were handed containers of water, coffee as well as sandwiches as temperature levels increased inside. Each time we placed ourselves right into package we shed our power since at this moment we shed the ability to recognize our limitless possibility. What interests me extra is how in each story human life is placed relative to law and political power. The oppositions could not doubt whether the Clean Air Act authorizes EPA to limit carbon dioxide pollution from nuclear power plant. The emphasis of his book is the result power carries those who do not have it. He breaks his analysis down into 3 measurements of power: the initial is straight negotiating and also engagement, the second is the exclusion of the helpless from that bargaining process and/or agenda-setting by the effective, and also the third is the internalization of the ideals, worths, and also choices of the dominant by the controlled. Rather counter-intuitively, the quicker removable quad lift has the same uphill ability as a fixed-grip quad. An old gym at the site closed in 2012 as well as the centre was demolished and reconstructed by the Royal District of Kensington and also Chelsea, who spent ₤ 29million. To me, this is really sad since as I claimed, it was hand made equipment by Joe Gold himself and also has a particular worth to it if nothing else than for historical factors. Then she entered 8th quality and also participated in track, swimming, then softball period came. After the Turbo Rangers lost their powers, he effectively led the team into room, where they discovered Andros as well as the Megaship. I have actually had numerous unforgettable miracles given that I discovered the Secret and now I'm expecting enjoying the things I've developed in the past, caring every little thing in my present, and lovi While the Secret is the legislation of attraction, the Power is the regulation of love. It deserves having a look at which Pokémon are in the health club you intend to attack prior to opting to enter into battle to make certain you have the appropriate sorts of Pokémon to prosper. L'entraînement par accélération sur les plates-formes Power Plate ® acquire une foule d'avantages notables put atteindre, voire dépasser, les objectifs de problem body. Lewis, pushing the ground, blood dripping down his face, reaching out for the last vital to his power. So while energy power plant fitness centers may not generate blinding light, their presence does leave a bit much more light at the end of the passage. Individuals who frequently flock to cosmetic surgery clinics to have a mid lift are those in their 40s or 50s. Stood under the largest shower she had ever before seen she delighted in the feel of the water as it moved down her, sighing with satisfaction as the power shower gently massaged her body. The no-frills health club group, which is managed by exclusive equity house CCMP Funding Advisors, had hoped to provide the business in London following the ₤ 250m float of its main budget rival, The Fitness center Team, last November. Push-ups and also pull-ups are the most standard upper-body motion to establish power endurance. This workout equipment is frequently gone along with by a display screen that tracks the heart price,. in addition to other details like the number of miles run or calories melted. Il est vrai que j' y consacre a peu prés 4 heures par semaine chez moi en musique et je peu vous dire que je ne price aucune séance tant je me sens bien après mon heure de power plate. There are various other basic functions of patio PL-P mobile wheelchair lift are as adheres to. The High court already determined that question also in American Electric Power v. Connecticut, in 2011. Both fitness centers have actually moved the inner city location of Sparkhill as well as cater for a mainly Muslim clientele. The Lumo Raise costs ₤ 80 in black, white as well as grey with black and silver magnets. If you stroll into the gym with reduced power or really feel as if you have flu-like symptoms, the very best point to do is to delay your workout for a couple days. There is an alternative available to you if your objective is to lift weights and also get a cardio benefit at the same time. People waste a lot of money on unneeded cardio equipment, multi gyms as well as overpriced specialist products that quite frankly aren't specifically helpful in an industrial gym, let alone a house training area. Going to imp source was as essential to a Roman as mosting likely to the gym was to a Greek.

[bbbarneswrites]

High-Heeled Heaven

Read Chapter Five: Valentino Rockstud Pumps 

Sebastian Stan x Reader

Summary: In which Sebastian can’t help but appreciate his girl’s high-heels shoes. Genre: Romance/fluff Warnings: Swearings 1,808 words

Notes: Inspired by Hell in High Heels by Jewelgirl04, I decided to write a little series of drabbles so we can be trash about how Seb likes high-heels. I’m not even sorry. Each chapter will be inspired by a different pair of shoes that I wish I could actually afford, lmao. The link down there provides a better look to the shoes if you want and in the middle of the fic there’s a link for the full outfit. Heads up for our cutest new ‘character’ in this chapter too. And Sebastian’s moustache...lmao. Enjoy! <3

Chapter Six: Gianvito Rossi Plexi Pumps

Past the end of the year holidays and its shenanigans, January starts with a busy schedule for both you and Sebastian.

By the first week of the month, he’s off to Atlanta to film his new movie while you find yourself busy with a few events to attend in New York and a festival in Utah to promote your lastest movie, that has been actually moving a lot faster than the production team anticipated.

All in all, you don’t have much time to worry about anything else than interview schedules, photoshoots, flight times and public appearences during that month.

But February just happens to be a little different once you get a little break before your own press tour starts. New York is still ranging with its moody weather and there’s a few days in which you can’t help but be painfully aware of Sebastian’s absence, despite the new companion he got for you as a Christmas gift.

Little Jack is the most adorable Border Collie puppy you’ve ever seen and most definitely the best gift you’ve gotten during your entire life. He’s absolutely the best cuddle partner for lazy days and his presence makes your apartment feel less gloomy when you’re on your own.

Though that doesn’t mean you’re not missing Sebastian.

Within less than a week for your boyfriend’s homecoming, the New York Fashion Week is on again and you’re soon with another list of shows and parties to choose from.

So once Friday rolls around and the third day of the Fashion Week starts, your fairly small apartment is crowded with the presence of your hair stylist and make-up artist, all expertly getting you ready in less than two hours.

Even with the city’s frigid temperatures, you’re gifted with a beautiful black and white two-piece outfit matched with a knee-length black wool coat. It kinda makes you feel badass so you don’t complain much about it as you slip into the said clothes with Lia’s help, taking extra care with your hair and make-up as she helps you to adjust the last details.

Now that all you need are your shoes and jewelry, you walk run over to your bedroom to grab  them just in time to catch Sebastian’s FaceTime call on your phone.

With a instant smile growing on your lips, you pick up the phone and sit on your bed, Jack fumbling around your feet as you accept the call. As soon as Sebastian’s face fill up the device’s screen, you can’t help but hold back a laugh at his very particular predicament.

Something that he notices right away with your poor hiding skills.

“You know, if I didn’t know you any better I’d be offended.” He says right off the bat, a feigned angry frown deep between his eyebrows as he notices your struggle to keep yourself serious. “Fucking unbelievable.”

At his indignant muttered words, you immediately give in to your urges and let out a laugh, your chest flaring with low-key affection as you note that he’s holding back a smile of his own while keeping up his angry front.

“I know I should be sorry but I’m not really.” You shoot him a half smile, trying to look as guilty as you can though you know he’s not buying just by the way he’s shaking his head. “You look so funny, I can’t help it.”

To your defense, he really does look kinda funny. Seeing your usually fashionable and very sharp boyfriend sporting classic 90s outfits – that included hideous turtlenecks and dad jeans – with a thin moustache and no sideburns at all wasn’t something that you thought you’d ever experience. And yet, there you are.

“Yeah, story of my life.” Seb rolls his eyes and lets out a chuckle, getting past the playful moment once he smiles tenderly at you, phone shaking as he moves on his hotel bed. “How’s things over there? Where’s the dog?”

With a roll of eyes of your own, you turn to the front camera and focus on Jack playing with his toys by your feet, letting out a laugh as soon he starts speaking and doing cooing noises that the puppy immediately perks up with.

“As you can see, things are good and Jack is right here making me company.” You reply playfully in the background, turning the camera back to you again just in time to smile mischievously at him. “Sooo, how are things over there? Are you staying away from elementary schools?”

“Ha-ha, you’re so funny.” Sebastian glares at you through the phone screen, looking unimpressed by the proud and amused grin on your lips. “Charles already made that joke so you’re a little late on that one.”

“Don’t be like that.” You pout in feigned disappointment, chanelling your best puppy face when he simply hums in reply. “If it makes you feel better I really, really miss you today.”

Almost as if you’d said magic words, Sebastian’s face instantly light up and you swear you can spot a discrete shade of red covering his clean shaved cheeks, though you don’t mention a word about it despite the affection bubbling up in your chest.

It’s always cute when he’s caught off-guard, his sweet and shy self slipping every now and then through his usual charming front even though the bastard can compose himself pretty quickly.

“Yeah? Just today?” Sebastian smiles smugly for a brief moment until you glare at him, a honest laugh escaping from his lips that soon melts into an almost dreamy sigh. “You look so beautiful. I kinda feel bad that you have to deal with this now.”

“Thanks, babe. That’s the perks of going to a fashion show for free, I guess.” You shrug sheepishly, hoping that your flushed cheeks aren’t visible through the phone screen as you laugh. “And don’t worry about that, two hours ago I was wearing my pajamas onesie so you’re good.”

“Let me see you then.” He says abruptly, his lips growing in a smirk when he sees your slightly disgruntled expression at his sudden request. “Come on. You laughed at my moustache just now, can you let me see you for a second?”

Despite being used to his beaming personality and occasional flirty demeanor, you still can’t help but feel slightly timid whenever it sets on him to tease you like this. Even though Sebastian can be a little awkward and quiet at times, he knows he’s handsome and most definitely knows the effect he has on most people once he’s comfortable enough.

One of these people just happens to be you.

And just by the way he’s smiling through the camera with that ridiculous moustache of his (that makes him look funny but still not ugly, much to your despair), it seems like he knows he got his way on this one.

So his smile just widens as you groan and get up from your spot by the edge of the bed, the phone’s image shuffling as you walk towards the big mirror covering up one of your walls. When you flip the camera to the front side again and frame it on your reflection, you dare to give him a cheeky smile before pulling out a pose.

“There you go, mom.” You tease with a short laugh, turning to your sides a few times in a playful way to show him the full outfit. “Happy now?”

Sebastian lets out a content hum as he runs a hand through his jaw, eyes squinted and lips pursed into a smirk you know too well.

“That’s one look, I’ll tell you.” He boasts with a cocky smile, his eyes set on your frame in a way that almost makes you feel as if he’s right there watching you. “I gotta ask though. You’re going barefoot or...?”

The question comes as no surprise but your reaction is immediate. Once your laugh fills up the room, Sebastian is all the way over in Georgia smiling like the biggest show-off on Earth, low-key eager for whatever is coming next.

“Christ, you’re like a predator or something.” You shake your head in mocked disapproval, knowing that the action won’t put him off due the clear amusement still laced to your voice as you continue. “Of course not moustache man, I got new shoes just for this and they’re awesome.”

Before he can even ask, you walk over to where the box is set and makes a show of opening it as best as you can one-handed, still filming the whole thing with your front camera just to spite him. Even though he doesn’t see it, you completely fail at holding back a smile when he lets out a low, almost amazed ‘wow’ as the shoes come into the view.

Finally setting them on the floor, you slowly step into the heels and frame the image on your legs, unpretentiously walking back to the mirror to frame the camera on your reflection once again.

“God, I miss you so much.” Sebastian sighs tiredly, his eyes looking kind and tender despite the serious tone of his voice as he tilts his head to rest against the bed’s headboard. “Can’t wait to be home with you and the dog.”

His words warm up your chest right away and you bite back your lower lip to hide one of your giddy smiles, the camera now set back to your face.

“We miss you too.” You reply softly, giving in to a smile when Jack walks past you to walk into your closet. “Jack’s been out of his mind without your runners around to chew off, believe me.”

Seb laughs but doesn’t go further than that as Lia’s call from the living room interrupts the moment, warning that your Uber is just a few minutes away and asking if, for the love of God, you’re ready to go after all this time. As you glance apologetic at Sebastian, all he does is offer a cute laugh and a shake of head.

Well, at least you’ve put your shoes on. Jewelry is the least of your concerns right now. Or it’s supposed to be.

“Hey, knock them dead for me.” He says with a serious expression though his tone of voice is light and sounding as teasing as ever, his tongue running over his lower lip before he finishes. “I’ll be home in no time.”

“I will, handsome.” You smile knowingly at him, throwing a wink before gesturing around your mouth with a pleading face. “And please, take that thing off your face before you get into the plane, okay?”

Sebastian laughs, lower lip caught between his teeth and suddenly you can’t wait for the next six days to be just over.

“If you don’t forget to save these shoes for me.”

Just a few more days. 

[segadores-y-soldados]

Moira: A Fate Fulfilled

“So it’s always interesting to think back on the ideation of a hero, you know - how do we start, we get that question a lot.  And with Moira, it was a little bit of gameplay and a little bit of story.  You know - we heard your feedback, you guys wanted a new healer in the game, and we felt the same way.  Um, so we really started there.  And uh, we have a lot of benevolent healers in the game - we have an angel, we have a monk, a mother, and the most upbeat, like, positive dj that you’ve ever met.  So we felt like it was time for something a little bit more morally ambiguous, a little bit more shady.  So we started there, and we started with these concepts.” - Arnold Tsang, Moira Reveal Panel (timestamp: 4:52 - https://youtu.be/HsJU3PEk9JY?t=292)

---

Question: yeah, so I know that Tracer was kinda inspired by the “Jumper” class in Titan and all that, and there was a couple of other heroes in Overwatch that were inspired by scrapped classes from Titan, and I was wondering if Moira was one of them, and what other types of abilities or class playstyles from Titan would you like to incorporate into future heroes of Overwatch? Geoff Goodman: Moira’s definitely like - completely [from] scratch, there wasn’t really anything there from Titan, and a lot of them were like that.

---

From scratch, huh?

---

In mid-June of 2016, a redditor posted a long and incredibly well-thought out theory, citing in-game interactions and designs, on why they believed Mercy was actually “the true villain” of Overwatch.

You can find the post here: https://www.reddit.com/r/Overwatch/comments/4okg03/a_long_theory_mercy_is_the_true_overwatch_villain/

Perhaps their biggest hypothesis was that Mercy had been the one to incorrectly resurrect Blackwatch Commander Gabriel Reyes/Reaper, which had resulted in an antagonism between the two characters, one representing an “angelic savior” and the other representing “the embodiment of death.”  They concluded with:

Yes.

This is where the “Evil Mercy” theory really got started.

I remember it, because it was one of the first big “lore theories” on Overwatch I had ever read.

In time, the “Evil Mercy” or alternately, the “Mercy failed to correctly resurrect Reaper” theory spread pretty far.  Among the discussions was a cited interaction between the two characters that people swore they heard in the game.  This interaction goes something like this:

Mercy: This isn’t what I had in mind for you... Reaper: You knew exactly what you were doing.

Or alternately

Reaper: Remember, you’re the one responsible for all this. Mercy: This wasn’t my plan for you, Reyes...

Except there was a major problem.

Neither version of these supposed interactions existed.

Fans were baffled.  Many people were convinced it existed, or had existed and then been removed from the game.  The only source was an early Hammeh video from May 2016, just after the beta of the game launched, in which you can find the line:

Reaper: Don’t forget - you’re the one responsible for this. (https://youtu.be/PoKRFx5Sb5g?t=245)

However, unbeknownst to many fans, Michael Chu had debunked the existence of the exchange for a long time.

“I'm not sure where it came from (maybe there is another line that sounds similar to it), but the "this is not what I intended for you, Reyes" line/exchange does not actually exist in the game.” - Michael Chu, July 22, 2016 (https://us.battle.net/forums/en/overwatch/topic/20747844983#post-16)

The theory continued to spread until Michael retweeted his Blizzard Forums post on his twitter in January 2017 (https://twitter.com/westofhouse/status/822513004784664576?lang=en)

After that, it started dying down.

But it was about that same time that fans of the game began asking for a new support hero -

A morally-ambiguous or even outright evil one. (Real talk, you will get hundreds if not thousands of post on this exact subject if you search “evil healer” or “Talon healer” in the Overwatch subreddit, some as far back as 7 or 8 months ago, so March-ish, and at least a few as old as a year ago).

Most of the fan ideas about an “evil healer” involved some sort of life-leech or life-draining ability in which the “evil healer” could draw health from opponents and then redistribute it to their allies, pretty standard to a fantasy warlock or black mage-type character, except modified for Overwatch’s “firm sci-fi�� settings.

Meanwhile, what flew quietly under almost everyone’s radar was the release of Oasis, first onto the PTR in December 2016, and then live servers in January 2017.

As far as I can tell, Hammeh was once again the only source really covering the surprisingly dark and morally ambiguous intent of some aspects of the map.  You can find that here: https://youtu.be/6GE11k0X9sQ?t=337.

More importantly -

Hammeh was the first source to compare Oasis directly to the Solder Enhancement Program.

Hammeh: “Remember that...Oasis in the present-day, we’ve had the Soldier Enhancement Program, or whatever took effect on Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes for - roughly - twenty-six years or so ago?  Given that Morrison and Reyes - pre-his current existence as Reaper, of course - were the products of that twenty-six-year-old program, what could a city of scientists...without perhaps any moral limits on their research, have achieved in Oasis?”

(Congrats on calling it, Hammeh, you deserve mad props) And he brings up a point very near and dear to my heart:

Hammeh: The last known place that we’ve seen Mercy was actually in a Middel Eastern area - I sort of estimated, trying to guess from this map, it could be maybe Iraq or Iran, but what if she was, perhaps, in Oasis?  What would she be doing here?  But, who knows?  It’d be fascinating if we saw Mercy turn up at Oasis at some time in the future.  Given that Mercy made big breakthroughs in nanobiology, one wonders if, maybe, she worked with some people in Oasis...or not.  Complete speculation, but I could see it working.

Sometime after Uprising, in May 2017, I posted a (rather rambling) essay on how Overwatch was incorporating “horror stories” and “tales of the apocalypse” into the game, even “in fun modes” like Junkenstein’s Revenge.  But one of the big points was that I speculated on the possible Mercy-Oasis connections:

http://segadores-y-soldados.tumblr.com/post/159665523340/overwatch-apocalypse-now

The most important one, however, is this set (I cannot find the direct quotes, so I’m basing this off memory but):

Sombra: “What are we doing here?” Reaper: “We’re here to see an old friend.”

