#Etho should hit me with a car

[touyas-multi-purpose-saline]

wisteria with hari kurono please?? 🤍

cw: Yandere Themes, Religious Imagery, Sacrilegious Themes, Hints of Kidnapping, Use of Drugs / Sedatives, Graphic Imagery, Hinted Stalking, Unhealthy Relationships, Uncomfortable Scenarios, General Dark Themes Not Suitable for Immature Audiences, Gender-Neutral Reader. Read at your own discretion! 18+ Only!

author's note: Thanks for this request! I really like Kurono. This was fun to write. It was definitely a prompt that made me think! REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN—READ TAGS! This was a prompt from "Yandere Prompts Flower Language" and can be found here . I do not condone unhealthy behavior in any sense! This is strictly fiction! Do not force yourself to read if you're uncomfortable.

PROMPT: Wisteria (Long Life, Immortality): "Tell me I'm your God/Goddess and I'll grant you a slice of Heaven."

word count: Approximately 1.2k.

You’re stumbling.

The floors seem to warble, they rush around in strange angles, a flock of birds scattered and frantic, and your arms swipe out for any sort of way to grasp those wings and whisk away too. Tears are streaming down your face, or maybe that’s blood, but you feel like you’re looking into a fishbowl and its fins tickle your cheeks and you wonder if you’re even crying. A stack of books open, their pages fluttering, and you wonder when the epilogue will draw to a close. You think you can see your life on each page, but they’re too fast and you can’t help but feel like you’re hallucinating even being alive.

Footsteps, is that what that is? There are claps of something plastic against the floor, into the darkness, reverberating, and you know that air recycles around you but you’re not gasping it in. Someone is walking behind you, a car tailgating, headlights on bright, blinding, and you can feel that they’re getting closer and closer and closer and closer and closer and

“There’s no point in running.”

A line slices between your brows, splitting the seam of your face, the cawing of a raven. You want to glance around, you do, and you feel like your landline’s been snipped. No tone, no message after the beep. You hope the voice won’t speak again, its odd tenor lilting into bass. Perhaps that saxophone has a blistered reed, and if you focus on the elongating hallways, you’ll be able to hear the trumpets on the horizon, that peachy swan. You know that voice. It’s terrifying, and that reed splinters more and more.

“I’ve hit you with the hour hand, so you’re not getting very far anyway. I’m surprised you’ve been able to get to this point.”

Is it because you’re lucky? Or has he been methodically stalking behind you, watching you trip over your own two left feet, watching your arms flail pathetically, watching you gag, watching you beg with wordless pleas? You know he has. Why are you even asking yourself these rhetorical questions? Maybe because you’re hoping some sort of ethos will nibble on the crux of your jaw, will whisper sweet nothings to comfort you, to tell you that this isn’t as bad as it will be. How long will this last? It’s like mushrooms are pooling into your veins, on a slingshot that keeps tensing backwards, and you’re rocking roughly gentle, and you think that there are hums dragging your body down below the current. If psychedelics steer your body into the ground, will those arrows shoot forward again, cottonmouths, vipers, rattles, and snatch you up?

“This is my fault, I’ll admit that. I should have put a chain on you, but I guess I miscalculated the exact dosage of the sedative. Maybe I don’t have your accurate body weight? Height? I’ve looked at the most recent doctor’s papers, but it has been a while since your last visit. My bad.”

Does he know what your endocrine system looks like too? Does he know each neuron, each axon, each hormone, each receptor, each cell, each threshold? Does he know the inner mechanisms of your subcortical structures? Hindbrain? Does he know how your hypothalamus works specifically? Can he target your front lobe? Parietal? Temporal? Occipital? Even your fucking cerebellum? Has he figured out their coding? Has he found a way to alter all of their functions until the floor swallows you and he can pull you by your ankles back into that desolate white room?

Who even is this man?

“I didn’t want to resort to this, of course. It just kind of happened. If you wouldn’t have run away, you wouldn’t be so… like this.”

How can he be so formal? So fake? Your head is spinning in ways that don’t comprehend reality. There shouldn’t be a way for your ankles to twist upwards, shouldn’t be a way for your downcast eyes to cross backwards and forwards, shouldn’t be a way for your heart to shred into two before reforming into loops. You just want a name—you just want a name.

“Hurting you wasn’t a priority. I wanted more than this. I wanted it to be easy, but you’re making it kind of difficult. But I’m sure you can already tell that.”

Just keep going, even if the slick underneath the soles of your feet, the jelly and jams of snails, trails behind you like vomit and spittle and slows you down. You can do this, you can get out of here. The darkness doesn’t want to swallow you, doesn’t want its throat to constrict around your shuddering frame, the refocusing of a camera lens, the click, the growling technology.

“Sigh. Listen, listen to me genuinely. You don’t have to be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you… again.”

The jelly turns into gum, turns into plasters that rip off your follicles, peel at your skin, residue on a windshield. It’s getting harder to breathe, but maybe that’s the extra poison he stabbed into you whenever you slipped underneath his legs. You shouldn’t have, shouldn’t have hit your knees to the floor and crawled, shouldn’t have barreled, back slamming against the ground, rattling your skull, just to escape him. That needle was sharp, that arrow was sharp.

“All I want is for this to be perfect. Tell me I’m your God and I’ll grant you a slice of Heaven.”

Insane, he’s so insane. He can’t be there in the head. Whatever verses, whatever psalms, whatever dead sea scrolls, whatever avesta, whatever sacred texts he’s built this foundation upon are just words on a page. Maybe it’s what he wants, maybe there’s a reason, maybe that’s why your knees wobble and give out. That’s why the balls of your palms ache whenever your nails clatter to the floor.

There are worms wriggling around the edges of your vision, dancing, singing, laughing, rejoicing, hallelujah, hallelujah. And you can’t focus on the sound of his approaching footsteps, the drumbeats, the way your ears hear whistles and bells, the way the floor grows hotter and hotter, melting oil and broiling lakes, and you feel like those cloudy acres shift into burning flames. He’s almost here, imminent domain.

“Will you love me like I ask?”

You can’t respond, the words are glue and bondage taped around your throbbing tongue. Maybe you were never crying, maybe that’s why drool is seeping from your ducts, maybe the romans were right. There’s a tourniquet in your body that loses its threads, and your side collapses, the puzzle pieces of the tiles filled with hymns and sins.

He stops. Your eyes are blurry whenever you slowly turn your head. Those lava gray locks are snakes swaying in the wind, those piercingly cold eyes. There’s a memory in your head, a face behind fencing, something tucked away, a name, a person, recognition. But that won’t save you now.

“Because, you know, it’s not like you have much of a choice.”

[theladyragnell]

11, 12, 13 and 16 for the bookses please!!!

I'm putting most of these under a cut both because I'm wordy and because you asked all the Hot Take Questions!

What was your favorite book that has been out for a while, but you just now read?

So much recency bias in my reading! I did read some older works, though, and I think I'll shout out The Summer Prince by Alaya Dawn Johnson, a 2013 release, which I picked up because I had a "set south of the equator" square on my book bingo card. It's a dystopian future set in Brazil, YA, with characters who are allowed to be as fucked up as they would be under the circumstances. Quite dark! Shared a few worldbuilding overlaps with Robinson's Mars Trilogy but came at them from a perspective I liked more.

Any books that disappointed you?

Oh, always, yes, but often not the book's fault? For instance, I really want to like epic doorstopper fantasy but I simply don't, which means however much I want to love Sherwood Smith's books that aren't Crown Duel, A Sword Named Truth wasn't to my taste. And while I really loved The Hands of the Emperor when I read it, the rest of my Goddard reading has been very hit-or-miss, in ways that are more about my taste than about her being inconsistent.

Oh, no, okay: Lavender's Blue by Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer. I was beyond delighted to have a new Crusie in my hands at last, after YEARS, but there's too much Mayer in this one. I don't like his work, I don't like the cop love interest. It was awful reading a book with the right banter and the right zany background characters and just wholly the wrong ethos. Ma'am, you used to write about charming confolk! Why are you sanctioning a cop who shoots teens' car tires out!!!

And, unfortunately, Of Fire and Stars by Audrey Coulthurst, too much Not Like Other Girls there for me.

What were your least favorite books of the year?

Well, see above, to start. I'm simply not the audience for The Friend by Sigrid Nunez, the literary genre and I aren't friends, but I had to read a National Book Award prize winner for book bingo, so I cordially destested my way through that. (Well-written! Just not for me.) Unfortunately, despite this being my Year Of Tamora Pierce, Tempests and Slaughter hits this for me. It breaks the characters and the worldbuilding in so many ways that made it impossible to like for me.

And last, I am NOT going to call out specific things here, because it doesn't seem fair to critique less-well-known authors whose products I read for free, but just for completeness, I signed up for a fantasy romance advent thing, where for the first 24 days of December I got a free indie/self-pub fantasy romance, anything from a short story to a novel, and while I found a few fun ones in there (though I'd already read and adored Casey Blair's The Sorceress Transcendent and if you like tumblr's favorite trope of showing up on your enemy's doorstep saying you didn't know where else to go you should read it), overall the selection wasn't particularly to my taste. I am glad to have looked at them, and have a few more I want to read, but alas, there seem to be a few different areas of the subgenre, and this selection largely came from the ones that don't interest me.

What is the most over-hyped book you read this year?

Ohhhhhh, I'm about to get canceled. I am so sorry, everyone, and I reassure you all that I did like Piranesi very much. But I did not really like Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell. It wasn't BAD by any stretch of the imagination, to be clear! Over-hyped doesn't mean something is bad! Just that I'd been prepared by the general tone of people's discussion of it to be bowled over, and I spent sort of a lot of time checking the remaining page count.

[dkehoe]

Are you gearing up for a vacation this summer? There are some great book releases in June, just in time for you to grab one or two and take them with you! These are the books I’m really looking forward to reading. #5 BOOK RELEASE If you like romances with a hint of magic you should pick up an Ashley Poston novel. Most recently she’s had big hits with The Dead Romantics and The Seven Year Slip. A Novel Love Story’s synopsis seems to fit this magical realism genre. I can’t wait to sit on a beach and dip into this book! Synopsis: Eileen Merriweather loves to get lost in a good happily-ever-after. The fictional kind, anyway. Because at least imaginary men don’t leave you at the altar. She feels safe in a book. At home. Which might be why she’s so set on going her annual book club retreat this year—she needs good friends, cheap wine, and grand romantic gestures—no matter what. But when her car unexpectedly breaks down on the way, she finds herself stranded in a quaint town that feels like it’s right out of a novel… Because it is. This place can’t be real, and yet… she’s here, in Eloraton, the town of her favorite romance series, where the candy store’s honey taffy is always sweet, the local bar’s burgers are always a little burnt, and rain always comes in the afternoon. It feels like home. It’s perfect—and perfectly frozen, trapped in the late author’s last unfinished story. Elsy is sure that’s why she must be here: to help bring the town to its storybook ending. Except there is a character in Eloraton that she can’t place—a grumpy bookstore owner with mint-green eyes, an irritatingly sexy mouth and impeccable taste in novels. And he does not want her finishing this book. Which is a problem because Elsy is beginning to think the town’s happily-ever-after might just be intertwined with her own. Click this link to purchase this book!* A Novel Love Story #4 BOOK RELEASE The best-selling author of The Sun is Also a Star and Everything Everything, Nicola Yoon’s newest novel One Of Our Kind gives me a ‘something’s wrong in the burbs’ vibe. Synopisis: Jasmyn and King Williams move their family to the planned Black utopia of Liberty, California hoping to find a community of like-minded people, a place where their growing family can thrive. King settles in at once, embracing the Liberty ethos, including the luxe wellness center at the top of the hill, which proves to be the heart of the community. But Jasmyn struggles to find her place. She expected to find liberals and social justice activists striving for racial equality, but Liberty residents seem more focused on booking spa treatments and ignoring the world’s troubles. Jasmyn’s only friends in the community are equally perplexed and frustrated by most residents’ outlook. Then Jasmyn discovers a terrible secret about Liberty and its founders. Frustration turns to dread as their loved ones start embracing the Liberty way of life. Will the truth destroy her world in ways she never could have imagined? Thrilling with insightful social commentary, One of Our Kind explores the ways in which freedom is complicated by the presumptions we make about ourselves and each other. Click this link to purchase this book!* One Of Our Kind *Amazon associate- if you purchase a book through one of these links I’ll receive a small stipend. #3 BOOK RELEASE I was lucky enough to receive an arc of this novel and enjoyed it tremendously. Another women in STEM romance with sizzling heat and intellectual smarts. Great characters and plot too! Synopsis: Rue Siebert might not have it all, but she has enough: a few friends she can always count on, the financial stability she yearned for as a kid, and a successful career as a biotech engineer at Kline, one of the most promising start-ups in the field of food science. Her world is stable, pleasant, and hard-fought. Until a hostile takeover and its offensively attractive front man threatens to bring it all crumbling down. Eli Killgore and his business partners want ...

[karimac]

…in the details, Part 3

A/N: Warning for this series: 18+ audience (minors DNI), some cinematic level violence, some fluff and angst. Doubt that smut will be involved, but it may be implied. I’ll make sure that is noted clearly if it pops up.

All relationships, at this point anyway, are platonic.

Please do not repost or translate my work. Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

A bit about the OC Kari

Part 1

Part 2

All mistakes are my own.

Word count: 3,556

Well, that was not exactly the best idea, was it?

Dr. Darcy Lewis, unlike her colleague, Dr. Erik Selvig, was not a big fan nor an authority on any form of mythology. And the Irish history ask was a longshot at best.

So, here you were, in the coffee shop smack dab in the middle of Westview, talking to Dr. Lewis and getting nowhere fast.

“And, that’s not happening,” the astrophysicist grumbled as she set down her phone and took another sip of her beverage. It was some weirdly sweet concoction that looked like what humans thought rainbow-colored unicorn poop looked like. This world was not ready for what real magical beasts looked like. Most authors had not gotten all of that right in their books. No surprise there. No human really needed to see such things on a daily basis, and whoever had been the muses for those authors had covered up a lot.

“I take it Dr. Selvig has no clue on the Celtic Pantheon?” you asked as you sipped your very boring, light, non-sweet hot coffee. The barista probably wanted to laugh when you ordered it, but he did his best to stifle his snicker. “It was a very long reach on my part, Dr. Lewis. I’m sorry I roped you into this.”

“You can call me Darcy because you actually acknowledge my academic status,” the brunette said as she flipped her phone over again. “So, Thor is off in space. You don’t want me calling Falcon or his pal with the metal arm. Captain Marvel isn’t on your contact list. Ant Man and The Wasp? They can be sort of science geeks, right? Wait. Banner? Is he OK to call?”

Before you could open your mouth, Darcy was texting Banner off her own phone. “You know Bruce?”

“I met him at some meet and greet at MIT before the world went poof,” Darcy replied as she set her phone back down and seemed to be praying Banner would actually return her text. “Stark was there, too, but Banner was the one I got coffee with. Sweet guy, you know, even if he gets all green sometimes.”

As you sipped your coffee, you noticed a few people giving you odd looks. It made you very nervous. “Maybe we should finish up and get back on the road?” you asked Darcy as you quietly motioned toward the other patrons getting their daily fix of caffeine.

“Yeah, bubbe isn’t answering me anyway,” Darcy said as she picked up her phone and got up from her chair. By now there were several residents blocking the exit. “What is your problem? We paid. We’re busing our table. Then we’re leaving.”

“Are The Avengers going to hunt her down?” one woman in the back of the group asked as Darcy looked back toward you and mouthed the word “Help” before turning back to the crowd. The questioner was loud, but you couldn’t see her because of the big delivery man standing in front of her with a huge pile of Amazon packages. “Why did you come back?”

It was time to vamp. With an apparently faulty memory, this was going to be interesting.

“Before you all ask about what is going to happen regarding Wanda Maximoff, I want you all to know I have no authority to speak for The Avengers. I have never been a true member of the team. I helped them at a time when things were beyond bleak for this world. It was an honor and a privilege. But I am not a spokesperson. I am not a team leader.”

“Then why did you come here?” a man with glasses, holding a briefcase, asked from the line where he was waiting for his order. “Then and now?”

“I came the first time because I was looking for my friend. I was pulled into that nightmare just like you were. I wish I had been able to help her before any of this happened.”

“But you have powers, right? Couldn’t you have shut her down, hot stuff?” the first woman added as she moved to the front. Then you recognized her. Agatha Harkness. If Wanda kept her alive, there was a reason for it, and all the pain you had rising in your core had to be tamped down fast. Harkness had hurt Wanda, and that would have to be addressed one day. You were good at playing the long game.

“Taking her out in any sort of power stunt could have jeopardized your lives. I was not sure what she did to make it all happen, and I was not going to risk your lives. I’m sorry it wasn’t put to an end sooner. Now, if you will excuse us, we need to get to a meeting regarding the incident here,” you said as you and Darcy pushed through the crowd and back out to the street.

“OK, what was all that? Spin? Or are you remembering something?” Darcy asked as you got back into her car. You had left your rental on the outskirts of town. Better to travel as a unit until your business here was concluded.

“I remember a couple of things from that mess,” you said as you tried to keep your hands from shaking. “I remember Wanda and Vision’s sons. Billy and Tommy. I remember the house where I lived. Can we drive out to where Wanda had her house? Maybe that will help?”

Darcy pulled out of the parking space and made the lefts and rights to the lot where Wanda’s house had been. The one you were living in was in a lot right next to it. It was empty now, too, but you got out of the car anyway and stood in the center of the patch of dirt. You closed your eyes and held your breath as you tried to piece together what had happened. And then you started to cry as you fell to your knees.

“Whoa, slow down,” Darcy said as she ran and knelt beside you. “What did you see?”

“It’s weird. Wanda came over one day and more or less apologized to me because she couldn’t give me my real happy ending. I can show you, if you’ll let me…”

“Go into my mind?” Darcy protested before you could wave her off the idea. “No Vulcan mind melds for me today, thanks.”

“No, I carry this mirror, and you can see memories in it. Trust me, I do not use telepathy as a first line of anything. I tried it once, to help a friend, but it just caused more problems,” you groaned as you pulled the mirror out of your backpack. You waved your hand over it, and Darcy could now see what had happened with Wanda.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find them and bring them here,” the Sokovian said quietly as she walked around the 1980s version of what was your living room. It was way too pastel for your liking, but the hints of fuchsia, orchid and teal in the overall cream and light gray design weren’t so bad. You had a couple of cats there with you. One was an orange tabby with a penchant for eating tuna at any given moment. He was warm and affectionate and just a ray of sunshine dressed in fur. The other was as white as the driven snow, but his own cuddly disposition came through. He was the one who would leave you weird gifts every morning. Rocks, feathers, and yes, the occasional dead mouse would be at the foot of your bed each sunrise. You’d find out at the end of that nightmare that the cats were only constructs of Wanda’s chaos magic.

“I know you miss the three of them,” she continued as she pointed to a framed picture of Steve, Bucky and Sam, all decked out in appropriate 1980s clothes that made them look like they ran away from some cop drama. “It’s probably better that there aren’t too many Avengers here anyway. Vis is getting concerned. And this way, well, no one needs to know which one you would have chosen. I know. You know. So you can always talk to me. Like we did before. But I gave you the wedding ring to make sure no one came on to you. Just in case I can get him here soon.”

As you showed Darcy the memory, a tiny part of you was screaming that this whole scenario seemed wrong. You watched Wanda’s crimson glow float around you as she spoke. You vaguely remembered The Morrigan trying to kick some sense back into your addled brain, but Wanda’s world was much too enticing to let your other self come to the fore. You wanted the damned happily ever after with the husband and the house and everything that meant in the modern American ethos. You had rationalized things for years in such a way that you’d never let yourself get it. That was why no one was here to hug you at night like Wanda had Vision. Maybe that fact alone was enough to crack Wanda’s hold on you a bit more than she realized?

But you also had to admit that you wanted to be there for Wanda in case things went south. That much was clear from the moment you showed up in Westview the first time.

“How come you didn’t just zap her? Fight back?” Darcy asked as you fully shifted to the present day and paused the memory.

“Because she wasn’t wrong. I did miss Bucky, Steve and Sam. I missed Banner, too, because they were, in the end, the ones still here that cared if I lived or died. And Spider-Man. Which is random and weird, but he did. And frankly, what I said in the coffee shop was true. I had no idea what my powers would do to her spell. I could have leveled the town. That was not an option.”

“So, that Agatha woman…” Darcy started to say and then stopped. “Wait. That was her? In the coffee shop? That was why you were acting so weird?”

“Yeah. Wanda could have killed her or taken Agatha away with her to imprison her. She didn’t. After what Agatha tried to do to Wanda, to try and take her powers, Wanda had every right to finish her off. But Wanda doesn’t likely know all that yet. There are rules set up from ages ago. Things witches can and can’t do to each other under specific circumstances. So Wanda left her trapped here—for now anyway. But, whatever happened with them, it affected me, too. I got hit with stray magic blasts. I’m betting it messed up my powers in ways I didn’t realize. And maybe my memories as well.”

As Darcy knelt there, her phone finally chimed. It was some weird little R2-D2 chirpy beep, and she looked elated as she showed you the message. “Seems Bruce still cares if you are OK or not. I don’t think bringing him here is such a great idea…”

“Did anyone send him data about what happened here?” you asked as you got to your feet, pocketing some of the dirt from the lot before you stood up. “Air and soil samples? Readings from the residents?”

“I can get them for him. Trust me, Jimmy Woo and Monica Rambeau would be more than happy to help. I’m glad that loon Hayward seems to have gone into hiding or was hauled away to The Raft,” Darcy noted as she checked her phone again. “Seems the doc is working out of a Stark lab here in Jersey. Road trip?”

You really didn’t want to go see Bruce. You had no idea how you’d explain any of what you did to him.

++++++++++

You rehearsed what you planned to tell Bruce a million times in your mind as Darcy drove along the Garden State Parkway to a place called Woodcliff Lake. Stark Industries did indeed have a lab there, and it made you want to scream as you walked into the facility. You did not need yet another reminder that you could not save Tony Stark’s life at the end of that final battle with Thanos. That was part of why you were in this mess in the first place. It was also why you had a screaming fight with Stephen Strange, but no one else knew about that yet.

“Dr. Banner? We’re here!” Darcy yelled as you walked toward what had to be the research wing. The lack of security in the place was a bit disturbing, but then again, there were probably booby traps built into every square inch of the place. You could just hear Tony now as you got closer to the lab area. It would likely have been close to the speech you got the first time he talked to you at the compound.

“Hey! Lucky Charms! Don’t touch any of the expensive stuff. I guess that means don’t touch anything. I still have no idea why you are hanging around the team except that Steve wants you here for some reason. Maybe you’re tied to…his friend…and I just don’t want to face that? Still have issues with all of that, even if the man is dead. Pepper and Morgan said I should be nice to you, but I’m not quite there yet after what happened in Berlin. They are better people than I’ll ever be.”

