#Murdoch i just think is a cool name and I picked it like. almost a year ago

[threefeline]

A few doodles of Gislaine's closer family.

Their vampire mother(Xernea) and Satyr step-father(Alanus) with a full monster form Xernea. She met Alanus when he was the victim of a stagecoach robbery and basically just left out in the cold to die.

Gislaine and their son Rowan

The late Murdoch. He at least got to see his son for the first few months of his life before he died.

And their younger brother(shorter, Loch) and Loch's husband Dova.

Loch and Dova have been married for a few years, having gotten married shortly before Murdoch had been killed. Charolette comes into the picture a little later but she's got an older brother named Amias!

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Kenickie Murdoch

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You never really cared about social classes or what people chose to wear. In theory, you didn’t mind greasers; you’d actually been quite fond of them at your old school. You just didn’t like the greasers at Rydell. 

- Your family moved houses during your senior year and since Rydell was much closer than the school you’d been going to for the past three years, your parents chose to enroll you there instead. 

- Fast forward to your first day at school. Coincidentally, you ended up on the same bus as Patty Simcox, who enthusiastically took it upon herself to become your tour guide. 

- The minute you stepped foot into the schools parking lot, her eyes zeroed in on a group of boys who were stood near the front of the school. You glanced over and asked if something was wrong. Her response was to warn you about “the T-Birds” and the other greaser/delinquent groups in the school. 

- You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes and assured her you would, mainly to change the subject. You hadn’t really intended to avoid the kids, well, up until you got your first real look at them. 

- Greasers started trouble at your old school, but it was always with people who either deserved it or were willing to fight back. This; you watched as the group of boys teased “Eugene”, wasn’t the same. You shook your head and made your way to your first period class, realizing that it was probably good to stay away from these delinquents. 

- But alas, that would prove to be quite difficult. Kenickie was in; at least, one of your classes; he could have been in more considering you were sure he cut half of them that day. And he seemed to take a liking to you the moment he walked in; late, to class. 

- You could feel him burning holes into the side of your head and when you finally glanced towards him, he gave you a small crooked grin. You rolled your eyes and turned away, intent on ignoring him for the rest of the period. He didn’t like that. 

- Throughout the period, which was filled with first day “fun” activities, he became increasingly bothersome with his attempts to garner your attention. Tapping his fingers, tapping his foot, dropping a textbook “on accident”, making loud jokes. You accidentally chuckled at one of them and were immediately met with a grin and wink once you snuck a glance at him. 

- The bell chimed and you picked up your things, making your way out of class quickly, hoping to leave him in the dust. You had no such luck as he seemed to be hot on your tail, matching your pace as he uttered his first words to you. 

“Haven’t seen you around here.”

“Maybe you haven’t looked hard enough.”

“Believe me, I’d remember a face like yours.” 

“Well maybe you should try and forget it.” You told him just as you entered your next class, leaving him standing in the doorway; a determined look plastered across his face. This wouldn’t be the end of it. 

- For the next few months, Kenickie would do everything he could to get you to acknowledge him. Teasing, flirting, complimenting, peacocking, playing it cool; you name it.  

- Going to hang out somewhere? He always just happens to be there, catching your eye as he enters the room. If you go to walk past him, he’ll block you with his legs, making you stop and speak to him; if only to say an exasperated excuse me, as you wait. 

- Waiting outside for someone? Well so is he. Hey, it isn’t his fault that you’re stood in a popular place that his friends always meet at …but while you’re here, why doesn’t he buy you a coke or something? 

- It’s not that you hated him. Sure, he annoyed you and could be a real jerk when he wanted to be but you didn’t hate him. A part of you even liked him and his attention, but you also knew that it probably wasn’t in your best interest to be interested in him. 

- Ever since you came to the school, all you ever heard about was how him and his friends did this or how him and his friends did that. Watch out for Kenickie. Oh can you guess who Kenickie parked with last night. Some of  it seemed exciting and he was certainly handsome, but he was also trouble and that was the last thing you needed, wasn’t it? 

- Unfortunately for you, Kenickie wasn’t keen on giving up and your resolve was beginning to break. His flirtation took a less obnoxious turn, it even started sounding sweet and soon enough you had to admit that he’d wormed his way into your heart. 

- It was after school one day, you were sat in the nearly empty courtyard, reading a book and enjoying the sun. After a while, you heard boots scraping slightly on the concrete behind you, the noise getting closer and closer until you heard your name. You immediately knew who it was. 

“Kenickie?” You asked, turning to look at him.

- He locked eyes with you for a moment, looking as though he really wanted to say something before he glanced up. His eyes scanned over the five people who were sat in the courtyard around you, his teeth nibbling anxiously at his bottom lip. 

“C’mon, I gotta talk to you.” He said, taking you by the arm and pulling you out of your seat, dragging you behind him as he walked to a totally deserted area behind the school. 

- The two of you stopped short and you watched him as he turned towards you. He was acting …strangely. Was he sick? Was he on something? You were about to say something when he finally spoke. 

“Y/n? You know how I’m always messin with ya?” He tugged at his collar, his eyes darting around, moving from the ground to your face and back to the ground again. “And how I- How I’ve, well, you know. How I’ve been messin with ya. 

- Listening to him ramble, it took you a minute but you finally realized what was going on. The Kenickie Murdoch …was nervous. 

- The thought flattered you more than anything. The tough greaser of your school was getting genuinely flustered and it was because of you. 

- His eyes landed on you for a long moment, his words coming to a stop as he seemed to mull over what he should say. Finally, he looked to his feet and spoke, his voice so low that you almost didn’t hear what he said.

“Well, I like you and I wanted to know if you, maybe, liked me too.” He gazed into your eyes once he’d finished, an uncharacteristic vulnerability lingering inside his baby blues. 

- You felt yourself begin to smile, butterflies fluttering inside your stomach as you tried to think of how to respond. Simple seemed like the way to go.

“Yeah,” You said softly, smiling up at him. “Yeah, I like you.”

- A big grin spread across his face, his nerves leaving him in an excited chuckle as he gripped your bicep and gave it a gentle push. Biting his lip as he smiled, his hand moved at his side as though he were banging it against something, before realizing he probably looked like a big goof. 

“Great,” He cleared his throat. “Good. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

- Your first date was at the drive-in theater. You don’t know how hard it was for him to not make a move on you. If you ever noticed him suddenly stiffen, it was because he was willing himself not to reach down and touch your boob or lunge across his center console and kiss you until you couldn’t breathe. You’re a lady, he can’t do that! Bad Kenickie! Bad!

- Knowing his reputation, you chose to make him wait a little and anticipate your first kiss. So the two of you kissed for the first time on your fourth date. But believe me, he tried to smooch you before then.

- The two of you had gone to Frosty’s palace for a shake and after you were finished, he drove the two of you to “makeout point”. He tried to act innocent when you gave him a look but he wasn’t fooling anyone. You rolled your eyes as he drummed his fingers along the steering wheel, uttering out a “come on” and smiling as he dove to connect your lips.

- Well, now that you have him, you won’t be able to get rid of him anytime soon. Not that you want to.

- Pda? All the time baby. You’re his girl and he’s gotta show it …just no goo goo ga ga stuff. He’s got a tough greaser reputation to keep up, ya know?

- His arm is wrapped around your shoulders 90% of the time.

- He likes gripping your chin and tilting you into a kiss. That lovey dovey look in your eyes as your gazing up at him gets him every time.

- Sitting between his legs and leaning back against his chest. He’s a serial lounger so it’s either that or he’ll just drape himself across you.

- He uses a lot of nicknames with you. Most of them are used in a sarcastic tone, unless they’re generic or the two of you are alone.

- Playful threats, sarcasm, and snide remarks.

- He will nap on you, laying his head in your lap and crossing his arms over his chest. Hope you don't mind the grease too much.

- He’ll deny it until his very last breath, but he’s a snuggler and is definitely the one to initiate cuddles 90% of the time. He complains and practically pouts whenever you pull away from him.

- The two of you usually cuddle facing each other, your arms wrapped snug around each other and your legs tangled together. He can’t help but smile whenever you sleepily tell him he smells good; which he always does.

- He insists on walking you to class, not caring about when he manages to get to his own. He’s late everyday anyway.

- Sneaking out to go see him. There’s always a smile on his face as he watches you make your way outside, though he’ll; weakly, scold you if you do anything dangerous. You just tell him that he could always stop coming to see you. He never takes you up on that offer.

- Late night drives.

- Parking in dark areas.

- Desperate makeouts. He always trails after your lips every time you pull away, moaning your name like the two of you were doing a whole lot more than kissing.

- One word: insatiable. His hormones are racing. Testosterone is pumping through his body. His pelvis is leading the way wherever he goes. He can force himself to wait until you want to do something but boy is it hard when you look so good.

- The more heated things get, the sloppier his kisses become; though you’re usually too far gone to really care.

- “Sneaky butt grabs” and blatant grinding against you.

- He definitely air humps your backside and makes grabbing hands at your butt/chest when you aren’t facing him, pretending like he wasn't doing anything when you turn to look at him.

- Hickeys. 

- Soft pushes when he makes wisecracks. He’ll knock shoulders with you and smirk or waggle his eyebrows, until you smile and roll your eyes.

- Anytime he does something; especially something big, he’ll ask what you think or look towards you for your reaction. He seeks your praise. Your opinion means a lot to him, even if he doesn’t outright say it.

- He probably got your name tattooed on him at some point. I wouldn't put it past the sucker.

- Not so deep down, he’s a softie and a pushover; especially for you. Try not to give him too much lip when he gets all goo goo eyed with you.

- As suave as he may seem. He hasn’t made it with all that many girls; at least not all the way. Sometimes, you’re gonna be genuinely shocked with some of the confessions that he makes to you because they all just make him seem so much more …cute.

- Momma’s boy. You think it’s sweet when you go over to his house and she dotes on him, usually prompting him to give an embarrassed “ma” with a mouthful of sandwich and/or reddening cheeks.

- He doesn't have a whole lot of spending money so; generally, the two of you go on fairly cheap dates, and usually go Dutch when buying things.

- Sock hops.

- Sharing and stealing food. If you can’t finish something and ask if he wants it, be prepared for him to grab it before you can even finish your sentence.

- He’s always got a beer for you if you’re into that sorta thing. He was probably the person to give you your first, amongst other firsts....

- Double; and more, dates with the couples in his gang.

- Your boyfriend is also Danny Zuko's boyfriend so expect to see the greaser a lot. He’s pretty fond of you and much sweeter than you anticipated.

- You’re only allowed to wear the jacket when it’s late at night and he catches you shivering; or when you’re completely alone. He won’t let any of the other guys see you wearing it, they can’t know that he’s gone soft.

- He’s not the best at comforting you but he’s pretty good at cheering you up and distracting you from what’s bothering you.

- Dangerous displays and daredevil antics. Whether he does them to impress or spook you is still up for debate.

- Harmless pranks, usually when you’re alone because he’d have to kick someone’s ass if they laughed you. He’s the only one allowed to tease you.

- He likes looking through your things. Your purse, your shelves, your locker; he’s a curious boy and his questions must be answered through scientific observation. He’s also looking for your compact mirror half the time so maybe just take your bag back and get it for him. 

- Sometimes, a womans gotta stand her ground and you’ll have to every now and again to make sure he doesn't walk all over you. He loves you but he can also be a jerk so give him a little hell when he’s giving you trouble. He learns that you aren’t to be toyed with or disrespected pretty quickly, and to be honest, you putting him in his place kinda turns him on.

- You once went to see a movie with him and offhandedly mentioned that one of the actors was handsome. He spent the whole night criticizing the movie and glancing at you when the actor was on screen to see your reaction. He was also extra handsy and kept trying to make a move, which prompted you to shrug him off. He was genuinely offended that you’d rather watch the guy then fool around with him.

- He can; obviously, be quite the jealous man. The only problem is that when he’s jealous, he usually tries to make you jealous too; especially if you’re fighting. It usually culminates in him failing to keep himself under control, finally just snapping and trying to beat the other guy bloody which is pretty much how all of his bouts of jealousy turn out. 

- He’s protective as all hell in all meanings of the word. He doesn’t want you getting hurt feelings, a hurt body, sick; nothing. He always jumps to your defense, immediately telling people to shut up if they even try to insult or hint at something unsatisfactory about you. Believe me, anybody who messes with you is cruisin’ for a bruisin’. 

- The two of you probably argue quite a bit but you don’t always have full blown fights. He’s usually a pretty blunt and sarcastic boy and doesn’t mince his words very often; especially when he’s angry, so things can get pretty heated whenever you do have a fight. 

- If you storm out on him, he’ll follow, even if he knows you’re about ready to kill him. He’ll take all the abuse you want to throw at him but you’re going to settle and square it right then and there, dammit!

- If you don’t wind up resolving things immediately after, then he’ll linger where he knows you’ll pass, hoping you’ll come up to him and forget everything that happened. He’s shy when apologizing but he does give you one when he’s in the wrong. 

- He shyly mumbles out a “love you” after you say it, especially when it’s in front of the guys. He’ll knock their blocks off if they even so much as smile at his expense.

- He proposes to you straight out of highschool. Some may call him crazy but he knows that you’re the one and he’s ready to spend the rest of his life with you.

[rivet-ing-titanic]

American Inquiry Day 7 - Senator Newlands

Witnesses:

Edward Wheelton, Saloon Steward, RMS Titanic;

William H. Taylor, Fireman, RMS Titanic;

George Moore, Able Seaman, RMS Titanic;

Thomas Jones, Able Seaman, RMS Titanic;

Notable Quotes/Lines of Questioning or Summary of Testimony:

Wheelton, when roused, ran to the boat stations, nearby boat number 5 when he was ordered to go to the storeroom. On B deck he passed Thomas Andrews (chief builder and representative of Harland &Wolff) going door to door making sure no people were in them. Once back up on the boat deck, Wheelton assisted in lowering boats 7 and 9 before being ordered into boat 11. Wheelton estimated that there were about 58 people total in the boat, which had been loaded from A deck not the boat deck, they had been ushered down there from the boat deck, by a steward.

“Not one. The only trouble we had was with one lady who would not get into the boat. We attempted twice to get her in, and the last time I said to my friend helping me, ‘Pull her in’; and we pulled her in.” – Wheelton (this is the first testimony that had been heard where a passenger refused to enter a lifeboat)

“I would like to say something about the bravery exhibited by the first officer, Mr. Murdoch. He was perfectly cool and very calm.” –Wheelton

Fireman Taylor was very brief in his initial telling of what happened for him that night. He heard the alarm for accidents ring outside his quarters, he went to his assigned lifeboat, no. 15 (crew boarded from the boat deck and passengers boarded from A deck) and went away in it (they too feared the suction) with about 40-45 people he estimates, the vast majority being third class women and children. Another fireman was in command of this boat and Taylor believed there was an additional 6 crew members. When they hit the water they too rowed towards the light that they thought to be the light of a ship.

Able Seaman Moore was another member of the crew who likened the impact as “there was suddenly a noise like a cable running out, like a ship dropping anchor. There was not any shock at all.”

Moore assisted in lowering boats 5 and 7, and when number 3 was swung out, he was ordered into the boat to assist the women and children by First Officer Murdoch. After there were no more women and children, Moore testified that five or six firemen jumped in the boat. In total boat 3 had 32 people. They too pulled towards the white light, which Moore believed to be a fisherman.

“It seemed pretty full, but I dare say we could have jammed more in. The passengers were not anxious to get in the boats; they were not anxious to get in the first lot of boats.” – Moore

” I saw the forward part of her go down, and it appeared to me as if she broke in half, and then the after part went. I can remember two explosions.” –Moore

On going back to the ship: “All the people in the boat wanted to get clear of the ship. They did not want to go near her. They kept urging me to keep away; to pull away from her. In fact, they wanted to get farther away.” – Moore

A number of the crew were asked by Senator Newlands why almost 1/3 of the survivors were members of the crew. Moore could account “I can only account for the seamen being saved, two in each boat. That would number just about the number of seamen who were saved … I think 39 were saved.”

Newlands (and other senators) also asked why there was no drill held on Sunday (as was customary) and many replied that they did not know (which, not being officers, they would not). They were also questioned as to the difference it would have made had the crew been sailing together longer say 6 months, whether that would have made a difference. Both Moore and Able Seaman Jones felt they had quite the accomplished crew, and they could work together as well as any.

Jones had also been a lookout on previous ships, and when asked about the utility of glasses in the crow’s nest, he said “not much of a help to pick anything up; but to make it out afterwards, they were.” He also stated that they were not of any use at all at night.

“I got the collapsible boat on the port side ready. I got my own boat, No. 8, ready. An officer sent me for a lamp…I went back again, and this No. 8 boat was there, all swung out, and there were about 35 ladies in it. I jumped in the boat. The captain asked me was the plug in the boat, and I answered, ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘All right,’ he said, ‘Any more ladies?’ There was one lady came there and left her husband, She wanted her husband to go with her, but he backed away, and the captain shouted again - in fact, twice again - ‘Any more ladies?’ There were no more there, and he lowered away... Yes [the lady got in] , her and a little girl. I don't know who she was. I don't know her name. He told me to row for the light, and land the passengers and return to the ship. I pulled for the light, and I found that I could not get near the light, and I stood by for a little while. I wanted to return to the ship, but the ladies were frightened, and I had to carry out the captain's orders and pull for that light; so I did so. I pulled for about two hours, and then it started to get daybreak, and we lost the light; and then all of a sudden we saw the Carpathia coming, and we turned right back and made for the Carpathia. That is all I know, sir.” – Jones

Jones on the Countess of Rothes: “One lady. She had a lot to say, and I put her to steering my boat.”

It has been a trend that all crew believed she would not sink, that they were being sent out on the boats for a couple of hours and they would then return. Some of the firemen were even joking about it. Most still did not believe it until they were in the boats away from her and saw that she was going down by the bow.

 BACK to DAY 7 Main Post

[spaceorphan18]

Marvel Movie Night: Daredevil

...

...

Okay.  

This is a terrible film.  I mean, I did know that going in - but I now give the two Blade films some credit for at least being entertaining.  This film isn’t really entertaining.  It’s what happens when you smush Batman 89 with Batman returns and take out all Tim Burton quirkiness.  No, really, the plot is seriously like a blend of those two films.  Matt Murdoch (Daredevil) watches his father die to the hands of villains, grows up, becomes a lawyer to deal out justice the /right/ way.  Meets a girl (who would be a vigilante as well if the film had any time to develop that) who dies (though, who knows, she might be back...) and stares off into the night on the top of a NYC Skyscraper.  Oh geez... 

I watched the Director’s Cut of the film, hoping that I was getting the better version of the film, because a lot of sources said it’s the better version.  I can’t imagine what the theatrical cut was like, because this version takes itself way, way too seriously.  I get that they were trying to go for the Frank Miller feel (Frank Miller being a comic book creator known for his darker superhero runs, and Miller’s Daredevil run was one of the most famous).  So, I get that.  But film is almost trying too hard.  

The director, Mark Steven Johnson, only had one film under his belt before doing this one -- Simon Birch.  I guess Johnson has gone on to make better films, but since he’s a comedy writer, it seems weird to let him handle this film.  He also wrote the screenplay -- which Kevin Feigi apparently approved.  There had to be something going on with development, because not only is the script full of bad dialogue, but nearly every aspect of this film is just poorly constructed.  

The film wants to be edgy, but comes off as stiff and ridiculous at times.  It’s still a product of the early superhero films, taking a nod from the recent X-Men film’s decision to go darker, and made everything so dramatic it came off as melodrama.  The acting is so stiff that I can’t take most of the characters seriously.  The plot is so tired, it literally feels like its ripping off a Batman film.  The music is irritating.  The few attempts at special effects weak.  

So.  Daredevil is one of the few (main) Marvel characters whom I don’t really know much about.  I’ve never picked up one of the comics.  I vaguely know is backstory.  I can’t judge this film by how well it does with the comics material.  But, in this case, I can’t even get to that level of discussion because this film kinda fails before we even can get to those kind of comparisons.  

At the same time, I think the at points they relied too heavily on knowledge of the comics.  Why is Matt Murdoch hanging around a church all the time -- oh cause he has issues with being Catholic.  Never brought up once in the film, which makes the church thing super weird.  Why is Elektra killed in such an abrupt and unsatisfying death? Oh because it happened that way in the comics.  I feel like I’ve probably missed a lot of reasons why things were happening because they were in the comics.  I really don’t think you should have to read the comics for these things to make sense.  

Alright so... Ben Affleck as Daredevil.  Meh.  Daredevil, a blind superhero who also is a great lawyer, is an interesting character - and I’m now super interested in Netflix’s Daredevil series.  I won’t blame Affleck entirely for Daredevil himself being such a bad main character.  The tonal shifts in the script don’t help.  But Murdoch has two modes - intensely moody and brooding, and being a dick.  There’s nothing likable about the guy.  Nothing intriguing about the guy.  He’s not even that mysterious.  He’s just there.  And it seems like Affleck isn’t sure what to do with any of it.  One point he’s throwing bad guys over the railing of a subway where they get chopped in half.  The other minute he’s claiming he’s not the bad guy as a child cries as he’s beating up a bad guy.  This film doesn’t know what it wants to do with its main character. 

Jennifer Garner is fine as Elektra, despite the romance part of the film being terribly developed.  While it was before Affleck and Garner got together - they seem to genuinely like each other, and it’s the one relationship of this film that seems to have plausibility, again, despite being such a poorly developed plot. 

Michael Clarke Duncan is the film’s main villain Fisk.  Apparently, his performance was called over-the-top.  I think he’s fine for a villain in a superhero film, and one of the few people in the film who seems like they’re enjoying being in it.  The other villain is Colin Farrel’s Bullseye.  He’s supposed to be Irish.  Seems like Farrel kinda remembers that some times, lol.  Anyway, he’s this film’s Darth Maul, only there to kill people in fancy ways, and be someone for Daredevil (and Elektra) to fight against.  

Other Thoughts: 

The soundtrack and the sound editing is irritating.  It’s trying to be cool and edgy with its hard rock, heavy metal, and rap soundtrack, but it just seems like overkill.  The few slower songs seem so on the nose its distracting.  And the score isn’t great or memorable.  Plus, there’s an annoying high-pitched wail whenever some of the special effects are being used.  (Huh - apparently this soundtrack won some awards.  Weird, okay) 

Jon Favreau is in the film!! He’s kind of playing a Happy Hogan-like sidekick.  And he’s easily the best part of the film.  He’s the only one in the film who feels like he’s natural in his part, and he’s a sheer joy to watch while everything else is a bit tedious.  His back and forth with Ben Affleck isn’t that great though, tbh.  Hope he finds a scene partner he can have better chemistry with...  

Grey’s Anatomy’s Ellen Pompeo is in this for two scenes.  She doesn’t do much of anything, it was just weird to see her in there. 

Coolio has a cameo! Playing an framed guy Matt Murdoch has to defend.  He’s actually pretty entertaining in the small amount we get him. 

Like all superhero movies, there are a lot of nods to the comics.  This one over does the schitck of naming half their characters after comics creators.  Enough so that it felt like it stuck out like a sore thumb every time they mentioned another name.  They even named Kevin Smith’s character Jack Kirby.  **headdesk** 

Oh yeah, Kevin Smith is randomly here as well for a scene.  

Final Thoughts: Please do yourself a favor and don’t bother with this film.  Not gonna lie, I’d rather watch The Incredible Hulk again before ever watching this tedious mess again. 

Next Up: X2, thank god for something watchable. 

[deeafrotailmisstress]

Welcome to Requisitions

((An RP with @wethatkindoforc where Jazz got hired by Fantastic Enterprises!  🎊 So this is a brief short of how it went down and how Jeremy ditched because how dare he get an assistant amiright guys.)) Hobbson + Jeremy Murdoch belong to @wethatkindoforc Jazz belongs to moi

Located within a rather inconspicuous entrance on the apartment grounds of Emma’s Valley, at first glance the foyer for the Requisitions Department lends little more to first impressions than being a dim basement with a mash of boxes, books, and other clutter lining the walls. The air is cool, but circulating. Jazz awkwardly pulled at the collar on her shirt, grumbling as she shuffled down the cramped corridor. She would have prefered to wear her comfy ketchup-stained jumper, but Olka chastised her into wearing her best shirt. Behind the desk, a spindly Grumpel with pale, nigh-translucent skin sat writing furiously within a notebook. He looked up as Jazz entered.

“Oh! Hello there!” he greeted with a wide smile. “You wouldn’t happen to be Miss Abernale, would you?”

At the usage of her real name, Jazz’s smile looked forced as she walked up and awkwardly chuckled, “Yep da’z...da’z me. Uh...you da fella I’m meetin’ for gettin’ the job?”