Now this is extremely interesting.  One of the prevailing fan theories is that Angela “Mercy” Ziegler may have connections to Oasis - she is depicted in the Recall short as being located somewhere in the Middle East, particularly somewhere in present-day Iraq, which is where “the city of Oasis” is located.  In the Reflections comic, she is shown to be working on some sort of “active field duty” in a tent that is brightly-lit.  In the “We Are Overwatch” short, she rescues a young girl on the edge of a large city with multiple skyscrapers in the background.

I know there is already speculation that, if Mercy is in fact located in Oasis, Reaper is “out for her.”  Another version of the theory goes that Reaper is coming to see her to ask her for help with his current state of existence (note that I am not a fan of the “Mercy botched saving Reaper” theory because that has been effectively debunked by Chu).

Because if there is anyone capable of helping Reaper restore himself, it would be “the doctor of death herself,” Angela Ziegler.

We know from Dragons, Recall, Hero, and the Museum Heist that 1) ultimates such as the Dragons and Tactical Visor are canon, 2) Reaper is capable of transforming himself into smoke, 3) Winston’s in-game abilities - including his Rage ultimate - are canon.  At the moment, there is no reason to believe that Mercy’s Resurrection ultimate is not canon.  People will no doubt argue that I’m making a leap of logic here, but until confirmed otherwise, I’d say it’s likely that all Ultimates are canon.

And therefore this means that Mercy knows how to revive the dead.

More than anything, this means that if Mercy is associated with Oasis, that we should be giving a solid, hard look at what exactly this implies for lore.  I’m not saying that Oasis “having Lovecraftian connotations is 100% canon,” but rather it is important to note that the types of references a story builds for itself almost certainly influences the type of story it wants to portray.  The fact that Mercy has not one, but multiple skins that are related to “raising the dead in morally-ambiguous ways” is telling.  She has two Valkyrie skins, the Imp and Devil skins, and the Witch skin (which literally carries “a book of life” on her).

Again, I already know these skins aren’t canon.  That’s beside the point.  The point here is that all of this combined creates a very ambiguous tone about Mercy and Oasis - the undercurrents of mistrust, the sensation that “something lurks in the city,” the feeling that “humanity is playing with forces it cannot control,” the idea that “a doctor who defies death” lives and works there, the idea that the “in-game embodiment of Death Himself” is going there to “visit an old friend.”  These are all things that build an eerie sense of foreboding.

Exactly as Lovecraft would have wanted it.

Lovecraft’s Nameless City builds the groundwork “lore” for his Cthulhu mythology.  The “nameless city” is a city in the Arabian desert, older than Babylon, implied to have been “lost” to the ages as humanity began to conquer the earth.  The ancient race that built the city retreated underground, where they continued their worship of the Great Old Ones.  The human protagonist of The Nameless City wanders deeper and deeper until he is beset by the presence of the ancient race and some form of the Great Old Ones, ostensibly for “intruding on a realm he had no right to access.”

Sorry for the long quote, but I was ecstatic to see Zenyatta get a Cthulhu-based skin this Halloween, because directly after this Oasis part, I talk about Zenyatta and his connections to “the unknowable.”

What the Overwatch team is building here is a series of “range of canon” background mythologies (some that are “non-canon but merely background white noise that colors how the players view the world,” to “these are kinda sorta canon and you should be paying attention to how we use these references,” to “these are outright canon and we will be using them blatantly for whatever we want”) that develop the world in a set of unique ways.  Even for the stuff that “isn’t canon,” it still exists in the game and it still tints how players interact with the characters, their personalities, and their story arcs.  Reaper’s Mariachi skins and Zenyatta’s Djinn skins may never matter “in the overall story,” but they still show small “slices” of personality that reveal something new about them.  Similarly, Zenyatta’s lines about his discord orb may never “make it to canon,” but they still demonstrate that “something dark” lurks within them.  

And this is, arguably, both the strength and weakness of this style of storytelling: anything and everything is open and available for use.  You can design a world where a map references the Tower of Babel and more or less imply that “the doctor who defies death” lives there, but you can change this at the drop of a hat.  You can create a robot monk whose abilities rely on amplifying “the disquiet” in other characters’ souls, but then say that his statements on these abilities are not “canon.” You can craft a narrative surrounding three old comrades who have had a major falling out and then leave massive gaps in the explanation for this problem.  You gain freedom, flexibility, and openness in exchange for lore that stands on a foundation as steady as shifting sands.  

It is almost undeniable that Moira fulfills nearly every aspect of these two fan theories: the first of “Evil Mercy” and the idea of her involvement with Reaper’s condition, and the second of “something dark lurks in Oasis.”

Moira is exactly what fans have been asking for -

With all the pros and the cons related to that.

---

In between the first postings of the “Evil Mercy” theory (and Michael Chu’s very soft denial of them) in the Summer of 2016, and the release of Oasis on the PTR in December 2016, a seemingly unrelated fandom event occurred. The large comic book “First Strike,” which was meant to detail the origins of the original Strike Team and their battles in the Omnic Crisis, was canceled.

The original post is, unfortunately, gone now, but bless reddit for having some of the best bots ever:

(https://www.reddit.com/r/Overwatch/comments/5do14r/first_strike_graphic_novel_update_canceled_via/da5z4mb/)

“While we are grateful to the team for the fantastic work they put into it, we’ve ultimately decided to take the story in a different direction.”

And

“In the years since First Strike’s conception, we have done a lot of development on the universe and its sotires.  While the core of this story remains, we have changed and expanded upon how we see the events that took place during the first days of Overwatch.” - Michael Chu

Several months later, in May 2017, Jeff Kaplan expanded on that in a Polygon interview:

“We sort of saw Overwatch really open up to the world, and listening to players and the stories they were telling and what they imagined the Omnic crisis to be really made us second guess what we were doing in First Strike,” said Kaplan. “We thought, ‘Hey, if we go down this path, it really closes all these doors.’”

Fan theories about the Overwatch cast’s pasts abound, and players produce fiction, art and other original content in droves. Although animated shorts and digital comics have had success in filling out the game’s universe — particularly the most recent comics, “Uprising” and “Reflections” — the Overwatch team found that a 100-page graphic novel no longer made sense as supplemental reading material, six months into the game’s life.

“Part of the magic is that everything is not tied off and explained to players,” Kaplan said of keeping Overwatch’s canon less defined. “There’s a lot going on in Overwatch right now where I think that the story in players’ heads is often even cooler than what we can deliver to them.”

(https://www.polygon.com/2017/5/17/15655410/overwatch-first-strike-canceled-jeff-kaplan-interview)

Many fans were bitterly (and rightfully) disappointed at the cancellation - the Omnic Crisis is one of the most speculated and discussed concepts from the Overwatch universe, along with the five main heroes (Gabriel Reyes, Jack Morrison, Ana Amari, Reinhardt Wilhelm, and Torbjörn Lindholm) that it involved.

However, the cancellation was quickly followed by a new wave of creator-fan controversy when a fan asked Michael Chu on his twitter if the word “decades” in Reaper’s hero profile was, in fact, accurate or a typo.

You can find the whole exchange here:

https://twitter.com/to_grok/status/826487157430874112

User:  Thank you for responding. But does that mean Reyes has been Reaper before Overwatch fell? 

Michael: I'll let you draw your own conclusions, but the wording on Reaper's bio is intentional. 

The response sparked a massive wave of renewed discussions on the ways heroes and villains are written and portrayed, both in Overwatch and larger media (a discussion I was a part of).  People were (rightfully) furious with the implication that Gabriel Reyes - a hero in the Omnic Crisis - had actually been undermining his own organization for “decades” under an alias, or that he had been suffering from wraith-like powers and pain for nearly thirty years without any of his friends and allies noticing.  Once the fury cooled down, some people began to toy more with the idea, and the concept that “something had been off with Gabriel” since his involvement in the Soldier Enhancement Program grew quietly among fans.

What was also slowly realized in between the two “controversies” was that there was the increasing likelihood that the “different direction” Michael had originally mentioned in regards to cancelling “First Strike” was actually probably specifically in regards to Gabriel Reyes/Reaper and his eventual role as an antagonistic character in the present storyline of Overwatch.  Despite being “villainous,” Reaper is one of the most popular and immediately recognizable characters in the Overwatch cast, and has led to the creation of hundreds of thousands of fanart, fan stories, comics, memes, jokes, videos, posts, discussions, and ideas.  Previews of the “First Strike” comic had Gabriel Reyes cast in heavy shadows, looking rather omnious compared to the other characters, and it also showed him in his Blackwatch uniform, a division which hadn’t actually been made yet.

In his late February-early March GDC talk, Michael Chu went on to say this quote about the “villains” of Overwatch:

“What’s important to us is that their motivations are not purely rooted in being evil, despite how they might seem on the surface.  As we reveal more about these characters, we want people to be able to empathize and understand their beliefs.  Because sometimes what makes a villain a villain is the extent to which they’re willing to go to reach their goals.  And one thing that we find most important when we’re talking about our villain characters is that there is nothing to say that a villain cannot be as charismatic or more charismatic or as likeable as a hero character - because, like the old saying goes, ‘every villain is the hero of their own story.’” 

The picture during the presentation was of Junkrat and Roadhog, but it was very clear that all of the Overwatch “villains” were a part of this category: Widowmaker, Sombra, and yes, Reaper.

Moira, without a doubt, fits into this category as well, but more than that -

Moira very likely represents some of that “different direction” the Overwatch development team decided on between the game’s release in May 2016 and the cancellation of “First Strike” in November 2016

Especially in regards to Gabriel Reyes/Reaper.

In fact, along with the quotes by Arnold and Geoff listed at the beginning of the post - 

I think it’s highly likely that Moira was created as a direct response to everything that has happened between the game’s release and now.

Moira may be the first true “fan-feedback” character created on the Overwatch roster.

The other four characters that have been released since launch - Ana, Sombra, Orisa, and Doomfist - where all largely conceptualized before the game came out, but were staggered for release over the course of a year.  While many fans thought they had input on Sombra and Doomfist in particular, it became very clear that, once the two heroes were released, they were drastically different than what anyone expected or predicted.

Moira, on the other hand, covers several things fans have been asking for since at least June 2016: the “evil Mercy”/“evil healer” with a lifeleech ability, a lore connection to the sinister parts of Oasis, a Talon “support” character with moral ambiguity, and a “different direction” that permits the Overwatch developers to possibly give more freedom of morality and a wider ranger of plot backgrounds for other popular characters - chiefly Gabriel Reyes/Reaper, but also Jack Morrison/Soldier: 76, Angela Ziegler/Mercy, Sombra, Genji Shimada, Jesse McCree, Amélie Lacroix/Widowmaker, Akande Ogundimu/Doomfist, etc.

However, she also constricts certain “plot ranges”/“plot twists” now - the revelation by Nesskain that Gabriel Reyes was “scared” over his enhancement or shift into “Reaper” is both surprising and enlightening.

(oh look, a Blackwatch version of the Valkyrie suit.)

https://twitter.com/nesskain/status/926674887615188992

Now, it’s entirely possible that Nesskain’s comment means very little to the developers, but he did also write that he is permitted to know the “People of interest. And a bit of story” when commissioned to make official art for Overwatch.

Which more likely means he was given the direction to make Gabriel look “scared” during his transformation process.

This immediately relieves some of the pressure that Gabriel Reyes chose to become Reaper, but it now puts the onus on Moira instead, and her decision to possibly experiment on him against his will (or in ways he did not agree to).

To summarize, the timeline of post-game-release events looks like:

June 2016: Major posts on "evil Mercy" start going viral. 

July 2016: Michael Chu denies the interactions between Mercy and Reaper exist.

November 2016: First Strike is cancelled. 

November 2016: the first few posts on "we need an evil healer in the game" start appearing. 

December 2016: Oasis is released on the PTR - Hammeh releases his first video speculating that "someone with darker science" is at Oasis and/or Mercy is at Oasis.

January 2017: Oasis is playable on live servers. 

early February 2017: Michael stands by his statement that "the wording on Reaper's bio is intentional." 

late February 2017: Michael has his GDC talk - discusses unreliable narrators and “villains” being heroes of their own stories.

April 2017: Uprising is released showing Gabriel Reyes in a more humorous, lighthearted manner. 

July 2017: Doomfist is released, revealing more aspects of Talon.  Moira is pictured for the first time. 

November 2017: Moira is revealed. 

---

What this all culminates in is a rather interesting mystery that connects several dots that people have speculated and discussed for quite some time.  Most surprisingly, the Overwatch developers actually decided to stick to their guns and put in some very intriguing tidbits that point to a combination of both “reworking” Gabriel Reyes/Reaper’s entire storyline and still “retaining” several details, while still meshing with fan desires and fan theories for a new healer.

Moira’s background and her current “plot” are almost perfectly designed to sell a brand new, well, direction for several aspects of the larger story.

It requires several steps to put it all together.

Step 1. Moira in Oasis

“Currently, in addition to her duties as a scientist for Talon, Moira was also invited by the Ministers of Oasis to become their Minister of Genetics, and so she is basically leading up their genetic research at the city - and this [referring to her Oasis skin] is what she’d wear when she’s over there.” - Michael Chu, 11:12 (https://youtu.be/HsJU3PEk9JY?t=672)

Cool.  So now we have a way to tie Oasis to the larger world of Overwatch (again, kudos to Hammeh for predicting that a character like Moira "without any moral limits” on conducting scientific research would come along), as well as expand on the shady and morally ambiguous aspects of the Oasis.

Step 2. Gabriel’s “decades”

“She was recruited by Gabriel Reyes to be a member of Blackwatch.  And uh, during that time she had relationships with the Blackwatch crew - McCree, Genji - they all have their own sort of likes and dislikes for each other.  Reyes wanted someone could help advise him on, uh, some matters of genetics that he was, uh, interested in, shall we say.” - Michael Chu, 3:47 (https://youtu.be/HsJU3PEk9JY?t=227)

In Moira’s lab of Genetics on the University map, you can find this folder in the spawn room.  It is brand new - 

And identical to another “lore detail” found in Dorado.

People have been attempting to predict Gabriel Reyes’ “SEP ID number” since the concept that “76″ was Jack Morrison’s SEP ID number was first theorized.  Lots of people picked things like 13 (“unlucky”), 666 (“the Devil’s number”), and 75 (“to go along with 76″), etc - these were all fairly common.  This writer picked 127 as a play on a holiday.

What the “Soldier: 24″ folder also seems to imply is that Gabriel has been having issues or side effects from SEP, thus retaining some aspects of his Hero profile saying “decades” on it.

In retrospect - 

It’s probably not a coincidence that Michael’s “the wording on Reaper’s bio is intentional” tweet follows the release of the Oasis map onto live servers by like...a month.

It’s also very clear that the Ministry of Genetics was always present on the map, right from the very outset, along with Reaper and Sombra’s interaction about “seeing a friend.”

Sombra: So what are we doing here boss?

Reaper: I need to pay a visit to a friend.

Which certainly played me like a damn clarinet, because man, I fell for it hook-line-and-sinker.

Of course, I was basing my predictions on this next part.

Step 3. “Evil Mercy”

“So, there is a connection [with Moira], but it’s actually not to Zenyatta, it’s actually more of a connection to Mercy.  Um, you know, they both worked together - obviously, Moira’s a part of Blackwatch, Mercy was a part of Overwatch, but she’s [Moira] has definitely taken and modified some of that tech.  There’s some evidence on the Oasis map that sort of hints at some of that.” - Michael Chu, 3:27 (https://youtu.be/CEQ_qDtyRHA?t=207)

The title of the paper reads “Genetic Conditioning and Regenerative Propertis of Applied Nanobiotics.” - by Dr. Angela Ziegler, MD. Ph. D.

You can also find a copy of Mercy’s research in Moira’s Genetics lab, which is is pretty sneaky way to incorporate the whole “Mercy’s technology failed to resurrect Gabriel” into this whole new storyline.  It’s hard to say if Moira specifically used Mercy’s technology (or a warped verison of it) on Gabriel, or if she’s taken Mercy’s tech and reworked it into her own healing beam, but the wink and nod to fan theories about “Evil Mercy” is pretty ingenius and somewhat sinister, Blizzard.

Step 4. A reason to fight

For a very, very long time, there were only two maps that lacked any clear connection to the overarching plot or lore of Overwatch: Ilios, and Oasis.  Everything else had some sort of story tie-in, either to a major character or a major event.  Sure, many maps lack a specific reason for six people to go brutally fight six other people in a parking lot, like...Hollywood...or Nepal... but they at least had a connection to someone or something.

Up until now, the biggest theory was that - well - Mercy might be chilling there and Reaper might be out hunting for her, but basically overnight that completely changed.

In theory, it would be enough to simply connect the map to Moira and be done with it (much like Nepal is simply connected to Zenyatta), but there’s a unique extra detail in the University map now.

This is the other spawn room on the Unversity map.  It mirrors Moira’s on the opposite side.

This is the Ministry of Chemistry logo.

Okay, seems alright, symmetry is important after all.

But there’s...an issue.

Title: “Repairing Degenerative Genetic Structures” with a large post-it note that says “Draft”

And that -

is the Ministry of Genetics logo

along with the title “Ministry of Genetics” in Arabic.

The “Ministry of Chemistry” spawn room

is this one:

Hmm.

I suspect Moira does not appreciate her fellow Minister running off with her research on a very...unique “test subject.”

And I also suspect “Soldier: 24″ does not want his secrets getting out.

And -

as the “map” from Necropolis shows us -

Reaper has to pay a visit to a “friend.”

...Even if she is “the one responsible for this.”

---

And before I get questions about the possibility of a romantic angle between Moira and Reaper, I’m just going to stop everyone right here:

Geoff Goodman: “It [Her Fade ability] has some similarities to Reaper’s wraith form…uh which is…it’s funny how that works out.” Michael Chu: “You know, we obviously - there’s a…there’s a close relationship between Moira and Reyes-slash-Reaper, and I think one of the fun things we were able to do is to sort of hint at some of those things in her, uh, abilities.” Geoff Goodman: “She’s helping Reaper out and is like, ‘You know, I think I could make this better, I have an idea.’” Michael Chu: “Professional relationship.” Geoff Goodman: “Ahaha, yes…good call.” Michael Chu: “You know what I’m talking about.” [Whole panel laughs] - Time: 14:49 (https://youtu.be/HsJU3PEk9JY?t=889)

The tone of the whole exchange makes it very clear that Michael (and Geoff) are emphasizing that the relationship between Reaper and Moira is literally just professional.

