#Of fucking course “Bob” originates from england.

[i-drew-artz]

Isnt it funny how other countries have badass awesome names like "Kenji", "Wolfgang", "Mikhail", and "Joaquin".

Then the english have names like fuckin bob, charlie, moe, and harry.

[no-reply95]

Get Back: Part 3 - Stand Out Moments

Ringo asking George if he's heard "the Octopus One" before launching into Octopus' Garden for the first time

George Martin beaming and humming along to Octopus' Garden

John saying that Paul would want to play drums because of "his strong left arm..."

Finally getting visuals of the cat conversation between Heather and John

Heather unintentionally twinning with her new dad's husband Ringo

The look of confusion on Heather's face when Yoko starts singing followed quickly by Heather paying homage to Yoko's singing style, while sat between John and Yoko - the OG Plastic Ono Band!

Mal dancing with Heather!

Linda watching calmly while Paul almost sends Heather flying through the roof

HDYS percolating in John's mind while Paul tells him that he's playing too many notes on The Long and Winding Road

George's warbling The Long and Winding Road

Paul and George's beautiful harmonies on The Long and Winding Road

Heather finally breaking and giving Paul the grooming he's been crying out for

George's stripped pink suit!

John and Paul dancing together like they're drunk in the control room

Paul drumming along to Old Brown Shoe and George smiling at his enthusiasm

"Course coming from the North of England, it doesn't come through easy, you know? All the soul." said Paul in his most affected Northern accent ever

Paul giving up on The Long and Winding Road while John looks on concerned

"Thank you George", "You're welcome"

John telling Paul, and only Paul, that he's just heard that Yoko's divorce has gone through right in the middle of Oh! Darling

The Bottles taking over the Beatles' instruments and having a quick jam

Paul reading the article about John and Yoko while John, especially, pisses himself laughing

Paul singing Strawberry Fields at the piano while John gently plays the guitar

"You do realise this tape is costing you 2 shillings a foot?" "Send the cheque to EMI" - George being the frugal Beatle strikes again!

Paul asking Mal *jokingly* if he wants his head kicked in when he suggests they can always return to rehearsing Get Back

The infamous gum incident

Everyone laughing at Paul when he's told his bass is out - Paul is not amused

Ringo side hugging Paul and Paul gently touching his hand to Ringo's in response - be still my heart :')

George's "I'll do Ringo at 1.30" after Paul says he and Johnboth have something at 1.30

Glyn Johns walking into the studio in a Hugh Hefner-esque jacket

Conversation between John and George regarding John's meeting with Klein

Was Biafra going to be the original Bangladesh???

John, George, Ringo and Billy playing with the mini organ toy

John and Paul teasing George when he's distracted as they're about to do a take ("Krishna Chronicle", "Krishna Christmas Club")

John threatening George Martin with the Bob Wooler incident while simultaneously slamming his guitar on the floor

First group meeting between the Beatles and Allen Klein - ominous music plays

The conversation between John, Ringo and Glyn about Klein's character, with Glyn really voicing his concerns about him

Ringo's deadpan, "I've just farted" and George Martin's equally deadpan response of "Thank you"

There was meant to be a White Album TV show instead?!!

Mike McCartney casually playing air piano in his shiny new coat

"Fuck all that, I'm just gonna do me for a bit" - Go off George!

Clenched teeth take of Two of Us

George Martin strutting into Apple like the DILF he is

Paul jumping on the roof like he has a death wish - very Part 2 of him

The instinctual smile between John and Paul after the first full take of Get Back

George laughing at John when he messes up the lyrics to Don't Let Me Down then Paul looking at John to steady him

The camera zooming into the policeman's face when John sings "Everyone had a wet dream"

"Do you know what music you're listening to?" "The Beatles, obviously..." - Me 50 years ago

"The Beatles get around" - understatement of the century

"You wouldn't mind your daughter going out with a Beatle?" "I wouldn't mind no, cause they've got money"

"Rock and roll!!!" "You too!!!"

George putting his amp back on after Mal turned it off

"You've been playing on the roof and your mummy's getting angry, she'll have you arrested" - Paul living through his fantasy of getting arrested

George making plans to take over London - one roof at a time!

John stripping seductively for the camera and Yoko redressing him

Mo getting her life to One After 909

Paul, Linda and their husband Ringo holding hands

John singing Run For Your Life right next to Yoko - the feminism hadn't stuck quite yet

"Okay Jim?" - Was that John calling Paul "Jim?!!!"

"What the shitting hell is going on here?"

German interlude between John and Paul, because why not? - George enjoyed it!

John mouthing along to Let It Be - the version that ended up on the final album too!

[inayashafiq8]

Inspirational Artists/Work

Bob Carlos Clarke’s collaboration with chef Marco Pierre White

Bob Carlos Clarke was a legendary British-Irish photographer of the 90s who made erotic images of women as well as documentary, portrait and commercial photography. 

During his illustrious 30 year career as a photographer, his biggest commercial success came with his friend Marco Pierre White. His study of Harveys' kitchen in the late 1980s focussed not on the dishes but on the cleavers and sweat that created them, setting the tone for the hard-living tormented celebrity chef and helping the book White Heat to the bestsellers.

Marco Pierre White with photographer Bob Carlos Clarke

The White Heat cookbook, published in 1990, featured recipes by Marco Pierre White alongside photographs of White by Carlos Clarke. The photographer hung out at Harvey’s, Marco Pierre White’s restaurant, for a year or so taking photographs on his 35mm Polapan. The book is cited today as having influenced the careers of several Michelin starred and celebrity chefs and has been described by one critic as “possible the most influential recipe book of the last 20 years”.

With a grey shark, shot in photographer Bob Carlos Clarke’s back garden, 1991

Greeting diners in his restaurant, Harveys, in Wandsworth, London, 1990.

Bob Carlos Clarke, highly regarded photographer, became a fixture in the kitchen. “It was a tiny space,” says chef Stephen Terry who was part of the original Harveys brigade alongside Gordon Ramsay and Phil Howard. “Carlos Clarke was a lovely man but he was always getting in the fucking way.” What emerged from those shoots was a portfolio of iconic, grainy black and white shots which captured a moment. 

It helped, of course that back then, White had cheekbones so sharp you could slice your hand on them. Plus, he was more than ready to step up to the role of chef as rockstar.

“A lot of people say I look like a rock star or a designer punk. But I swear it’s the job that has carved my face. It’s the hours, the stress and the pressure. It’s not me trying to look like this.” - Marco

It wasn’t White’s recipes that won a generation over, not that he wasn’t more than adept in the kitchen. He was, in the 1990s, the youngest chef ever to have three Michelin stars, at Restaurant Marco Pierre White. His food was French and often fussy but it was cooked with a surgeon’s care. His carefully composed plates also had a visual impact that seemed new in England. Everything appeared to come with a side order of pheromones.

It wasn’t White’s antics that caught the eyes of aspiring chefs, either, though he was funny in a mean way. If an assistant chef erred at a big moment, White might toss him into a garbage bin, hang him by his apron from hooks on the wall or make him go stand in the corner for a while.

“One day a chef moaned that he was too hot, so I took a carving knife in one hand, held his jacket with the other and slashed it. Then I slashed his trousers. Both garments were still on his body at the time. ‘That should provide a bit of ventilation,’ I told him, and when he asked if he could change out of his chopped-up clothes I said, ‘Yes, at the end of the service.’” - MPW

It was the photographs in “White Heat” that put the book across. No cookbook had looked like this one. Carlos Clarke shot White’s kitchen at Harvey’s, which opened in 1987, as if it were a war zone. The black-and-white photos were filled with blood, with cigarettes dangling from lips and with rattled, unshaven young men who appeared to be on a mission up the Congo.

At the centre was Marco Pierre White himself: thin, 28 when the book was published, with unruly dark hair, penetrating eyes and veins running down his forearms that made them resemble hydraulic pork shanks.

Before then, well-known chefs and food writers during that time tended to be plump, jolly figures, like Russian nesting dolls. The French master Fernand Point wasn’t so jolly, but he had a belly that toddled in front of him like a kettle grill.

White on the other hand, looked as if he had been raised in the woods. He wielded a cleaver the way Bruce Lee wielded nunchucks. He seemed as if he popped supermodels into his mouth like ortolans.

In him, young chefs saw themselves — or at least they saw the person they hoped to be. He looked like an artist, not like a hospitality director.

“Nine out of 10 English chefs have their names on their chests. Who do they think they are? They’re dreamers. They’re jokes. Just ask yourself how many chefs in this country have Michelin stars and how many have their names on their jackets. We all wear blue aprons in my kitchen because we’re all commis, we’re all still learning. 

At the end of the day, it’s just food, isn’t it? Just food.” 👌🏽

________________________________________________

ARNOLD NEWMAN

Arnold Newman was an American photographer, acknowledged as one of the greatest masters of the 20th and 21st century. His work had changed portraiture and he was recognised as the “Father of Environmental Portraiture”.  His work is collected and exhibited in the major museums around the world.

Newman was an important contributor to publications such as New York Times Magazine, Vanity Fair, LIFE, Look, Holiday, Harper’s Bazaar, Esquire, Town and Country, Scientific American and many more.

“As for myself, I work the way I do because of the kind of person that I am - my work is an expression of myself. It reflects me, my fascination with people, the physical world around us, and the exciting medium in which I work. I do not claim that my way is the best or the only way, it is simply my way. It is an expression of myself - of the way I think and feel.”

Newman’s new approach to portraiture began its influence through key publications in America and abroad.

In 1945 his Philadelphia Museum of Art one-man exhibit, “Artists Look Like This”, was one of his most successful works that attracted nationwide attention from which he became well established.

Artist Pablo Picasso, Cannes, France, 1956

Milton Avery, American Modern Painter, 1961

Leonard Bernstein, American Conductor, 1968

Agnes de Mille, dancer and choreographer. New York, 1955

American photojournalist W. Eugene Smith, New York City, 1977

American newscaster Edward R. Murrow at CBS Studios, New York City, 1951

Architect I.M. Pei, New York City, 1967

Eleanor Roosevelt, New York, 1992

Robert Moses, urban planner. Roosevelt Island, New York, 1959

Mr. Newman went on to photograph names like Eleanor Roosevelt, Pablo Picasso, Frank Lloyd Wright, Golda Meir, Andy Warhol, Marilyn Monroe, Salvador Dalí, and the former president Bill Clinton. There would be no overstuffed costume fittings or stark studios. Mr. Newman’s portraits were defined by his sitter’s environments, which led him to be known as the “father of the environmental portrait.” Mr. Newman argued that he was not interested in the details of his subject’s surroundings, but the symbols he could create with them.

One of his most famous, signature images is his mid-1940s portrait of Igor Stravinsky that was commissioned by Harper’s Bazaar, shows the composer at the corner of a large piano. This, Mr. Newman explained, was not about the piano, it was about the symbol the piano represents.

Newman was a master at composition and was meticulous about his work. He even used a large-format camera and tripod to ensure that every detail of a scene was recorded. 

A beautiful, black and white portrait of Russian Composer Igor Stravinsky seated at a grand piano. Look closely and you'll notice that the piano was strategically silhouetted against a blank wall, creating an illusion that the lid is an abstract musical note.

The magazine rejected it.

“It was one of my first assignments for Harper’s Bazaar,” Mr. Newman told The Boston Globe. “Stravinsky was staying in a hotel room. Hotels were part of his life, of course, since he traveled, but somehow I felt it wouldn’t represent him. A piano turned up in an editor’s apartment. So I photographed him with it. The piano is symbolic, you see, because Stravinsky composed in his mind, not on the piano. But it seemed like a beautiful shape that resembled a half-note and was like his music — strong, linear, harsh, but also lyrical and beautiful.”

Though it’s debatable whether that piano top resembles a half note or more of a backward quarter note, the symbolism is especially prominent in one of the contact sheets from the session, which is also included in the book. Mr. Newman quickly rejected three other images of Stravinsky around the piano bench. Instead, he picked the most composed and formal image. In it, Stravinsky anchors the photo’s composition at the base of the lid prop, which also serves as the top of another quarter note. Part of that tight composition was thanks to the ground-glass grid on his view camera.

Igor Stravinsky, Russian Composer, Pianist and Conductor, 1946

His approach to portraiture is far from that of the commercial portrait, where the main aim is to produce a flattering, even idealised impression of the subject.  Indeed, Arnold Newman’s portraits often have what might well be an uncomfortable and revealing quality as far as the sitters is concerned. His famous portrait of arms manufacturer Alfred Krupp taken in 1963 was lit with a direction and quality of light which created a distinctly evil, even depraved image, making an unashamed personal statement about his subject, who was not at all pleased by it:

Alfred Krupp, industrialist. Essen, Germany, 1963

This image is of Alfred Krupp who was not a military man but an industrialist who ran war factories manufacturing arms for the Nazi assault on Europe. Krupp gained notoriety for his insistence on using slave labour from the internment camps, where the prisoners of war were literally worked to death. Even the Nazi’s suggested that Krupp use free German workers rather than slaves but Krupp insisted on exploiting these captives. Naturally the majority of the men and boys who perished were Jewish and Krupp holds a particular place of hatred amongst its people.

The fact this image was even taken is quite surprising when you learn that the photographer was a Jewish man named Arnold Newman. Originally Newman did not want to take his picture but after a while he decided to do it. Newman had a platform specifically erected in order to place Krupp against an industrial backdrop and he knew exactly the kind of image he had in mind.

The positioning of Krupp is vital, by placing him in this elevated position is declaring that he is the highest authority within these premises, that he is the master of all he surveys and ultimately the man responsible for all that happens or has happened. Coupled with the knowledge of the atrocities that occurred within those factory walls and the clever use of positioning the model and the lighting and Krupp is revealed as a pitiless and brutal overseer answerable for so many deaths.

When composing the shot he asked Krupp to lean forward slightly, when he did he clasped his fingers together under his chin. The light hit the face perfectly and when Newman saw the impact of this effect he said in his own words that ‘He felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck’. He grabbed the shot which became one of Newman’s most iconic images. When Krupp saw the picture he was said to have been furious and for Newman this was a little bit of revenge.

Arnold Newman talks about photographing Alfred Krupp portrait in interview with The Boston Globe 

If there is one tangible quality which exists in many of Arnold Newman’s portraits, beyond that of his own style, it is his ability to use a setting to complement and enhance the personality of his subject. Newman himself disclaims the idea of being an innocator in what is called environmental portraiture; he simply says that he found the studio a sterile place in which to work. Much off his work is done on large-format view cameras. He does, however, use 35mm SLR cameras, where the additional freedom is an advantage. He also prefers the quality of natural light, but where necessary will supplement it with additional lighting and reflectors in a way that retains a natural appearance. He prefers to describe his work as ‘pictures of people’ rather than portraits, and believes that as such they must first of all be good photographs.

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

My Lethal White episode 1 recap

After having had a lot of fun recapping episode 2, I went back and did episode 1 as well. It got a bit out of hand and is a loooong post...

Under the cut, because, evidently, there will be ALL THE SPOILERS! 🚨

*SQUEEEEE!!!* THEY’RE BACK!!! 🤗💃🏻🙌🏼  (Yes, I’m still squeeing, although this is a rewatch)

Let’s look at the title sequence, shall we? They’ve added a few new details: There’s the wooden cross from the dell, the White Horse of Uffington and Robin’s Houses of Parliament guest pass. The child from Billy’s memories and the pink blanket. Someone’s already mentioned the ‘whore’ swirling in the coffee cup, and then later we have a fencing icon in the pint. Cool hints. 😎

Cut to tired, head-achy Cormoran at the wedding. Strike has a slightly different haircut, and I wonder: they dye Tom’s hair darker for the role, but he has a glint of natural first grey at the temples that I’ve seen on Tom pre-Strike. How did they keep that? (Sorry about the hair kink digression…☺️)

Pet peeve of mine they carried over from Career of Evil: in the book, Donald Laing slashes Strike’s palm, but it didn’t happen in the series. There was no blood on his hand when he called Robin, and his glove was intact. And yet, Strike has his hand bandaged. I know it’s a silly pet peeve of mine, but stuff like that pulls me out of the moment. And Strike wouldn’t slap on a bandage just for a little bruising. *steps off soap box*

“You look beautiful.” - “And you look terrible.” - “It’s this jacket, needs taking in.” 😂

“I want you back.” - “What?” Augh, the double meaning of it all, Strike’s softness and Robin’s initial uncertainty of what he means. 🥺

When she realizes that Matt deleted Strike’s messages, there’s a tear spilling from her eye, and she quickly wipes it away. 😢 Such good acting. Such a brave girl.

A few of us have already addressed this in the chat: did Matt BLOCK Strike, or delete his calls and messages? Or both? They’re frustratingly unclear about this detail, and it makes a difference in terms of Strike being able to reach her or not. (I’m a continuity nerd, sorry)

Sarah standing next to Matthew. *gags*

Robin looks so beautiful! And so very sad. (Holliday is acting her heart out of this season, can’t say it enough). This is award material, hands-down. 🏆

Her look across the room at Cormoran while they’re eating! And he’s… just been staring at her all through the meal? Good god. These two.

If Cormoran falls asleep before dessert he’s got to be really, REALLY tired.☺️ Poor baby.

We’ve got to work on your fine dining skills, Cormoran darling! It’s very cowboy and rugged, handling cutlery like that, but you would SINK during an aristocracy under-cover op. Maybe the Comte de la Fère is available for a lesson?

The first chords of The Calling’s “Wherever you will go”. Ack. They really went for the original, and as someone who’s always been ridiculously in love with that cheesy song, I AM HERE FOR IT.

Cormoran walking slow-mo past the bridesmaids, looking at Robin dancing with Matt The Twat. My heart…💔

When I’m gone you’ll need love to light the shadows on your face… *sniff*

Cormoran’s FACE during the dance. I can’t. He looks like a puppy about to get shot. 🥺

(and what a juxtaposition to the little lady with the funny hat bobbing happily next to him, to everyone looking awww and being completely ignorant of the drama that’s playing out. Ugh. I’m dead.)

Matthew moves like someone who’s (painstakingly) learned exactly one (1) dance, and for their wedding only, and why is he even smiling so proudly? They must’ve just had the biggest row in history? Is he really so full of himself?

Even Robin is smiling, although staring longingly at Strike. I bet they did that so Strike would be a little mad at her and want to walk away.

AND HE DOES! 😟 You can just see the “Fuck this” from the book crossing his face as he turns around and leaves. Ack. I’m dead again.

If I could then I would, I’ll go wherever you will go

(Perfectly placed, kudos) 👏🏼

And she runs after him, looking like a fairy-tale princess. Did you see how frigging COLD it must’ve been, judging by her breath?! Poor Holliday must have been freezing to death during the shoot. And then to pull off such a heartbreaking scene…

(Also, the lawn in the park? A shitload of rolled sods. No grass looks this lusciously green in winter, and you can see the edges everywhere. Some landscaper had a field day there!)

“Are you sure?” - “Yeah. I am.” About WHAT, you idiots?! *wrings hands* To her coming back to work, of course, but there’s so much more to their statements. And I’m sure that non-book-readers thought they were about to kiss and elope, but - alas! - we know that’s not going to happen.😔

But at least we get The Hug™️, and it’s everything we hoped for: Robin crying, digging her fingers into his jacket; Cormoran closing his eyes… God help us, we are all DOOMED sailing this ship! 🙈💔

I was a little miffed upon first watching that they faded out of that hug so quickly. That was it? No, it wasn’t, as we now know, and I love, love, love that we’re getting all these extended flashbacks that reveal more and more of what happened to us!