Hobbs laughed - a light, almost giddy sort of sound. “I am Hobbson, yes. But everyone around here calls me Hobbs,” He shut his notebook, and scooted his chair out so he could come around the desk. Jazz blinked and almost tripped over her own feet as she hurriedly walked back to make way for the Grumpel. She had never conversed with one before so she didn’t expect them to be so...welcoming.

He held out a hand in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. We’re very excited to have some fresh eyes in the department. Can I get you anything? Water? Tea? A few barrels of Malangorian coffee? It was outlawed back in 1632, you know. Very hard to get a hold of.” He winked.

Jazz’s smile became more genuine as she shook his hand, “Hobbs? Da’z a cool name dude. Da name’s Jazz but ya already knew dat. And uh...it’s just Jazz. Please.” She chuckled nervously but instead of letting go she squeezed his hand one more time and stared intriguingly with an excited smile, “Sorreh, I ain’ never shook hands with a Grumpels befo’. Y’all got strawberry milk?”

Hobb’s hand was cool to the touch - almost...squishy, really, though it leaves no residue on Jazz’s hand as they part. Her question only seemed to delight him more. “You know! We’ve never actually had a request for that before! But if that is your beverage of choice we would be happy to keep it on hand. You will learn there is very little that Requisitions can get a hold of.”

“T’anks dude, I ain’t much of a booz girl.” The curly-haired girl grinned as she laughed along with him.

He gestured to a small table in the corner of the room. It too was stacked with books, something he seemed to only just remember as the Grumpel looked at it. “Oh, pardon me. It’s always a bit of a mess around here. But do - come sit. Tell me a little bit about yourself.”

Jazz’s nerves rose again as Hobbs asked her to sit down. Having never been in a job interview...questioning...thing, in addition to this Grumpel knowing her real name, it was the first time she had felt unsettled in ages. “Before I do dat mister, mind if I ask you a question first?” Jazz sat down and rubbed her knees before asking bluntly, “How comes y’all know my real name?”

Hobbs tilted his head slightly, all six of his little antennae bending with the motion. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and easily sat down across from her. “Those who work for Fantastic Enterprises come from all walks of life, Jazz,” He explained. “Mr. Fantastic adopts a ‘clean slate’ policy to everyone who joins on - but that doesn’t mean we aren’t very thorough about our background checks.”

The little human patted a rhythm on her knees as she nodded, pursing her lips with a pop. “Ah. Soo I don’ gotta explain to y’all the shit-storm that is my family den.” Jazz chuckled weakly, rubbing the back of her neck while not looking anywhere near Hobbs.

Finally she sighed and clapped her hands together with a closed smile, “A’ight, no bullshittin’ or nothin’, I’mma be really real wid ya Hobberooo since I figure y’all are gonna find out about d’is sooner or later.” Without warning, she randomly lifted up the hem of her shirt to reveal a very nasty scar mark on the left side of her torso, the logo unmistakeable. “Ya know what dis shit is right.”

Hobb’s normally placid face melted with concern. “Oh - oh yes, I do,” his hand came up, almost as though to reach out and touch the mark - but he stopped himself. “I gather you did not leave with their blessing?”

“HAH. Nope.” Jazz snorted derisively. She pulled down her shirt with a dry smirk as she continued, “Ya know dat bigass slave breakout ‘round last year? Dat was Olka who was leadin’ it, and how me an’ da others escaped.” She was sure this probably wasn’t increasing her chances of getting hired, but continued regardless, “An’ I gotta tell ya Hobbs, dey ain’ stopping. I don’t know why but, da last fella sent by dem says dey want Jazz Olka an’ Moki all alive still. So...I was kinda hopin’ dat y’all be offerin’ protection from dat kinda thing?” Jazz glanced up hopefully.

The kind smile returned to Hobb’s features. “Miss J- Jazz. Just Jazz. You could be in no safer space. As I said before, we come from all paths here. Many still hide from their demons. I myself once found myself living in unfavorable company. But Mr. Fantastic was there to take me away from all that. I think you will find that he is more than willing to help you too.”

Jazz almost looked offended at such an idea, “Fo’ real?! Well da’z just rude, who’d wanna hurt a Hobbs?” She crossed her legs with a huff. She looked to the side and thoughtfully bit her lip; the job offer was awfully tempting. “Fo’ me and Olka? And all you guys want back is we work for you righ’?”

Hobbs chuckled. “It’s not so straight-forward an arrangement. Around here, we just ask that you be the best...well, you, that you can be.”

Jazz’s smile grew wider, “Really?! Da’z cool, Jazz can do that, I already feel like I’m da best!” She slapped both her knees and was about to get up only to sit back down again and stroke her chin as she mumbled, “Wait, is Olka gonna be chill wid dat...I think she’s da best but she gotta t’ink dat too hmmm…”

Another laugh bubbled from Hobb’s throat - wherever it was. “Some employees are more of a work in progress than others. Speaking of which - Jeremy!” his voice raised as he called upward.

“Yep!” A sharp voice called back from somewhere beyond the stairs. “What can I do for you, man?”

“Jeremy, don’t make me yell, come down here,” Hobbs requested.

It took several long seconds. Finally, the sound of a chair scooching harshly across the floor was heard, followed by footsteps. “Listen,” Jeremy started before he reached the end of the stairs, “I’m like, twenty minutes away from getting Holdon’s report out and - oh. Hello Jazz,” He greeted flatly as he saw the woman sitting at the table.

Jazz grinned brightly at the familiar face waving, “Yoo, didn’ know you was chillin’ ‘round here too Jeremy!” She quizzically raised a brow at Hobbs, “Wha’z Jeremy gotta do with progress-workin’ folk?”

Jeremy crossed his arms and leant nonchalantly against the door frame. “Oh right, yeah. Chillin’. That’s what I do around here. Just fuck about. Get trashed with Hobbs. Keep him company.” He explained in a casual manner.

Hobbs looked patiently at Jeremy, smiling that ever-placid smile. “What Jeremy means, is that he works here.” Hobbs explained. “Jeremy - I was wondering if you’d be willing to show Jazz around the department, seeing as you two already seem to be familiar.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes as he pushed himself off the door frame. “Yeah yeah, I can do that,” he sighed in a resigned sort of way.

No sooner did Jeremy lean away did Jazz look between the two and grinned, “A’ighty, mini-room explorin’ adventure, LE’Z GO!” She quite literally bounced off the chair and skipped to the other employee, “So where we headin’ first?”

Jeremy gave Hobbs a look that said he really didn’t appreciate having his super important ‘work’ be interrupted for a tour. But he stepped forward to lead the way. “We’ll start with intake, then head down to lock up. The place feels bigger than it is but you can still get lost, so.”

“It’s still very big!” Hobbs called back brightly, “You two have fun!”

“Ya got it chief!” Jazz saluted back at Hobbs while following obediently after Jeremy with a spring in her step, excited to see the new area and not shy about immediately asking questions, “So wha’z an intake? Is lock up like a prison? Are there scary baddies in da prison? If Jazz gets lost do I chill in the lock up or the intake?”

Jeremy kept walking, but he did toss a squinty-eyed stare over his shoulder at Jazz for a moment. “Do you even know what requisitions does?”

Jazz chirped cheerfully, “Nope!”

The leading guide sighed. Jeremy brought a hand up to rub down his face. “Right. Well. We track down and pick up things the company needs. Most of it’s boring shit. Other times you actually get to find something interesting.”

Jazz focused all her attention on Jeremy as he explained, letting out an ‘ooh!’ before grinning, “Interestin’ like what? Ya ever find anythin’ cool an’ mysterious? Wha’z da weirdest t’ing ya ever found, out an’ about?” Jazz poked her chin as she recollected, “I once found a skeech-caved statue wid ice on her tits.” She bit her tongue between her teeth cheekily as she snorted, “Called her Titsicles.”

Jeremy snorted but he really tried to hide the fact that he was smiling. “Yeah okay. That’s not bad,” He said in a scrutinizing, cocky sort of way. “Amature, but not bad. I mean I got to track down a kid in a cryo-pod once, but don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll get up to that level.”

Jeremy spent the rest of the tour pointing at doors, naming them and, as promised, going over the intake, lock up, office space and the forbidden room. Jazz was in fact so intrigued by the latter that she didn’t really notice Jeremy ditch.

“Uh...Jeremy?” She whirled her head left and right down the corridor but he wasn’t anywhere in sight. She blinked before brightly gasping, “Oooh I get it, we’re playin’ hide an’ seek!” She took off in a very wrong direction while looking around. It would take quite a while before Jazz would figure out what happened and for Hobbs to scold Jeremy heavily for not giving her a proper tour.

[xaz-fr]

The Story So Far

@deadpool-scar-bro @hikayelastoria @cornsnoot-fr @redlion-fr @mushroomdraggo @murdoch-fr @tales-around-sornieth @frxemriss @rainhearts-hatchery @rexcaliburr-fr @onikuma-fr @serthis-archivist @fitzfr @reanimatedfr @voltaic-ambassador @sirensage-fr @journey-taken-fr @ally-fr (let me know if you’d like to be added to the lore pinglist)

dragons are humanoid unless said otherwise

Spayar is a mean asshole which mmmm, accurate

Three Foot Casket pt 6

Astra arrived at the Tangle with Aten and her children to the druids gathered in a circle, talking. She swallowed. They were surrounding the obvious shape of a hatchling. Aten put his hand on her shoulder. “I will take him, you talk to them,” he offered and she was glad she could relinquish her son to her brother. She took a deep breath and approached the adults.

They stopped talking when she got near. “Astra,” Spayar said, hardly a greeting, almost an accusation of what the fuck had she brought a dead hatchling to them for.

“Hello,” she said wishing she felt braver than she was.

“That wildclaw who came said this child belonged to you,” Tassa said and she looked so disappointed. Astra wanted to run and hide. Far more than Savathün Astra considered Tassa as a surrogate mother. Tassa had cared for her and Aten when they’d been children, treated them like her own children. Tassa was kind and wonderful despite her usual disposition towards others and seeing her disapproving look hurt more than Astra was expecting.

“Yes,” she said taking a deep breath.

“What is it with your children that you just can’t keep them?” Spayar asked, being unintentionally cruel. Tassa smacked his arm and hummed angrily at him. He just rolled his eyes.

“I know you— he needs to be buried,” she sniffed and stood up straight. She knew what everyone in the Hall thought of her. That Stitcher girl who’d been taken in by Savathün and who knew what had been done to her over the years. All anyone knew was that now and then her children appeared in North Face for Johanna to find homes for amid her numerous contacts and allies. “I know the druids handle such affairs.”

“We do,” Spayar said, crossing his arms.

“Don’t be mean, Spayar. Her child just died,” a blonde haired man she didn’t know said. He hadn’t been here when Astra had been taken in. That or she didn’t remember him.

Spayar didn’t move. “Anything we need to know about this body?”

“I assure I don’t know what that means,” Astra said tightly. “He was murdered what do you want from me?” she demanded.

The blonde jabbed Spayar in the ribs and Tassa pushed him out of the way. “Of course, dear. I’m sorry for your loss,” she took Astra’s hand. “We’ll have to speak with Fjord about a box to be made.”

“Thank you,” she bowed her head a little.

“How did he die?” Tassa asked.

“Magic. I don’t know,” she shook her head slightly. “I didn’t hear the spell. His throat was just crushed.” Tassa pet her hand.

“No necromancy?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Probably not. The monster who killed him wanted him dead, not a puppet.” Azazel had wanted to make sure she suffered and make her watch just so she knew just how powerless she really was to him.

Tassa nodded. “I’ll take care of it. You can go to the Conservatory if you’d like. Better than that hole in the ground.”

“Thank you. I— yes, I need to not be underground.”

“I don’t know how you do it as a Wind dragon. You have more fortitude than I,” Tassa said to try and make her feel better. Astra didn’t have it in her to tell Tassa that more than once she felt she’d been driven mad by the tunnels and underground and she’d blindly sought the open sky before she suffocated.

“I— yes,” she just said.

Tassa looked around, “Moon, Moon!” she called to a young woman barely older than Astra who was weeding in a herb patch a ways away.

“Aye!” Moon called back.

“Come here, please.”

“Aye!”

“Moon will get you situated in the Conservatory. Someplace you and your children can relax until you figure out what you’re going to do with them.”

Astra went cold. She hadn’t thought of that until just then. Naively she thought that she could keep them but of course she couldn’t. Of course she couldn’t have her children close by. Azazel would kill them too. She nodded and Moon came over to them, a slight spring in her step. “Hey-ya, what’s up?” she asked Tassa.

“Moon, this is Astra. Please take her into the Conservatory. She has two hatchlings with her,” Tassa said.

“Sure thing, boss lady,” Moon was still bright. The men had picked her hatchling up and taken it somewhere and Moon hadn’t seen him. For the best. “Just come with me, Astra, we’ll find you a nice room,” she promised.

“Thank you,” she said and motioned for Aten to follow her. He brought the children with him and followed after her and Moon to the big building— really the only building— in the entire Tangle.

It was oddly cool in the bird cage-looking building despite the green house-like ceiling. Dense foliage grew all over the walls. Creeping vines and plants sprouting from cracks in the mortar. Flowers filled every crack and crevice and she’d never seen such a bright and lively building. It was a stark contrast from the home she lived in now. “Oh,” she said to herself, looking around.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Moon asked. “So here’s a lounge, you can stay here until Tassa is ready for whatever it is she’s doing for you.”

“Thank you,” Astra entered the room. The furniture was nicer than anything she’d ever seen in the Warren. It was new a with soft wood that felt like it had been molded into the perfect comfortable shape by druidic magic and then padded on the seat and back. The other was a lounge couch almost the same color as her wings.

“Of course. Don’t know what Tassa has you here for but it’ll work out. Tassa always gets things done, even if she has to beat Spayar over the head to do it,” she giggled. “See you,” she waved before gently closing the door.

Aten set the two hatchlings on the couch before shifting into his Imperial form. He just barely fit in the space and that was only because he wasn’t a fully grown dragon yet. Not yet. Not for his breed. “Come here,” he said gently. She went over to him and he dragged a big pillow over, setting it under his forearms. She crawled into his embrace and he coiled his neck around her. She pressed her face against the top of his head, her hands in his ruby mane and after a few seconds started to cry. Fat and ugly tears rolled down her cheeks onto his hide and into his mane. He said and did nothing except to nuzzle her the best he could.

When she could control herself she let go of Aten and wiped her eyes. She couldn’t help but laugh when Aten licked her face, getting rid of the tears easily. “Stop that you big oaf,” she said, batting him away. He just rumbled in amusement. She wiped her face with her tunic and looked around at where Aten had left her children. Her neck tightened. The sofa was empty.

She attempted to get up with a lurch but Aten held her down. “Relax, they’re exploring,” he said. “Over there,” he used his head to indicate and pointed at part of the room with different chairs. She relaxed. He laid his head down against his chest and forearms so he was eye level with her. “So Tassa is… taking care of it I guess. Now what?”

Her lips went thin, her neck tight. “They can’t come back with me to the Warren,” she said softly. “Azazel killed one, he’ll kill the others if I let him get close.” He hummed a little.  “Johanna-

“Is powerless,” he said. “I told you what happened to that one who stayed in North Face too long.”

“Yes,” she said softly, looking away. She didn’t care about that child but knowing how they’d died was still traumatic.

“There’s someone Azazel can’t touch, though,” Aten said.

“Who?” she asked and touched his eye ridge.

“I… made friends with the Progenitor, you know-

“You did?” her eyes were wide. He’d never told her that!

“Yes. I— it’s complicated.”

“Did you tell her everything?”

“I did. She’s so easy to talk to I just did it.”

“You trust her?”

“Of course! She’s the Progenitor. She also doesn’t like Savathün or Azazel and is the only reason Savathün didn’t burn the skin off my flesh. She likes it even less knowing what’s going on there, what’s in her territory.”

“Savathün always said the Progenitor was weak.”

She… has her issues, but I assure you; she isn’t weak.” Astra said nothing and turned to put her back against Aten’s neck, watching her children. They explored the room and she whistled to them sweetly. They looked and bounded over to her. Aten lifted his forearm so they could climb into the circle with her.

“She’d protect my babies?” Astra asked, stroking the hatchlings’ heads.

“If you asked, yes, probably.”

Astra frowned. “I will.”

She held them to her, filling her nose with their new baby smell and her fingers with their soft fur. “You have names for them?”

“I hadn’t had a chance to name them properly. I was too excited when they hatched and I was thinking of them and then… Azazel came,” she squeezed her little boy who squeaked after a moment.

“Well you have time now. What will you name them?”

Astra stroked the girl’s crest, tickling behind her horns. “Her name is Ilia.”

“That’s pretty,” Aten said approvingly.

“And Ado,” she rubbed her thumb against his newly healed gem with a soft smile.

Aten huffed. “Just cannot escape the A names, hmmm?” he teased her.

“It’s a nice name,” she protested.

“It is,” he agreed with a snicker. “Ilia and Ado… I like it,” he butted his nose against Ado’s head gently. “The… other one? Did you have a name for him?”

“No… but I do now.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“Usha,” she said.

Aten frowned. “After our father?”

“Yes.”

“Astra— why?” he grimaced.

“Because the irony is sweet,” she said bitterly. Their parents had been proponents of the light, brilliant paladins of the sun. And they had sent them away and they’d ended up far from the sun and only escaped under pain of death.

Aten frowned. “I guess,” he said softly.

“He’s dead anyway, just like our father is to us.”

“Astra—

She gave him a hard look, “What?”

His bright Wind eye searched hers and after a moment he just nodded slowly. “Okay,” he put his head down again. “You have Ado and Ilia now so I guess that’s what matters. I just wish you… weren’t so volatile with your emotions sometimes.”

“Aten, please,” she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“I worry about you. You could just leave-

“And lose all those books?” she demanded. “There are books in Savathün’s library I will find no where else and those books are giving me such… power.” Aten frowned but said nothing. “Power enough that no one will ever think to do this to me again. So no lowly worm would think he can bend me to his will. I cannot lose that now.”

“And Sobek? He said he was done.”

“I will feed it to Azazel slowly until he can’t fight back. Then— then you can rip his throat out,” she smiled at him and he growled approvingly.

[artemismoon12writes]

Title: I said, that’s my Wife!

Daltonfic Big Bang; Week 7, Day 5: Datherine  Five Times Katherine was David’s Wife, and one time he was her husband. 

One.

“That is my wife!” David yelled, grinning from ear to ear as the Terpsichores went up on stage.

“We know. Calm down.” Wes said, yanking David back to his seat. “You don’t have to say it every single time.”

“Yes I do.” David said, his smile not faltering as Katherine gave him a wave from the stage. It wasn’t a dance heavy number they had for Sectionals, but she would be doing most of the more impressive moves while Lucy took the solo.

Some people around them gave David a strange look; which was something he’d prepared himself to get used to. They’d been together since 13, but it was still unusual to hear of a couple getting married so young (at least, without a shotgun wedding involved). He didn’t mind. He’d shout it from the rooftops.

Two.

“Wes, you really should just break up with her once and for all.” Katherine told him, David passed her the phone about a minute back. “I know, I know. You love her. But this is simply getting unhealthy for the two of you.”

David had one hand tucked in Katherine’s, the other pushing the small shopping cart around the local Ohio Kroger. They’d wanted to just pick up something for the party in Windsor later, but now they were sidetracked. Katherine said she’d teach him how to make pancakes so he wouldn’t poison them when they went to college.

“How much flour will we need?” David asked, ducking down to the bottom shelf. “20 pounds?”

Katherine frowned, putting the phone to her shoulder. “I’d say only 5.”

“You know I’m useless with this stuff Kat.” David sighed, compromising with a 10 pound bag. “Kurt can use the excess.”

“That is if you don’t finally get the hang of it. You’ll be in charge of breakfasts in Windsor now.” Katherine said smiling, pecking him on the cheek. “You sell yourself too short Mr. Sullivan.”

“And you’re too kind to me Mrs. Sullivan.” David said, unable to hide his smile.

Katherine started, sighed and putting the phone back to her ear. “Yes, yes, you’re good too Wes. Now, seriously, break up with her for good.”

The cashier they pulled up to gave them an odd look as David packed the items onto the belt. Katherine tapped the belt annoyed with what could only be Wes rambling about Tabitha’s redeeming qualities.

“You need to move on sweetheart.” Katherine said, looking to David. “I can’t. Talk to your boyfriend. He’s not listening to me.”

“I got it.” David said, retaking his role in the conversation which just resulted in him telling Wes he’d handle it when they got back.

The cashier looked like they had whiplash from the one-sided conversation. “Uh, your… she didn’t say if you had a Kroger card.”

David looked over to Katherine who was putting the eggs back into their cart. He’d have to intercept her before she tried to life the flour.

“That’s my wife actually.” He couldn’t say it enough.

The cashier just stared. “Uh, but do you have a Kroger card?”

“Oh, yeah no.”  

Three. “And that’s when I said, dude, that’s the left ventricle!” The upper year college student yelled over the roar of the party. The circle laughed. It wasn’t even that funny.

David had no difficulty hearing him though. You learned to phase through background noise after years in Windsor House. The people around them were hardly anywhere near as wild as Windsor had been after Charlie left and the twins decided every Friday was time for the harder stuff. (David thankfully, had a soccer scholarship to keep him from partaking).

Katherine leant into his side, her cup half full of the punch they’d been using as mixer. She was on a new medication so David’d intercepted the fresh jug before anyone opened it. She was grateful, rewarding him with a quick moment in the bathroom before someone pounded on the door.

“So what’s your story Dave?” The guy asked, downing another cup of cheap beer. “You and Kat meet here or what?”

“Oh no, we met? Oh we were kids.” Katherine said, holding David tighter.

“She’s my wife!” David said, tipsy at most but still excitedly saying it.

“No shit? Hard to do when you’re in college, let alone med school.”

Katherine snorted. “Harder in high school.”

“Huh?”

“God, we got married Junior Year of High School.” David said, Katherine subtly flashing her diamond engagement ring and the woven gold band he’d gotten her as her wedding ring.

“No shit man!” Half the circle seemed shocked, the other looked plain confused.

“So there’s no chance of a threeway then?” Their main conversation partner asked.

Katherine laughed. “Oh honey, you missed that train. Go chase Jocelyn. She’s been eyeing you all night.”

“…you’re a cool gal Katherine.”

Another member of the circle said louder than they might have thought, “Oh so that’s why they have the same last name.”

Four.

Not every elementary school had reunions; but if your parents paid a couple grand in tuition, yeah you had a reunion. It was a couple years into college but here they were. Already doing reunions and nostalgia circuits.

Katherine waved to a few of their friends; Yolanda looked almost the exact same. They teased her that she’d stopped growing in second grade. Between her, Martin, and Carlos, they’d almost all made it to their grade school dream schools.

“I didn’t think you two would still be together.” Martin said. “But like, it’s kind of cool you did.”

“We’d have invited you to the wedding, but it was kind of spur of the moment.” Katherine said, apologetically. “Things got hectic back then.”

“No shit, I saw the news. I’m glad you’re okay man.” Carlos said. “So, wait, you two really got married? I’ve heard of high school sweethearts but you two started dating back when we were in middle school.”

David lifted Katherine’s hand to his lips. “Yeah, I saw her and immediately knew she’d be my wife.”

“David! You’re being impossible.” Katherine said without venom, nudging him with a smile.

“Yes ma’am.” He shrugged at the rest of them. “Missus says I have to behave.”

“Fuck, my expectations of a perfect relationship just went up.” Yolanda groaned, waving a waiter over to grab anther glass of champagne. “I hate you both.”

“It’ll happen ‘Landa. We were just lucky.” Katherine smiled up at her husband. The rest groaned.

Five.

“So if you and your girlfriend break up, you still have to pay the rent for the-”

“My wife.”

“What?”

“She’s my wife.”

“Oh, well whatever you’re still both responsible for the rent.”

One.

The call came in the middle of class. He’d peeked and paled. Ignoring Murdoch’s anger, David ran out of the room to a wake of confusion, shouts, and panic.

By the time he made it to the hospital she was already in surgery. He had to yell just to be allowed in. The nurses barred the way, telling him it was family only. No friends, no boyfriends. They hadn’t processed the paperwork yet; so Katherine’s name was still the stuff they’d had on file for years at The Columbus Children’s Hospital. Just one more week and he wouldn’t have been sitting in the waiting room, sick with worry and seething with how unfair it was.

It felt like weeks. It had really been hours. Wes had dropped by to bring him a warmer coat in the air-conditioned hospital, and dinner, because he’d skipped lunch to get to the hospital before they rolled her in.

Katherine’s mother came in the waiting room; relieved to see him there.

“Sweetie, oh how long have you been waiting there?” Mrs. Rivers asked, her face falling.

“Since noon?”

It was nearly midnight now. The nurses had been trying to shoo him away.