“Earth to Kari?” you finally heard Bruce say as he waved his massive green hand in front of your face. Then he realized why you were likely spacing out. "Dr. Lewis, can we have a minute?”

“You can call me Darcy, if I can call you Bruce?” Lewis said as Banner nodded to her. “Cool. I’ll go find the little scientist’s room and be right back,” she added as she left the lab.

“So,” Bruce started as he pointed you toward a set of chairs at one side of the lab, “Darcy filled me in via text. I have no idea what happened with Wanda, and I know none of us know where she is. I did call a friend who wants to help,” he noted as a swirling circle of yellow light formed near the window that looked out over the parking lot. “I figured you’d listen to him, and he knows more about this stuff than I do.”

“What did you do?” Wong shouted as he exited the portal. “You usually listen to reason. Why did you go after Wanda all alone?”

“I went to help Wanda. She was hurting. She watched Vision die twice. She lost Pietro. I can relate to all that very, very well. My twin Branan died in front of my eyes, too, and I’ve buried two husbands. Both died in battle. I just wanted her to know she wasn’t alone. But she…she hit all my vulnerable points. And she was under attack at the same time. From a woman named Agatha Harkness and from the director of SWORD. Some martinet named Hayward. He built another Vision. I think Hayward was using Wanda’s powers to bring him to life. Darcy is going to check in with some of the people who worked with her to get you more intel, Bruce.”

“Another version of Vision? Great,” Bruce muttered as he looked over at Wong. “As for this Harkness person…”

“The name rings very small bells, so I’ll need to do some research,” Wong noted as you bumped your left fist against your forehead. “What?”

“Harkness is a succubus. And she is old. Not as old as I am, but she is still a good 400 years old, give or take a day. She apparently survived the Salem Witch Trials. Wanda spelled her and left her in Westview. I think she is, at least in small ways, aware that her world is all wrong. I didn’t want to press it when I saw her in that coffee shop. We do not need an angry succubus flying around. Wong, they got into an aerial battle, and Wanda was using sigils, runes, whatever you want to call them, to focus her power. I think she picked that up from good old Aggie. I never showed her anything like that on purpose. I always suspected she had magic in her bones, but it wasn’t my place to start that fire. The bigger issue is that Wanda conjured up two children while she was there. She created cats for me, so anything is possible. I got knocked out by the end of the fight, so I have no idea what exactly happened in the end other than Wanda running off and Agatha being left behind for some reason.”

“And?” Wong asked as he started to look you up and down. “You did a spell? And it went bad? Your aura is all messed up.”

“I…I tried to do a spell so The Avengers would think of me less and less, and then eventually I’d just be a fleeting memory. I felt walking away in the dead of night, the thing I usually do when I am leaving town, would not be good enough. The spell got botched, and now I’m connected in some fashion to Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. Looking back at it, I spent more time with them in the days leading up to my departure. Steve and Bruce were there the day I left, and so were Sam and Bucky. And…I’m carrying a lot of guilt about Bucky after his accident in 1943.”

“All this on top of the magical circus Wanda made? Are you insane?” Wong yelled as he started to pace.

“And the fight I had with Stephen on the day of the battle. Yeah, I guess I am insane,” you replied as Wong threw up his hands. Bruce had gotten extremely quiet, and that was not a good thing.

“Before we get to dissecting your spell, Kari, was this because of what Tony said? About you not being an Avenger because you were…?”

“Unstable? Yes. And the fact I could not bring anyone back from the grave, especially during that last battle. And the fact about who killed his parents. Buck did while under Hydra control. Steve found out and never told Tony. I ran into The Winter Soldier a few times over the decades, so there was the chance I could have prevented their deaths, too. Tony really had no reason to ask me to join the band.”

“Once we get your spell problem sorted, then we will address this, too,” Bruce said as he looked toward Wong and shook his head. “I loved Tony like a brother, but he was wrong…”

You winced a few times as you tried to listen to Bruce and Wong, now joined once again by Darcy, as they tried to figure out how to fix or reverse that spell, and they hashed out what might have happened to you during that first trip to Westview. You were really trying to focus on their questions, but you felt a tug that no one else could ever have possibly felt.

“Baltimore,” you mumbled as you pulled out your cellphone and debated texting the person you felt tugging at that damned invisible string. No. That would have ended badly, especially since your original spell had gone haywire.

“Bucky Barnes was arrested?” Darcy asked as she showed you her phone alert. “I bet he punched that new fake Cap in the nose. Sorry, but that guy looks like he has no clue. I saw him on Good Morning America. Total cheese fest.”

“Wait. What?” you asked as you took her phone. “Sam didn’t keep the shield? I just hope Bucky didn’t punch Sam and wind up in jail for that!” You gave Darcy back her phone and looked at yours again. It was buzzing. “Anyone here know who the hell is Christina Raynor?” you asked the trio in front of you. No one had any clue about that. You hit the speaker button as you answered the call.

“Hello? Ms. MacOrish. I’m James Barnes’ therapist, Christina Raynor. Sam Wilson said I should give you a call and ask you to join us in Baltimore. As quickly as possible, if you can. I don’t think Mr. Barnes wants to spend the night in a holding cell.”

“Oh no, you are not going to Baltimore,” Wong said as he crossed his arms and got a stern look on his face. “Not while your head is all over the place. You could portal to Baltimore in the 1800s for all you know. You could end up eating lunch with Lord Baltimore in the 1700s. You really shouldn’t do this.”

“Wong, what better place for me to go than to see a therapist?” you said with a smirk as you opened your own portal, this one a lovely shade of emerald green, that went to where Raynor was waiting for you—outside an interrogation room at the city jail.

“Mr. Wilson said you’d be fast. He did not tell me you were one of the powered class,” Raynor said as you went through the portal, looking back to wave briefly as you heard Darcy’s last comment.

“What about your rental car?”

[fyexo]

201216 M-Pop star Lay Zhang tells us about his music, dreams, and starting his own company

Chinese Megastar Lay Zhang wants to bring ‘China to the world’ with his music. He talks to Don’t Bore Us about how he plans to achieve his dreams.

For most of us, our dreams are conditional. For us, they remain in the abstract most of the time, attached to phrases like ‘It would be good if…’ or ‘I wish I…’. Not for Lay Zhang. Lay Zhang speaks in dreams. In his mind, he picks them out of the abstract and parks them on the road to his goals. Then, he sets into motion a cause and effect cycle, where each step leads to the realization of that dream.

“The word dream is a strange one,” he wrote in his autobiography Standing Firm at 24. “You start with a dream, but you have to fulfill everything in reality. Of course, it’s not really that you’re dreaming, because someone once told me, a dream is actually what a person’s heart looks like.”

Despite his status as one of China’s most famous stars, it’s this spirit that still is the condensation of Zhang’s ethos as an artist. Born in Changsha in the Chinese province of Hunan as Zhang Yixing, he was no stranger to the world of entertainment as a child star. In 2008, he auditioned for trainee-ship at SM Entertainment, largely considered the progenitor of modern-day K-pop, and passed. Four years later, he debuted as EXO’s Lay, an act that turned the tide for K-pop in the 2010s.

Home, however, was never very far away — after flitting between South Korea and China for work for sometime, the lengthy schedules eventually made him shift base to mainland China, laying the groundwork for Lay Zhang. His first studio album, Lay 02 Sheep, broke five records on the first day of digital release on the Chinese music service QQ Music. His second, NAMANANA, ranked No. 21 on the Billboard 200 chart, making him the highest-ranking M-pop artist on the chart to date.

It’s an ideal trajectory for anyone with dreams as big as Zhang: every new release came with new records and renown. Eventually, however, Zhang realized what his work was missing: a piece of his roots. He wanted to show the world “what China is really about.”

And so he said: “Let there be LIT.”

Named after a play on the Chinese word for lotus, ‘lián huā’, LIT — released in two parts over the course of 2020 — puts Zhang’s Chinese identity at its core. As he weaves the sounds of the Hulusi, Guzheng and Gong together with hip-hop, R&B, and Latin, Zhang not only creates his own genre (which he calls “mixed Mando-pop”), but also nurtures a new dream: one where Mando-pop frees itself of the labels of being “vapid” and “vain” and presents new avenues of experimentation and cultural triumph.

“In the future, mixed will be king. Every work, every genre can be mixed with each other; every language can mix with another. That’s where we go.” he says.

The way to this “mixed” world might be long, but Zhang will soon have company on the way. Earlier in 2020, he announced the establishing of his own company, Chromosome Entertainment, with a set focus to not only train the next generation of Chinese idols, but also to include Chinese culture and history as an integral part of their artistry.

DBU caught up with Lay Zhang to talk about Chromosome Entertainment, his music, how he is going to take his company to ‘infinity’, and his adorable cats.

Don’t Bore Us: Why did you think this was the right time to start your own company?

Lay Zhang: I have always wanted to have my own company and leave my mark in the world. I feel I need to think less and do more. I wanted to do it no matter how difficult it would be. If I kept waiting for the right moment, I might never do it. So, I created the Chromosome Entertainment Group.

DBU: Is there anything that you’ll focus on teaching the trainees that you yourself didn’t get during your trainee years?

Lay Zhang: Our trainees will learn more and more about Chinese culture and Chinese history.

DBU: Speaking of your music over the past year, we have to talk about LIT. We saw you expand into genres that you had never experimented with before. While Part 1 was a mix of traditional Chinese sounds, Part 2 had more modern inspirations such as R&B, Hip-hop, Latin, and others. Which of these sounds comes more naturally to you, and which one is more difficult to explore?

Lay Zhang: I just tried a lot of genres. Since I was young, I have been singing in Chinese and listening to pop music, so I find writing R&B is easier, since it is similar. With traditional Chinese music, it feels like second nature, since I grew up with it.

Latin and Hip-hop is very new to me, but Latin caught my ear because it’s easy to dance to. I’ve been listening to hip-hop and trap in the past few years. I think no matter what kind, I want to do a new genre. I want to call it M-pop because I think in the future, mixed will be king. Every work, every genre can be mixed with each other — every language can mix with each other, and that’s where we go.

DBU: Speaking of the incorporation of your native Chinese sounds into the songs on the first album, what is the most difficult part while looking for a middle-ground between culture and modernity?

Lay Zhang: You always want to respect the culture. We owe a lot to the past for giving us today: I cannot stress that enough. I understand that people have new tastes each year, so you want to make sure that you match the energy and the vibe of the year.

It’s hard to explain how I find the balance. I ask my friends and collaborators, what they feel. I took that into consideration [with LIT], and checked my gut feeling. Did I feel [like] it mixed my Chinese sound with the present or modern without losing it? It’s [a] feeling I get after listening to the record time after time in my car or in the studio.

DBU: With reference to bringing “China to the world”. How do you think LIT did that, apart from, of course, being a mash-up of different influences?

Lay Zhang: I think this album is the first of its kind in a way. It’s very unique: we brought together new and legendary producers to create beautiful music. We had traditional and modern day stories to showcase the idea of the past and the present, to show the world that Chinese artists can be creative. They can think more deeply about music. I want people to know that we are improving everyday. We are working hard. This is what LIT shows.

DBU: Historically, western audiences have thought of Mando-pop as being “very vain or bland.” You have always wanted to push forward Mixed Mando-pop through your work. How do you hope to change this perception of Mando-pop globally through your music?

Lay Zhang: It is a work in progress. We are still improving and developing M-pop. Since I was a child, I have always had big goals and dreams. I want to show the world what China is really about, that we are respectful people trying to better ourselves.

DBU: Your current approach to your work makes me curious. The words “one of China’s biggest celebrities” are often used in your context. With the fan-base and work you’ve built over the years, you could very well have taken the safer route and stuck to the previous sounds you have experimented with before, because anything you make is guaranteed to be a hit. So why is it important for you to keep making the kind of music you do, in the way you make it?

Lay Zhang: I want to challenge myself and see what I can do. I admit, I don’t always succeed, but I’d rather try different genres and sing in different languages to see what I am capable of. Like any artist, I want my music to reach more people, so you have to branch out and try new things, but at the same time, not lose who you are. I have great fans that support me and allow me to dream bigger. I want to pave the path for the next generation to share their music with the world.

DBU: You’ve worked both in South Korea and China. With K-pop having a moment in the global spotlight, what are some things that you feel M-pop could learn or borrow from K-pop?

Lay Zhang: I think it’s great that K-pop is having its moment. In M-pop, we need to put ourselves out there more. We need to meet fans in every city and town to create that one-on-one interaction. I think there are enough artists with quality music to match the artists in K-pop: we just need to focus on sharing Mando-pop.

DBU: For the past few years, you have been heavily involved in music reality shows geared towards bringing out China’s next musical stars. There was Idol Producer, Youth With You, Street Dance of China: what are your hopes from the next generation, and why this interest?

Lay Zhang: The next generation inspires me. Their dreams and efforts inspire me to work harder and be a good role model. I hope they can focus on creating great art and work that they can be proud of. Their work should speak for itself. If everyone can do this, they can do this. If everyone can do this, we can push the boundaries of music and art. We can create works that leave people in awe.

DBU: In the larger context of your artistry, what impact has this year had on you personally?

Lay Zhang: COVID-19 slowed my life down like everyone else. We have all experienced difficulties, but I was able to think about my music and career more clearly. I decided that I should go after the things I want as soon as I could. For my artistry, I realized I needed to focus on music I made, my company, and make music that really carried the culture and vibe of my country.

DBU: Observing your trajectory from when you just started out to now, I was thinking about how it is very clear where your professional priorities lie. What about personal ones? What are you focusing on personally in the coming year?

Lay Zhang: I think about this a lot, and it’s hard to separate my work and personal life. But I think I only have that much time before I run out of energy. I am always thirsty (laughs), so I know I won’t be able to continue this forever. I want to keep pushing until I can’t. So, then I can focus on my personal life knowing I gave it all to my career.

DBU: I asked some fans if they had anything to say to you, and most of them wanted me to relay the same thing: please take a well-deserved break! Now that LIT has had its successful run, is it time for a vacation, or is there more to come?

Lay Zhang: My cats give me a lot of confidence and happiness. They make it easier to face each day; it’s nice to know you have someone waiting for you at home. But I will take a vacation when I turn 40 (laughs). Of course, there is more to come: the trainees we are receiving are so talented. I am excited to create something that will hopefully last a long time, and will improve and uphold the entertainment industry in China.

L Singh @ Don’t Bore Us

[jamestaylorswift]

My giant goes with me wherever I go: a study of the geographic metanarrative of folklore

This topic has been rattling around in my brain ever since I first heard folklore and I think it’s endlessly fascinating. Cue this lengthy but (hopefully) intriguing piece.

I’m afraid the title may not be an accurate reflection of this essay’s content, so here’s a preview of talking points: geography, existence, metanarrative, making sense of the theme of death, the “peace”/“hoax”/“the lakes” trio, history/philosophy, and exactly one paragraph of rep/Lover analysis (as a treat).

I make the standard disclaimer that analysis is by definition subjective. Additionally, many thanks and credit to anyone else who has written analysis of folklore. I am sure my opinions have been influenced by yours, even subconsciously.

Questions, comments, and suggestions are always welcome, and thank you for taking the time to read :)

——

“Traveling is a fool’s paradise. We owe to our first journeys the discovery that place is nothing. At home I dream that at Naples, at Rome, I can be intoxicated with beauty and lose my sadness. I pack my trunk, embrace my friends, embark on the sea, and at last wake up in Naples, and there beside me in the stern Fact, the sad self, unrelenting, identical, that I fled from. I seek the Vatican, and the palaces. I affect to be intoxicated with sights and suggestions, but I am not intoxicated. My giant goes with me wherever I go.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

——

If Taylor Swift’s music is anything, it is highly geographic. Taylor has been a country, pop, and now alternative artist, yet a storyteller through and through—one with a special knack for developing the aesthetic of songs and even entire records through location. The people and places she writes about seem to mutually breathe life into each other.

It is plausible that Taylor, as a young storyteller, developed this talent by using places as veritable muses just like she did anything else. Furthermore, her confessional storytelling became much more geographic as she shifted to pop because of factors including (though certainly not limited to) purchasing real estate, traveling more, writing in a genre that canonically centers coastal cities, and dating individuals with their own established homes. The geographic motif in her work is so identifiable that all of the corresponding details are—for better or worse—commensurate to autobiography.

However, folklore is not autobiographical in the way that most understand her other albums to be. The relationship between people and places in folklore is likewise much less symbiotic.

The first two songs on the record illustrate this. We are at bare minimum forced to associate the characters of Betty and James with New York: the lyrics about the High Line imply a fraction of their relationship took place in this city. Even so, this does not imply Betty or James ever permanently resided in New York, or that Betty is in New York at the moment she is narrating the story of “cardigan.” Taylor places far more emphasis on James and the nostalgia of youth, with “I knew you” repeated as a hook, to develop the emotional tone of the song. Rhode Island also comes to life in “the last great american dynasty” because of Rebekah Harkness’ larger-than-life character. But Taylor, following Rebekah’s antagonism, states multiple times throughout the song that the person should be divorced from the place. folklore locations are never so revered that they gain the vibrancy of literal human life. Taylor refrains from saying a person is a place in the same way that she has said that she is New York or her lover is the West Village.

For an album undeniably with the most concrete references to location, it is highly irregular—even confusing, given that personification is such a powerful storytelling device—that Taylor does not equate location with personal ethos.

Regurgitating the truism that geography equals autobiography proves quite limiting for interpreting Taylor’s work. How, then, should geography influence our understanding of folklore?

I submit that the stories in folklore are not ‘about’ places but ‘of’ places which are not real. Taylor’s autobiographical fiction makes the settings of the songs similarly fictionalized, metaphorical, and otherwise symbolic of something much more than geography. It is this phenomenon which emotionally and philosophically distinguishes folklore from the rest of her oeuvre.

——

As a consequence of Taylor’s unusual treatment of location, real places in folklore become signposts for cultural-geographic abstractions. Reality is simply a set of worldbuilding training wheels.

Prominent geographic features define places, which define settings. The world of folklore is built from what I’ve dubbed as four archetypal settings: the Coastal Town, the Suburb, the City, and the Outside World.

Each has a couple defining geographic features:

Coastal Town: water, cliffs/a lookout

Suburb: homes, town

City: public areas, social/nightlife/entertainment venues

The Outside World serves as the logical complement of the other three settings.

Understanding that real location in folklore is neither interchangeable nor synonymous with setting is crucial. Rhode Island is like the Coastal Town, but the two settings are not one and the same. The Suburb is an idyllic mid-America setting like Nashville, St. Louis, or Pennsylvania; it is all of those places and none of them at the same time. The City may be New York City, but it is certainly not New York City in the way that Taylor has ever sung about New York City before. The Outside World is just away.

Put simply, folklore is antithetical to Taylor’s previous geographic doctrine. While we are not precluded from, for instance, imagining the City as New York City, we also cannot and should not be pigeonholed into doing so.

Note:

This album purports to embody the stereotypically American folkloric tradition. “Outside” means “anywhere that isn’t America” because the imagery and associations of the first three cultural-geographic settings indeed are very distinctly American.

While Nashville and St. Louis are relatively big cities, they are still orders of magnitude smaller than New York and LA, the urban centers that Taylor normally regards as big cities. In context of this essay, the former locations are Suburban.

In this essay, the purpose of the term ‘of’ is simply to replace the more strict term ‘about.’ ‘Of’ denotes significant emotion tied to a place, usually because of significant time spent there either in the past or present (tense matters). Not all songs are ‘of’ places—it may be ambiguous where action takes place—and some songs can be ‘of’ multiple places due to location changing throughout the story. (This does not automatically mean that songs with more than one location are ‘of’ two places. A passing mention of St. Louis does not qualify “the last great american dynasty” as ‘of’ the Suburb, for example.)

Each of the four archetypal settings must instead be understood as an amalgam of the aesthetics of every real location it could be. Setting then exists in conversation with metaphor because we have a shared understanding of what constitutes a generic Suburb, City, or Coastal Town.

Finally, by transitivity, the settings’ metaphorical significance entirely hinges upon the geographic features’ metaphorical significance. This is what Taylor authors.

The next part of the essay is concerned with deciphering geography in folklore per these guiding questions: how is an archetypal feature used as a metaphor? By proxy, what does that say about the setting defined by it? What theme, if any, unites the settings?

The Coastal Town: Water and Cliffs

The Coastal Town is defined by elemental features.

The first (brief) mentions of water occur on the first two tracks:

Roarin’ twenties, tossing pennies in the pool

Leavin’ like a father, running like water

“the last great american dynasty” introduces the setting to which the pool (water) feature belongs, our Rhode Island-like Coastal Town. It also incorporates a larger water feature, the ocean, and suggests the existence of a lookout or cliffs:

Rebekah gave up on the Rhode Island set forever

Flew in all her Bitch Pack friends from the city

Filled the pool with champagne and swam with the big names

//

They say she was seen on occasion

Pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea

“seven” and “peace” also have brief mentions of water; however, note that these songs remain situated as ‘of’ the Suburb. (More on this later.)

I hit my peak at seven

Feet in the swing over the creek

I was too scared to jump in

But I’m a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm

If your cascade, ocean wave blues come

“my tears ricochet” and “mad woman” with their nautical references pertain to the water metaphor:

I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace

And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves

Now I breathe flames each time I talk

My cannons all firin’ at your yacht

“epiphany” also counts, though with the understanding of “beaches” as Guadalcanal this song is ‘of’ the Outside World:

Crawling up the beaches now

“Sir, I think he’s bleeding out”

“this is me trying” and “hoax” reiterate the cliff/lookout geography:

Pulled the car off the road to the lookout

Could’ve followed my fears all the way down

Stood on the cliffside screaming, “Give me a reason”

Finally, “the lakes” features both water and cliffs:

Take me to the lakes, where all the poets went to die

//

Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry

//

While I bathe in cliffside pools

With my calamitous love and insurmountable grief

In folklore, water dovetails with permanent loss.

“epiphany” is the most egregious example. Crawling up the beaches of a war zone proves fatal. “the lakes” describes grieving in water, perhaps for the loss of one’s life because there exist cliffs from which to jump. “this is me trying” and “hoax” mirror that idea. On the other hand, in “peace,” death does not seem to have any connection to falling from a height.

Loss can also mean loss of sanity, such as with the eccentric character of Rebekah Harkness or Taylor as a “mad woman” firing cannons at (presumably) Scooter Braun’s yacht.

Subtler are the losses alluded to in “my tears ricochet” and “seven,” of identity or image and childhood audacity, respectively. And in the opening tracks water is at its most benign, aligned with loss of a relationship that has run its course in one’s young adulthood.