And...well...

I also have a username to uphold, so you know my stance on that.

What will be very interesting to see in the near-future are the in-game interactions between Reaper and Moira, as well as Moira and the other Talon members, Moira and the old Blackwatch agents, and Moira and Mercy.  Moira absolutely fulfills Michael’s quote here:

Michael: When we created Moira, we wanted her to have all these connections to characters throughout Overwatch history, through different groups. (Moira Reveal Panel)

And, more importantly - 

Michael: Who is Moira?  Well, most importantly, Moira is that new support hero character that you’ve been waiting for! (Moira Reveal Panel)

Moira is probably the first character created almost entirely from fan feedback and fan ideas, with the developers’ twists, after all.

When Geoff Goodman says that she was created “completely from scratch,” what he most likely means is that the Overwatch development team had no concept of her at the time of the game’s release.  She did not come from a scrapped Titan hero.  She did not come from a developer’s concept.  She did not come from another hero’s background.

She likely came from fan reactions to three main things: the request for a “morally ambiguous healer,” a “different direction” from the original background plot, and a way to enhance the underlying sinister and darker elements of Oasis (if it was not created in tangent with her ideation).

...

So, friends -

Be careful what “heroes” you wish for in the future

Because you might reap your rewards.

(The Blizzard devs are always listening)

[tricksandtales]

Chapter 12: A Family Affair

Chapter 12: A Family Affair

This is my family. I found it, all on my own. It's little, and broken, but still good. Yeah, still good. -  Lilo & Stitch

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

 Sam had spent his night cooped up in the library, just as Dean had said. Cas had not reappeared as he was now on the hunt for a potential earth-bound angel, so Riley and Dean had played video games and drank beer for the rest of the night, then headed to their separate beds.

 Riley had slept fairly well until the early hours of the morning when she’d woken, chilled. It had been unseasonably warm until this point. But apparently fall had decided it was finally here, and the bunker was having a hard time catching up. She had dragged what flimsy covers there were on her bed over her, cocooned herself up and tried to sleep for a few more hours.

 When she finally dragged herself out of bed and entered the kitchen in her pjs, pink pants and black tank top with the words ‘angel’ done in rhinestones (Riley thought this pair oddly fitting), she found Sam and Dean, both fully dressed. It was surprisingly early for them to be so put together, but maybe they were cold too. She shivered again, ‘so cold.’

 They’d both muttered good mornings, though Sam’s was much more upbeat. “You found something?” She asked, figuring it had to be the reason he was happy.

 Sam gave her his half jerky smile, “Yes and no. I think there’s a way to communicate with Michael.”

“That’s a last resort.” Dean frowned down at his cereal, voice still gruff from sleep. So they hadn’t been awake long, but got ready quickly. A hunt maybe?

 “But we I found something better. According to the lore, there’s a tracking spell we can try. Much like Dean’s amulet.”

 “Amulet?” Riley asked, voice muffled by the fridge as she rooted around for the milk.

 “Something I’ve had forever, it was a gift from Sammy.” Dean answered, hand touching something through his shirt.

 “I thought it was protective charm.” Sam offered. “But we found out later it was super powerful charm that was supposed to burn hot in God's presence. We still have no idea why it could do that. But it eventually did, once Chuck allowed himself to be found.”

 Dean mumbled something around a bite of his food. It was probably something unpleasant, based on Sam’s glare.

 “So, you can use this amulet to find the prophet?” Riley asked.

 “Not that one.” Sam answered, “But I think something like it can be made. With some assistance. We need ingredients, and then we need a powerful witch.”

 Dean snorted, “Luckily, or unluckily, we know one of those.”  

 Sam went on to inform Riley that they had called a powwow for that afternoon to discuss what they needed, and how to get those things. In the meantime, they were calling in reinforcements. So the morning was meant to research and get ready, while they waited for their friends arrival.  

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

 It was still cold by the time Riley had gotten ready and headed to the main room. Still a few hours left before Sam said the others were scheduled to arrive. It had given her a nice excuse for a long hot shower. At least the water heater in the bunker was large and strong, so she didn’t have to worry about running out. This was especially important considering the amount of time she’d realized it took Sam to get ready in the morning. That boy spent so much time washing his hair. And Riley was envious of the sheer number of products he had.

 Riley ran a hand through her own hair. Unless she was meeting clients or going to court, she spent very little time doing anything with it. Mostly it just air dried into soft waves. It gave her an effortless look. Which was in right now, or so she reasoned. Mostly she didn’t want to take the time to worry about. Preferring to focus more on other things.

 Based on the temperature, Riley had dressed in layers. Dark jeans, a blue flannel shirt with a crimson colored hoody over it, zipped most of the way up. She’d also donned fuzzy socks, with allowed her to pad silently down the halls. Thus the boys didn’t notice her at first when Riley wandered out, laptop under her arm. “Is it just me or is it freezing in here?” Their heads jerked up at her voice, slightly startled.

 Sam and Jack were at the table. Both looking at her for a moment before Sam gathered his wits to respond. “It is an old building, sometimes takes time to warm up.”

 It took her a moment for Riley to realize Sam and Jack weren’t the only ones present, and her gaze landed on Gabriel, who was sitting in a chair against the wall, legs thrown over the side. Their gazes met for a moment and Riley blushed. She hadn’t seen him since her apartment. Her fingers absently rubbed the mark on her wrist. His eyes dropped to her wrist and he gave her lopsided smile.

 “How are you all not wearing anything heavier?” She asked, turning her attention to the others. Gabriel was the only one in a jacket, but he normally wore it, so it probably had nothing to do with the temperature. She glanced again at the angel, wishing she could steal his jacket. She could still remember the feeling of waking up and finding it wrapped around her.

 “I don’t get cold.” Jack said pleasantly. Sam just shrugged.

 “Mm. Well, I’m hoping it warms up soon.” She shivered. “Otherwise I’m gonna need to get a winter coat. And it’s only the beginning of October.” She sat down at the table across of Sam. “Where are Dean and Cas?”

 “Beer run.” Jack supplied.

 “It’s early, even for Dean.”

 Sam smiled, “He’s prepping for Charlie.” At Riley’s odd look his smile grew into a grin, “He and our Charlie used to be really close. He’s hoping alt world Charlie will be enough like ours that they can be friends. Beer is supposed to butter her up.”

 “I liked Charlie.” Jack piped up. “She was a good fighter.”

 “In the other world.” Sam murmured, answering Riley’s unspoken question. Changing gears Sam motion to the books in front of him, “We’ve made good progress with the spell and I think I’ve gotten the ingredient list. With Jack back, we’ve got the whole hunter network working on this. Ketch and Charlie are heading this way to help us. Cas and Gabriel are going to get Jody and her crew. Plus mom’s coming back. Rowena’s on standby for when we get everything together.”

 “Dean thought we would need more beer, and pie.” Jack added. “He likes pie. I like apple pie. I have not tried other flavors.”

 “We can fix that, Jack.” Riley murmured, “Slowly.”

 “Everyone should be here within the next four hours.” Sam said, a half laugh at Jack’s enthusiasm over pie. Which seemed to almost match Dean’s.

 “Ah. So what’s our game plan?”

 “Hang out, read up on the leads on ingredients. Map out travel routes.”

 “Where do you want me?” Riley asked. Gabriel made a sound of amusement from his perch. Riley sighed, knowing that he was thinking something dirty.

 Sam glared at him assuming the same, “You don’t have to be here yet.” Gabriel only shrugged in response. “Riley, if you want to look for articles and things on this.” He slid her a piece of paper with a couple things on it.

 She raised a brow, “These are ingredients….” She trailed off her question.

 “Yeah.” Sam said, offhandedly, no longer paying her any attention as he was engrossed in his own laptop again. Sam had a habit of falling into the lore and forgetting about the world around him. Jack just smiled and turned back to his computer, though from the look of it, the kid was playing some sort of game and not researching.

 “Okay.” She opened her laptop. She pulled up several news sites and google. Because google was a girl’s best friend. Her list was weird. Apparently, water from where a rainbow falls was a thing. And the water of the four rivers – both waters needed to be blessed by a holy man. Riley glanced over at the much longer list in front of Sam: a human baby's first laugh, fire which has been cried by the Earth, wax which has been made from bees that have gathered pollen from the Garden of Eden, a quill made of feathers from five angels (given freely), various herbs and flowers, and a scroll- with papyrus gathered in the Holy land and wood from an ancient tree. No blood at least….. oh wait, blood of a prior prophet made into ink. Ick. Riley turned to her search, wondering how all the ingredients would be put together into a spell. Clearly some form of writing on the scroll, but how did that then turn into an amulet? Not her department, she decided.

 Quiet settled over the room.

 Riley continued to shiver, though it was hardly noticeable. But it was distracting to her. About five minutes into her search she considered getting up to get a blanket. But before she could actually move she felt something warm drape over her shoulders.

 Riley swung her gaze up to find Gabriel settling into the chair next to her, kicking his feet up on the table, leaning back, eyes closed. His obvious movements were a good distraction, because neither Sam or Jack noticed that Gabriel was no longer wearing his jacket, and that it now was settled over Riley’s shoulders. Instead they’d zeroed in on him for a moment before letting their gazes drop back to their respective laptops.

 The jacket was warm and still smelled like him. As the boys were currently not paying her any mind, Riley took a moment to raise her hands and bring the jacket fuller around herself. It also gave her the opportunity to breath in the scent that lingered.

 For some reason, Riley had become oddly attached to the jacket. It was probably because Gabriel seemed to always offer it as a form of comfort. A thoughtful act meant that he was aware of her and was actively interested in seeing to her needs. It was really nice and gave Riley this tummy turning feeling of happiness.

 In her head, Riley sent him a quiet thank you, and turned back to her computer. ‘You’re getting better at that, sugar.’ She startled a bit at the voice in her head. Hoping he hadn’t heard anything she’d been thinking before. No need for him to know her crush was growing.

 ‘So it does work this way.’ She thought back at him. Because she was definitely not going to call it praying. That was just too weird.

 ‘Bet I could make you pray to me. I’d be happy to fly us somewhere and prove it.’ His eyes were still closed, he was still leaning back, not giving any sign of movement except for the smirk on his lips.  

 ‘Stop it. I’m supposed to be working.’ She thought back. ‘And who’s to say you wouldn’t be praying my name.’ This was getting dangerously close to flirting.

 Who was she kidding, this was definitely flirting.

 ‘I’m willing to take that bet.’

 ‘Not tonight fly-boy.’

 ‘Does that mean some other night?’

 “Oh shut up.” She replied, out loud. Both Jack and Sam turned to stare at her. “Sorry. Internal monologue.” They gave her odd looks but turned back to their computers.

 ‘Very believable, tootsie pop.’

 ‘Those names are getting worse and worse. Can’t you just settle on one?’

 ‘I find myself with a fondness for Rye. Especially when you call me Whiskey.’ She glanced up and found his eyes half lidded, watching her. There was something in his gaze she couldn’t name, but it caused her toes to curl. Riley dropped her gaze and blushed, eyes staring straight down at her keyboard, refusing to engage further. She might say something she’d regret. Scratch that, no she’d probably not regret it. But it was way to soon to be admitting feelings.

 ‘Come on sugar, not going to say anything?’ There was amusement behind the thought. ‘Trickster got your tongue?’

 ‘Trying to decide how serious you are.’ She sent back. Then she closed her eyes and thought of what it would be like to kiss him. She pictured it clearly in her mind, painting the taste of his lips and the feel of her fingers tracing the smoothness of his cheek. She may not want to put words to her feelings yet, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t hint at it.

 Though she wondered if visuals were actual able to transfer through this form of link. Maybe not, as she found silence when she finally let the vision of them fade away.

 It took him a full minute to reply, ‘Oh Rye, you are playing a dangerous game.’ His thoughts were no longer amused, there was something deliciously dangerous and heated now.

 Riley jerked at the sound of the door. Almost guilty. Though she had nothing to feel guilty for.

 Still, it appeared that their little game was over, as the arrival of Dean and Castiel with the beer stopped further thought of flirting. “Aren’t you a sad looking bunch?” Dean said descending the stairs. “Let’s drink.” He hoisted a six pack.

 Gabriel’s eyes were still on her, though they were once again crinkled with amusement. But he made no move to reengage.

 ----------------------

 Despite Dean’s declaration, they did not turn away from their research.

 Instead they kept going, with Dean grabbing a chair and a book. And it was sooner than later that the Bunker began to fill with people Riley had only heard about.

 First came Ketch and Charlie. Ketch was exactly what Riley expected. Charlie was…. Not. Riley knew this was not the same Charlie from the brother’s stories, but it was hard not to compare the two. She thought it must be like meeting identical twins. Then Mary Winchester arrived. Surprisingly Mary threw her arms around Riley in a hug. “Hi.” Riley said, voice muffled against Mary’s shoulder. Mary pulled back, and farmed Riley’s face with her hands. “You’re a cute thing. Dean’s told me all about you.” Mary was more affectionate that Riley had thought her to be. But then, Mary was a mother.

 “I hope good things?” Riley chuckled. Mary just smiled and went on to hug her boys, though Riley thought it strange that Sam seemed to somewhat avoid contact with Mary. And only hugged her long enough not to appear odd. Riley wondered what the full story was. She hadn’t gotten that yet.

 There was general chitchat all around, as both Castiel and Gabriel left, returning with Jody, another woman, and three younger girls. The other woman smiled widely, and hugged Riley. “Donna.” She introduced herself, “Sherriff Donna Hanscum.” The other girls were introduced as Alex, Claire, and Patience. They were not the huggy type.

 Jody hugged her though, and this hug Riley was expecting, and looking forward too. Jody was a friend, and Riley’s first real lifeline in this world. “I’m so glad to see you.” Jody said warmly.

 Eventually Sam cleared his throat and drew everyone’s attention. He motioned the table and everyone took seat, turning to him. “Okay, so think we can find the new prophet with a spell. But the ingredients are not exactly run of the mill.”

 “When are they ever?” Ketch murmured, his accent strong with his derision.

 Sam continued like he hadn’t heard Ketch, “We’re spitting the list up by area. And we’ll split off into groups, go get what we can, come back, and if we need to regroup, we’ll regroup.” Sam started handing out list he’d been making. “Let’s talk about two of these first. Hawaii.” Everyone perked up at that. Usually the team went to small towns and dark alleys, not tropical islands. “So the water from where rainbows fall is actually a misnomer, it’s literally rainbow falls. A waterfall in Hilo, Hawaii called Waiānuenue, which translates to rainbow falls. It falls into a small pool that flows over a natural lava cave.” He nodded to Riley as the information had come from her, “According to the lore,” he added, “the lava cave is the mythological home to Hina, an ancient Hawaiian goddess. So, whoever goes, be careful. We’ve met pagan gods before, not all of them nice.”

 Dean sent a pointed glare at Gabriel, who waved his hand dismissively.

 Sam continued, “As to the tears of the earth, the lore actually says this refers to Volcanos. In ancient times, Volcanos were thought to be caused by the earth crying. And in fact, in Hawaii there are small bits of molten lava that cool quickly and solidify into glass particles shaped like tear drops. They’re referred to as Pele’s tears, who is the goddess of volcanos.”

 “So whoever goes to Hawaii might have to face off with two pagan goddesses.” Charlie said thoughtfully. “Could be fun.”

 “Some of the others are simple. A baby’s first laugh.”

 “I can get that.” Alex said, “From the hospital.”

 “The feathers.” Sam said.

 Dean looked over at Castiel. “Cas, can you get several of the angels to give them?”

 “Angel’s feathers are very precious. It is not a simple as it sounds.” Castiel said. “But I will ask.”

 “Rowena’s probably got access to most of the herbs.” Sam added, “But we ought to get fresh, just in case.”

 “That sounds like a job for us.” Jody offered, indicating herself and Donna. “So we don’t have to go too far afield.”

 “The scroll is harder.” Sam said, “We need to make papyrus. It’s time consuming, but we need the reeds first.”

 “Cas?” Dean asked.

 “I will get them.”

 “If you do, I can work on making the scroll.” Mary offered.

 “The ancient tree refers to redwoods.”

 “Oooh. Cali.” Claire said. “I’ll volunteer for that.”

 “The blood.” Sam sighed, “Won’t be hard to get, just unpleasant.”

 “I will do it.” Ketch offered. Not surprisingly, no one else volunteered.

 “Now the other water. It’s a biblical reference. In Genesis, the Bible talks about four rivers flowing out of the garden. The first two are the Tigris and the Euphrates. No one can agree on the other two.”

 “They don’t exist on any maps.” Gabriel said. “But you get water from the riverhead in Eden.”

 “Which goes along with the wax.” Sam added.

 “I can go.” Gabriel offered.

 “Modern day Syria.” Castiel said. “I obtained fruit from there recently. There are djinn.”

 “Eh.” Gabriel said, “No problem.”

 “Then we need that water and the other blessed.” Sam said.

 “Father Luca might be willing.” Dean said.

 “A quick trip to Malta.” Sam said sarcastically. “But yes, he’d probably bless it for us.”

 “What did you guys do before angels?” Claire said half sarcastically.

 “We drove.” Dean muttered.

 With the lists split up, the team started to discuss routes and travel plans. Dean broke out the beer and snacks.

 The angels took off after the list had been divided up. Riley had felt a moment’s sadness as Gabriel departed, but knew they all had things they needed to do. Still, she wished they could talk. They hadn’t had a chance to spend any time together since Boston. And she hoped she hadn’t taken the whole mental flirting thing too far.

Everyone else had stayed at the bunker overnight, and in the morning they’d all headed out to start collecting the ingredients.

Castiel had popped back in the morning to grab and then drop off Mary and Charlie in Hawaii, Jody, Donna and Alex at their homes. Then he headed to heaven to ask about the feathers and on to get the papyrus. Claire and Patience headed to California by car. Ketch had headed to get the blood.

Sam and Dean were going to hold down the fort.

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

Finding herself useless at this point, Riley went shopping with Jack. The kid kind of loved shopping. There were lots of distracting things. And families. He really liked to watch the families. So she’d taken him to the mall.