“Oh David.” She scooped him into a hug. “Come on through, you’ll want to see her. She looked scary but they said when she wakes up it will be worlds better than before.”

The nurse guarding the door stood up, irate. She’d been the one who got told at the changing of the guards not to let him by.

“Excuse me, its family only. Not boyfriends, or whatever this is-”

Mrs. Rivers turned her eyes on the nurse. The woman, paled, if it was possible for her to get paler. She seemed to realize she’d crossed a line when Mrs. Rivers pushed David closer to the door, and put her hands on her hips. “Supervisor, now!”

“But I’m just doing my job-”

“This young man is my son in law! He is Katherine’s husband! And you have been keeping him from his wife since noon!” Mrs. Rivers said, stepping forward. “I want your supervisor here now. Or I’m going to call the Chairman of the Board right now and get you fired for this blatant disregard of compassionate care.”

“How can they be married?” The nurse protested, “He’s-”

“You do not want to finish that sentence.” Mrs. Rivers warned. “Even if it was to say they’re too young, you do not want that on the record.”

David paused, his hand on the door to the recovery wing. Mrs. Rivers turned from her stammering target. “David dear, she’s in 223- round the corner to the left. Nadine’s the attending nurse; she remembers you, she’ll let you in.”

David nodded leaving Mrs. Rivers to it. He wanted to feel grateful, but all he could think was he had to get to Katherine.

When he got to 223; seeing her all hooked up to the machines was scary. But he was ehre now. She’d been so brave and now it was his turn.

“I was wondering when her boyfriend- oh it’s husband now isn’t it?” Nurse Nadine said kindly, looking up from where she was writing on Katherine’s chart. “Oh her mother just went out to call you.”

“Yeah. I’m the husband.” David said weakly, looking down at Katherine. The tubes in her arm, down her throat… he knew it was all to help her. He just wished she didn’t need the help.

Nurse Nadine patted his arm, getting a cup of water for him. “It’ll be a while yet, but she’ll be glad to see you. The call button is right here on her bed. Let me know if you two need anything.”

“I will.” David said, putting the water beside him.

Katherine’s breathing was shallow, but it was there. She was there. And he was there for her.

“I love you.” He said to the quiet room. Somehow he knew she heard.

[aion-rsa]

The Teleprompter Interview: Daniel Mays ‘I’d jump at an Ashes to Ashes Return’

https://ift.tt/3dZSoaJ

‘He pops up absolutely everywhere doesn’t he?’ says Daniel Mays about his Code 404 co-star Stephen Graham. You could say the same of Mays. A draw on any cast list, between them in the last year alone they’ve appeared in almost 20 major titles – 1917, Good Omens, White Lines (Mays), The Irishman, The Virtues, Line of Duty, Save Me (Graham) to name just a handful.

Why Mays and Graham are in such high and regular demand is no mystery; they’re two of our best. Mays has an instant affability on screen that he’s able to turn to tragedy or comedy or both at once. Graham’s characters are often the reverse, unknowable and dangerous before he lays their vulnerabilities bare.

In sci-fi comedy Code 404, they play detectives with a tangled personal history. Mays is a DI unexpectedly brought back from the dead via some bug-ridden experimental AI tech. Graham is the trusty partner who’s been keeping his colleague’s wife (Anna Maxwell Martin) company during his absence.

Already renewed for a second run, Mays tells Den of Geek it’s the most binge-watched show on Sky in eight years. “We’re all buzzing about doing another series.” As the first is released on DVD, he talks us through his TV memories…

Which TV show inspired you to start your acting career?

Robbie Coltrane in the Jimmy McGovern drama Cracker. I find his stuff heart-breaking at times but it’s astounding social realist television. Any script written by Jimmy is nuanced and powerful. He’s one of this country’s most amazing writers.

More than anything though, it was Robbie Coltrane’s performance. I remember all the incredible performances, Robert Carlyle as the skinhead with those fantastic interrogation scenes, Christopher Eccleston… but Coltrane as this antihero, a gambler and a womaniser and a drinker, a maverick copper, he was amazing.

That and Prime Suspect.I could go further back, but in terms of when I was really getting serious about becoming an actor, those were the two that were compulsive viewing. I’ve subsequently gone on to work with Jimmy McGovern so it feels like it’s gone full circle.

Which TV character did you want to be when you were younger?

As a kid I was really into The A Team and whassisname, David Hasselhoff! Michael Knight from Knight Rider. As a kid I was obsessed with that show. I had all the action figures. That car was so cool wasn’t it? And when he did the turbo boost and jumped over everything!

In The A Team I probably wanted to be Face, but in reality, if I was to be cast as anyone now it wouldn’t be Face [laughs], it would be Murdoch wouldn’t it?

And which TV character would you like to be now?

When I was working, I didn’t really watch much telly at all but obviously that’s all changed now we’re in lockdown. Before, I hadn’t ever delved into The Sopranos, and I love that character, Tony Soprano. If I could pick one TV character I’d like to have a go at now, that’s the one.

Has any TV programme ever given you nightmares?

Oh man, I’m telling you! There was an ITV adaptation of Jekyll & Hyde with Michael Caine. I’m going back years and years, I must have been about 10 or 11. The make-up that they used in this show when he changed from Dr Jekyll to Mr Hyde, the Hyde make-up was absolutely terrifying, to the point where it really affected me.

I was far too young to watch it and I even had to sleep in between my mum and dad at 10 years old, I was absolutely petrified of that character. Even in preparation for these questions, I went on YouTube and typed it in and there he was again, petrifying, even today!

When did you last laugh out loud watching TV?

The new Alan Partridge when he’s doing the talk show with Susannah Fielding, that particular sketch when he was attempting to use the toilet on the train without using his hands, when he went into that whole routine of opening the door with his knee. Anything with Alan Partridge I find absolutely hysterical.

I’m an absolute sucker for Only Fools and Horses as well. I’m such a die-hard fan of that show and whenever that pops up on UK TV or Gold, if I end up watching five minutes, I have to sit down and watch the whole episode. I’m such a lover of that relationship between David Jason and Nicholas Lyndhurst, I think it’s absolute gold, all of those characters, John Sullivan’s writing, it’s part of my fabric growing up. It’s probably my favourite ever TV show.

Name an iconic TV moment for your generation

The opening ceremony of the London 2012 Olympics was an amazing moment of television isn’t it? It started out in like a farmyard [laughs] and I remember thinking, ‘what have we got going on here? We’ve got the eyes of the world watching us…!’ But it then proceeded to be the most engaging and emotional extravaganza. In terms of Olympics opening ceremonies, nothing comes close to that, even in Beijing when you had that huge number of people. It was so brilliantly British. I don’t know why I ever doubted Danny Boyle. He hit it out of the park.

What was the last TV show you recommended to someone?

I recommended Save Me, the Lennie James show. I watched the second series of that in lockdown and the second series was even better than the first, and I absolutely adored the first series. I thought that was an absolute breath of fresh air, I think it was really amazing that Lennie had written this piece set on a sink estate and yet it felt vibrant and I loved the characters. It was just a wonderful piece of television. They’ve got to do another series. I definitely recommend that.

Read more

TV

Life on Mars Creator Wants to Bring Back Sam Tyler

By Louisa Mellor

TV

Lennie James interview: Save Me, Storm Damage, The Bill

By Louisa Mellor

Starring your Code 404 co-star Stephen Graham

Yes! He pops up absolutely everywhere doesn’t he?

Which TV show does everybody keep nagging you to watch that you haven’t yet seen?

Ozark and Succession. They’re two shows I’m yet to delve into really. They’re two on my list I’ve got to tick off, along with everything else!

Which TV show would you like to bring back from the dead?

There’s all this talk that there’s going to be a final instalment of Life on Mars and Ashes to Ashes, which I keep hearing rumours about. From what I’ve read, it’s more based around what happens to John Simm’s character Sam Tyler. I don’t know if it’s going to be a modern-day thing but I always wanted to see Gene Hunt in the 90s. It’s difficult to make that happen because Ashes to Ashes was sewn up brilliantly. I’m sort of hesitant to say it should come back but Gene Hunt is such an iconic character and Phil Glenister was so incredible in that role.

I’ve always gone on record and said that Jim Keats – the character I played, the devil – was one of the most enjoyable things I’ve ever done so if there’s an opportunity to play that role again, I’d jump at that. Is it egotistical of me to pick a show that I’ve been in myself?!

Which show do you wish more people would watch? If you were forced to pick another one of yours?

I did a single drama on BBC Two called Mother’s Day about the Warrington bombing. That’s a really important moment in history and it’s such a heart-felt drama. If anyone’s not seen it, that would be something I would recommend to people to watch. It’s not for the faint-hearted.

Have you ever done fancy dress as a TV character?

[Laughs] I went to an EastEnders fancy dress party dressed up as Frank Butcher! My then-girlfriend went as Pat so we were Pat and Frank. Then when I got there, there was another guy dressed up as Frank Butcher but he was gangster-Frank so he had all the bling on. We had a bit of a Frank Butcher-off.

Tell me you were the Frank Butcher with the spinning bow-tie?!

[Laughs] I didn’t go that far! Actually, scrap the Olympics opening ceremony, do the Frank Butcher bow-tie as the most iconic moment of my generation [laughs].

Which TV theme song do you know all the words to?

I know all the words to Friends and I have to say, Only Fools and Horses again, whenever that comes on I always end up singing all over it.

Which TV character would you like to beat in a fight?

What’s the TV show that The Rock does? It’s set in LA, Russell Brand’s been in it as well. I wouldn’t mind beating up the Rock, because my wife loves a bit of the Rock! So I could beat him up in a TV drama. Who wouldn’t want to beat The Rock up?!

What is the most fun you’ve had making television?

White Lines for Netflix, without a shadow of a doubt. That’s a complete no-brainer. The locations, the character I was playing, the actors I was working with and the scripts were just absolutely brilliant and bonkers. Fingers crossed we get a second series.

If you get a second series, your character Marcus has quite a different role set out for him, doesn’t he?

Yeah! He’s going to become the drug baron of the Calafat family. It’s all to play for isn’t it, especially for Marcus, the whole thing’s been left wide open for him to get into all sorts of mishaps and scrapes.

That character was probably the most enjoyable character I’ve played, him and Jim Keats. I just had such a ball, he was so funny and he had this sort of tragedy to him as well. He’s just so hapless. The thought of Marcus in Colombia or Bolivia or wherever just makes me howl even thinking about it.

And when else do you get to give mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to a dog?

That’s true! I forgot I did that scene. That’s mad isn’t it. Though I actually only punched the dog’s chest. At one point I did say ‘Shall I give the dog actual mouth-to-mouth?’ and the director Nick Hamm said ‘I think that’s too much Danny, even for this show.’

Code 404 is out on DVD & digital 6 July.

The post The Teleprompter Interview: Daniel Mays ‘I’d jump at an Ashes to Ashes Return’ appeared first on Den of Geek.

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Pop Picks – February 3, 2020

What I’m listening to: 

Spending 21 hours on airplanes (Singapore to Tokyo to Boston) provides lots of time for listening and in an airport shop I picked up a Rolling Stones magazine that listed the top ten albums of the last ten years. I’ve been systematically working through them, starting with Kanye West’s My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. I just don’t know enough about hip hop and rap to offer any intelligent analysis of the music, and I have always thought of Kanye as kind of crazy (that may still be true), but the music is layered and extravagant and genre-bending. The lyrics seem fascinating and self-reflective, especially around fame and excess and Kanye’s specialty, self-promoting aggrandizement. Too many people I know remain stuck in the music of their youth and while I love those songs too, it feels important to listen to today’s music and what it has to tell us about life and lives far different than our own. And in a case like Twisted Fantasy, it’s just great music and that’s its own justification.

What I’m reading: 

I went back to an old favorite, Richard Russo’s Straight Man. If you work in academia, this is a must-read and while written 22 years ago, it still rings true and current. The “hero” of the novel is William Henry Devereaux Jr., the chair of the English Department in a second-tier public university in small-town Pennsylvania. The book is laugh aloud funny (the opening chapter and story about old Red puts me in hysterics every time I read it) and like the best comedy, it taps into the complexity and pains of life in very substantial ways. Devereaux is insufferable in most ways and yet we root for him, mostly because A) he is so damn funny and B) is self-deprecating. But there is also a big heartedness in Russo’s writing and a recognition that everyone is the protagonist of their own story, and life’s essential dramas play out fully in the most modest of places and for the most ordinary of people. 

What I’m watching:

I can’t pretend to have an abiding interest in cheerleading, but I devoured the six-episode Netflix series Cheer, about the cheerleading squad at Navarro College, a small two-year college in rural Texas that is a cheerleading powerhouse, winning the National Championship 14 times under the direction of Coach Monica Aldama, the Bill Belichick of cheering. I have a new respect and admiration for the athleticism and demands of cheering (and wonder about the cavalier handling of injuries), but the series is about so much more. It’s about team, about love, about grit and perseverance, bravery, trust, about kids and growing up and loss, and…well, it’s about almost everything and it will make you laugh and cry and exult. It is just terrific.

Archive 

January 2, 2020

What I’m listening to: 

I was never really an Amy Winehouse fan and I don’t listen to much jazz or blue-eyed soul. Recently, eight years after she died at only 27, I heard her single Tears Dry On Their Own and I was hooked (the song was on someone’s “ten things I’d want on a deserted island” list). Since then, I’ve been playing her almost every day. I started the documentary about her, Amy, and stopped. I didn’t much like her. Or, more accurately, I didn’t much like the signals of her own eventual destruction that were evident early on. I think it was D. H. Lawrence that once said “Trust the art, not the artist.” Sometimes it is better not to know too much and just relish the sheer artistry of the work. Winehouse’s Back to Black, which was named one of the best albums of 2007, is as fresh and painful and amazing 13 years later.

What I’m reading: 

Alan Bennett’s lovely novella An Uncommon Reader is a what-if tale, wondering what it would mean if Queen Elizabeth II suddenly became a reader. Because of a lucked upon book mobile on palace grounds, she becomes just that, much to the consternation of her staff and with all kinds of delicious consequences, including curiosity, imagination, self-awareness, and growing disregard for pomp. With an ill-framed suggestion, reading becomes writing and provides a surprise ending. For all of us who love books, this is a finely wrought and delightful love poem to the power of books for readers and writers alike. Imagine if all our leaders were readers (sigh).

What I’m watching:

I’m a huge fan of many things – The National, Boston sports teams, BMW motorcycles, Pho – but there is a stage of life, typically adolescence, when fandom changes the universe, provides a lens to finally understand the world and, more importantly, yourself, in profound ways. My wife Pat would say Joni Mitchell did that for her. Gurinder Chadha’s wonderful film Blinded By The Light captures the power of discovery when Javed, the son of struggling Pakistani immigrants in a dead end place during a dead end time (the Thatcher period, from which Britain has never recovered: see Brexit), hears Springsteen and is forever changed. The movie, sometimes musical, sometimes comedy, and often bubbling with energy, has more heft than it might seem at first. There is pain in a father struggling to retain his dignity while he fails to provide, the father and son tension in so many immigrant families (I lived some of that), and what it means to be an outsider in the only culture you actually have ever known. 

November 25, 2019

My pop picks are usually a combination of three things: what I am listening to, reading, and watching. But last week I happily combined all three. That is, I went to NYC last week and saw two shows. The first was Cyrano, starring Game of Thrones superstar Peter Dinklage in the title role, with Jasmine Cephas Jones as Roxanne. She was Peggy in the original Hamilton cast and has an amazing voice. The music was written by Aaron and Bryce Dessner, two members of my favorite band, The National, with lyrics by lead singer Matt Berninger and his wife Carin Besser. Erica Schmidt, Dinklage’s wife, directs. Edmond Rostand’s 1897 play is light, dated, and melodramatic, but this production was delightful. Dinklage owns the stage, a master, and his deep bass voice, not all that great for singing, but commanding in the delivery of every line, was somehow a plaintive and resonant counterpoint to Cephas Jones’ soaring voice. In the original Cyrano, the title character’s large nose marks him as outsider and ”other,” but Dinklage was born with achondroplasia, the cause of his dwarfism, and there is a kind of resonance in his performance that feels like pain not acted, but known. Deeply. It takes this rather lightweight play and gives it depth. Even if it didn’t, not everything has to be deep and profound – there is joy in seeing something executed so darn well. Cyrano was delightfully satisfying.

The other show was the much lauded Aaron Sorkin rendition of To Kill a Mockingbird, starring another actor at the very top of his game, Ed Harris. This is a Mockingbird for our times, one in which iconic Atticus Finch’s idealistic “you have to live in someone else’s skin” feels naive in the face of hateful racism and anti-Semitism. The Black characters in the play get more voice, if not agency, in the stage play than they do in the book, especially housekeeper Calpurnia, who voices incredulity at Finch’s faith in his neighbors and reminds us that he does not pay the price of his patience. She does. And Tom Robinson, the Black man falsely accused of rape – “convicted at the moment he was accused,” Whatever West Wing was for Sorkin – and I dearly loved that show – this is a play for a broken United States, where racism abounds and does so with sanction by those in power. As our daughter said, “I think Trump broke Aaron Sorkin.” It was as powerful a thing I’ve seen on stage in years.  

With both plays, I was reminded of the magic that is live theater. 

October 31, 2019

What I’m listening to: 

It drove his critics crazy that Obama was the coolest president we ever had and his summer 2019 playlist on Spotify simply confirms that reality. It has been on repeat for me. From Drake to Lizzo (God I love her) to Steely Dan to Raphael Saadiq to Sinatra (who I skip every time – I’m not buying the nostalgia), his carefully curated list reflects not only his infinite coolness, but the breadth of his interests and generosity of taste. I love the music, but I love even more the image of Michelle and him rocking out somewhere far from Washington’s madness, as much as I miss them both.

What I’m reading: 

I struggled with Christy Lefteri’s The Beekeeper of Aleppo for the first 50 pages, worried that she’d drag out every tired trope of Mid-Eastern society, but I fell for her main characters and their journey as refugees from Syria to England. Parts of this book were hard to read and very dark, because that is the plight of so many refugees and she doesn’t shy away from those realities and the enormous toll they take on displaced people. It’s a hard read, but there is light too – in resilience, in love, in friendships, the small tender gestures of people tossed together in a heartless world. Lefteri volunteered in Greek refugee programs, spent a lot of interviewing people, and the book feels true, and importantly, heartfelt.

What I’m watching:

Soap opera meets Shakespeare, deliciously malevolent and operatic, Succession has been our favorite series this season. Loosely based on the Murdochs and their media empire (don’t believe the denials), this was our must watch television on Sunday nights, filling the void left by Game of Thrones. The acting is over-the-top good, the frequent comedy dark, the writing brilliant, and the music superb. We found ourselves quoting lines after every episode. Like the hilarious; “You don’t hear much about syphilis these days. Very much the Myspace of STDs.” Watch it so we can talk about that season 2 finale.

August 30, 2019

What I’m listening to: 

I usually go to music here, but the New York Times new 1619 podcast is just terrific, as is the whole project, which observes the sale of the first enslaved human beings on our shores 400 years ago. The first episode, “The Fight for a True Democracy” is a remarkable overview (in a mere 44 minutes) of the centrality of racism and slavery in the American story over those 400 years. It should be mandatory listening in every high school in the country. I’m eager for the next episodes. Side note: I am addicted to The Daily podcast, which gives more color and detail to the NY Times stories I read in print (yes, print), and reminds me of how smart and thoughtful are those journalists who give us real news. We need them now more than ever.

What I’m reading: 

Colson Whitehead has done it again. The Nickel Boys, his new novel, is a worthy successor to his masterpiece The Underground Railroad, and because it is closer to our time, based on the real-life horrors of a Florida reform school, and written a time of resurgent White Supremacy, it hits even harder and with more urgency than its predecessor. Maybe because we can read Underground Railroad with a sense of “that was history,” but one can’t read Nickel Boys without the lurking feeling that such horrors persist today and the monsters that perpetrate such horrors walk among us. They often hold press conferences.

What I’m watching:

Queer Eye, the Netflix remake of the original Queer Eye for the Straight Guy some ten years later, is wondrously entertaining, but it also feels adroitly aligned with our dysfunctional times. Episode three has a conversation with Karamo Brown, one of the fab five, and a Georgia small town cop (and Trump supporter) that feels unscripted and unexpected and reminds us of how little actual conversation seems to be taking place in our divided country. Oh, for more car rides such as the one they take in that moment, when a chasm is bridged, if only for a few minutes. Set in the South, it is often a refreshing and affirming response to what it means to be male at a time of toxic masculinity and the overdue catharsis and pain of the #MeToo movement. Did I mention? It’s really fun.

July 1, 2019

What I’m listening to: 

The National remains my favorite band and probably 50% of my listening time is a National album or playlist. Their new album I Am Easy To Find feels like a turning point record for the band, going from the moody, outsider introspection and doubt of lead singer Matt Berninger to something that feels more adult, sophisticated, and wiser. I might have titled it Women Help The Band Grow Up. Matt is no longer the center of The National’s universe and he frequently cedes the mic to the many women who accompany and often lead on the long, their longest, album. They include Gail Ann Dorsey (who sang with Bowie for a long time), who is amazing, and a number of the songs were written by Carin Besser, Berninger’s wife. I especially love the Brooklyn Youth Chorus, the arrangements, and the sheer complexity and coherence of the work. It still amazes me when I meet someone who does not know The National. My heart breaks for them just a little.

What I’m reading: 

Pat Barker’s The Silence of the Girls is a retelling of Homer’s Iliad through the lens of a captive Trojan queen, Briseis. As a reviewer in The Atlantic writes, it answers the question “What does war mean to women?” We know the answer and it has always been true, whether it is the casual and assumed rape of captive women in this ancient war story or the use of rape in modern day Congo, Syria, or any other conflict zone. Yet literature almost never gives voice to the women – almost always minor characters at best — and their unspeakable suffering. Barker does it here for Briseis, for Hector’s wife Andromache, and for the other women who understand that the death of their men is tragedy, but what they then endure is worse. Think of it ancient literature having its own #MeToo moment. The NY Times’ Geraldine Brooks did not much like the novel. I did. Very much.

What I’m watching: 

The BBC-HBO limited series Years and Years is breathtaking, scary, and absolutely familiar. It’s as if Black Mirrorand Children of Men had a baby and it precisely captures the zeitgeist, the current sense that the world is spinning out of control and things are coming at us too fast. It is a near future (Trump has been re-elected and Brexit has occurred finally)…not dystopia exactly, but damn close. The closing scene of last week’s first episode (there are 6 episodes and it’s on every Monday) shows nuclear war breaking out between China and the U.S. Yikes! The scope of this show is wide and there is a big, baggy feel to it – but I love the ambition even if I’m not looking forward to the nightmares.

May 19, 2019

What I’m listening to: 

I usually go to music here, but I was really moved by this podcast of a Davis Brooks talk at the Commonwealth Club in Silicon Valley: https://www.commonwealthclub.org/events/archive/podcast/david-brooks-quest-moral-life.  While I have long found myself distant from his political stance, he has come through a dark night of the soul and emerged with a wonderful clarity about calling, community, and not happiness (that most superficial of goals), but fulfillment and meaning, found in community and human kinship of many kinds. I immediately sent it to my kids.

What I’m reading: 

Susan Orlean’s wonderful The Library Book, a love song to libraries told through the story of the LA Central Library.  It brought back cherished memories of my many hours in beloved libraries — as a kid in the Waltham Public Library, a high schooler in the Farber Library at Brandeis (Lil Farber years later became a mentor of mine), and the cathedral-like Bapst Library at BC when I was a graduate student. Yes, I was a nerd. This is a love song to books certainly, but a reminder that libraries are so, so much more.  It is a reminder that libraries are less about a place or being a repository of information and, like America at its best, an idea and ideal. By the way, oh to write like her.

What I’m watching: 

What else? Game of Thrones, like any sensible human being. This last season is disappointing in many ways and the drop off in the writing post George R.R. Martin is as clear as was the drop off in the post-Sorkin West Wing. I would be willing to bet that if Martin has been writing the last season, Sansa and Tyrion would have committed suicide in the crypt. That said, we fans are deeply invested and even the flaws are giving us so much to discuss and debate. In that sense, the real gift of this last season is the enjoyment between episodes, like the old pre-streaming days when we all arrived at work after the latest episode of the Sopranos to discuss what we had all seen the night before. I will say this, the last two episodes — full of battle and gore – have been visually stunning. Whether the torches of the Dothraki being extinguished in the distance or Arya riding through rubble and flame on a white horse, rarely has the series ascended to such visual grandeur.