The most fascinating aspect of water in folklore is that it is an aberration from water as the symbol for life/birth/renewal, derived from maternity and the womb. folklore water taketh away, not giveth.

As of now, the greater significance of the Coastal Town—the meaning to which this contradiction alludes—remains to be seen.

The City: Nightlife, Entertainment, and Public Areas

Preeminent in Taylor’s pop work is the City; New York City, Los Angeles, and London are the locations most frequently extolled as Swiftian meccas. This archetypal setting is given a more understated role in folklore.

“cardigan,” ‘of’ the City, illustrates this setting using public environments and nightlife:

Vintage tee, brand new phone

High heels on cobblestones

//

But I knew you

Dancin’ in your Levi’s

Drunk under a streetlight

//

I knew you

Your heartbeat on the High Line

Once in twenty lifetimes

//

To kiss in cars and downtown bars

Was all we needed

“mirrorball” paints the clearest picture of the City’s nightlife/social venues by sheer quantity of lyrics:

I’m a mirrorball

I’ll show you every version of yourself tonight

I’ll get you out on the floor

Shimmering beautiful

//

You are not like the regulars

The masquerade revelers

Drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten

//

And they called off the circus, burned the disco down

“invisible string” briefly mentions a bar:

A string that pulled me

Out of all the wrong arms, right into that dive bar

In addition, “this is me trying” implies that the speaker may currently be at a bar, making the song partially ‘of’ the City:

They told me all of my cages were mental

So I got wasted like all my potential

//

I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere

Fell behind all my classmates and I ended up here

Pouring out my heart to a stranger

But I didn’t pour the whiskey

It goes almost without saying that the City at large is alcohol-soaked. Indeed, alcohol will help us understand this location.

Each of the aforementioned songs has a distinct narrator, like Betty in the case of “cardigan” or Taylor herself, at the very least in the case of “mirrorball” or at most all songs besides “cardigan.” And because the narrative character is so strong, I posit that the meaning of this geography is tied to what alcohol reveals about the speakers of the songs themselves.

“invisible string” and “mirrorball” are alike in the fact that the stories extend well beyond or even completely after nightlife. Meeting in a dive bar in “invisible string” is just the catalyst for a relationship that feels fated. Taylor, in her “mirrorball” musing, expresses concern about how she is perceived by someone close to her. Does existing after the fact (of public perception, at an entertainment venue) constitute an authentic existence? Alcohol, apparently a necessary part of City life, predates events which later haunt the speakers. Emotional torment is then what prompts the speakers to recount their stories.

On the other hand, alcohol directly reveals the emotional states of the speakers in “cardigan” and “this is me trying.” “cardigan” is Betty’s sepia-toned memory of her time with James, in which James’ careless, youthful spirit (“dancin’ in your Levi’s, drunk under a streetlight” and “heartbeat on the High Line”) inspires sadness and nostalgia for their ultimately temporary relationship (“once in twenty lifetimes”). “this is me trying” is tinged with the speaker’s bitterness; hopelessness and regret lead them to the bar and the destructive practice of drinking just to be numb.

These observations suggest that the City is also a site of grief or loss, though not for the same reason that the Coastal Town is. Whereas the Coastal Town is associated with a permanent ending such as death, the City reveals an ending that is more transitional and wistful, tantamount to a coming of age. There is a clear ‘before’ and ‘after’ to loss related to the City: life, though changed, goes on.

The Suburb: Homes and Towns

Noteworthy though the City and Coastal Town may be, the former in particular concerning the pop mythology of Taylor Swift, it is the Suburb which Taylor most frequently references in folklore and establishes as the geographical heart of the album.

The Suburb is defined by a home and town. A “home” encompasses entrances (front/side doors), back and front yards (gardens/lawns/trees/weeds/creeks), and interiors (rooms/halls/closets). The “town” is pretty self-explanatory, with a store, mall, movie theater, school, and yogurt shop.

Observe that the folklore Suburb is the aesthetic equivalent of the “small town” that provided the debut and Fearless albums’ milieu and inspired the country mythology of Taylor Swift. While Taylor primarily wrote about home and school on those albums (because, well, that was closer to her experience as a teenager), the “small town” and the folklore Suburb are functionally the same with regard to pace, quality, and monotonicity of life. Exhibit A: driving around and lingering on front doorsteps are the main attractions for young adults. (From my personal experience growing up in a Suburb, this is completely accurate. And yes, the only other attractions are the mall and the movie theater.)

The Suburb becomes a conduit for conflict.

Conflict that Taylor explores in this setting, including inner turmoil, dissension between characters, and friction between oneself and external (societal) expectations, naturally can be distinguished by distance [1] between the two forces in conflict. As an example, ‘person vs. self’ implies no distance between the sides because they are both oneself. ‘Person vs. society’ is conflict in which the sides are the farthest they could conceivably be from each other. Conflict with greater distance between the sides is usually harder to resolve. One must move bigger mountains, so to speak, to fix these problems.

The folklore Suburb is additionally constructed upon the notion of privacy or seclusion. We can imagine a gradient [2] of privacy illustrated by Suburban geography: the town is a less intimate setting than the outside of the home, which is less intimate than the inside of the home.

I combine these two ideas in the following claim: the Suburb relates distance between two forces in conflict inversely on the geographical privacy gradient. Put simply, the more intimate or ‘internal’ the setting, the farther the two sides in conflict are from each other.

(I offer this claim in the hopes that it will clarify the nebulous meaning of the Suburb in the next section.)

Salient references to the Suburban town can be divided into one of two categories:

Allowing oneself to hope

Allowing oneself to recall

“august” clearly belongs in the first category. Hope is central to August’s character and how she approaches her relationship with James:

Wanting was enough

For me, it was enough

To live for the hope of it all

Canceled plans just in case you’d call

And say, “Meet me behind the mall”

If we interpret the bus as a school bus then “the 1” also belongs in this first town category:

I thought I saw you at the bus stop, I didn’t though

//

I hit the ground running each night

I hit the Sunday matinee

“invisible string” indicates that the yogurt shop is equally innocent as Centennial Park. The store represents the hope of Taylor’s soul mate, parallel to her hope:

Green was the color of the grass

Where I used to read at Centennial Park

I used to think I would meet somebody there

Teal was the color of your shirt

When you were sixteen at the yogurt shop

You used to work at to make a little money

“cardigan” and “this is me trying” alternatively highlight the persistence of memory, with a relationship leaving an “indelible mark” on the narrators. These songs belong in the second category:

I knew I’d curse you for the longest time

Chasin’ shadows in the grocery line

You’re a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town

James’ recollection qualifies “betty” for the second category as well. This song shows that emotional weight falls behind the act of remembering:

Betty, I won’t make assumptions

About why you switched your homeroom, but

I think it’s ‘cause of me

Betty, one time I was riding on my skateboard

When I passed your house

It’s like I couldn’t breathe

//

Betty, I know where it all went wrong

Your favorite song was playing

From the far side of the gym

I was nowhere to be found

I hate the crowds, you know that

Plus, I saw you dance with him

The surprising common denominator of these two categories is that conflict is purely internal in public spaces. Regardless of whether the speakers feel positively or negatively (i.e. per category number), their feelings are entirely a product of their own decisions, such as revisiting a memory or avoiding confrontation. This gives credence to the theory that the Suburb inversely relates conflict distance with privacy.

On the other extreme, the home is a site of conflict larger than oneself, and often more conflict in general. Conflict which occurs in the most private setting, inside the house, is conflict where the two sides are most distanced from each other. Conflict near the house, though not strictly inside, is closer, interpersonal.

“my tears ricochet” is just an ‘indoors’ song. The opening line depicts a private, funeral-like atmosphere:

We gather here, we line up, weepin’ in a sunlit room

There are multiple interpretations of this song floating around. The two prevailing ones are about the death of Taylor Swift the persona and the sale of her masters. In either interpretation, society and culture are the foundation for the implied conflict. First, the caricature of Taylor Swift exists as a reflection of pop culture; second, the sale of global superstar Taylor Swift’s masters is a dispute of such magnitude that it is not simply an interpersonal squabble.

For the alternative interpretation that “my tears ricochet” is about a dissolved relationship, “and when you can’t sleep at night // you hear my stolen lullabies” implicates Taylor Swift’s public catalogue (and thus Taylor Swift the persona) as the entity haunting someone else, as opposed to Taylor Swift the former member of the relationship.

“mad woman” is just an ‘outdoors’ song because of the line about the neighbor’s lawn:

What do you sing on your drive home?

Do you see my face in the neighbor’s lawn?

Does she smile?

Or does she mouth, “Fuck you forever”

It’s clear Taylor has a lot of vitriol for Scooter Braun. Though it’s probably a bit of both at the end of the day, I am comfortable calling their feud more of the ‘person vs. person’ variety than the ‘person vs. society’ variety.

Consequently, the privacy gradient claim holds for both songs.

“illicit affairs” is one of two songs with a very clear ‘transformation’ of geography:

What started in beautiful rooms

Ends with meetings in parking lots

In context, this represents the devolution of the relationship. External conflict, the illegitimacy of the relationship, defined the affair when it was in “beautiful rooms.” Relocating to the parking lot (i.e. now referencing the Suburban town) coincides with discord turning inward. Any external shame or scorn for both lovers as a consequence of the affair is replaced by the end of the song with anger the lovers feel towards each other and, more importantly, themselves.

“seven” is the best example of how many types of conflict are present in and around the home:

I hit my peak at seven

Feet in the swing over the creek

I was too scared to jump in

//

And I’ve been meaning to tell you

I think your house is haunted

Your dad is always mad and that must be why

And I think you should come live with me

And we can be pirates

Then you won’t have to cry

Or hide in the closet

//

Please picture me in the weeds

Before I learned civility

I used to scream ferociously

Any time I wanted

The first few lines exemplify ‘person vs. self’ conflict, a fear of heights. The third segment introduces a ‘person vs. society’ dilemma, shrinking pains as a result of socialization into gender norms. (I am assuming that the child is a girl.) The second verse indicates strife between a child and a father. It leaves room for three interpretations:

The conflict is interpersonal, so the father’s anger is wholly or partially directed at the child because the father is an angry person

The conflict is sociological, so the father’s anger is a whole or partial consequence of the gendered roles which the father and child perform

Both

Is curious that we need not regard sadness and the closet in “seven” as mutually inclusive. The narrator says the child’s options are crying (logical) or hiding in the closet. Both the father’s temper and the closet are facts of the child’s life, either innocuous or traumatic or somewhere in between.

But we might—and perhaps should—go further and argue that conflict in “seven” is necessarily sociological, and specifically about being civilized to perform heterosexual femininity. For, taken to its logical extreme, if only gender identity and not sexual identity incites anger, then men must be socialized to become abusive to women, who must be socialized to become submissive to that abuse. Screaming “ferociously” at any time would also denote freedom to be oneself despite men, not freedom to be oneself for one’s own gratification. Yet the child surely enjoys the second freedom at the beginning of the song. While the patriarchy is indeed an oppressive societal force, the interpretation of the social conflict in “seven” as only gendered yields contradiction. This interpretation is much more tenuous than acknowledging that the closet is, in fact, The Closet.

(Mere mention of a closet, the universal symbol for hiding one’s sexuality, immediately justifies a queer interpretation of “seven” notwithstanding other sociological and/or semantic technicalities. A sizable chunk of Taylor’s extensive discography also lends itself to queer interpretation by extension of connection with this song—for instance, by a shared theme of socialization as a primary evil. To me it seems silly at best and homophobic at worst to eschew the reading of “seven” presented here.)

It is undeniable that “seven” represents many types of conflict and places them inversely on the privacy gradient. The father embodies societal conflict larger than the young child and introduces that conflict inside the house. The child faces internal conflict (i.e. a fear of heights) and no conflict at all (i.e. freedom to act fearlessly) outside.

Reconciling “august,” “exile,” and “betty” with the privacy gradient actually requires a queer interpretation of the songs. To avoid the complete logical fallacy of a circular proof, I reiterate that the privacy gradient is simply a means of illustrating how the Suburb functions as an archetypal location. Queer interpretation is a sufficient but not necessary condition for an interesting argument about Suburban spatial symbolism. Reaching a slightly weaker conclusion about the Suburb without the privacy gradient would not impact the conclusions about the other three archetypal locations. Finally, queer (sub)text is a noteworthy topic on its own.

“betty” situates the front porch as the venue where Betty must make a decision about her relationship with James:

But if I just showed up at your party

Would you have me? Would you want me?

Would you tell me to go fuck myself

Or lead me to the garden?

In the garden, would you trust me

If I told you it was just a summer thing?

//

Yeah, I showed up at your party

Will you have me? Will you love me?

Will you kiss me on the porch

In front of all your stupid friends?

If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it?

Will it patch your broken wings?

Influencing Betty’s decision is her relationship with her “stupid” (read: homophobic) friends who don’t accept James (and/or the idea of James/Betty as a pair), her own internalized homophobia, and the trepidation with which she may regard James after the August escapade. The conflict at the front door is external/societal, interpersonal, and internal.

The garden differs from the front door as an area where James and Betty can privately discuss the August escapade. By moving to the garden, the supposed root of their conflict shifts from the oppressive force of homophobia to James’ behavior regarding the love triangle (“would you trust me if I told you it was just a summer thing?”). Much like in “illicit affairs,” motion along the privacy gradient underscores that micro-geography is inversely related to conflict distance.

Next, the implied settings of “august” are a bedroom and a private outdoor location such as a backyard:

Salt air, and the rust on your door

I never needed anything more

Whispers of "Are you sure?”

“Never have I ever before”

//

Your back beneath the sun

Wishin’ I could write my name on it

Will you call when you’re back at school?

I remember thinkin’ I had you

The backyard holds a mixture of ‘person vs. self’ and ‘person vs. person’ conflict. August’s doubts about James manifest as personal insecurities. However, James, by avoiding commitment, is equally responsible for planting that seed of doubt.

The song’s opening scene depicts a young adult losing their virginity. The bedroom can thus be conceptualized as a site of societal conflict because the queer love story expands this location to the geographical manifestation of escapism and denial. James runs off with August as a means to ignore externalized homophobia from a relationship with Betty, who has homophobic friends. Yet they eventually ditch August for Betty, either because of intense feelings for Betty or internalized homophobia—the relationship with August was too perfect, too easy.

“betty” and “august” are consistent with the gradient theory provided we interpret the love triangle narrative as queer. Identity engenders conflict in these songs. The characters then confront the conflict vis-à-vis location. ‘Indoors’ becomes the arena for confronting issues farther from the self, namely concerning homophobia. ‘Outdoors’ scopes cause and therefore possible resolution to individuals’ choices.

Last but not least, consider “exile,” the song with strange staging:

And it took you five whole minutes

To pack us up and leave me with it

Holdin’ all this love out here in the hall

//

You were my crown, now I’m in exile, seein’ you out

I think I’ve seen this film before

So I’m leaving out the side door

“I’m in exile, seein’ you out” and “I’m leaving out the side door” contradict each other. The speaker, “I,” seeing their lover out means that the speaker remains inside the house while their lover leaves. But the “I” also leaves through the side door. Does the speaker follow their lover out? If so, then whose house are they leaving? It is most likely a shared residence. They plan on coming back.

Taylor said in an interview [3] that the verses, sung by different people, represent the perspectives of the two lovers. The “me” in the first segment is the “you” in the second. So our “I” is left in the hall too. Both individuals  in the relationship are implied to leave and stay at different times.

An explanation for this inconsistency lies in the distinction between doors. A front door in folklore is symbolic of trust, that which makes or breaks a relationship (see: Betty’s front door and the door in “hoax”). It also forces sociological conflict to be resolved at the interpersonal level, lest serious problems hang out in the open. Fixing the world at large is usually impossible, and so front doors only create more issues. (The mountains, as they say, are too big to move.) The main entrance is thus a site for volatility and high stakes.

“exile” suggests that a shared side door is for persistent, dull, aching pain. This door symbolizes shame which is inherent to a relationship. It forces the partners to come and go quietly, to hide the existence of their love. Inferred from a queer reading of “exile” is that it is homophobia that erases the relationship. Conflict with society as evinced in individuals is once again consistent with the staging at the home.

Note that few (though multiple) explanations could resolve the paradox between intense shame in a relationship and the setting of a permanent shared home. Racism, for example, may be a reason individuals hide the existence of a loving relationship. Nevertheless, the overall effect of Taylor’s writing is that it is believable autobiography. It is unlikely that she’s speaking about racism here, least of all because there are two other male characters in the song. So a slightly more uncouth name for “exile” would be “the last great american mutual bearding anthem.”

To summarize, the Suburb is an archetypal setting constructed upon the notion of privacy. Taylor makes the folklore Suburb the primary home (no pun intended) of conflict of all kinds. Through an intimate, inverse relationship between drama and constitutive geography, Taylor argues that unrest and incongruity are central to what the Suburb represents.

The Outside World

The final archetypal setting is the complement to the first three—a physical and symbolic alternative.

The Guadalcanal beaches in “epiphany” (which are also alluded to in “peace”) contrast the homeland in “exile” through a metaphor about war. The Lake District in England is opposite America, the setting of most of folklore. The Moon, Saturn, and India are far away from Pennsylvania, the setting of “seven.” India quantifies the lengths to which the speaker of the song would go to protect the child character, while astronomy abstracts the magnitude of the speaker’s love.

This archetypal setting is symbolic of disengagement and breaking free from limitations. Moving to India in “seven” is how the speaker and child could escape problems at the child’s home. Analogizing war with the pandemic in “epiphany” removes geographical and chronological constraints from trauma.

The Lake District is where Taylor, a poet, goes to die. The line “I don’t belong and, my beloved, neither do you” could also suggest that this location is where Taylor and her muse break free from being outcasts (i.e. they find belonging). Regardless, the Lake District is where she disengages from the ultimate limitation of life itself.

——

How is an archetypal feature used as a metaphor? By proxy, what does that say about the setting defined by said feature?

Analysis of each archetypal feature yielded the following:

The Coastal Town is representative of permanent loss/endings

The City is representative of transitional loss/endings

The Suburb is the site of character-defining conflict

The Outside World is freedom from the constraints of the other settings

What theme unites these settings?

Though the majority of songs in folklore are anachronistic, the album has a temporal spirit. Geography seems to humanize and animate folklore: the meanings of the settings mirror the stages of life.

(The theoretical foundation for this claim is a topology of being; that the nature of being [4] is an event of place.)

The City, characterized by transition, is the coming-of-age and the Coastal Town, characterized by permanent endings, is death.

The Outside World, an alternative to life itself, is hence a rebirth. (After all, Romantic poets experienced a spiritual and occupational rebirth upon retiring to the Lakes to die. We remember them by their retreat.)

Outwardly, the Suburb is ambiguous. It could be representative of adolescence or adulthood—before or after the City. Analysis shows that this setting is nothing if not complex. Adult Taylor writes about the Suburb as someone whose opinion of this setting has unquestionably soured since adolescence. Yet she also approaches the Suburb with the singular goal of creating nuance, specifically by exposing unrest and incongruity which the setting usually obfuscates. This setting, ironically one that is (culturally) ruled by haughty adolescents, is where she explores the myriad subtleties and uncertainties coloring adulthood. The Suburb thus cannot be for adolescence because James is 17 and doesn’t know anything. Taylor intentionally situates the Suburb between the City and Coastal Town as the geographic stand-in for a complicated adulthood.

Despite genre shifts, Taylor has always excelled at establishing a clear setting for her songs. She is arguably even required to establish setting more clearly for folkloric storytelling than for her brand of confessional pop. If we can’t fully distinguish between reality and fiction, we must be able to supplement our understanding of a story with strong characterization, which is ultimately a byproduct of setting. Geography is a prima facie necessity for creating folklore.

This further suggests that the ‘life story’ told through geography is the thing closest to a metanarrative of folklore.

I use this term to refer to an album’s overarching narrative structure which Taylor creates (maybe subconsciously) in service of artistic self-expression. Interrogating ‘metanarrative’ should not be confused with the protean, impossible, and distracting task of deciphering Taylor Swift’s life. True metanarrative is always worth exploring. Also, though some conclusions about metanarrative may seem more plausible than others, at the end of the day all relevant arguments are untenable. Only Taylor knows exactly which metanarrative(s) her albums follow, if any. It is simply worth appreciating that folklore allows an interesting discussion about metanarrative in the first place; that it is both possible to find patterns sewn into the fabric of the work and to resonate with that which one believes those patterns illustrate. I digress.

folklore is highly geographic but orthogonal to all of our geographic expectations of mood or tone. Through metaphor, Taylor upends our assumptions about the archetypal settings.

The Outside World is usually a setting which represents a brief and peaceful respite for travelers. Here, it is the setting for complete and permanent disengagement. Hiding and running away was a panacea in reputation/Lover, but in folklore, finding peace in running and hiding becomes impossible.

The City is usually regarded as a modern Fountain of Youth and, in Taylor’s work, a home. However, the folklore City’s shelter is temporary and its energy brittle, like the relationship between the characters that inhabit it. The City has lost its glow.

One would expect the Coastal Town to be peaceful and serene given its small size and proximity to water. Taylor makes it the primary site of death, insanity, permanent loss. The place where one cannot go with grace is hardly peaceful.

The Suburb is not the romanticized-by-necessity dead end that it is in a Bildungsroman like Fearless. Rather, it is the site of great conflict as a consequence of individual identity. The American suburb is monolithic by design; Taylor points the finger of blame back at this design for erasing hurt and trauma. By writing against the gradient of privacy, she obviates all simplicity and serenity for which this location is known. Bedrooms no longer illustrate the dancing-in-pjs-before-school and floodplain-of-tears binary. Front porches become more sinister than the place to meet a future partner and rock a baby. Characters’ choices—often between two undesirable options in situations complicated by misalignment of the self and the world at large—become their biggest mistakes. It is with near masochistic fascination that Taylor dissects how the picturesque Suburban façade disguises misery.

If we have come to expect anything from Taylor, it is that she will make lustrous even the most mundane feelings and places. (And she is very good at her job.) folklore is a departure from this practice. She replaces erstwhile veneration of geography itself with nostalgia, bitterness, sadness, or disdain for any given setting. folklore is orthogonal to our primary expectation of Taylor Swift.

Yet another fascinating aspect of folklore is the air of death. It’s understandable. Taylor has ‘killed’ relationships, her own image, and surely parts of her inner self an unknowable number of times. Others have tarnished her reputation, stolen her songs, and deserted her in personal and professional life. She perishes frequently, both by her own hand and by the hands of others. The losses compound.

I’ve lost track of the number of posts I’ve seen saying that folklore is Taylor mourning friendships, love, a past self, youth…x, y, z. It has literally never been easier to project onto a Taylor Swift album, folks! At the same time, it is very difficult to to pinpoint what, exactly, Taylor is mourning. To me, listing things is a far too limited understanding of folklore. The lists simply do not do the album justice.