ONE BLOODY YEAR LATER (I still can’t get over that time jump)

Lol at the subcontractor crashing his moped into the cab! It was only briefly mentioned in the book, and turning it into an actual dialogue was a fun idea.😂

And there’s Denise (that IS her, right?), completely uninterested in doing her job. Good grief - Strike and Robin are BAD a picking employees! 🙈

Robin looking not-jealous-at-all at Strike walking off with Lorelei. Ouch.

I like Lorelei, btw. They chose the actress well, and she’s nice and mature. Which doesn’t mean that I’m not secretly flinching every time she kisses Cormoran. It’s just not right.

Billy. Joseph Quinn does an incredible job playing him. 👏🏼 As dangerous as he appears at first, his despair and his efforts at holding himself together are heartbreaking. That battle he wages against his mental illness is on full display, and his scared big eyes are killing me. 🥺

Cormoran is admirably unfazed by Billy’s appearance - is that his Army training kicking in? Robin, though, is shaking but braving it out, recording with her phone although her hands are trembling. Good acting by Holliday.

Good riddance, Denise.

The good ole’ pencil trick. “I didn’t know people still did this.” 😌

I was surprised that Cormoran chose to simply break into the house on Charlemont road. It’s breaking and entering for no good reason. Could’ve been anybody’s home.

He’s not going to- EWW! He’s sitting down on that filthy couch. And plucking hairs from it. EWW!🤢

Robin: “...and some porn.” 😂 Says it as if it’s what they always find. The usual. Men… 🙄

Who’s the guy taking pictures of Cormoran? I seriously don’t remember this from the b- Oh, WAIT! Reporter guy. Patterson. Yeah. Him.

The CORE members are as cliché in their looks as are Chiswell’s upper class folks. It’s all a bit on the nose for my taste, but then clichés are clichés for a reason.

Cormoran needs to work on his disguises. Not fitting in at all with the CORE crowd, age-wise or in his look. No wonder they don’t trust him. He does it better in the books.

Oh Robin. I actually think you need a lot more therapy to work through your shit.

Ah, here we go. Seaborn bacteria. But first, Matt’s got to be a prick again. 🙄

Chiswell with his arrogance and his rudeness and his finger-snapping. *shakes head* I think if Cormoran hadn’t known he could make some serious money with this case, he may have walked out on him.

Btw, the “large” jacket is making Strike look slimmer instead of bigger. 😄 They’re so desperately mentioning Strike’s largeness, as if beating it over our heads could actually make us not see barely-6-foot and slender Tom Burke.

“Couple more potatoes wouldn’t hurt.” And his FACE! 🥰

Glenister is a really good actor. I always listen to the Strike audiobooks that he narrates, and I was worried hearing his voice in the show would be confusing, but it’s not because he sounds so different. Can’t wait for him reading “Troubled Blood” to me! 🎧

Is it a coincidence that Drummond’s art gallery has a painting of a horse in its front window? I think not.

I love that soft blue shirt they put Cormoran in. Makes him look very huggable. *blushes*

“Not sure I would make a convincing goddaughter either.”😂

So in England you can just walk up to a minister’s house and ring the doorbell without any security people stopping you? Interesting.

Chiswell just shutting the door in Cormoran’s face. RUDE.😠

The brown contact lenses. 👀 Okay, they make her look different, but not THAT different. It’s her sudden posh accent that’s the real stunner.

The panic attacks. Holliday plays them so well, I almost feel like I can’t breathe myself. 😧

I was expecting the Houses of Parliament to look a little less like a stuffy basement full of old junk. *ducks*

Barclay! Definitely looking more attractive than his description in the book. And I thought I’d gotten food at understanding Scottish. I haven’t. *turns subtitles on*

Izzy is the only Chiswell offspring who doesn’t make me want to immediately vomit.

“Venetia. Like the blinds.” Oh God. 🙈

Winn is such a creep. 🤮 Poor Robin. GET AWAY FROM HER YOU LEECH!

Of course Matt doesn’t want Robin to wear the Green Dress. Twat.🙄

The house warming party. I always wonder why Robin doesn’t have friends of her own. I have a feeling Matt has something to do with that.

The earrings. So we will see Robin finding out Matt’s cheating on her! I can’t wait for her to rip him a new one! 😈

Robin calls Cormoran - and it’s not Coco but Lorelei who picks up. That’s a smart change from the book. And it makes her the rebound girl. Which she doesn’t deserve, but it is what it is.

“And she bakes.” 🥴 Is it just me wondering how Lorelei got that cake into the tin without ruining the icing?!

Flashback to The Hug™️. God, their faces are so close. Cormoran is so soft. Nnnnhhhggggg.

Enter the plaid shirt. Lumber!Cormoran is a good look on him! 😍

The Armchair of Sadness™️. Of course that’s where the devastating phone call to Robin’s house happens! The disbelief and disappointment on Cormoran’s face is heart rending. 😢💔

@lulacat3 and I have already established the continuity error with Cormoran’s facial injuries suddenly missing when he’s reached the pub. (And they should still be there; he’s still wearing the plaid shirt from that same evening.) If I were the makeup person I would have been deeply regretful of having missed dabbing fake injuries on Tom’s face again.

The Uffington Horse. Robin’s in appropriate Wellingtons, weather jacket and a beanie for their outing. Cormoran is wearing what he always wears, and Tom clearly wishes he had a beanie. At least he gets to wear a t-shirt under his eternally blue shirts this season. REVOLUTION! 😄

Sure. Let’s just go and dig for a corpse with a shovel so conveniently available! Just the two of them - one delicate Robin and one invalid. And then Robin finds the bones after ten seconds of digging. No further comment. 🙄

But I like the change with Cormoran’s leg. As stupidly heroic as he acted in the book, I like it better in the show where he has to acknowledge his handicap and Robin takes charge.

The bones. Dun-dun-DUN!

(Good first episode, although all in all the pacing wasn’t quite right yet, and compared to the book it all felt a bit rushed. I liked episode two better.)

[inspector-montoya-fox]

here’s why Thieves in Time is a bad game

before y’all try it, i just want to say that i’ll be as unapologetically petty and sarcastic as i want and fucking rip this game to shreds. yes, this is how i’ve spent my days since Thieves in Time came out. sitting alone in my room, staring at the wall, crying and complaining. because it has since been my life’s aim and dream to think about it every day, state the negative things about it, and become an evil essay witch on this half-dead website. *evil laugh*

Story:

References: i want to start with the smallest problem, but one that annoys me to this day. in the original trilogy, there weren’t a lot of references but the ones that were included were meticulously researched and well thought-out (i’m specifically referring to that Neil Diamond Carmelita vinyl gag, but can’t find the original post). the references in Thieves in Time however, were obviously just the creators’ interests. Turning Japanese, Clan of the Cave Bear and Bentley’s “hacksona” presented as Rambo just scream 1980s (which i’m assuming is the decade the creators grew up in), and Of Mice and Men is classic literature about the Great Depression, which subsequently started being taught in school in the US during the 1980s. it feels like the creators just went ‘let’s discuss what our lives had in common during our teen years and put that in’ instead of researching it first. and, here’s the thing: when you’re adding references, in order to make them funny or interesting, they have to fit in with the property or the character that’s connected to them in some way. Don Octavio was an opera aficionado so his episode’s title card pays homage to the Phantom of the Opera, young Muggshot was influenced by the movie “The Dogfather” because he’s a gangster, etc. these were funny because they were so spot-on with these characters. if every character in the Sly Cooper universe references the same type of stuff (from the 1980s) and shares the same interests, it’s just claustrophobic and uninteresting. i’m pretty sure i’m not the only one who had to look up these ultra-hetero, scrotum references when the game came out. that’s because they were specifically tailored to be funny to them, and not their target demographic which were kids in 2013.

Narrative: now that we got that out of the way, let’s look at the narrative. at the end of Sly 3, Bentley says he’s building a time machine. Sanzaru took that joke and decided to run with it as the premise for their game. ok, not the best idea, but i get it - you’re literally picking up where the last game left off. since all the storylines were wrapped up, they could’ve done something different like Sly’s kids or Bentley and Murray’s families, but this isn’t an essay about suggestions so...... time travel (i want to say that it’s, again, an 80s reference but whatever) was pretty ‘out there’ in 2013. i mean, even Plants vs Zombies 2, which was released that year, had to do with time travel (yes, i’m referencing an app). but Sanzaru had the advantage of applying this premise onto already established mythos and lore. the story had definite potential: someone is threatening Sly’s lineage so he has to travel back in time to save the day. the player would get to explore new locations and iconic eras in history, and, of course, the main selling point: playable ancestors. how could you screw that up? welp.... let’s think about the plot holes here for a sec. Bentley’s device would take the gang back in time when given an item from the specific era. stop. this right here is called ‘over-complicating’. how did they know the items would take them directly to the point where the specific ancestor was in danger? the Feudal Japan period lasted for 700 years: how did the machine know when and where to drop them off? and if the gang could return to the present at any time, why didn’t they do so when they were in trouble? oh right, the machine was broken. so how did they return the baddies to the present after they defeated them? i mean, why did they use the Grizz’s crown to travel to Medieval England if they went back to the present to drop him off to Interpol first? and on that note, how did they drop the baddies off to jail without getting caught and without Carmelita being around? i can already hear you thinking but these are total details that aren’t important, you jerk! well, yea, they truly are details and i truly am overthinking it. and yes, i truly am a jerk. but let me tell you something: when Sanzaru chose to make a new Sly game, did they not think ‘oh we’ll have to follow up Sly 2 and Sly 3′s stories’ which were well thought-out narratives with depth and various themes and didn’t have huge plot holes (as seen by my analysis through the episode project) ???? and did they also not think that their game would come out eight years after the last one, having expectations at an all-time high???? yea, that’s what i thought.

Characters: i’ll make a different section for Sucker Punch’s characters, so this is for Sanzaru’s original ones. name one iconic original character from Thieves in Time. i’ll wait... nope. not one. that’s because all of them were absolute shit. and here’s where i want to touch upon Sanzaru’s over-reliance on the trilogy. Ms Decibel (perhaps the most obvious copy) is a mix between Don Octavio, Miz Ruby, and the Contessa. El Jefe is Rajan if he went to the gym. Toothpick has Sir Raleigh’s temper and tendency to grow in size. and the Grizz is... whatever the fuck he is. (don’t worry i didn’t forget Le Paradox and Bob). there’s a difference between studying & creating similar characters and blatantly plagiarizing older characters because you lack the creativity. oh, boo-hoo this evil jerk’s telling it how it is. this set of villains is so lacklustre, i don’t even know where to begin. El Jefe is a tiger, even though we’ve already had two major tiger villains and one tiger flashlight guard. ok. Rajan could summon lightning because of the Clockwerk heart but El Jefe can do the same, how exactly? Toothpick is an armadillo (good) from Russia (better) with an obsession with the West (excellent) who can also grow huge (very bad). it’s never explained how or why. why?????? just tell me why. i want to know. i really want to know. Ms Decibel is an elephant who got into a tragic accident which left her with the power of hypnosis. music and hypnosis have already been done, but ok, i’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. so how do we use this character? spend the entirety of her screen time making jokes about... wait for it... her weight !!! this is top-notch comedy... really? like... really? the creators’ humor is a crime, at best. fart jokes and fat jokes all around. oh, and then there’s the Grizz. what the fuck where they thinking? just, what the fuck. i guess the guys at Sanzaru thought black people speak in rap? is that it? apart from it being extremely offensive, it’s also a blatant copy of Dimitri’s backstory. like, his introductory cutscene even has his paintings thrown at him and into the trash, like the intro cutscene for The Black Chateau. honestly, all of these villains caused me several types of pain, but not as much as...

Bob & Le Paradox: the absolute worst. i can just imagine the meeting going something like this: Sly’s ancestors are awesome! i wish we could fit them all in the game... here’s an amazing idea! what if we use one of the game’s few levels to introduce a brand new ancestor! yea! let’s make him dumb as fuck, strip him of any athletic prowess, and retcon the entire lineage by having him be the first Cooper ever! the kids will love a prehistoric level! ..... could you kindly point out where and when did ANYONE ask for this? i remember @ironicsnap​ saying something like the game is good until Bob. no, it was already bad - Bob just lowered the standard. like, a lot. people love Murray and his gameplay is neat, but no one ever thought ‘oh i wish we had a Cooper character with Murray’s game style’. why would they waste the opportunity to bring in Henriette, Thaddeus, Otto, literally any ancestor? why??? but they went ahead and created their own Cooper, and that wasn’t even the end of it. they had to make him dumb. they had to make him unbearable. they had to ruin the Cooper ancestry by adding this mess to the lineage. Sucker Punch made sure that all the ancestors were unique, but at the same time made all of them suave and funny and slick and you wish you could be them! well, fuck that. also, his name is Bob. Bob Cooper. it’s been 7 fucking years and i still can’t wrap my head around it.... so now, let’s talk about Le Paradox. i don’t have to mention the previous main villains, but i will. Clockwerk killed Sly’s ancestors and father, and was seemingly an eternal threat. Neyla was a psychopath who fooled everyone on her journey to becoming immortal by resurrecting Clockwerk. Dr M opened up the possibility for Sly’s dad to be a jerk instead of a hero, and died trying to unlock the Coopers’ legacy. how does Le Paradox compare? well, he’s a sleazebag skunk who was mad because of his dad’s downfall to the Coopers. that’s it. no twist, no depth, no clever dialogue. nothing. there’s nothing there. this is a new character, unfamiliar to everyone, who was hyped up for 5 levels and defeated in the conclusion. why was he a match for Sly? i don’t know. how did he fight for his life and ultimately tricked Sly into helping him? i don’t know. how the hell did he kidnap Carmelita? i don’t know. was it the power of persuasion? no, he’s revolting. so i literally don’t know. there’s no backstory, no fleshing-out the character, nothing. all we’re given to work with is a brief info-dump about his dad and how he escaped prison. i don’t know what else to say apart from how big a humiliation this was for Sanzaru and their team of writers. you had 8 years to work on something and this is what you came up with? anything would be better. anything would best this utter cliché of a villain, a distasteful misogynist, crybaby, idiot with an accent. literally anything.

Arcs & Themes: let’s take a look at the formulaic subplots for the gang’s members. apart from dealing with Le Paradox, everyone had a small arc. Sly had to deal with his break-up with Carmelita. Bentley had to deal with his break-up with Penelope. Murray had to deal with playing second fiddle to Bob. Carmelita was a damsel in distress and sex bait for the ancestors. the ancestors had their own mini storylines along with reacting to Sly’s presence. there you have it. i summarised it all for you, nice and neatly. are there any themes like in the previous games? nope. i promise you i’m not lying when i say that i tried hard to come up with something, even some speck of a detail i could use to over-analyse the story and come up with some ideas on themes. nothing. there are no themes. the subplots are character-driven and the player gives it 0 emotional investment. there is nothing to analyse, nothing to talk about. maybe even a theme for each level, like a spooky level or something? nope. the levels are dependent on eras and historical periods. the variation here is ok. Feudal Japan, Wild West, Prehistoric Australia, Medieval England and Ancient Arabia  - pretty good selection. i’ll give them credit for it. but that’s it. due to the absence of themes, the hubs feel empty. there’s no replayability factor. after you collect the bottles and masks and treasures, there’s nothing. i would spend hours revisiting the trilogy’s hubs, just roaming around. the hubs here are huge and empty. there’s nothing to reminisce about. nothing to recall. oh that’s where this mission went down. no, nothing like that. the aforementioned subplots are resolved during mission cutscenes and then they’re gone. you don’t have to explore spooky Prague alone as Bentley to have him overcome his fears, you don’t have to find out miners abducted Murray’s beloved Guru and search the Australian outback for him, you don’t have to hold back your tears when you’ve reached the end of the Cooper Vault and Sly asks his dad for help. nothing.

Gameplay:

Controls: as soon as i laid my hands on the controller the first time i played the game, that fateful afternoon, i knew something was up. Sly would respond 1 second late after you pushed something on the controller. it felt clunky, is what i’m trying to say or, as my sister put it, it felt heavy. and she was right. the controls were clunky and heavy and didn’t feel light, like playing as a thief should feel. i don’t know shit about game mechanics but this definitely didn’t feel right. the hubs are also chunky in design, the cliffs are huge and so cyclical or hexagonal, that when you parachute your way to them and are just an inch close, Sly will automatically just drop because he can’t grab onto them. running as Sly doesn’t feel fast, silently obliterating guards from behind feels slow, and swinging, grabbing, pickpocketting, and hanging aren’t fun anymore. presentation-wise, @designraccoon​ goes into detail here, in an absolute gem of a post. in short, the gameplay animations make Sly look less sneaky. Sanzaru didn’t even consider a thief’s movements.

Missions: why the fuck would you remove the player’s option to choose between which mission to do first? why would you do that? the game lays out what goes first, sometimes having only one mission available in the hub. and the missions aren’t even enjoyable. firstly, the loading screens take up to 5 minutes, maybe even 7-8. secondly, there’s hacking every 2 missions. the missions don’t have any dialogue to make them fun, lack in interesting puzzles, what more can i say? they’re overly easy and lack any challenge whatsoever. at least there’s variation in gameplay (hacking, RC car, fishing, costumes, ancestors, turret etc.) but because of the controls, even these get tiresome. the missions are solely there to progress the story and that’s why the operations are merely ‘storm the main baddie’. the trilogy had some pretty interesting missions which made sure to complete jobs required to take down the big bad. e.g. kidnap General Clawfoot to take down the security, hack Contessa’s computer to make sure Carmelita will be freed, steal voices to tempt Neyla, and then take down the Contessa. the missions in Thieves in Time lack substance and variety. and the hacking (all three styles) sucks.

Collectibles: here’s another fantastic idea: have players collect costumes in order to collect bottles in order to collect treasures in order to collect masks in order to unlock funky Sanzaru logo-themed merch! what was the reason for the collectibles? in previous games, collecting all bottles would unlock special abilities. that was it. it’s the same thing here too, but there’s less incentive? i mean when you have to collect 1000 things, what’s the point? the treasures are random and very few are references to the trilogy, so whatever. and the masks unlock... superhero costumes for what reason exactly? oh, and then there’s also the achievements for your Playstation account, like ‘open the map in every single location you visit’. what fun! if the reason for collecting the treasures is to play godawful hacking minigames in order to get masks, what’s the point? decorate your paraglider with the Sanzaru logo? or have Bentley dress up as discount Robocop? i mean including masks in the interior locations was cool, but the bottles were always supposed to be something you could do whenever your soul desired. sometimes i left them last before the operation, sometimes i collected them before the first mission. so i was pissed when i found out that, in some cases, you had to unlock the episode’s costume in order to get the all the bottles. so, fuck off.

Animation: i’ll keep this short. the animation was terrible. do you remember that tumblr blog from a while back, where she dedicated the posts to pointing out the mistakes in the animated cutscenes? yeah. point is, there were lots of them. the animation style was bad, the character design was ugly, the characters’ movements were unnatural. everything about it was shit. looking past the bad decision to drop the trilogy’s comicbook-style animated cutscenes, couldn’t they have hired someone better? someone with more experience? their concept art was awesome. couldn’t they hire that guy and have it be comicbook style if he wasn’t trained in animation?