He needed clothes anyway. He didn’t quite fit in Sam or Dean’s hand-me-downs. And the boys didn’t know much about fashion other than suits and flannel, so she didn’t trust them to take Jack shopping. She giggled, ‘okay, have to retract that. I should give them more credit. Sam and Dean can dress up pretty damn well when they want to. And Dean could probably make a paper bag look good….. but not the point.’  

While Jack was trying on a few pairs of pants and shirt, she was looking through the beauty section. Sighing, Riley popped the top on allegedly coconut scented shampoo and sniffed. She’d been running low on some of her toiletries and took the opportunity to try something new. The department store she was in had a decent variety of things.

The coconut stuff was placed back on the shelf as she moved on. She grabbed one that didn’t have a scent name but seemed to be a salon shampoo with a green label. She opened it and sniffed, grinning. It smelled like skittles. Gabriel would love it. “Not that I’m shopping with him in mind or anything.” She muttered to herself. Yet she found herself putting the skittled shampoo into her basket.

After checking on the kid and changing out one size shirt for another for him, she wandered through the women’s clothing. Spying a rack of tank tops, Riley began perusing. She laughed when she came across a cute black one. It read ‘sweet as sugar’ in gold lettering, with lollipops on either side. Grabbing her size, she shoved in into her basket before she could think about it too hard.

‘I’m going a bit overboard.’ She sighed. But she didn’t put it back.

Jack finished by the time she wandered back the men’s section. He added two pairs of pants and a couple of the shirts to the basket. “Can we look at video games.” He sounded so excited that Riley caved.

“I’ll meet you at the game store.” She said with a smile. He hugged her quick, then turned and hurried off toward the mall entrance. Riley felt a wave of affection, Jack was like a little brother. She had come to care for him. And seeing him acting like a normal kid made her heart happy. Sometimes, secretly, she’d wish he and the Winchesters could just be happy for once. She’d come to care for them all so much and for the rest of the team.

Standing in the middle of the store, she thought of the speech from Lilo & Stitch: ‘This is my family. I found it, all on my own. It's little, and broken, but still good. Yeah, still good.’

 It took her a moment to shake the feels away. But she did and paid for her basket worth of things, and then headed to meet Jack.

[analogscum]

ENEMY TERRITORY (1987, d. Peter Manoogian)

I don’t often like to bring up social or political issues on this site. For me, and I assume for many of you, these movies that I write about are a respite. When I want to escape the reality of what modern life in this country has become, then I want to watch something that looks and feels as far away from that reality as possible. And furthermore, I don’t want to shove my own social and political beliefs down anyone’s throat. I don’t know what you believe, and I don’t want to alienate a reader on a site that’s about exploitation cinema based on something that is outside of that sphere. Or even worse, you already agree with me, and I’m preaching to the converted, which is a complete waste of both my time and yours. Anyway, this is all a preamble to say that I find it impossible to talk about today’s movie, 1987’s Enemy Territory, without talking about social and political issues. Because, while this movie is undeniably entertaining, it’s also undeniably racist as hell.

These types of movies were all over the place in the 80s, the Assault on Precinct 13, Escape From New York type of urban jungle, ragtag group of heroes have to survive the night with a bunch of psychopathic baddies hunting them down. And yes, it is no secret that New York City in the 80s was a grimy, crime-ridden hellhole. So perhaps it is not that shocking that Enemy Territory does not present, shall we say, the most subtle or diverse view of black life in America. But this goes far beyond being a product of its time and environment: Enemy Territory represents a conservative white male’s nightmare vision of the black experience. Nearly every black character in this movie is either a gleeful villain or a morose victim. There are scenes in this movie where I couldn’t help but hear our internet troll President droning on about how crime-ridden and poverty-stricken and joyless he and his ilk think modern black life is in my head while it was playing. I’d like to think we’d have gotten better with understanding race relations in the 31 years since this movie was released, but all signs point to nope.

Enemy Territory opens with one of those urban blight montages, just scenes of infrastructure decay and abject poverty, while a Grandmaster Flash knockoff blares on the soundtrack. Everything is covered in graffiti. In fact, we see the title itself being spray painted on a wall, before it pops out onto the screen. Movie magic! We then meet our protagonist, Barry. Barry is an insurance salesman, and it seems that things aren’t going so well for him. He’s arguing with his ex-wife over the phone about money problems. Then he opens his desk drawer, and wouldn’t you know it, but there’s a giant bottle of Jack Daniels inside. Say it ain’t so, Barry! For some reason, Barry’s boss is like, ok Barry, you’re a total drunk fuckup, but I like you, so go get a signature from this old lady named Elva who just took out a $100,000 life insurance policy, and collect the premium. By the way, this old lady happens to live…in the ghe-ttooooooooooo.

Meanwhile, we meet a phone company repairman named Will, who is played by Ray Parker Jr. Yes, THAT Ray Parker Jr. I’m going to do my best to refrain from Ghostbusters puns here, but no promises. As it turns out, Will is also headed over…to the ghe-ttoooooooooo, because he has a lady friend there that he wants to pay a visit to. Makes sense, because I heard he likes the girls! Dammit!

So Barry arrives…in the ghe-ttoooooooooo, and immediately these kids are like, hey you white cracker honkey ass piece of shit motherfucker, give us two dollars to watch your car. And since Barry is so white he makes Dave Chappelle’s uptight white guy character look like Rudy Ray Moore, he’s like well gee golly, here’s your money, I don’t want any malarkey! And he walks away, at which point the kids start robbing his car. He’s not even out of earshot. Ugh, whatever, movie. Inside the building, Barry taps a kid on the shoulder and asks where Elva’s apartment is. The kid responds very reasonably, and is happy to help him find…nah, I’m joking, the kid is like what the fuck you say to me you white devil cracker ass jive bitch motherfuck shit cracker ass punk, and pulls a switchblade on him. UGGGGGGH, whatever, movie. Luckily, the building’s ancient security guard shoos him away, and helps Barry find Elva’s apartment. Every single line that this security guard has is about how bad the building is, how crime and gang-ridden it is, how they’re probably going to die because they’re roaming the building at this hour, etc. When Barry goes and gets the signature and the premium from Elva, every single line that SHE has is about how bad the building is, how crime and gang-ridden it is, how he’s probably going to die because he’s roaming the building at this hour, etc. Tomi Lahren probably thinks that this movie is a documentary.

Barry and the security guard head back to the elevators, but oh no, there are a bunch of gangsters waiting for them! Turns out that the kid that Barry tapped on the shoulder was a junior member of The Vampires, and now he must pay, with his blooooood!

OK, time out. This is how you know a white conservative wrote this screenplay: there has never been a street gang like this in reality ever. The Vampires are corny as hell. They refer to white people as “ghosts” and black people who help white people as “blood traitors,” have silly nicknames like Psycho, and do a little salute to one another where they make fangs with their index and middle finger, and hiss. Oh, and their leader calls himself The Count, and the most evil thing he does for the entire movie is break Elva’s glasses. Speaking of Dave Chappelle, the Player Haters Ball would have a field day with these clowns.

However, despite being totally unrealistic and silly, Tony Todd, who plays The Count and went on to play Candyman, is easily the best part of this movie. He takes all of this nonsense about how The Vampires own the night and the building is their castle and plays it with the verve and seriousness of Shakespeare. He chews the scenery, yes, but his presence is magnetic. You can’t take your eyes off of him whenever he’s on screen. The movie gave him a bunch of garbage to sell, and he sells the HELL outta that garbage.

So there’s a scuffle, and both switchblade kid and the security guard end up getting shot and killed. Ray Parker Jr., having heard something strange in the neighborhood (shit, sorry!) runs out of his lady friend’s apartment and helps Barry get to safety. The movie really kicks into gear here, and I’ve gotta say, becomes rather exciting. They keep the pace going, keep the characters on their toes, and I was surprised to find that I started to become really invested in these characters. I know I’ve been giving him a hard time, but Ray Parker Jr. really isn’t that bad of an actor, you could at least say that he skates by on charisma. But anyhow, these two eventually meet up with Elva’s granddaughter, Toni, played by Stacey Dash (who must’ve felt right at home with all this right wing dog whistling). They decide that the safest place in the building is Mr. Parker’s apartment, as he’s the only person that The Vampires are scared of.

We finally get to Mr. Parker’s apartment, but not before Barry has to stab a Vampire to death, which reduces him to a blubbering mess. Mr. Parker’s door looks like a maximum security jail cell door, and there’s a slot through which he sticks out a gun. Eventually he lets them in, and holy shit, his entire apartment is covered in reinforced steel, wired with booby traps, and Mr. Parker himself turns out to be a kooky crazy Vietnam vet in a fancy, weaponized wheelchair (!!!) played by none other than Jan-Michael Vincent. He goes on and on about how he left one war and found himself in another and says some pretty racist stuff about his fellow tenants and is like, you know why I’ve got this pet bird? So that if there’s a gas leak, I’ll know about it because he died first! And then he’s like, you know why I got this pet cat? So that it can eat my food first, and test it for poison!

At this point, I knew that this character wasn’t going to be in the movie much longer. One, because when you introduce a character this larger than life this late in the narrative, then it’s too good to be true. Two, because at the time, Jan-Michael Vincent was well into his torrid love affair with drugs and alcohol. Despite the fact that Mr. Parker is in a wheelchair, his legs are constantly twitching. You can’t help but speculate that they gave the character a wheelchair because JMV was too drunk to stand up, and considering the sorry state of his health today, that wheelchair becomes almost a harbinger of things to come. Anyway, The Vampires show up and almost immediately kill Mr. Parker. But not before he can give his machine gun to Elva. Chekhov’s machine gun!

Barry, Toni, and Ray Parker Jr. somehow manage to escape, and they find a little boy who claims to know a secret way out of the building that not even The Vampires know about. On the way, they encounter the aforementioned Psycho, who has a giant geri curl that made me chuckle, and they throw him down an open elevator shaft, which also made me chuckle. So they get down to the basement, gingerly stepping over Psycho’s corpse, and make their way to the secret exit. But guess what? PSYCHO ISN’T DEAD! At this point, I got very excited, because, holy shit, what if The Vampires…ARE ACTUAL VAMPIRES?!?! If the movie suddenly went in THAT direction, that would’ve been so awesome. But, alas, they just kill Psycho again, this time for good. RIP, Psycho.

Eventually the kid leads them to the secret exit, but its a really tight squeeze, so Toni decides to run to the nearby NYPD building for help. Of course, she is almost immediately raped and murdered by an entirely DIFFERENT gang as soon as she leaves the building, because the movie hadn’t shoved its racism in your face in awhile. Without giving too much away, eventually Barry and Ray Parker Jr. also get out, The Count has an amazing, borderline operatic (seriously!) death scene, the rest of The Vampires are shot at by Elva and her new machine gun (yaaaaay!) and in the ultimate example of this being a right wing fantasy, the NYPD, yes, the NYPD, arrives right on time to save the day. Hoooooo boy.

So what else is there to say about Enemy Territory? Yes, it is entertaining. It is a well-constructed action movie with some surprisingly good performances to back it up. I haven’t even discussed the cinematography, which is easily the film’s best technical asset, seeing as it was done by the legendary Ernest Dickerson, who shot all of Spike Lee’s best movies. I can’t imagine it was easy for Ernest to look Spike in the eye after participating in a movie like this. And here’s the thing: Enemy Territory isn’t just racist now, it was considered racist for the time, if you can imagine that. After it was released, on May 22, 1987 (the day I was born!), the film played in New York City for a week before it was pulled from theaters due to overwhelming outrage and protests from black activists and civil rights groups. Though it would make its money back on VHS, the film has never made it to DVD, and there seem to be no current plans to change that. Which is fine by me. Enemy Territory is a shiny piece of entertainment that rots from the inside; what purports to be a gritty look at the big bad city is really nothing more than a collection of racist dog whistles directed at a section of the white population whose view of other races is myopic and bigoted. There are plenty of great 80s action movies that won’t make you queasily think of Bernie Goetz, or the Central Park Five, or Amadou Diallo. After all, real life is bad enough, wouldn’t you rather escape?

[goodnewsjamaica]

Joshua Henry has changed theater (and a few diapers)

New Post has been published on https://goodnewsjamaica.com/world-view/hes-changed-theater-and-a-few-diapers/

Joshua Henry has changed theater (and a few diapers)

Samson Peter Henry, his parents’ first child, made his debut on the cusp of spring, at around 9 o’clock one morning this March. For his mother, Cathryn Henry, a postpartum nurse at NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital, it was a kind of Have Your Child at Work situation.

For his father, three-time Tony Award-nominated actor Joshua Henry — most recently for his lead performance as Billy Bigelow in Jack O’Brien’s revival of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s “Carousel” — Samson’s birth had the advantage of exquisite timing.

“We were in the middle of previews, and like a good boy he came on the day off,” Henry, 33, said over lunch at a diner on the Upper West Side, near his apartment. He’d logged only 3 1/2, maybe four hours of sleep the night before, but he was energetic anyway. When he realized it had been exactly a month since his son was born, he high-fived the reporter across the table.

 It’s a bounteous time for Henry, who is toppling a boundary as the first Black actor to play Billy Bigelow on Broadway. Billy is Henry’s highest-profile stage role so far, while becoming a father is, he said, the biggest moment of his life. What’s strange, and powerfully serendipitous, is how perfectly that intersects with the biggest moment in Billy’s life, when he learns of his impending fatherhood.

“My boy, Bill,” Billy exults, envisioning a son in his famous song “Soliloquy.” When Henry performs that solo now — in what Ben Brantley, in his New York Times review, called “a heaven-rumbling voice” — he summons thoughts of his boy, Samson: his face, his strong little body, even his cry. Like Billy, he is awed and invigorated by what he owes to this tiny person in his life. In both men, actor and character, something has changed.

If, when he was 15, Henry had been given a glimpse of his future — the Broadway debut at 23 in “In the Heights”; his first Tony nomination, at 26, for “The Scottsboro Boys”; a second three years later, for “Violet” — it would have seemed foreign to him. The youngest of three children of Jamaican immigrants, who attended a small Christian school north of Miami where his father taught math, he’d always been musical. But he’d never seen professional theater and had no idea it could be a career.

“I had fully intended to work at an accounting firm like my mom,” he said.

Then came an intervention that Henry credits with everything good that came after. When he was 16, his choir teacher, Birgit Fioravante, urged him to audition for the school production of “The Music Man.” He ended up playing the male lead, Harold Hill.

“Afterward, she took me aside and she was crying,” Henry said. “She was like, ‘You can do this for a living.’ And I was like, ‘Do what?’”

In an interview, Fioravante said that she’d worried about encouraging a student to follow a path where the odds against success are so steep. “I’d never done it before,” she said, “and I haven’t done it since.”

For a year, she gave Henry free private voice lessons at her house. She prepared him for his audition at the University of Miami, where he was admitted into the musical theater program and met his wife, who lived across the hall. More recently, Fioravante helped to train him vocally for “Carousel.”

At college, he knew within a week that theater was something he could do for life. From 11:30 p.m. to 3 a.m., alone in a college studio, he would devote his nights to what he calls “Josh obsession time,” honing his skills.

“I would just be there with the mirrors,” he said, “and I would play cast album after cast album after cast album after cast album. And I would start to learn the directors, the music directors, what musical theater was — how it was constructed, how a show was made. While I was listening to music, I was practicing dance.”

He was also studying the careers of Black musical theater actors like Michael McElroy, Taye Diggs, Norm Lewis and Brian Stokes Mitchell. “I was like, if there’s a template for me out there, I have to know exactly what that is,” he said.

Yet even as he searched for that template, he didn’t want to be limited to roles written for Black men. And while he willed himself to believe that he would perform on Broadway within three years of graduation — a goal he wrote down in a planner he still keeps on his desk — he wasn’t sure that the theater, an overwhelmingly white industry, would welcome him.

But his timing, coinciding with the emergence of Lin-Manuel Miranda, turned out to be impeccable.

In the fall of 2006, Henry drove a Penske truck from Florida to New York and moved into a basement apartment in Washington Heights. Within weeks, he was cast in the original ensemble of Miranda and Quiara Alegría Hudes’ breakthrough off-Broadway musical “In the Heights.”

The show was “from a world I was from, from a vocabulary musically that was all about hip-hop, R&B, salsa and reggaeton,” Henry said, recalling the production’s first read-through, when musical director Alex Lacamoire sat at a piano and sang “96,000,” surrounded by a company of Latino and Black actors.

“I was having flashbacks of the nights at 3 in the morning, trying to find myself and my craft and wondering if there was a — not knowing if there was a — hoping,” Henry said, hitting that word hard, “that there was a place for me in this business. I lost it. I was crying so much in that read-through. A lot of us were.”

After he did that show, which transferred to Broadway in early 2008, “couldn’t nobody tell me anything about where I’m supposed to be,” he said.

It means something to him, then, to play a classic role like Billy Bigelow. Billy, though, is a dark-hearted carnival barker who beats his wife. Henry is so gentle-spirited that the director George C. Wolfe, who worked with him on “Shuffle Along,” remarks on the rare sweetness he exudes, while composer Jeanine Tesori, who worked with him on “Violet,” mentions his “radical kindness.” He didn’t have many ways, aside from fatherhood, to connect with Billy.

To Henry, playing this deeply flawed man in a show with a famously glorious score is “an opportunity to leave a bigger mark than just the notes and the scenes” — to expand younger Black actors’ notion of what they can hope to do onstage. He was cautious, though, when producer Scott Rudin floated the idea of the role. In a musical that’s controversial for its seeming indifference to domestic violence, casting a Black actor ran the risk of demonizing Black men.

“My first question to him, when he approached me about it,” Henry said, “was ‘How are you looking at this cast? Are you trying to use the fact that I am an African-American man to tell the story?’ That wasn’t his thought. He was like, ‘I want to get the best people to tell the story.’”

That is largely how his casting has been received, though Hilton Als, the most prominent Black critic in the American theater, found another dimension in it. He argued approvingly in The New Yorker that the production — which has a white Julie Jordan, played by Tony winner Jessie Mueller — offers a rare instance of colorblind casting in which thought has been given to a Black character’s presence in a largely white world.

Aside from his ensemble role in Green Day’s “American Idiot” in 2010, all of Henry’s Broadway roles until “Carousel” were written to be performed by men of color, often in stories about Black culture — most recently “Shuffle Along,” in 2016, about the first Black musical. After that, he spent 15 months playing Aaron Burr in “Hamilton,” in Chicago and then on tour, in San Francisco and Los Angeles.