Death’s omnipresence has intrigued many, and I assert for good geographic reason. Reinforcing the album’s macabre undertone is nonlinear spatial symbolism: each setting bares a grief-soaked stage of a single life. From the City to the Suburb, Coastal Town, and Outside World, we perceive one’s sadness and depression, anger and helplessness, frustration and scorn, and acceptance, respectively. folklore holds a raw, primal grief at its core.

The geographic metanarrative justifies Taylor’s unabridged grieving process as that over the death of her own Romanticism. For the album’s torment is not as simple as in aging or metamorphosis of identity, not as glorified or irreverent as in a typical Swiftian murder-suicide, not as overt as in a loss with something or someone to blame. folklore is Taylor’s reckoning with what can only be described as artistic mortality.

——

To summarize up until this point: geography in folklore is not literal but metaphorical. The artistic treatment of folklore settings evinces a ‘geographic metanarrative,’ a close connection between settings and the stages of a life spent grieving. I propose that this life tracks Taylor’s relationship to her Romanticism. folklore follows the stages of Taylor’s artistic grief, so we will see that the conclusion of the album brings the death of Taylor’s Romanticism.

It is important to distinguish between the death of Romanticism in general and the death of Taylor’s Romanticism. folklore presents an argument for the latter.

A central conceit of Romanticism is its philosophy of style:

The most characteristic romantic commitment is to the idea that the character of art and beauty and of our engagement with them should shape all aspects of human life.…if the romantic ideal is to materialize, aesthetics should permeate and shape human life. [5]

Romanticism is realized through imagination:

The imagination was elevated to a position as the supreme faculty of the mind.…The Romantics tended to define and to present the imagination as our ultimate “shaping” or creative power, the approximate human equivalent of the creative powers of nature or even deity. It is dynamic, an active, rather than passive power, with many functions. Imagination is the primary faculty for creating all art. On a broader scale, it is also the faculty that helps humans to constitute reality…we not only perceive the world around us, but also in part create it. Uniting both reason and feeling…imagination is extolled as the ultimate synthesizing faculty, enabling humans to reconcile differences and opposites in the world of appearance. [6]

Imagination then engenders an artist-hero lifestyle [7]. This is similar—if not identical—to what we perceive of Taylor Swift’s life:

By locating the ultimate source of poetry in the individual artist, the tradition, stretching back to the ancients, of valuing art primarily for its ability to imitate human life (that is, for its mimetic qualities) was reversed. In Romantic theory, art was valuable not so much as a mirror of the external world, but as a source of illumination of the world within.…The “poetic speaker” became less a persona and more the direct person of the poet.…The interior journey and the development of the self recurred everywhere as subject material for the Romantic artist. The artist-as-hero is a specifically Romantic type.

Taylor’s Romanticism is thus her imagination deified as her artist-hero.

Moreover, the discrepancy between perceptions of grief in folklore is a consequence of the death of her Romanticism.

We (i.e. outsiders) naturally perceive the death of the Romantic as the death of Romantic aesthetics. Hence the lists upon lists of things that Taylor mourns instead of celebrates.

Taylor seems to grieve her Romantic artist-hero. Imaginative capacity predicates an artist-hero self-image, so conversely the death of the Romantic strips imagination of its power. The projected “fantasy, history, and memory” [8] of folklore indeed unnerves rather than comforts. The best example of this is from a corollary of the geographic metanarrative. Grief traces geography which traces life, and life leaks from densely populated areas to sparsely populated areas (it begins in the City and ends in the Outside World). Metaphorical setting, a product of imagination, aids the Romantic’s unbecoming. So, imagination is not a “synthesizing faculty” for reconciling difference; it is instead a faculty that divides.

Discriminating between the death of Romanticism in general and the death of Taylor’s Romanticism contextualizes folklore’s highly individualized grief. It is hard to argue that Taylor Swift will ever be unimaginative. But if we assume that she subscribes to a Romantic philosophy, then it follows that confronting the limits of the imagination is, to her, akin to a reckoning with mortality, a limit of the self.

——

folklore follows the stages of Taylor’s artistic grief. The album ends with Taylor accepting of the death of her Romanticism and being reborn into a new life. The final trio of songs, set ‘of’ the Suburb, Coastal Town, and Outside World in turn, frame the album’s solitary denouement.

In truth, “peace” is hardly grounded in Suburban geography. The nuance in it certainly makes it a thematic contemporary of other songs belonging to the Suburb, however. And consider: the events of “peace” are after the coming-of-age, the City; defining geographic features of the Coastal Town and Outside World are referenced in the future tense; an interior wall, the closest thing to Suburban home geography, is referenced in the present tense:

Our coming-of-age has come and gone

//

But I’m a fire and I’ll keep your brittle heart warm

If your cascade ocean wave blues come

//

You paint dreamscapes on the wall

//

And you know that I’d swing with you for the fences

Sit with you in the trenches

Per tense and the geographic metanarrative, “peace” is Suburban and is the first story of this trio. “hoax” and “the lakes” trivially follow (in that order) by their own geography.

The trio is clearly a story about Taylor and her muse. Understanding perspective in these songs will help us reconcile the lovers’ story and the geographic metanarrative.

We must compare lines in “peace” and “hoax” to determine who is speaking in those songs and when. Oft-repeated imagery makes it challenging to find a distinguishing detail local only to the trio. I draw attention to the affectionate nickname “darling”:

And it’s just around the corner, darlin’

'Cause it lives in me

Darling, this was just as hard

As when they pulled me apart

These two mentions are the only such ones in folklore. Whoever sings the first verse of “peace” must sing the bridge of “hoax” too.

“hoax” adds that the chorus singer’s melancholy is because of their faithless lover:

Don't want no other shade of blue but you

No other sadness in the world would do

Augmenting Lover is an undercurrent of sadness to which Taylor alludes with the color blue. By a basic understanding of that album, Taylor sings the “hoax” chorus.

The fire and color metaphors in tandem make the “hoax” verse(s) and bridge from the perspective of the lover who is burned and dimmed by the energy of their partner, the “peace” chorus singer:

I am ash from your fire

//

But what you did was just as dark

But I’m a fire and I’ll keep your brittle heart warm

Finally, a motif of an unraveling aligns the “hoax” verse(s) and bridge singer:

You knew it still hurts underneath my scars

From when they pulled me apart

//

My kingdom come undone

The “hoax” verse(s), chorus, and bridge are all sung by the same person.

In sum: Taylor sings the first verse of “peace” and her lover sings the chorus of “peace.” (See this post for more on “peace.”) Taylor alone sings “hoax.” “the lakes” is undoubtedly from Taylor’s perspective too.

Now let’s examine “peace” more closely:

Our coming-of-age has come and gone

Suddenly this summer, it’s clear

I never had the courage of my convictions

As long as danger is near

And it’s just around the corner, darlin’

‘Cause it lives in me

No, I could never give you peace

But I’m a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm

If your cascade, ocean wave blues come

All these people think love’s for show

But I would die for you in secret

The devil’s in the details, but you got a friend in me

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Taylor’s lover has the temerity to die for her in secret. We can infer from the first verse that Taylor’s coming-of-age brings not the courage her lover possesses but clarity about an unsustainable habit. She realizes that she cherishes youthful fantasies of life (such as “this summer,” à la “august”) for mettle. This apparently knocks her out of her reverie.

The recognition that being an artist-hero hurts her muse frames the death of Taylor’s Romanticism. It is impossible for Taylor to both manage an unpleasant reality and construct a more peaceful one using her Romantic imagination. The rift between her true lived experience (“interior journey”) and the experience of her art (“development of the self”) is what fuels alienation from Romance. The artist is unstitched from the hero.

“hoax” continues along this line of reasoning. In this song, she admits that she has been hurt by herself:

My twisted knife

My sleepless night

My winless fight

This has frozen my ground

As well as by her lover:

My best laid plan

Your sleight of hand

My barren land

I am ash from your fire

And by others:

You knew it still hurts underneath my scars

From when they pulled me apart

The bridge marks is the turning point where she lets go of of her youth and adulthood, both of which are tied to her Romanticism through geography:

You know I left a part of me back in New York

You knew the hero died so what’s the movie for?

You knew it still hurts underneath my scars

From when they pulled me apart

You knew the password so I let you in the door

You knew you won so what’s the point of keeping score?

You knew it still hurts underneath my scars

From when they pulled me apart

Of utmost importance is the very first line. The muse to whom Taylor addresses “hoax” is said to have been present at Taylor’s side through all of her struggles (“you knew”). The first line reveals that the lover did not know that Taylor left a part of herself back in New York (“you know [now]”). Taylor is only sharing her newfound realization as she stands on the precipice of the Coastal Town.

Nearly imperceptible though this syntactic difference is, it is an unmistakable reprise of the effect of the verses and chorus of “cardigan.” (Coincidentally, references to New York connect the songs.) “Knew” and “know” in both songs underscore a difference between what a character remembers (or had previously experienced) and what they understand in the current moment (or have just come to realize). Betty realizes at the very moment that she narrates “cardigan” that it was a mistake to excuse James’ behavior as total ignorance and youthful selfishness. Taylor realizes in “hoax” that she can no longer cling to youth, the romanticization of her youth, or romanticization of the romanticization of her youth. The youth in her is gone forever because she is no longer attached to the City. The adult in her has also matured for she is past the Suburb as well. The Coastal Town thus very appropriately stages the death of her Romantic.

Anyone who listens to Taylor’s music has been trained to connect geography to the vitality of Romantic artist-hero Taylor. In short, aestheticized geography renders Taylor’s Romantic autobiography. By letting go of the parts of her connected to geography, Taylor abandons the Romantic aesthetics both she and listeners associate with location. Divorcing from aesthetics also pre-empts romanticization of location in the future. The bridge of “hoax” is thus most easily summarized as the moment when any fondness for and predisposition towards Romance crumbles completely.

Lastly, we must pay special attention to micro-geography in the “hoax” chorus. We recall from “the last great american dynasty” and “this is me trying” the insanity that consumes the characters who contemplate the cliffs. The Coastal Town is not a beautiful place to die; one is graceless when moribund:

They say she was seen on occasion

Pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea

I’ve been having a hard time adjusting

//

Pulled the car off the road to the lookout

Could’ve followed my fears all the way down

From “peace” we know that Taylor’s lover is willing to die for her, in particular if Taylor’s sadness becomes too great (i.e. if she goes to the sea).

But I’m a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm

If your cascade, ocean wave blues come

All these people think love’s for show

But I would die for you in secret

The “hoax” chorus is when Taylor’s sadness balloons. Taylor the Romantic is ready to die:

Stood on the cliffside screaming, "Give me a reason"

Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in

Don't want no other shade of blue but you

No other sadness in the world would do

Remember Rebekah, pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea. Taylor is in this same position, on the cliffs, facing the water. Why is she screaming? Taylor is yelling down at her lover, who has already died (in secret, of course) and is in the water below waiting to catch her. (“I’m always waiting for you to be waiting below,” anyone?) Taylor’s singular faith is in her lover, and Taylor wants them to promise to catch her when she falls. In the end, though, the inherent danger nullifies what the lover could do to convince Taylor that the two would reunite safely below.

Taylor examines the water and realizes that her lover’s hue is combined with the blue of the sea. The sea cannot promise to catch her. Already mentally reeling, the admixture of sadnesses—in the setting which represents the culmination of life—makes Taylor recalcitrant. The Coastal Town has too much metaphorical baggage. It is not the place Taylor leaps from the cliffs. The first line of the “hoax” chorus uses “stood,” which implies that Taylor is reflecting on this dilemma after the fact.

The outro reinforces that the Coastal Town is where Taylor the Romantic comes to term with death but does not actually die:

My only one

My kingdom come undone

My broken drum

You have beaten my heart

Don’t want no other shade of blue but you

No other sadness in the world would do

Romantic imagination cannot protect Taylor from all the hurt she has suffered in reality. A calm settles over her as the chords modulate to the relative major key. She reflects on her journey: “my only one” corresponds to the first verse which introduces her solemn situation; “my kingdom come undone” ties to the self-inflicted hurt that froze her ground; “my broken drum // you have beaten my heart” supplements the second verse about suffering from her lover’s duplicity. The last lines are again her rationale for not jumping from the rocks. Finally, after the album-long grieving period, Taylor the Romantic has made peace with her inevitable death.

Romanticism is Taylor’s giant which goes with her wherever she goes. Running, hiding, traveling, and uprooting are indeed the fool’s paradise in her previous albums. Impermanence of setting—roaming the world for self-culture, amusement, intoxication of beauty, and loss of sadness [9]—engenders an impermanence of self, which fuels the instinct to cling tightly to what does remain constant. Naturally, then, Romanticism is Taylor’s only enduring companion. It becomes the lens through which she understands the world, yet the rose-colored one which by virtue inspires problems on top of problems. Forevermore does her Romantic inspire a cycle of catharsis that plays out in real life. Thy beautiful kingdom come, then tragically come undone.

Taylor chooses to go to the Lakes to escape from the constraints of this cycle:

Take me to the Lakes where all the poets went to die

I don’t belong and, my beloved, neither do you

Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry

I’m setting off, but not without my muse

Of the death story in the “peace”/“hoax”/“the lakes” trio, it is impossible to ignore the mutualism of Taylor and her muse. Neither of them belong of this life—and ‘of’ American geography—anymore. Taylor’s last wish is to go to the Outside World and jump (“[set] off”) from the Windermere peaks with her muse, who is ever willing to both lead Taylor to the dark and follow her into it.

Taylor bids a final goodbye—appropriately, in the tongue of Romance—to the philosophy which has anchored her all this time:

I want auroras and sad prose

I want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet

'Cause I haven’t moved in years

And I want you right here

Romanticism, her art and life in tandem, brought Taylor what she values: union with her muse in the privacy of nature and her imagination. The final ode holds respect.

Finally, her death. The journey of grief concludes with Taylor both accepting death and, fascinatingly, being reborn into a new life:

A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground

With no one around to tweet it

While I bathe in cliffside pools

With my calamitous love and insurmountable grief

In keeping with metaphorical geography, old life dwindling in water is exactly concurrent with new life flourishing on land.

Observe that the rebirth concerns ice frozen ground, an element of “hoax,” which is set in the Coastal Town. The rebirth must happen back in America even though the death happens at the Lakes.

Despite the imagery, this is not a Romantic rebirth. Begetting a new life is the juxtaposition of two things Taylor once romanticized toward opposite extremes—a red rose for beauty and an ice frozen ground for tragedy—with her simple refusal that either be distorted as externalities of her experience.

This final stanza is wide open for interpretation with regards to the story of the two lovers. It allows a priori all permutations of Taylor and/or her muse experiencing rebirth as the red rose and/or the frozen ground:

Taylor and her lover experience a rebirth together

Taylor is the red rose and her lover is the ice frozen ground

Taylor is the ice frozen ground and her lover is the red rose

Taylor and her lover are indivisible: they are both the rose and the frozen ground

Taylor alone experiences a rebirth

Taylor is the rose

Taylor is the ice frozen ground

Taylor is the rose + ice frozen ground

The lover alone experiences a rebirth

The lover is the rose

The lover is the ice frozen ground

The lover is the rose + frozen ground

(2) and (3) make death at the end of “the lakes” purely sacrificial. This is inconsistent with the disproportionate emphasis placed on the lovers’ mutualism. I am thus inclined to dismiss (2) and (3) as consequences of combinatorics.

There are also two interpretations of the final lines of the bridge:

Taylor the Romantic is the implied ‘I’ overcome with grief; her muse is her calamitous love with whom she bathes

Taylor the Romantic possesses both calamitous love and insurmountable grief; her lover, as per usual, dies with her in secret

It is unclear which is the truth. Still, (1) is relatively straightforward: there are two entities said to bathe in the Lakes and two entities said to be involved in reincarnation.

There need not be ‘parity’ between old life and new (reincarnated) life with respect to the lovers’ relationship status. If Taylor’s muse dies, does her relationship dissolve? Or must her muse, who dies at Taylor’s side, be reborn at her side too? If Taylor declares her devotion to her lover before her death, does that ensure that they are together in perpetuity? Or is that sentiment purely a relic of her past life, in which case her love disappears anew? Perhaps the invisible string tying the lovers together bonds them in eternal life. Perhaps the string snaps. Which is the blessing and which is the curse?

Whatever you make of ‘parity’ in reincarnation, it is important to remember that Taylor insists the relationship between her and her muse is at least a spiritual or divine one—if not also a worldly one—for it exists in conjunction with her own metaphysic.

How does reincarnation betray Romanticism?

A. Taylor is the red rose and the lover is the ice frozen ground.

Taylor as the rose does not trivially align with a bygone Romanticism, for the rose epitomizes Romance. Key, therefore, is the line about tweeting. Taylor abhors the practice of cataloguing and oversharing in service of knowing something completely—effectively ‘modern’ Romanticism.

Digital overexposure is an occupational hazard [10], but Taylor refuses to let ‘modern’ Romanticism to become invasive this time around. New life shall not be defiled by social media. It shall remain pure by individual will. Though Taylor’s rebirth into a new life happens on land in America, that it does not become a hyperbole of local Twitter is the proverbial nail in the coffin of Romanticism, distortion in service of aesthetic.

Rose imagery also draws a direct parallel to “The Lucky One,” Taylor’s self-proclaimed meditation [11] on her worst fears of stardom. The “Rose Garden” in this song contextualizes the “lucky” one’s disappearance from the spotlight:

It was a few years later

I showed up here

And they still tell the legend of how you disappeared

How you took the money and your dignity, and got the hell out

They say you bought a bunch of land somewhere

Chose the Rose Garden over Madison Square

And it took some time, but I understand it now

Emphasis on individual choice in the aforementioned star’s return to normalcy bears a striking resemblance to the individualistic philosophy of “the lakes,” as exemplified by Taylor and her muse choosing to jump from the Windermere peaks and Taylor keeping her rose off social media. Mention of a “legend” that describes disappearance and simultaneous return elsewhere is another connection to the “the lakes.”

Taylor as the rose could alternatively represent a chromatic devolution of true love (“I once believed love was burnin’ red // but it’s golden”). That is, becoming a rose suggests she may have changed her mind back to believing that love is burning red. This more generally represents returning to the beginning of a journey that began in the Red era. Perhaps Taylor sees Red as the beginning of her calamitous Romanticism. She realizes by folklore the fears which she surveyed in “The Lucky One,” so choosing a new life presents an opportunity to protect post-Speak Now Taylor from self-inflicted wounds which fester and prove fatal to her Romantic. (In essence…time travel.)

Taylor’s lover, ice frozen ground, is reborn frigid not blazing, the opposite of their raging fire. Taming the lover’s wild essence renders it impossible for them to be a Romantic muse in a new life. If the two lovers do indeed share an eternal love, then death reveals a conscious choice not to glorify it.

Additionally, Taylor’s artist-hero imagination has no power in her new life. Taylor and her lover have effectively switched spots. All we previously knew of the lover’s secrets and secret death was from what Taylor wrote, so Taylor (for lack of a better phrase) concealed her lover. The lover, ice frozen ground, is now the one concealing Taylor, the rose. As a smothering but not razing force, Taylor’s lover thus is reincarnated into the role of a public protector. Reincarnation reveals that the death of Romanticism is abetted through the death of secrecy, which always allows distortion of truth.

Another possibility: the secrecy surrounding the lover is that they were the ice frozen ground. If Taylor confirms that the lover was something ‘tragic’ before, then after the death of Romanticism they counterintuitively may become beautiful. Or, the lover continues to be tragic, and paramount again is Taylor’s choice not to sensationalize her muse.

B. Taylor is the ice frozen ground and the lover is the red rose.

Many of the themes above apply to this interpretation too.

Taylor reborn as ice frozen ground does not change her essence from “hoax.” By not ‘shaking off’ a sadness with her rebirth, she subverts the usual expectation—a product of the many years devoted to fixing any and all criticism [12]—of artist-hero Taylor Swift.

The lover reborn as the red rose means their being surfaces where they once were hidden and/or that they are not the golden love they had been in reputation, Lover, and “invisible string.” New life brings the bright, burning “red” emotions. Either what was once very bad is now very good and vice versa, or these emotions are simply not very anything because Taylor doesn’t want to sensationalize them as a pastiche of Red. If Taylor’s love is eternal, then she will be more subdued when sharing it; if it is not eternal, then she will simply move on.

This interpretation implies that Taylor’s Rose Garden is eternal love without the necessity of elevating her partner to Romantic muse status. No one being around to tweet the rose bursting through the ice means that Taylor alone gets to appreciate her lover for their pure essence before modern society does—lest the lover be perceived at all.

C. Taylor and her lover are indivisible: they are both the rose and the frozen ground

Taylor’s “twisted knife”/“sleepless night”/“winless fight” froze her ground but her lover’s “sleight of hand” made the land barren, unable to sustain life. The two lovers are emotionally at odds, but Romanticism acts as the “synthesizing faculty” which unites them in their old life.

The metaphor of the rose and frozen ground does not work without each part. It is possible that the lovers remain equally united in their new life; the lovers’ spiritual connection yields unity after reincarnation. Abiogenesis is therefore the phenomenon which betrays Romanticism. The lovers exist alongside each other naturally, not because they are opposites which Romanticism has forced together.

This is probably the most lighthearted interpretation of the last stanza in “the lakes.” Extreme hardship helps the lovers grow, and they remain intertwined through eternity.

——

The geographic elegy of folklore is that for Taylor’s giant, her Romantic, something both treasured and despised right until its end. (How appropriately meta.)

This raises the question: what replaces it?

Nothing.

folklore can—and perhaps should—be understood as a Transcendental work rather than a Romantic one. From this angle, Romanticism is that which prevented Taylor from connecting with something deeper within herself, something more eternal.

“Transcendental” does not mean “transcendent” or beyond human experience altogether, but something through which experience is made possible. [13]

Transcendentalism and Romanticism were two literary and philosophical movements that occurred during roughly the same time period [14].  Romanticism dominated England, Germany, and France in the late 18th and early 19th centuries slightly before Transcendentalism swept through America in the mid-1800s.

The two movements heavily influenced [15] each other. Transcendentalists and Romantics shared an appreciation for nature, doubt of (Calvinist) religious dogma, and an ambivalence or dislike of society and its institutions as corrupting forces. We see Taylor align herself with these ideas by the end of the album. “the lakes” holds a reverence of the natural world, disregard of predestination, and contempt for Twitter.