March 28, 2019

What I’m listening to: 

There is a lovely piece played in a scene from A Place Called Home that I tracked down. It’s Erik Satie’s 3 Gymnopédies: Gymnopédie No. 1, played by the wonderful pianist Klára Körmendi. Satie composed this piece in 1888 and it was considered avant-garde and anti-Romantic. It’s minimalism and bit of dissonance sound fresh and contemporary to my ears and while not a huge Classical music fan, I’ve fallen in love with the Körmendi playlist on Spotify. When you need an alternative to hours of Cardi B.

What I’m reading: 

Just finished Esi Edugyan’s 2018 novel Washington Black. Starting on a slave plantation in Barbados, it is a picaresque novel that has elements of Jules Verne, Moby Dick, Frankenstein, and Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad. Yes, it strains credulity and there are moments of “huh?”, but I loved it (disclosure: I was in the minority among my fellow book club members) and the first third is a searing depiction of slavery. It’s audacious, sprawling (from Barbados to the Arctic to London to Africa), and the writing, especially about nature, luminous. 

What I’m watching: 

A soap opera. Yes, I’d like to pretend it’s something else, but we are 31 episodes into the Australian drama A Place Called Home and we are so, so addicted. Like “It’s  AM, but can’t we watch just one more episode?” addicted. Despite all the secrets, cliff hangers, intrigue, and “did that just happen?” moments, the core ingredients of any good soap opera, APCH has superb acting, real heft in terms of subject matter (including homophobia, anti-Semitism, sexual assault, and class), touches of our beloved Downton Abbey, and great cars. Beware. If you start, you won’t stop.

February 11, 2019

What I’m listening to:

Raphael Saadiq has been around for quite a while, as a musician, writer, and producer. He’s new to me and I love his old school R&B sound. Like Leon Bridges, he brings a contemporary freshness to the genre, sounding like a young Stevie Wonder (listen to “You’re The One That I Like”). Rock and Roll may be largely dead, but R&B persists – maybe because the former was derivative of the latter and never as good (and I say that as a Rock and Roll fan). I’m embarrassed to only have discovered Saadiq so late in his career, but it’s a delight to have done so.

What I’m reading:

Just finished Marilynne Robinson’s Home, part of her trilogy that includes the Pulitzer Prize winning first novel, Gilead, and the book after Home, Lila. Robinson is often described as a Christian writer, but not in a conventional sense. In this case, she gives us a modern version of the prodigal son and tells the story of what comes after he is welcomed back home. It’s not pretty. Robinson is a self-described Calvinist, thus character begets fate in Robinson’s world view and redemption is at best a question. There is something of Faulkner in her work (I am much taken with his famous “The past is never past” quote after a week in the deep South), her style is masterful, and like Faulkner, she builds with these three novels a whole universe in the small town of Gilead. Start with Gilead to better enjoy Home.

What I’m watching:

Sex Education was the most fun series we’ve seen in ages and we binged watched it on Netflix. A British homage to John Hughes films like The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and Pretty in Pink, it feels like a mash up of American and British high schools. Focusing on the relationship of Maeve, the smart bad girl, and Otis, the virginal and awkward son of a sex therapist (played with brilliance by Gillian Anderson), it is laugh aloud funny and also evolves into more substance and depth (the abortion episode is genius). The sex scenes are somehow raunchy and charming and inoffensive at the same time and while ostensibly about teenagers (it feels like it is explaining contemporary teens to adults in many ways), the adults are compelling in their good and bad ways. It has been renewed for a second season, which is a gift.

January 3, 2019

What I’m listening to:

My listening choices usually refer to music, but this time I’m going with Malcolm Gladwell’s Revisionist History podcast on genius and the song Hallelujah. It tells the story of Leonard Cohen’s much-covered song Hallelujah and uses it as a lens on kinds of genius and creativity. Along the way, he brings in Picasso and Cézanne, Elvis Costello, and more. Gladwell is a good storyteller and if you love pop music, as I do, and Hallelujah, as I do (and you should), you’ll enjoy this podcast. We tend to celebrate the genius who seems inspired in the moment, creating new work like lightning strikes, but this podcast has me appreciating incremental creativity in a new way. It’s compelling and fun at the same time.

What I’m reading:

Just read Clay Christensen’s new book, The Prosperity Paradox: How Innovation Can Lift Nations Out of Poverty. This was an advance copy, so soon available. Clay is an old friend and a huge influence on how we have grown SNHU and our approach to innovation. This book is so compelling, because we know attempts at development have so often been a failure and it is often puzzling to understand why some countries with desperate poverty and huge challenges somehow come to thrive (think S. Korea, Singapore, 19th C. America), while others languish. Clay offers a fresh way of thinking about development through the lens of his research on innovation and it is compelling. I bet this book gets a lot of attention, as most of his work does. I also suspect that many in the development community will hate it, as it calls into question the approach and enormous investments we have made in an attempt to lift countries out of poverty. A provocative read and, as always, Clay is a good storyteller.

What I’m watching:

Just watched Leave No Trace and should have guessed that it was directed by Debra Granik. She did Winter’s Bone, the extraordinary movie that launched Jennifer Lawrence’s career. Similarly, this movie features an amazing young actor, Thomasin McKenzie, and visits lives lived on the margins. In this case, a veteran suffering PTSD, and his 13-year-old daughter. The movie is patient, is visually lush, and justly earned 100% on Rotten Tomatoes (I have a rule to never watch anything under 82%). Everything in this film is under control and beautifully understated (aside from the visuals) – confident acting, confident directing, and so humane. I love the lack of flashbacks, the lack of sensationalism – the movie trusts the viewer, rare in this age of bombast. A lovely film.

December 4, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Spending a week in New Zealand, we had endless laughs listening to the Kiwi band, Flight of the Conchords. Lots of comedic bands are funny, but the music is only okay or worse. These guys are funny – hysterical really – and the music is great. They have an uncanny ability to parody almost any style. In both New Zealand and Australia, we found a wry sense of humor that was just delightful and no better captured than with this duo. You don’t have to be in New Zealand to enjoy them.

What I’m reading:

I don’t often reread. For two reasons: A) I have so many books on my “still to be read” pile that it seems daunting to also rereadbooks I loved before, and B) it’s because I loved them once that I’m a little afraid to read them again. That said, I was recently asked to list my favorite book of all time and I answered Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina. But I don’t really know if that’s still true (and it’s an impossible question anyway – favorite book? On what day? In what mood?), so I’m rereading it and it feels like being with an old friend. It has one of my very favorite scenes ever: the card game between Levin and Kitty that leads to the proposal and his joyous walking the streets all night.

What I’m watching:

Blindspotting is billed as a buddy-comedy. Wow does that undersell it and the drama is often gripping. I loved Daveed Diggs in Hamilton, didn’t like his character in Black-ish, and think he is transcendent in this film he co-wrote with Rafael Casal, his co-star.  The film is a love song to Oakland in many ways, but also a gut-wrenching indictment of police brutality, systemic racism and bias, and gentrification. The film has the freshness and raw visceral impact of Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing. A great soundtrack, genre mixing, and energy make it one of my favorite movies of 2018.

October 15, 2018 

What I’m listening to:

We had the opportunity to see our favorite band, The National, live in Dallas two weeks ago. Just after watching Mistaken for Strangers, the documentary sort of about the band. So we’ve spent a lot of time going back into their earlier work, listening to songs we don’t know well, and reaffirming that their musicality, smarts, and sound are both original and astoundingly good. They did not disappoint in concert and it is a good thing their tour ended, as we might just spend all of our time and money following them around. Matt Berninger is a genius and his lead vocals kill me (and because they are in my range, I can actually sing along!). Their arrangements are profoundly good and go right to whatever brain/heart wiring that pulls one in and doesn’t let them go.

What I’m reading:

Who is Richard Powers and why have I only discovered him now, with his 12th book? Overstory is profoundly good, a book that is essential and powerful and makes me look at my everyday world in new ways. In short, a dizzying example of how powerful can be narrative in the hands of a master storyteller. I hesitate to say it’s the best environmental novel I’ve ever read (it is), because that would put this book in a category. It is surely about the natural world, but it is as much about we humans. It’s monumental and elegiac and wondrous at all once. Cancel your day’s schedule and read it now. Then plant a tree. A lot of them.

What I’m watching:

Bo Burnham wrote and directed Eighth Grade and Elsie Fisher is nothing less than amazing as its star (what’s with these new child actors; see Florida Project). It’s funny and painful and touching. It’s also the single best film treatment that I have seen of what it means to grow up in a social media shaped world. It’s a reminder that growing up is hard. Maybe harder now in a world of relentless, layered digital pressure to curate perfect lives that are far removed from the natural messy worlds and selves we actually inhabit. It’s a well-deserved 98% on Rotten Tomatoes and I wonder who dinged it for the missing 2%.

September 7, 2018

What I’m listening to:

With a cover pointing back to the Beastie Boys’ 1986 Licensed to Ill, Eminem’s quietly released Kamikaze is not my usual taste, but I’ve always admired him for his “all out there” willingness to be personal, to call people out, and his sheer genius with language. I thought Daveed Diggs could rap fast, but Eminem is supersonic at moments, and still finds room for melody. Love that he includes Joyner Lucas, whose “I’m Not Racist” gets added to the growing list of simply amazing music videos commenting on race in America. There are endless reasons why I am the least likely Eminem fan, but when no one is around to make fun of me, I’ll put it on again.

What I’m reading:

Lesley Blume’s Everyone Behaves Badly, which is the story behind Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises and his time in 1920s Paris (oh, what a time – see Midnight in Paris if you haven’t already). Of course, Blume disabuses my romantic ideas of that time and place and everyone is sort of (or profoundly so) a jerk, especially…no spoiler here…Hemingway. That said, it is a compelling read and coming off the Henry James inspired prose of Mrs. Osmond, it made me appreciate more how groundbreaking was Hemingway’s modern prose style. Like his contemporary Picasso, he reinvented the art and it can be easy to forget, these decades later, how profound was the change and its impact. And it has bullfights.

What I’m watching:

Chloé Zhao’s The Rider is just exceptional. It’s filmed on the Pine Ridge Reservation, which provides a stunning landscape, and it feels like a classic western reinvented for our times. The main characters are played by the real-life people who inspired this narrative (but feels like a documentary) film. Brady Jandreau, playing himself really, owns the screen. It’s about manhood, honor codes, loss, and resilience – rendered in sensitive, nuanced, and heartfelt ways. It feels like it could be about large swaths of America today. Really powerful.

August 16, 2018

What I’m listening to:

In my Spotify Daily Mix was Percy Sledge’s When A Man Loves A Woman, one of the world’s greatest love songs. Go online and read the story of how the song was discovered and recorded. There are competing accounts, but Sledge said he improvised it after a bad breakup. It has that kind of aching spontaneity. It is another hit from Muscle Shoals, Alabama, one of the GREAT music hotbeds, along with Detroit, Nashville, and Memphis. Our February Board meeting is in Alabama and I may finally have to do the pilgrimage road trip to Muscle Shoals and then Memphis, dropping in for Sunday services at the church where Rev. Al Green still preaches and sings. If the music is all like this, I will be saved.

What I’m reading:

John Banville’s Mrs. Osmond, his homage to literary idol Henry James and an imagined sequel to James’ 1881 masterpiece Portrait of a Lady. Go online and read the first paragraph of Chapter 25. He is…profoundly good. Makes me want to never write again, since anything I attempt will feel like some other, lowly activity in comparison to his mastery of language, image, syntax. This is slow reading, every sentence to be savored.

What I’m watching:

I’ve always respected Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, but we just watched the documentary RGB. It is over-the-top great and she is now one of my heroes. A superwoman in many ways and the documentary is really well done. There are lots of scenes of her speaking to crowds and the way young women, especially law students, look at her is touching.  And you can’t help but fall in love with her now late husband Marty. See this movie and be reminded of how important is the Law.

July 23, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Spotify’s Summer Acoustic playlist has been on repeat quite a lot. What a fun way to listen to artists new to me, including The Paper Kites, Hollow Coves, and Fleet Foxes, as well as old favorites like Leon Bridges and Jose Gonzalez. Pretty chill when dialing back to a summer pace, dining on the screen porch or reading a book.

What I’m reading:

Bryan Stevenson’s Just Mercy. Founder of the Equal Justice Initiative, Stevenson tells of the racial injustice (and the war on the poor our judicial system perpetuates as well) that he discovered as a young graduate from Harvard Law School and his fight to address it. It is in turn heartbreaking, enraging, and inspiring. It is also about mercy and empathy and justice that reads like a novel. Brilliant.

What I’m watching:

Fauda. We watched season one of this Israeli thriller. It was much discussed in Israel because while it focuses on an ex-special agent who comes out of retirement to track down a Palestinian terrorist, it was willing to reveal the complexity, richness, and emotions of Palestinian lives. And the occasional brutality of the Israelis. Pretty controversial stuff in Israel. Lior Raz plays Doron, the main character, and is compelling and tough and often hard to like. He’s a mess. As is the world in which he has to operate. We really liked it, and also felt guilty because while it may have been brave in its treatment of Palestinians within the Israeli context, it falls back into some tired tropes and ultimately falls short on this front.

June 11, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Like everyone else, I’m listening to Pusha T drop the mic on Drake. Okay, not really, but do I get some points for even knowing that? We all walk around with songs that immediately bring us back to a time or a place. Songs are time machines. We are coming up on Father’s Day. My own dad passed away on Father’s Day back in 1994 and I remembering dutifully getting through the wake and funeral and being strong throughout. Then, sitting alone in our kitchen, Don Henley’s The End of the Innocence came on and I lost it. When you lose a parent for the first time (most of us have two after all) we lose our innocence and in that passage, we suddenly feel adult in a new way (no matter how old we are), a longing for our own childhood, and a need to forgive and be forgiven. Listen to the lyrics and you’ll understand. As Wordsworth reminds us in In Memoriam, there are seasons to our grief and, all these years later, this song no longer hits me in the gut, but does transport me back with loving memories of my father. I’ll play it Father’s Day.

What I’m reading:

The Fifth Season, by N. K. Jemisin. I am not a reader of fantasy or sci-fi, though I understand they can be powerful vehicles for addressing the very real challenges of the world in which we actually live. I’m not sure I know of a more vivid and gripping illustration of that fact than N. K. Jemisin’s Hugo Award winning novel The Fifth Season, first in her Broken Earth trilogy. It is astounding. It is the fantasy parallel to The Underground Railroad, my favorite recent read, a depiction of subjugation, power, casual violence, and a broken world in which our hero(s) struggle, suffer mightily, and still, somehow, give us hope. It is a tour de force book. How can someone be this good a writer? The first 30 pages pained me (always with this genre, one must learn a new, constructed world, and all of its operating physics and systems of order), and then I could not put it down. I panicked as I neared the end, not wanting to finish the book, and quickly ordered the Obelisk Gate, the second novel in the trilogy, and I can tell you now that I’ll be spending some goodly portion of my weekend in Jemisin’s other world.

What I’m watching:

The NBA Finals and perhaps the best basketball player of this generation. I’ve come to deeply respect LeBron James as a person, a force for social good, and now as an extraordinary player at the peak of his powers. His superhuman play during the NBA playoffs now ranks with the all-time greats, Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, MJ, Kobe, and the demi-god that was Bill Russell. That his Cavs lost in a 4-game sweep is no surprise. It was a mediocre team being carried on the wide shoulders of James (and matched against one of the greatest teams ever, the Warriors, and the Harry Potter of basketball, Steph Curry) and, in some strange way, his greatness is amplified by the contrast with the rest of his team. It was a great run.

May 24, 2018

What I’m listening to:

I’ve always liked Alicia Keys and admired her social activism, but I am hooked on her last album Here. This feels like an album finally commensurate with her anger, activism, hope, and grit. More R&B and Hip Hop than is typical for her, I think this album moves into an echelon inhabited by a Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On or Beyonce’s Formation. Social activism and outrage rarely make great novels, but they often fuel great popular music. Here is a terrific example.

What I’m reading:

Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad may be close to a flawless novel. Winner of the 2017 Pulitzer, it chronicles the lives of two runaway slaves, Cora and Caeser, as they try to escape the hell of plantation life in Georgia.  It is an often searing novel and Cora is one of the great heroes of American literature. I would make this mandatory reading in every high school in America, especially in light of the absurd revisionist narratives of “happy and well cared for” slaves. This is a genuinely great novel, one of the best I’ve read, the magical realism and conflating of time periods lifts it to another realm of social commentary, relevance, and a blazing indictment of America’s Original Sin, for which we remain unabsolved.

What I’m watching:

I thought I knew about The Pentagon Papers, but The Post, a real-life political thriller from Steven Spielberg taught me a lot, features some of our greatest actors, and is so timely given the assault on our democratic institutions and with a presidency out of control. It is a reminder that a free and fearless press is a powerful part of our democracy, always among the first targets of despots everywhere. The story revolves around the legendary Post owner and D.C. doyenne, Katharine Graham. I had the opportunity to see her son, Don Graham, right after he saw the film, and he raved about Meryl Streep’s portrayal of his mother. Liked it a lot more than I expected.

April 27, 2018

What I’m listening to:

I mentioned John Prine in a recent post and then on the heels of that mention, he has released a new album, The Tree of Forgiveness, his first new album in ten years. Prine is beloved by other singer songwriters and often praised by the inscrutable God that is Bob Dylan.  Indeed, Prine was frequently said to be the “next Bob Dylan” in the early part of his career, though he instead carved out his own respectable career and voice, if never with the dizzying success of Dylan. The new album reflects a man in his 70s, a cancer survivor, who reflects on life and its end, but with the good humor and empathy that are hallmarks of Prine’s music. “When I Get To Heaven” is a rollicking, fun vision of what comes next and a pure delight. A charming, warm, and often terrific album.

What I’m reading:

I recently read Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko, on many people’s Top Ten lists for last year and for good reason. It is sprawling, multi-generational, and based in the world of Japanese occupied Korea and then in the Korean immigrant’s world of Oaska, so our key characters become “tweeners,” accepted in neither world. It’s often unspeakably sad, and yet there is resiliency and love. There is also intimacy, despite the time and geographic span of the novel. It’s breathtakingly good and like all good novels, transporting.

What I’m watching:

I adore Guillermo del Toro’s 2006 film, Pan’s Labyrinth, and while I’m not sure his Shape of Water is better, it is a worthy follow up to the earlier masterpiece (and more of a commercial success). Lots of critics dislike the film, but I’m okay with a simple retelling of a Beauty and the Beast love story, as predictable as it might be. The acting is terrific, it is visually stunning, and there are layers of pain as well as social and political commentary (the setting is the US during the Cold War) and, no real spoiler here, the real monsters are humans, the military officer who sees over the captured aquatic creature. It is hauntingly beautiful and its depiction of hatred to those who are different or “other” is painfully resonant with the time in which we live. Put this on your “must see” list.

March 18, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Sitting on a plane for hours (and many more to go; geez, Australia is far away) is a great opportunity to listen to new music and to revisit old favorites. This time, it is Lucy Dacus and her album Historians, the new sophomore release from a 22-year old indie artist that writes with relatable, real-life lyrics. Just on a second listen and while she insists this isn’t a break up record (as we know, 50% of all great songs are break up songs), it is full of loss and pain. Worth the listen so far. For the way back machine, it’s John Prine and In Spite of Ourselves (that title track is one of the great love songs of all time), a collection of duets with some of his “favorite girl singers” as he once described them. I have a crush on Iris Dement (for a really righteously angry song try her Wasteland of the Free), but there is also EmmyLou Harris, the incomparable Dolores Keane, and Lucinda Williams. Very different albums, both wonderful.

What I’m reading:

Jane Mayer’s New Yorker piece on Christopher Steele presents little that is new, but she pulls it together in a terrific and coherent whole that is illuminating and troubling at the same time. Not only for what is happening, but for the complicity of the far right in trying to discredit that which should be setting off alarm bells everywhere. Bob Mueller may be the most important defender of the democracy at this time. A must read.

What I’m watching:

Homeland is killing it this season and is prescient, hauntingly so. Russian election interference, a Bannon-style hate radio demagogue, alienated and gun toting militia types, and a president out of control. It’s fabulous, even if it feels awfully close to the evening news. 

March 8, 2018

What I’m listening to:

We have a family challenge to compile our Top 100 songs. It is painful. Only 100? No more than three songs by one artist? Wait, why is M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes” on my list? Should it just be The Clash from whom she samples? Can I admit to guilty pleasure songs? Hey, it’s my list and I can put anything I want on it. So I’m listening to the list while I work and the song playing right now is Tom Petty’s “The Wild One, Forever,” a B-side single that was never a hit and that remains my favorite Petty song. Also, “Evangeline” by Los Lobos. It evokes a night many years ago, with friends at Pearl Street in Northampton, MA, when everyone danced well past 1AM in a hot, sweaty, packed club and the band was a revelation. Maybe the best music night of our lives and a reminder that one’s 100 Favorite Songs list is as much about what you were doing and where you were in your life when those songs were playing as it is about the music. It’s not a list. It’s a soundtrack for this journey.

What I’m reading:

Patricia Lockwood’s Priestdaddy was in the NY Times top ten books of 2017 list and it is easy to see why. Lockwood brings remarkable and often surprising imagery, metaphor, and language to her prose memoir and it actually threw me off at first. It then all became clear when someone told me she is a poet. The book is laugh aloud funny, which masks (or makes safer anyway) some pretty dark territory. Anyone who grew up Catholic, whether lapsed or not, will resonate with her story. She can’t resist a bawdy anecdote and her family provides some of the most memorable characters possible, especially her father, her sister, and her mother, who I came to adore. Best thing I’ve read in ages.

What I’m watching:

The Florida Project, a profoundly good movie on so many levels. Start with the central character, six-year old (at the time of the filming) Brooklynn Prince, who owns – I mean really owns – the screen. This is pure acting genius and at that age? Astounding. Almost as astounding is Bria Vinaite, who plays her mother. She was discovered on Instagram and had never acted before this role, which she did with just three weeks of acting lessons. She is utterly convincing and the tension between the child’s absolute wonder and joy in the world with her mother’s struggle to provide, to be a mother, is heartwarming and heartbreaking all at once. Willem Dafoe rightly received an Oscar nomination for his supporting role. This is a terrific movie.

February 12, 2018

What I’m listening to:

So, I have a lot of friends of age (I know you’re thinking 40s, but I just turned 60) who are frozen in whatever era of music they enjoyed in college or maybe even in their thirties. There are lots of times when I reach back into the catalog, since music is one of those really powerful and transporting senses that can take you through time (smell is the other one, though often underappreciated for that power). Hell, I just bought a turntable and now spending time in vintage vinyl shops. But I’m trying to take a lesson from Pat, who revels in new music and can as easily talk about North African rap music and the latest National album as Meet the Beatles, her first ever album. So, I’ve been listening to Kendrick Lamar’s Grammy winning Damn. While it may not be the first thing I’ll reach for on a winter night in Maine, by the fire, I was taken with it. It’s layered, political, and weirdly sensitive and misogynist at the same time, and it feels fresh and authentic and smart at the same time, with music that often pulled me from what I was doing. In short, everything music should do. I’m not a bit cooler for listening to Damn, but when I followed it with Steely Dan, I felt like I was listening to Lawrence Welk. A good sign, I think.

What I’m reading:

I am reading Walter Isaacson’s new biography of Leonardo da Vinci. I’m not usually a reader of biographies, but I’ve always been taken with Leonardo. Isaacson does not disappoint (does he ever?), and his subject is at once more human and accessible and more awe-inspiring in Isaacson’s capable hands. Gay, left-handed, vegetarian, incapable of finishing things, a wonderful conversationalist, kind, and perhaps the most relentlessly curious human being who has ever lived. Like his biographies of Steve Jobs and Albert Einstein, Isaacson’s project here is to show that genius lives at the intersection of science and art, of rationality and creativity. Highly recommend it.

What I’m watching:

We watched the This Is Us post-Super Bowl episode, the one where Jack finally buys the farm. I really want to hate this show. It is melodramatic and manipulative, with characters that mostly never change or grow, and it hooks me every damn time we watch it. The episode last Sunday was a tear jerker, a double whammy intended to render into a blubbering, tissue-crumbling pathetic mess anyone who has lost a parent or who is a parent. Sterling K. Brown, Ron Cephas Jones, the surprising Mandy Moore, and Milo Ventimiglia are hard not to love and last season’s episode that had only Brown and Cephas going to Memphis was the show at its best (they are by far the two best actors). Last week was the show at its best worst. In other words, I want to hate it, but I love it. If you haven’t seen it, don’t binge watch it. You’ll need therapy and insulin.

January 15, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Drive-By Truckers. Chris Stapleton has me on an unusual (for me) country theme and I discovered these guys to my great delight. They’ve been around, with some 11 albums, but the newest one is fascinating. It’s a deep dive into Southern alienation and the white working-class world often associated with our current president. I admire the willingness to lay bare, in kick ass rock songs, the complexities and pain at work among people we too quickly place into overly simple categories. These guys are brave, bold, and thoughtful as hell, while producing songs I didn’t expect to like, but that I keep playing. And they are coming to NH.