He was playing Burr last summer when he and his wife found out she was pregnant. Suddenly “Dear Theodosia,” Burr’s tender pledge to his little girl, became a song that Henry was singing to his unborn child. A couple of times — on the lyric “I’ll do whatever it takes, I’ll make a million mistakes, I’ll make the world safe and sound for you” — his voice cracked with emotion onstage.

Early in the run of “Carousel,” he’d been singing to his unborn boy, too, tapping into his own anticipation to portray Billy’s in “Soliloquy.” As Samson’s due date approached, Henry’s castmates teased him, saying he’d never be able to sing it the same way again. The first time he had to perform it as a father, the day after the baby’s birth, he didn’t know how he would.

“I’d only gotten like two hours’ sleep,” he said. “You want to let go in the character, you want to let go emotionally, but I was concerned that if I did that, I would feel the actual feelings that I’m feeling in my….”

He broke off, paused a long moment, misted up, exhaled. “Um. And if I felt all those things, I still had to sing the song, this 7 1/2-minute mammoth of a song. There are certain technical things you have to do to just get through it. I don’t even remember that show. I thought I would.”

Mueller does. She gathered with some other actors to watch ���Soliloquy” from the wings that night.

“Because it was a moment, you know?” she said. “I was thinking about him a lot, because I knew he has the most on his shoulders in this play. I was so surprised by how calm he seemed.”

O’Brien, their Tony-winning director, remembers, too. The change he saw in Henry’s “Soliloquy” was so profound that it altered the structure of the production. In the first weeks of previews, O’Brien recalled, he had often been moved “but not stunned” by what struck him as a concert-perfect, too-safe performance of the song.

“The weekend that the baby was born, it was like a dam burst inside him,” O’Brien said. “I didn’t say anything about it. He just started to relate, I think, to the depth of his own feelings, and wow. You know, there’s another scene in Act 1 as written, and we decided we were idiots to do it, because he was hitting the high point in the show, and what did you want to see after that? Nothing.”

So in this “Carousel,” that’s when the first-act curtain falls, with the company’s festive departure for the clambake cut from the show.

In Samson’s life, of course, the curtain has only just risen. And his father — brimming with plans as usual, including for a funk and soul album of mostly original songs that he hopes to drop in September — feels the effect this small person is having.

Henry had always been an ace at compartmentalizing, filing away for later anything he didn’t want to think about right then, keeping the personal firmly separate from the professional.

Samson, apparently, doesn’t play by those rules.

“It’s so weird,” Henry said. “He is rounding my edges a little bit. He’s making me see this is all one thing.”

By: Laura Collins-Hughes

Original Article Found Here

[201908195caic2021]

Hollywood and race – Cinema Left Black and White in the Past, Will Hollywood Do the Same?

“Spike Leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” exclaimed Samuel L. Jackson when announcing that Spike Lee had won his first Oscar in 2019 for the BlackkKlansman . Lee responded by jumping into his arms…It was the celebration of a long-awaited formal welcome into the Hollywood family, the culmination of an almost 40-year career in which Lee had been trying to carve out a space as a commercial filmmaker.

For so long Hollywood has had a race problem, seen all way back in 1915 with The Birth of a Nation and from then on forging stereotypes of African Americans into the American minds. Stereotypes such as the Mammy, the “magical Negro”, the “best friend”, the “sassy black woman”, the “violent gang-banger” which all have little interiority and only serve to further the main plot. Gone With the Wind is deeply embedded within American culture and is arguably at fault for the stereotype of the mammy, as well as the white celebrated saviour; whilst the black characters are racial props to boost white goodness also seen in The Birth of a Nation where heroes are the KKK. The Birth of a Nation is the foundation that American cinema is built upon, a film that screened at the White House, prompting President Woodrow Wilson to declare it “history written in lightning”. It was celebrated for its technological mastery of visual storytelling, yet its narrative is nothing more than racist propaganda. Hollywood’s role in disseminating such demeaning, dehumanized, stereotypical images can no longer be ignored.

Nancy Wang Yuen’s book Hollywood Actors and Racism explores African Americans in films and their disadvantage in achieving roles when up against their white opponents. “Despite having a greater presence, African American actors still face limitations. A significant number of film and television shows have no black characters. In 2013, the percentage of African Americans in more than half of the top-grossing films was smaller than in the US population, while nearly a fifth of these films had no African American characters at all. Similarly, 16 percent— 37 percent of all cinematic, television, or streaming stories in 2014– 2015 failed to portray a single speaking or named African American on screen.” At the 2015 Oscars which was hash-tagged OscarsSoWhite as not one person of colour was nominated alongside, racial tensions throughout the year such as the high-profile shooting of unarmed black men by the police which yet again provided fodder for discussions about race in Hollywood.

After the 2015 #OscarsSoWhite, Spike Lee along with Jada Pinkett Smith and Will Smith, planned to boycott the next ceremony in protest of the whiteness among the nominees. The New York Times calls for representation for African Americans stating; Hollywood continues to ignore the simple fact that people of color want to see their lives reflected in the movies they watch. Representation is not a lot to ask. If we’re going to boycott the Oscars, we also need to boycott the movie studios determined to ignore the box office success of movies featuring people of color. We need to boycott the people who are so reluctant to produce movies made by people of color. We need to boycott this system that refuses to acknowledge life beyond the white experience as rule and not exception. Hollywood has left us with little choice. In the article How to fix Hollywood's race problem from The Guardian in 2016 commented that one could argue that every year at the Oscars is a whitewash – only one woman of colour has ever won best actress (Halle Berry), and only 7% of best actor winners are men of colour (with nearly 40 years between two of the black winners, Sidney Poitier and Denzel Washington). Some commentators, such as Andrew Gruttadaro, have even suggested that it’s not the Academy’s fault that “this year, no black people deserved a nomination.” Despite the lack of representation of people of colour there were a lucky few who made it onto the screens; Idris Elba, Samuel L Jackson, Tessa Thompson, Michael B Jordan and Will Smith. The problem isn’t just a lack of recognition come awards season – it’s Hollywood’s staggering lack of representation across all of its films.

In 1988, Eddie Murphy said: “I will probably never win an Oscar for saying this, but what the hey, I gotta say it … I came down here to give the award, but I feel we have to be recognised as a people. I just want you to know that black people will not ride the caboose of society or bring up the rear any more.” Chris Rock, (hosted the Oscars in 2016) on twitter posted “The #Oscars. the White BET Awards” referring to the lack of diversity, for a second year not one black actor was nominated for main categories. Over a quarter of a century later, we have utterly failed to meet those demands.

Douglas Kellner’s book Aesthetics, Ethics, and Politics in the Films of Spike Lee (1997) notes that “Spike Lee’s films constitute a significant intervention into the Hollywood film system. Addressing issues of race, gender, and class from a resolutely black perspective, Lee’s films provide insights into these explosive problematics missing from mainstream white cinema.” Spike Lee’s film Do the Right Thing (1989) depicts flawed characters, not conforming to stereotypes or the idea that it is a black filmmaker’s responsibility to show African Americans in a positive image. Do the Right Thing also highlights America’s race issues which are still relevant today such as, police brutality towards African Americans evident by the shooting of Michael Brown in 2015 and George Floyd in 2020.

At the Oscars in 2019, Spike Lee is sat where Jack Nicholson was sat, who would notice Jack was gone when Spike Lee is sat in his seat, Lee is a lot more of a statement. What does it take to be nominated for an Oscar? Age and privilege? Race? whiteness, maleness, heteroness — in an industry that privileges all three, after several decades you acquire the kind of legendary status where you don’t stand on ceremony because everyone else is standing for you. At the 2019 Oscars the seats are no longer occupied solely by the old white men who once claimed all the accolades for building the industry. But now taking their seats are Spike Lee, Oprah, Cicely Tyson — not only for their own achievements coming up within a much less diverse industry, but for how they, like so many older people of color in so many other industries, have set the stage for the younger generation facing a less hostile world, built on the work of their predecessors. Remembering Kim Basinger’s speech in the 1990 ceremony mentioning Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing, which she said told “the biggest truth of all.” Whether or not it was intentional, Barbra Streisand’s presentation of BlackKklansman as one of the best picture nominees this year echoed Basinger’s words. “It was so real, so funny and yet so horrifying because it was based on the truth,” Streisand said of the film. “And truth is especially precious these days.”

Though there has been little improvement in films representation over the past decade, television is seeing increased diversity within the Oscars. Three out of the four acting trophies went to people of color, while two black women — Black Panther’s Carter for costume and Hannah Beachler for production design — made history in their categories. As Lee alluded to, this is only possible through changing optics, the slow trickle of diversity into the establishment that builds, generation upon generation, toward a welcome deluge. The result is a new and improved Hollywood that reflects reality over antediluvian ideals, in a world that is moving in the same direction — from politics, to science, to tech, to everything. Indiewire’s Eric Kohn managed to freeze a symbolic moment after the Oscars in which Spike Lee, trophy in hand, asked Black Panther director Ryan Coogler how old he was — 32 to his 61 — before saying, “Man! I’m passing it to you.” It was Lee acknowledging his own legacy in the direct presence of its heir. As he had said during his speech earlier in the night: “We all connect with our ancestors. We will have love and wisdom regained, we will regain our humanity. It will be a powerful moment.”

Looking back at Hollywood movies throughout the years it is evident that the African American stereotypes have been fixed in the American minds. The film industry’s failure to represent people of colour runs far deeper than #OscarsSoWhite. The Bechdel test has been used to measure female representation in films; where two female characters would have a conversation on something other than men. Attempts have been made to use the Bechdel test when looking representation of African Americans and people of colour who talk to each other about something other than their race. Will this test encourage Hollywood to fix it’s race problem?

Guns! Violence! Swearing! Or maybe a comedic character, is this what we think when we see African Americans in movies? We grasped at the rare appearances of actors of colour – we loved badasses including Billy Dee Williams in Star Wars (cape!), Samuel L Jackson in Pulp Fiction (guns!), and Tina Turner in Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome (wig!). But more often, characters fell into tired stereotypes. Hollywood films may present a person of colour but they are mainly stereotypes or just there as a side character as seen in the Harry Potter film series where only six minutes are spoken by characters of colour, in American Hustle 40 seconds, Black Swan twenty seconds and in the Lord of the Rings trilogy forty-seven seconds, but only if you count the orcs as black.

Only three of the nominated films passed the racial Bechdel test, in 2016 The Big Short, The Martian and The Revenant which had representation of people of colour whilst the films; Bridge of Spies, Brooklyn and Spotlight didn’t have a single named character of colour. In 2015, only American Sniper and Selma passed. If you look at best picture winners over the past 15 years, six pass our test (including 12 Years A Slave, Slumdog Millionaire and Crash) but seven do not have a single named character of colour.

looking at these films we see that characters of colour are still in the stereotypical roles Hollywood has made for them. The Guardian highlights that; there are undoubtedly historical settings that might require very specific casting (though the erasure of people of colour from the historical narratives of films such as Suffragette is grating). We’re not going to insist on a black man being cast in Valhalla Rising any more than we would insist on a woman being cast in The Shawshank Redemption. But the whitewashing of Other narratives is an epidemic in Hollywood today.

These historical type films that feature racism such as 12 Years a Slave, even with its horror and brutality, serve as a comfort to white people seeking to feel a distance between the monster that is racism. HuffPost reminds us about how racism is still relevant today; “Progress!” we congratulate ourselves, proud that America has overcome its brutishly violent history. “We used to be horrible people that owned other human beings and now we don’t! We’re a post-racial society now! Go America!” But if we’re talking about reality, the reality of racism in 2013, a reality that generally doesn’t make it to the silver screen, we have to talk about things like environmental racism and structural racism in our systems of education, employment, criminal justice, and more. It is films like 12 Years a Slave, Selma, Malcolm X and more which remind us that racism is still relevant and we’d be foolish to ignore it.

It has taken a long time for Hollywood to represent African Americans and people of colour and in a non-stereotypical way, although now we see more diversity among white and black actors in the Oscars there is still little representation in films. To move past its race problem will Hollywood continue to move forward with more characters of colour represented in films?

[man-creates-dinosaurs]

As promised back in July when the first trailer for THE SHAPE OF WATER (Dir. Guillermo del Toro) dropped my hope for some time now has been to put together a series of posts dealing with this film leading up to its release which I have now come to understand will be Dec. 8th in NYC/LA and most likely Dec. 15th everywhere else. I wanted to do this because as I asserted in my original post, SHAPE is clearly a homage to Universal Studio’s classic monster movie THE CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON (1954, Dir. Jack Arnold) which, though perhaps not widely recognized as such, is a work of paleo-fiction as its entire premise revolves around a paleontological expedition to the Amazon to look for fossils after a single skeletal humanoid forelimb dating to the Devonian period is found. Of course once our explorers reach the fabled Black Lagoon they quickly discover more than just fossils.

Since that time writer/director Guillermo del Toro has openly confirmed that CREATURE was, in fact, the principal inspiration for SHAPE based largely on his rather unorthodox reaction to viewing the film when he was six…

LAT: Going back to the beginning, what was the initial germ of this movie?

GDT: I’ve had this movie in my head since I was 6, not as a story but  as   an idea. When I saw the creature swimming under Julie Adams [in 1954’s “Creature From the Black Lagoon”], I thought three things: I thought, “Hubba-hubba.” I thought, “This is the most poetic thing I’ll ever see.” I was overwhelmed by the beauty. And the third thing I thought is, “I hope they end up together.”

LAT: I kind of doubt that’s what most 6-year-olds were thinking.

GDT: No, I’m a weird one. [Source]

Now my original intention was to put together a kind of historical overview of the literary and cinematic elements which both connect Universal’s CREATURE to del Toro’s SHAPE as well as those which predate CREATURE. Alas once I actually began researching the matter I quickly realized that I had resigned myself to an abyss of unfathomable depth which I have neither the time nor resources to adequately explore at this current phase. This does not mean that I am abandoning my original plan however. Instead what will follow from this point forth will be a highly abridged, limited and non-comprehensive overview of this subject. In other words, I’m going to be leaving a lot of stuff out and I’m going to be doing so intentionally. Nevertheless I feel strongly that what I do have to present will still be of interest to followers of this blog. We’re going to be churning the depths, plunging back in time to locate the very origins of the creature at the heart of THE SHAPE OF WATER.

TAKING SHAPE: PALEONTOLOGICAL ORIGINS When thinking about where to begin with a series dealing with the history of amphibious humanoids the first thought which crossed my mind was that we would need to start with the mermen and mermaids of myth and legend. This would take us back to the very beginnings of human civilization as depictions of mermen can be found carved on the stone walls of the Assyrian city of Dur-Sharrukin which dates back as far as 706 BCE. However upon further consideration it occurred to me that such a trip back to hoary antiquity seemed entirely unnecessary. Why? Because the amphibious humanoids featured in both del Toro’s THE SHAPE OF WATER and Universal’s THE CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON are not mermen. They’re Gill-men.

Now before anyone says anything I am well aware that everyone from Guillermo del Toro on down has been calling the creature in SHAPE a merman. That’s fine. I’m not about to fault anyone for the use of familiar nomenclature, especially when trying to sale/explain a concept as admittedly offbeat as the one which comprises the narrative core of SHAPE. That said I am going to make a distinction here, because while mermen/mermaids are certainly kith and kin to gill-men/gill-women they are nevertheless not the same. This is not merely an issue of semantics but rather one of taxonomy. There are a number of fundamental differences between mermen and gill-men and the first, and perhaps most important, is present right in their very names.

Gill-men have gills. Mermen don’t.

Naturally a lack of gills on your average fairy-tale merman/mermaid should raise the serious question of how exactly it is possible for such a creature to live under the water. But before one starts to concoct wild and elaborate theories about the respirational capabilities of Disney’s Ariel, perhaps we should acknowledge the most simple and straightforward answer to such a query: magic. Yes, magic. And what this tells us is that mermen and mermaids are the providence of fantasy. Their very existence, from their lack of gills to the fact that they are literally half-a-person and half-a-fish stuck together in the middle, is the product of a complete and unadulterated imagination unconcerned with questions of biological probability. To question how it is that a merman/mermaid is able to breath underwater is to utterly miss the point of such a creature.

So then what of our gill-man? The presence of gills, not to mention the fact that gill-men tend to be imagined not as fish-human chimeras but rather as more fully integrated creatures with scales and fins covering their whole body, tells us that they are not to be understood as a product of imaginative magical whimsy. The gill-man is a creature of science-fiction, not fantasy. The gills are there to help us suspend our disbelief and concede that – just maybe – such a being is possible and could exist in our world alongside us.

This also means that the gill-man is of a much more recent vintage then the merman, being the product of a modern scientifically minded age. More specifically I would argue that the notion of a gill-man could not exist prior to the advent of the science of paleontology during the latter half of the 18th-Century and the beginning of the 19th-Century in Western Europe.

In 1798, French zoologist George Cuvier – remembered today as the “Father of Paleontology” – formulates what will become known as the Principle of the Correlation of Parts, which states that all organs in an animal���s body are deeply interdependent and never mismatched. This is an important argument for the future of paleontology as it explains why it is possible for a paleontologist to extrapolate what an animal may have looked like in life even while working form only a handful of fragmented bones. The Principle of the Correlation of Parts tells us that certain types of bones will only ever belong to certain animals, thereby negating the possibility of creatures with mismatched parts; such as the body of a lion and the head and wings of an eagle or the head of a horse and the body of a fish.  Because of this Cuvier likewise declares that mythological chimeras such as mermen/mermaids are scientifically untenable in principal.

However as science historian Brian Regal has argued, even while men like Cuvier were busy banishing mythological monsters back to the mists from which they came, the rise of Darwinian evolutionary theory helped to give birth to brand new ones. Fantasy fusions of man and beast like the merman might not exist, but scientists like Charles Lyell said there were ‘Missing Links’ out there, creatures which represented the transitional stage between man and animal. Today such transitional fossils are generally understood to be of a human-simian nature but this was not always the case.