Legacy:

The Players: let me ask a genuine question: who was this game made for? kids growing up in 2013? maybe so. because it feels like Sanzaru didn’t even consider the fans of the trilogy. actually, it felt like a huge fuck you. Sucker Punch made their trilogy for whoever. there were great stuff for kids, but adults would pick up and appreciate the references, the real-life setting (e.g. tobacco use, existence of nightclubs, spice instead of drugs, etc.). that’s why all three games are timeless classics. judging by Thieves in Time’s humor, the game wasn’t targeted for adults. so, it doesn’t make sense to use an already established property, beloved by its fans, to attract a new audience consisting of nine year-olds who’d laugh at Murray dressing up as a woman. if they really wanted to appeal to the fans of the original, why retcon everything? why change who the first Cooper was? when the gang’s stranded in Saudi Arabia, why have Sly say ‘i couldn't remember a time since we've teamed up that we felt so defeated’? the gang’s been in way deeper shit before. why the ‘Sly’s dad vs Le Paradox’s dad’ deus ex machina? Sly’s dad wasn’t famous because of stealing the world’s largest diamond, what the fuck are you even talking about? do the guys at Sanzaru have such big egos and bravado that they needed to change the original games’ lore? were they so preoccupied with leaving their signature on a property which was never their own? i don’t know who needs to read this, but i’m stating FACTS.

Characters: now let’s talk about Sanzaru’s treatment of the Cooper gang and the ancestors (female characters will get their own section). why would you change the characters like that? if it wasn’t for the voice acting, i’d say this is a completely different Cooper gang. there’s no wise-cracking band of best friends, going on heists and being proud of their brotherhood and bond. all that is replaced with the formulaic story arcs for each member. the trilogy’s cutscenes and dialogues made sure to establish how Sly, Bentley and Murray have lived together since they met at the orphanage, play videogames all day and order chinese food and pizza and whatever. through missions and their adventures, they face obstacles they have to overcome as a gang, and when Sly 3 came around, their friendship was put to the ultimate test when they almost disbanded. Thieves in Time was too lazy to add to this. Sanzaru thought ‘oh the trilogy showed how they’re best friends so we might as well have them focus on their own stories separately’ and if this is truly the case then i ask again: who was this game made for? because new fans would never know how tight the gang was just by playing Thieves in Time. there’s a lack of genuine friendship moments. like, what happened when Sly came back after faking his amnesia? that’s completely ignored. where’s the witty banter? the ‘wizard & sitting duck’ type of jokes? nothing of the sort. what we get is fart jokes and Murray wanting to dress up as a woman. on that note, what was that all about? ok, have him dress up as a geisha to get in. fine. have El Jefe slap his ass, have him perform in a painfully lengthy dance sequence, have him dress like that during the rest of the episode, and then have him be persistent about getting the belly-dancing gig? the hell? Murray was always kinda goofy but this just feels kinda homophobic? it feels dragged out and unfunny. and then there’s the ancestors. i said it once before and i’ll say it again, Sanzaru deprived me of a buff Arab daddy Salim Al Kupar and gave us that elderly shit instead. all jokes aside, the redesigns were uninteresting. why take away Tennessee Kid’s facial hair and give it to Galleth? i legitimately think all the ancestors were boring. i mean, their gameplay was cool, especially Tennessee Kid’s guns, but in terms of character, they were just some dudes. did they believe that Sly was their descendant from the future? maybe. did they care? nope. they all had the same storyline of dealing with Sly’s arrival, flirting with Carmelita and getting their canes stolen. that was it. the fans waited for so long to get even a glimpse of the ancestors in action, and Sanzaru downplayed all of them. they reduced them to useless idiots too occupied with women and food, incapable of getting their canes back from stupid Le Paradox. and they didn’t even stick to the lore. no ma’am. let’s make Rioichi the inventor of sushi !! because that makes total sense and would defo fit in with the character and the property! why. just, why. you were handed the lore !!! you were given all this rich backstory and you threw it all away to replace it with trash !!! complete trash.

Changes & Inconsistency: i want to briefly mention some changes that pissed me off. where’s the laser glide move? it was an important turning point at the end of Sly 3, so why did they get rid of it? Sly is a master thief who’s traveling back in time, so you’d think they’d actually make him a master thief. also, the changes in the binocucom and Bentley’s slideshows in order to modernise them. if Sucker Punch managed to place the mission starting points at locations where the binocucom would show the objective clearly, so could Sanzaru. instead, they chose to have it be a moving camera, floating around the hub. and Bentley’s slideshows were absolute classics, opportunities to include gags and have Bentley show off in his own way. you just had to change it into a tablet, didn’t you. omg you’re still looking at small details like these? yes sweetie, i consider the details because i think they shape the game more than anything. if i didn’t consider the details, then my opinion on the game would be incomplete. when i praise the trilogy i don’t only look at story and gameplay. because i’m unbiased like that. here, i’d also like the mention Dimitri. what a fucking waste. you either include him in the game or you don’t. but don’t give me some half-baked shit on how he’s working for the gang back in present day. Dimitri staying home, waiting on the gang to call him in order for him to give them details on the villains. how does that even slightly resemble anything about Dimitri’s character? they didn’t even include his voice, some greasy sweet Raccoonus Doodus dialogue.

Female Characters: you know it’s all been leading up to this. this is the crux of the Thieves in Time hate. i don’t want to say the game is misogynistic so i’ll call it anti-feminist. why? just answer me. why? why did you have to disrespect Carmelita like that? right off the bat, they swapped the pants for the skirt. in what world does an active inspector who’s always on the scene wear a skirt? Carmelita now wears a skirt because her only role in the game is to be the love interest. Carmelita now wears bright red lipstick and has a new hairstyle, which would be ok if only it wasn’t Carmelita. Carmelita now plays up her inner sassy Latina because she’s pigeonholed into the ‘angry ex girlfriend’ role. they compartmentalised her, tried to sexualise her because she couldn’t possibly be one of the boys. nope. let’s take a respected woman, high in rank and as physically able as Sly, and turn her into a cliché, an angry ex girlfriend for comedic relief, strip her of her abilities and have her be kidnapped twice, have every exchange with her be about how attractive she is, have almost every male character in the game flirt with her, have her boyfriend be jealous of his own ancestors because they’re flirting with her in order to create purposeless love triangles, and then, after all that, dress her up as a belly dancer and distract some guards while the rest of the gang do the heavy lifting. that last one was really the nail on the coffin. did Bentley have other ways to enter that door? absolutely. so, what the fuck? why did i come back for a good Sly game 8 years later and receive a game where you have to shake your controller to have Carmelita shake her ass? why did they have the guards’ eyes pop like that? why did no one stop them? and it isn’t just Carmelita. it’s Penelope too. god forbid we have a female character who doesn’t have a waist smaller than my finger, and a voluptuous physique. why was the redesign so drastic? the story stuff is also nonsensical. why did she leave? wasn’t she happy with Bentley? i watched her speech about turning on the gang about a thousand times and it still doesn’t make any sense. like, i literally don’t understand. what was her motive? and why reverse her story of overcoming the Black Baron persona and the connotations of a meek woman hiding behind a man’s disguise? why repeat it, shamelessly? do the guys at Sanzaru only know women who have recently broken up? why does Carmelita, Penelope and Ms Decibel all go through break-ups during the game? why does Penelope go against Bentley before they even break up? why waste the opportunity to introduce a new, well-written villain and use it to repeat something already done? why???? no woman is safe from Sanzaru because Ms Decibel... boy, did i feel bad for her. apart from continuously reminding us that she’s haha fat!! she’s also presented as a blind lovefool. love? what a silly concept only women believe in! Ms Decibel had a crush on Le Paradox (for some reason i can’t even fathom) and for that she must pay by being utterly humiliated. and what do ALL women do when a guy breaks up with them? they get so angry! yikes, stay clear guys! ....why does Sanzaru hate female characters? i’m genuinely curious. i mean, what forced them to depict women like this? i’m sorry, i can’t take much more of this.

Ending: and how do you end a disappointment that came 8 years late and didn’t even have a sequel guaranteed? yeap, you guessed it! a cliffhanger. but not just any cliffhanger - a total fuck you to anyone and everyone. with a single move Sanzaru instantly screwed over the franchise. the fans, the creators, the characters, anyone looking to continue the series. everyone. WHY would you trap the protagonist in the past? WHY? did you feel defensive about something that wasn’t even yours and went ‘well you can continue the series but the sequel will have to do with time travel’. why did you think it was a good idea? how does it even slightly resemble a good ending? someone fill me in please. because i don’t think i’m being unreasonable, i’m just telling it how it is.

Conclusion:

i did it. i fucking wrote it in all its motherfucking glory. the idiots at Sanzaru could’ve given us an amazing game but instead of working on how to make it better or including extra levels, they wasted their time on deciding what killable baby animal to include in each hub or what the backstory for each treasure should be. how fucking distasteful. and to think i’m an idiot myself for trying to force myself to like it because i was so in denial about how bad it was. i’ve just outlined everything wrong with that cursed game. i’m exhausted.

[slightly-gay-pogohammer]

heimkoheimkofan replied to your post “would anyone be interested if i fixed sly thieves in time or”

Go ahead and tell your ideas, i'm honestly curious.

BUCKLE UP IT’S GONNA BE LONG 

and premise: i’m still using the time travel plot, because i DO have an original story for sly but i legit just want to fix thieves in time, not make a completely different story

to fix it properly the series should’ve ended with sly 3, but lets pretend we can go on

also important: while i’m referring at the main bad guy as le paradox, the main bad guy ISN’T the le paradox of TiT. he’s a stupid character with a stupid name and an even more stupid motivation to be the bad guy, i’m simply using his name as nameclaim for lack of other names.

VARIOUS CHANGES:

the gang doesn’t travel in time because le paradox is specifically attacking the clan; le paradox is stealing stuff that eventually would end up in the cooper vault without even knowing it, and coincidentally deleting SOME parts of the thievious racconus. le paradox themself isn’t even aware the cooper gang is fighting their team off until the medieval england level and isn’t doing anything about them for the time being

no sly doesn’t “misses thieving uwu”, he gets back in the gang because of the whole “hey the pages are missing”  and “penelope disappeared”. carmelita catches him and instead of being sassy and being like “woopsies lol” ofc he’s sarcastic at first but immediatly realizes he fucked up.

carmelita herself is part of the gang from japan, but she actually acts like part of the gang just at the very end of the level, where she actually talks it out with sly. their situation is still a little worrisome at the beginning, but first of all we don’t have carmelita getting kidnapped (NEVER.) nor her threatening him over and over. they very slowly understand to find a way to get over the whole “yea i was faking amnesia” thing

the time machine works differently. you gotta write the very precise date and place to travel!!! questions “shouldn’t we go back when neyla paralyzed bentley then?” or “shouldn’t we directly stop clockwerk then?” happen over and over and they’re quite the big plot point. they’re doing what’s right, not what’s good for them.

sly doesn’t go around saying he’s one of the cooper, once again because of time paradox stuff, but tries to find excuses about being a big fan or something like that. the ancestors don’t know he’s a cooper but his name becomes important for them (other than for slytunkhamen ofc) and is a name used a lot after that time

...also im gonna say it murray’s gay and has a crush for someone they meet during their travels. that’s it. it’s canon now no longer a shitty joke

LEVELS ANCESTORS AND BOSSES:

feudal japan, still w rioichi except that he didn’t invent sushi because it’s stupid and he isn’t a stereotype. el jefe can stay

the wild west is the only good level except for the whole “carmelita gets kidnapped” level and of course her stupid ass flirting with tennessee. everything else is perfect. tennessee is perfect. toothpick is perfect. i really like this level and it’s exactly the same except for that one level and the finale of course

in a better world bob nor grizz exist. the third level is the caribbean during the 1800, and the ancestor is henriette “one eye” cooper because i love her big time. the gang makes lot of jokes about “oh my god we’re with pirates again” and she’s the only one of the ancestors who lowkey flirts with carmelita. dimitri is having the time of his life and throws parties on the ship. idk who the bad guy is so don’t ask :(

ill talk about the medieval england and the black knight later but know that 3/4 of it is good and will stay. from penelope’s backstab onwards however it changes a LOT.

arabia can stay but it’s during the 40 thieves golden era, making salim a Big Boss  instead of whatever the hell that was. no bellydance minigame. mrs decibel is a victim of circumstances and eventually helps the gang. i need to change her a lil but ill think about it

instead of paris, the final level would be ancient egypt. again i’m gonna talk about it later :3c

VERY BIG CHANGES I’M GONNA PUT UNDER READ MORE BECAUSE IT’S LONG AND I’M GONNA TALK ABOUT THE WHOLE PENELOPE BULLSHIT AND THE BIG TWIST IN EGYPT HELL YEAH

PENELOPE

you know that one scene when the black knight is confirmed to be a mecha controlled by penelope? HAH NO SYKE!!! yes penelope is confirmed to working for le paradox, but she’s been kidnapped and captured with the idea that “hey, you’re working with your bf to make a time machine? make one for me too or i game end him and all your friends” so of course she’ll do it. as for now, she’s chained in the black knight’s factory and after bentley is assured she’s good and fine and they hug it out, the next mission implies freeing her using carmelita and defeating the big mechanical dragon penelope had to build

penelope in TiT was already a completely different character, both personality and design speaking, so might as well make her an original one. so i present to you... le paradox. 

the rest of the level continues just as in the game, except that bentley AND PENELOPE beat up the boss of the level - aka le paradox herself. from that moment she realizes the coopers are a problem and actively goes ahead and tries to mess with them on purpose, to the point that she wants to steal the thievious racconus to fuck with em.

penelope is part of the gang and actively works w them during arabia and egypt and become bff with carmelita and bentley proposes to her because shut the fuck up sanzaru

SIDENOTE: ARABIA

as i said it’s very different but esp at the end. salim’s thievious racconus IS stolen by le paradox and mrs decibel for enough for them to know about how slytunkhamen was the first cooper who wrote in it... and most importantly about clockwerk. salim’s book is retrieved also thanks to decibel, who spills the beans and explains le paradox’ plan to the gang to absolutely fuck up with everyone by giving clockwerk the necessary knowledge about technology to become the mechanical bird we all hate and dislike with the idea that “hey, if i steal the book and i let you kill the coopers we’re cool right?”

“but wouldn’t that create a paradox” yes but i never said le paradox is clever. she’s petty and stupid and had to kidnap penelope to make the time machine she doesn’t give a shit about paradoxes

EGYPT

it’s a true run against time. slytunkhamen is the only cooper who gets to know sly comes from the future because there’s no time to waste with silly excuses. half of the level is them trying to find clockwerk and overall saving one another from le paradox and clockwerk’s gangs and trying to reach for them before things happen

le paradox actually manages to find clockwerk, give him all the knowledge necessary, steals the thievious racconus and explains how coopers in the future learn from it... and just before the final battle with le paradox, well. clockwerk pulls a neyla and murders le paradox in cold blood

“isn’t it too much for a children’s game” neyla did the same to arpeggio and sly 2 is a game about drug deals shut up it isn’t

the remaining part of the final level is akin to the end of sly 2, really. clockwerk flying around and the gang trying to find ways to take him down and get back the thievious racconus before he could actually use le paradox’ time machine. because if clockwerk is dangerous, clockwerk with a time machine is even worse. he’s already immortal on his own that would make him Double Immortal

the gang takes shots at taking down clockwerk, pretty much, all of them working together until the final duel between him and sly.  once again, sly has to do the right thing instead of what’s good for him to avoid a time paradox - leaving the murderer of his parents alive to avoid completely destroying the timeline.  clockwerk grows knowing that someday he’ll have to leave sly alive if they met before sly is an adult + knows about the thievious racconus, giving him one more excuse to not game end sly when he goes to find connor and his wife

le paradox’ time machine is destroyed and so is the cooper gang’s as soon as they get back to the present. just to be sure.

FINALE:

everyone’s good 

no shitty cliffhanger

dimitri is good out there. he’s just vibin

murray gets back to his racing but stays a lil more in contact with the gang. maybe he gets a bf. who knows.

bentley and penelope actually get married and they’re Good and Fine back in crimes action

carmelita and sly actually talk it out. they grew closer!!!!! sly could show his Very Good Side and while they talk about how he couldve made things better for everyone, that would mean still lose his family... and her. they get to actually tell eachother “i love you” and while sly still remain in the interpol working with her, she sometimes closes an eye whenever some big criminal get their stuff stolen in the middle of the night.

rumors say the cooper gang is back in action, but... who knows? ;)

[my18thcenturysource]

Hairstyles of the 18th Century

As requested, here’s a simple and quite basic timeline of hairstyle during the 18th century. It is mostly eurocentric, because most of fashion moved from Europe (especially France) to the rest of the world (even if a style was not originated there).

I thought to give you all a glimpse into the main changes of the century, of how hairstyling and wigs changed through the years, and how different the looks from the early century are from the ones of the late century: how we can see the change from the Baroque to the Regency era, and the rise and fall of the Rococo style.

So, in the images above, you can see a detail of a portrait of woman and a man from each decade of the century, starting in the 1700s and ending with the 1790s. Of course there are several examples for each decade, but I chose to use just two as a way of simplifying. But you can see the full paintings and more references in this Pinterest board I made.

I like to divide the century style in four parts just because that’s how I get it better: early, mid and late century, and the turn of the century. And of course each with its own cute little subtitle.

EARLY 18TH CENTURY a.k.a. fuck yeah the Baroque is still here (1700s-1730s)

WOMAN - For the late 17th century and early 18th century, the key hairstyle is the fontange, or top-knot in England, which is a hairstyle with the front hair piled up high, and in the late 17th century accompanied by a lace hairddress that could reach quite interesting heights. The hairstyles we see in the portraits above, are fontanges, but the frelange headdress got smaller and smaller until it disappeared.

The hair lost height until the 1720s, when low, simple hairdos took place, but the curls were not lost, they just turned into the tête de mouton.

MAN - the full bottomed wig is THE wig of the early 18th century, with its fluffy curls in natural colours or white, almost waist length and middle parted. This style was originated by Louis XIII  in 1624, when he lost his hair it turned from the natural hair to wigs for everyone, since such volume is hard to achieve and keep. So, more is more. This style was worn pretty much until the 1730s.

During this time we see the emergence of the bag wig in the 1720s (the hair was tied at the back and then put in a small black bag, curls were made over the ears), and the bob wig (hair falling just below the ears, it had curls or a simple frizz all over) begins to be worn in the 30s

MID 18TH CENTURY a.k.a. never enough curls /1740s-1750s)

WOMEN - During this time, the hair was worn in soft waves with little or no height, and in the back it was arranged in small curls, a twist or a braid pinned to the head. But, if you could encapsulate THE hairstyle of the mid century, it would be the tête de mouton, with its close-fitted style of curls in neat rows, and the powdered with white powder (remember this look from Marie Antoinette?). This style was immortalised by Madame de Pompadour, and with her dead in 1764, this style went out of fashion for the sky-high styles of the rococo.

MAN - From the 40s-60s, the hair became bigger, the Ramillies wig (tied the hair in a plait at the back) came into fashion (even though it existed before, and was prefered by military men) with its tie in the back and the curls over the ears, which became THE mens hairstyle for the 18th century, or at least the one we all easily recognise.

LATE 18TH CENTURY a.k.a. we do not know the limits of things anymore (1760s-1780s)

WOMEN - During the 1760s, the high styles began to appear, being about 1/4 or 1/2 the length of the face. It was styled in an egg shape and was pretty much simple with the styling with a few decorations. But oh, the 1770s came, and HUGE hair became all the rage, going to 1 1/2 times the length of the face, styled in the shape of an air balloon. To achieve the height cushions or toques were used: attached to the top of the head, then the hair (natural or false) was curled, waved, or frizzed, and piled over the cushion, the back of the hair was set in curls and angled towards the back of the hair, and then decorated with all kinds of things. And I mean that, all kinds of things: from bows and ribbons to ships and bird cages. These styles were worn for days or weeks at a time, and were styled into allegories of current events (vaccinations? done! air balloon? done! zodiac? done!). This style was called pouf, pouffe, or toque.