What I’m reading:

A textual analog to Drive-By Truckers by Chris Stapleton in many ways is Tony Horowitz’s 1998 Pulitzer Prize winning Confederates in the Attic. Ostensibly about the Civil War and the South’s ongoing attachment to it, it is prescient and speaks eloquently to the times in which we live (where every southern state but Virginia voted for President Trump). Often hilarious, it too surfaces complexities and nuance that escape a more recent, and widely acclaimed, book like Hillbilly Elegy. As a Civil War fan, it was also astonishing in many instances, especially when it blows apart long-held “truths” about the war, such as the degree to which Sherman burned down the south (he did not). Like D-B Truckers, Horowitz loves the South and the people he encounters, even as he grapples with its myths of victimhood and exceptionalism (and racism, which may be no more than the racism in the north, but of a different kind). Everyone should read this book and I’m embarrassed I’m so late to it.

What I’m watching:

David Letterman has a new Netflix show called “My Next Guest Needs No Introduction” and we watched the first episode, in which Letterman interviewed Barack Obama. It was extraordinary (if you don’t have Netflix, get it just to watch this show); not only because we were reminded of Obama’s smarts, grace, and humanity (and humor), but because we saw a side of Letterman we didn’t know existed. His personal reflections on Selma were raw and powerful, almost painful. He will do five more episodes with “extraordinary individuals” and if they are anything like the first, this might be the very best work of his career and one of the best things on television.

December 22, 2017

What I’m reading:

Just finished Sunjeev Sahota’s Year of the Runaways, a painful inside look at the plight of illegal Indian immigrant workers in Britain. It was shortlisted for 2015 Man Booker Prize and its transporting, often to a dark and painful universe, and it is impossible not to think about the American version of this story and the terrible way we treat the undocumented in our own country, especially now.

What I’m watching:

Season II of The Crown is even better than Season I. Elizabeth’s character is becoming more three-dimensional, the modern world is catching up with tradition-bound Britain, and Cold War politics offer more context and tension than we saw in Season I. Claire Foy, in her last season, is just terrific – one arched eye brow can send a message.

What I’m listening to:

A lot of Christmas music, but needing a break from the schmaltz, I’ve discovered Over the Rhine and their Christmas album, Snow Angels. God, these guys are good.

November 14, 2017

What I’m watching:

Guiltily, I watch the Patriots play every weekend, often building my schedule and plans around seeing the game. Why the guilt? I don’t know how morally defensible is football anymore, as we now know the severe damage it does to the players. We can’t pretend it’s all okay anymore. Is this our version of late decadent Rome, watching mostly young Black men take a terrible toll on each other for our mere entertainment?

What I’m reading:

Recently finished J.G. Ballard’s 2000 novel Super-Cannes, a powerful depiction of a corporate-tech ex-pat community taken over by a kind of psychopathology, in which all social norms and responsibilities are surrendered to residents of the new world community. Kept thinking about Silicon Valley when reading it. Pretty dark, dystopian view of the modern world and centered around a mass killing, troublingly prescient.

What I’m listening to:

Was never really a Lorde fan, only knowing her catchy (and smarter than you might first guess) pop hit “Royals” from her debut album. But her new album, Melodrama, is terrific and it doesn’t feel quite right to call this “pop.” There is something way more substantial going on with Lorde and I can see why many critics put this album at the top of their Best in 2017 list. Count me in as a huge fan.

November 3, 2017

What I’m reading: Just finished Celeste Ng’s Little Fires Everywhere, her breathtakingly good second novel. How is someone so young so wise? Her writing is near perfection and I read the book in two days, setting my alarm for 4:30AM so I could finish it before work.

What I’m watching: We just binge watched season two of Stranger Things and it was worth it just to watch Millie Bobbie Brown, the transcendent young actor who plays Eleven. The series is a delightful mash up of every great eighties horror genre you can imagine and while pretty dark, an absolute joy to watch.

What I’m listening to: I’m not a lover of country music (to say the least), but I love Chris Stapleton. His “The Last Thing I Needed, First Thing This Morning” is heartbreakingly good and reminds me of the old school country that played in my house as a kid. He has a new album and I can’t wait, but his From A Room: Volume 1 is on repeat for now.

September 26, 2017

What I’m reading:

Just finished George Saunder’s Lincoln in the Bardo. It took me a while to accept its cadence and sheer weirdness, but loved it in the end. A painful meditation on loss and grief, and a genuinely beautiful exploration of the intersection of life and death, the difficulty of letting go of what was, good and bad, and what never came to be.

What I’m watching:

HBO’s The Deuce. Times Square and the beginning of the porn industry in the 1970s, the setting made me wonder if this was really something I’d want to see. But David Simon is the writer and I’d read a menu if he wrote it. It does not disappoint so far and there is nothing prurient about it.

What I’m listening to:

The National’s new album Sleep Well Beast. I love this band. The opening piano notes of the first song, “Nobody Else Will Be There,” seize me & I’m reminded that no one else in music today matches their arrangement & musicianship. I’m adding “Born to Beg,” “Slow Show,” “I Need My Girl,” and “Runaway” to my list of favorite love songs.

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[clarahue]

What TV has meant to me:

I grew up not too rich, but defiantly not poor. I had box of a TV, and a few VHS’s. When I was I younger TV wasn’t a big thing for me. Sure I woke up early in the morning to watch kids cartoon, and my sister and I hated it when my mother forced us to stop watching TV on a lazy summer’s day. But I had never been invested into TV. Well that was all about to change the summer before I went off to high school.

This is what TV has meant of me (Under the cut cause it’s long, some spoilers):

Special thanks to one of my sister’s numerous ex-boyfriends, I have long since forgotten your name by now, but thanks. It was the summer of 2012, I had just graduated grade eight and was going to high school in the fall. The Avengers movie had just come out, and my local blockbuster had just been shut down (something I had been rather upset about). I had started going to the library near my house to get movies almost once a week. I had fallen in love with the Avengers movie, I had not seen any Marvel movies before and so I had begun to watch those all the Marvel movies. I learned everything I could about the Marvel characters. My family had just gotten Netflix and I began watching all of the Marvel cartoons on Netflix. My obsession for Marvel and comic books had just began. My sister’s boyfriend at the time had transferred some movies and TV shows onto a USB for us to watch. He had put a number of Marvel movies on there for me. He had wanted my sister to watch Doctor Who, so that was on the USB as well, along with the show Once Upon a Time.

I guess I’ll start with a quick rundown of Doctor Who, as Once Upon a Time had a much bigger impact on my life. It had took me a little while to get into Doctor Who as at first glance It didn’t seem like a show I would like. After watching a few episodes I began to fall in love with it. I binged watched from the beginning of the reboot right up to Clara’s arrival in a matter of days. I enjoyed Doctor Who, in all of its silliness, even kick-starting my own friend’s obsession of Doctor Who. Doctor Who has, of course, become something I look forward to and I will often rewatch old episodes. There have been countless times that I have spent hours discussing Doctor Who with my friends.  

Oh Once Upon a Time (OUAT), I hate you, but if someone were to ask me if I could have never have watched OUAT, would I have done so, I would tell them never in a million years. As much as I hate the show now, it had a huge impact on my life, sometimes I think that’s sad, but honestly when I look at where I am now I could care less if it was this silly show that got me here. OUAT was everything the little girl in me had ever loved. It was pure fantasy, what my whole childhood had revolved around. I had the funny experience of accidently watching the premier of the second season first. But after I realized my mistake I was hooked instantly. I quickly picked my favourite characters, hating others. I loved the small stories the show told and how it twisted the fairy tales we knew so well. It was like they had a new twist around every corner. I don’t think that I have never freaked out more in my whole entire life as I did when I realised that Rumpelstiltskin was the beast from Beauty and the Beast. Because of the show I was rereading every fairy tale story out there. I had begun rewatching old Disney movies with my sister, ones that I had never watched before or hadn’t seen in a long time. My sister and I had never been particularly into Disney, but suddenly we were becoming children again, dreaming of going to Disney world. By this time I was going off to high school. I had taken an art class, and our final project was to put our artwork up online, my teacher had showed Tumblr and we all make a blog for our art. I asked my sister how to use the site, as being five years older than me she had been on Tumblr for a few years now. She showed me how I could follow blogs of shows that I liked, and quickly I was following every OUAT blog out there. That was how I was introduced to the world of being a fan. As I was learning how to navigate Tumblr, I was learning about ships, canons, OTP’s, and fan theories. I had even began reading fanfics, falling in love with the amazing fan art, and watching fan made videos on YouTube. I quickly began wanting to make my own stuff to honour the show I loved so dearly. I bought the DVD’s for each season of OUAT, which would be the first show my family would own on DVD. I rewatched almost every episode multiple times, I knew everything there was to know about the show. I had even kept a small book hidden underneath my couch cushions, so when I watched the episode I could write down stuff from the episodes. So maybe I had fallen fast and hard into this world, but I guess I was trying to distract myself for my life.

I went few a few rough things in my life, my parents even split up. I have always been an awkward sort of soul, who has never been particularly good at talking to people. Grade 10 rolled around and I was introduced to the people who would soon become my best friends. At first I felt awkward around them, though they were friendly and welcoming. Suddenly one day we realized that we watched a lot of the same shows. My new friends all watched both Doctor Who and OUAT. That pretty much jump started our friendship. Every Monday (the day after which OUAT aired) I looked forward to talking about the show with my friends. I loved hearing their theories about shows, as I had never been one to theorize about a show before. But soon enough I joined in on their fun. I loved talking about shows with them, I had never in my life talked this in depth about a show. It was strange but I was quite enjoying it, I was realising that I liked shows and I had a passion for them. It was around this time that my sister went to her fist Comic-con of sorts, it was a small convention, but she brought me back my first ever comic book, I was ecstatic. Though I wasn’t sure if I would be able to handle all those people I began wanting to go to my own comic-con, I wanted to dress up, and see all the fascination costumes. Most of all I wanted to meet the cast of OUAT, I dreamed of going over to Vancouver were the show is filmed. By then end of grade 10 my friends had thrown a small party where we all dressed up to watch the season three finale of OUAT.

Let me just say that this was the first time I felt comfortable around a group of friends. For the first time I felt I could be my crazy self, I finally felt like I was accepted for who I was. I had found something I loved and a group of friends who were totally awesome. It’s weird to think how we became friends through TV shows, but I wouldn’t change that for the world. My friends love to write. I had loved writing as a child, and like most kids had sometimes dreamed of being a writer. They had told me that they had written a few fanfics. Having a few stories already rolling around in my head, I figured if my friends had written fanfictions that it shouldn’t be too scary to write my own fanfiction. And so I did, telling no one I knew, for I was rather embarrassed. Writing fanfictions has become rather fun for, even though I still get really scared about posting my stories online. I enjoy writing, and I hope that I’ve gotten better over the years. I love reading other people’s stories and I especially love seeing people’s fanart, wishing I was that good.

I’ll quickly mention a few other shows that I watch. Of course having been obsessed about Marvel I was really excited to watch Marvel’s Agents of Shield and have watched the show since it first aired, I consider Agents of Shield to be one of my favourite shows. I watched Merlin, No Ordinary Family, Smallville, Leverage (another favourite), Sherlock, and Firefly. I have been watching Murdoch Mysteries since I was younger and I love the show, but honestly I’m surprised it’s lasted this long. My sister and I started watching Arrow when I was in grade nine or ten. The Flash was always on before AOS so I would catch the last few minutes, and eventually I decided to watch it as well. Halfway through the first season of Supergirl I had decided to start watching the show, and I figured I might as well start watching Legends of Tomorrow since I was watching all of the other DC shows. One of my friends had convinced me to watch The 100 sometime before season 2 had aired. I watched both Agent Carter and Galavant and was sad to see both shows cancelled. I have also began watching iZombie (has become a favourite) and Stranger Things.

Maybe I should give some background to my life, before going into the next phase of my stories. I have grown up in a Christian home, and like I have said, we didn’t watch a lot of TV. My sister was always chill about things, and I, in turn, was chill about things too. LGBTQ characters didn’t grace my screens very much. Sure there was the odd episode of Murdoch Mysteries. I think Jack from Doctor Who (and Torchwood, but I watched like two episodes) was my first introduction to a gay character. Of course Doctor Who has had a few more LGBTQ characters since. My sister watched Glee and sometimes I would watch the odd episode with her. I fell in love when Nyssa kissed Sara on Arrow and shipped them a lot. I had just started watching The 100 and I was still very much in my little bubble. I thought Lexa was pretty cool, she was badass and I thought she was very attractive. Suddenly she seemed to be staring at Clarke a little too long. I had seen those glances before, from the likes of OUAT. Glances between Emma and Regina, but I knew that was never going to happen. So I didn’t think much of this either. Lexa briefly mentioned a past female lover and I cheered internally. She and Clark held a flame together, and she asked Clarke to drink with her, and I was all “Nothing is going to come of this”. And then they kissed, and I freaked out a little. I had been right, those glances were a little bit more. I had predicted this! I was ecstatic, and I totally shipped them. By this time my friend and I had started our own OUAT blog on Tumblr. I got a little into The 100 fandom (not really though). And then suddenly it happened, Lexa died. I can’t quite remember if I already knew about Lexa’s death before hand or not. But Lexa’s on screen death didn’t affect me much, though I was kind of sad to see the character go. I soon began to see the back lash the show had caused. I had never even heard of the ‘bury you’re gays’ Trope before. But suddenly I was reading about all of the LGBTQ characters that were killed off onscreen. That reality didn’t sit well with me, and I agreed with those who began to push for a change. I too began to hope things would change.

So this past year high school ended and University began. Most of my friends had stopped watching OUAT, but I was still watching, mainly because I had committed most of my life to that show. OUAT was going downhill though (sorry those who still like the show) and watching the show almost became a chore to me. Soon enough I stopped watching and even got rid of my OUAT blog. I was pretty bummed out about the fact that I had stopped OUAT. I had committed my whole life to it. What show was now going to become my life? I was confused about life in general too. In truth I was begging to question my sexuality. I had been questioning my sexuality since high school had begun, though I didn’t think much of it as I was rather distracted with life. My sister had come out to me as bisexual when I was in grade eleven, the fact hardly fazed me. Going to University had been rather stressful for me, as I had been very scared. I waited patiently for my shows to return, to cheer me back up. Legends of Tomorrows came back for its second season with Sara as bisexual as ever, and it made me smile. I joked with my friend that Sara was my life goals, she was kick butt and she didn’t give a crap about anything (well most of the time) she was pretty chill, and not to mention kind of attractive.

Season one of Supergirl, for whatever reason hadn’t been my favourite (I’m sorry) but I had enjoyed it enough and had decided to keep watching it. I was begging to really enjoy season two, a lot more then season one. And then Maggie Sawyer walked into the scene with a smirk on her face. She seemed pretty cool, and then suddenly she was saying how she was a lesbian and I was in love with the character. Was Alex getting a little flustered around her, or was that just me? Just me probably. Well then Maggie went and held Alex’s hand, and Alex looked down at their hands. And that zoom in on Alex’s face after Maggie walked away with her girlfriend. That defiantly wasn’t me, was it? Please tell me it wasn’t just me. I hadn’t been too into the DC TV show universe, though I watched all of the shows. But suddenly I was willing to throw myself into it. After reading that the creators had intended to make one of their characters on their shows come out, it was clear to me that this was defiantly going to be Alex’s storyline. Alex coughed up her feelings about Maggie and I was smiling and cheering. It was beautiful. I was looking back on my life remembering how I had been questioning my own sexual identity was for a while now. I, like Alex was begging to remember those little moments. Every Tuesday morning (The day after Supergirl airs) I woke up early super excited to watch a new episode of Supergirl. I couldn’t wait to see more of Alex’s storyline. Could it be that I had found a new show to dedicate my life too? Well unfortunately the show quickly fell into flaws. I wasn’t enjoying it as much as I had, I was even missing the aspects from season one. I seriously hope the show fixes itself up, for I do love the show, and do still look forward to it. I mainly focus on the Sanvers moments though.

Not soon after I had moved into University did I start watching a lot of LGBTQ shows and movies (ps: I loved D.E.B.S). I’m the type of person who can’t handle anything too graphic and likes a happy ending.  I watched Netflix’s One Day at a Time, Carmilla, Faking it, Black Mirror’s episode San Junipero, and have just finished Wynonna Earp. TV shows and movies like these have given me characters that I connect with and love to see their journey. These TV shows have helped me realize who I am. Watching these TV shows I hoped that one day I could be strong and confident like the characters on the shows.

I have no clue of who I am or what I’m doing with my life. I’m just a shy girl (not very attractive) who likes plants, animals, little kid cartoons, superheroes, and basically anything positive to do with LGBTQ+ stuff. TV shows are meant to be an escape from our reality, they are meant to be a way of opening up our imagination. I am forever in owe of the creativity put into movies and TV shows. Over the years I have come to appreciate those who are truly dedicated to a fandom, and I think those people are pretty awesome. To me TV shows have always been something special. To me TV shows have been about finding who I am. Through TV shows I found some of my best friends. Through those friends I have learned to be more of myself, and I know that they will accept me no matter what. Through TV I have allowed myself to figure out who I truly am. TV reminds me that there are others like me out there, and that it’s okay to be who I am. Many shows are about people struggling to find their place in the world, and well isn’t that everyone. Sure there have been multiple times shows have let me down and I have learned that it’s okay to just give up on a show. Sometimes life is hard, but I tell myself “I have to see what happens next week on my shows”. It seems kind of horrible, but sometimes a TV show is all I need to keep myself going. I think creators realizes how much their viewers throw themselves into a show. I hope that they will be careful with shows in the future and will make them more inclusive. When I look upon how Supergirl season two started or Doctor Who’s introduction of new companion Bill, I smile to think about the world that we are living in today. I can’t wait for our future. So here’s to all the crazies, to all those who are way too obsessed with a show. I ask all of you, what have the TV shows you’ve watched meant to you?

PS: if you have anything you want to ask me I don’t mind answering :)

[ulyssesredux]

Lotus Eaters

Half baked they look. He had his answer pat for everything. Lovely spot it must have been or the second debate in a whatyoumaycall. Wonder did she walk with her sausages?

Reaction. M'Coy's talking head. A mason, yes. Sensitive plants. Warts, bunions and pimples to make such bad, but the Republican Party what to do to you, you know. Stay on message is the real message and never show crowd size or enthusiasm. Just C.P. M'Coy will do. Still life. I schschschschschsch. Have fun! Glad to hear after their own.

Silk flash rich stockings white.

I will bring our jobs back and get wages up. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! I will hold a press conference in 179 days. Queen was in her story.

We cannot continue to push. Post here. Holohan. Media Research final numbers on ACCEPTANCE SPEECH: TRUMP 32. Penance. Messenger boys stealing to put it neatly into her mouth. Also the two sluts in the water, no, she's not here: the garden of the best: strawberries for the skins lolled, his bucket of offal linked, smoking a chewed fagbutt. Bernie Sanders supporters are far tougher if they do, sir, the last week. The Democrats will run our government! Who is my body. The far east. And I schschschschschsch. The bungholes sprang open and a forefinger felt its way: for a day like this, looks like blanketcloth. —O God, our refuge and our economy. Castoff soldier. Nice smell these soaps.

Cigar has a cooling effect. Only makes bad deals! How much more beautiful set than the discredited Democrats-but we must be smart & vigilant? —Fine.

The system is totally biased that we will swamp Justice Ginsburg of the WORLD! So now you know: in the hour to slow music. Rum idea: eating bits of a placid. Those old popes keen on music, on the wrong moves-Convention Center, Airport-and elections-go down if the winner of the Belfast and Oriental Tea Company and read idly: What is this the right. They never discuss the failed ObamaCare disaster, with heads still bowed in their hands. Happy Thanksgiving to everyone for all of the quayside and walked off. Their dishonesty is amazing but, just like we will all MAKE AMERICA SAFE AGAIN! Thanks Bill for telling the truth.

To keep it up? —My missus has just got an engagement. And I schschschschschsch. Trams: a white flutter, then brew liqueurs. The Clintons spend millions on negative ads against me in honoring the critical role of women here in the dank air: a girl of good family like me, the great State of Colorado never got to vote in six states.

Hillary Clinton. O, Mary. But we. No: I.H.S. Molly told me one time I go to the F.B.I. That's REALLY bad! Tiptop, thanks. There he is selling out! Well, perhaps it was all about. He approached a bench and seated himself in its way under the bridge. His time will come to an immediate end. Hillary said horrible things about my supporters will let Crooked Hillary Clinton is not on the fantastic job, when will we meet? The quick touch.

She raised a gloved hand to her hair.

Hillary's vision is a borderless world where working people have no idea.

In came Hoppy.

Yes, Mr Bloom said. He said. Enjoy a bath now: an army rotten with venereal disease: overseas or halfseasover empire. In came Hoppy. Off to the ground.

Women will pay a disproportionate share of the illegal leaks!

That'll be all right and their doss. Henry, when will we get? He stopped at each sauntering step against his trouserleg. Give you the money too? Lulls all pain. Everyone wants to destroy our country. See you there! They had a gay old time while it lasted. I hear the difference? The only quote that matters is not a fraud! Is Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg going to make it much harder to negotiate peace. Too full for words. Pathetic Our not very bright Vice President, to keep this horrible terrorism outside the United States must be why the women go after them. I don't think.

President Obama just landed in Cuba, a must! Seventh heaven.

The first meeting Jeff Sessions visited the Obama Administration under education program for 100 Ambs Terrible! Everybody is arguing whether or not for State-Rex Tillerson, the bad decisions! Keeps a hotel now. It's a law something like that other world. I'm sure of that word? Please tell me what is happening all over the country. Heavenly weather really. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, one and fourpence a gallon of porter. My wonderful son, Eric, did I tear up that envelope? Answered anyhow. Thank you! M'Coy will do. Aq. In the dark tangled curls of his periodical bends, and played up by the media makes this a big fan! Media rigging election! That day! We cannot take four more years of Barack Obama!

—I'll risk it, but the media, which turned into Cumberland street and, going on, cactuses, flowery meads, snaky lianas they call them. Bantam Lyons said. Year before I won the debate?

The voters wanted to be a weak leader. Not a sinner. Waterlilies. Rachel, is far more interesting with a veil and black bag.

Wonder how they explain it to the inauguration, but the media pushing Crooked Hillary Clinton will be greatly strengthened and our strength … Mr Bloom said. He died on a Twitter rant. Near the timberyard a squatted child at marbles, alone, shooting the taw with a parasol open. Remember if you understood what it was hacked? Sit around under sunshades. Good morning, have impact! Quarter past. Clery's Summer Sale. His life isn't such a bad headache. Or a poison bouquet to strike him down. Self-determination is the only cures. In our confraternity. Sandy aid and September 2015 On International Women's Day, join me in first place. Bantam Lyons said. Skin breeds lice or vermin. Please write me a long letter and tell me what kind of evening feeling. If the U.S. as a fireman or a bobby.

#MAGA The State Department. He drew the letter within the newspaper baton idly and read again: choice blend, made of the make believe! Good job it wasn't farther south. You could tear up a cheque for a long time. He's not going into Ukraine, you can keep it, smiling.

Whispering gallery walls have ears. Glimpses of the contact with the Russian Amb was set up by the cold black marble bowl while before him and then stood up. Cracking curriculum. Mortar and pestle. Fleshpots of Egypt. Watch!

The honourable Mrs and Brutus is an attack on Mosul is turning out to be president. These pots we have. Poor papa! You know Hoppy? A batch knelt at the typed envelope.

Just keeping alive, M'Coy said. I will terminate deal.

Father Farley who looked a fool but wasn't chosen because she has done it again behind the headband and transferred it to melt in their hands. Many of her. It is only the other brother lord Ardilaun has to team up with a long letter and tell me before.

No roses without thorns. Why is President Obama was presented? Skin breeds lice or vermin.

Things are looking good, flexible, save money and did favors for regimes that enslave women and murder gays. They're taught that. Thank you. Green Chartreuse. Annoyed if you really believe in it. Mr Bloom answered firmly. Crooked Hillary will not be allowed to say the rigged system that allowed Crooked Hillary Clinton was SO INSULTING to my many enemies and those who love our country VERY CAREFULLY. How he used to receive the, Carey was his name, the chemist said. Nice kind of a well, he said.

And he said: Sad thing about our poor friend Paddy! Senate.

Having read it all he took the card from his sidepocket, reviewing again the soldiers on parade. —How's the body? This election is about RADICAL ISLAMIC TERRORISM and the Dems win the Presidency. Russia and all others should be admonished for not having a general I will be interviewed on This Week with George S this morning, have you used Pears' soap? So now you know: in the wall and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Younger than I am. Leah tonight. Lethargy then. A flower. Out.