But Transcendentalism sharply diverged from Romanticism along the axis of faith. Transcendentalism thrived as a religious movement that emphasized individualism as a means for self-growth and, in particular, achieving a personal, highly spiritualized [16] understanding of God:

For many of the transcendentalists the term “transcendentalism” represented nothing so technical as an inquiry into the presuppositions of human experience, but a new confidence in and appreciation of the mind’s powers, and a modern, non-doctrinal spirituality. The transcendentalist, Emerson states, believes in miracles, conceived as “the perpetual openness of the human mind to new influx of light and power…”

Romantics, for instance, viewed nature as a source of imagination, inspiration, and enlightenment, whereas Transcendentalists saw nature as a vessel for exploring spirituality. Transcendentalists believed in an innate goodness of people for possession of a divine inner light [17]. Occupied with the perverse and disparate, Romantics believed people were capable both of great good and terrible evil.

It���s tempting to scope Taylor’s shift from Romanticism to Transcendentalism to this album alone. It’s true that folklore is filled with individualism, a hallmark of Transcendentalist philosophy. However, I argue that spirituality reveals a journey towards Transcendentalism that began well before folklore.

Consider the evolution of faith from reputation to Lover. Taylor places more emphasis on personal spirituality as she becomes increasingly disillusioned with organized religion/religious dogma. In “Don’t Blame Me,” Taylor defies religious convictions in favor of chasing the high of her forbidden love. Then her quiet and private life with her lover in “Cornelia Street” advances whatever traditional religious beliefs she possessed towards a self-defined spirituality (“sacred new beginnings that became my religion”). Individual spiritual enlightenment and religious conviction become mutually exclusive by the end of Lover, for the lovers would still worship their love even if it is a “false god.”

The final scene proves most important for establishing the album’s philosophy. In the end of “the lakes.” Taylor chooses death and is reincarnated into new life, kept pure also by individual will. (It should be noted that Transcendentalism was heavily influenced [18] by Indian religions, of which reincarnation is a central tenet.) Choosing reincarnation—to the extent that one even can—reflects a greater understanding of oneself. Choice, the ultimate power granted in the self, engenders spirituality. It is the means by which one follows a divine, guiding spark (i.e. “inner light”) in search of connection with others and the natural world. The album’s ending marries individualism with spirituality, which makes Taylor a true champion of Transcendentalism.

——

Transcendentalism is considered one of the most dominant American intellectual movements. Exploring the significance of Transcendentalist Taylor Swift is a rather unimaginative end to this essay. If we try hard enough, we will always be able to connect its philosophy to any art that exists in conversation with American culture.

Perhaps a more gripping conclusion comes from the assertion that philosophy doesn’t matter…

…at least, not in the way this essay regards philosophy as the ultimate Point.

So identifiable is the geographic motif in Taylor’s work that it is nearly impossible to ignore. This is especially true for folklore, an album that would literally not be folkloric if not for the blending of reality and fiction, real location and setting elevated as metaphor. So moving, moreover, is the grief at folklore’s core that it is natural to wonder what else it could represent. Hence, this essay’s charade of poking around both to see if they convey a deeper meaning.

A strong philosophical foundation establishes the ethos of art, that with which we resonate. However, we will never know to what philosophy Taylor subscribes. The interaction between her beliefs, creative spirit, and innate sense of self will always be a mystery. Any and all conclusions about the philosophical foundations of her art thus (1) are highly subjective and (2) reveal more about the ones making them than about Taylor herself.

Ironically, it is paramount to appreciate Taylor’s (Romantic) style above all else. The ways she uses basic building blocks of literature—theme, imagery, mood, setting, to name a few—piques curiosity. After all, without those building blocks, one would not be able to cultivate (should they so desire) an interest in the metaphorical, philosophical, or otherwise profound.

——

Disclaimer: this essay references (explicitly and implicitly, by way of citing expanded theoretical work) the ideas of Emerson and Heidegger, two preeminent thinkers whose ideas have had especially deep and lasting impacts on society. They are also two individuals noted to have had poor and even abhorrent political/personal views. I do not condone their views by referencing any ideas connected to these individuals (done mostly in service of rigor). I furthermore leave the task of generating nuance to those who dedicate their lives to critical examination of these individuals’ personal philosophies and the impact of their work on society.

[dailyexo]

[INTERVIEW] Lay - 201216 Don’t Bore Us: “M-Pop star Lay Zhang tells us about his music, dreams, and starting his own company”

"Chinese Megastar Lay Zhang wants to bring ‘China to the world’ with his music. He talks to Don’t Bore Us about how he plans to achieve his dreams.

For most of us, our dreams are conditional. For us, they remain in the abstract most of the time, attached to phrases like ‘It would be good if…’ or ‘I wish I…’. Not for Lay Zhang. Lay Zhang speaks in dreams. In his mind, he picks them out of the abstract and parks them on the road to his goals. Then, he sets into motion a cause and effect cycle, where each step leads to the realization of that dream.

“The word dream is a strange one,” he wrote in his autobiography Standing Firm at 24. “You start with a dream, but you have to fulfill everything in reality. Of course, it’s not really that you’re dreaming, because someone once told me, a dream is actually what a person’s heart looks like.”

Despite his status as one of China’s most famous stars, it’s this spirit that still is the condensation of Zhang’s ethos as an artist. Born in Changsha in the Chinese province of Hunan as Zhang Yixing, he was no stranger to the world of entertainment as a child star. In 2008, he auditioned for trainee-ship at SM Entertainment, largely considered the progenitor of modern-day K-pop, and passed. Four years later, he debuted as EXO’s Lay, an act that turned the tide for K-pop in the 2010s.

Home, however, was never very far away — after flitting between South Korea and China for work for sometime, the lengthy schedules eventually made him shift base to mainland China, laying the groundwork for Lay Zhang. His first studio album, Lay 02 Sheep, broke five records on the first day of digital release on the Chinese music service QQ Music. His second, NAMANANA, ranked No. 21 on the Billboard 200 chart, making him the highest-ranking M-pop artist on the chart to date.

It’s an ideal trajectory for anyone with dreams as big as Zhang: every new release came with new records and renown. Eventually, however, Zhang realized what his work was missing: a piece of his roots. He wanted to show the world “what China is really about.”

And so he said: “Let there be LIT.”

Named after a play on the Chinese word for lotus, ‘lián huā’, LIT — released in two parts over the course of 2020 — puts Zhang’s Chinese identity at its core. As he weaves the sounds of the Hulusi, Guzheng and Gong together with hip-hop, R&B, and Latin, Zhang not only creates his own genre (which he calls “mixed Mando-pop”), but also nurtures a new dream: one where Mando-pop frees itself of the labels of being “vapid” and “vain” and presents new avenues of experimentation and cultural triumph.

“In the future, mixed will be king. Every work, every genre can be mixed with each other; every language can mix with another. That’s where we go.” he says.

The way to this “mixed” world might be long, but Zhang will soon have company on the way. Earlier in 2020, he announced the establishing of his own company, Chromosome Entertainment, with a set focus to not only train the next generation of Chinese idols, but also to include Chinese culture and history as an integral part of their artistry.

DBU caught up with Lay Zhang to talk about Chromosome Entertainment, his music, how he is going to take his company to ‘infinity’, and his adorable cats.

Don’t Bore Us: Why did you think this was the right time to start your own company?

Lay Zhang: I have always wanted to have my own company and leave my mark in the world. I feel I need to think less and do more. I wanted to do it no matter how difficult it would be. If I kept waiting for the right moment, I might never do it. So, I created the Chromosome Entertainment Group.

DBU: Is there anything that you’ll focus on teaching the trainees that you yourself didn’t get during your trainee years?

Lay Zhang: Our trainees will learn more and more about Chinese culture and Chinese history.

DBU: Speaking of your music over the past year, we have to talk about LIT. We saw you expand into genres that you had never experimented with before. While Part 1 was a mix of traditional Chinese sounds, Part 2 had more modern inspirations such as R&B, Hip-hop, Latin, and others. Which of these sounds comes more naturally to you, and which one is more difficult to explore?

Lay Zhang: I just tried a lot of genres. Since I was young, I have been singing in Chinese and listening to pop music, so I find writing R&B is easier, since it is similar. With traditional Chinese music, it feels like second nature, since I grew up with it.

Latin and Hip-hop is very new to me, but Latin caught my ear because it’s easy to dance to. I’ve been listening to hip-hop and trap in the past few years. I think no matter what kind, I want to do a new genre. I want to call it M-pop because I think in the future, mixed will be king. Every work, every genre can be mixed with each other — every language can mix with each other, and that’s where we go.

DBU: Speaking of the incorporation of your native Chinese sounds into the songs on the first album, what is the most difficult part while looking for a middle-ground between culture and modernity?

Lay Zhang: You always want to respect the culture. We owe a lot to the past for giving us today: I cannot stress that enough. I understand that people have new tastes each year, so you want to make sure that you match the energy and the vibe of the year.

It’s hard to explain how I find the balance. I ask my friends and collaborators, what they feel. I took that into consideration [with LIT], and checked my gut feeling. Did I feel [like] it mixed my Chinese sound with the present or modern without losing it? It’s [a] feeling I get after listening to the record time after time in my car or in the studio.

DBU: With reference to bringing “China to the world”. How do you think LIT did that, apart from, of course, being a mash-up of different influences?

Lay Zhang: I think this album is the first of its kind in a way. It’s very unique: we brought together new and legendary producers to create beautiful music. We had traditional and modern day stories to showcase the idea of the past and the present, to show the world that Chinese artists can be creative. They can think more deeply about music. I want people to know that we are improving everyday. We are working hard. This is what LIT shows.

DBU: Historically, western audiences have thought of Mando-pop as being “very vain or bland.” You have always wanted to push forward Mixed Mando-pop through your work. How do you hope to change this perception of Mando-pop globally through your music?

Lay Zhang: It is a work in progress. We are still improving and developing M-pop. Since I was a child, I have always had big goals and dreams. I want to show the world what China is really about, that we are respectful people trying to better ourselves.

DBU: Your current approach to your work makes me curious. The words “one of China’s biggest celebrities” are often used in your context. With the fan-base and work you’ve built over the years, you could very well have taken the safer route and stuck to the previous sounds you have experimented with before, because anything you make is guaranteed to be a hit. So why is it important for you to keep making the kind of music you do, in the way you make it?

Lay Zhang: I want to challenge myself and see what I can do. I admit, I don’t always succeed, but I’d rather try different genres and sing in different languages to see what I am capable of. Like any artist, I want my music to reach more people, so you have to branch out and try new things, but at the same time, not lose who you are. I have great fans that support me and allow me to dream bigger. I want to pave the path for the next generation to share their music with the world.

DBU: You’ve worked both in South Korea and China. With K-pop having a moment in the global spotlight, what are some things that you feel M-pop could learn or borrow from K-pop?

Lay Zhang: I think it’s great that K-pop is having its moment. In M-pop, we need to put ourselves out there more. We need to meet fans in every city and town to create that one-on-one interaction. I think there are enough artists with quality music to match the artists in K-pop: we just need to focus on sharing Mando-pop.

DBU: For the past few years, you have been heavily involved in music reality shows geared towards bringing out China’s next musical stars. There was Idol Producer, Youth With You, Street Dance of China: what are your hopes from the next generation, and why this interest?

Lay Zhang: The next generation inspires me. Their dreams and efforts inspire me to work harder and be a good role model. I hope they can focus on creating great art and work that they can be proud of. Their work should speak for itself. If everyone can do this, they can do this. If everyone can do this, we can push the boundaries of music and art. We can create works that leave people in awe.

DBU: In the larger context of your artistry, what impact has this year had on you personally?

Lay Zhang: COVID-19 slowed my life down like everyone else. We have all experienced difficulties, but I was able to think about my music and career more clearly. I decided that I should go after the things I want as soon as I could. For my artistry, I realized I needed to focus on music I made, my company, and make music that really carried the culture and vibe of my country.

DBU: Observing your trajectory from when you just started out to now, I was thinking about how it is very clear where your professional priorities lie. What about personal ones? What are you focusing on personally in the coming year?

Lay Zhang: I think about this a lot, and it’s hard to separate my work and personal life. But I think I only have that much time before I run out of energy. I am always thirsty (laughs), so I know I won’t be able to continue this forever. I want to keep pushing until I can’t. So, then I can focus on my personal life knowing I gave it all to my career.

DBU: I asked some fans if they had anything to say to you, and most of them wanted me to relay the same thing: please take a well-deserved break! Now that LIT has had its successful run, is it time for a vacation, or is there more to come?

Lay Zhang: My cats give me a lot of confidence and happiness. They make it easier to face each day; it’s nice to know you have someone waiting for you at home. But I will take a vacation when I turn 40 (laughs). Of course, there is more to come: the trainees we are receiving are so talented. I am excited to create something that will hopefully last a long time, and will improve and uphold the entertainment industry in China."

Credit: Don't Bore Us.

[talabib]

How to Break Free From The 9 to 5 Grind And Find A More Meaningful Life.

What did you do last week? Was each day about getting up, going to work and coming home exhausted?

Is your house filled with gadgets and toys meant to distract you from the dreadfulness of those 50-, 60- or 70-hour work weeks?

In case you haven’t realized this for yourself, there’s little happiness to be found in devoting your life to a job that only provides you with a paycheck. And to make matters worse, the meaningless things we buy to make the job easier to cope with only serve to clutter up our lives and cause more anxieties and distractions.

As these post points out, it’s time to reprogram our minds and bodies away from the corporate culture of fast-food, disposable goods and instant gratification. With some simple techniques and a bit of effort, you can reclaim your life, declutter it of all that’s hollow and useless, and refill it with meaning and purpose.

Money and stressful jobs are not keys to happiness.

Many people grow up with the expectation that getting “a good job” is everything. From this perspective, true “success” is based on how good the job is – which is largely dependent upon the size of the paycheck. But the truth is: money doesn't buy happiness.

Even rich people will tell you that more money comes with more problems, including being so stressed that you resort to comfort eating, waste money on meaningless gadgets and constantly think about the future while never enjoying the present.

Success often comes at another great cost: very few hours to spend with loved ones. Hired help raises many children from families of success-oriented adults, just so their parents can spend more time earning money.

So, more often than not, the thing that money really buys is unhappiness. Ask yourself this: Is any stressful job worth having?

Ryan Nicodemus asked this question while working at what many would consider to be a great job. He was even on the rise, getting promoted to a managerial position, but the role came with 80-hour work weeks and huge amounts of responsibility and pressure. What it added up to was debilitating anxiety, stress and depression.

Nowadays, Nicodemus believes there is no amount of money to justify the toll a stressful job has on your mental health. However, when you’re wrapped up in the job-is-everything mentality, it feels like you always need to make more and more money.

Both Nicodemus and his friend, Joshua Fields Millburn, thought they would be happy once they hit $50,000 a year. But after reaching that milestone, the goal quickly crept up to $75,000, then $100,000 and so on. At no point did they feel satisfied.

Part of the reason for wanting more was that, as their paycheck grew, so did their financial commitments and responsibilities – in the form of loans, cars and mortgages. Eventually, enough was enough and they both quit their jobs and decided to live on less money.

It was at this point that Millburn and Nicodemus finally experienced happiness. All thanks to their decision to adopt a minimalist lifestyle of working and consuming less.

But as we’ll see, the minimalist ethos is about more than money and work; it’s about letting go of everything that holds you back.

To begin your shift to minimalism, pay off your debts and declutter your surroundings.

If you were to ask yourself “What are the anchors that are dragging me down?” the answer might not be readily apparent. But there’s a good chance that you have some form of debt, be it a mortgage, credit cards or student loans, that weighs heavily on your well-being.

That’s why the first and most crucial step to minimalist living is to pay off all your debts.

At some point, you may have been fooled by credit-card ads or a banker telling you to take advantage of a certain mortgage, but let’s be clear: there’s no such thing as “good debt.” All debt is bad, plain and simple.

As Joshua Milburn was preparing for a minimalist existence, he followed a strict budget and spent two years saving as much as he could to pay off his debts. This meant a hundred weeks of no vacations, no restaurants and no luxuries of any kind. But it was worth every minute for the relief he felt in finally paying off his debts. He was now free to live the life he wanted.

While you’re decluttering your finances, you should also turn your attention to reducing your material clutter.

First of all, it’s important to recognize that your possessions aren’t a meaningful statement about who you are as a person. Instead, you should ask yourself whether your belongings truly help you live in the present or if they prevent you from doing so.

For decades, Joshua Milburn’s mother had four sealed boxes in her home that she never opened. They contained every scrap of work John had brought home from elementary school, from handwriting tests to drawings.

Millburn understood that she was hoarding these things in an effort to hold on to her little boy, but the cherished and meaningful things in life aren’t objects, they’re our memories and relationships. This doesn’t mean you need to throw away everything, but Milburn’s mom could keep one meaningful drawing in a frame rather than four sealed-up boxes.

By decluttering, we not only give ourselves more physical breathing room, but we also provide more mental breathing room. Having objects everywhere vying for our attention can easily weigh us down mentally.

Minimalism is also about reducing the amount of junk you put into your body.

There’s no shortage of diets or fitness programs out there. In fact, the sheer amount can seem overwhelming. But you can avoid trendy diets and temporary fixes by reprogramming the way you think about your body.

From now on, think of it as a machine: when you give it high-quality fuel, you’ll allow it to perform at its maximum potential. With this frame of mind, it should seem obvious that junk food, like processed and prepackaged goods, should be avoided.

This kind of food is full of additives and preservatives that add zero nutritional value to your diet. All they provide are empty calories, especially sugar, which are terrible for your health. Sure, these foods may taste good in the moment, but they can often make you feel awful afterward. So any temporary pleasure is far outweighed by the long-term damage they can cause to both your physical health and your mood.

A good decluttering regimen should also include dairy and bread. We’ve been eating wheat and pasteurized milk for a relatively short period in human history – only since the invention of agriculture. Our bodies were never designed to digest the vast quantities of dairy and bread contained in the average modern diet.

So, whether you have a gluten or lactose intolerance or not, you can benefit from cutting back on these foods and replacing them with natural whole foods like vegetables, fish and beans. Once you’ve made this adjustment to your diet, you’ll soon find yourself with a surplus of energy. And this is a good thing to have for the next step: getting the most out of your body.

Fitness is something that works best when you have a constant growth mind-set, which means you’re always aiming for more than last time – whether it’s a faster running time, more repetitions or heavier weights.

To adopt this mind-set, you need to demand more from yourself. To help make this happen, you can reprogram your thinking away from “I should...” to “I MUST...”

Don’t tell yourself “I should go out jogging three times this week;” instead say “I MUST go for a run tomorrow at 8 a.m.” With some persistence, you can even make yourself accomplish new things.

Maybe you can’t do a single pull-up now, but you can probably hang from the bar for 30 seconds. So, do that and then tomorrow, hang for 40 seconds, and then continue doing more until you build up enough arm strength to do a pull-up.

Change and improvement don’t have to impact your authenticity; they can lead to better relationships.

Friends and loved ones are important. If you’re currently feeling isolated or unhappy with your relationships, it may be time for another round of reprogramming, this time to become more accepting of others as well as appearing more acceptable to others. The first step to making this happen is to have a willingness to change.

It’s hopeless to try and change other people – in fact, it’s cruel to even attempt to do so – but it is possible to improve yourself.

However, you may be resistant to the idea of change if you think that there’s nothing wrong with being your “authentic self.” But it’s important to take an honest look at your behavior and recognize when you’re doing something that upsets people or is a turnoff.

If you’re unhappy about being shy, a poor listener or overweight, don’t think “that’s who I am.” Instead, do something about it and be proactive in your self-improvement.

Changing yourself isn’t betraying your authenticity; it’s simply a way to attract better relationships. Would you rather be lonely or would you rather work on yourself so that you’re a better conversationalist and a more appealing person?

Another avenue toward self-improvement is to be more accepting of those with different opinions than your own.

Don’t think that you’re meant to find someone who thinks and shares the same opinions as you – this is just another fallacy. Relationships aren’t about hobbies and tastes; they’re about love, so you should accept that people are going to think differently than you.

If more people were open-minded about whom they hang out with, there would be far fewer lonely people in the world!

So, don’t just tolerate and accept your loved ones' peculiar habits; respect and appreciate them!

Let’s say your loved one has a hobby you find annoying, like collecting action figures. After all, isn’t a silly collection the opposite of minimalist living? Actually no, especially if they get a lot of meaning and pleasure out of that collection. So don’t deter them; understand that the collection enriches your partner’s life and therefore should be cherished as part of what makes them the person you love.

With this in mind, here are the four steps to help you better tolerate, accept, respect and appreciate the person you’re with:

Tolerate their unique hobby or passion;

Accept that it will always be there;

Respect the effort your partner puts into their pastime;

Appreciate the hobby as a part of your life because it is an important part of your loved one’s life.

Don't let work define you as a person.

Just as we saw the importance of breaking away from the idea that money and work are the most important things in life, so too should we avoid thinking that our jobs define us.

Think of it this way: You’re a complicated person with a variety of interests and talents, some of which make money, some of which cost money. So you’re far more than just your job. Nevertheless, it's easy to fall into the trap of letting your job title define you.

Many people will find a job in a certain industry and feel they should stick with that industry for the rest of their lives as if it's a part of who they are. But remember, a job is just a job. In fact, your job might even be an anchor that weighs you down.

Consider this: your job isn’t even one of the top five most important aspects of life. Those are: your health, your relationships, your passions, your personal growth, and your contribution to society.

These are the aspects of your life that make sense to measure yourself against, not your job title or how much money you make.

This is why you should avoid the annoying small-talk question of “So, what do you do?” This is often asked early on in a conversation as if it were the most important characteristic of someone’s life and not just a different way of asking, “So, how much money do you make?” Instead, why not ask them, “What are you into?” or “What are you passionate about?”

And if someone asks you, “What do you do?” you can redirect the conversation by saying something like “Oh, I do a lot of things, but my current passion is gardening. How about you?”

For more freedom, reduce your dependency on money.

One of the primary purposes behind minimalism is to spend less of your life working at a job. Naturally, this means finding ways to become less dependent on a big paycheck.

There are a number of ways to help with this, including learning how to make things yourself rather than buying them, and selling off the needless clutter in your home. But the next reprogramming you should learn is how to live on a small income.

The first step here is to create a monthly budget and stick to it. So start by making a list of needs, which includes all your fundamental household costs, such as food, pet food, gas, electricity, insurance and transportation. These are basic needs that have to be met, so there’s no getting around them.

Next, start a second list of wants, which might include categories like new clothes and entertainment. Now, at the start of each month, separate your extra money so that both of these categories are given a budget. And to make sure you don’t break the budget, you can separate them into different spending accounts.

Remember, every dollar in the budget should be accounted for. So, if you dip into the entertainment budget to buy new shoes, you’ll have to wait until next month to go out to that restaurant.

To reduce hard feelings and make things fair, get the entire household to agree on the budget. Since everyone has a say, there should be a feeling of mutual responsibility for making it work. For example, by making the kids part of the process, they’ll know not to bother trying to get extra money for video games when that money is being set aside for school supplies. But it’s still wise to set up a safety net.