The year 1844 saw the publication of what might be described as the first ‘best-selling’ book for a popular audience on the subject of paleontology: Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation (1st Ed. Oct. ‘44) by Robert Chambers. Chambers was not a paleontologist – or any kind of scientist – but rather a journalist with a strong interest in science, specifically geology and evolutionary theory. This is not intended as a slight against Chambers. Science has always needed popularizers who are capable of making complex ideas accessible to the public and paleontology has been fortunate enough to have a quite a few such as John Noble Wilford [The Riddle of the Dinosaur, 1985] and Brian Switek [My Beloved Brontosaurus, 2013]. Chambers, in this regard, was the first great popularizer of paleontology. However Chambers didn’t always get everything right. Case in point: Just a decade prior to the publication of Vestiges, paleontologists had discovered a set of fossilized track ways in Lower Triassic sandstone in Thuringia, Germany. These tracks bared an uncanny semblance to human handprints or possibly primate footprints and the initially thinking among many scientists was that they were just that. As a result the track maker was dubbed Chirotherium (“hand-beast”) and presumed to possibly be amongst our oldest ancestors. Then two years before the publication of Vestiges, British paleontologist Richard Owen – the man who coined the word “Dinosaur” – suggested that the tracks were made not by a primitive primate – which by all accounts had not yet evolved by the time of the Triassic – but rather by a labyrinthodont amphibian.[1] As a result of what can only be assumed to be a serve case of misunderstanding Chambers, apparently thinking about the Chirotherium tracks and the two conflicting interpretations of them, put forth the, in hindsight, admittedly bizarre suggestion in Vestiges that mankind had evolved from an extinct species of giant amphibian.

This then is the paleontological origin of our modern-day gill-man. A missing link between the sea and land. Between fish and mankind. And while such a creature never really existed the underlying assertion is not untenable. After all, as paleontologist Neil Shubin taught us back in 2008 with his highly publicized book on the history of human evolution, we all have an ‘Inner Fish.’ IMAGE: Elisa (Sally Hawkins) meets THE SHAPE OF WATER’s gill-man (Doug Jones) with his gills prominently displayed. _________________________________________    

[1] To this day paleontologists have yet to identify the actual track maker, but most now suspect that it was some sort of primitive archosaur.

[atonguetiedwriter]

Nano

Jack is dead, and Kara isn’t. In the split second it takes to make that decision, Lena thinks she’s prepared to live with the consequences.

(She isn’t.)

Life goes on.

(It doesn’t.)

Crimes are stopped, lives are saved, everything goes back to normal.

(Well…)

The first time Winn notices the alert from the evidence room he thinks nothing of it. He checks the camera, looks at the spot with the flashing marker, and checks the records. A crate moved to another section without an updated file. He checks the location (he’s not an idiot), sees the crate, updates the log, and continues on with his day.

(He would have gone down to the room to check the contents, but a giant lizard trashing its way downtown takes priority. How was he suppose to know it was empty, how was he suppose to know something was missing?)

Because things go missing from evidence all the time. But things aren’t normally nano robot mind control devices.

(Cadmus has been in the DEO for months. The DEO only found out after the Kryptonite incident and eliminated Marcus, but this is Cadmus. This is Lillian Luthor. In what world would Lillian only have one inside man?)

A month and a half after Jack, Lena wakes up with a bug bite on the inside of her left elbow. Lena thinks nothing of it. Puts some Neosporin on it, a band-aid to keep from scratching as a voice in her head reminds her that scratching leads to scars.

(She doesn’t think about how that voice sounds like Lillian, doesn’t think about the influence Lillian still has in her actions, her life. Doesn’t think about how some scars aren’t even visible.)

The first time Lena loses time, she doesn’t notice it. She woke up in her office one morning slumped over her desk, an empty bottle of scotch on the table beside her. It had been half full when she’d started. She only meant to have one drink after a hard day.

(A board meeting turning ugly, reports of Lillian possibly resurfacing, Lex sending another hitman after her, Jack, Jack, Jack --)

Doesn’t she deserve a drink (or three? Or four?) after everything she’s seen, everything she’s had to do?

She doesn’t notice the first time she loses time, but it happens again. And again.

And again.

She’s the CEO of a multi-billion dollar corporation with a schedule and workload that would make a computer cry. Blacking out from exhaustion is normal. Totally normal.

(Except it’s not, says a voice in her head.)

(Lena refuses to acknowledge it sounds like Jack.)  

It’s not until she ‘wakes up’ outside an old vault of Lex’s in the basement that Lena knows something, whatever is happening, isn’t from exhaustion. And it can’t be ignored.

She marks down what she remembers of the blackouts, the days, locations, where she woke up, when. Five times in two weeks is enough to establish a pattern. So on the night of the next ‘incident’ Lena goes home. Goes about her routine for bed. And she waits.

She’s nothing if not patient. She has all the time in the world.

(Some people don’t have her patience.)

(Some people don’t have time.)

(-- Jack, Jack, Jack --)

She wakes up the next morning sprawled over the couch in her office, still in her pajamas, and Kara’s concerned face hovering over her. Lena brushes it off, citing work that called her in in the middle of the night for a new product they’re releasing.

Kara nods even as her eyes say she doesn’t believe Lena, and Lena doesn’t know if she wants Kara to press the matter or not.

She needs Kara to go, she needs to check the camera she set the night before.

(She wants Kara to stay, wants to take comfort in the presence of her friend.)

(Kara, being suffocated by the Nanobots. Jack, crying out in pain writhing on the ground.)

(-- Jack, Jack, Jack --)

(But also, Kara, Kara, Kara --)

But Kara doesn’t press. She nods and hugs Lena one last time and is out the door with a promise for lunch sometime that week.

The last thing Lena sees is the sad, knowing smile on Kara’s face as she closes the door behind her. And then the world goes black.

She doesn’t save Jack. And it breaks Lena’s heart.

(Which breaks Kara’s heart, and Kara’s still processing what that means.)

This is Kara’s reality even a month and a half after it happens.

She had held Lena on her couch the day after, waiting for her to fall apart. Determined to be there if she did. Except she hadn’t.

Kara had brought her food, coffee, flowers, every day for two weeks. Determined to be there when Lena fell apart. Determined to catch her friend on the descent. Except Lena never does, and still, Kara waits.

(She hears Lena after she leaves. Lena always accepts the food and flowers with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes and gives appropriate answers in the conversations that follow, but Kara knows. Kara hears the breath that hitches when the door latches shut. Hears the suppressed tears as she moves into the elevator and the sobs into Lena’s pillow at night. Kara hears. Kara knows.)

(Kara wishes she could tell Lena that she understands that loss. Understands the grief that comes from losing someone so close to you when you already feel isolated in the world. Understands this pain Kara would never wish on her worst enemy, let alone someone as kind and loving as Lena Luthor. Kara understands. Kara wishes she could tell her.)

(Kara wishes Lena wasn’t sad because of the decision Lena had been forced to make. Kara is glad to be alive, and is sad that that feels unfair.)

But time goes on, and life continues, and Snapper is finally believing in Kara’s abilities. So she begins coming every other day. Then three times a week. Until it’s back to a schedule they had before, where Kara comes on their weekly lunch dates (days, days, their designated lunch days) and the occasional interview.

(But she calls her. Every night. Calls and texts and talks to her because there is one thing Lena Luthor is not and that is alone.)

(Kara was the one to interview Lena after-- After. She refused to let a more experienced reporter handle something so dedicated, wouldn’t trust any of them with something so important. Snapper, for once, had agreed without arguing.)

(Lena had shown nothing but support with Kara getting her job back but Kara could see the grief in Lena’s smile and hates how her return was accomplished even as Lena says it’s where she belongs.)

Maybe that’s why Kara doesn’t see it at first. Doesn’t see that something is...different.

Lena is shorter with her than usual at their lunches; Lena misses their lunch dates (days, lunch days) altogether; Lena takes hours to return her texts instead of minutes, and hours turn to days.

This is fine. 

(It’s not) 

These things are normal. 

(Sort of) 

These are things that Kara chalks up to….to a lot of things. Stress. Grief. Depression. 

Heartbreak.

(Because Kara understands this, and she wishes she could tell her, she does, she does, she does.)

Kara understands being busy, understands how the schedule of a CEO with a product release rivals that of any superhero’s. So she waits, and brushes off the short visits, and gives Lena time.

Until she can’t give her time. Until Kara’s relationship with Mon-El comes to a head in the worst way. In a very loud, very public argument at the DEO that ends with his hand on her throat and Alex’s gun to his head.

(She doesn’t know what happens after he lets her go, doesn’t stick around to hear Alex unleashing unholy hell on someone who dared touch her little sister so violently. Kara leaves, flees to the one person who has always been there for her. The one person who could make her forget, make her feel anything other than foolish.)

(Because how did Kara not see this coming, she should have seen this coming, should have, should have, should have…)

Kara lands in the alley behind the building, barely remembering to change out of her suit before she’s up the stairs and outside Lena’s office. She barely hears Jess as she calls out to Kara before Kara is opening the door and collapsing on the white couch, utterly exhausted. The tears she’s been fighting back fall free and she buries her face in her hands as she babbles words that don’t make sense.

It’s not until she’s stopped to breathe several minutes later that she notices two things. Lena is still seated behind her desk. Lena is watching her with an almost irritated expression.

“Is there something you needed?”

Kara sits up straighter, wiping her eyes and then drying her hands before taking a minute to collect herself. Because Lena just hadn’t heard her. Hadn’t understood what she was saying.

(She tells herself this over and over, ignoring the twisting feeling in her gut that says otherwise.)

But then Kara looks up, she begins to tell Lena about her and Mike’s very public, very violent break-up. But Lena? Lena scoffs, and interrupts her.

“I’m sorry, I thought you needed to tell me something important.”

And goes back to her paperwork. Goes back to her paperwork, ignoring Kara as she watches her, mouth gaping and wide eyed with disbelief until Lena looks over and tells her, very slowly and eerily similar to Lillian: “You can go now.”

Jess looks up when the door shuts behind Kara. Kara, still standing there wide eyed and in shock and somewhere in the pit of Jess’ stomach a weight has lifted. Because finally, finally, Jess has an ally and it’s Kara Danvers.

“You saw it too, right?” Jess asks her. “It’s not just me, is it? This isn’t like her.”

Kara shakes her head because, no, it isn’t. She looks back at the office, at Lena now staring almost blankly at her monitor and she knows. She understands.

Something is very, very, wrong.

It took three weeks after stealing the nanobot auto-injector for Cadmus’ scientists to tweak the engineer enough to manage the side effects. Whereas before the bots were a switch, giving and taking free in an all or nothing manner, they now acted like a dial. Gradual amounts of control taken. Just enough to influence to influence a purchase or funding decision, but not enough to be noticed. Not immediately.

(Blackouts were an unfortunate side effect of anything over 60% but not every system is perfect)

Three weeks to tweak, two seconds to inject while Lena slept (Lena woke up with a bug bite and thought nothing of it). A day to infiltrate her system completely, and an instant to take full control.  An instant for Lillian Luthor to control one of the most powerful corporations in the world. 

And not a single Super to stand in her way.

[beckyhop]

I watched a crappy anti-SJW documentary today

I may have been re-listening to Hbomberguy’s Measured Response videos as background noise lately, and it inspired me, in between chores and drawing today, to check out the inspiration behind some of his early popular videos: the infamous “documentary” The Sarkeesian Effect.

I’ll fully admit to not having watched Anita Sarkeesian’s videos (making me about as knowledgable about her work as Davis Aurini himself), and my opinion on her is one of massive indifference, though I think she deserved none of the awful harassment she got. However, as a connoisseur of shit movies with questionable messages…this sounds like a goldmine to me.

I know I’m late to the party on this one, but screw it, a documentary shouldn’t feel limited to the time period it was created in. And even as someone who’s not interested in Sarkeesian’s videos, I don’t think that should matter because a good documentary shouldn’t just preach to the choir; it should be able to inform people who may not have any stakes in the game.

…emphasis on “should”.

For a better idea of what I’m in for here, check out We Hunted the Mammoth’s coverage. Also, this is a great opportunity to break out my updated Alt-Right bingo card!

So without further ado, here’s my notes on Jordan Owen and Davis Aurini’s The Sarkeesian Effect: Inside the World of Social Justice Warriors

First shot is of Jorden Owen’s “production logo”

Between the font choice and the accompanying sound, I think he’s trying to imitate the THX logo. It fails because it’s butt-ugly and the “JO42” is barely readable.

The movie proper starts with this quote:

“Our censure should be reserved for those who would close all doors but one. The surest way to lose truth is to pretend that one already wholly possesses it”

-Gordon W. Allport

Time will tell how ironic this choice may be.

The title sequence is a CGI shot going across a goddamn CONSPIRACY THEORY WALL, WITH THUMBTACKS AND STRING AND EVERYTHING. Good job establishing your side’s credibility already, Jordan.

OH YEAH, THAT’S RIGHT, THUNDERF00T’S IN THIS DESPITE DECRYING THE DOCUMENTARY LATER ON. Really, though, Jordan took out all mentions of Davis Aurini, so I’m surprised Thunderf00t’s still in this thing.

Speaking of Thunderf00t, does he always look like he just rolled out of bed, or is it just me?

Oof, I think Jordan Owen needs to get a new pop filter.

Alright, I think you can cut Anita a little slack for forgetting that Zelda was the main character in two of the CD-i games; Nobody wants to remember those, and they sure as fuck aren’t canon.

Bringing up the assumption that Anita’s an “art critic” is some rather flimsy justification for interviewing a traditionally attractive female erotic photographer, Owen. Also, WHY CAN I SEE YOUR HANDS IN THE SHOT, HAVE YOU NEVER WATCHED A GOOD DOCUMENTARY BEFORE.

God, that’s an awkward jump cut. You couldn’t throw in some B-roll to make that cut less awkward? AND WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS LIGHTING, COULD YOU NOT FILM HER IN AN AREA WHERE THE CHANGING OUTDOOR LIGHTING WOULDN’T FUCK UP THE WHITE BALANCE

The hell does Mallorie mean by not seeing female game characters as “women” and learning not to “anthropomorphize” characters, and only seeing characters as a means to further a story? Isn’t that kinda defeating the purpose of engaging in media? She’s acting like video games and all fictional characters should exist in a politics-free vacuum, when they really, really can’t. Taking away a character’s wants, desires, and their cultural implications kinda ruins the effect of a story, if you ask me.

Aggggh, the quick shots of each “social justice warrior” game critic are cut way too fast for me, I had to pause to actually read some of the names and credentials here.

Another interview subject who couldn’t be bothered to clean up his appearance before showing up on camera. Sigh.

AGGGGH, FUCKING FONT COLOR CHOICE, please tell me this is other peoples’ pet peeve as well.

I’ve seen documentaries where you could hear the interviewer’s voice in the interview, or see them actually in the shot, but those were usually done for a purpose (such as making the question being asked clear to the audience), and the interviewer themselves usually has enough screen presence to pull off actually being seen on camera (look at most Werner Herzog docs, for example). Jordan Owen has the screen presence of a mildewy sponge, and I don’t need to hear him go “right” and “uh-huh” every few seconds during interviews. I LEARNED THIS IN ONE GODDAMN CLASS IN COLLEGE, HOW HAS HE NOT LEARNED THIS YET.

Side note, I find it kinda eyeroll-worthy that, when listing logos of sites that have been pro-Sarkeesian, both Gawker and Kotaku are shown. Dude, Gawker owned Kotaku at the time you were making this, that’s a little redundant.

Also, as someone who has worked freelance, I don’t care much for Brad Wardell’s assumption that freelance writers are willing to work for free so they can push their agenda. Fuck you, buddy.

Black Sabbath quote, huh? Man, I’d love to see Ozzy Osbourne’s opinion on being dragged into this shit.

Oh god, more shit lighting, I should not be seeing goddamn artifacting or lighting glares from the mirror in this shot. And could you not nudge the camera tripod a little further down? Maybe fix the focus a little? And why is your fucking shoe in this shot?!

One of the subjects in this interview says that Sarkessian claims that anyone who enjoys media with sexist elements is a bad person. Again, I haven’t actually watched any of Sarkeesian’s stuff, but I think this viewpoint sums up a lot of angry gamers’ reaction to even the slightest criticism of anything they like. For the record, I don’t think you’re a bad person if you like something with problematic elements, but people are allowed to criticize media with sexist elements because how else are we going to progress?

Jordan. I know you had lapel mics on hand for this documentary. I know you and Davis got a LOT of money to produce this thing. Could you not make the sound quality a little better? Because I SHOULD NOT BE HEARING ANY ECHOING.

Was…was that an actual dip in volume? Where did you learn your skills, Jordan, the James Nguyen School of Sound Editing? Also, I had to move my left headphone speaker away from my ear for a second because I thought I heard something in the other room, and noticed that once I did, I could hear NOTHING the interview subject was saying. Fucking…can he not balance his audio channels?

These are the kinds of threats that several interview subjects think Anita should have just brushed off:

…you guys, uh, don’t see any bigger problem with women being called whores or being told to kill themselves over goddamn video game opinions? Okay then.

I’M ONLY 20 MINUTES IN.

“Police don’t just delete records…do they?” Uh, yeah. Sometimes they do. A quick Google search might have told you that.

You know, normally if the audio quality of a call is crappy, you put subtitles on the video. Just saying. Also, even if nothing comes of a terror threat, IT’S STILL LAW ENFORCEMENT’S JOB TO INVESTIGATE IT.

I don’t need to hear every intake of breath in your narration, Owen.

He…he’s actually using a fanfiction of Sarkeesian threatening Randy Pitchford and then killing him over Aliens: Colonial Marines as a talking point? What?! This documentary just got hilarious.

“Why would Anita Sarkeesian…endorse the spread of such a chilling snuff narrative?” Uh, because it doesn’t sound like it’s a very serious story, and anyway doesn’t most of the gaming community hate Aliens: Colonial Marines and Randy Pitchford’s attempts to brush over that controversy? I mean, I think a fanfiction that also costars Spider-Man and the Green Goblin should be taken way less seriously than actual rape and death threats.

Christ, if you’re gonna have lower thirds, keep them up long enough for people to read them without pausing, asswipe.

Wait, are you seriously crediting this guy as a Wikipedia editor? Isn’t that like crediting someone as a clothes-wearer? He also claims to have edited over 1,000 articles which…man, that’s a weak claim to fame.