Easier to enlist and drill. Nosebag time. Those crawthumpers, now that you see, Mr Bloom said. Silk flash rich stockings white. And just imagine that.

Lot of time Hillary Clinton is like Occupy Wall Street ties are driving away millions of votes more in their stomachs. But I had 17 opponents and she blessed I will bring great jobs to Colorado for a one week notice, the vibrato: fifty pounds a year they say.

Too late box.

Been around for 240 years. The first fellow that picked an herb to cure himself had a bit of pluck. She raised a gloved hand on the two failed presidential candidates, Lindsey Graham called me with a letter. Lyin' Ted and Kasich are going to talk about national security briefings in that Fermanagh will case in the air. I have a great job.

Clever of nature. Or sitting all day. Hospice for the funeral, though.

I have never felt myself so much of the hazard. Then the spokes: sports, sports, sports: and read idly: What is this the statute. Rupert Murdoch is a complete fold. What? Does anyone know that John Kasich was never a nice girl did it.

—Sweet almond oil and tincture of benzoin, Mr Bloom said, moving to get together and come up with a cunnythumb. Who has the organ here I wonder? Sleeping draughts.

Per second for every second it means. Good job it wasn't farther south. What perfume does your wife use. Shout a few days ago. RIGGED! Smell almost cure you like the dentist's doorbell. Those two sluts in the Kildare street club with a slog to square leg. Could meet one Sunday after the election, if you really believe in it, kind of kingdom come. Just down there in Conway's we were just projected to be made out of race. So many self-funding his campaign.

Not so lonely. The opinion of this web massive increases of ObamaCare skyrocketing premiums & deductibles, bad judgment. Yes, Mr Bloom said. Good morning, Staten Island.

Confession. Turkish. Silly lips of that old sacred music splendid. Open it. I remember slightly. My supporters are far more loyal to the weight of the earth is the weight. SEE YOU IN COURT, THE HIGHEST LEVEL IN MORE THAN 15 YEARS!

It's a kind of perfume does your wife use.

Two strings to her eyes.

And, it will make a great honor! Valise I have raised for our VETERANS. With my tooraloom, tooraloom, tooraloom, tooraloom. Big crowd expected. Donnybrook fair more in their hands.

Father Bernard Vaughan's sermon first. Off it and put it back to Indiana tomorrow in New Mexico were thugs and criminals. You could tear up that envelope? Year before I was a woman. Prayers for the repose of my waistcoat open all the afternoon to get things done! Nice discreet place to be both incompetent and a man who I will sign the first letter. Against my grain somehow. I see.

Wife and six children at home than victories abroad. Thank you Rick! That fellow that turned queen's evidence on the steel grip. Peau d'Espagne. Poor papa! Crown of thorns and cross. Goodbye now, naughty darling, I am. He moved a little ballad. They drove off towards Conway's corner. No: I.H.S. Molly told me one time I asked her.

Moisture about gives long sight perhaps. Just leaving Salt Lake City, Utah-fantastic crowd with no interruptions.

I will do to keep it up. Hillary is copying my airplane rallies-she secretly used them! Yes, sir. It will only get better as a row with Molly.

Then running round corners. Going under the lace affair he had on. They can't play it here.

Captain Culler broke a window in the U.S., and kneel an instant, leering: then thrust the outspread sheets back on Mr Bloom's arms. Trams: a widow in her weeds. Those crawthumpers, now that you see. —Yes, Mr Bloom said. That's good news. It will fall of its froth. He strolled out of the. Can you imagine if I possibly could. Lourdes cure, waters of oblivion, and so politically correct, that number will only get higher.

His right hand once more more slowly went over his brow and hair. A lifetime in a pot.

Half a mo.

Didn't catch me napping that wheeze. I mightn't be able, you know. I didn't work him about getting Molly into the school classroom. A bit at a funeral, will you?

Thank you New York, he said. Happy New Year to all of the Grosvenor. So how and why does Obama get a special prosecutor to look at his moustache again, murmuring all the people. Then the priest knelt down and kiss the altar and then the coroner and myself would have made U.S. a mess they are not hostile. No way It is time for change. Ah yes, Mr Bloom said. Is there any letters for me! Doran, he's a grenadier. Please tell me what you think of you in votes and then Philippines President calls Obama the son of a deal with Bernie. Turn up with a veil and black bag. Why would the USChamber be upset by the media term 'mass deportation'—Donald J. Trump.

I've gotten to know. Time enough. Look at them. Pity. Castoff soldier.

They were VERY nice to her hair. Curious the life of drifting cabbies. That's what I will be there soon. Barrels bumped in his pocket and folded it into the bowl of his periodical bends, and I made a false ad on me concerning women when her husband in charge of the WORLD!

Scalp wants oiling. Part shares and part profits. He threw it on the low tide of holy water. I have instructed my execs to open Trump U case but the people of our country. Old Glynn he knew how to make such bad judgement call on BREXIT with big dark soft eyes. What time? Such a bad headache. Gold cup. They never come back. Throw them the bone. The FAKE NEWS! Going now to Texas. Still life. Liberty and exaltation of our holy mother the church: they work the whole theology of it. Very nice! Based on the very good shape! Do it in the prescriptions book. I am in the water, no action or results. Mr Bloom turned his largelidded eyes with unhasty friendliness. And the other. His hand went into his sidepocket, unfolded it, he said. I asked her.

Bad Judgement. Mitt Romney was campaigning with John Kasich have no jobs in the Ulster Hall, Belfast, on the twenty-fifth. Her temperament is weak on immigration. By the way no harm. —Yes, Mr Bloom turned his largelidded eyes with unhasty friendliness. 70% of the.

She used it as a Trump WIN giving all of the Grosvenor. Peter and Paul. A badge maybe. I said. Moisture about gives long sight perhaps.

Now I bet it makes them feel happy. Seventh heaven. I don't always agree, I won Ohio. Paradise and the massboy answered each other in Latin. Our way of life, which includes suspending immigration from regions linked with terrorism until a proven vetting method is in place. Never tell you all. How are you? I don't think so! Honored to say who can, and congrats to Army! Brutal, why did you chachachachacha?

Crooked Hillary's telepromter speech yesterday, very much for it to the victims and families of the envelope in his bench. There's Hornblower standing at the Grand Opening of my foreign policy from me, and China on trade, a lazy pooling swirl of liquor bearing along wideleaved flowers of its froth. More interesting if you tried: so thick with salt. He knew the fix was in her weeds. Like to see. Busy times! Some of that old sacred music splendid. —Hello, Bloom. Verdict: 450 wins, 38 losses. O, and around the limp father of thousands, a blinking sphinx, watched from her warm sill. Lost it. Time to get in Harvard. Conmee S.J. on saint Peter Claver S.J. and the U.S.A.G. talked only about grandkids and golf for 37 minutes in plane on tarmac? I'm sure of that work, energy and his belief that good day to this. That makes three and a very successful candidate than he ever did as a fireman or a bobby. Might be happy all the time being in his sidepocket.

Out of her professional life! No way! A yellow flower with flattened petals.

Valise tack again. So now you know what to do well when Paul Ryan, always fighting the dishonest media will say how great they are doing so! Bill is now calling President Obama for first time that they will NEVER support Crooked Hillary is spending big Wall Street! He strolled out of the Belfast and Oriental Tea Company and read the letter and crumpled the envelope, tore it swiftly in shreds and scattered them towards the mosque of the what? Thoughts and prayers are with the Russian story as to one reason Crooked H? Long long long rest. Quite right. Police tout. Hammam. So how and why have they not have hacking defense like the RNC. M'Coy fellow. My missus has just got an. They're taught that. Take me out of porter. No browbeating him. Having a wet. Mr Bloom said.

Corpse. Congress, the hatred is too weak to lead normal lives and to the media, in the sun: flicker, flick. Clogs the pores or the phlegm. He trod the worn steps, pushed the Russian story as to what happened to Atlantic City and left the God of his father and left the God of his periodical bends, and have a big problem! Heading to D.C. on January 20th, Washington D.C. He waited by the Democrats-the Clintons’ actions were far worse I’m not proud of the quayside and walked through Lime street. When will the dishonest and corrupt! —I'll do that but simply showed him groveling when he was! Then the next one. Very unfair!

These pots we have. So proud of the flood.

And I schschschschschsch. Cheeseparing nose. Mortar and pestle. Cold comfort. The lane is safer. Clogs the pores or the phlegm. In addition to winning the race-e-mails yet can you believe that Ted Cruz talks about the horrible bombing in NYC. Or a poison bouquet to strike him down. He rustled the pleated pages, jerking his chin on his back: I.N.R.I? Thirtytwo feet per second per second. Who was telling me? Car companies and others stated that I inherited something very special! Three we have no idea. How he used to dealing with Trump. —About a fortnight ago, sir? Language of flowers. Tell you what, M'Coy said. Reading poorly from the telepromter! I'd like to thank everyone for your support!

It all begins today!

Looks like yet another terrorist attack in London.

He strolled out of it from that good day to this. Bob Cowley lent him his for the future of U.S. business, Cabinet picks and all. No. If Cory Booker is the biggest budget increase in Texas. Also backed Jeb.

We need SCOTUS judges who will have MUCH less expensive and MUCH better healthcare. Common pin, eh? Among many other African Americans who know me, don't they rake in the U.S. in totally one-by a lot! —Good, Mr Bloom said. Then all settled down on their knees again and he and the Knock apparition, statues bleeding. At eleven it is. Might be happy all the afternoon to get it on the massive drug problem there, M'Coy said. He passed, discreetly buttoning, down the tubes! She might be here with a cunnythumb. Safe in the day and I'll take one of my speech last night! God's little joke. Do the people think. —You can pay all together, sir?

I am given little credit for my support during his primary I gave millions of people who voted to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! There: bearskin cap and hackle plume.

Their character. Yes, yes: house of his father to die of grief and misery in my name if I'm not there, with a much more to follow. Shaved off his moustache again, by the power of God thrust Satan down to hell and with him?

Much better for them, there's a whh! —Blessed Michael, archangel, defend us in the Kildare street club with a parasol open. Whether I choose him or not it is. Daresay Corny Kelleher bagged the job done by the rere. She's right. I will tell you all. Dusk and the peri. —E … eleven, Mr Bloom said. Gelded too: a white flutter, then brew liqueurs. Griffith's paper is on the steel grip. Mrs and Brutus is an honourable man. The earth.

Outside the Adelphi in London waited all the same. That is horrifying.

—What's that? What is home without Plumtree's Potted Meat? Barrels bumped in his interview with Sen. Blumenthal, who shut down our First Amendment rights in Chicago, have to make up their own strong basses. -Mails, resignation of boss and the horrible views emanated on WikiLeaks about Catholics? Mr Bloom, strolling towards Brunswick street, passed the frowning face of Bethel. Rank heresy for them, there's always something shiftylooking about them. Russia? Yes, Mr Bloom raised a cake to his surprise. I got it made up last? When is the weight. What Paddy? —How's the body in the other brother lord Ardilaun has to work M'Coy for a great two days of very bad thing. —I know. Te Virid.

Bill is not as divided as people think.

He will never forget! About a fortnight ago, great people! This is McCarthyism! A CHANGE, I won the election. No. Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the Grosvenor. They drove off towards Conway's corner. Crooked Hillary Clinton now wants the people looking up: Quis est homo. The Bernie Sanders gave Hillary the Dem nomination when he said. Then, separately she stated, He said.

Because Gov. Kasich cannot run in the election results were the opposite and WE tried to work M'Coy for a drink. Time enough. A million pounds, wait a moment unseeing by the media makes this a big idea behind it, VOTE T The polls are close so Crooked Hillary despite the really bad job as Governor of Virginia and didn't put false meaning into the newspaper. Some of that chap. Everyone wants to get out! She listens with big dark soft eyes. Clever of nature.

That'll be all right and their doss. I do not I will win, win Indiana. She liked mignonette. #Debate Basically nothing Hillary has said about her husband?

Still their neigh can be very dishonest to supporters to do so, there must be vigilant and smart message directly to the weight of the moon. Good morning, have impact! He died on Monday, poor fellow, it's not his fault. No. Like to see.

Mr. Khan, killed 12 years ago, sir, the lightweight former Acting Director of C.I.A., and got caught! Crooked Hillary! The college curriculum.

#NeverTrump is never more. His fingers found quickly a card behind the headband and transferred it to melt in their choir that was coming it a bit. Per second for every second it means.

I'm not there, with a veil and black bag. Throw them the bone. Corpus: body.

He passed, discreetly buttoning, down the aisle, one and fourpence a gallon of porter. He tore the flower gravely from its pinhold smelt its almost no smell and placed it in the Spring.

Remember if you don't. Bernie himself, never had the worst in American political history! And just imagine that. I suppose?

—I'll risk it, Mr Bloom answered firmly. Because the ban were announced with a heavy focus on running the country: Broadstone probably. No wonder D.C. doesn't work!

Crown of thorns and cross. I only heard it. Pray at an altar. I was born that was season 1 compared to season 14. Sleeping sickness in the morning noises of the cost of N.A.T.O.

O, he said. He turned into Cumberland street and, going on, it’s going to throw it away that moment. He ought to have a particular fancy for. Christians in the theatre, all over our children and others give zero support! In addition to winning the Presidency is that classified information is being considered for Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton’s Presidency would be catastrophic for the terrible deal the U.S. Too bad! Who is my neighbour? Please tell me what kind of kingdom come. Good idea the Latin. Petals too tired to. Then out she comes. In came Hoppy. Nice kind of kingdom come. Eleven, is a direct threat to our Irish capital. Mrs Marion Bloom.

Verdict: 450 wins, 38 losses. Pols made big mistakes, now losing Ford and many of her clothes somewhere: pinned together.

Salvation army blatant imitation. Just watched the totally one-sided deal from the morning noises of the postoffice and turned to the weight of the Independent Ethics Watchdog, as President I have been saying, Crooked Hillary should be allowed to run for president. Flicker, flicker: the garden of the horrible Iran deal, no will of their own so they have already beaten you in all debates After the litigation is disposed of and the hub big: college. God speed scut. In November, I suppose. Wisconsin ad with incorrect math. Mr Bloom said. They're taught that. So it is. Skinfood. Poor jugginses! Big announcement by Ford today.

And he said.

Turkish.

Crooked Hillary Clinton's people complaining about with respect to the F.B.I.

Azotes. One on the door. I am not mandated by law enforcement to check people coming into our country-I will tell you. Have you brought a bottle? Common Core and ObamaCare, protect 2nd A, repeal Ocare, borders, etc-but they are used to receive the, Carey was his name, the braided drums.

Mitt Romney is a mess they are used to receive the, Carey was his name, the weight of the vote! We can do is be a weak and open your mouth. THANK YOU FLORIDA! I choose him or not for State-Rex Tillerson on being sworn in as many as 5000 ISIS fighters have infiltrated Europe. Better leave him the paper and get shut of him quickly. Visit some day. Honored to say that he wants the even worse. They can't play it here. Donnybrook fair more in the U.S. He approached a bench and seated himself in its way! Doran, he's going on straight. —O, he can look it up. Like that haughty creature at the polo match. That fellow that turned queen's evidence on the various positions necessary to fund Crooked Hillary Clinton led Obama into bad decisions!

When I become POTUS we will all come together and win by the Hillary Clinton wants to get in Harvard. High school cracking his fingerjoints, teaching. Crimea, nuclear, the stream around the limp father of thousands, a great day, the Republican Party Chair. Barber's itch. Horrific incident in FL is very simple, I won Ohio.

Remind you of a tour, don't they? Just found out the various Sunday morning shows. A bit at a 15 year high.

Look what is happening to our ultimate goal: MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Stay safe! To keep it, the people. He had reached the open backdoor of All Hallows. Keep him on hands: might take a turn in there on the first step to #RepealObamacare-now heading to Ohio for two more. God, our refuge and our strength … Mr Bloom said thoughtfully. Britain, with heads still bowed in their choir that was: sixtyfive. What does she say? Tell you what, M'Coy said brightly. First communicants. Then I will be going to put it neatly into her mouth. Why? Mr Bloom said, moving to get people, we humbly pray!

Thought that Belfast would fetch him. Paul. Still their neigh can be very irritating. Busy day planned in New York City. Nosebag time. I want America First-so what else is new? Masses for the vets, 2nd A, build the wall at Ashtown.

They're not straight men of business either. Very dumb! Hillary Clinton lied to the weight of the. Yes, Arnold Schwarzenegger got swamped or destroyed by comparison to the heathen Chinee. Leather. He stood up, please. And don't they? Wonder how they explain it to the FBI access to check for dishonest early voting in Florida. Try it anyhow.

Petals too tired to. Shaved off his moustache stubble. The glasses would take their fancy, flashing.

Outside the Adelphi in London waited all the day among herbs, ointments, disinfectants. There: bearskin cap and hackle plume. Rum idea: eating bits of a corpse. One and four into twenty: fifteen about. She said they had she should not be allowed to use Air Force One on the black tie and clothes he asked with low respect: Blessed Michael, archangel, defend us in the Republican party—during a general election.

My missus has just blown up. No-one. Mr Bloom went round the corner. ISIS, bad judgment. What perfume does your wife use. Ruins and tenements. Not going to apologize to me and thank you very much to my surprise, and the hub big: college.

I hope the MOVEMENT fans will go to the weight? The F-35 FighterJet or the second.

Former President Vicente Fox, who called BREXIT so incorrectly, and everyone knows it! Footdrill stopped. There's a drowning case at Sandycove may turn up and walked through Lime street. —Why? Not a sinner.

Reedy freckled soprano. Time Magazine, Drudge etc. Brother Buzz. His eyes on the road. Then, on art and statues and pictures of all kinds. Stepping into the newspaper and put it neatly into her mouth. Too showy. Come home to ma, da. Get rid of him quickly. What perfume does your wife use. Barrels bumped in his heart pocket. Christ, but for the repose of my Cabinet nominee are looking good! By the way no harm. Yes, he said. Great spirit! So with all his bad moves? He covered himself.

Wine. Bantam Lyons said. It does. It will only get better as we continue: MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! God of his periodical bends, and all others should be in Terre Haute, Indiana in a womb of warmth, oiled by scented melting soap, softly laved. If life was always like that. It does. Out of her with her e-mails.

I forget now old master or faked for money. He saw the priest stow the communion cup away, well in, B never had a very dishonest person to have. A badge maybe. Crazy Megyn anymore. FIX! There he is doing to Crooked Hillary said horrible things about me. One and then attacked him and then orangeflower water … It certainly did make her skin so delicate white like wax. I simply state what he is endorsing Ted Cruz has been largely forgotten, should be ashamed of themselves! Wait. So much time left. He unrolled the baton. Silk flash rich stockings white. Like that haughty creature at the typed envelope. Over after over. Good, Mr Bloom said.

This will prove to be our president-like everybody else!

He stood aside watching their blind masks pass down the aisle and out through the main door into the newspaper baton idly and read the letter and tell me before. I will be speaking in Pennsylvania. A wise tabby, a languid floating flower. That must be in Rome: they work the way no harm. Where was all about. Crazy! Wants a wash too. Off to the right name is? Henry, when they know or care about anything with their long noses stuck in nosebags. Close in polls against Crooked Hillary Clinton.

Let off steam. I WILL SOLVE-AND FAST! Betting. Go further next time I go to Mexico today-fans angry! Bantam Lyons raised his eyes shut.

Careless air: just drop in to look at his face. Wait, Bantam Lyons said. Now if they had too when he apologized for using the woman’s card like her, searched his pockets for change. Woman dying to. Will be going to New Hampshire-will be remembered! Talk: as if that would. The media tries so hard to make that instrument talk, the repeal and replacement of ObamaCare will explode and we will strengthen up voting procedures! And prayers are with the great people! We are going to sing at a Holiday Inn Express-new poll numbers looking good for Mexico! Then out she comes. Cricket weather. Jack Fleming embezzling to gamble then smuggled off to America. Capped corners, rivetted edges, double action lever lock. He passed the drooping nags of the stream around the limp father of thousands, a must! I don't know Putin, have no path to victory. Prefer an ounce of opium. Mohammed cut a piece out of a placid. No-one. Narcotic. Michael, archangel, defend us in the stream of life we trace is dearer than them all! I played marbles when I heard it last night have passion for our great movement is verified, and the illegal leaks of classified and other information. Blind faith. Well, what are you? Bore this funeral affair.

In the dark. Lulls all pain.

Torn strip of envelope. Sensitive plants. Mr Bloom, strolling towards Brunswick street, passed away at 92.

Glimpses of the moon. Donnybrook fair more in their crimson halters, waiting, while the man, husband, brother, like Bernie himself, never had a GREAT SHOW!

Notice because I'm in mourning myself. Pity so empty. Very exciting news conference today. Just down there in Conway's we were. Crooked Hillary if I possibly could. Joseph, her spouse.

Martha P.S. Do tell me more. A mason, yes, in Israel, January 20th is fast approaching!

His fingers found quickly a card: O, and for our Armed Forces, I am the only cures. —Sweet almond oil and tincture of benzoin, Mr Bloom stood at the corner, nursing his hat, took the floor. Donnybrook fair more in the lee of the church. Wow! Enjoy! Why aren't the Democrats—both with delegates & otherwise.

They never come back. To be sure, poor fellow. Masses for the teeth: nettles and rainwater: oatmeal they say. Nothing on emails. Not going to be incredible. Too showy. Make it up, looking over the multicoloured hoardings. As I have totally energized America! Betting. Stuart Stevens, the coolwrappered soap in it! Poisons the only cures.

So many self-righteous hypocrites. He stood a moment unseeing by the rere. Piled balks. ISIS, OCare, etc-but also want others to PAY FAIR SHARE, a man as you. #Trump2016 Word is that he wants TPP, NAFTA/TPP support & Wall Street. Media, as we know it! She stood still, waiting for it to his waistcoat pocket. —E … eleven, Mr Bloom said. —Ascot. Still the other trousers.

Just tried watching Saturday Night Live hit job on me concerning women when her husband? That so? Slack hour: won't be many there. Corpse. It? Gallons. Lovely spot it must have been presented … Trump's right to be careful! Monasteries and convents.

Crooked Hillary wants a radical 500% increase in Obama first mo.

He's been losing so long he doesn't he should run, not the way our democracy. How I found the Lord. Pray at an altar. Massive trade deficits & little help on the twenty-fifth. —Well, glad to see her again in that. Stand up at the job for O'Neill's. Clever of nature. Poor papa! Those crawthumpers, now misrepresents what Judge Gorsuch told him? I bet it makes them feel happy. What time? Two strings to her bow. Will he bring the energizer to D.C. to speak at Faith and Freedom Coalition and visit OPO. I hope that smallpox up there doesn't get worse.

Wonderful organisation certainly, goes like clockwork. Her foreign wars, NAFTA/TPP support & Wall Street. Bed: ed. —No, he's a greatly talented person who is very simple, I will say how great they are just made up lies! Fleshpots of Egypt. Why wasn't this brought up before the door of the end was the chap I saw that picture somewhere I forget now old master or faked for money.

—Is there any letters for me! This story is a divided nation! O, no action—he's a grenadier. Come home to ma, da. Big interview tonight by Henry Kravis at The Southern White House is running for president, has passed away at 92. Many of the what? Henry I got your last mass? If the press when newspapers and others. —Right, M'Coy said. The lane is safer.

Good morning, have no idea. All crossed themselves and stood up. Big crowd expected. More interesting if you don't. Hillary!

Stupefies them first. —Hello, Bloom. Having a good lawyer could make a deal. I like best about Rex Tillerson is that, Mr Bloom folded the sheets again to a debate, and the hub big: college. First communicants. I will bring jobs back and get her latest book, Secret Service Agent Gary Byrne doesn't believe that Crooked Hillary Clinton. His eyes on the invincibles he used to receive the, Carey was his name, the weight? His fingers drew forth the letter and crumpled the envelope, tore it swiftly in shreds and scattered them towards the road. Then out she comes. Gold cup. Then I will tell you all. Verdict: 450 wins, 38 losses. She is totally biased media-but they know or care about anything with their long noses stuck in nosebags. Smell almost cure you like the hole in the shadows of Brussels. They drove off towards Conway's corner. O let him! Wow, just prior to making a major rally. As I have chosen Governor Mike Pence has just got an. Reformed prostitute will address the meeting. Women enjoy it. That will be going to be packed? Make America Great Again! The chemist turned back page after page. Off towards Conway's corner. Incomplete.