Once you get yourself set up, you’ll find that it isn’t hard to live comfortably with less money, but that doesn’t mean life won’t surprise you with something unexpected, like an illness or the car breaking down.

This is why it’s smart and sensible to establish a safety net of at least $500 to $1,000 at first. You should not only do this as soon as possible, but you should also put the money in a place where it isn’t easy to spend.

Once you're out of debt, you can add to this safety net. And with your new found powers of budgeting, you’ll find that this fund can grow quite quickly.

Make life more rewarding and purposeful by taking on difficult work that contributes to society.

So you’ve cut all your anchors and are finally free from your dependencies. The only question now is: What are you going to do with your newfound freedom?

Sure, you have your new plans to get healthy, fit and friendly, but you won’t get far without a strong purpose in your life. And true purpose only comes from a meaningful life that allows you to actively contribute to society.

You might think that donating money to a charity means doing enough for society, but you can only have it be meaningful and purposeful if you’re directly involved.

What you’re sure to find is that the most rewarding activities are the ones that are the most challenging.

Some activities are easy, like reading in the park or swimming in the pool, and while easy activities are fun, they aren’t very purposeful.

Challenging activities, on the other hand, might make us feel uncomfortable while we’re in the middle of them, but afterward, they make us feel fantastic. This can include child rearing or running a marathon – there are a lot of difficulties involved, but the rewards make these efforts feel worthwhile, and they become the most significant experiences in our lives.

That’s why these are the kind of events we should seek and build our lives with, especially when we don’t just contribute to our lives but to society as a whole.

Fortunately, there is no shortage of charities looking for volunteers for this kind of meaningful work, whether it’s building affordable homes for the poor or turning vacant lots into community gardens. This is tough work, but it’ll be extremely rewarding when you’re looking back on it.

You can still make these tasks fun, too. If you’re building homes for the needy, there’s a good chance some days will be rainy or cold, and morale might take a dip, but you could rally together to sing songs. Or you could have an emergency supply of hot chocolate with marshmallows.

But unlike a cushy office job, where you may not even understand how your work contributes anything of value, this difficult work comes with a strong sense of purpose that will make your days a lot easier to get through – no matter how bad the conditions might get.

You are not your job, and you don’t need as much money as you think. You can restart your life by dispensing with all the “stuff’ you don’t need and the relationships that are dragging you down. Living simply will help you open up to and relish a more meaningful life.

[jcmorgenstern]

@superohclair oh god okay please know these are all just incoherent ramblings so like, idk, please feel free to add on or ignore me if im just wildly off base but this is a bad summary of what ive been thinking about and also my first titans/batman meta?? (also, hi!)

okay so for the disclaimer round: I am not an actual cultural studies major, nor do I have an extensive background in looking at the police/military industrial complex in media. also my comics knowledge is pretty shaky and im a big noob(I recently got into titans, and before that was pretty ignorant of the dceu besides batman) so I’ll kind of focus in on the show and stuff im more familiar with and apologize in advance?. basically im just a semi-educated idiot with Opinions, anyone with more knowledge/expertise please jump in! this is literally just the bullshit I spat out incoherently off the top of my head. did i mention im a comics noob? because im a comics noob.

so on a general level, I think we can all agree that batman as a cultural force is somewhat on the conservative side, if not simply due to its age and commercial positioning in American culture. there are a lot of challenges and nuances to that and it’s definitely expanding and changing as DC tries to position itself in the way that will...make the most money, but all you have to do is take a gander through the different iterations of the stories in the comics and it’ll smack you in the fucking face. like compare the first iteration of Jason keeping kids out of drugs to the titans version and you’ve got to at least chuckle. at the end of the day, this is a story about a (white male) billionaire who fights crime.

to be fair, I’d argue the romanticization of the police isn’t as aggressive as it could be—they are most often presented as corrupt and incompetent. However, considering the main cop characters depicted like Jim Gordon, the guys in Gotham (it’s been a while since I saw it, sorry) are often the romanticized “good few” (and often or almost always white cis/het men), that’s on pretty shaky ground. I don’t have the background in the comics strong enough to make specific arguments, so I’ll cede the point to someone who does and disagrees, but having recently watched a show that deals excellently with police incompetence, racism, and brutality (7 Seconds on Netflix), I feel at the very least something is deeply missing. like, analysis of race wrt police brutality in any aspect at all whatsoever.

I think it can be compellingly read that batman does heavily play into the military/police industrial complex due to its takes on violence—just play the Arkham games for more than an hour and you’ll know what I mean. to be a little less vague, even though batman as a franchise valorizes “psychiatric treatment” and “nonviolence,” the entire game seems pretty aware it characterizes treatment as a madhouse and nonviolence as breaking someone’s back or neck magically without killing them because you’re a “good guy.” while it is definitely subversive that the franchise even considers these elements at all, they don’t always do a fantastic job living up to them.

and then when you consider the fetishization of tools of violence both in canon and in the fandom, it gets worse. same with prisons—if anything it dehumanizes people in prisons even more than like, cop shows in general, which is pretty impressive(ly bad). like there’s just no nuance afforded and arkham is generally glamorized. the fact that one of the inmates is a crocodile assassin, I will admit, does not help. im not really sure how to mitigate that when, again, one of the inmates is a crocodile assassin, but I think my point still stands. fuck you, killer croc. (im just kidding unfuck him or whatever)

not to take this on a Jason Todd tangent but I was thinking about it this afternoon and again when thinking about that cop scene again and in many ways he does serve as a challenge to both batman’s ideology as well as the ideology of the franchise in general. his depiction is always a bit of a sticking point and it’s always fascinating to me to see how any given adaptation handles it. like Jason’s “”street”” origin has become inseparable from his characterization as an angry, brash, violent kid, and that in itself reflects a whole host of cultural stereotypes that I might argue occasionally/often dip into racialized tropes (like just imagine if he wasn’t white, ok). red hood (a play on robin hood and the outlaws, as I just realized...today) is in my exposure/experience mostly depicted as a villain, but he challenges batman’s no-kill philosophy both on an ethical and practical level. every time the joker escapes he kills a whole score more of innocent people, let alone the other rogues—is it truly ethical to let him live or avoid killing him for the cost of one life and let others die?

moreover, batman’s ““blind”” faith in the justice system (prisons, publicly-funded asylum prisons, courts) is conveniently elided—the story usually ends when he drops bad guy of the day off at arkham or ties up the bad guys and lets the police come etc etc. part of this is obviously bc car chases are more cinematic than dry court procedurals, but there is an alternate universe where bruce wayne never becomes batman and instead advocates for the arkham warden to be replaced with someone competent and the system overhauled, or in programs encouraging a more diverse and educated police force, or even into social welfare programs. (I am vaguely aware this is sometimes/often part of canon, but I don’t think it’s fair to say it’s the main focus. and again, I get it’s not nearly as cinematic).

overall, I think the most frustrating thing about the batman franchise or at least what I’ve seen or read of it is that while it does attempt to deal with corruption and injustice at all levels of the criminal justice system/government, it does so either by treating it as “just how life is” or having Dick or Jim Gordon or whoever the fuckjust wipe it out by “eliminating the dirty cops,” completely ignoring the non-fantasy ways these problems are dealt with in real life. it just isn’t realistic. instead of putting restrictions on police violence or educating cops on how to use their weapons or putting work into eradicating the culture of racism and prejudice or god basically anything it’s just all cinematized into the “good few” triumphing over the bad...somehow. its always unsatisfying and ultimately feels like lip service to me, personally.

this also dovetails with the very frustrating way mental health/”insanity” or “madness” is dealt with in canon, very typical of mainstream fiction. like for example:“madness is like gravity, all it takes is a little push.” yikes, if by ‘push’ you mean significant life stressors, genetic load, and environemntal influences,  then sure. challenge any dudebro joker fanboy to explain exactly what combination of DSM disorders the joker has to explain his “””insanity””” and see what happens. (these are, in fact, my plans for this Friday evening. im a hit at parties).

anyway I do really want to wax poetic about that cop scene in 1x06 so im gonna do just that! honestly when I first saw that I immediately sat up like I’d sat on a fucking tack, my cultural studies senses were tingling. the whole “fuck batman” ethos of the show had already been interesting to me, esp in s1, when bruce was basically standing in for the baby boomers and dick being our millennial/GenX hero. I do think dick was explicitly intended to appeal to a millennial audience and embody the millennial ethos. By that logic, the tension between dick and Jason immediately struck me as allegorical (Jason constantly commenting on dick being old, outdated, using slang dick doesn’t understand and generally being full of youthful obnoxious fistbumping energy).

Even if subconsciously on the part of the writers, jason’s over-aggressive energy can be read as a commentary on genZ—seen by mainstream millennial/GenX audiences as taking things too far. Like, the cops in 1x06 could have been Nick Zucco’s hired men or idk pretty much anyone, yet they explicitly chose cops and even had Jason explain why he deliberately went after them for being cops so dick (cop) could judge him for it. his rationale? he was beaten up by cops on the street, so he’s returning the favor. he doesn’t have the focused “righteous” rage of batman or dick/nightwing towards valid targets, he just has rage at the world and specifically the system—framed here as unacceptable or fanatical. as if like, dressing up like a bat and punching people at night is, um, totally normal and uncontroversial.

on a slightly wider scope, the show seems to internally struggle with its own progressive ethos—on the one hand, they hire the wildly talented chellah man, but on the other hand they will likely kill him off soon. or they cast anna diop, drawing wrath from the loudly racist underbelly of fandom, but sideline her. perhaps it’s a genuine struggle, perhaps they simply don’t want to alienate the bigots in the fanbase, but the issue of cops stuck out to me when I was watching as an social issue where they explicitly came down on one side over the other. jason’s characterization is, I admit and appreciate, still nuanced, but I’d argue that’s literally just bc he’s a white guy and a fan favorite. cast an actor of color as Jason and see how fast fandom and the writer’s room turns on him.

anyway i don’t really have the place to speak about what an explicitly nonwhite!cop!dick grayson would look like, but I do think it would be a fascinating and exciting place to start in exploring and correcting the kind of vague and nebulous complaints i raise above. (edit: i should have made more clear, i mean in the show, which hasn’t dealt with dick’s heritage afaik). also, there’s something to be said about the cop vs detective thing but I don’t really have the brain juice or expertise to say it? anyway if you got this far i hope it was at least interesting and again pls jump in id love to hear other people’s takes!!

tldr i took two (2) cultural studies classes and have Opinions

[soundsof71]

TURN IT UP! Joe Walsh with The James Gang, “Walk Away”, 1971

The James Gang was one of those bands that hit so much harder live than on their studio records that it’s almost impossible to believe that they’re the same guys. Their two 1971 albums offer the perfect contrast, Thirds (from whence comes this glorious single), and James Gang In Concert, recorded in May 1971 at Carnegie Hall and released later that year.

I’m surprised the hall was still standing when they were done. It’s the loudest slab of vinyl I’ve ever put on a turntable -- even with the volume turned all the way down, the racket coming straight out of the needle scraping through the grooves unamplified was flat out unbelievable. Very much in keeping with the ethos proclaimed in the liner notes of the previous year’s James Gang Rides Again, “Made Loud To Be Played Loud.”

This performance from Germany’s Beat Club, first aired July 24, 1971, somewhat splits the difference between the civilized, if still loud, studio band, and the utter savages (in a good way!) of James Gang on stage. Surely you’ve already pressed play, and heard Joe Walsh absolutely ROAR into this thing. If all you know of him is what you’ve heard on the radio or with the Eagles, you’re in for an eye-opening, and ear-opening delight.

I had once thought of this song as a pleasant bit of science fiction. The MAN in the song is the one who wants to talk about his feelings and where the relationship is going, while “you just turn your pretty head and walk away.” Riiiight. Because that’s how men are. Just won’t shut up about relationships.  ‾\_(ツ)_/‾

Well, maybe Joe really IS that way, because the song sounds pretty damn persuasive, and other than being a little condescending, it’s not especially mean, which automatically sets him above most men of the day.

(1971 was the first great year for a wide swath women artists in classic rock, but women as a lot were alas still not faring well at the hands of male writers. Still aren’t, either, which is a story for another day.)

I actually started rethinking this song when I read what Stevie Nicks had to say about Joe Walsh, who she describes as "the great, great love of my life.”

She said of their breakup: “It nearly killed me. We had to break up or we thought we’d die. We were just too excessive. We were busy superstars and we were doing way too much drugs. We were really, seriously drug addicts. We were a couple on the way to hell. 

But there was no closure. It took me years to get over it — if I ever did. It’s very sad but at least we survived. 

He was the one I would have married, and that I would probably have changed my life around for a little bit, anyway. Not a lot. 

[my note: the fact that she concedes that she’d have changed only a little bit, and only “probably”, suggests that she’s maybe not exaggerating the rest.] 

There was no other man for me. I look back at all the men in my life, and there was only one that I can honestly say I could truly have lived with every day for the rest of my life, because there was respect and we loved to do the same things. I was very content with him all the time. That’s only happened once in my life. 

This man, if he’d asked me to marry him, I would have. There was nothing more important than Joe Walsh — not my music, not my songs, not anything. He was the great, great love of my life.” (more here)

So on top of being better at relationships and rocking harder than you might have thought, he’s also a terrific technical guitarist, and a hilarious storyteller. I heard him tell a story on the radio in 1988 or so, involving him and George Harrison, that I’ve never seen documented, but I dropped everything I was doing to listen. 

I even remember exactly where I was -- in the back room of the bookstore I managed in Washington, DC, way past time to go home, but I didn’t want to miss the end of the story during the long walk to my car.

This is paraphrased, but it’s pretty damn close. I started telling this story to everyone within earshot right away, and you’ll get why. 

(btw, I don’t have a picture of Joe and George together, although they shared a stage a time or two. There are quite a few pictures of Joe and Ringo, though -- not only did Joe play in some editions of Ringo’s All-Star Band, they’re married to sisters! Marjorie and Barbara Bach, so yeah, they’re brothers in law.)

Anyway, Joe said that the one piece of advice he gives every guitarist trying to learn the instrument, “Learn to play every song The Beatles ever did, and sound exactly like they did. Doesn’t matter if you hate The Beatles or don’t want to sound anything like them when you’re done, but once you can play everything they played, exactly the way they sounded, you can do anything that it’s possible to do on a guitar.”

Well, there was one song that was vexing him, the very last one that he still couldn’t figure out -- “And Your Bird Can Sing” from Revolver. When he finally got it, he was beside himself. He called up George Harrison to make sure he was home (both fellas were living in Los Angeles at the time), said, “Stay there, I got something you gotta hear!” 

He packed up his amps and his guitar, drove over to George’s house, and started setting up. “What is it?” asked George. “Just wait,” replied Joe, and kept setting up. 

When Joe finally unleashed a note-perfect “And Your Bird Can Sing”, George fell out of his chair laughing. “How the hell did you do that?” “Well, it took me long enough to figure out,” Joe said, “so I was going to ask YOU how YOU did it.”

George said, “The way *I* did it was John and me playing in unison, and then double-tracked! I can’t figure out how you did it by yourself, even though I just saw you do it!” 

Well, Joe was left feeling pretty good about himself, managing to sound like the equivalent of four Beatles guitarists all by himself, if a little exasperated to have spent so much time figuring out something that he should have known better than to try -- but he did it anyway. THAT’s Joe Walsh for ya.

I hope you’ve already hit play AGAIN on that blistering take on 1971′s “Walk Away” up top, because Joe really was killing it that year. There’s more to him than you probably think, too, so if you’re into the heavy guitar thing, you should definitely do some exploring.

Led Zeppelin fans in particular, I’m looking at you. Joe and Jimmy were friends from Jimmy’s days in The Yardbirds, and it was Joe who said, man, you’ve gotta quit monkeying around with that Telecaster. When you’re ready to rock, switch to a Les Paul -- and indeed, Jimmy bought his first Les Paul (known as “#1″) from Joe in 1969, for $1200, which Joe says he flew out to hand-deliver to Jimmy. Says Jimmy, “Joe brought it for me when we played the Fillmore. He insisted I buy it, and he was right."

(btw, nifty pic from Joe’s Twitter feed of him and Jimmy hanging out after LZ’s February 12 show at The Garden in 1975!)

I wouldn’t want to say that Led Zeppelin’s approach to live jamming was necessarily influenced by James Gang, but I’m saying that they were similar and Joe got there first. LOL And seriously, if you dig live Zeppelin, you NEED to know more about live James Gang and early solo Joe.

(More details about #1 than anyone but a gearhead would want here, here, here, and here, but hey, maybe you’re a gearhead!)

To give you a head start for exploring more James Gang and early solo Joe, I’ll add one more video, from 1972, “Turn To Stone” featuring Fanny’s Jean Millington on bass absolutely slaying dragons on this monster. As Joe told Rolling Stone,

"Turn to Stone" was written about the Nixon administration and the Vietnam War and the protesting that was going on and all of that. It's a song about frustration. Also, I attended Kent State. I was at the shootings. That fueled it, too. In those days it felt like the government's priority was not the population. They had an agenda that was about something other than doing what was necessarily good for the country.

A few years later [in 1980], I decided to run for president myself. [Ed. Note: Walsh pledged to make "Life's Been Good" the new national anthem.] I thought it'd be a great idea and I had fun with it. And the reason I did it is because there was, and there continues to be, a very apathetic attitude toward voting. There's a total separation between the federal government and the people. So running for president was an attempt on my part to get people to care enough to go vote. But people just don't bother. And that's why it's not working.

TURN IT UP!

Oh what the heck, and one more from July 20 1971, from the French TV show Pop2, “The Bomber” (from 1970′s Rides Again) which includes a quick little nod to “Beck’s Bolero” along the way.  (Well, technically I suppose, Ravel’s “Bolero”, and indeed, Ravel’s estate made them remove the reference from initial pressings of the album!)

And another note for LZ fans: Joe does some crazy stuff with his bare hands at around 2:30-3:30 going into “Bolero” that Jimmy did with a violin bow. THAT’s Joe Walsh for ya.

TURN IT UP!

[scarlettsabetlondongirl]

Read the New Interview by Poet Scarlett Sabet and Led Zeppelin Founder Jimmy Page in Interview Magazine below or click on headline link.

JIMMY PAGE AND SCARLETT SABET ARE THE MUSIC-POETRY POWER COUPLE THE WORLD DIDN’T KNOW IT NEEDED

By Stephanie LaCava

Published October 10, 2019

Scarlett Sabet’s poetry is felt three-fold when she performs it. The written words aren’t the same when she says them; they are trance-like, told as if from memory. To call the London-based talent a poet and performer seems inadequate. She’s more so a musician, or, perhaps, a mystic. Her haunting readings have taken place at storied book shops such as San Francisco’s City Lights and Shakespeare & Co. in Paris, and she’s been invited to read at the likes of Wellesley College. She has published four collections of poetry on her own imprint: Rocking Undergound, The Lock and The Key, Zoreh, and Camille earlier this year. 

Today, she debuts her spoken word album Catalyst, produced by her partner, the legendary musician Jimmy Page. 

Interview sat down with the couple to talk about coming together for this project, the brilliance of the Velvet Underground, and paying to produce your own work.

STEPHANIE LACAVA: You two met in 2012, but it was two years later that your relationship started and you first talked about collaborating together. It would be five more years before today’s release of your project on all streaming platforms. Why this album now?

JIMMY PAGE: One project that I knew it shouldn’t be was poetry with music. So with the production of Scarlett’s work, I wanted to create an individual character for each poem, a sonic landscape to compliment it.

LACAVA: And with all due respect, that was also a cool move. It would have been kind of eye-rolling to do music accompaniment.

SCARLETT SABET: Yes. It feels exciting, but also like a natural progression, I think, because we live and work together every day. Literally every one of these poems, Jimmy was there when I wrote it, and he was the first person that heard it and he’s seen me perform so many times.

PAGE: It was six years ago that I first heard Scarlett read.

SABET: At World’s End Bookshop on the King’s Road in Chelsea.

PAGE: I thought, “This is really interesting. She’s really interesting. She’s definitely got something there.” And the people in attendance soaked up Scarlett’s reading.

LACAVA: Surely, you’ve read a lot of crowds.

PAGE: That’s a good point. The whole place hushed. Rocking Underground was the first poem I heard of Scarlett’s and when we started production, we began with it.

LACAVA: I think people assume the title of the poem is a music reference, but it’s actually quite literal…

SABET: I was on a train. My computer had broken. It was just one of those, ugh, kind of despairing Sunday nights. I just remember there was a guy with a backpack in my face, and I got out my notebook, and there was the rhythm of train.

LACAVA: Do you usually listen to music while you write?

SABET: It’s got to be something that’s trance-like. I can understand why you’d listen to jazz, for example.

LACAVA: That’s a place where both of your practices kind of overlap.

PAGE: Well, yeah. I did this interview with William Burroughs for Crawdaddy Magazine in 1975. We started to talk about trance music. I thought maybe he’d been to see Led Zeppelin on just one occasion. Actually, it was many times at Madison Square Garden. Anyway, we then started talking about this whole trance ethos, about the Master Musicians of Jajouka, this whole genre of tribal trance music from Morocco.

LACAVA: You learned about Jajouka from Brian Jones?

PAGE: Yes. To be fair, I know that Brion Gysin had introduced Brian Jones.

SABET: He was a painter and musician, Burroughs’s lover, and he came up with the cut-up technique with Burroughs.

LACAVA: Ah. What was your connection to Jones?

PAGE: I’d heard Elmore James songs (which Jones played a lot,) but I couldn’t quite work out how to play the music. People would say it was literally, from the neck of a bottle. I thought, ‘So, let’s see how this guy Jones does it.’ Sure enough, he gets up on stage and starts doing some Elmore James songs, and he has the equivalent of what everyone would know as a slide on his finger. I started talking to him when he came offstage, and I said, “Well you know, you’ve really got that down. What are you actually using?” You must understand that nobody that I knew played slide guitar at all. This is the first time I’d seen somebody do it—before Jeff [Beck] was doing it, before the Rolling Stones. So, he said, “Oh, have you got a car mechanic near you?” And I said, “I literally do have one not too far away.”‘ He said, “Go there and ask for a bush. It’s called a bush.” A thing used used in car maintenance. And he said, “You’ll find that it’ll just fit on your finger absolutely perfectly, and that’s what I use.” This guy was so generous.

LACAVA: Is there any young musician today who has really impressed you?

PAGE: Well, I was so impressed with the two guys that I saw with you.

LACAVA: Stefan Tcherepnin and Taketo Shimada, the New York-based Afuma.

SABET: They were so good. You said that was reminiscent of New York in the ’60s?

PAGE: Well, well, yeah. It was. It definitely had that sort of trance vibe.

LACAVA: Back to Scarlett’s start. You did your first reading at Shakespeare & Co. in Paris in January of 2015. Jimmy help set it up?