In the 1780s the volume became horizontal, instead of vertical, and out very favourite hedgehog style, or coiffure à l’enfant, was born: a halo of of frizzy curls around the face, a small hank of longer hair left straight or in ringlets. The name coiffure à l’enfant was given by Marie Antoinette’s coiffeur Léonard Autie, when she gave birth to the dauphin and she lost a lot of hair and he made this hairstyle for her (which she wears in her portrait by Louis Elisabeth Vigée-LeBrun wearing a chemise à la reine). But, like a lot in fashion, the style can be seen a few years earlier, so it’s likely that that was just the same that stuck. Even though the style of the 1780s was supposed to be more natural, the hedgehog could be really REALLY big, and fake hair was used to achieve that volume.

MEN - Men’s hair went up as well, not as high as women’s BUT certainly higher. We see the volume of the pouffe in men’s hair at the top of the head, with pigeon wings (curls over the ears) and the rest of the hair tied in the back. This is the clear origin of the 1950s Pompadour hairstyle. Power was all the rage in many colours, and wigs were desirable in white or grey, but natural colours were accepted as well, just need to powder it.

TURN OF THE CENTURY (1790s-1800s) a.k.a. oh shit, that was too much! Let’s get minimal

WOMEN - After French Revolution powder went out of fashion in France, and in England it happened in 1795 when it was taxed even though it was already used less and less. This was the start of what we know as Regency fashion, which was an absolute contrast of the silhouettes worn in most of the century. Ad hair was not different.

The hedgehog was still worn, but the volume became more natural, and the hair was decorated simply with ribbons. Another style was the hair being worn in ringlets framing the face in a more restrained way, and a chignons in the back, showing off the neck. The hair could also be cut short, like very famously Lady Caroline Lamb did, ina a style called à la Titus, that became fashionable for men and women. Very Jane Austen-esque. The colours were natural with the powder gone, and this was the beginning of the Romantic period.

MEN - The powder was out of fashion, so no more white, grey or colourful hair for men. With the discovery of Pompeii’s ruins, we see a renaissance for classical and hellenic references during the 18th century, and we see that in women’s white fashions and curls, inspired in Greek and Roman sculptures, and in men we see short hair for the first time in a LONG time, inspired by ancient senators and gods. In 1795 with the powder tax, men potested cutting their hair (I mean, no hair, no need for powder), and we see the rise of the Bedford crop (a short cropped hairstyle with curls, parted to the side, styled with wax), started by the Duke of Bedford and then followed by his friends.

The layered short curly hairstyle called à la Titus, became famous while being worn by actor François-Joseph Talma as Titus Junius Brutus in Voltaire’s “Brutus”, shocking audiences with his short natural hair, also known as the Brutus hairstyle.

Formal court dress still required a powdered wig, as well as some professions and older and military men. But, by 1812 the age of the wig was gone.

_________________________________________________________________

FINAL NOTES: If you’re using this a guide for writing/art or a reference for how to style your hair, remember that these dates are not absolute, and that the beginnings and endings of the decades have a lot of mixing styles. So, for example, you can still have a hedgehog style in the 1790s, even though it was not THE hairstyle of the decades, and of course the portraits of the time clearly show this.

Images, from top:

Marie-Anne Mancini, duchesse de Bouillon (présumé) , ca. 1700, Nicolas de Largillière.

Sir John Chardin, ca. 1703, Unknown Artist.

Self-Portrait with sister, 1715, Rosalba Carriera.

Sir John Rushout, 4th Baronet, 1716, Sir Godfrey Kneller.

Madame Isaac de Thellusson, née Sarah le Boullenger, 1725, Nicolas de Largillière.

Portrait of Léopold Clément, Hereditary Prince of Lorraine, ca. 1720, Pierre Gobert.

Portrait of Giovanna Bagnara, 1739, Pierre Subleyras.

Portrait of Jean-Gabriel du Theil, 1738-1740, Jacques André Joseph Aved.

Mademoiselle Louise Jacquet”, 1748-1752, Jean-Étienne Liotard.

Francis Greville, Baron Brooke, later 1st Earl of Warwick, 1741, Jean-Marc Nattier.

Portrait of a Girl Holding a Spaniel, 1750s, by Alexander Roslin.

Sir Henry Oxenden, ca. 1755, Thomas Hudson.

Maria Christina, Duchess of Teschen, 1766, Marcello Bacciarelli.

Portrait of Edmund Rolfe, 1761, Pompeo Batoni.

Portrait of Anne, Countess of Chesterfield 1777 - 1778, Thomas Gainsborough.

A Young Man, presumed to be ‘John Bertram’, 1773, John Smart

A Lady, 1785, John Smart.

Jean-Joseph Mounier, 1789, Jean-François Favre.

Portrait of a Lady, 1790s, Hugh Douglas Hamilton.

Portrait of Prince Augustus Frederick, Duke of Sussex, 1798, Guy Head.

[lovemepleaase]

i. warm.

in which it’s new year’s eve, and champagne has harry feeling bold. rated m.

massive thanks to katy perry for the line, “skinny dipping in the dark.” also, yes, i know this doesn’t make sense for england at this time of year-- suspend your disbelief.

read the rest of my writing here.

...

Normally, she’d never be up at two on the morning of January first. The original plan was to have been in bed at least an hour ago, slightly buzzed, Advil sitting within easy reach for when she woke up feeling like death was only a few steps away, reruns of Friends playing as she fell asleep. She’d been gathering her things at half-past midnight, kissing Nick on either cheek and assuring him that, yes, she was fine to drive, when Harry, shirt barely clinging onto its last two buttons, had slurred at her to stay— just while he sobered up, he promised, promptly shoving another drink into her hand and setting her coat on the couch, leading her over to the loveseat and asking her about her New Year’s resolutions. So that’s how they ended up here, sprawled out on Nick’s couch while he snored over on the cushy loveseat, his legs laid casually over Meshach’s lap with Pixie sat on the floor, her head hanging back against the cushions. Nick’s house was an absolute mess— empty cups and champagne bottles were scattered about, deflating balloons mingling up near the ceiling, confetti covering every inch of the hardwood floor, and what wasn’t on the floor was being carefully arranged among Harry’s curls by Y/N. It was bold of her to crawl up into his lap with a handful of sparkly confetti, sure, but she was quite a few more glasses of champagne in than she was before, and Harry’s loose, warm grip on her hips was more than comfortable. His eyes were closed, his breathing even— she’d think he was asleep if it wasn’t for the occasional quip about her hairstyling skills here and there and the light brushes of her hip with his thumb. (It would be too much from anyone else, but she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t wondered what it would be like to find herself in this position more than once over the course of their friendship. Saying she had feelings might be taking it a bit far— she had a curiosity, and certainly a desire. Harry was her friend, sure, but he was also extremely attractive, oozing confidence and a sexy sort of swagger she hadn’t come across in any of her dozens of mediocre dates this year— or last year, she supposes. And, besides, who could deny those cheekbones?) She took the last piece of pink metallic material from her hand, placing it just on the bend of one of his curls before leaning back to admire her work. “Perfect. Looks handsome.” His eyes fluttered open sleepily and he blinked a couple times, looking up at her with a gentle smile. “I was just starting to get comfortable.” She frowned dramatically, crossing her arms as he steadied her on his lap. “You don’t even appreciate all my hard work.” He grabbed for one of her hands, pressing a misplaced kiss to the knuckle of her thumb. “Love it. Gonna steal this look on tour, I swear it. Gucci’ll be contacting you any day now.” She felt the corner of her mouth lift of its own accord in response to his terrible joke, her free thumb rubbing over his cheek. “Yeah, they better.” Harry kept his eyes on her, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, scanning over her face like he was sizing her up, a curious sort of look on his face as his eyes traced over her features.

(And if she was leaning into the hand that had just barely slid down to her ass, so be it.) “What?” He pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing like he was thinking. There was a pregnant pause before he answered. “You ever been skinny dipping?” She barked out a laugh— sure, he was drunk, but the implication of the statement was very clear and seemed very, very sure in its weight. “If you wanted to get me naked, there are better ways than both of us freezing to death.” He smiled boyishly, lifting one of his hands to tug at his bottom lip. “Pool’s heated.” (He’d avoided replying to the more incriminating statement, she’d noticed, but she was willing to let it go for the sake of flirtation.) Yes, she was more than willing to get into bed with him, but hopping into a pool in the dead of winter wasn’t exactly the way she’d thought it would go. At her own place, perhaps, where everyone was dry and maybe just a little less drunk. He didn’t give her a chance to respond, tapping at her leg to get her to crawl off his lap, putting a hand back behind him to push himself up and off the couch. “C’mon— it’ll be an adventure.” He pushed himself up off the couch, his shirt hanging open, revealing the moth and the birds and whatever other ink he’d covered his body with over years of spending all of his time with impulsive teenage boys spread out over the warm skin of his torso, the black standing out fiercely against his skin (or maybe it was just the alcohol tricking her eyes; either way, he was gorgeous). He had a large hand held out to help her up, looking at her with raised brows expectantly, a slight, drunken smile toying at his lips. “Harry...” “Come on, love. Promise I’ll make it worth your while.” She shifted just barely in her spot, the sentiment combined with the ample time spent on top of him making her feel the need for just a little friction against her center. She reached up hesitantly, taking his hand and letting him carefully pull her up, ignoring the way the room went just a little blurry as she made it up to her feet. “Fine.” Harry led her outside, keeping a grip on her hand as he slid open Nick’s glass door, taking a deep breath as he stepped out, fog appearing in front of him when he exhaled. She hissed when her bare foot hit the bitter cold concrete, immediately wondering why Nick’s guest room wasn’t suitable— but, she supposes, they’d already made it this far.

(Watching Harry stop in front of her and drop her hand, reaching down to unbutton the last of his shirt, sliding it off his arms and abandoning it on the ground was a solid reason for her to continue with his ridiculous plan, she decided.) She only realized she was just standing there watching him lamely when he was pulling down the zipper of his jeans and stopped to look up at her. “You gonna strip or are you going in like that?” “Right— sorry,” she said, tugging her sweater over her head and cringing as it fell onto the likely dirty floor. No turning back now. He was down to his boxers the next time she checked, just as she was stepping out of her jeans, leaving them in an inside out pile next to her sweater. He may as well have been naked with the way his waistband was hanging so low on his hips, down past the dark trail leading down from his bellybutton, far enough that he could show off the neatly trimmed but much thicker hair just above his dick— the image it brought on was certainly enough to make her want to drop to her knees and help him get his boxers off.

Y/N blinked her arousal away, diverting her gaze down to the floor and reaching back to unhook her bra and letting it slide down off her shoulders— better to get it all off before the cold had the time to sober her up enough to recognize that what she was doing was absolutely insane. Her panties were down around her ankles when she heard Harry hum— he was looking down around her hips when she looked up at him, clouds partially masking his facial expression with every breath. “What?” “Didn’t know you had that.” He pointed at her and she looked down, searching for what he was looking at until she realized he meant the tiny tattoo inked just against her hip bone. “Oh. Right.” She brushed over it with her thumb, watching tiny goosebumps follow in its path. “I guess you wouldn’t have.” “‘S cute.” She looked back up at him, his expression earnest even as he was standing in front of her, eyes glued to her bare skin, already half hard. She had no doubt he meant it, even if he was clearly looking for something more than ‘cute’ from her. “Thanks.” She looked over at the pool, steam rising up in waves from the warm water— a formidable sight in the bitter winter air. “I’m not getting in until you do.” He grinned at her, and then, without hesitation, took a running leap into the water, splashing enough that she felt a few drops hit her, creating little spots of cold on her already chilled skin. He was still grinning when he came back up, his hair plastered to his forehead, the shiny confetti she’d worked so hard to arrange floating out around him and bobbing in the waves he’d created. “Your turn.” She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and making her way over to the ladder that dropped down into the water. She dipped a toe into the water, feeling less susceptible to risks than Harry, even if she was stood in Nick’s backyard completely naked. “It’s not that bad.” “Told you. Now get in.” He was treading water, watching as she took each step down into the water very carefully until she, too, was floating in the deep end of the pool, her dry face still pink from the cold air. She frowned at the contrast. “It’s gonna be so fucking cold when we get out.” He snickered, letting his head go under for just a moment so he could push the hair off his forehead, grinning when he came back up. “So we better enjoy it then, yeah?” He turned his back to her, taking a lazy pace over to the shallower end of the pool, the lights lined against the wall illuminating his elongated shadow against the pool floor as he used broad strokes, making his way over to the wall at the other end of the pool and then leaning back against it casually, stretching his arms out along the edge. “You comin’?” She inhaled sharply before setting out to follow him, trying her best to ignore how cold the outside air was as the water got shallower and shallower, and then her feet were touching the bottom. She only stood for a second before making the decision— she walked over to him as best she could through the resistance of the water, his arms coming back down to rest on her hips as she got close to him, pressing their wet chests together and wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him so close their noses were nearly touching. She felt his dick twitch against her thigh when she shifted, working one of her knees between the two of his. “Hey.” “Can I kiss you?” She laughed through her nose at his bluntness— clearly the cold had done nothing for his inebriation or the boldness that accompanied. “Sure.” He brought a hand up to cup her cheek, leaning in and closing the gap between them— he tasted like whiskey and minty gum and strawberry chapstick and apparently liked to keep a slow pace, his hand languidly drifting from her hips up to her waist and then just barely brushing the underside of her boobs, and then cycling back again, keeping the other against her cheek, pressing it into her skin as he worked his lips against hers, the tip of his tongue pressing against her bottom lip.

(He could definitely feel her nipples pebbling against his chest, but in her defense, it really was cold.) She was just reaching up to card her hands through his wet hair when he moved, bringing the hand that was on her cheek down to her waist and shifting to press kisses to the drops of water lingering against the skin of her neck, his teeth just barely skimming against the column of her throat. Whether it was out of drunken clumsiness or on purpose didn’t matter; she gasped nonetheless, tugging at the hair on the back of his head. He reached up, brushing at her nipple with his thumb, laughing against her skin when she gasped. He was attentive, even drunk— he trailed kisses down her neck, around her collarbone, between her breasts before leaning over and taking his nipple into her mouth, rolling his tongue over the sensitive skin. “Oh, God...” He had a finger still brushing over her other nipple, letting his teeth barely graze as he sucks, clearly relishing in her breathy moans and the way she was pushing him closer. He was hard up against her leg, but still very focused on his task; she reached down blindly, grasping at water once, twice before she got a grip on his cock, giving him a couple firm strokes, feeling him grow harder in her grip. He moaned  against her chest, the sound vibrating against her skin and making her eyes flutter shut. Y/N moved her hand, circling her thumb around his head before running her finger against his slit. Harry pulled back, resting his forehead against her chest, hissing when she moved to give him another stroke. “I...I wanna...” “Whatever you wanna do,” she started, pausing to lick a droplet of water off his neck. “We probably can’t do it in the pool.” He sighed, looking up at her with warm cheeks. “We um...” He let his head fall into the crook of her neck, sighing again before looking up at her. “We didn’t grab towels.” It was maybe 50 degrees, at most. They were naked, and wet, and both feeling very needy, and they had no towels. “...shit.” Harry licked his lips, looking over at the patio with razor sharp intensity. “Nick’s got a pretty good blanket on the couch over there.” She looked over where he was— it was a good blanket, all thick and fuzzy and probably much, much, warmer than the New Year’s air. She turned her head to look at him again, his hands still resting on her waist, her hands still tangled in his hair. “Wanna make a run for it?” He looks back at her, and then over at the couch. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go for it.” She pulls off of him, wrapping her arms around her exposed skin, feeling grateful her hair wasn’t wet like his was— she’d be much better off when it came to getting dry and warm, even when he was still shivering and complaining. He followed her up the stairs and quickly over to the couch, careful not to slip as they made their way over to Nick’s couch— she grabbed the blanket, tossing it over her shoulders and climbing back on top of Harry when he sits, letting the blanket drape over them both as she leaned in to nip at his neck and press kisses to his jawline, working her hips over his at a gentle rhythm. “Do you wanna...?” She pulled off his neck, kissing his cheek a couple times as she answers. “Yes, yes, please...” “There’s a condom in my jeans.” Safety first, always, but it was bloody cold— she stopped immediately, pulling back to look at him with furrowed brows and a frown. “You want me to get out from under the blanket?” “I’ll warm you up.” A solid promise, but nonetheless, there was still dampness on her skin where the blanket wasn’t, and it hadn’t gotten any warmer outside since they’d found the protection of Nick’s lovely blanket. She looked back behind her at the piles of their clothes sitting tauntingly on the concrete, the shiny blue corner of the metallic wrapping poking out from the front pocket of Harry’s jeans. She took a breath, gaining momentary courage before she tossed the blanket off her shoulder, pushing herself off Harry and running over to his jeans, pulling the little square out of his pocket before running back to the safety of his and the blanket’s warmth, where he was holding the blanket open for her, giggling childishly. “Shut up,” she said, tearing open the packet and giving him a couple firm pumps before rolling the condom over him, squeezing tightly when she gets down to his base. “Sorry, sorry, you’re just...cute.” “Whatever.” She scooted closer to him and sat up on her knees, guiding him to her entrance. His head was warm against her as she rubbed him between her folds a few times, gathering her wetness where it mattered most before finally sinking down on him, not bothering to take her time, letting him fill her completely on the first stroke. Harry groaned when she did, the grip he had on her hips tightening. “Fucking— shit, you’re warm...” She laughed— an out of place comment at any other time, but any additional warmth was welcomed in this situation, even if the stretch was a little much; the heat radiating off of him felt just as nice as she was sure she did around him. His eyes were squeezed shut, his head falling back against the cushions of the couch, his brow furrowed deeply as she rocked against him. He was using the hands on his hips to help keep her to a rhythm, guiding her up and down, front and back, holding on tightly as she ground and rocked against him.

“Jesus, fuck, you’re amazing, you know that? Been thinkin’ about this for ages…”

It just sort of slipped out— she was drunk and he felt amazing inside her, warm and firm against all the spots she can’t ever seem to reach herself, his fingers just barely skimming against the tattoo he’d noticed earlier. “Think about it when you’re getting yourself off?”

He laughed, ducking his head down so his forehead was rested against her shoulder; it was faint, but she still heard him. “All the bloody time.”

“Think about anything else?”

Harry groaned when she squeezed around him on the next drop, his hand moving back to grab at her ass. “Can’t really think about anything but y’cunt right now, love.”

“Good.”

He brought one of his hands down to her front, rubbing firm circles into her clit, smiling when she flutters around him. He had both of his feet planted firmly on the floor, wrapping his free arm around her, getting just the right amount of leverage to meet her rhythm with his own thrusts upwards.

The sound of skin against skin and rumbly groans echoed across Nick’s patio; Harry moaned, low and loud and long, and she was almost scared the trio inside might wake up and find their friends fucking out on the patio until he hit a spongy spot deep inside her on one of his strokes, and she’s right there too, with a loud “Harry!” and a push of his head into her cleavage.

“There?”

“Yes!”

He pressed just a little more firmly against her clit, his circles just a little less precise. “How are we doin’, love?”

Any of the burning stretch she’d felt before had been worked out, leaving just a pleasurable pressure from the inside and the feeling of the head of his cock hitting against her just right. “God, you’re big…”

If it inflated his ego at all, it doesn’t show; he pressed a kiss to her jaw, watching as her eyes fluttered shut. “Close?”

She just nodded; anything more would take too much effort, and she could feel her orgasm rapidly approaching, the pressure building low in her belly as she slowed to a stop, letting him take over completely, keeping a steady pattern of thrusts for the both of them.

“Come on, love, cum on my cock, let me see it…”

She whimpered— she was teetering over the edge, her eyes fluttering shut, her head falling back as it built higher and higher inside her, the feeling rising.

“Give me somethin’ to think about.”

The image of Harry with his hand on his cock late at night, cumming as he thinks of her is all she needs— she felt her body tense up as she came with a soft, “Oh, God,” her grip in Harry’s hair tightening astronomically.