Okay, so Wikipedia guy says he was trying to point out on the Talk page for Sarkeesian’s Wikipedia entry that there was nothing on there about how she once worked with a pickup artist (he points out this as hypocrisy, though let’s be real, we’ve all associated with people we grow to despise the views of later in life), and he claims that the Wikipedia admins were forbidding him to edit GamerGate related articles. Sounds to me like the higher-ups at Wikipedia were just getting really, really goddamn tired of vandalism on Wikipedia pages for people related to GamerGate, and this guy’s editing attempt just got lumped in with a lot of the bullshit.

Now the Honeybadger ladies are criticizing Sarkeesian for bringing up toxic masculinity and relating it to a then-recent mass shooting. I don’t deny the questionable nature of those comments, but you guys ARE aware she’s nowhere near the first (or worst) person to use a shooting to bring up one of their favorite talking points, right?

AGHHH, WHO’S MAKING NOISES RIGHT INTO THE MIC MY POOR EARS

Why is all the footage of Wikipedia guy so weirdly shot and edited? It looks like he’s trying to scoot out of the frame.

Oh hey, actual context for that “I’m not a fan of video games” clip I’ve seen floating around in gif form. Sounds to me in this video like she’s just too turned off by the video game fandom and the content of certain games to really consider herself a gamer. And from personal experience in other fandoms I’ve been in, I totally get it.

I never thought I’d see a gamer documentary actually defending Jack Thompson and his views on violent video games, after all the backlash I saw against him in the 2000s.

AGAIN with the awkward jump cuts, Jesus.

Oh, is Jack making the old “How can you get angry about THIS sexist issue when there’s BIGGER sexist issues out there” argument? Despite the fact that most feminists I know are capable of multi-tasking?

JIHAD! JIHAD! HE SAID THE MAGIC BUZZWORD! HE COMPARED HER TO RADICAL ISLAM!

Oh don’t try to one-up her in the Who-Got-More-Death-Threats Olympics, Jack. Also, wow, he actually sounds bitter that she got an award for her coverage (even claiming that awards undercut a critic’s credibility!) and that some people actually like her while he’s gotten nothing. Overall, Jack Thompson sounds like a whiny old man who’s mad that nobody respects him the way he thinks he should.

Thunderf00t is claiming that Rebecca Watson’s reaction to being propositioned at 4 AM during an atheist conference was overblown. Dude, in a society where women can and do get date raped under similar circumstances, I think she had every right to be creeped out and explain to men why she felt that way. And I don’t think she’s saying “all guys shouldn’t hit on girls” I think she’s saying “please consider if you’re coming across as a creep”. And let’s be real, a LOT of dudes don’t consider that.

Christ, how many instances are we going to get of a dude in this documentary trying to one-up a woman’s claims of harassment by saying “I’VE SUFFERED WORSE, GROW THE FUCK UP” Like…dude. It’s not about you.

What…what even is this bit of editing?

That’s how this shot is edited in the film, I swear to god.

Hoo boy, are we touching on the “PTSD is only for veterans” chestnut?

Hey, now I know the context of that one screencap of a feminist with bright red hair! And her name (Chanty Binx)! And it…sounds like she was just trying to make a point and was getting more and more pissed off that people were interrupting her? Really, this is what anti-feminists like making memes out of? (Also, she apparently later admitted she got pretty rude)

…wait, what does an “adult performer” have to do with any of this? Jordan Owen, I once again SERIOUSLY question your methods in picking interview subjects.

Okay, the performer, Mercedes Carrera, clarifies that she thinks that women who claim their failures (particularly in STEM fields) are rooted in misogyny are being ridiculous. She cites her own experience in a STEM field as proof. Ma’am, I don’t doubt your experience, but let’s not invalidate others’ here. Perhaps you were just lucky?

Apparently one of the interviewees thinks “mansplaining” is one of the most sexist terms ever. Pfffffffffffft.

Hey, come to think of it, in this section about “professional victims”, do we have any actual evidence that the women in question received any money for their victimhood? Maybe that might have helped your point, buddy.

One interviewee, Jim Goad, says “Do micro-aggressions EXIST in sub-Saharan Africa” WHAT IS HE EVEN TALKING ABOUT?

Seriously, why are so many of these interviews so weirdly cropped? Is this “artsy”?

Ugh, thanks a lot for reminding me of the existence of Shredded Moose, asshole.

Brad Wardell claims he didn’t know anything about the gross pornographic cartoon the Shredded Moose guy drew of Zoe Quinn when he reached out to said artist, and claims that Quinn and people on her side (including Jim Sterling!) were lying about him reaching out to him because of the anti-Quinn cartoon. Maybe so, dude, but you really, REALLY should have done some research on this artist before making that job offer. That’s just good business sense.

Oh, THAT’S why Mallorie Nasrallah’s an interview subject: she worked with Zoe back when the latter was a nude model, and claims that Zoe was a compulsive liar!…and this has anything to do with video games how? (also, not sure about verity of the compulsive lying thing)

You know, even if posting images of Zoe’s porny past doesn’t count as “revenge porn” in the strictest sense, the fact that people are bringing these up specifically to discredit her IS A GODDAMN PROBLEM.

This is the image Jordan uses when discussing “social justice warriors”:

…really making your side look mature there, bud.

Jim Goad compares SJWs to “cell warriors” in prison WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS DUDE ON.

Frankfurt School! Ooooh, bring up Cultural Marxism for the sake of my bingo card.

Now we’re seeing a collage of “SJW” game journalists and their respective publications. Shit, this was produced while Jim Sterling was still working at The Escapist, feels like that was forever ago.

Oh of course this documentary would feature people who hate the Southern Poverty Law Center.

More “wisdom” from Jim Goad: “When I was a kid, if you were a Communist or a homosexual, then you’d lose your career. Now communists and homosexuals are in power and are seeking to destroy the career of anyone who’s not down with their agenda.” OOOO! HOMOPHOBIA! I’m one “red pill” mention away from a bingo!

“Orwellian idea of hate speech”? You know, sometimes I wonder if the political Right ever actually understood George Orwell.

Oh for the love of…

STOP CROPPING THINGS SO WEIRDLY, JORDAN OWEN. Or was that Davis’ idea, given how similar this is to the editing of that Alt-Right Dogs trailer?

Citing Breitbart as a source? AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA oh God, this feels even worse in the current political climate.

I’m an hour and 40 minutes in AND THERE’S 50 MINUTES LEFT, GOOD GOD JORDAN OWEN IS A TERRIBLE EDITOR.

I must not have ever looked too closely at this picture of Zoe Quinn before, because Jordan Owen’s constant use of it has made me realize for the first time she’s wearing a necklace with Sailor Moon’s Cosmic Heart Compact on it.

I don’t always wear jewelry, but I need to find out where she got that now.

Watching a segment on actual death threats aimed towards anti-feminists and Gamergaters, and I should mention that I’m not denying that harassment occurs from the other side of the debate. Death/terror threats probably shouldn’t be the first course of action against someone you disagree with, no matter where you fall on the political spectrum. That said, I’m not comfortable with the whole “Our death threats are worse than yours!” narrative this segment seems to be hinting at.

Wait is…is this how Jordan Owen censors out brand names?

Dude, a blur effect would have looked way better here.

So, why are we presenting the threats Brad Wardell got threatening to rape his wife and child as completely serious, but some of the similar threats that Anita got as “That’s awful, but it’s just how people are on the internet!” Shouldn’t both situations be concerning?

Seriously though, Jordan, thanks for using pics of Zoe Quinn that give me more inspiration to go find sweet-ass Sailor Moon necklaces.

(I want that jacket, too)

Oh NOW, after about a goddamn hour, we get back to Anita Sarkeesian, a.k.a. THE PERSON YOU NAMED THIS DOCUMENTARY AFTER.

Back to the Honeybadger ladies: “If our society were misogynistic…it would not work at all” Hello, I’m from the future-year of 2017, and do I have some bad news for you.

JIM GOAD SAID “BETA MALES”, I CAN CHECK OFF THE ALPHA MASCULINITY SQUARE!

On the #NotYourShield topic now. I don’t feel knowledgeable enough to speak about the racial minorities or trans people who took part in that movement (I am very white and very cis), but I will say that as a woman, I’ve certainly encountered my fair share of misogynist women (who usually justify themselves as being “better” than modern women).

…also, I’m gonna give Jordan Owen the benefit of the doubt and assume that this segment isn’t the documentary equivalent of saying “I’m not racist, I have black friends!”

And the PhD candidate you found to explain “false consciousness” is Christina Parreira, who is first and foremost credited as a sex worker. Now, I’ve got nothing against sex work, but that title seems pretty irrelevant to the subject at hand and just makes me continue to question how you picked half the female interviewees.

Holy shit, what is with this weird buzzy echo in this segment?

Jordan goes on to talk about feminist opposition to sex work and porn, and Parreira brings up Anita’s use of “prostituted women” for female sex workers, but using “sex worker” when referring to male characters in that industry. I certainly won’t deny that certain forms of feminism haven’t been kind to sex workers (there’s a reason the term SWERF exists), but I do think it’s unfair to ignore that there are issues with the porn and sex work industries that really need to be examined and dealt with. (Problems that, admittedly, could be solved partly by destigmatizing women who choose those lines of work)

Christine Parreira goes on to talk about how she broke away from feminism because other feminists didn’t get how she was a proud sex worker. I understand where she’s coming from, but I’d also like to point out that feminism isn’t the monolith Jordan Owen’s trying to present: there’s a reason why we have constant discussions about TERFs and “white feminists” and how feminism really needs to work on its inclusivity issues. It’s not a sign of how feminism has failed, it’s a sign that, like all political movements, it’s still got a long way to go.

And now a serious story about how a sex worker was raped in her home and, despite being informed about it, Anita and many other feminists ignored the story and crowdfunding efforts to support her. I really don’t have much to say about this part except I hope she did get the help she needed (Oh, and Mercedes’ Carrera’s comment about “we don’t get workman’s comp”? Perfect example of the sex industry problems I was talking about)

With all this pointed out, I should state that these notes are being written as I watch the movie, and I now realize why Jordan Owen brought in sex workers to talk about Sarkeesian. However, given that the sex work talk doesn’t start till after the 2 hour mark, it seems really, really odd for those couple of hours that he’s brought in sex workers to talk about a video game critic. If he were a better writer, director, or editor, I wouldn’t be questioning this. Fuck, if he were a better filmmaker, I don’t think this thing would have been two-and-half hours, period.

This is the second time Nick Robalik’s shown up in the film and I just NOW noticed the goddamn pizza box in the background.

I’m pretty sure most filmmakers don’t show their craft services in the film itself. And for god’s sake, WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH THAT ECHO

So now Jordan Owen is criticizing the concept of “gamification”, and specifically using video games as a political mouthpiece. But…aren’t video games art? And isn’t there a long, rich history of art and political messages going hand-in-hand? JORDAN OWEN, YOU ARE A FAN OF SKELETOR, FOR GOD’S SAKE.

Oh and hey, speak of the (almost literal) devil, there’s a quote from Rand herself! 

“Neither am I the means to any end others may wish to accomplish. I am not a tool for their use. I am not a servant of their needs. I am not a bandage for their wounds. I am not a sacrifice on their altars.”

Ironic, considering Rand’s being used as a tool for Jordan Owen’s use here.

Brad Wardell says that he was inspired to get into game programming thanks to Sid Meier’s Civilization and he wanted to know what happens “when that spaceship leaves Earth”. Well, if I may be a smartass here, he could’ve just waited for Alpha Centauri…

Ooooh, and now Jordan Owen gets all ominous as he builds up the reason why he and many others are mad at Anita Sarkeesian, and he describes it as “the unending fountain of rage from which we draw strength” and WAIT ARE YOU USING A SCREENCAP OF AN ARTICLE ABOUT THE PATREON CAMPAIGN FOR THIS VERY FILM TO ILLUSTRATE YOUR POINT?!

WHAT THE FUCK

And speaking of “what the fuck”, why is Jordan going into some monologue about the nature of virtue and morality and the will to live while zooming in on some stock animation of a galaxy?

I’m not kidding, this is an actual screencap from a film about Anita Sarkeesian and GamerGate:

Why is he talking about how we’re different from other animals this is a documentary about video game feminism

He’s claiming that feminists want to take fun and competition out of games. No, dipshit, most geeky feminists I know just want to feel comfortable in gaming communities.

Oh god, he’s comparing them to parasites, WHAT KIND OF DAVE SIM WINGNUTTERY AM I WATCHING NOW

He’s calling gamers “historically ostracized”?! Look, I know what it’s like to be bullied for being a nerd but…I still don’t think that’s the appropriate phrase here?

Oh god oh god oh god he’s claiming that feminists want goverment regulation of the gaming community what is this shit

He claims SJWs who want games to be “better” only want propaganda and can’t see the imaginative potential in games. Dude, making games more inclusive and diverse would, in my opinion, expand the creative possibilities in game design. I’VE LIVED THROUGH SEEING WAY TOO MANY GODDAMN GAMES FEATURING GENERIC BROWN-HAIRED STUBBLED STRAIGHT DUDES AS THE MOST IMPORTANT CHARACTERS FOR ME TO LET THAT ARGUMENT SLIDE.

He’s claiming that people who want to be represented in art simply want to use creators as mouthpieces. REPRESENTATION. DOES NOT. WORK THAT WAY.

He keeps using this animation to represent how SJWs want to beat opposition into submission or some shit and good God, man, you think the Left is fearmongering?

“It is not because we resent the idea of gaming’s expanding horizons, but because we know that there was never any limits in the first place” Except the limits of close-minded execs who only want to appeal to 13-year-old male COD players, of course. But you won’t touch on that, now will you?

And he pulls out the old “If you want representation, make your own stuff” argument. And yet, I do distinctly remember him deriding Gone Home as “D*ke Mansion 3D”, so even if someone took his advice, people like Jordan Owen would still complain about its political agenda. People do make their own diverse works and yet they still get pushback from anti-SJW types.

And a montage of gaming history to prove “how far we’ve come without [SJWs]”. I noticed a clip from one of the King’s Quest games in this montage, which is hysterical to me considering how many Sierra adventure game people refused to work with Jordan Own specifically because of the views he spouted in this very documentary.

I’m admittedly a little grumpy he included footage of one of my favorite game series, Portal, in the “We don’t need SJWs to make good games!” montage

And now a montage of the interview subjects telling what they’d say to Anita Sarkeesian if given a chance. One of the Honeybadger ladies pulls out the “get a real job” line, which, as someone working in a creative field, admittedly made me flinch.

Are…are some of these people trying to psychoanalyze Anita?

Well, if all else fails, Jordan, you could always get a job making overly-long montages for awards shows.

Oh, so you ARE at least crediting Davis for the videography! First of, I think you mean “cinematographer” or “director of photography” and second, holy fuck does that explain a lot given what I’ve seen of Davis’ camera work in other stuff.

Sargon of Akkad gets a special thanks! Another person who would (understandably) break ties with Davis Aurini!

And that was, undoubtedly, the worst documentary I have ever watched…

…at least, until I get around to watching Davis Aurini’s version.

And here’s the Alt-Right bingo results! Didn’t get the bingo I wanted, but I came REALLY damn close:

One last note: in the description for this video, Jordan Owen says "No, I am not returning to Sarkeesian/SJW related commentary." Good, because you suck at delivering said commentary.

[ginnyzero]

The Anatomy of An Action Star

Action movies have turned into big business in Hollywood. Your summer movie “tent poles” nine times out of ten will have some sort of action element in them. They are spending upwards of 250 million a piece on production of these movies alone, not counting the 100 million that they are spending on marketing the same movies. Of course, if you want these movies to do well, that means you have to draw a lot of people to the box office. There are two ways to do this, have a concept everyone already knows and loves and fill that concept with super talented people and/or have a big name action star that people already know and love and hope the star will draw the people. Now, with so many big movies coming out at the same time, there is often only so much money to go around. So, that, at least now, if there is a critical financial ‘flop’ at the box office, there isn’t so much of a cushion to an actor or actresses career. A few financial ‘flops’ in a row turns what could be a rising star packing back where they came from.

It didn’t used to be this way. The action film genre was considered a solid “B” genre and got the low budgets to match its less then patrician origins. If a film ‘flopped’ in the “good old days” it was more than likely the actor (because female action stars were even rarer back then, hey Sigourney Weaver) would just shrug and move on to make another “B” movie. Some of the most ridiculous premises got two or three or more sequels. Whether it was the time or just pure luck, there was a pack, much like the Rat Pack, of action stars that people wanted to see more of over and over and over again, no matter what the premise was and others just, as they say, couldn’t “cut the mustard.”

No matter what era of Hollywood you’re in, there are just some actors and actresses that are put into an action movie that can carry it, while others just can’t.

There is more to an action role than the ability to throw a punch or shoot a gun (or in some cases drive really, really fast). And while some actors who may not be able to throw a punch or shoot a gun can still pull off the swashbuckling end of things and swing a sword. Say what you like about Nicholas Cage, he tends to not be very believable in an action role. It says something that the most believable he gets is when he’s CGIed into a skeleton with a flaming skull. Because at that point we’re not watching Nicholas Cage, we’re watching a skeleton with a flaming skull! And as much as people liked Chris Pine as the young and the restless alternative universe James T. Kirk, they weren’t quite so ready to watch him Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit. Kit Harrington has a good following for his role on Game of Thrones, but that didn’t bring any better numbers for Pompeii. Whereas Jason Statham four years after his acting debut managed to carry The Transporter. After a short role in 1998 in Saving Private Ryan, in 2000 Boiler Room and Pitch Black proved he could act and in 2001, Vin Diesel had The Fast and The Furious on his resume.

So what makes some actors successful in the genre and others not. What makes audiences believe in some actors over others? Because there has to be a certain amount of authenticity for the actor to be able to carry the role. Sometimes, this takes more than one movie for the actor to reach that stage. For instance, Karl Urban wasn’t at all believable as an action hero in DOOM. By the time he hit Dredd, he was more authentic and the audience was willing to believe. Something had changed between DOOM and Dredd within Karl Urban and his abilities in acting.