PAGE: So, when Sylvia (Whitman, owner and daughter of George Whitman) was giving me a tour after my own book signing, I saw the poetry section there, and I said, “Do you having readings here?” And she said, “Yes.” And I said, “Well, French as well as English?” “Oh, no. Only English.” And I thought, “I know a poet.”

LACAVA: It was Sylvia who introduced me to Scarlett years ago.

PAGE: After hosting Scarlett, Sylvia said to me, “It’s really powerful in print, but her renditions, they’re in another realm.”

LACAVA: So, Sylvia’s now the fourth person in this interview.

PAGE: That’s right. And something else funny happened when I was back at Shakespeare and Company. The man in charge of the rare book department said, “Oh, Sir, that Françoise Hardy track that you were on was absolutely amazing. That’s one of my favorite pieces of your guitar work.” I thought, “Well, wait a minute. I’m going to check, I’m going to track this down.” When I heard it, lo and behold, there’s this distortion box. It’s called a fuzz box. And I was the one who helped create this thing, and there it was on Francoise Hardy’s Je n’attends plus personne. I did it when I was a session musician. It was a session in Pye Studios at Marble Arch, downtown where all these Petula Clark hits were done. It wasn’t until you were in the studio that you’d see the artist come in. And you’d go, “Oh, I know who this is.” Or, “I don’t know who this is.” But when Francoise Hardy came in, I knew who she was. She had on one of those turtlenecks and that sort of tweedy skirt.

LACAVA: You also did some early sessions with Nico before she was part of the Velvet Underground.

PAGE: Nico came to London to record the Gordon Lightfoot song “I’m Not Sayin” with Andrew Oldham as a solo artist. So, there’s this huge orchestral session with Nico singing, and Andrew asked me to write a B-side with him for Nico, routine, play, and produce it on a separate session, which I did. It’s called The Last Mile. I was a staff producer on Immediate Records.

LACAVA: How old were you?

PAGE: 19 or 20. I was going to routine her at her apartment just near Baker Street in London with my acoustic 12-string guitar. Nico’s son with Alain Delon was there and he was holding up my guitar in the air, and I decided it was time to rescue it.

LACAVA: When did you see her again after that?

PAGE: Steve Paul’s Scene Club (Paul’s nightclub The Scene at 46th and Eighth Avenue) had been decorated by Andy Warhol. I don’t know what you’d call it here, but it’s this silver wrap—

LACAVA: Mylar.

PAGE: All the walls were covered with Mylar because Andy Warhol said that color was the color of speed. And playing down there was Nico and The Velvet Underground. I had an incredible connection with Lou Reed, and we spent lots of time talking.

SABET: Was that the first time you met him?

PAGE: Yeah, and I’d seen The Velvet Underground on more than one occasion. They were almost like a resident band. Andy Warhol was keen for them to be there. I can tell you exactly what it was like. When I heard the first album, it was just exactly what they were like. They were just like that. It was absolutely phenomenal.

LACAVA: See, that’s interesting in the context of his new project, as well. The difference between seeing someone in person versus the recording…

PAGE: The other thing about Steve Paul’s and The Velvet Underground was that it didn’t really have too many people coming to hear it, which I found extraordinary.

LACAVA: How many people were there?

PAGE: Well, hardly any people. Like, nine, a dozen people. It was so radical, such a radical band. You know, Maureen Tucker just playing the sort of snare drum. And the fact that there was the electric viola with John Cale. You just didn’t get this sort of line-up. It was really arts lab, as opposed to pop music, this wonderful glue, this synergy between them that was dark. It was very dark.

LACAVA: You mentioned Warhol. Do you remember seeing him there?

PAGE: No, he wasn’t actually there, but I met him with the Yardbirds. I don’t actually remember the hotel, but there was a reception for the Yardbirds. He came in, and he was with one other person. I was talking to him, and he said, ‘I just want to feel the band, feel the Yardbirds.’ “I want to feel their presence,” was the exact quote. We had a conversation and at the end of it he said, “You should come to the Factory, and do an audition.” But we were working, and I didn’t manage to do that. And then I saw him again in Detroit in ’67, when we were playing there. Andy Warhol was proceeding over this wedding, and The Velvet Underground were there. So, I got a chance to say hello again.

LACAVA: Something interesting that Scarlett told me once was that you steered her toward self-publishing. That legitimacy doesn’t come from a label—it comes from creating the thing you want to create.

PAGE: Yes.

LACAVA: You could have told her the opposite, based on your experience.

SABET: Jimmy was like, “Well, look. The first Led Zeppelin album, I paid for that.”

LACAVA: You produced and paid for it?

PAGE: Yes.

SABET: They had a record. He then took it to record companies. He took it to Atlantic and said, “This is what we’ve got. I’m not releasing singles. Take it or leave it.” He literally said the words, “I didn’t want to go around cap in hand saying, ‘Oh please. We’d like to write some songs.’ It’s better to do it.”

PAGE: What I’ve been producing over the last few years are Led Zeppelin rereleases and catalog items. It means a lot of listening to quarter-inch tapes, and it’s all in real time. I had to approach this project in such a way that the first album speaks for itself. The last and ninth album of the studio albums were Coda, so on every album in between, I had to make sure all of these companion discs were done and present the idea to the record company along with new artwork—that way to ensure the complete vision of the recordings were released.  

SABET: With the sound engineer, Drew, Jimmy would explain how he wanted to kind of layer some of my voices. And I practiced some on cassette, so it was like a guiding track, and then I’d listen back, and I understood the timing and what we were going to do for each one. If there was a sound or there was a better take, we’d talk about that.

PAGE: The first one that I wanted to try was Rocking Underground, which opens up the whole of this work. It was recorded on a cassette tape. It was so noisy, but urgent. I said, this is what we’re going to use, but then it needed some extra work to be done to augment the base layer—

LACAVA: Oh, that’s cool!

PAGE: So, it opens, and it’s really disturbing, all this ambient noise. And I know we pulled it off. Because there’s such a variety on it, and it will be such a surprise. It’s the sort of thing that you listen to for, say, Side One, from beginning to end. The whole sequencing is there for a reason.

LACAVA: We’re living in an age of the ubiquitous podcast. Everyone has those things in her ears.

“Catalyst, a spoken word album written and performed by Scarlett Sabet and produced by Jimmy Page, is released on a special 12-inch etched vinyl via JimmyPage.com.”-Jimmy Page

Photos: Interview Magazine

[tybalt-you-saucy-boi]

Hello! I was curious to know what some of your favorite Mindcrack moments are in all of their years of existing?

Bro. You are in for a motherfucking LIST.

Off the bat, every single Team Canada Prank. I’ve practically memorized the Sky Shrooms and King of the Ladder episodes. That moment when Guude realized Etho was part of the prank and said “We? Who’s we?” and Etho stuttered and fell backwards off the mushrooms to his death was the first moment in my life that I truly felt alive. #TheOfficeIsAGoodShow #RealMenUseTheirRingFinger

Von Swaying Guude’s house changed my whole outlook on Minecraft. How could someone make something so darn ugly and yet so beautiful? It’s the epitome of doing something for the sole purpose of shit starting creating and having fun rather than aiming for perfect and never finishing. Zisteau is a great addition to any video 10/10 educational content

Just about every moment in Guude/Nebris/Pakratt/Arkas’ TerraFirmaCraft Reloaded series. Had to pause videos multiple times to write down quotes and even then I passed up some good ones! I fully intend on rewatching the series from each perspective. Arkas getting slain by bear, Guude and Arkas secretly growing mushrooms and getting high, Pakratt confusing dolomite and diorite, literally everything Arkas does, THE COWS, that last episode of absolute chaos wtf Pakratt

UHC #ForTheKidsSeven with Single Malt scotch’s skyblock base and rampant cheating from every team except Nebris’. I fucking LOVED that near-kill with the anvil, and all the chaos as the border shrank. Four players stuck in a 1x1 column! The arrow volley between SMS and SkyblockJr. Can this happen every UHC?

Speaking of UHC, Etho and BdoubleO’s epic fight in season 11! He was absolutely on the ball with those potions, I was sure he’d die before he could use them all. And Etho’s fight with Guude right before that was hilarious! Guude high as fuck on percocets and Etho like completely confused at what Guude was doing. The original UHC skybase by Zisteau #I’mALavaExpert and Anderz reaction to the skybase, and then to Guude’s dogs

The whole portal thing in season 3 with Pause, Kurt, and Beef too! That has remained one of my favourite UHC moments since I saw it, there is nothing more classic. Every single season I hope someone will make a portal for no reason and end up in someone else’s base with them. #TheWolfTheWolfAmazing!

Zisteau’s E-Pranker Montage. I legitimately cry every time I watch it, particularly during 0.5 (the fourth prank) when he rebuilds Bdubs’ first house from his Building With BdoubleO series. Bdubs’ moment of realization hits me like a train even though I know it’s coming. Like, if someone built my first Minecraft base to prank me I think I would die on impact, but like in a good way.

And back to UHC! Season 14 episode 5. HOOOOOOLY FUCK! 2spooky4me should have totally been a UHC team! Remember when Zisteau played UHC? It just isn’t UHC without him to be honest. And besides the #BadYouTubers and #ImALavaExpert moments from Super Hostile and Ninja Turtles, Parkas had a great season as well! Shit, everyone was awesome! Parkas listening in on BTC finding a silverfish, Doc listening in on Ole Yeller right before Zisteau-ing himself and swearing, Baj hiding nether wart, every single drunken drink Genny did, Parkas towers “we should smelt some stone to make bricks”, snnnnowballs! :D, HEY JSANO! WHY YOU RUNNING JSANO?, “ooooh, we’re right behind you haha” “BTC, they’re actually here.” Pakratt was slain by generikb, Avidya’s spooky voice echoing around Seth and Anderz “You wouldn’t hurt an old teammate, would you?” “I dunno. It’s been awhile.” Just. God this was a good season.

Season 19 with Vechs and BTC! You’ve heard all the famous quotes, “how did I get stuck with you of all people” “Vechs, Vechs. I don’t hate you anymore” “He’s not dying. He’s just mad right now.” “Did it come from your hand, knocking a teammate off the ledge?” “THAT WAS A MOD!” etc etc. I also like MC’s half heart midnight desert dash, although it took a good 10 years of my life from the stress. Oblivious Pakratt running away from his teammates as they yell after him and then wondering why he hasn’t found anyone yet. Seth’s reaction to MC’s diamonds. Coe’s post commentary, again, you know the quotes: “Left. Chicken. Right. Chicken.” “This bucket has wheels!” “Are you gonna put that dirt in a chest?!” etc. Kurt finding Beef “Sharpness Five diamond sword!” and PiMP turning around. F1 and PiMP in general. SwedishZen and Millbee with the melons.

Obligatory mentions: “NOOO YOUR DOGS KILLING ME!!!!”, 2Germans1Hole, Zisteau crafting a clock and finding every excuse to use it during the game so that those 4 gold didn’t go to waste, Rob’s jukebox battles, Anderz fighting spiders when a creeper wanders into his hole, Bdubs’ “real” season 9 ending, Nebris going God-mode “HIT ME ALL YOU LIKE”, Nebris and Pause double kill, Nebris and Pyro double kill with Bdubs watching and cleaning up at half a heart and then Etho cleaning up again and finding the potions B left and Bdubs interrupting his video to do facecam to explain that he’s a nice guy who shares and leaves gifts for others (basically whenever Bdubs does facecam in UHC. Let’s face it, when Bdubs whips out the cam you know you’re in for a good show), Team Uppercats season 10. All of it.

Trouble in Terrorist Town when Pyro and Coe pull a long con on Pause and Guude in like episode 9 during the last round. I had to pause the video to take it all in, I was just in awe. That series is one of my favourites! I always watch from Pause.

In original DvZ when BTC got warned for breaking a cake. Also Pause’s helmet!

Team Canada CTM uhhh forgot which series, but Pause and Beef getting stuck in a hole, Etho dying, placing TNT over their heads, and singing “Pause and Beef, best of friends” while Beef panics.

Etho calling Pause fat as a joke and Pause taking it serious and then Etho going “wait, are you actually fat?’ lmao.

Pause yelling about vacations on episode 37 of the podcast with BdoubleO “STOP TELLING PEOPLE I’M GOING ON VACATION IT’S NOT A VACATION!!!!!!!” and every time he’s yelled about vacations or muted his mic.

Baj reading a question and mid sentence switching to talking about the curry he had last night, and then there’s a pause and the rest of Nancy Drew fucking loses it.

On the podcast, Kurt’s “Wake me up, boys!” That whole episode was a blast!

The whole “sitting or standing?” debate and the guests’ reactions to it.

Doc accidentally killing Notch on the Mindcrack server, and Dinnerbone confused about him not dropping an apple.

Doc’s zombie death loop from season 4 with Anderz saving the day and then promptly dying.

B-Team mafia in survival of the fittest, Etho killing Genny, and B and Etho teaming up afterwards. Also B and Pungence talking excitedly at the end was adorable, you can really tell they’re brothers lol. And Etho drinking out of the outhouse! Bdubs’ comment on that video killed me lol. And Etho forgetting his push-to-talk and failing to team up with Doc.

The whole got-dang B-Team trial.

End of season 3 tour “On a scale from Baj to Anderz” “Arkas, say something about your build.” Arkas: “Hello.”

The original Death Games, when Etho reveals his secret to Nebris particularly, and all the trash talking. Also Millbee, MC, and Nebris coming to kill him and Kurt logging on in the middle of it.

Prop hunt, and all the wiener and erect jokes. “Am I erect?” “I just saw a can spying on me while I was trying to put my wiener in the toilet!”

Pause and Rob getting girlfriends in Orespawn, and Rob naming his after Pause, and Pause murdering his.

Andrea talking about waking up with spiders in her mouth in an old Triple Eh Mondays episode.

Nebris “sensually” feeding Beef a banana (and practically begging to do it to) on the Mindcrack marathon, and Beef completely ruining the mood lol

Zisteau accidentally launching CaptainSparklez back into a lava tree column and “Dude, it’s okay. You can just kill me” after Jordan’s hit him about 40 times.

#ForTheHorse

MC accidentally killing his one and only teammate JSano during UHC season 22

Sevadus and Seth playing blindfolded lego with Chad’s underwear on Sev’s head, lots of swearing, bugs in the lego, “Are you sure it’s the grey lego?”, “I don’t think I like kids anymore” etc

All the Pyro and Baj burns on Quiplash, ie “What’s something that absolutely does not make you think of a penis in any way?” “Baj”

Coe and Pak playing that stupid horse/giraffe volley ball game with the stretchy legs and neck, and Coe doing the silly accent

Bdubs calling Nebris a psychopath in Nebs’ first FTB episode because he jumped a dangerous ledge for 2 (TWO) pieces of glowstone dust

Nebs coming outta nowhere and jumping in Etho’s car when he was about to test his race track

The first few episode of CrackPack and the battle between Etho and BTC, and Beef and Nebris

The first building game with potatoes on sticks, the second accidentally dirty and racist building game with bloody toilet capsules, the third actually dirty building game with a viking hat with a penis inside

God, I could go on forever, but I’ve already spent over an hour and a half on this.

[stephenmalkmusofficial]

Top 10 Albums of 2018

It’s that time of year again! Before I go dance the night away and ring in the new year with Japanese Breakfast, let’s count down my top 10 albums of 2018!

Honorable Mentions: Camp Cope - How to Socialise & Make Friends Vundabar - Smell Smoke Swearin’ - Fall Into the Sun Bad Moves - Tell No One Deafheaven - Ordinary Corrupt Human Love Alien Boy - Sleeping Lessons Most of these records I did enjoy quite a bit, I just didn’t listen to them enough for them to make the cut.

10. Hop Along - Bark Your Head Off, Dog

Hop Along has long been one of those bands I really enjoy, but don’t exactly click all the way, it’s a work-in-progress. Some of their songs that have become my favorites require multiple listens, their new record was no different. It actually took me til this month when I revisited it for the whole work to really click, How Simple is definitely one of my favorite songs of the year, but the rest of the album is extremely inventive, fun and immersive, and it definitely rewards multiple listens.

9. Sidney Gish - No Dogs Allowed

I discovered Sidney’s music by way of the fact she was opening for Mitski on a string of shows before Mitski’s new record came out. Sidney’s songs are so fun, clever and incredibly catchy. Her lyricism and completely do-it-yourself ethos is what makes this record so much fun to come back to, as well as watching her live create the songs before my very eyes with her loop pedal. Really excited to see what she does next year!

8. Joyce Manor - Million Dollars to Kill Me

People love to gripe about how Joyce Manor isn’t a punk band anymore, but honestly, I’m perfectly fine with that, since their last record, Cody, has crept up to be one of my favorites by them. Also, they kinda never really were a punk band. Barry Johnson’s songwriting has always seemed to favor hooks and sweet melodies over anything else, and it’s super apparent here. When the band first released the title track, it seemed incredibly apparent that Barry’s quest for blending hard punkish guitars with sweet Morrissey-esque melody and singing had finally blended into one, making this album one of the most fun records of the year.

7. Mitski - Be the Cowboy

If you know me at all, you know my incredible love for Mitski. The way she balances raw emotion in her lyrics blended with her undeniable knack for great pop music really comes to a head in this new record. With 14 tracks, Mitski tries her hand at different styles and genres, but always feeling comfortable and confident in these new digs. The style hopping made this record a bit hard to approach at first, but digging into songs like “Why Didn’t You Stop Me?” and “Washing Machine Heart” makes me remember Mitski’s daring is why I love her art so much in the first place.

6. Long Neck - Will This Do?

I might be biased because I made these guys pancakes, but Long Neck are one of, if not the best, and hardest-working, bands in America. This record grew on me slowly, but soon enough each track hit harder and harder in its own way. Lily is a fantastic lyricist, and her voice is transcendent. Getting to meet the band and working on booking them to play at my school was a dream come true, and help this record spring to life more for me. I can’t sing this record’s praises enough, just go listen to it!!

5. Lucy Dacus - Historian

After a little hesitation, I finally listened to “Night Shift”, the song which ended up being the first song on this record, Lucy Dacus’ second. I can still remember when the distorted electric guitars hit and Dacus croons over this relationship falling apart around her. Dacus continues the record addressing concerns over relationships with lovers, friends, and family, with an amazing sense of poise and grace. Her songs tell a story, and she allows them to breathe and unfold in their own unique way, and each re-listen is incredibly rewarding.

4. Jeff Rosenstock - POST-

I remember waking up groggy and somewhat hungover New Year’s Day to discover that Jeff Rosenstock had surprised-released a new album, as well as sign to indie label Polyvinyl, I thought I was hallucinating, or the world was pulling a trick on me. Jeff has become one of my favorite artists for the way his lyrics approach and address the struggles of everyday life in such unique ways. POST- gets right to the heart of our post-election world, that feeling of being exhausted, fatigued, of wanting to give up, but knowing you should keep fighting. A lot of people see this as an alright follow-up to his breakthrough record, WORRY., but POST- is an album that speaks directly to the moment at hand, a point I think that was helped delivered by its surprise release.

3. Retirement Party - Somewhat Literate

This record is definitely one of the most, if not the most, fun record I heard this year. Its gigantic riffs and killer production made this whole album so much fun to keep coming back to. The whole band sounds tight and like they’re having a great time playing as much as you are listening. Sometimes all you really need is to have a little fun, and Retirement Party definitely deliver.

2. Antarctigo Vespucci - Love in the Time of E-Mail

I love pop music, I also love music that makes me feel something. This record does both at the same time, and then some. Chris Farren and Jeff Rosenstock’s collaborative project is back in full-force, and the blending of perfect pop songs with Jeff’s punk and DIY edge make this album literally addicting. It’s so easy to pop this album on and just listen to the whole thing, and at least 3 songs will be stuck in your head by the end of the day. This album talks about love and the insecurities that arise even when in a relationship, something that’s an undeniable fact of life, and it’s handled so well here. 

1. Car Seat Headrest - Twin Fantasy

Wow, what a surprise, right? Anyways, if you’ve ever listened to the original Twin Fantasy, released in 2011, the urgency in Will Toledo’s songwriting and vocal delivery is apparent, these are stories he needs to tell right now. With this re-recording, with some slight alterations, Will tells this story again, but with the knowledge and wisdom he’s gained in the 7 years since the original’s release. With the power of hindsight, Will is able to craft a beautifully remastered work that only enhances the listener’s experience. The songs on this record have become so important to me in terms of helping discover and understand my identity, and hearing these re-vamped versions of these songs sounds like everything coming full circle. I’m so excited for brand new music from the band, but I’m glad Will, Andrew, Seth and Ethan took the time to breathe new life into this essential piece of art. Thanks for reading, here’s to a better 2019.

[spacetimewraithwrites-archive]

Word for Warren's Birthday thing: Blindness

Blindness

Rain lashed against the windshield and Warren’s finger impatiently tapped the trigger guard of his weapon as he aimed at the situation happening in front of his parked sedan. He squinted, nostrils flared, laser focus not once veering from the glint of the headlights reflecting off of the wild eyes of the man holding a rusty knife to his partner’s throat. Agent Great didn’t move a muscle, his own gaze glued to the car, catching Warren’s eye between aggressive passes of the windshield wipers.

“I’m not gonna ask you again after this, Mr. Dominic,” Warren shouted loud enough to be heard through the open doors and over the downpour. His own voice rang in his ears. “…Put the knife down, let go of Agent Great, and we can handle this like rational adults.”

“Like hell!” Dominic tightened his grip on the crook of his captive’s neck. “You think you can take me down through a windshield?!”

“Freddy,” Warren called. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Freddy said, blinking away the water pouring down his face. He appeared to be in deep thought. “Trying to remember…how to…right, I’ve got it.”

In a flurry of movement, he disarmed the unstable man and pounded his head into the hood of the car, knocking him out. Dominic slid onto the muddy ground and Warren exhaled, resting his tired arms on the dashboard.

“This is why I’m getting promoted and you’re not!” Freddy said, whipping his phone out of his pocket and rubbing his neck.

Warren bit his tongue to keep from retaliating and instead watched Freddy’s fingers search for the small knick on his skin when he dialed headquarters. When he found it, it began to bleed—not a lot, but enough to get immediately washed away onto the collar of his white shirt. He loosened the soaked tie and Warren watched that, too.

“Yeah, we’re gonna need a van,” Freddy said into his phone. “Maybe some diapers for Cougar.”

Warren flipped him off despite the good-natured grin aimed his direction.

While ETHOS backup loaded Dominic, handcuffed, into a van and out of harm’s way, Freddy and Warren watched from the dry interior of their standard sedan in silence. Freddy kept clenching and unclenching his fist as he disappeared into his own mind, unaware of the cavalry feet away from him in the parking lot.

“Wanna talk about it?” Warren asked.