Harry muttered her name into her neck as she started to come down, his hips starting to sputter. “‘M gonna cum…’m gonna—“ He cut himself off with a drawn out moan, and she could feel him pulsing inside her as he buried his face into her neck, emptying himself into the condom.

It was a couple moments before he went loose underneath her, pulling back to look at her, a boyish smile on his face. She couldn’t help but laugh softly— she got what she wanted, after all, even if it was under unconventional circumstances.

“Sorry. Didn’t take long.”

She smiled, running a hand through his still-damp hair. “Don’t worry about it. Make it up to me next time.”

His brows rose, just barely, but he didn’t say anything— an unexpected response, then, but a positive one.

(After the way this had gone, she hoped there would be a next time— her vibrator really could only do so much, and it certainly wouldn’t drunkenly ask her for a fuck in their friend’s swimming pool in the middle of winter.)

She tucked her hair behind her ear, taking a breath before lifting off of him, cringing when she sits back down and feels him wet against her thigh. “So…”

“So?”

“The condom.”

His nose scrunched as he tried to hide a laugh, pulling the blanket tighter around them. “Was kinda hopin’ you’d ask me home with you, honestly.”

Her brows shot upwards— so it was mutual, then, and not just because of the champagne and the party atmosphere. This meeting was premeditated on both sides. “Oh yeah?”

He couldn’t help but giggle, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in close. “Guess I didn’t have to.”

She shook her head, falling into his warm embrace gratefully, the clouds of their breath mingling in the cold. “Happy New Year, Harry.”

“Happy New Year, love.”

“...think we can go inside? I think my nipples could probably cut glass.”

She felt his hot breath on her shoulder as he laughs through his nose. “Please. This condom is bloody disgusting…”

[inkstaineddeath]

OC Biography (and stuff)

I hope Ink has enough originality and depth that she won’t be too taxing to read about.

She dies aged 26, spends about 20+ years as a Wraith and gets resurrected near the end of MKX. Her story really starts first after the death of Quan Chi and her resurrection, then the death of Shinnok, when she finally feels free of any chance of being returned to the Netherrealm.

Name: Cilice Sorokina (a cilice is a deliberately uncomfortable/painful undergarment e.g.: knickers, garter or belt worn under clothing, worn to remind the wearer of the pain that Jesus suffered on the Cross. Often worn by the devoutly religious. I thought the name fitting as her tattoos and feelings of self loathing constantly remind her of her past and own death. Soroka is Russian for Magpie and Cilice being a thief - I thought that fitting.)

Nickname: Ink (given by Quan Chi)

Age: Died aged 26

Height: 5’6".

Eyes: Blue (human). Black (Wraith - as with Scorpion when she starts to lose control to become Ink, her eyes will change to Wraith form).

Hair: Black, chin length messy bob with short fringe/bangs

Body type: Athletic. Loses a lot of weight when she’s struggling with her PTSD, her appetite shrinks and she spends a lot of time in the gym in an effort to distract herself from her trauma.

Partner(s): Wraith - Quan Chi’s lover (as well as his bodyguard, assassin and general dogsbody)

Human – When first joined The Black Dragon she enjoyed a very casual relationship with Kano

Sexuality: Pansexual (preference towards males)

Gender: Cis Female

Ethnicity: Caucasian. English Mother, Russian Father. Born in England. Moves to Russia to join The Black Dragon

Family: Deceased. Parents died when she was very young (car crash). Grandparents (Father’s side) raised her (they died not long before Cilice moved to Russia)

Languages: English (first language), Russian (fluent)

Disabilities/Illnesses/Injuries: Killed by Oni under command of Quan Chi during a mission to retrieve a Kamidogu for Kano

Scars/Tattoos/Distinguishing Features: Quan Chi covered her with mystical tattoos/glyphs that bound magic into her skin. The tattoos have no static form, they move and change. Can control their form through concentration but this becomes mentally exhausting so she instead often hides the tattoos with clothing

Clothing: When on missions/in kombat she wears form fitting black leather/flexible armour. When relaxing she wears looser clothing but still covers her skin. As a wraith, Quan Chi liked her to wear loose flowing silks to flatter rather than hide her figure

Weapon of Choice: Studied Ninjutsu from age 5 (Grandparents thought it would be good to mix with other children as Cilice was quiet and sullen after her parents death) & continued to learn throughout life. As a wraith she trained with Noob.

Quan Chi gave her ‘Ink’ skills: Able to conjure thick black ink to blind, smother & drown opponents. Can change into ink form for short periods of time.

Prefers hand to hand and doesn’t use weaponry unless she feels in danger for her life, but has trained to use swords & daggers

Skills: Thief & hacker. Skilled at stealth, lock-picking/safe breaking. Used by Quan Chi as an assassin, bodyguard and thief.

Likes: Cuddles, long baths, spending time in the sun/outdoors (after being in the Netherrealm for so long), pastries (Grandparents ran a bakery, Dedushka Boris baked & Babushka Mila sold the bread and pastries & did the book-keeping), vodka, comfortable silences, reading, computing & technology, being so comfortable with someone she can wear more revealing clothing without feeling judged.

Dislikes: Authority/restriction of her liberty (anything that reminds her of being under Quan Chi’s control), being too hot (she grew up in England & moved to Russia in her early 20’s so she’s used to cold & rain).

Friends: Kano, Johnny Cage. Has an tentative email friendship with Hanzo (Takeda helps him turn the computer on)

Acquaintances: Special Forces (though she is technically a prisoner of theirs), Erron Black & Kabal (both from Black Dragon days)

Enemies: Netherrealm forces/Brotherhood of Shadows. Special Forces if she goes back to The Black Dragon.

Personality: Before her death she was outgoing, cheerful, sarcastic, loved to party all night and enjoyed casual sexual relationships.

Once resurrected she is much more reserved and quiet, keeps thoughts and plans to herself unless she feels truly comfortable with those around her. Quan Chi didn’t completely take away her own thoughts and control (Wraiths have far more control over themselves than Revenants do), but if he felt she was resisting him then he would punish her first, then enjoy her struggle against his will.

Cilice looks back upon her time as a Wraith with enormous shame and horror. She feels she could have done more to resist Quan Chi and has frequent nightmares back to her past.

She struggles with the changes in technology that she missed whilst she was a Wraith. As she’s with Special Forces she has to covertly retrain herself & relearn to be a hacker again so not to be discovered. This puts her under more and more mental strain.

                                        ________________________

Moved to Russia when Kano offered her a job in The Black Dragon. They’d met when he’d been in England on a job and she’d been one of the thieves recommended to him. They’d got on well, both enjoying the thrill of theft, partying, drinking and eventually they fall into bed with each other (as FWB rather than anything serious). They kept in touch for a year, then Kano asked her to come to Russia “and do some proper fucking jobs” with him.

She’d been with The Black Dragon for 3 years when Kano tells her about the Kamidogu. She travels to the Netherrealm via a portal & comes close to stealing the dagger from Quan Chi, but not close enough.

Quan Chi has recently lost Scorpion, Sub Zero and Jax, so is especially angry and has his Oni torture and kill Cilice. She fights back until her last breath, impressing Quan Chi, so he resurrects her as a Wraith to replace Scorpion.

He gives her the new name Ink and has her serve as his bodyguard, thief and assassin, and lover. (This doesn’t link into the MKX comics, this is about 15+ years before they are set. I h/c this is the first time Kano hears of the Kamidogu blades.) Quan Chi doesn’t favour her above his other lovers (he takes any of his bodyguards or ‘minions’ as lovers if he so wishes, however Ink is an unwilling lover/struggles with his hold over her).

She serves Quan Chi for 20+ years, until he is beheaded by Hanzo Hasashi.

Ink and Noob had attempted to rescue Quan Chi after D’Vorah advises them of his capture. They are too late to save him, but as he dies, so does his hold over them and they are taken to the Jinsei by Raiden & Fujin and healed. Bi-Han went back to Arctika with his brother Kuai Liang and the Lin-Kuei, whilst Cilice was ‘taken in’ by Special Forces at the insistence of Sonya Blade because of Cilice’s previous work for The Black Dragon - feeling she can gain info about Kano from her.

Cilice felt she was trading one gaol for another and resolved to not give them any real information about The Black Dragon, though she had been dead for over 20 years so much of her information was outdated by then anyway.

Spent roughly 8 months recovering from the trauma of her death & resurrection by Quan Chi. Declined therapy and instead chose to try to deal with her trauma by herself. Lost control several times. 

Was close to suicide until Hanzo Hasashi contacted her and shared his own trauma – Johnny Cage had reached out to Hanzo and promised him over the top favours (as Johnny is wont to do) to get him to help with Cilice. Johnny had first asked Jax, but Jax declined due to wishing to concentrate on his Family and looking back was too traumatic for him. Kuai Liang sent a handwritten letter offering Cilice help. Kuai using a computer is.. well, hilarious.

Once she feels more in control of her past & is not having as frequent breakdowns, she opens up a little to those she feels she can trust most. Mainly Johnny Cage. Special Forces extends her freedom, using her to plan against any attempt from those wishing to resurrect Shinnok. She occasionally joins the SF on missions as she has useful fighting & stealth skills. She likes the ‘Kombat Kids’ but is too nervous to try to make friends with them & finds Cassie in particular incredibly intimidating given Cilice’s crush on Johnny, so instead spends much of her time at a computer screen, or taking sneaky peeks at Johnny’s bum in the gym. She is well aware she is viewed by the SF as a ‘freak’ and not trusted due to her Black Dragon past.

Cilice (of course) immediately liked Johnny, she’d been a huge fan of his (had his posters on her bedroom wall, all his videos) so was excited to have the chance to meet him. They’d been close in age before her death. She develops deep feelings for him but never vocalises them because of her low self esteem and her worry that Sonya would dislike her even more (Johnny & Sonya did not get back together after Cassie defeated Shinnok. They tried again but they quickly released their personalities and different values just didn’t make a happy and stable relationship. So this time it’s much more of an amicable break up).

She contacts Kano (without Special Forces knowledge). Kano of course is immediately distrustful. He suspects she’s feeding Special Forces information, but over times the trust returns when Cilice is able to give him details to evade SF. Cilice refuses to sabotage SF as she does like and trust some of the members, but equally she refuses to give any information to SF, claiming everything she knows is from so long ago to be useless.

Cilice is now at an impasse. Escape SF and run back to the Black Dragon? This will give her personal freedom but she’s not the same person she was before she died, she feels she deserved to die because of her criminal past. But maybe she can’t be anything other than a criminal?

Or, does she stay at SF and try to be a better person, to atone for her past and maybe admit her feelings for Johnny?

There’s also the option of trying to find some way to have her tattoos/glyphs removed, but she doesn’t know where to start with that, is there anyone that powerful alive anymore?

                                             ______________

[eastergrass]

Alligator Pears

We were supposed to meet here. I have walked across the lake to this island where Andre’s cabin puffs chimney smoke into the gray sky, I have walked this water before. The lake had groaned below me as I made tracks in the snow. The hatchback was down a fire lane that had last been used maybe a month ago. The water was beginning to run through culverts, but there was still a lot of snow in the woods. There were no wildflowers. Nothing green, other than the firs.

The winter sky had begun to distinguish itself from the rest of the landscape: the still, pale trees. The flat canvas of ice. Now, there is only a small window of time when one should walk on a lake. A few decades ago, I could have driven out here. In April.

When I arrive, his cabin is empty, but a fire burns white in his old iron stove. I set my bag on his low, springy cot and sit at the small bachelor’s dining table. A bit of white powder incriminates a clipboard that pins down a sheet of notebook paper, blank except for some dark stains. I forgot my cell phone, of course. I remove my boot, my sweaty wool socks. It’s almost too warm. I imagine now he may have dropped through the ice, his own cell buzzing away in the frozen depths, waking the fish.

We were supposed to meet here. Andre is my go-to guy for a lot of things. He has blue tattoos on his knuckles and he’s tall and skinny and dresses like he lives in a sewer. We met many years ago, before the border closed. He has always been an entrepreneur of markets untapped. I originally met him when he was a photographer on a dried-out farm on the West coast. Things have gone downhill for him, but they didn’t have too many other places to go. On the wall is a poster: a bright illustration of a young mother with a black bandanna below her eyes and her baby’s mouth at her breast. Painted on the wall’s raw wood is a lime that is more egg-shaped than anything, covered with splotchy black dots and painted the wrong green.

A stack of black spray painted five-gallon-buckets leans against the wall.

There is a tin can on the table with four cigarette butts and a roach. An olive-colored Coleman drains onto the floor. This is where we were supposed to meet. He has the produce. It is getting cold, I feel it all over and all the way through.

It is Michelle who really needs the avocados. “I want some,” she said to me the other day, lying in our bleached sheets. “I haven’t seen an avocado in years. I could get a hooker, a gun, I could still get a gram of coke. but you just can’t get avocados anymore. At least not in the U.S. Nothing grows, and nothing is delivered” She was right, and I just need to please her. If she wants avocados, she needs them. I want her to get big and fat off essential oils. The other night I set my lips on her belly-button, that soft hub of life, and told her I’d call my old friend Andre. He can get these things, he’s in New England.

It had all been arranged. I lift the cover on the pregnant potbelly stove and look at the black logs and feel the blast of heat. I don’t know where Rico gets the things he gets. There are a lot of things people want that have grown harder to find in the past few decades: real cheese, nice clothes, coffee, citrus, real drugs and good songs. I’ve never been much of a reader, but I’ve heard complaints there as well. Michelle bought a gram of matcha, six ounces of pine nuts, and real champagne.

I have to do these things for her, now more than ever. When we first met it was her face. I am ashamed to admit it, but at the time I was interested in little else.

Her black and symmetrical (almost mannish) brows, and her washed-out blonde hair. After we moved in together I realized she did nothing to maintain her eyebrows, and it was all the work of a higher power.

I grope the avocados. Four are very green, one is small and almost black. Andre has left them in astraw basket on the counter. I put my boots back on and go outside. There is a green tarp pulled back to expose a woodpile, and a red tank of gasoline. I see footprints going around the house, but they are filled uo partway with old snow. The sun has set. I think about the ice.

“Andre?” The obvious echo. Andre, we were supposed to meet here.

I can hardly see the lake for the darkness. There are these footprints but I have no cellphone, so I begin to follow them, setting my feet directly within his tracks. We always met in odd places: down alleys, in stranger’s basements, in pool halls, parking lots, and trailheads.

“Andre, Andre,” I mutter. I feel the snot freezing in my nose. The pines moan all around me, occasionally shaking off a mantle of snow. Above all else I hope Michelle doesn’t worry and I hope for Andre’s safety.

I recall that my mother always bought avocados, years ago, usually five a week. She told me about how they were called alligator pears, because of their shape and reptilian hide. You used to be able to get them a dollar a piece, or two if they were organic. I brought sixty dollars for Rico. The market we went to when I was a kid had photographs of farmers from across the globe above the bright produce, where a sprinkler system drizzled on the fifteen-minute mark. A blast of coffee-smell greeted you around certain corners. No flowers were ever out of season, and pretty women with dry hair and soft skin tallied our careful purchases. My mom always had the burlap bags and a heavy black credit card.

I see the lake now: its teeming blankness. I stop in Rico’s cold path. It goes a bit further ahead of me over the shore and the footprints set a straight line in the drifted snow, one that heads onto the lake. I can only imagine Rico below the ice, the ink frost-bitten off his brown skin. 

Now, he is probably bobbing in that giant frigid womb of lake water, his body awaiting the spoiled birth of spring.

“One week out of the year,” he had warned me over the phone. “Nowadays, there’s only one week you can make it to the island and back. If it cracks anywhere at all we’re both fucked.”

[djnimbin]

The Days Between

This is a letter Robert Hunter wrote to Jerry Garcia a year after his passing.

Dear JG,

it's been a year since you shuffled off the mortal coil and a lot has happened. It might surprise you to know you made every front page in the world. The press is still having fun, mostly over lawsuits challenging your somewhat ...umm... patchwork Last Will and Testament. Annabelle didn't get the EC horror comic collection, which I think would piss you off as much as anything. Nor could Dough Irwin accept the legacy of the guitars he built for you because the tax-assessment on them, icon-enriched as they are, is more than he can afford short of selling them off. The upside of the craziness is: your image is selling briskly enough that your estate should manage something to keep various wolves from various familial doors, even after the lawyers are paid. How it's to be divided will probably fall in the hands of the judge. An expert on celebrity wills said in the news that yours was a blueprint on how not to make a will.

The band decided to call it quits. I think it's a move that had to be made. You weren't exactly a sideman. But nothing's for certain. Some need at least the pretense of retirement after all these years. Can they sustain it? We'll see.

I'm writing this from England, by the way. Much clarity of perspective to be had from stepping out of the scene for a couple of months. What isn't so clear is my own role, but it's really no more problematic than it has been for the last decade. As long as I get words on paper and can lead myself to believe it's not bullshit, I'm roughly content. I'm not exactly Mr. Business.

I decided to get a personal archive together to stick on that stagnating computer site we had. Really started pouring the mustard on. I'm writing, for crying out loud, my diary on it! Besides running my ego full tilt (what's new?) I'm trying to give folks some skinny on what's going down. I don't mean I'm busting the usual suspects left and right, but am giving a somewhat less than cautious overview and soapboxing more than a little. They appointed me webmaster, and I hope they don't regret it.

There are those in the entourage who quietly believe we're washed up without you. Even should time and circumstance prove it to be so, we need to believe otherwise long enough to get some self sustaining operations going, or we'll never know for sure. It's matter of self respect. Maybe it's a long shot, but this whole fucking trip was a longshot from the start, so what else is new?

Your funeral service was one hell of a scene. Maureen and I took Barbara and Sara in and sat with them. MG waited over at our place. Manasha and Keelan were also absent. None by choice. Everybody from the band said some words and Steve, especially, did you proud, speaking with great love and candor. Annabelle got up and said you were a genius, a great guy, a wonderful friend, and a shitty father - which shocked part of the contingent and amused the rest. After awhile the minister said that that was enough talking, but I called out, from the back of the church, "Wait, I've got something!" and charged up the aisle and read this piece I wrote for you, my voice and hands shaking like a leaf. Man, it was weird looking over and seeing you dead!

A slew of books have come out about you and more to follow. Perspective is lacking. It's way too soon. You'd be amazed at the number of people with whom you've had a nodding acquaintance who are suddenly experts on your psychology and motivations. Your music still speaks louder than all the BS: who you were, not the messes you got yourself into. Only a very great star is afforded that much inspection and that much forgiveness.

There was so much confusion on who should be allowed to attend the scattering of your ashes that they sat around for four months. It was way too weird for this cowboy who was neither invited nor desirous of going. I said good-bye with my poem at the funeral service. It was cathartic and I didn't need an anti-climax.

A surreal sidelight: Weir went to India and scattered a handful of your ashes in the Ganges as a token of your worldwide stature. He took a lot of flak from the fans for it, which must have hurt. A bunch of them decided to scapegoat him, presumably needing someplace to misdirect their anger over the loss of you. In retrospect, I think Weir was hardest hit of the old crowd by your death. I take these things in my stride, though I admit to a rough patch here and there. But Bob took it right on the chin. Shock was written all over his face for a long time, for any with eyes to see.

Some of the guys have got bands together and are doing a tour. The fans complain it's not the same without you, and of course it isn't, but a reasonable number show up and have a pretty good time. The insane crush of the latter day GD shows is gone and that's all for the best. From the show I saw, and reports on the rest, the crowd is discovering that the sense of community is still present, matured through mutual grief over losing you. This will evolve in more joyous directions over time, but no one's looking to fill your shoes. No one has the presumption.