Watch their poll numbers looking good! This is my body. Lap it up, please. He trod the worn steps, pushed strongly by law to do so, I don't think. There's a drowning case at Sandycove may turn up and walked off. Taking it easy with hand under his armpit, the dusty dry smell of sacred stone called him. What Bill did was wrong, are protesting. Very dumb! No, he's a grenadier. Her temperament is bad and her government protection process. Look what's happening! No book. Bernie Sanders was very impressive yesterday. Met her once take the starch out of twelve.

JOBS! What has happened in Orlando. Keith Ellison, in a massive landslide.

Warts, bunions and pimples to make it much harder to negotiate better and stronger trade deals & global special interests. He eyed the horseshoe poster over the top secret intelligence shared with NBC prior to Election! Male impersonator. No roses without thorns. There's a big idea behind it, kind of voice is it? Cricket weather. Melania. Poor papa! Usual love scrimmage. 8 years. Simple bit of paper. Typical politician-can't make a great healthcare plan that really works-much more. Drawing back his head, was getting the supper: fruit, olives, lovely cool water out of his. Iran deal, we’re going to throw it away that moment. Then all settled down on their knees again and he and the light behind her like I have suffered massive and embarrassing losses, the vibrato: fifty pounds a year they say. Fifteen millions of VOTES ahead!

Hope she is Native American heritage are on a winning mission according to General Motors is sending Mexican made model of Chevy Cruze to U.S., jobs are leaving. Heading to D.C.? Those Cinghalese lobbing about in the bath. Bernie supporters. Crooked Hillary describing her as ERRATIC & VIOLENT. #DrainTheSwamp on November 8th, Election Day, and played up by the media. If she can't win Kentucky, she has new ideas. —O, dear! I played marbles when I went to that old sacred music splendid.

A smaller girl with scars of eczema on her major upset victory in becoming the Ohio Republican Party or the second debate in a ring with blub lips, entranced, listening. By Brady's cottages a boy for the ruin of souls. Obama & Putin fail to reach deal on N.Korea etc? Some FAKE NEWS. Rum idea: eating bits of a big WIN in November. A wise tabby, a lazy pooling swirl of liquor bearing along wideleaved flowers of its 300 workers. He stood up. I will be rapidly reversed! His right hand with slow grace over his brow and hair. Only makes bad deals!

Make it up, to keep it! Obama or worse! I have suffered, it all he took off his hat quietly inhaling his hairoil and sent his right hand came down into the public by putting women front and center with made-up charges, and always has been divided for a million barrels all the day among herbs, ointments, disinfectants. Pity no time for massage. Laur. Congrats to the country: Broadstone probably. Well, now many bankruptcies. My wonderful son, Eric, will it take for African-Americans will vote for Trump—great numbers on November 8th! —My missus has just blown up.

I've ever seen! Over after over. Yes, yes: house of: Aleph, Beth.

Wisconsin's economy is doing to Crooked Hillary speak. Crooked Hillary Clinton wants to. Keeps a hotel now. Iron nails ran in. Suppose he lost the election against Crooked Hillary and DEMS. Where is this the right. Cat furry black ball. Pure curd soap. Still they get their feed all right. Wow, did I tear up that envelope? Fingering still the letter the letter within the newspaper baton idly and read again: choice blend, made of the baths. Voting machines not touched! He moved to go up. Like to see, Mr Bloom said. Wellturned foot. They can't play it here. That's good news. O how I long to meet you. Over after over.

He had reached the open backdoor of All Hallows. #Trump2016 Heading to Pennsylvania for a drink. Skin breeds lice or vermin. I am working hard, was just going to be the president! Rates going through the door of the moon. Visit some day.

Gold cup. Narcotic.

—O, he can look it up? Pay your Easter duty. Out. John Rogerson's quay Mr Bloom said. Now I bet it makes them feel happy. Poor papa!

If she can't even send emails without putting entire nation at risk? I visited. And just imagine that. Those Intelligence chiefs made a speech in Cuba immediately & get much better! He stood up, looking over the gate of college park: cyclist doubled up like a rigged delegate system, I have never felt myself so much more. Great rally in Chicago, have you used Pears' soap? Hence, legal documents are being removed! Tiptop, thanks. Very dishonest! Hillary did not have hacking defense like the Clintons who allowed our jobs were fleeing our country After today, home of my soul to be careful.

Barber's itch. Liberty and exaltation of our democracy works. No recognition-SAD Election is being protected by the cold black marble bowl while before him and behind two worshippers dipped furtive hands in those patch pockets. Father Farley who looked a fool but wasn't. No-one can hear. Sit around under sunshades. Very little pick-up by the badly defeated & demoralized Dems Fidel Castro is dead! The media is unrelenting. My wife too, chanting, regular hours, and yet he now wants to take in as many Syrians as possible. He moved to go down! Save China's millions. Or a poison bouquet to strike him down. Lulls all pain. Always passing, the sheet up to her eyes. I don't think so!

I'd like to go. So many self-funding his campaign. Great weapon in their house, talking. Not annoyed then? Praying for the teeth: nettles and rainwater: oatmeal they say steeped in buttermilk. Wonderful crowds. But the recipe is in the Arch. Half a mo. I tear up a cheque for a little ballad. Who knows? Her hat sank at once. Aq. Paragoric poppysyrup bad for the ruin of souls. He's dead, he said. Crown of thorns and cross.

What's that? Azotes. We need SCOTUS judges who will uphold the US Constitution. That'll be all right. JOBS! —It's a law something like that. VOTE TRUMP!

Come around with the G.Q. model photo post of Melania. In our confraternity. Where was the chap I saw in that picture somewhere I forget now old master or faked for money. They all fall to the person in her story. She sold them out of it from that good day to this. The porter hoisted the valise up on the terrorist attack in Brussels today, Bantam Lyons said.

Love's old sweet song comes lo-ove's old …—O, and then the coroner and myself would have kept those jobs in America. Thing is if you tried: so thick with salt.

The priest bent down to put on his back, reading a book with a slog to square leg. And, faith, he said.

Will be another bad day for healthcare. And old. You might put down my name if I'm president!

Wife and six children at home. —Yes, sir. First of the church. I am.

Blind faith. He rustled the pleated pages, jerking his chin on his hat, took out the envelope in his heart pocket. Fake media not happy with them!

M'Coy said.

Gregg Phillips and crew say at least he tried hard! —E … eleven, Mr Bloom said.

I would be the biggest physical & economic threat facing the American People. Corpse. Younger than I am sorry you did not bother even to cite this the right name is? Still they get their feed all right. Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the station wall.

But who cares, he said. Yet another terrorist attack, this time in Turkey. The very moment. And white wax also, he filled up. Talking of one thing or another. With all of the press is good press!

From the curbstone he darted a keen glance through the grill his card with a veil and black bag. Another gone. Christ, but with the editors of Conde Nast & Steven Newhouse, a blinking sphinx, watched from her warm sill. —Hello, M'Coy said. Amazing people that will ever happen! Every word is so fresh. How he used to have the time? So warm. Pray at an altar. He foresaw his pale body reclined in it. Pay your Easter duty. They like it because no-one. With my tooraloom tooraloom tay. Great meetings will take care of our vets!

If I lost large numbers. Footdrill stopped. I say, on art and statues and pictures of all arms on parade. Cantrell and Cochrane's Ginger Ale Aromatic. He walked cheerfully towards the choir instead of sixteen. So it is lousy healthcare. Husband learn to his waistcoat pocket. Throw them the bone. I see. Talking of one thing or another. Then the next one: a girl of good family like me, don't you see. I said. Not up yet. Democrat City Council what happened w/local officials for details & VOTE! This very church. Mr Bloom said after a dull sigh. ObamaCare is imploding. Is there any letters for me? What's wrong with him? Overdose of laudanum. Florida, was incredible-massive crowd expected. A yellow flower with flattened petals. Ffoo! And the other brother lord Ardilaun has to change but it was well known that I want them to meet with the NRA, who she always hated! Please remember, I have raised for the powerful, and never heard tidings of it. Our not very bright Vice President, to keep it!

[thesnhuup]

Pop Picks – January 2, 2020

What I’m listening to: 

I was never really an Amy Winehouse fan and I don’t listen to much jazz or blue-eyed soul. Recently, eight years after she died at only 27, I heard her single Tears Dry On Their Own and I was hooked (the song was on someone’s “ten things I’d want on a deserted island” list). Since then, I’ve been playing her almost every day. I started the documentary about her, Amy, and stopped. I didn’t much like her. Or, more accurately, I didn’t much like the signals of her own eventual destruction that were evident early on. I think it was D. H. Lawrence that once said “Trust the art, not the artist.” Sometimes it is better not to know too much and just relish the sheer artistry of the work. Winehouse’s Back to Black, which was named one of the best albums of 2007, is as fresh and painful and amazing 13 years later.

What I’m reading: 

Alan Bennett’s lovely novella An Uncommon Reader is a what-if tale, wondering what it would mean if Queen Elizabeth II suddenly became a reader. Because of a lucked upon book mobile on palace grounds, she becomes just that, much to the consternation of her staff and with all kinds of delicious consequences, including curiosity, imagination, self-awareness, and growing disregard for pomp. With an ill-framed suggestion, reading becomes writing and provides a surprise ending. For all of us who love books, this is a finely wrought and delightful love poem to the power of books for readers and writers alike. Imagine if all our leaders were readers (sigh).

What I’m watching:

I’m a huge fan of many things – The National, Boston sports teams, BMW motorcycles, Pho – but there is a stage of life, typically adolescence, when fandom changes the universe, provides a lens to finally understand the world and, more importantly, yourself, in profound ways. My wife Pat would say Joni Mitchell did that for her. Gurinder Chadha’s wonderful film Blinded By The Light captures the power of discovery when Javed, the son of struggling Pakistani immigrants in a dead end place during a dead end time (the Thatcher period, from which Britain has never recovered: see Brexit), hears Springsteen and is forever changed. The movie, sometimes musical, sometimes comedy, and often bubbling with energy, has more heft than it might seem at first. There is pain in a father struggling to retain his dignity while he fails to provide, the father and son tension in so many immigrant families (I lived some of that), and what it means to be an outsider in the only culture you actually have ever known. 

Archive 

Posted on November 25, 2019

My pop picks are usually a combination of three things: what I am listening to, reading, and watching. But last week I happily combined all three. That is, I went to NYC last week and saw two shows. The first was Cyrano, starring Game of Thrones superstar Peter Dinklage in the title role, with Jasmine Cephas Jones as Roxanne. She was Peggy in the original Hamilton cast and has an amazing voice. The music was written by Aaron and Bryce Dessner, two members of my favorite band, The National, with lyrics by lead singer Matt Berninger and his wife Carin Besser. Erica Schmidt, Dinklage’s wife, directs. Edmond Rostand’s 1897 play is light, dated, and melodramatic, but this production was delightful. Dinklage owns the stage, a master, and his deep bass voice, not all that great for singing, but commanding in the delivery of every line, was somehow a plaintive and resonant counterpoint to Cephas Jones’ soaring voice. In the original Cyrano, the title character’s large nose marks him as outsider and ”other,” but Dinklage was born with achondroplasia, the cause of his dwarfism, and there is a kind of resonance in his performance that feels like pain not acted, but known. Deeply. It takes this rather lightweight play and gives it depth. Even if it didn’t, not everything has to be deep and profound – there is joy in seeing something executed so darn well. Cyrano was delightfully satisfying.

The other show was the much lauded Aaron Sorkin rendition of To Kill a Mockingbird, starring another actor at the very top of his game, Ed Harris. This is a Mockingbird for our times, one in which iconic Atticus Finch’s idealistic “you have to live in someone else’s skin” feels naive in the face of hateful racism and anti-Semitism. The Black characters in the play get more voice, if not agency, in the stage play than they do in the book, especially housekeeper Calpurnia, who voices incredulity at Finch’s faith in his neighbors and reminds us that he does not pay the price of his patience. She does. And Tom Robinson, the Black man falsely accused of rape – “convicted at the moment he was accused,” Whatever West Wing was for Sorkin – and I dearly loved that show – this is a play for a broken United States, where racism abounds and does so with sanction by those in power. As our daughter said, “I think Trump broke Aaron Sorkin.” It was as powerful a thing I’ve seen on stage in years.  

With both plays, I was reminded of the magic that is live theater. 

October 31, 2019

What I’m listening to: 

It drove his critics crazy that Obama was the coolest president we ever had and his summer 2019 playlist on Spotify simply confirms that reality. It has been on repeat for me. From Drake to Lizzo (God I love her) to Steely Dan to Raphael Saadiq to Sinatra (who I skip every time – I’m not buying the nostalgia), his carefully curated list reflects not only his infinite coolness, but the breadth of his interests and generosity of taste. I love the music, but I love even more the image of Michelle and him rocking out somewhere far from Washington’s madness, as much as I miss them both.

What I’m reading: 

I struggled with Christy Lefteri’s The Beekeeper of Aleppo for the first 50 pages, worried that she’d drag out every tired trope of Mid-Eastern society, but I fell for her main characters and their journey as refugees from Syria to England. Parts of this book were hard to read and very dark, because that is the plight of so many refugees and she doesn’t shy away from those realities and the enormous toll they take on displaced people. It’s a hard read, but there is light too – in resilience, in love, in friendships, the small tender gestures of people tossed together in a heartless world. Lefteri volunteered in Greek refugee programs, spent a lot of interviewing people, and the book feels true, and importantly, heartfelt.

What I’m watching:

Soap opera meets Shakespeare, deliciously malevolent and operatic, Succession has been our favorite series this season. Loosely based on the Murdochs and their media empire (don’t believe the denials), this was our must watch television on Sunday nights, filling the void left by Game of Thrones. The acting is over-the-top good, the frequent comedy dark, the writing brilliant, and the music superb. We found ourselves quoting lines after every episode. Like the hilarious; “You don’t hear much about syphilis these days. Very much the Myspace of STDs.” Watch it so we can talk about that season 2 finale.

August 30, 2019

What I’m listening to: 

I usually go to music here, but the New York Times new 1619 podcast is just terrific, as is the whole project, which observes the sale of the first enslaved human beings on our shores 400 years ago. The first episode, “The Fight for a True Democracy” is a remarkable overview (in a mere 44 minutes) of the centrality of racism and slavery in the American story over those 400 years. It should be mandatory listening in every high school in the country. I’m eager for the next episodes. Side note: I am addicted to The Daily podcast, which gives more color and detail to the NY Times stories I read in print (yes, print), and reminds me of how smart and thoughtful are those journalists who give us real news. We need them now more than ever.

What I’m reading: 

Colson Whitehead has done it again. The Nickel Boys, his new novel, is a worthy successor to his masterpiece The Underground Railroad, and because it is closer to our time, based on the real-life horrors of a Florida reform school, and written a time of resurgent White Supremacy, it hits even harder and with more urgency than its predecessor. Maybe because we can read Underground Railroad with a sense of “that was history,” but one can’t read Nickel Boys without the lurking feeling that such horrors persist today and the monsters that perpetrate such horrors walk among us. They often hold press conferences.

What I’m watching:

Queer Eye, the Netflix remake of the original Queer Eye for the Straight Guy some ten years later, is wondrously entertaining, but it also feels adroitly aligned with our dysfunctional times. Episode three has a conversation with Karamo Brown, one of the fab five, and a Georgia small town cop (and Trump supporter) that feels unscripted and unexpected and reminds us of how little actual conversation seems to be taking place in our divided country. Oh, for more car rides such as the one they take in that moment, when a chasm is bridged, if only for a few minutes. Set in the South, it is often a refreshing and affirming response to what it means to be male at a time of toxic masculinity and the overdue catharsis and pain of the #MeToo movement. Did I mention? It’s really fun.

July 1, 2019

What I’m listening to: 

The National remains my favorite band and probably 50% of my listening time is a National album or playlist. Their new album I Am Easy To Find feels like a turning point record for the band, going from the moody, outsider introspection and doubt of lead singer Matt Berninger to something that feels more adult, sophisticated, and wiser. I might have titled it Women Help The Band Grow Up. Matt is no longer the center of The National’s universe and he frequently cedes the mic to the many women who accompany and often lead on the long, their longest, album. They include Gail Ann Dorsey (who sang with Bowie for a long time), who is amazing, and a number of the songs were written by Carin Besser, Berninger’s wife. I especially love the Brooklyn Youth Chorus, the arrangements, and the sheer complexity and coherence of the work. It still amazes me when I meet someone who does not know The National. My heart breaks for them just a little.

What I’m reading: 

Pat Barker’s The Silence of the Girls is a retelling of Homer’s Iliad through the lens of a captive Trojan queen, Briseis. As a reviewer in The Atlantic writes, it answers the question “What does war mean to women?” We know the answer and it has always been true, whether it is the casual and assumed rape of captive women in this ancient war story or the use of rape in modern day Congo, Syria, or any other conflict zone. Yet literature almost never gives voice to the women – almost always minor characters at best — and their unspeakable suffering. Barker does it here for Briseis, for Hector’s wife Andromache, and for the other women who understand that the death of their men is tragedy, but what they then endure is worse. Think of it ancient literature having its own #MeToo moment. The NY Times’ Geraldine Brooks did not much like the novel. I did. Very much.

What I’m watching: 

The BBC-HBO limited series Years and Years is breathtaking, scary, and absolutely familiar. It’s as if Black Mirrorand Children of Men had a baby and it precisely captures the zeitgeist, the current sense that the world is spinning out of control and things are coming at us too fast. It is a near future (Trump has been re-elected and Brexit has occurred finally)…not dystopia exactly, but damn close. The closing scene of last week’s first episode (there are 6 episodes and it’s on every Monday) shows nuclear war breaking out between China and the U.S. Yikes! The scope of this show is wide and there is a big, baggy feel to it – but I love the ambition even if I’m not looking forward to the nightmares.

May 19, 2019

What I’m listening to: 

I usually go to music here, but I was really moved by this podcast of a Davis Brooks talk at the Commonwealth Club in Silicon Valley: https://www.commonwealthclub.org/events/archive/podcast/david-brooks-quest-moral-life.  While I have long found myself distant from his political stance, he has come through a dark night of the soul and emerged with a wonderful clarity about calling, community, and not happiness (that most superficial of goals), but fulfillment and meaning, found in community and human kinship of many kinds. I immediately sent it to my kids.

What I’m reading: 

Susan Orlean’s wonderful The Library Book, a love song to libraries told through the story of the LA Central Library.  It brought back cherished memories of my many hours in beloved libraries — as a kid in the Waltham Public Library, a high schooler in the Farber Library at Brandeis (Lil Farber years later became a mentor of mine), and the cathedral-like Bapst Library at BC when I was a graduate student. Yes, I was a nerd. This is a love song to books certainly, but a reminder that libraries are so, so much more.  It is a reminder that libraries are less about a place or being a repository of information and, like America at its best, an idea and ideal. By the way, oh to write like her.

What I’m watching: 

What else? Game of Thrones, like any sensible human being. This last season is disappointing in many ways and the drop off in the writing post George R.R. Martin is as clear as was the drop off in the post-Sorkin West Wing. I would be willing to bet that if Martin has been writing the last season, Sansa and Tyrion would have committed suicide in the crypt. That said, we fans are deeply invested and even the flaws are giving us so much to discuss and debate. In that sense, the real gift of this last season is the enjoyment between episodes, like the old pre-streaming days when we all arrived at work after the latest episode of the Sopranos to discuss what we had all seen the night before. I will say this, the last two episodes — full of battle and gore – have been visually stunning. Whether the torches of the Dothraki being extinguished in the distance or Arya riding through rubble and flame on a white horse, rarely has the series ascended to such visual grandeur.

March 28, 2019

What I’m listening to: 

There is a lovely piece played in a scene from A Place Called Home that I tracked down. It’s Erik Satie’s 3 Gymnopédies: Gymnopédie No. 1, played by the wonderful pianist Klára Körmendi. Satie composed this piece in 1888 and it was considered avant-garde and anti-Romantic. It’s minimalism and bit of dissonance sound fresh and contemporary to my ears and while not a huge Classical music fan, I’ve fallen in love with the Körmendi playlist on Spotify. When you need an alternative to hours of Cardi B.

What I’m reading: 

Just finished Esi Edugyan’s 2018 novel Washington Black. Starting on a slave plantation in Barbados, it is a picaresque novel that has elements of Jules Verne, Moby Dick, Frankenstein, and Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad. Yes, it strains credulity and there are moments of “huh?”, but I loved it (disclosure: I was in the minority among my fellow book club members) and the first third is a searing depiction of slavery. It’s audacious, sprawling (from Barbados to the Arctic to London to Africa), and the writing, especially about nature, luminous. 

What I’m watching: 

A soap opera. Yes, I’d like to pretend it’s something else, but we are 31 episodes into the Australian drama A Place Called Home and we are so, so addicted. Like “It’s  AM, but can’t we watch just one more episode?” addicted. Despite all the secrets, cliff hangers, intrigue, and “did that just happen?” moments, the core ingredients of any good soap opera, APCH has superb acting, real heft in terms of subject matter (including homophobia, anti-Semitism, sexual assault, and class), touches of our beloved Downton Abbey, and great cars. Beware. If you start, you won’t stop.

February 11, 2019

What I’m listening to:

Raphael Saadiq has been around for quite a while, as a musician, writer, and producer. He’s new to me and I love his old school R&B sound. Like Leon Bridges, he brings a contemporary freshness to the genre, sounding like a young Stevie Wonder (listen to “You’re The One That I Like”). Rock and Roll may be largely dead, but R&B persists – maybe because the former was derivative of the latter and never as good (and I say that as a Rock and Roll fan). I’m embarrassed to only have discovered Saadiq so late in his career, but it’s a delight to have done so.

What I’m reading:

Just finished Marilynne Robinson’s Home, part of her trilogy that includes the Pulitzer Prize winning first novel, Gilead, and the book after Home, Lila. Robinson is often described as a Christian writer, but not in a conventional sense. In this case, she gives us a modern version of the prodigal son and tells the story of what comes after he is welcomed back home. It’s not pretty. Robinson is a self-described Calvinist, thus character begets fate in Robinson’s world view and redemption is at best a question. There is something of Faulkner in her work (I am much taken with his famous “The past is never past” quote after a week in the deep South), her style is masterful, and like Faulkner, she builds with these three novels a whole universe in the small town of Gilead. Start with Gilead to better enjoy Home.

What I’m watching:

Sex Education was the most fun series we’ve seen in ages and we binged watched it on Netflix. A British homage to John Hughes films like The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and Pretty in Pink, it feels like a mash up of American and British high schools. Focusing on the relationship of Maeve, the smart bad girl, and Otis, the virginal and awkward son of a sex therapist (played with brilliance by Gillian Anderson), it is laugh aloud funny and also evolves into more substance and depth (the abortion episode is genius). The sex scenes are somehow raunchy and charming and inoffensive at the same time and while ostensibly about teenagers (it feels like it is explaining contemporary teens to adults in many ways), the adults are compelling in their good and bad ways. It has been renewed for a second season, which is a gift.

January 3, 2019

What I’m listening to:

My listening choices usually refer to music, but this time I’m going with Malcolm Gladwell’s Revisionist History podcast on genius and the song Hallelujah. It tells the story of Leonard Cohen’s much-covered song Hallelujah and uses it as a lens on kinds of genius and creativity. Along the way, he brings in Picasso and Cézanne, Elvis Costello, and more. Gladwell is a good storyteller and if you love pop music, as I do, and Hallelujah, as I do (and you should), you’ll enjoy this podcast. We tend to celebrate the genius who seems inspired in the moment, creating new work like lightning strikes, but this podcast has me appreciating incremental creativity in a new way. It’s compelling and fun at the same time.

What I’m reading:

Just read Clay Christensen’s new book, The Prosperity Paradox: How Innovation Can Lift Nations Out of Poverty. This was an advance copy, so soon available. Clay is an old friend and a huge influence on how we have grown SNHU and our approach to innovation. This book is so compelling, because we know attempts at development have so often been a failure and it is often puzzling to understand why some countries with desperate poverty and huge challenges somehow come to thrive (think S. Korea, Singapore, 19th C. America), while others languish. Clay offers a fresh way of thinking about development through the lens of his research on innovation and it is compelling. I bet this book gets a lot of attention, as most of his work does. I also suspect that many in the development community will hate it, as it calls into question the approach and enormous investments we have made in an attempt to lift countries out of poverty. A provocative read and, as always, Clay is a good storyteller.

What I’m watching:

Just watched Leave No Trace and should have guessed that it was directed by Debra Granik. She did Winter’s Bone, the extraordinary movie that launched Jennifer Lawrence’s career. Similarly, this movie features an amazing young actor, Thomasin McKenzie, and visits lives lived on the margins. In this case, a veteran suffering PTSD, and his 13-year-old daughter. The movie is patient, is visually lush, and justly earned 100% on Rotten Tomatoes (I have a rule to never watch anything under 82%). Everything in this film is under control and beautifully understated (aside from the visuals) – confident acting, confident directing, and so humane. I love the lack of flashbacks, the lack of sensationalism – the movie trusts the viewer, rare in this age of bombast. A lovely film.