“Not really,” Freddy said. It hadn’t been enough time for his hair or clothes to dry off, but he’d aimed the air vents directly at him to hurry it along. “Nothing to talk about. Same shit, different day.”

“Well, yeah, but…I mean, you could’ve died.”

Freddy looked over at him and narrowed his eyes. “This your first day or something?”

“I’m just trying to connect, man.”

“Connecting isn’t really my thing.” Freddy fiddled with his left ring finger and Warren caught sight of the strip of lighter skin around the digit that indicated a ring had once been there. “Kinda had to learn that the hard way.”

Warren nodded but sighed. “Fine. I get it.”

“And I mean…I just had to save my own ass because my supposed partner froze up and couldn’t shoot a gun for some reason.”

“I didn’t freeze up, asswipe. Do you know how thick these windshields are?”

“Better watch how you talk to me, I’m gonna be second-tier soon.”

“You’ve been saying that for a month now and I’m starting to worry that you’re delusional again….”

Freddy emitted a laugh—quiet, concentrated, almost fake but not quite. “Yeah, I’m off my shits again I guess.”

Warren looked at him, the way his brow had knotted and his shaky fingers couldn’t stop gliding over the superficial cut on his throat. He wasn’t that close to Freddy personally, but it didn’t even take a body language expert to recognize that the ordeal shook him to the core, no matter how much he tried to roll it off his back.

“Don’t let this fester,” Warren said, dropping his gaze to his own lap.

The sound of the van driving away broke the silence that followed, and Freddy turned off the car engine, choking the thnk-thnk of the wipers and allowing the windshield to be obscured by the steady, straight rainfall. The darkness inside the vehicle made Warren’s chest tight, but he ignored it.

“I’m gonna be in denial about this for the rest of my life,” Freddy said.

“Don’t,” Warren said immediately. “Believe me, if you sit on trauma like this—”

“There’s that word again, ’trauma,’” Freddy interrupted. “I’m over it. People don’t know what trauma truly is, they just throw it around when someone gives them the wrong coffee order or their boss dared to ask them to work overtime. Do you know what trauma really is, Cougar? Do you know what that looks like?”

Warren pursed his lips, the irony of the question drawing attention to how itchy he felt being in an enclosed space with water pouring over the windows. “Mm…I get the feeling what I do or don’t know doesn’t matter here….”

Freddy didn’t elaborate any further, much to Warren’s relief. Instead, he started the car and drove them out of the lot.

Later, when Warren was alone in his apartment, he took out a bottle of bourbon and parked himself on one of his couches, scrolling through a string of texts he and Esther had been in the midst of exchanging about moving in together. He hovered over her last text to him, asking if he had been looking for places or if it would be better to keep one of theirs, and he read it for what had to have been the six hundredth time.

He took a swig straight from the bottle and psyched himself up with a loud growl and a couple of vigorous head shakes. Took a deep breath. Hesitated with his thumbs over the keys.

He typed out his response and sent it without thinking about it.

     Maybe we should table this for another time.

When he closed his eyes, the images of Freddy’s cut and his fidgeting fingers flooded his brain. His stomach surged downward and his brow prickled with perspiration.

He opened a new text message, stared at the profile picture of the woman he’d met several times at Pepper Fox’s bar. Typed something out and hit send without thinking about that, too.

     Hey, Landon, this is Warren. Sorry I didn’t have the guts to reach out…haven’t seen you in a few days, is everything okay?

He took another swig of the bourbon and screwed the cap back on, shoving it into the cupboard again and abandoning it and his phone to take a shower and go to sleep.

And he supposed it was some sort of payback that Landon never responded to him.

[ayearofpike]

The Hollow Skull

Pocket Books, 1998 210 pages, 19 chapters + epilogue ISBN 0-671-55059-4 LOC: CPB Box no. 1122 vol. 17 OCLC: 38276295 Released February 1, 1998 (per B&N)

Cass Strobe wants to get the hell out of her nowhere desert town. But for one last laugh, she and her friends go to the bottom of an abandoned uranium mine, where one of them falls in a puddle and suddenly starts acting weird. Creepy. Non-human. But Cass is the only one who can see it, except her best friend, this guy’s girlfriend, who has mysteriously gone missing. It’s not long before the whole town is acting creepy and non-human, and Cass has to decide between stopping whatever they’re up to or just saving herself.

TL;DR: It’s Monster.

Seriously. Did you read the summary and think, “huh, he’s already talked about this one?” I did, sort of. The Hollow Skull is Monster with an intergalactic AI replacing the living, person-eating planet. Also, with way more of a downer ending. But we’ll get there, and I really feel like it’ll be sooner than normal because there just isn’t much meat to this story. A lot of filler, yeah, making it the longest one he’s written in a while, but it’s just ... not more than what we’ve already seen, and not as good as when he did it before.

Pike is notorious for reusing his ideas and concepts throughout his stories. We’ve got the reborn goddess come to make something good for the world. We’ve got the mashup of Eastern religions. We’ve got the global timeline as a single repeatable object that those who have stepped beyond can revisit at any point. Fourth dimensional beings of pure light, purple spaceships, powerful blood, genetic memories — it’s all made more than one appearance, and it’s part of why these books at the end don’t (and maybe can’t) stand alone as we’re expected to know the author’s ethos and his patterns to understand.

The Hollow Skull is different. Not only does it exclude the patterns and break from Pike’s world-building that’s been going on since literally Remember Me, but it does so by reusing wholesale a story he’s pretty much already written. The setting is different, but the beats are more or less the same.

We start in the hick desert town of Madison, Nevada, where Cass is stuck. She has graduated high school and wants to get out, but she doesn’t have the money, and her little sister is still there, and her best friend has no intention of ever leaving, and her boyfriend is hemming and hawing about whether he would go with her. Basically Cass is making excuses to not leave, which I think is a lot of why people stay in nowhere towns: change is hard and it’s easier to stick with what you know.

The catalyst might be when her friends convince her to go down the mine, for one last adventure before she leaves. Her friend’s boyfriend has heard tell that the government scientists who were checking it out left the elevators working, and as they’ve all been in this dirty mining town for their whole lives without ever seeing the mine, they decide it’s high time. So they ride all the way down, into a cave that gets inexplicably colder (unless you understand how caves work), to the main work tunnel, which is flooded by some kind of oil not far in.

The best friend is pretty freaked out by this, and as she’s turning to run back to the elevator, she accidentally knocks her boyfriend into the goo. Cass’s boyfriend helps him out, and they ride up and out and go their separate ways. At Cass’s house, though, her drunken father has been hitting her sister, so she goes in and beats the shit out of him and takes all the cash in the house so that she can get started somewhere else with a ten-year-old tagging along. Like, clearly this man has been an abusive alcoholic for longer than one night, so I feel safe saying that something about the experience in the cave pushed Cass over the edge.

They stay with her boyfriend that night, and in the morning her best friend arrives and says her boyfriend is acting weird. They’d gone swimming at the nearby lake (which ... no, this is forsaken Nevada desert), where he realized that he could dive deeper and stay down longer than before. When he tried to pull his girl down with him, though, she panicked and raged and drove off and left him at the lake. They don’t get too far into checking on him, though, before they see him being toted out of a neighbor’s house, covered in blood.

What Cass didn’t see was what happened to BFBF after her friend left him. He decided to pass the time by eating ground glass mixed with sand. This obviously caused him to get all torn up inside, and now he’s being rushed to the hospital. Which goes way too fast, considering this nowheresville is supposed to be almost an hour from the nearest doctor. Like, why the fuck would they drive him BACK into town and THEN call an ambulance? I guess it’s 1998 and cell phones still aren’t that popular, and even if they were coverage in non-populous areas in the western states is still pretty crappy twenty years later. Also, we already know that the ground glass thing is a myth, having seen it in a previous Pike book.

Anyway, BFBF dies on the table and about a minute later starts breathing again. Cass leaves him to the doctors and bumps into her boyfriend, ALSO covered in blood. He says he was there before she was and saw BFBF, which is why, but ... like, Cass didn’t see him come in and she’d been with BFBF the whole time. Oh well! She doesn’t spend too much time thinking about this. In fact, she doesn’t think about it at ALL until much later in the book — here we the readers are led to believe that SHE makes his clothes bloody, which is bullshit as far as proper clue-building goes. But Cass knows the mine is the problem; she just doesn’t understand how or why. Meanwhile, her boyfriend is concerned about her little sister, who he says has been going out for walks and isn’t hungry. Not like her, so one more thing for Cass to be freaked about.

This too: BFBF lets himself out of the hospital and drives a fucking hour back in a borrowed car to sneak his girlfriend out of the house. They drive back to the mine, and he forces her down to the bottom, where his speech becomes more and more robotic as he talks about the need for change and taking the next step. She doesn’t like this at all, so first chance she gets she whales him in the head with a crowbar and takes off. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have a key to the car he borrowed, so she starts walking back to town. Of course he gets out and runs her down in the desert, at which point the robot inside evidently decides that this organic unit is not necessary to further the aims of the next step and buries her alive on the spot.

So Cass is trying to get someone investigating all the issues. The sheriff seems concerned and says he’ll talk to BFBF, the doctors want to hold him because of inconsistent and unusual tests, and her friends’ parents are ... supremely unconcerned that she hasn’t been home. Meanwhile, Cass and her boyfriend go back to check out the mine, to what end I have no idea, only to see BFBF leading a coterie (including the sheriff) down to the goo. And when they get home, there’s way more activity going on in town than there should be in the middle of the night, including (boyfriend says) Cass’s little sister.

And now the tone has totally changed. People seem to think BFBF has made a miraculous recovery that we shouldn’t question too much, and also there’s going to be a town meeting at the high school gym that is going to be AMAZING but nobody will be clear on what’s to be discussed. What the fuck? Cass knows they need to do something here. She has a government scientist’s phone number, and calls him, and he says that yes, there is a concern about the mine and that they should sit tight and not go back. But Cass is like fuck that, I’m out of here.

But first she has to go find her sister, who has gone back to her dad’s house. Cass knows she’s going to have to put up a fight, and she ends up shooting the dude, upon which people come swarming out of nowhere and knock her out. She wakes up in the basement of the school, tied up next to her boyfriend, who thinks he can cut himself loose on an equipment hook given enough time. They have to stall for it, because now BFBF has come in with Cass’s sister hostage, wanting to know who they’ve talked to. She stalls him just long enough for her boyfriend to get loose and knock him down, then he cuts their ropes and they make for the door. When BFBF grabs Cass with a new robotic claw, she seizes the nearest heavy object and bashes his fucking head until it cracks open and his brains spill out.

Only his brains are fiberoptic cables, swimming in more of the black goo.

(Yeah, I’m leaving out some context. I’ll come back to it.)

So the Cass party knows they need to bail, only the road is blockaded. They have just enough gas to get to the propane plant and steal a truck and a worker’s car, though the boyfriend is freaked out because apparently the little sister literally tore out a guard’s throat while he wasn’t looking. More clues? Cass isn’t hearing it. They ram the barricade with the gas truck, rigged from a distance, and drive over the hills on a dirt road to get out and on the way to Vegas.

Only they have Cass’s sister to worry about. Why has she been wandering? Why is she lying to Cass about it? How did she kill that man? Is she too a robot? The boyfriend suggests a test: he’ll poke her quick with a needle, and a ways down the road Cass can check her undershirt to see if it’s black or red. If it’s black, she can say she needs to pee and walk away from the car and he’ll take care of what has to be done.

And ... yeah. Cass’s heart is broken, so she doesn’t flinch when her boyfriend stops to pick up a stranded woman ten minutes from the Vegas strip. (And, goddammit, even in 1998 this was the CITY.) She suggests a hotel and says that if they decide to continue on to let her know, because they’re all aiming for LA. Cass and her boyfriend go up to the room, which is when she finally starts questioning everything he’d been saying to her. Because none of it lines up, either with what’s been going on in town or with what she knew of her sister. Cass decides it’s time to do a little poke test on dear old boyfriend, only with him held at gunpoint.

Turns out he’s been a robot as long as BFBF was. The goo infected him when he helped the dude out of the puddle, and the robot hive mind or whatever identified Cass as the strongest point of resistance and decided he should stay in observation mode to gaslight her. So no, her sister wasn’t a robot. Neither was her dad. And when Cass shoots this monster in the back of the skull and spills his fiberoptic brains all over the bed, neither is he anymore.

She’s heading for the car when the stranded lady sees her and asks if she can still ride along. Whatever, Cass figures — her whole world is fucked and gone; what’s a passenger on the ride? They don’t get too far from Vegas before there’s a monstrous and brilliant flash from the north. The car’s electronics getting knocked out creates suspicion, and the mushroom cloud they see from a nearby hill confirms it: the feds nuked Madison. But at least Cass got out.

Or she thinks so, until the lady looks at her and reads her mind and says no.

Here’s what I left out. There’s two chapters earlier in the book about a brilliant researcher named Sio, who is working with lab mice and seeing how enhanced microchips might boost their intelligence and abilities. She has a professor boyfriend, who she catches with a student one night. The anger and bitterness this creates, combined with the success of her experiment, makes her decide to use the solution on herself, not caring whether it works on humans or not. But it does, and her new hyperintelligence gives her powers beyond her own head, not merely enough to exact revenge on the cheaters but also to get the entire world to do her will. It turns out that this happened on a different planet somewhere out there some unimaginable time ago, and all of humanity has been seeded on Earth (as it has on arable planets throughout the universe) in order to expand this monstrous mind and create more power for the researcher. Who, it turns out, has manifested on Earth in this stranded woman thanks to the efforts of the Madison weirdos.

And that’s it! Well, there’s an epilogue that implies that Cass has been turned and is going to kill the government scientist, who moonlights as a professor at UCLA and doesn’t mind cheating on his wife with hot students, thus bringing the researcher-robot-hive-mind story full circle. 

Did I like The Hollow Skull? I mean, I probably would have if I read it in seclusion, not so soon after its obvious inspiration and predecessor. But even in 1998, I feel like I recognized the genesis and the patterns of this story, and might have felt like Pike was running out of ideas and repeating himself. There are just too many holes and questions here, and the insertion of the researcher isn’t done in a consistent or fitting way. It either feels like “unrelated and unnecessary” or “giving away too much up front,” depending on how deep you read and what you understand. So I have to say no, I didn’t really like it this time either. But that should be obvious considering how long it took me to write this post: much like Pike, I too have fallen into my patterns.

[braindamageforbeginners]

A New Doctor

Cycle 9, Day 10

So, I now have at least a half-dozen physicians on my case. If you believe the BMJ stat that “medical misadvenure” (which is a broad category that includes, but is not limited to, doctor error, nursing error, pharmacy screw-ups, misdiagnosis, accidental overdose/drug interactions, opportunistic infections - the list goes on) is the third-leading cause of death in America (according to the same study, heart disease is #1 and cancer is #2). So, for those for those of you setting odds on my life expectancy (and, frankly, I’d be disappointed if you didn’t), it’s been an odd, extended game of “Clue,” except I’m Mr. Body, to see if disease, side-effects, or my possibly-insane physicians will get to me first. I hate to say it, but I think I’ve finally figured the odds-on favorite in this one: my GP.

This isn’t a plea for help, or even a serious medical development on my part, it’s a warning for you, the readership, as insurance enrollment comes around. First of all, if you can’t pay, hospitals or physicians can throw you out on the street (this is something able-bodied people are so disbelieving of that took a poor black woman freezing to death on-camera in Baltimore). They are only required to treat you if you in an emergency situation, thanks to some federal laws called “EMTALA.”If you have a disease that drives you to the emergency room, the prognosis gets worse. People tend believe that just because it’s the healthcare industry, the health insurance industry isn’t a corrosive force that has a vested interest in denying care and killing you. Which is odd to me; you don’t get this anywhere else (or I haven’t experienced this sort of self-delusional attitude); you don’t see people defending McDonald’s or Nabisco or RJ Reynolds or Exxon as having their best interests at heart (and, to my friends who think they’re bullet-proof because of their health insurance, read the fine print, very, very carefully; you don’t want to get a nasty shock as you’re being rolled into the OR). So, thanks to my parent’s generosity/desire not to see me die, I rolled in last year with a very expensive PPO (there are a lot of acronyms to keep track of, but PPOs allow the patient to see anyone in a preferred provider network, which tend to be large and give the patient lots of choices, so you can directly get a referral to a neurologist if you hit your head). Unfortunately, because I have pre-existing conditions (and to my bullet-proof friends, read through the list of pre-existing conditions that’ll disqualify you, your jaw will drop)(also, it’s telling that Congressmen and Senators have the option to buy into a separate, federal employee health insurance option that’s not available to us serfs)(it’s also telling that the ACA required Congresscritters, for the first time ever, to tough it out and find health insurance like their constituents)(which is why I assume all the GOP higher-ups had melt-downs over the ACA - a slight removal of privilege to help sick constituents isn’t a part of Congressional ethos, let alone job description), my premiums went from “expensive” to “leasing a sports car” within a few months. I’m extraordinarily grateful to them for providing that financial backing, because it allowed me to continue getting treatment during the crucial 6-10 week GBM post-diagnosis period that might turn this from “Guaranteed doom” to “far too close for comfort.” So, this did give me some time to do my homework (in writing about this, I’m realizing I really should consider applying to law school, because I’ll know more about medical and insurance law and ethics than some lawyers before this is up)(Hell, I probably know more than some of them right now). Anyway, I found that all the specialists I see for cancer, do take medicaid (even the specialized pharmacy I use at the cancer center). Which is good for me, especially since being on disability in California is an automatic qualification for Medicaid. Now for the bad news; although all the specialists there take medicaid, the GPs don’t. AND the specialists only take medicaid if it’s done through an HMO carrier that the state sub-contracts with.

Great Kraken’s Balls.

There are a number of documentaries and documents (including an “Adam Ruins Everything” segment) on why HMO’s are unnecessary and lethally incompetent (like many other aspects of a for-profit medical system), but here’s the most basic deal: They act as a gate-keeper for the entire medical-industrial system. You can get your care at any of a dozen pre-approved hospitals, and nowhere else. Now, if an HMO or their doctors can’t treat you (or refuse to treat you - which is still the case for a lot of GBM patients), they are required to send you to a specialist who can. The economic incentive is to give less care, and keep all the patients in the system for as long as possible.

I suspect that delaying tactic is why heart disease and cancer are considered so deadly - you can’t sit long on either of those.

So, based on the financial folks at the cancer center, I picked one, and promptly forgot about it; because I’m already in the system there (the receptionists and pharmacy staff recognize me on sight)(which is comforting, until you realize it’s a cancer center, and then the panic briefly cuts in until you remember you’ve gone eight months without regowth or metastastis). I only remembered it when I got a call from the medicaid HMO telling me I should schedule an appointment with one of their physicians. This isn’t a big deal, I just need them to sign-off on any further black magic-based treatments with the Warlocks or Radiation Oncologist.

Now, before I go further, let’s talk about the people who go into medicine. Like anything in healthcare, we tend to give assume that an entire industry is moral, and just; when people go in for a variety reasons (as recently as 20 years ago, the vast majority of medical students said it was for money), and it’s worth noting that cuts across a vast majority of demographics and motives. And, for better or worse, that cuts across vast swathes of competence - for far too many folks, it’s a job - a rewarding job, but just a job. My father recently inquired about board exams and recertification as a way of guaranteeing some basic level of competence from everyone. He’s right, but the key word there is “basic.” Again, “basic” is fine for first aid and most major medical issues; it’s unacceptable if you have a disease with a 90% fiver-year mortality rate.

I bring this up because I think I chronicled my first appointment with my insurance-appointed GP five or six weeks ago and seemed perfectly satisfactory to my ongoing addiction to experimental chemotherapy. I’m certain it was within that time frame, because I had schedule a six-week follow-up. Which, sadly lands on my “week off” chemo. So, yesterday, after infusion #2 for this cycle (for those of you wondering what I’m doing to stay busy during infusions these days, well, rewriting Christmas carols for cancer patients)(”On the first day of chemo, the nurses gave to me, zofran in an IV”). I also convinced dear old Dad to take me out to lunch, because, again, when the Marizomib side effects hit, you do not fee like eating. This was in the neighborhood of the latest addition to my collection of medical people, so I thought I’d reschedule then. And was told by the receptionist to wait for everyone behind me to check in lest they be late for appointments. That would be fine, but it seems a fundamental misunderstanding of how queus work. And, any time post five-ish hours on infusion day, even though zofran might keep me from puking, it does give me an odd, oily, queasy sensation. I think I deserve some sort of gold star for not puking on this woman right away (again, if you have unconventional problems, feel free to start with an unconventional approach)(my next writing project will be titled, “Life Lessons from Necromancers”). I eventually - using the traditional method of looking down the reception counter, noticed someone not otherwise occupied, and manage to get an appointment more amenable to my schedule. For a physical.

Again, I’d love to use some four-letter words here, but even Finnish fails to meet the requirement. Now, it should be noted that, even though I’m well-aware that I’m physically Adonis-like; I am in chemo and recovering from radiation treatment, Radiation Oncologist implied a few months ago that, even though my scan was clean and looked good for someone with brain cancer, anyone unfamiliar with my case would probably freak out about them. Same thing with my abnormal, uh, “lab sample” I wrote about recently - the nurses agreed, a single abnormal test is hardly unexpected toward the end of chemo, especially since I’m now on a diet consisting mostly of protein, fiber, cafeine, and dangerous, experimental substances. However, I’d prefer not to have to point all that out to a new medical person who has the power to yank the plug on me (sadly, my original GP will be on vacation that week. (I’ll also be on Temodar, so there’s a solid chance my brains will be thoroughly scrambled and incapable of comprehension).

ANYWAY… WEIGHT: 198 lb CONCENTRATION: Pretty good, APPETITE: Normal (but this is 24 hours post-infusion. ACTIVITY LEVEL: Not great; the fatigue side effect definitely caught up with me and chewed me up last night. SLEEP QUALITY: Okay. although I’ve noticed that I definitely thrash around on chemo days. COORDINATION/DEXTERITY: Lousy. Thank Gods I don’t need the walker, and I don’t even think I need my magic ankle support, but my left leg is definitely unreliable today. MEMORY: Not bad, although I did forget my sheets were in the wash earlier today (although I recall stripping the bed and tossing them into the washer). PHYSICAL: Tired and kind of wobbly, but still a lot better than this time a year ago.. EMOTIONAL: Okay. It might just be that I spent yesterday next to my zofran-and-CDB salt-lick, but I’m starting to think I might make it through all this somewhat intact. Hang on. Am I really starting to believe my own bullshit? SIDE EFFECTS: Tired, somewhat sore (either chemo or increasing the difficulty of that stupid elliptical), and in the wrong time-zone, but, other than that, not much.  CURRENTLY READING (For Donna): Gonzo Girl, and The Explorer’s Guild (A Passage to Tshamballah)