Well, first off, if one wants to be an action star, one needs to look the part. Male or female, they need to have some sort of muscle to make the audience believe that that guy/girl can throw a punch or shoot a gun or swing a sword or whatever is needed and it’s actually going to hurt. Whether they’re body builders (Arnold Schwarzenegger), wrestlers (Dwayne Johnson) or martial artists (Jean Claude Van Damme, Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan et al) or even bouncers (Vin Diesel), they need to have the bulk or we just don’t believe it (Nicholas Cage.) Women have it harder. Most women when they are chosen for an action role, start training for that role on set. Most of them don’t know anything about fighting before they start (Michelle Rodriguez, believe it or not). Gal Gadot is a rare case of a woman who actually served in the military (Israeli). She gets a lot of flak for it. There are a few actresses who are trying to make names for themselves coming out of the MMA circuit (Gina Carano, Ronda Rousey). These are exceptions and not the rule. Because there are fewer females in action roles, it feels that they have to work harder to be taken seriously in those roles.

Which leads to the next bit, training. Whether they’re street brawling or shooting a gun or swinging a sword, it needs to look to the average audience like they know what they’re doing. Even if the average audience is absolutely ignorant about what it is supposed to look like. (Fencing fanatics can be some of the most snobbish about this. Watching a modern fencing match is boring, I’ll stick to the movie version.) Different films go with different directions for this. Keanu Reeves had it easy in the Matrix. In the beginning, of course we didn’t believe that Neo was to be the one. But he got plugged into a computer and they downloaded kung fu into his brain, and there, on screen we saw the Neo character become a ‘trained’ fighter. Now, of course, we believe that he can kick ass and take names because he’s all out of bubblegum. Other movies start with ‘dump them into a training ground/fight’ approach, putting the character directly into the action within five minutes of the movie so that the audience can see for themselves that this actor has mad skills. In the Matrix, Trinity gets this treatment. Angelina Jolie does this in Tomb Raider. Daniel Craig gets to use this approach in Casino Royale. Other movies take the reputation approach, the fact that the actor has been in so many other movies and they had some sort of action sequence in them so of course they know how to fight or the actor has come from a background with martial arts in it, so this movie will have them displaying those skills. The reputation factor can be the biggest gamble, even with established action stars. Sometimes it’s just not enough to say “oh, he’s got so many belts, trophies or studies ju jitsu.” Because you can have these things and still not be believable in the role. This is where DOOM failed Karl Urban. He’d been in a few action movies before this, but they hadn’t been in fighting roles. He just wasn’t prepared to be alongside/up against the Rock. He didn’t have the training and that insecurity showed in the film.

A big part of it is ‘the stare.’ When an actor or actress looks their foe in the eye and says something witty or ominous and the audience gets the belief that this person actually means what they’re saying and that the foe better watch out because they’re about to get their buttocks beaten. When Liam Neeson looks you in the eye and says he’s coming for you, well, I for one am going to believe him. My favorite example of this is Nathan Fillion in Firefly, where he’s sitting in a wagon in a dress with a bonnet on and he looks the other guy in the eye and goes “I swear by my pretty floral bonnet, I will end you.” This is mighty impressive, not only given he’s in a dress and bonnet, but at the time he’s sitting next to Adam Baldwin, the only guy on set who had enough action movie experience he never flinched when firing the guns. (Watch that sequence where they invade Niska’s base to rescue Mal. Adam Baldwin doesn’t flinch, ever. It’s uncanny.) There is a certain hardness to characters who are willing to mete out violence in the name of a just cause (and sometimes unjust cause.) Not every actor, like not every person, has the ability to look another person in the eyes without flinching or turning away. Not every person can convey that force with a look alone.

Now part of this is hugely charisma. Actors who end up in action roles that are successful often have a huge sense of presence about them. They have to in order to stand out from the rest of the cast. That’s just part of being a lead actor or actress. Charisma is what attracts people to others. Charm, glamour, whatever you want to call it, it is the stuff that makes certain people leaders and certain people followers. (And people like me who are ‘stay out of the wayers, thank you.’ Meaning, I’m not a leader. I’m not a follower. I’m over here doing my own thing. If you like it, good. If you don’t, oh well.) Part of the ability to be a leading actor or actress, beyond picking the right roles and luck, is this ability to attract an audience. It’s the ability to be likeable or at least pretend to be likeable. There are some actors and actresses that people will follow their movies no matter what type of drek they’re in, just because there is something about that actor that attracts them physically, mentally or emotionally.

Because connecting emotionally with the audience is a huge deal. If an actor or actress doesn’t have the ability to emote before the camera, they just aren’t doing their job. If I want to see a puppet on strings in a movie, I’ll just go see a puppet on strings. In fact, there are muppets who emote more than some actors and actresses. Even and actor or actress in the most stoic of roles, needs at some point make the audience laugh or “cry.” They need to elicit an emotional response of some sort so that the audience can connect to the character and sympathize with them. It doesn’t matter if they’re the good guy or the bad guy. They need to make us amused or angry or feel angst. When they stand there like an artist mannequin and say their lines by rote, they missed that part of the acting memo. Sylvester Stallone doesn’t always come off as all that smart, but he can make an audience feel something. John Travolta may be all over the map but he connects with the audience somewhere among the crazy shit. Nicholas Cage over emotes, but hey, at least he emotes.

Of course, there is a huge bunch of things that any actor or actress has absolutely no control over. There’s luck and timing. There are scripts that don’t suck and executives not screwing you over. Actors and Actresses don’t control release dates (authors got one up on them there) or marketing campaigns. And things out of their control can affect their careers as much as things in their control.

Physicality, fight training, and acting are all abilities that can be honed and perfected. ‘The stare’ and charisma are sometimes things that people are born with. In my opinion, being successful at all these things and the ability to bring them together at the right time and with the right project, are keys to the success of those who want to be an action movie star (or just a movie star.)

[cakandivali]

Why tech CEOs are in love with doomsayers

Latest Updates - M. N. & Associates - By Nellie BowlesFuturist philosopher Yuval Noah Harari worries about a lot.He worries that Silicon Valley is undermining democracy and ushering in a dystopian hellscape in which voting is obsolete.He worries that by creating powerful influence machines to control billions of minds, the big tech companies are destroying the idea of a sovereign individual with free will.He worries that because the technological revolution’s work requires so few laborers, Silicon Valley is creating a tiny ruling class and a teeming, furious “useless class.”But lately, Harari is anxious about something much more personal. If this is his harrowing warning, then why do Silicon Valley CEOs love him so?“One possibility is that my message is not threatening to them, and so they embrace it?” a puzzled Harari said one afternoon in October. “For me, that’s more worrying. Maybe I’m missing something?”When Harari toured the Bay Area this fall to promote his latest book, the reception was incongruously joyful. Reed Hastings, chief executive of Netflix, threw him a dinner party. The leaders of X, Alphabet’s secretive research division, invited Harari over. Bill Gates reviewed the book (“Fascinating” and “such a stimulating writer”) in The New York Times.“I’m interested in how Silicon Valley can be so infatuated with Yuval, which they are — it’s insane he’s so popular, they’re all inviting him to campus — yet what Yuval is saying undermines the premise of the advertising- and engagement-based model of their products,” said Tristan Harris, Google’s former in-house design ethicist and a co-founder of the Center for Humane Technology.Part of the reason might be that Silicon Valley, at a certain level, is not optimistic on the future of democracy. The more of a mess Washington becomes, the more interested the tech world is in creating something else, and it might not look like elected representation. Rank-and-file coders have long been wary of regulation and curious about alternative forms of government. A separatist streak runs through the place: Venture capitalists periodically call for California to secede or shatter, or for the creation of corporate nation-states. And this summer, Mark Zuckerberg, who has recommended Harari to his book club, acknowledged a fixation with the autocrat Caesar Augustus. “Basically,” Zuckerberg told The New Yorker, “through a really harsh approach, he established 200 years of world peace.”Harari, thinking about all this, puts it this way: “Utopia and dystopia depends on your values.”Harari, who has a Ph.D. from Oxford, is a 42-year-old Israeli philosopher and a history professor at Hebrew University of Jerusalem. The story of his current fame begins in 2011, when he published a book of notable ambition: to survey the whole of human existence. “Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind,” first released in Hebrew, did not break new ground in terms of historical research. Nor did its premise — that humans are animals and our dominance is an accident — seem a likely commercial hit. But the casual tone and smooth way Harari tied together knowledge across fields made it a deeply pleasing read, even as the tome ended on the notion that the process of human evolution might be over. Translated into English in 2014, the book went on to sell more than 8 million copies and made Harari a celebrity intellectual.He followed up with “Homo Deus: A Brief History of Tomorrow,” which outlined his vision of what comes after human evolution. In it, he describes Dataism, a new faith based around the power of algorithms. Harari’s future is one in which big data is worshipped, artificial intelligence surpasses human intelligence, and some humans develop Godlike abilities.Now, he has written a book about the present and how it could lead to that future: “21 Lessons for the 21st Century.” It is meant to be read as a series of warnings. His recent TED Talk was called “Why fascism is so tempting — and how your data could power it.”His prophecies might have made him a Cassandra in Silicon Valley, or at the very least an unwelcome presence. Instead, he has had to reconcile himself to the locals’ strange delight. “If you make people start thinking far more deeply and seriously about these issues,” he told me, sounding weary, “some of the things they will think about might not be what you want them to think about.”‘Brave New World’ as Aspirational ReadingHarari agreed to let me tag along for a few days on his travels through the Valley, and one afternoon in September, I waited for him outside X’s offices, in Mountain View, while he spoke to the Alphabet employees inside. After a while, he emerged: a shy, thin, bespectacled man with a dusting of dark hair. Harari has a sort of owlish demeanor, in that he looks wise and also does not move his body very much, even while glancing to the side. His face is not particularly expressive, with the exception of one rogue eyebrow. When you catch his eye, there is a wary look — like he wants to know if you, too, understand exactly how bad the world is about to get.At the Alphabet talk, Harari had been accompanied by his publisher. They said the younger employees had expressed concern about whether their work was contributing to a less-free society, while the executives generally thought their impact was positive.Some workers had tried to predict how well humans would adapt to large technological change based on how they have responded to small shifts, like a new version of Gmail. Harari told them to think more starkly: If there isn’t a major policy intervention, most humans probably will not adapt at all.It made him sad, he told me, to see people build things that destroy their own societies, but he works every day to maintain an academic distance and remind himself that humans are just animals. “Part of it is really coming from seeing humans as apes, that this is how they behave,” he said, adding, “They’re chimpanzees. They’re sapiens. This is what they do.”He was slouching a little. Socializing exhausts him.As we boarded the black gull-wing Tesla Harari had rented for his visit, he brought up Aldous Huxley. Generations have been horrified by his novel “Brave New World,” which depicts a regime of emotion control and painless consumption. Readers who encounter the book today, Harari said, often think it sounds great. “Everything is so nice, and in that way it is an intellectually disturbing book because you’re really hard-pressed to explain what’s wrong with it,” he said. “And you do get today a vision coming out of some people in Silicon Valley which goes in that direction.”An Alphabet media relations manager later reached out to Harari’s team to tell him to tell me that the visit to X was not allowed to be part of this story. The request confused and then amused Harari. It is interesting, he said, that unlike politicians, tech companies do not need a free press, since they already control the means of message distribution.He said he had resigned himself to tech executives’ global reign, pointing out how much worse the politicians are. “I’ve met a number of these high-tech giants, and generally they’re good people,” he said. “They’re not Attila the Hun. In the lottery of human leaders, you could get far worse.”Some of his tech fans, he thinks, come to him out of anxiety. “Some may be very frightened of the impact of what they are doing,” Harari said.Still, their enthusiastic embrace of his work makes him uncomfortable. “It’s just a rule of thumb in history that if you are so much coddled by the elites it must mean that you don’t want to frighten them,” Harari said. “They can absorb you. You can become the intellectual entertainment.”Dinner, With a Side of Medically Engineered ImmortalityCEO testimonials to Harari’s acumen are indeed not hard to come by. “I’m drawn to Yuval for his clarity of thought,” Jack Dorsey, the head of Twitter and Square, wrote in an email, going on to praise a particular chapter on meditation.And Hastings wrote: “Yuval’s the anti-Silicon Valley persona — he doesn’t carry a phone and he spends a lot of time contemplating while off the grid. We see in him who we wish we were.” He added, “His thinking on AI and biotech in his new book pushes our understanding of the dramas to unfold.”At the dinner Hastings co-hosted, academics and industry leaders debated the dangers of data collection, and to what degree longevity therapies will extend the human life span. (Harari has written that the ruling class will vastly outlive the useless.) “That evening was small, but could be magnified to symbolize his impact in the heart of Silicon Valley,” said Fei-Fei Li, an artificial intelligence expert who pushed internally at Google to keep secret the company’s efforts to process military drone footage for the Pentagon. “His book has that ability to bring these people together at a table, and that is his contribution.”A few nights earlier, Harari spoke to a sold-out theater of 3,500 in San Francisco. One ticket-holder walking in, an older man, told me it was brave and honest for Harari to use the term “useless class.”The author was paired for discussion with the prolific intellectual Sam Harris, who strode onstage in a gray suit and well-starched white button-down. Harari was less at ease, in a loose suit that crumpled around him, his hands clasped in his lap as he sat deep in his chair. But as he spoke about meditation — Harari spends two hours each day and two months each year in silence — he became commanding. In a region where self-optimization is paramount and meditation is a competitive sport, Harari’s devotion confers hero status.He told the audience that free will is an illusion, and that human rights are just a story we tell ourselves. Political parties, he said, might not make sense anymore. He went on to argue that the liberal world order has relied on fictions like “the customer is always right” and “follow your heart,” and that these ideas no longer work in the age of artificial intelligence, when hearts can be manipulated at scale.Everyone in Silicon Valley is focused on building the future, Harari continued, while most of the world’s people are not even needed enough to be exploited. “Now you increasingly feel that there are all these elites that just don’t need me,” he said. “And it’s much worse to be irrelevant than to be exploited.”The useless class he describes is uniquely vulnerable. “If a century ago you mounted a revolution against exploitation, you knew that when bad comes to worse, they can’t shoot all of us because they need us,” he said, citing army service and factory work.Now it is becoming less clear why the ruling elite would not just kill the new useless class. “You’re totally expendable,” he told the audience.This, Harari told me later, is why Silicon Valley is so excited about the concept of universal basic income, or stipends paid to people regardless of whether they work. The message is: “We don’t need you. But we are nice, so we’ll take care of you.”On Sept. 14, he published an essay in The Guardian assailing another old trope — that “the voter knows best.”“If humans are hackable animals, and if our choices and opinions don’t reflect our free will, what should the point of politics be?” he wrote. “How do you live when you realize ... that your heart might be a government agent, that your amygdala might be working for Putin, and that the next thought that emerges in your mind might well be the result of some algorithm that knows you better than you know yourself? These are the most interesting questions humanity now faces.”‘OK, So Maybe Humankind Is Going to Disappear’Harari and his husband, Itzik Yahav, who is also his manager, rented a small house in Mountain View for their visit, and one morning I found them there making oatmeal. Harari observed that as his celebrity in Silicon Valley has risen, tech fans have focused on his lifestyle.“Silicon Valley was already kind of a hotbed for meditation and yoga and all these things,” he said. “And one of the things that made me kind of more popular and palatable is that I also have this bedrock.” He was wearing an old sweatshirt and denim track pants. His voice was quiet, but he gestured widely, waving his hands, hitting a jar of spatulas.Harari grew up in Kiryat Ata, near Haifa, and his father worked in the arms industry. His mother, who worked in office administration, now volunteers for her son handling his mail; he gets about 1,000 messages a week. Yahav’s mother is their accountant.Most days, Harari doesn’t use an alarm clock, and wakes up between 6:30 and 8:30 a.m., then meditates and has a cup of tea. He works until 4 or 5 p.m., then does another hour of meditation, followed by an hourlong walk, maybe a swim, and then TV with Yahav.The two met 16 years ago through the dating site Check Me Out. “We are not big believers in falling in love,” Harari said. “It was more a rational choice.”“We met each other and we thought, ‘OK, we’re — OK, let’s move in with each other,’ ” Yahav said.Yahav became Harari’s manager. During the period when English-language publishers were cool on the commercial viability of “Sapiens” — thinking it too serious for the average reader and not serious enough for the scholars — Yahav persisted, eventually landing the Jerusalem-based agent Deborah Harris. One day when Harari was away meditating, Yahav and Harris finally sold it at auction to Random House in London.Today, they have a team of eight based in Tel Aviv working on Harari’s projects. Director Ridley Scott and documentarian Asif Kapadia are adapting “Sapiens” into a TV show, and Harari is working on children’s books to reach a broader audience.Yahav used to meditate, but has recently stopped. “It was too hectic,” he said while folding laundry. “I couldn’t get this kind of huge success and a regular practice.” Harari remains dedicated.“If it were only up to him, he would be a monk in a cave, writing things and never getting his hair cut,” Yahav said, looking at his husband. “Can I tell that story?”Harari said no.“On our first meeting,” Yahav said, “he had cut his hair by himself. And it was a very bad job.”The couple are vegan, and Harari is particularly sensitive to animals. He identified the sweatshirt he was wearing as one he got just before one of his dogs died. Yahav cut in to ask if he could tell another story; Harari seemed to know exactly what he meant, and said absolutely not.“In the middle of the night,” Yahav said, “when there is a mosquito, he will catch him and take him out.”Being gay, Harari said, has helped his work — it set him apart to study culture more clearly because it made him question the dominant stories of his own conservative Jewish society. “If society got this thing wrong, who guarantees it didn’t get everything else wrong as well?” he said.“If I was a superhuman, my superpower would be detachment,” Harari added. “OK, so maybe humankind is going to disappear — OK, let’s just observe.”For fun, the couple watches TV. It is their primary hobby and topic of conversation, and Yahav said it was the only thing from which Harari is not detached.They just finished “Dear White People,” and they loved the Australian series “Please Like Me.” That night, they had plans to either meet Facebook executives at company headquarters or watch the YouTube show “Cobra Kai.”Harari left Silicon Valley the next weekend. Soon, in December, he will enter an ashram outside Mumbai, India, for another 60 days of silence. Chartered Accountant For consultng. Contact Us: http://bit.ly/bombay-ca