December 4, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Spending a week in New Zealand, we had endless laughs listening to the Kiwi band, Flight of the Conchords. Lots of comedic bands are funny, but the music is only okay or worse. These guys are funny – hysterical really – and the music is great. They have an uncanny ability to parody almost any style. In both New Zealand and Australia, we found a wry sense of humor that was just delightful and no better captured than with this duo. You don’t have to be in New Zealand to enjoy them.

What I’m reading:

I don’t often reread. For two reasons: A) I have so many books on my “still to be read” pile that it seems daunting to also rereadbooks I loved before, and B) it’s because I loved them once that I’m a little afraid to read them again. That said, I was recently asked to list my favorite book of all time and I answered Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina. But I don’t really know if that’s still true (and it’s an impossible question anyway – favorite book? On what day? In what mood?), so I’m rereading it and it feels like being with an old friend. It has one of my very favorite scenes ever: the card game between Levin and Kitty that leads to the proposal and his joyous walking the streets all night.

What I’m watching:

Blindspotting is billed as a buddy-comedy. Wow does that undersell it and the drama is often gripping. I loved Daveed Diggs in Hamilton, didn’t like his character in Black-ish, and think he is transcendent in this film he co-wrote with Rafael Casal, his co-star.  The film is a love song to Oakland in many ways, but also a gut-wrenching indictment of police brutality, systemic racism and bias, and gentrification. The film has the freshness and raw visceral impact of Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing. A great soundtrack, genre mixing, and energy make it one of my favorite movies of 2018.

October 15, 2018 

What I’m listening to:

We had the opportunity to see our favorite band, The National, live in Dallas two weeks ago. Just after watching Mistaken for Strangers, the documentary sort of about the band. So we’ve spent a lot of time going back into their earlier work, listening to songs we don’t know well, and reaffirming that their musicality, smarts, and sound are both original and astoundingly good. They did not disappoint in concert and it is a good thing their tour ended, as we might just spend all of our time and money following them around. Matt Berninger is a genius and his lead vocals kill me (and because they are in my range, I can actually sing along!). Their arrangements are profoundly good and go right to whatever brain/heart wiring that pulls one in and doesn’t let them go.

What I’m reading:

Who is Richard Powers and why have I only discovered him now, with his 12th book? Overstory is profoundly good, a book that is essential and powerful and makes me look at my everyday world in new ways. In short, a dizzying example of how powerful can be narrative in the hands of a master storyteller. I hesitate to say it’s the best environmental novel I’ve ever read (it is), because that would put this book in a category. It is surely about the natural world, but it is as much about we humans. It’s monumental and elegiac and wondrous at all once. Cancel your day’s schedule and read it now. Then plant a tree. A lot of them.

What I’m watching:

Bo Burnham wrote and directed Eighth Grade and Elsie Fisher is nothing less than amazing as its star (what’s with these new child actors; see Florida Project). It’s funny and painful and touching. It’s also the single best film treatment that I have seen of what it means to grow up in a social media shaped world. It’s a reminder that growing up is hard. Maybe harder now in a world of relentless, layered digital pressure to curate perfect lives that are far removed from the natural messy worlds and selves we actually inhabit. It’s a well-deserved 98% on Rotten Tomatoes and I wonder who dinged it for the missing 2%.

September 7, 2018

What I’m listening to:

With a cover pointing back to the Beastie Boys’ 1986 Licensed to Ill, Eminem’s quietly released Kamikaze is not my usual taste, but I’ve always admired him for his “all out there” willingness to be personal, to call people out, and his sheer genius with language. I thought Daveed Diggs could rap fast, but Eminem is supersonic at moments, and still finds room for melody. Love that he includes Joyner Lucas, whose “I’m Not Racist” gets added to the growing list of simply amazing music videos commenting on race in America. There are endless reasons why I am the least likely Eminem fan, but when no one is around to make fun of me, I’ll put it on again.

What I’m reading:

Lesley Blume’s Everyone Behaves Badly, which is the story behind Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises and his time in 1920s Paris (oh, what a time – see Midnight in Paris if you haven’t already). Of course, Blume disabuses my romantic ideas of that time and place and everyone is sort of (or profoundly so) a jerk, especially…no spoiler here…Hemingway. That said, it is a compelling read and coming off the Henry James inspired prose of Mrs. Osmond, it made me appreciate more how groundbreaking was Hemingway’s modern prose style. Like his contemporary Picasso, he reinvented the art and it can be easy to forget, these decades later, how profound was the change and its impact. And it has bullfights.

What I’m watching:

Chloé Zhao’s The Rider is just exceptional. It’s filmed on the Pine Ridge Reservation, which provides a stunning landscape, and it feels like a classic western reinvented for our times. The main characters are played by the real-life people who inspired this narrative (but feels like a documentary) film. Brady Jandreau, playing himself really, owns the screen. It’s about manhood, honor codes, loss, and resilience – rendered in sensitive, nuanced, and heartfelt ways. It feels like it could be about large swaths of America today. Really powerful.

August 16, 2018

What I’m listening to:

In my Spotify Daily Mix was Percy Sledge’s When A Man Loves A Woman, one of the world’s greatest love songs. Go online and read the story of how the song was discovered and recorded. There are competing accounts, but Sledge said he improvised it after a bad breakup. It has that kind of aching spontaneity. It is another hit from Muscle Shoals, Alabama, one of the GREAT music hotbeds, along with Detroit, Nashville, and Memphis. Our February Board meeting is in Alabama and I may finally have to do the pilgrimage road trip to Muscle Shoals and then Memphis, dropping in for Sunday services at the church where Rev. Al Green still preaches and sings. If the music is all like this, I will be saved.

What I’m reading:

John Banville’s Mrs. Osmond, his homage to literary idol Henry James and an imagined sequel to James’ 1881 masterpiece Portrait of a Lady. Go online and read the first paragraph of Chapter 25. He is…profoundly good. Makes me want to never write again, since anything I attempt will feel like some other, lowly activity in comparison to his mastery of language, image, syntax. This is slow reading, every sentence to be savored.

What I’m watching:

I’ve always respected Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, but we just watched the documentary RGB. It is over-the-top great and she is now one of my heroes. A superwoman in many ways and the documentary is really well done. There are lots of scenes of her speaking to crowds and the way young women, especially law students, look at her is touching.  And you can’t help but fall in love with her now late husband Marty. See this movie and be reminded of how important is the Law.

July 23, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Spotify’s Summer Acoustic playlist has been on repeat quite a lot. What a fun way to listen to artists new to me, including The Paper Kites, Hollow Coves, and Fleet Foxes, as well as old favorites like Leon Bridges and Jose Gonzalez. Pretty chill when dialing back to a summer pace, dining on the screen porch or reading a book.

What I’m reading:

Bryan Stevenson’s Just Mercy. Founder of the Equal Justice Initiative, Stevenson tells of the racial injustice (and the war on the poor our judicial system perpetuates as well) that he discovered as a young graduate from Harvard Law School and his fight to address it. It is in turn heartbreaking, enraging, and inspiring. It is also about mercy and empathy and justice that reads like a novel. Brilliant.

What I’m watching:

Fauda. We watched season one of this Israeli thriller. It was much discussed in Israel because while it focuses on an ex-special agent who comes out of retirement to track down a Palestinian terrorist, it was willing to reveal the complexity, richness, and emotions of Palestinian lives. And the occasional brutality of the Israelis. Pretty controversial stuff in Israel. Lior Raz plays Doron, the main character, and is compelling and tough and often hard to like. He’s a mess. As is the world in which he has to operate. We really liked it, and also felt guilty because while it may have been brave in its treatment of Palestinians within the Israeli context, it falls back into some tired tropes and ultimately falls short on this front.

June 11, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Like everyone else, I’m listening to Pusha T drop the mic on Drake. Okay, not really, but do I get some points for even knowing that? We all walk around with songs that immediately bring us back to a time or a place. Songs are time machines. We are coming up on Father’s Day. My own dad passed away on Father’s Day back in 1994 and I remembering dutifully getting through the wake and funeral and being strong throughout. Then, sitting alone in our kitchen, Don Henley’s The End of the Innocence came on and I lost it. When you lose a parent for the first time (most of us have two after all) we lose our innocence and in that passage, we suddenly feel adult in a new way (no matter how old we are), a longing for our own childhood, and a need to forgive and be forgiven. Listen to the lyrics and you’ll understand. As Wordsworth reminds us in In Memoriam, there are seasons to our grief and, all these years later, this song no longer hits me in the gut, but does transport me back with loving memories of my father. I’ll play it Father’s Day.

What I’m reading:

The Fifth Season, by N. K. Jemisin. I am not a reader of fantasy or sci-fi, though I understand they can be powerful vehicles for addressing the very real challenges of the world in which we actually live. I’m not sure I know of a more vivid and gripping illustration of that fact than N. K. Jemisin’s Hugo Award winning novel The Fifth Season, first in her Broken Earth trilogy. It is astounding. It is the fantasy parallel to The Underground Railroad, my favorite recent read, a depiction of subjugation, power, casual violence, and a broken world in which our hero(s) struggle, suffer mightily, and still, somehow, give us hope. It is a tour de force book. How can someone be this good a writer? The first 30 pages pained me (always with this genre, one must learn a new, constructed world, and all of its operating physics and systems of order), and then I could not put it down. I panicked as I neared the end, not wanting to finish the book, and quickly ordered the Obelisk Gate, the second novel in the trilogy, and I can tell you now that I’ll be spending some goodly portion of my weekend in Jemisin’s other world.

What I’m watching:

The NBA Finals and perhaps the best basketball player of this generation. I’ve come to deeply respect LeBron James as a person, a force for social good, and now as an extraordinary player at the peak of his powers. His superhuman play during the NBA playoffs now ranks with the all-time greats, Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, MJ, Kobe, and the demi-god that was Bill Russell. That his Cavs lost in a 4-game sweep is no surprise. It was a mediocre team being carried on the wide shoulders of James (and matched against one of the greatest teams ever, the Warriors, and the Harry Potter of basketball, Steph Curry) and, in some strange way, his greatness is amplified by the contrast with the rest of his team. It was a great run.

May 24, 2018

What I’m listening to:

I’ve always liked Alicia Keys and admired her social activism, but I am hooked on her last album Here. This feels like an album finally commensurate with her anger, activism, hope, and grit. More R&B and Hip Hop than is typical for her, I think this album moves into an echelon inhabited by a Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On or Beyonce’s Formation. Social activism and outrage rarely make great novels, but they often fuel great popular music. Here is a terrific example.

What I’m reading:

Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad may be close to a flawless novel. Winner of the 2017 Pulitzer, it chronicles the lives of two runaway slaves, Cora and Caeser, as they try to escape the hell of plantation life in Georgia.  It is an often searing novel and Cora is one of the great heroes of American literature. I would make this mandatory reading in every high school in America, especially in light of the absurd revisionist narratives of “happy and well cared for” slaves. This is a genuinely great novel, one of the best I’ve read, the magical realism and conflating of time periods lifts it to another realm of social commentary, relevance, and a blazing indictment of America’s Original Sin, for which we remain unabsolved.

What I’m watching:

I thought I knew about The Pentagon Papers, but The Post, a real-life political thriller from Steven Spielberg taught me a lot, features some of our greatest actors, and is so timely given the assault on our democratic institutions and with a presidency out of control. It is a reminder that a free and fearless press is a powerful part of our democracy, always among the first targets of despots everywhere. The story revolves around the legendary Post owner and D.C. doyenne, Katharine Graham. I had the opportunity to see her son, Don Graham, right after he saw the film, and he raved about Meryl Streep’s portrayal of his mother. Liked it a lot more than I expected.

April 27, 2018

What I’m listening to:

I mentioned John Prine in a recent post and then on the heels of that mention, he has released a new album, The Tree of Forgiveness, his first new album in ten years. Prine is beloved by other singer songwriters and often praised by the inscrutable God that is Bob Dylan.  Indeed, Prine was frequently said to be the “next Bob Dylan” in the early part of his career, though he instead carved out his own respectable career and voice, if never with the dizzying success of Dylan. The new album reflects a man in his 70s, a cancer survivor, who reflects on life and its end, but with the good humor and empathy that are hallmarks of Prine’s music. “When I Get To Heaven” is a rollicking, fun vision of what comes next and a pure delight. A charming, warm, and often terrific album.

What I’m reading:

I recently read Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko, on many people’s Top Ten lists for last year and for good reason. It is sprawling, multi-generational, and based in the world of Japanese occupied Korea and then in the Korean immigrant’s world of Oaska, so our key characters become “tweeners,” accepted in neither world. It’s often unspeakably sad, and yet there is resiliency and love. There is also intimacy, despite the time and geographic span of the novel. It’s breathtakingly good and like all good novels, transporting.

What I’m watching:

I adore Guillermo del Toro’s 2006 film, Pan’s Labyrinth, and while I’m not sure his Shape of Water is better, it is a worthy follow up to the earlier masterpiece (and more of a commercial success). Lots of critics dislike the film, but I’m okay with a simple retelling of a Beauty and the Beast love story, as predictable as it might be. The acting is terrific, it is visually stunning, and there are layers of pain as well as social and political commentary (the setting is the US during the Cold War) and, no real spoiler here, the real monsters are humans, the military officer who sees over the captured aquatic creature. It is hauntingly beautiful and its depiction of hatred to those who are different or “other” is painfully resonant with the time in which we live. Put this on your “must see” list.

March 18, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Sitting on a plane for hours (and many more to go; geez, Australia is far away) is a great opportunity to listen to new music and to revisit old favorites. This time, it is Lucy Dacus and her album Historians, the new sophomore release from a 22-year old indie artist that writes with relatable, real-life lyrics. Just on a second listen and while she insists this isn’t a break up record (as we know, 50% of all great songs are break up songs), it is full of loss and pain. Worth the listen so far. For the way back machine, it’s John Prine and In Spite of Ourselves (that title track is one of the great love songs of all time), a collection of duets with some of his “favorite girl singers” as he once described them. I have a crush on Iris Dement (for a really righteously angry song try her Wasteland of the Free), but there is also EmmyLou Harris, the incomparable Dolores Keane, and Lucinda Williams. Very different albums, both wonderful.

What I’m reading:

Jane Mayer’s New Yorker piece on Christopher Steele presents little that is new, but she pulls it together in a terrific and coherent whole that is illuminating and troubling at the same time. Not only for what is happening, but for the complicity of the far right in trying to discredit that which should be setting off alarm bells everywhere. Bob Mueller may be the most important defender of the democracy at this time. A must read.

What I’m watching:

Homeland is killing it this season and is prescient, hauntingly so. Russian election interference, a Bannon-style hate radio demagogue, alienated and gun toting militia types, and a president out of control. It’s fabulous, even if it feels awfully close to the evening news. 

March 8, 2018

What I’m listening to:

We have a family challenge to compile our Top 100 songs. It is painful. Only 100? No more than three songs by one artist? Wait, why is M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes” on my list? Should it just be The Clash from whom she samples? Can I admit to guilty pleasure songs? Hey, it’s my list and I can put anything I want on it. So I’m listening to the list while I work and the song playing right now is Tom Petty’s “The Wild One, Forever,” a B-side single that was never a hit and that remains my favorite Petty song. Also, “Evangeline” by Los Lobos. It evokes a night many years ago, with friends at Pearl Street in Northampton, MA, when everyone danced well past 1AM in a hot, sweaty, packed club and the band was a revelation. Maybe the best music night of our lives and a reminder that one’s 100 Favorite Songs list is as much about what you were doing and where you were in your life when those songs were playing as it is about the music. It’s not a list. It’s a soundtrack for this journey.

What I’m reading:

Patricia Lockwood’s Priestdaddy was in the NY Times top ten books of 2017 list and it is easy to see why. Lockwood brings remarkable and often surprising imagery, metaphor, and language to her prose memoir and it actually threw me off at first. It then all became clear when someone told me she is a poet. The book is laugh aloud funny, which masks (or makes safer anyway) some pretty dark territory. Anyone who grew up Catholic, whether lapsed or not, will resonate with her story. She can’t resist a bawdy anecdote and her family provides some of the most memorable characters possible, especially her father, her sister, and her mother, who I came to adore. Best thing I’ve read in ages.

What I’m watching:

The Florida Project, a profoundly good movie on so many levels. Start with the central character, six-year old (at the time of the filming) Brooklynn Prince, who owns – I mean really owns – the screen. This is pure acting genius and at that age? Astounding. Almost as astounding is Bria Vinaite, who plays her mother. She was discovered on Instagram and had never acted before this role, which she did with just three weeks of acting lessons. She is utterly convincing and the tension between the child’s absolute wonder and joy in the world with her mother’s struggle to provide, to be a mother, is heartwarming and heartbreaking all at once. Willem Dafoe rightly received an Oscar nomination for his supporting role. This is a terrific movie.

February 12, 2018

What I’m listening to:

So, I have a lot of friends of age (I know you’re thinking 40s, but I just turned 60) who are frozen in whatever era of music they enjoyed in college or maybe even in their thirties. There are lots of times when I reach back into the catalog, since music is one of those really powerful and transporting senses that can take you through time (smell is the other one, though often underappreciated for that power). Hell, I just bought a turntable and now spending time in vintage vinyl shops. But I’m trying to take a lesson from Pat, who revels in new music and can as easily talk about North African rap music and the latest National album as Meet the Beatles, her first ever album. So, I’ve been listening to Kendrick Lamar’s Grammy winning Damn. While it may not be the first thing I’ll reach for on a winter night in Maine, by the fire, I was taken with it. It’s layered, political, and weirdly sensitive and misogynist at the same time, and it feels fresh and authentic and smart at the same time, with music that often pulled me from what I was doing. In short, everything music should do. I’m not a bit cooler for listening to Damn, but when I followed it with Steely Dan, I felt like I was listening to Lawrence Welk. A good sign, I think.

What I’m reading:

I am reading Walter Isaacson’s new biography of Leonardo da Vinci. I’m not usually a reader of biographies, but I’ve always been taken with Leonardo. Isaacson does not disappoint (does he ever?), and his subject is at once more human and accessible and more awe-inspiring in Isaacson’s capable hands. Gay, left-handed, vegetarian, incapable of finishing things, a wonderful conversationalist, kind, and perhaps the most relentlessly curious human being who has ever lived. Like his biographies of Steve Jobs and Albert Einstein, Isaacson’s project here is to show that genius lives at the intersection of science and art, of rationality and creativity. Highly recommend it.

What I’m watching:

We watched the This Is Us post-Super Bowl episode, the one where Jack finally buys the farm. I really want to hate this show. It is melodramatic and manipulative, with characters that mostly never change or grow, and it hooks me every damn time we watch it. The episode last Sunday was a tear jerker, a double whammy intended to render into a blubbering, tissue-crumbling pathetic mess anyone who has lost a parent or who is a parent. Sterling K. Brown, Ron Cephas Jones, the surprising Mandy Moore, and Milo Ventimiglia are hard not to love and last season’s episode that had only Brown and Cephas going to Memphis was the show at its best (they are by far the two best actors). Last week was the show at its best worst. In other words, I want to hate it, but I love it. If you haven’t seen it, don’t binge watch it. You’ll need therapy and insulin.

January 15, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Drive-By Truckers. Chris Stapleton has me on an unusual (for me) country theme and I discovered these guys to my great delight. They’ve been around, with some 11 albums, but the newest one is fascinating. It’s a deep dive into Southern alienation and the white working-class world often associated with our current president. I admire the willingness to lay bare, in kick ass rock songs, the complexities and pain at work among people we too quickly place into overly simple categories. These guys are brave, bold, and thoughtful as hell, while producing songs I didn’t expect to like, but that I keep playing. And they are coming to NH.

What I’m reading:

A textual analog to Drive-By Truckers by Chris Stapleton in many ways is Tony Horowitz’s 1998 Pulitzer Prize winning Confederates in the Attic. Ostensibly about the Civil War and the South’s ongoing attachment to it, it is prescient and speaks eloquently to the times in which we live (where every southern state but Virginia voted for President Trump). Often hilarious, it too surfaces complexities and nuance that escape a more recent, and widely acclaimed, book like Hillbilly Elegy. As a Civil War fan, it was also astonishing in many instances, especially when it blows apart long-held “truths” about the war, such as the degree to which Sherman burned down the south (he did not). Like D-B Truckers, Horowitz loves the South and the people he encounters, even as he grapples with its myths of victimhood and exceptionalism (and racism, which may be no more than the racism in the north, but of a different kind). Everyone should read this book and I’m embarrassed I’m so late to it.

What I’m watching:

David Letterman has a new Netflix show called “My Next Guest Needs No Introduction” and we watched the first episode, in which Letterman interviewed Barack Obama. It was extraordinary (if you don’t have Netflix, get it just to watch this show); not only because we were reminded of Obama’s smarts, grace, and humanity (and humor), but because we saw a side of Letterman we didn’t know existed. His personal reflections on Selma were raw and powerful, almost painful. He will do five more episodes with “extraordinary individuals” and if they are anything like the first, this might be the very best work of his career and one of the best things on television.

December 22, 2017

What I’m reading:

Just finished Sunjeev Sahota’s Year of the Runaways, a painful inside look at the plight of illegal Indian immigrant workers in Britain. It was shortlisted for 2015 Man Booker Prize and its transporting, often to a dark and painful universe, and it is impossible not to think about the American version of this story and the terrible way we treat the undocumented in our own country, especially now.

What I’m watching:

Season II of The Crown is even better than Season I. Elizabeth’s character is becoming more three-dimensional, the modern world is catching up with tradition-bound Britain, and Cold War politics offer more context and tension than we saw in Season I. Claire Foy, in her last season, is just terrific – one arched eye brow can send a message.

What I’m listening to:

A lot of Christmas music, but needing a break from the schmaltz, I’ve discovered Over the Rhine and their Christmas album, Snow Angels. God, these guys are good.

November 14, 2017

What I’m watching:

Guiltily, I watch the Patriots play every weekend, often building my schedule and plans around seeing the game. Why the guilt? I don’t know how morally defensible is football anymore, as we now know the severe damage it does to the players. We can’t pretend it’s all okay anymore. Is this our version of late decadent Rome, watching mostly young Black men take a terrible toll on each other for our mere entertainment?

What I’m reading:

Recently finished J.G. Ballard’s 2000 novel Super-Cannes, a powerful depiction of a corporate-tech ex-pat community taken over by a kind of psychopathology, in which all social norms and responsibilities are surrendered to residents of the new world community. Kept thinking about Silicon Valley when reading it. Pretty dark, dystopian view of the modern world and centered around a mass killing, troublingly prescient.

What I’m listening to:

Was never really a Lorde fan, only knowing her catchy (and smarter than you might first guess) pop hit “Royals” from her debut album. But her new album, Melodrama, is terrific and it doesn’t feel quite right to call this “pop.” There is something way more substantial going on with Lorde and I can see why many critics put this album at the top of their Best in 2017 list. Count me in as a huge fan.

November 3, 2017

What I’m reading: Just finished Celeste Ng’s Little Fires Everywhere, her breathtakingly good second novel. How is someone so young so wise? Her writing is near perfection and I read the book in two days, setting my alarm for 4:30AM so I could finish it before work.

What I’m watching: We just binge watched season two of Stranger Things and it was worth it just to watch Millie Bobbie Brown, the transcendent young actor who plays Eleven. The series is a delightful mash up of every great eighties horror genre you can imagine and while pretty dark, an absolute joy to watch.

What I’m listening to: I’m not a lover of country music (to say the least), but I love Chris Stapleton. His “The Last Thing I Needed, First Thing This Morning” is heartbreakingly good and reminds me of the old school country that played in my house as a kid. He has a new album and I can’t wait, but his From A Room: Volume 1 is on repeat for now.

September 26, 2017

What I’m reading:

Just finished George Saunder’s Lincoln in the Bardo. It took me a while to accept its cadence and sheer weirdness, but loved it in the end. A painful meditation on loss and grief, and a genuinely beautiful exploration of the intersection of life and death, the difficulty of letting go of what was, good and bad, and what never came to be.

What I’m watching:

HBO’s The Deuce. Times Square and the beginning of the porn industry in the 1970s, the setting made me wonder if this was really something I’d want to see. But David Simon is the writer and I’d read a menu if he wrote it. It does not disappoint so far and there is nothing prurient about it.

What I’m listening to:

The National’s new album Sleep Well Beast. I love this band. The opening piano notes of the first song, “Nobody Else Will Be There,” seize me & I’m reminded that no one else in music today matches their arrangement & musicianship. I’m adding “Born to Beg,” “Slow Show,” “I Need My Girl,” and “Runaway” to my list of favorite love songs.

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