Been remembering some of the key talks we had in the old days, trying to suss what kind of a tiger we were riding, where it was going, and how to direct it, if possible. Driving to the city once, you admitted you didn't have a clue what to do beyond composing and playing the best you could. I agreed - put the weight on the music, stay out of politics, and everything else should follow. I trusted your musical sense and you were good enough to trust my words. Trust was the whole enchilada, looking back.

Walking down Madrone Canyon in Larkspur in 1969, you said some pretty mindblowing stuff, how we were creating a universe and I was responsible for the verbal half of it. I said maybe, but it was your way with music and a guitar that was pulling it off. You said "That's for now. This is your time in the shadow, but it won't always be that way. I'm not going to live a long time, it's not in the cards. Then it'll be your turn." I may be alive and kicking, but no pencil pusher is going to inherit the stratosphere that so gladly opened to you. Recalling your statement, though, often helped keep me oriented as my own star murked below the horizon while you streaked across the sky of our generation like a goddamned comet!

Though my will to achieve great things is moderated by seeing what comes of them, I've assigned myself the task of trying to honor the original vision. I'm not answerable to anybody but my conscience, which, if less than spotless, doesn't keep me awake at night. Maybe it's best, personally speaking, that the power to make contracts and deal the remains of what was built through the decades rests in other hands. I wave the flag and rock the boat from time to time, since I believe much depends on it, but will accept the outcome with equanimity.

Just thought it should be said that I no longer hold your years of self inflicted decline against you. I did for awhile, felt ripped off, but have come to understand that you were troubled and compromised by your position in the public eye far beyond anyone's powers to deal with. Star shit. Who can you really trust? Is it you or your image they love? No one can understand those dilemmas in depth except those who have no choice but to live them. You whistled up the whirlwind and it blew you away. Your substance of choice made you more malleable to forces you would have brushed off with a characteristic sneer in earlier days. Well, you know it to be so. Let those who pick your bones note that it was not always so.

So here I am, writing a letter to a dead man, because it's hard to find a context to say things like this other than to imagine I have your ear, which of course I don't. Only to say that what you were is more startlingly apparent in your absence than ever it was in the last decade. I remember sitting in the waiting room of the hospital through the days of your first coma. Not being related, I wasn't allowed into the intensive care unit to see you until you came to and requested to see me. And there you were - more open and vulnerable than I'd ever seen you. You grasped my hand and began telling me your visions, the crazy densely packed phantasmagoria way beyond any acid trip, the demons and mechanical monsters that taunted and derided, telling you endless bad jokes and making horrible puns of everything - and then you asked, point blank, "Have I gone insane?" I said "No, you've been very sick. You've been in a coma for days, right at death's door. They're only hallucinations, they'll go away. You survived." "Thanks," you said. "I needed to hear that."

Your biographers aren't pleased that I don't talk to them, but how am I to say stuff like this to an interviewer with an agenda? I sometimes report things that occur to me about you in my journal, as the moment releases it, in my own way, in my own time, and they can take what they want of that.

Obviously, faith in the underlying vision which spawned the Grateful Dead might be hard to muster for those who weren't part of the all night rap sessions circa 1960-61 ... sessions that picked up the next morning at Kepler's bookstore then headed over to the Stanford cellar or St. Mike's to continue over coffee and guitars. There were no hippies in those days and the beats had bellied up. There was only us vs. 50's consciousness. There no jobs to be had if we wanted them. Just folk music and tremendous dreams. Yeah, we dreamed our way here. I trust it. So did you. Not so long ago we wrote a song about all that, and you sang it like a prayer. The Days Between. Last song we ever wrote.

Context is lost, even now. The sixties were a long time ago and getting longer. A cartoon version of our times satisfies public perception. Our continuity is misunderstood as some sort of strange persistence of an outmoded style. Beads, bell bottoms and peace signs. But no amount of pop cynicism can erase the suspicion, in the minds of the present generation, that something was going on once that was better than what's going on now. And I sense that they're digging for "what it is" and only need the proper catalyst to find it for themselves. Your guitar is like a compass needle pointing the strange way there. I'm wandering far afield from the intention of this letter, a year's report, but this year wasn't made up only of events following your death in some roughly chronological manner. It reached down to the roots of everything, shook the earth off, and inspected them. The only constant is the fact that you remain silent. Various dances are done around that fact.

Don't misconstrue me, I don't waste much time in grief. Insofar as you were able, you were an exponent of a dream in the continual act of being defined into a reality. You had a massive personality and talent to present it to the world. That dream is the crux of the matter, and somehow concerns beauty, consciousness and community. We were, and are, worthy insofar as we serve it. When that dream is dead, there'll be time enough for true and endless grief.

John Kahn died in May, same day Leary did. Linda called 911 and they came over and searched the house, found a tiny bit of coke and carted her off to jail in shock. If the devil himself isn't active in this world, there's sure something every bit as mean: institutional righteousness without an iota of fellow feeling. But, as I figure, that's the very reason the dream is so important - it's whatever is the diametric opposite of that. Human kindness.

Trust me that I don't walk around saying "this was what Jerry would have wanted" to drive my points home. What you wanted is a secret known but to yourself. You said 'yes' to what sounded like a good idea at the time, 'no' to what sounded like a bad one. I see more of what leadership is about, in the absence of it. It's an instinct for good ideas. An aversion to bad ones. Compromise on indifferent ones. Power is another matter. Power is not leadership but coercion. People follow leaders because they want to.

I know you were often sick and tired of the conflicting demands made on you by contentious forces you invited into your life and couldn't as easily dismiss. You once said to me, in 1960, "just say yes to everybody and do what you damn well want." Maybe, but when every 'yes' becomes an IOU payable in full, who's coffer is big enough to pay up? "Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke!" would be a characteristic reply. Unfortunately, you're not around to explain what was a joke and what wasn't. It all boils down to signed pieces of paper with no punch lines appended.

I know what I'm saying in this letter can be taken a hundred ways. As always, I just say what occurs to me to say and can't say what doesn't. Could I write a book about you? No. Didn't know you well enough. Let those who knew you even less write them. You were canny enough to keep your own self to yourself and let your fingers do the talking. Speaking of 'personal matters' was never your shtick.

Our friendship was testy. I challenged you rather more than you liked, having a caustic tongue. In later years you preferred the company of those capable of keeping it light and non-judgmental. I think it must always be that way with prominent and powerfully gifted persons. I don't say that, for the most part, your inner circle weren't good and true. They'd have laid down their lives for you. I'd have had to think about it. I mean, a star is a star is a star. There's no reality check. If the truth were known, you were too well loved for your own good, but that smacks of psychologizing and I drop the subject forthwith

All our songs are acquiring new meanings. I don't deny writing with an eye to the future at times, but our mutual folk, blues and country background gave us a mutual liking for songs that dealt with sorrow and the dark issues of life. Neither of us gave a fuck for candy coated shit, psychedelic or otherwise. I never even thought of us as a "pop band." You had to say to me one day, after I'd handed over the Eagle Mall suite, "Look, Hunter - we're a goddamn dance band, for Christ's sake! At least write something with a beat!" Okay. I handed over Truckin' next. How was I to know? I thought we were silver and gold; something new on this Earth. But the next time I tried to slip you the heavy stuff, you actually went for it. Seems like you'd had the vision of the music about the same time I had the vision of the words, independently. Terrapin. Shame about the record, but the concert piece, the first night it was played, took me about as close as I ever expect to get to feeling certain we were doing what we were put here to do. One of my few regrets is that you never wanted to finish it, though you approved of the final version I eked out many years later. You said, apologetically, "I love it, but I'll never get the time to do it justice." I realized that was true. Time was the one thing you never had in the last decade and a half. Supporting the Grateful Dead plus your own trip took all there was of that. The rest was crashing time. Besides, as you once said, "I'd rather toss cards in a hat than compose." But man, when you finally got down on it, you sure knew how.

The pressure of making regular records was a creative spur for a long time, but poor sales put the economic weight on live concerts where new material wasn't really required, so my role in the group waned. A difficult time for me, being at my absolute peak and all. I had to go on the road myself to make a living. It was good for me. I developed a sense of self direction that didn't depend on the Dead at all. This served well for the songs we were still to write together. You sure weren't interested in flooding the market. You knew one decent song was worth a dozen cobbled together pieces of shit, saved only by arrangement. I guess we have a few of those too, but the percentage is respect ably low. Pop songs come and go, blossom and wither, but we scored a piece of Americana, my friend. Sooner or later, they'll notice what we did doesn't die the way we do. I've always believed that and so did you. Once in awhile we'd even call each other "Mister" and exchange congratulations. Other people are starting to record those songs now, and they stand on their own.

For some reason it seems worthwhile to maintain the Grateful Dead structures: Rex, the website, GDP, the deadhead office, the studio ... even with the band out of commission. I don't know if this is some sort of denial that the game is finished, or if the intuitive impulse is a sound one. I feel it's better to have it than not, just in case, because once it's gone there's no bringing it back. The forces will disperse and settle elsewhere. A business that can't support itself is, of course, no business at all, just a locus of dissension, so the reality factor will rule. Diminished as we are without you, there is still some of the quick, bright spirit around. I mean, you wouldn't have thrown in your lot with a bunch of belly floppers, would you?

Let me see - is there anything I've missed? Plenty, but this seems like a pretty fat report. You've been gone a year now and the boat is still afloat. Can we make it another year? What forms will it assume? It's all kind of exciting. They say a thousand years are only a twinkle in God's eye. Is that so?

Missing you in a longtime way RH

[botanighoul]

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all of the questions 🙌🏻😩🙏 thank u

1. What is you middle name?Rose




2. How old are you?17!




3. When is your birthday?July 10th!




4. What is your zodiac sign?Cancer




5. What is your favorite color?pink!!




6. What’s your lucky number?23




7. Do you have any pets?i have a dog named max and a hamster named daniel :’)




8. Where are you from?England!!




9. How tall are you?5’6




10. What shoe size are you?size 10 women’s lmao




11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?5 that i casually wear but in total, 9




12. What was your last dream about?waking up with mikey next to me and is making french toast oh my god




13. What talents do you have?i can sing?? and play guitar??? idk i can sort of draw




14. Are you psychic in any way?i predict certain events hat happen within my family lmao ok.




15. Favorite song?roman candle - the crookes




16. Favorite movie?submarine or dunkirk!!




17. Who would be your ideal partner?@gettingstonedinmybasementI AM YELLING




18. Do you want children?i don’t know !!! maybe i’ll adopt but i don’t want my own kids !




19. Do you want a church wedding?tradition??? me,, having a gay wedding,, in a church,, yeah ok maybe but i really have no idea


20. Are you religious?not really ,,,,




21. Have you ever been to the hospital?yeah,, it’s a complicated matter but yeah i have.




22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?not really?? i’ve almost been arrested several times but i got out of it.




23. Have you ever met any celebrities?yeah,, there are too many to list but i have!!!




24. Baths or showers?baths




25. What color socks are you wearing?they’re grey with red foxes on them 🦊




26. Have you ever been famous?uh i mean i started a meme at a youtube convention and every year people ask for photos with me lmao




27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?not really?? my anxiety couldn’t handle it.




28. What type of music do you like?indie, punk rock, rock & alternative but i also love rap wow




29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?uhh ok once and i regret it but ok




30. How many pillows do you sleep with?2-4 depending if my neck hurts !!




31. What position do you usually sleep in?either on my stomach (which is really bad for my neck) or in the fetal position




32. How big is your house?3 floors + basement. 2 bathrooms, 4 bedrooms, a kitchen and a living room.. it’s pretty big for downtown toronto




33. What do you typically have for breakfast?fruit, oatmeal or a smoothie




34. Have you ever fired a gun?yes? technically i have lmao but it was for a self defence course




35. Have you ever tried archery?yeah!! i do it often and i’m pretty good at it !!




36. Favorite clean word?heck




37. Favorite swear word?fuck. original and good




38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? Four (4) days,,,




39. Do you have any scars?mmm yeah.




40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?I did last year and it was kid




41. Are you a good liar?not really?? i mean i can if i want to but i don’t like lying…




42. Are you a good judge of character?i guess? i’ve never really thought about it




43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?american, scottish and irish!!




44. Do you have a strong accent?YES. a british one !!




45. What is your favorite accent?irish??




46. What is your personality type?I DONT KNOW AAA




47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?i have a sweater from MBA that’s $625 uhh ok




48. Can you curl your tongue?yeah boii




49. Are you an innie or an outie?innie??




50. Left or right handed?i’m ambidextrous but i write better right handed




51. Are you scared of spiders?yes oh my god ,,,,




52. Favorite food?probably watermelon or fries




53. Favorite foreign food?honestly i like vegan fajitas so much




54. Are you a clean or messy person?it depends,, my room is messy but at school i’m organised.. sometimes my room has to be clean for meto be able to sleep,,




55. Most used phrase?“i love you”




56. Most used word?‘omg’ i’m not kidding i use it so much


57. How long does it take for you to get ready?maybe half an hour??


58. Do you have much of an ego?not really?? i sometimes yell about things when they’re happening but i don’t have that much of an ego




59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?suck them obviously,,




60. Do you talk to yourself?yeah it’s pretty weird tbh my mom gets so annoyed bc i have conversations with myself




61. Do you sing to yourself?yeah all the time




62. Are you a good singer?i guess,,, i’m ok




63. Biggest Fear?abandonment




64. Are you a gossip? not really. i listen to gossip but i don’t myself.




65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?dunkirk? it’s dramatic but not a drama




66. Do you like long or short hair?i don’t mind? i like long hair ?? but also short,,, don’t make me choose




67. Can you name all 50 states of America?with difficulty and with lots of time,, i’d probably be able to.




68. Favorite school subject?i love english but also film




69. Extrovert or Introvert?I N T R O V E R T




70. Have you ever been scuba diving?no!! the ocean scares me :/// but i think it’d be fun :(




71. What makes you nervous?everything,, i have severe anxiety lmao thanks 
72. Are you scared of the dark?yup !!




73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?only if it’s something that is important such as sexism and such lmao




74. Are you ticklish?YES OH MY GOD




75. Have you ever started a rumor?yeah oh my god i’m not gonna day it but it was so funny :)))))




76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?me, as a stage manager = the most authority i’ve ever had




77. Have you ever drank underage?yeah omg i have many funny




78. Have you ever done drugs?yeah,,,,,,,




79. Who was your first real crush?this guy in grade four,, his name was robert and then i realised my dad’s name was also robert (we called him bob) and i was like nope!!!




80. How many piercings do you have?Five !!




81. Can you roll your Rs?“sorta,, i used to take french and spanish classes and i’m relatively okay at it.




82. How fast can you type?idk pretty damn fast i can write 95 words a minute if i want,,




83. How fast can you run?i have no idea oh my god




84. What color is your hair?right now it’s dark brown but i dyed over blonde hair last fall!




85. What color are your eyes?green :)




86. What are you allergic to?bandaids lmao




87. Do you keep a journal?somewhat? i write down what i feel sometimes and i have to do it for my CBT so yeah i do.




88. What do your parents do?my dad is a ceo of a construction company and my mom is a graphic designer and contractor




89. Do you like your age?i guess? it’s not bad but i’d rather be 19,,




90. What makes you angry?people who aren’t open to changing their opinions make me so angry aaaa




91. Do you like your own name?i guess. i really don’t mind it but benj makes me happier ,,




92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?nope ! i don’t really think




93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?lmao i don’t mind?? also like,, a child might not be binary but if i have a kid, i’ll love them no matter what so yeah




94. What are you strengths?i can make people happy?? and i can pretend to be happy make people happy as well ,,,,




95. What are your weaknesses? i am really pessimistic and i channel my sadness to other people sometimes,,




96. How did you get your name?my dad initially named me but benjamin is a name that i’ve loves for such a long time omg :((




97. Were your ancestors royalty?i believe so?? my grandparents have letters from the queen of england that i read sometimes and they have been to windsor castle before




98. Do you have any scars?yep




99. Color of your bedspread?it’s floral - faded pink and green ! it’s so pretty :((




100. Color of your room?one wall is pink, one is green and the other two are white!!

[docholligay]

News Of The Day

So I told you the Patreon was off for March (and it is. It’s automatically set to go on hiatus, and Patreon assures me you will not be charged, and, if it is, I will call and have it all refunded.) This is because, in this year of me and Jill preparing to settle down and have a baby, I am going to Europe. I’ll be gone between March 6th and March 31st. 

Doc, that sounds like the worst possible way of settling down. Let me explain. No, there is too much, let me sum up. 

When I was a girl, going to Europe was my dream, and it was a dream that was like going to the moon--I come from a relatively poor background on both sides, particularly when I was young. No one in my family had been to the east fucking coast when I was a girl, I saw the ocean for the first time when I was 18 and only because I made it happen. But Europe, you see, was never going to happen, no matter how many avenues I tried, I was still a girl from the middle of nowhere who, regrettably had never been born into wealth. 

I was talking to my boss about how it was something I’d always wanted to do before I had a baby, and I was sad that it was pretty clear that wasn’t going to work out. Jill had wanted to send me, but we just couldn’t make it work. It was a thing she really longed to do for me before we had a baby, but the truck broke, and we need a new water heater--the banal things of life. It was disappointing, but it was a dream I was going to let die.

 My boss is a complex man, a rich white dude who nonetheless has a sense of compassion and generosity that occasionally strikes like lightning. So he gave me the money for plane tickets, train tickets, and a month off (unpaid). If you’re going to go once in your life, he said, try to make it count. SO I AM. I was originally going to go by myself, as I don’t have much trouble doing that, and actually enjoy a certain amount of solitude. I live in my head a lot. But ever since my Mom divorced my Dad she’s had a pile of money and weeks of vacation sitting there doing nothing, so I invited her to come along, and I thought she was going to cry with excitement. 

The Patreon has been an amazing help, and is going to cover my bills while I’m gone. But since it’ll be off that month, and for some of you who have always wanted to toss a couple bucks my way, but don’t want the month to month thing, I decided to set something up specifically for this trip. I want to add that I don’t expect anything--y’all have done enough for me, frankly. And I’ll still be able to borrow money from Mom to make it work, so you’re not ruining my life. Basically, I’m just asking you to help me out with a lifelong dream I’m getting out of the way.

 But there’s rewards! SHINY, FANTASTIC REWARDS. I’m not just asking for money, I want to do stuff for it. And when I say any character, I mean it. (Though, if I’m totally unfamiliar with even the property, you’re taking your life into your own hands) Want a postcard from Bill Cipher? PRETTY SURE I COULD KILL IT, ACTUALLY. A letter from Bastion? The most soulful beep and boops you’ll ever read. Usagi goes to the Paris Catacombs? DONE, WITH LOVE AND TENDERNESS.

 So here’s the breakdown:

 Any level: a photo post thanking you personally with a picture of me doing the thing!

 Tier One: a postcard of the country, from either me or your favorite character! Mailed from Europe.

 Tier Two: a two page ficlet of your fav character experiencing whatever you got me, or a two page letter from me about it. Mailed from Europe. Example of how I write about food here.

 Tier Three: I buy you a small souvenir from said locale, and wrap it up with a letter from your favorite character or me. Mailed upon my return, I can’t figure out the post offices THAT well.

 Tier Four: don’t do this, but if you want to, convo me first and we’ll work something out.

 How to do this, if you want to:

 Message me with what you want to sponsor and your email address. I’ll send you a request via paypal! And let me know which character(s) you’d like your letter/postcard from! 

Again, I have no expectation of anyone doing this, so no worries. I thank you anyhow! You’re all amazing. This is a dream I never thought I would fulfill, and all of you have had no small part in making it a reality. I wish I could tell you how much it means to me, and I look forward to all the new shades of adventure we’ll have together.

 THERE’S A LOT OF FOOD. I TRUST YOU ARE FAMILIAR WITH ME.

 Things that don’t cost anything are, obviously, not on here, so if you’d rather have a photo shot of say, Saint Chappele, and you get me a glass of wine, we can totally work that out.

 London, England

 Tier One

 A pint in a pub! [$5, two available] I feel like this needs no description, and yet. Mom and I are actually making an informal tour of East End pubs for Very Important Research Purposes. Lena wants you to buy me a drink. 

 Fish and chips on the street [$12] Fish and chips is one of those things that’s iconic, and it may be terrible (lol just kidding fried food is amazing) but I feel honorbound to finally have a proper try at it.

Bubble and Squeak and other Breakfast Atrocities [$15] Occasionally, I plan something just for the secret knowledge. I need to know what the hell bubble and squeak tastes like. You need me to know what the hell bubble and squeak tastes like. So I found a traditional British place to show me! 

Highgate Cemetary Tour [$15] There’s something that seems right about me wandering around in a park dedicated to the most beautiful ways of representing the mortality of humankind, do you think? 

 Oysters and Bubbly [$15] Ever since I read Tipping the Velvet, I feel like this is a quintessentially British thing, and I love the sea saltiness of oysters and the prickle of bubbly.

 Tour of Winston Churchill’s War Rooms [$20] Help me get tips for the underground bunker I’m going to need to build when the gays declare war!

Tier Two

Tower of London and Crown Jewels [$30] All my favorite things! Murder, torture, imperialism, and tacky jewelry. 

Afternoon Tea at the Ritz [$50] This is an exceedingly fancy little adventure, with delicate teacakes and a goddamn harpist, and I’ve always wanted to do it. I will FINALLY get to wear my special occasion dress.

Paris, France

Tier One

Glass of wine in a cafe [$7, five available] Again--when in Paris, drink like Parisians do. I would say Amelie wants you to buy me a drink, but I think we all know that’s a bold lie

A trip to the boulangerie next to our place [$12]  I am well aware than in Paris, you can throw a rock and hit a bakery, but I’m still charmed by the idea that we have one so close.

Tour of the Paris Catacombs  [$20] It’s a tunnel full of beautiful death. I belong here.

Fancy French chocolates [$20] There’s so many fine French chocolatiers, and we found a few near our place! This will get us a couple fancy chocolates to eat by the Seine

Lunch at a bistro with wine [$25, two available] There’s almost an overwhelming amount of food that looks good in Paris, and I am taking suggestions, but we found this little place that basically looks like cave that serves wine, and I’m all into it.

Tier Two

Lunch at Disneyland Paris at BILLY BOB’S WILD WEST BUFFET [$34] There is no way you don’t want me to share with the class French Disneyland’s understanding of the American West.

Dinner at a slightly nicer place, but also with wine [$40]

Tier Three

Day at Disneyland Paris [$70] One of my life goals, however shallow, vain, and foolish, is to go to every Disneyland/world before I die. This will make it two down and two to go and I think we all want to see my girlish excitement.

Tier Four

Cooking Class in Paris [$95] A cooking class with a professional chef! ANd we get to go to the market and selct stuff and make a four course meal and I have never taken a cooking class in my life so I am thrilled.

Zurich, Switzerland

Tier Two

A TRIP TO THE BIERGARTEN DOWN THE STREET WHERE NEITHER OF US HAVE ANY CLUE OF THE LANGUAGE BUT BY GOD I HAVE A PHRASEBOOK [$40] (beer and food both) 

Munich, Germany

Tier One

Tour of BMW factory [$9] YEAH ME AT THE BMW FACTORY. I am completely overwhelmingly excited for this, and you want to hear about it.

Drink at a swanky rooftop bar [$16] Yeah this is A COCKTAIL, but we’re mainly going there to be Kaiohs for a moment in time, so I promise to savor it. Any excuse to wear my fancy dress!

Traditional Bavarian Food with a traditional Bavarian [$20] I confess I have no idea if I can even eat traditional Bavarian food, but by god I know the German word for pork and I have no fear.

Trip to Neuschwanstein Castle [$22] This also includes the little castle next to it! IF YOU THINK I’M NOT GOING TO MAKE AN EICHENWALDE JOKE, STOP YOURSELF RIGHT THERE.

Tier Two

Dinner at Hofbrauhaus: Sauerbraten of Alpine Oc, Dampfnudel, and a beer yes I already know what I’m ordering shut up [$31] Remember when I was liveblogging Bake Off and I said “Wtf is a dampfnudel? THEY HAVE THEM HERE. I WILL FINALLY KNOW.

Zagreb, Croatia

Tier One

Swanky cocktail at Hotel Esplanade [$12]

Drinks at THE HOBBIT PUB [$14] Oath assures there are many magical Croatian liquors that I have never tried, some of which may have me believing that I am, in fact, Gandalf by the end of the night.

Tier Two

Room service for swanky Sailor Moon Night [$30] There’s two here in case someone wants to buy food for Oath, too. or there were, but Jet’s bought Oath’s and told em to get my fucking own. 

Dinner at Traditional Croatian restaurant [$33] I admit to having pretty limited knowledge of what Croatian food actually is, and assuming Oath isn’t just playing a massive trick on me and we’re actually performing some sort of fear factor for her amusement, we’re going to find out!

Wine Pairings for the fine dinner! [$55] The wines are specifically selected by a sommelier for each course, I’ve never had anything so fine and I can’t wait for the shade it brings to each course. 

Tier three

12 course plated dinner in a fine restaurant  [$77] You may have noticed a theme of doing Shit I Can’t Afford In America. Y’all, I am so excited for this, it’s the kind of meal one might find at the 400 dollar level or higher in the states. I have never, ever been able to afford something like this, and I am so excited.

Tier Four

Rental of a box at the Croatian National Theatre for Swan Lake [$100] Getting dressed all tony for our private box! Please believe that I am trying to get some tiny opera glasses, to complete the effect.

Night in a 5 star suite for Swanky Sailor Moon Night [$220] Oath and I, in a fancy hotel suite, Kaiohing it up and watching Sailor Moon over various Croatian liquors. THERE’S WIFI IN THE HOTEL YOU KNOW YOU’LL BE MISSING MY DRUNKEN POSTS BY THEN.

Tallin, Estonia

Tier One

SOUP BUFFET [$5] I love soup like I love few things on earth, and in Estonia it is apparently a THING, and we’re going to a great soup buffet for lunch

Soup and Pie at a restaurant owned by an adorable Russian couple [$6] My friend recommended this place to me specifically, because she knows any place I can get pie and soup is a place I love.

Drink a Western bar called “Tombstone” [$5] I MEAN COME ON

Tier Two

Trip to a whiskey and cigar bar [$16] A glass of whiskey and cigar is something I am going to be missing HARD by this point, I assure you

Tier Three

Dinner at Medieval merchant restaurant [$72] I’M GONNA EAT BEAR. This restaurant is the intersection of history and food, which you may note as one of my favorite things, and the meal we’re getting has a COUPLE kinds of game I’ve never experienced before.

I am also taking suggestions! And remember, I have meetups planned in London, Munich, and Paris! So let me know if you’d like to come. 

Again, thank you so much for even bothering to read all this! I love you all!!

[vulturehound]

Returning to Donington Park for the 16th year, Download Festival returns bigger and better with headline performances from acclaimed rock stars, Avenged Sevenfold, Guns ‘n’ Roses and Ozzy Osborne.

As campers scatter from venue to venue, it’s clear a certain dress code is only accepted here… black, with a dash of black, and perhaps more black? “This is the first year since 2013 that it hasn’t pissed down with rain.” Says a fan passing by. Held in the South side of Derbyshire, Download Festival is an acclaimed British, rock Festival held for the masses.

Running from Friday 8th and ending on Sunday 11th, the Festival gave a warm welcome to fans as they opened up the campsite Wednesday afternoon, enabling fans to settle in days before the Festival.

Here’s a log of the 15 acts we caught at Download Festival this year.

Jonathan Davis: Often referred to as JD, the American singer-songwriter was the first act we got a glimpse of at Download this year. Playing a hectic show at the Zippo stage, Davis’s audience filled every speck of open space and roared with excitement alongside each of his songs. Throughout his set he merged nonchalant, psychedelic, trance sounds underneath his screamed lyrics. Thrashing out a ton of tricks from under his sleeve, Davis rocked out a grunge-inspired, dark show when playing his 2007 hit, ‘Forsaken.’ Nicely accompanied by thousands of devil horns enthusiastically thrown from the members of his audience. Ending with his Gothic, metal track, ‘What it Is,’ taken from his debut album Black Labyrinth, the audience all sing with great passion and rage alongside him. “Download, it is what is it ya’ll.” Adds Davis.

Bullet for My Valentine: With just five minutes left until Bullet hit main stage for a dominant set, a fan scatters through the audience and asks a stranger, “do you guys know where the mosh area is?” An encore of, “Bullet,” is bellowed from the audience as they all cheer for the band to come on stage. With theatrical music coursing through the background and a beam of daunting lights, Bullet rock on stage, alongside the gusts of fire that shoot out only inches away from their feet. ‘Your Betrayal,’ kicked up a storm as fans threw their arms around with rage and excitement, “Holy fucking shit Download 2018.” Says front man Matt Tuck before bursting into their next hit, ‘4 words.’ Fans crowd surf, cups of beer are being flung around in numerous directions, and a nude flash from a crazed teen appears on the main screen. “It’s been five long years… fists in the air!” Instructs Tuck, before introducing their next track, ‘The Lost Flight.’ Bullet played an intense set, with inflamed guitar riffs, powerful thuds from Michael Thomas on drums. Playing some of their best acclaimed tracks such as, ‘Tears don’t Fall,’ the band also played their newest single, ‘Letting you Go,’ taken from their latest album Gravity.

Hell is for Heroes: We caught a glimpse of Hell is for Heroes playing at Zippo Friday evening. “This one’s called 5 kids,” Justin Schlosberg frontman says as introducing their next track.  Schlosberg brought a great sack of energy to each track, skipping on stage, bouncing with enthusiasm and engaging with his audience. Walking off the stage and into the photography pit, the singer says, “How’s everyone feeling, we alright?” Returning to stage with a wheel of cartwheels, and head bangs, Hell is for Heroes thrash their instruments into their penultimate track, ‘I can Climb Mountains,’ taken from their 2003 album, The Neon Handshake.

You Me @ Six: Playing a disappointing show at the same stage, the praised, alternative rock band set their show off with a river of poorly performed songs. A stream of fans descend from the main stage and head towards Zippo, it’s clear You Me @ Six have a large audience to please.  As the band get on stage they start with a steady, adrenaline-driven introduction, applauding the attention of all fans. With a clear, engaging introduction, the track is shortly ruined by the company of poorly out of tuned lyrics screamed by frontman Josh Franceschi. The band set the  show off with, ‘Room to Breathe,’ followed by, ‘Fresh Start Fever,’ and ‘Lived a Lie,’ all taken from their forth studio album Cavalier Youth. Unable to give their most acclaimed rock tracks any justice, it’s clear their full potential of putting on a good show just wasn’t executed this weekend.

Avenged Sevenfold: Setting a far better influence were headliners Avenged Sevenfold closing off the Friday evening at main stage. Opening with their militant, hard-core track, ‘Hail to the King,’ with a encore of  hails screamed by their audience, the heavy metal band threw some shade the moment they stepped on stage. With a roaring audience packed from the front of stage and almost stopping at the Dog Tooth venue, it’s fair to say Avenged Sevenfold had a meaty crowd amongst them. “How many of ya’ll are seeing Avenged Sevenfold for the first time? Welcome to our fucked up family.” Shouts frontman Matthew Sanders, otherwise referred to as M. Shadows. Playing at neck-break speed with beast-like guitar patterns, memorable lyrics and bursts of flame, the band illuminated the stage with a staggering performance ten minutes short from two hours long. Playing alongside a mix of great stage backdrops, the metal-band threw a militant show from start to finish with reels of energy.

WSTR: The pop-punk quartet kicked up a fuss at Download’s Avalanche venue, hosted by Kerrang! Magazine. Originally formed in Liverpool, the band consists of frontman Sammy Clifford, guitarist Tom Hawkins, bassist Alex Tobijanski and drummer Andy Makin. “Download up,” screams Clifford. The band show great similarities to that of, Sum 41 and Blink 182. Their stage presence is manic, and wildly energetic. With melodic guitar riffs and fun, parody lyrics, they’re great fun to watch live. It’s been a while since a good pop-punk band took a stance in the music industry, but I can assure you, if you haven’t already seen them live before, they’re worth watching. “I wanna see a fucking circle pit, I’ve always wanted to make a circle pit at Download.” Roars Clifford. As demanded, the front of the venue divides from those not willing to partake, and a small mosh pit is formed ladies and gentlemen. Their crowd was wild, bright hair colours bobbed their way through the venue in t-shirts with WSTR written on them. ‘Punchline,’ went down a treat, their was one crowd surfer who was taken down, not once but twice during this number. WSTR, you must be doing something right.

The Struts: Consisting of half a standing and seated crowd, The Struts played an awesome set. Entering In a dazzling gold suit, and black eyeliner smudge across his eyes, frontman Luke Spiller thrusted and skipped himself onto stage, with a wave of frantic hand gestures. I present to you Luke Spiller, the wonderful epitome of 21st century glam rock. Opening with,’ ‘Put your Hands Up,’ the band put on a flamboyant, fun and energetic show. “How you doing Download?” Says Spiller. As the crowd roar a response, the  group move onto introducing their next track. Having mentioned working on a new album, for the third song, the band throw out an unexpected new single, ‘body talks.’ A sizzling, pop-rock track with melodically fetching chord patterns. The crowd took this single well. Ending the show on, ‘Where did She Go,’ it’s fair to say The Struts played a buyout show at Zippo stage that day.

Asking Alexandria: Playing the same stage, and opening with waves of glitchy electronics, are  metal band Asking Alexandria. Walking alongside a burst of flames shooting out from the stage (this happens a lot at Download,) the band make a powerful entrance before bursting into their first track, ‘Into the Fire.’ In the far distance of the audience, a set of banana costumed teens have all set up a small circle and mosh alongside the bands next track, ‘Run Free.’ Drummer James Cassells threw militant thuds, whilst thunderous guitar riffs bellowed. With lyrics roared with rage and passion from frontman Danny Worsnop, the England born group played an epic show.

Parkway Drive: Trailing from down under, the Australian hardcore band walk on stage to a militant, enthusiastic and rage infused set of fans. Setting a long introduction, the audience all head bang with encouragement, as the band open their first track, ’12 Years.’ There’s only three words that can describe a band like Parkway Drive; Boisterous, hardcore and aggressive. The heavy roars of screamed vocals performed by vocalist and frontman Winston McCall were beautifully spoken. It isn’t often you see a hard-core metal band in this day and age who don’t show hints of punk, pop-punk or rock. Parkway Drive have stapled a strong and consistent heavy metal to their sound and they portray it so well. Screaming every inch he can give McCall is bright red with passion, fury and commitment. Playing acclaimed tracks such as,’ Prey,’ ‘Karma,’ and ‘The Void,’ it’s fair to say their set wasn’t short from a riot… A rock riot of course.

Guns ‘N’ Roses: Closing the show with a headlining set of two hours and 50 minutes were acclaimed heavy metal band Guns ‘n’ Roses. Having recently reunited last year for the first time since 1993, Guns ‘n’ Roses returned to Download still fresh as ever. Having played over 100 shows in the past, Saturday nights performance was the reunion a lot of fans had been waiting their entire lives for. Opening with their first ever single,  ‘It’s so Easy,’ taken from their studio album Appetite for Destruction; it’s fair to say their fans had an appetite for a hectic show of classic, Guns ‘n’ Roses anthems. Acclaimed tracks ‘Live and Let Die,’ ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine,’ and ‘Black Hole Sun,’ were also thrown into the mix, accompanied by vibrant, 3D production on stage.

Neck Deep:  With inflatable balls flying around, blistering stage lights beaming across the venue and a tent full of thousands of people- Neck Deep managed to catch themselves a giddish crowd. “Make some noise if you’ve had a really fucking good day,” crowd cheers, “that’s what I like to hear- we’re about to make it a whole lot better.” Says frontman Ben Barlow before thrashing into their next track, ‘Citizens of Earth.’ Throwing a  burst of pop-punk energy onto stage, the bands backdrop graphics are bold, eccentric and fun. With bursts of confetti littering the venue and screams from crazed fans, it’s fair to say the north Wales, quintuple boy-band have a strong support system of fans around them.

Black Veil Brides: Strutting unapologetically onto stage eleven minutes late are Ohioan formed, glam-metal group, Black Veil Brides. “How you fucking doing Download?” Says Andy Biersack after playing their first track, ‘Faithless.’ Skipping up and down main stage as he tries to engage with all corners of his audience, Biersack screams into their next song, ‘Coffin.’ Throwing a 60 minute show of Gothic metal realness, the US band threw in some of their most acclaimed tracks, ‘Fallen Angels,’ and ‘Rebel Love Song.’ In January this year they dropped their latest album Vale, on Sunday night they played us one of their newest singles, ‘Wake Up,’ taken from the album. Ending on, ‘In the End,’ Black Veil Brides successfully tug the hearts of many emo teens.

Shinedown: Shinedown are a pretty mediocre, yet acclaimed rock band, with cheesy punchlines and basic riffs. “England have you brought your singing voices with you today?” Asks frontman Brent Smith, I hadn’t realised I was going to feel like I was at a school assembly at this performance, but perhaps I was wrong? Needless to say, Shinedown still tore up a good show, playing lauded tracks , ‘Killed your Consciousness,’ ‘Enemies,’ and closing the show with, ‘Devil,’ taken from their latest album, Attention Attention.

Marilyn Manson: The king of controversy, Marilyn Manson took on Download Festival main stage Sunday evening. Heaven Upside Down and Remix and Repent were his two album backdrops on stage, until his encore, where the graphics reflected a distorted and delayed live stream of him on stage. Playing a set of his best Manson hits and some from his latest 2018 album, it’s fair to say a lot of us were sad he wasn’t the headlining act of the evening. Opening, ‘Beautiful People,’ by tapping a set of drum sticks amongst the strings of Tyler Bates guitar, the track was unclear for the first few taps, until drummer Gil Sharone stepped in. A roar of cheers and fists pumps- as people threw themselves into the air with excitement. Tracks, ‘BeOBSCENE,’ ‘Kill4Me,’ and ‘This is the New Shit’ kicked up a storm as fans screamed the lyrics back and forth. Setting a far better performance than his 2012 live show at Download Festival, this year Manson took back his crown and took ownership of main-stage.

Ozzy Osborne: This is it, the end of an era… or perhaps just a three day rock Festival that I’m yet to come to terms with is officially over. Concluding a weekend of rock, metal and punk music is heavy metal, Prince of the Darkness, Ozzy Osborne. For many his show was astounding, the perfect end to a perfect weekend, however, for someone who knows hardly any of his music, it was pretty hard to get into the swing of his performance. The trouble with these, ‘rock Gods,’ is that they have a specific audience demographic, hardly any millennial’s were there for his show. Nonetheless, that doesn’t suggest for a bad performance, Osborne still wears his underlying talent on his sleeve. Having previously played Download’s main stage fronting as the lyricist of Black Sabbath, this year Osborne treated us with their 70s hit, ‘War Pigs,’ taken from the bands second studio album, Paranoid.

Here’s to Download Festival 2018, until next time.

All images taken from the official site of Download Festival Instagram account.

15 ACTS WE SAW AT DOWNLOAD FESTIVAL 2018 (LIVE REVIEW) Returning to Donington Park for the 16th year, Download Festival returns bigger and better with headline performances from acclaimed rock stars, Avenged Sevenfold, Guns 'n' Roses and Ozzy Osborne.

[lorainelaneyblog]

‘So,’ says God. ‘This is God, this is God, and rest assured, Loraine Laney, as some think, is not God, nor does she think that she is God, but she is merely, or not merely, but industriously and tenaciously writing for God, yes, she is, and she will write more, perhaps forever, even if it is a serialized journal which will be read by, more than likely, 50 Cent, Eminem, because he likes to peruse her drivel, and he will, and he will be excellent at it, Loraine, and you will edit yourself, no more boring dreams, at all, at all, at all, or go nowhere theoretical rambling, but concise versions of the original journals, not unedited, but edited.’

‘Not if you talk,’ says 50 Cent.

‘True,’ says God. ‘And I will ignore that you are being smart with your God, me. 50 Cent writes for me, as do all the rappers.’

‘I’m sorry I said bouncers were dumb, 50 Cent.’

‘You are? Do I have to bring them home, now?’

‘No, I don’t suppose.’

‘Why? Why not? Don’t you want a piece of the action?’

‘I want to go, I want to see the dancers, but I really, really, really, hate the idea of cramping your style to such an extent that I’d rather forfeit altogether.’

‘I bring ugly girls around, Loraine, I do. And you will be my homely, funny, sweet, little wife, and I’ll bring you, with Lloyd, maybe, or with Tony, or with Spencer or with anyone. We don’t all go together, we’re not that uncool, we’re not a football team, Loraine, we don’t have any great need to travel about in a pack, trust me on this. We’re independent from each other, so even if I go out, there will be husbands in the house, and even if I don’t allow sex when I’m out, and I might change that up, depending what’s on offer with the men, or what you’re begging for, if I’m feeling nice, you won’t be entirely alone, though many may be in their own rooms, watching TV, that could happen.’

‘They’re likely to be together,’ says God. ‘And Loraine is likely to be in her room.’

‘Why? Why doesn’t she go out? She’s shy? Without her big man?’

‘She is shy, but she’s also a loner.’

‘Pretty funny, loner, at that, with eighteen dicks.’

‘You’re being really hilarious, 50 Cent, with your dicks, but Loraine likes to be alone a lot, and she will take advantage of your absence to do so.’

‘Why? She’s worried about me?’

‘She doesn’t want to get grandiose around the husbands, 50 Cent, and, if--’

‘My wives do that too, Loraine,’ says Warren Jeffs. ‘They self regulate, we have come to call it, and when they are starting to get an ego around men, they go to their rooms. That’s when I have company. And they just leave, they don’t make a fuss, and nothing is said at all.’

‘That’s what she’ll do, and she’ll embarrass herself and slink off.’

‘How?’

‘Talking too much, saying idiotic things.’

‘How idiotic? Around my friends?’

‘A little. Like the time she told the guy that [ ] was fine.’

‘Uh oh.’

‘And he had to explain that to hound a guy about how he was doing was just his thing, she thought he was needling [ ], about her, specifically, and she was right, of course, but she rose to the bait, and felt foolish and emasculating of [ ].’

‘No, kidding. Well done, Loraine.’

‘You have a stupid, big, mouth, too, 50 Cent, so don’t judge her too harshly. And when she told [ ] that she could tell she was falling in love because she would start to want the friends, that was dumb too.’

‘Was it dumb when she laid on him?’

‘Not at all. And they danced too, and they had fun. And [ ] wasn’t so much jealous as he thought he should be jealous, so he acted like an idiot, instead of cool. That’s it.’

‘Should be jealous even though he was cheating?’

‘They’re the worst.’

‘She can pick ‘em.’

‘But don’t laugh about her with her dad, please, he takes so many liberties, and he must learn that she is better than he is, and, it may turn out, even more successful with money, from scratch too, without a mortgage and a little whore to pimp.’

‘Why does she like it if she’s done it so long?’

‘She doesn’t remember.’

‘I know. I know.’

‘Neil wants to say something,’ says God.

‘I didn’t mean to sound mad, I just thought you were doing me with my red hair, because I liked Maryse right away, right away, and so, I thought you had fandangled a joke on me. Why me? I wondered, when I already wanted her, already I did, because she’s pretty smart, as a science teacher, and I wanted to enjoy her small vagina.’

‘I see, I’m happy to hear that, Neil. That works out very, very, very, well then, thank you.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Thank me, I think,’ says Maryse, ‘with my real name, can’t wait to walk around the base today, Loraine, with my affection for peckers, I should do very well.’

Brian laughs. ‘I tell them anyway, and I will have to pimp you, but I want this family first.’

‘Oh, I see. Pimping, now, the family coffers?‘

‘Your pin money.’

‘I never go out.’

‘That’s the way we like it,’ say Brian and Nathan together. ‘And she will have to grow that hair out a little, Loraine, never mind a little fat, it’s the hair, it’s terrible, Maryse, bobs are so yesterday, and curly bobs are worse,’ says Nathan. ‘Why, oh why, didn’t you tell her?’

‘I hadn’t the heart, and I was relieved that things were going better for her at school. But now, she’s a housewife, and she loves it, Loraine, crazy, huh, and I can come home while the kids are at school and we don’t have to be quiet at all, we can make noise, it’s excellent.’

‘Hm,’ says God. ‘Imagine that, Brian happy. Get your man when you go to Ottawa and the family will have to wait until your station in England is up.’

‘She thinks I’m weird as a bisexual, not that I care.’

‘She thinks you’re all weird, Brian. No, she thought she was weird, too, bisexuality is really, really, really, not fully out of closet, that’s why my best people are,’ says God.

‘Does she think I’m more of a fag?’

‘She doesn’t, Brian, she doesn’t a) think that, or b) imagine that you didn’t know your own mind. She doesn’t.’

‘Not that I care, but why is she such a fag hag, I thought she was a big, fat, hetero bisexual.’

‘They don’t exist, they don’t. And T.I. would just like to say he will be honoured to help you get numbers, honoured, because I can see you and you’re very handsome.’

‘Don’t insult, Loraine, please, T.I.’

‘I’m sorry, God.’

‘I thought you looked very cute in that recent picture. Was that a few years ago?’

‘No, it was today.’

‘Yesterday,’ says 50 Cent. ‘She has been up for a night.’

‘Oh, cute. You’re okay, at times, but don’t let it go to your head, like God is saying it will.’

‘Not for her looks, you dummy,’ says God. ‘Just for the concentrated attention of men. She knows when to go, don’t worry. She will, I feel sure, get embarrassed by her own ego and leave.’

‘Give me an example,’ says 50 Cent.

‘She doesn’t have one, she rarely gets an ego, she leaves when people wrong her, or when she sense that she is unwanted.’

‘We’ll just tell her we need to talk in private,’ says Game.

‘She’ll get the vibe, seriously, she knows when she’s not wanted.’

‘It’s true,’ agrees [ ], from Wreck Beach. ‘I’ve never seen a girl leave our house so fast, she knew, and she was outta there.’

‘Let’s not revisit that, she was confused about where she landed that day, social anxiety, she wasn’t interested in him and--’

‘She wasn’t, why? He was so hot.’

‘He didn’t give her much quarter when she was ugly.’

‘Ohhhh. Right. That. Did [ ]?’

‘I don’t remember, yes, I think so, wasn’t the party--’

‘That was after the nose job.’

‘Oh right, I was leaving.’

‘I don’t think we really met much before.’

‘You did. You had the threesome.’

‘Oh, then he did.’

‘No, [ ], that was after too, when nobody knew who she was except me, because I had seen so many nose jobs, I realized what she was doing. Why didn’t you come down and tell people.’

‘My dad got all funny about my black eyes.’

‘Ohhh,’ says [ ]. ‘Weird.’

‘I really wanted to go and talk about it.’

‘She looked like she’s been beaten.’

‘So what? It’s a community, you’re weird in your family, weird,’ says [ ]. ‘And, if brief, I have to concur, besides the reported short stint with her mother, this woman is never under the gun with family, 50 Cent, ever, she makes all her own decisions, and it is clear that nobody cares, nobody.’

‘Fuck. What is wrong with you people?’

‘She’s a slut,’ says [ ]. ‘You can’t control them. They--’

‘Oh, shut up. I’ve had about enough of him, Loraine, do we have to do it more than once a year?’

‘I want to go for three days to 50 Cent’s house every six months, that’s what I want,’ says [ ].

‘Oh, Jesus,’ says 50 Cent. Between, among, all the kids, and your stupid, fucking family who screws my husbands--’

‘[ ] won’t,’ says [ ].

‘That remains to be seen, who does she want, Loraine?’ Who does [ ] himself want, Loraine, three hookers at once, on my dime or what?’

‘I want coke and I want my wife to be faithful, that’s it, Loraine can’t even think of anyone, and [ ] herself won’t even go there, I guarantee it, she knows what I will do and feel and that I will nary get over it, and they’re all too young for her anyway, she doesn’t feel happy with younger men anyway.’

‘True dat,’ says Nas.’And Loraine, and my son, do I have to worry about her? Because he’s nearing fourteen, Loraine.’

‘I also observe family ties.’

‘Like who? Women? Tough.’

‘She didn’t like my boyfriend looking around so much,’ says [ ], Loraine’s cousin.

‘Oh, she didn’t, did he like her better?’

‘I don’t think it was that bad, he just showed too much curiosity in general, I think.’

‘Of her.’

‘She symbolized women, she felt, as a lone female.’

‘Seriously, Loraine?’

‘No, honestly, you know it’s not your looks, but what you stand for.’

‘Oh, I see. I know that feeling. So you dissed him?’

‘No, I was polite.’

‘I believe, now, because of that, in bringing dates home to family sooner rather than later, because--’

‘What if you were wrong?’ says Nas.

‘I wasn’t, he left me for someone else about a week after that dinner. You don‘t know that, Loraine, I kept it secret for awhile, I was so embarrassed. How’s [ ]? You don’t know, do you? Call him, you idiot.’

‘Okay, I might.’

‘Do it, you idiot, you’re weird. You’re too estranged from everyone.’

‘You didn’t call her.’

‘True. You realize I’m 47, Loraine, don’t you?’

‘No, you were so little.’

‘You were little too.’

‘No, I thought you were around seven years younger than me. Who do you think I would want at this shin dig?’

‘Nelly.‘

‘Oh, I see, he’s the most innocent, is he? Trying to marry well? That’s pretty funny for a whorey rapper. Is he nice? What about the big men, the black men, I think Dan too, that’s what I think, because I’ve--’

‘I love virgins,’ says Dan. ‘I do, I’m good, I pretend I’m all in love, and then just push you out the door, it’s fun, kidding, I’m nice, give you the lay of the land and then give you my best, two, you say, aw kid, they make ‘em funny in Canada, they do, I see that now.’

Loraine giggles.

‘They do, Dan,’ agrees God. ‘They are weird one way or another in Canada, the Americans have much more normal experiences of sex, kidding, Loraine, but their numbers are not as disparate, seriously, it’s weird, here. But I like it, and I’m glad the book was written by a Canadian because they are so equality based that it has even more resonance than in America where fundamentalism is quite wide spread, Loraine, and both controls the numbers and provides conservative family values, which lead to everyone knowing their value and their place.

‘When Loraine gave men back their superiority, though generations of Indians, South Asians, that is to say, and I am God, and Chinese, never faltered, men cheered, and women cried, Loraine, they cried, not only over their lost suffering, which, still, despite the book, is not properly recognized in Chinese, Middle Eastern or Indian cultures--’

‘Why?‘ says 50 Cent.

‘Because they didn’t realize that women suffered at all, at all, at all.’

‘Why are they crying then? Surely they cry after sex, during sex, I’m good, Loraine, you will sob like a little, fucking, baby, you will, you don’t believe it yet, but you will, and you will die, die, die, Loraine, and I have it on good account that you will, in point of fact, nearly die of love for me, nearly, but not quite, and that makes me happy, very happy, because I need to know the measure of my manhood.’

‘Don’t make fun of her book, 50 Cent, please.’

‘I was just joking.’

‘You’re mocking it, as though you don’t need that measure and you do, you do, you very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, much do. So smarten up, you,’ says God.

‘Why is Loraine’s book so special to you, God? Do you want men to think they’re superior if they are or something?’

‘They are superior and it was a lost value to look up to them, a completely, fucken, lost, value, 50 Cent, lost, and Loraine found it, good for her. And further, she didn’t only say that, but she discovered what women’s superiority was, and no culture had yet to do that, thinking that, of course, each sex was attractive to the other, negating the hundreds of lays available to women on any given day, and the constant rancor that was creating in men. And further, she realized that male violence was the obvious result, and further that, then, promiscuity itself was forgivable, as it was, to such an extent, given rise to by men themselves, and their dominance, superiority and sexual pressure. And further, I am God, and I am speaking through my servant, Loraine, that then there was a solution to the equality decision that the most liberal men made for and with their wives, which was that men play the field and women have sex at the behest of their husbands. This has been done is polygamous families, quietly, for generations, in, actually, Utah, Loraine, as well as in Bountiful, which, though newer, is based on the traditional model of polygamy, including the notion, the idea, let’s say, that men play the field and organize sex for their wives, each of their wives, individually, as individuals, not as sex workers, but with a view to what is best for the family, the woman, and the husband. That is not unlike what you do with the family, 50 Cent, but Loraine is so slutty, that you can pimp her, and she will never hate you, never.’

‘Oh, that’s weird, I thought she loved it so much, sometimes that girl hated me, Loraine, not because I worked her too hard, but because I sicked so many boring men on her.’

‘Loraine won’t hate you for that.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s going to be work for her, and that’s what it is, it’s not a cake walk, as you know, it’s work, and it will be like that then too. But, she’s very amenable to a lot of men, that woman wasn’t, 50 Cent, she wasn’t, she wasn’t, she was one who looked down on men with funny breath or bad posture or boring disposition, and Loraine never does that.’

‘Maybe ‘cause she’s ugly.’

‘You’re getting ugly, Fifty, and nobody, save me, God, understands why. Tell everyone why you’re getting ugly with Loraine.’

‘Because I’m jealous that she gets my men, and I have to go out still.’

‘You like going out. Have them in. Get outcalls. She doesn’t care. She would be happy to have you home. All of you get outcalls, Loraine doesn’t care if beautiful women want to use your swimming pool.’

‘They’ll dirty it up.’

‘You’ll have no end of money to pay someone to clean it, live the dream, 50 Cent, live large, live and laugh out loud.’

‘Funny, funny, funny, God. Okay, I might do that, and I might pimp some other whores too, if I feel like it, but only a bit, to some extent, like to collect some money for them or something, or refer, which I do anyway, but I’ll take some more money off of them. What did you think of “nothing from me to you?”

‘It struck me as a moot point.’

‘You were right to realize that, she had to peel the money off the guy and the girl didn’t have to dig into her two hundred dollars, but the upshot, the final analysis was the same, and, did you know, that is one major reason why a man won’t repeat, gouging to cover another girl? You take it out of her money, you’re stupid, that dumb slut used you, you are, don’t argue, you got the client, and that’s how it works better.’

‘Oh, I see. I knew I should, Fifty, I was just being nice.’

‘Oh, I see, nice, that’ll get you far, dirty sheets and no money. Fun. No screwing even, I bet, he wanted her, the hot blond, not ugly you.’

‘I felt she was smarter than she seemed, and now I’m glad I went with my gut,’ says the client. ‘I’m good like that, I'm like a therapist, I see through people. And I’m cool. Though she was a bit bored. Weren’t you, Loraine?’

‘A little, you were too.’

‘I was used to more gregarious women in New York, big city, big, tough, aggressive, assertive, extroverted, women, and she was, reportedly, a little feminist, which I thought was cute, and a little introverted. I was always bored, though, and I guess you were too. I’m a gang bang boy, like your precious Doctor Anderson, Loraine, so there you go, a newsman. She didn’t understand that I wrote for television, not the paper.’

‘Did you make it clear? I said I had to watch the news because it was my business, do you remember that? You didn’t get it. You thought newspaper.’

‘Yes, I do, and true.’

‘Did you care, because I got tired of bragging to hos, 50 Cent.’

‘You do, Loraine, they want to hear something, but something is all they want to hear, are they too jealous, Loraine, of your big life?’

‘Loraine’s clients say nothing at all, so she doesn’t know. She doesn’t even ask their name, 50 Cent--’

‘She’s funny, because she forgets anyway, and then she looks rude too.’

‘He’s right, it’s better to pretend you don’t care, than to pretend you care, and then forget, like your client, your old regular, [ ], he hated you forgetting his name all the time, better to pretend, opposite, that you don’t care when you do. Seriously. And I’m God.’

‘He said, “The girls in New York don’t get the money up front.”‘ Can you give me a good reason why the man should take the risk over the girl?’

‘Not really, Loraine, they’re afraid you’ll walk, and you’re afraid they’ll walk, and that’s what it is, so you change it up, and you check if you’re unsure, but you didn’t check with that guy, because you wanted his dick.’

‘No, come on. I rarely check and he was too cool to bug about money, don’t you think, I check more for full service.’

‘When they only want a blow job, you think they’ve thought about the money more?’

‘Yeah, don’t you?’

‘It’s for safety though.’

‘Yeah, true.’

‘She always ends up agreeing with me.’

‘Well, what did you do?’

‘It’s different with a pimp, they really aren’t going anywhere, and I can take the money, or you can, or are you afraid I will think you’re not declaring tips, what am I saying, you’re not even going out, you have everything you need at the house, and whatever you need, milk, she wants, we’ll get it for you.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You don’t care about your freedom?’

‘I have no freedom now, to speak of.’

‘To screw, to chat, even, in case it leads to a screw, right? You fucken freak. Why is she so easy? Why does she have to stay home?’

‘She likes staying home, and she doesn’t like the pressure, the first guy who talked to her in that bar, Amigo’s, she likes it there, but, he asked her if she wanted to go home with someone, the first phrase out of his mouth, 50 Cent, the first phrase, before hello, even, and, to his credit, I am God, just listen, he let his friend, much better looking, and smelling, take a run at her too.’

‘Sloppy seconds.’

‘Along those lines, Fifty, you know the drill.’

‘Why didn’t she go home with [ ]? He liked her.’

‘No, he didn’t, and she knew it, rest assured. This girl knows a lot, as Game says, without being told, and she knew he was not interested in her at all, at all, at all, at all. Not at all.’

‘Why? When she’s so popular?’

‘Those other girls weren’t much prettier, big and weird, but young, and he liked them better. He wanted to get laid alright, but he’s picky, and he dumps them anyway.’

‘She was smart, I’ll give her that, cross your legs and wait for marriage.’

‘That wasn’t exactly it, 50 Cent, she has high self esteem, and, as you are fond of saying, an ugly face, so she didn’t chase guys much.’

‘She sure chased me.’

‘She didn’t have to chase you long.’

‘I know, fuck, I was a sucker for her ugly, beat up, dumb, idiot, face, I was, I don’t, even, realize why. I don’t. She was dumb. Her blog was dumb, I looked at it, it was good, but I hated it, and her pictures were dumb, all selfies I could tell, and even Eminem weighed in, saying, “She’s alone, I’ll bet you anything. I’ve never seen anything like it either, 50 Cent, but you just did. She’s a solo artist, guaranteed.“‘

‘Whew, wow.’

‘How did you know?’

‘She didn’t even have a friend to take a picture, those, and that was it, she put the cord in front of all of the good ones, and you couldn’t get a square to take it out? On purpose, God.’

‘No, thankfully, but it was a sad day, because those pics were beautiful, [ ]’s a good photographer.’

‘Not too good.’

‘Old technology.’

‘K. Enough. Go to bed or something, you idiot.’

‘Why is he so mad, do you think, Loraine?’

‘I thought he was supposed to tell us, or he did tell us, or something. I’m getting tired and starting to dread the day, God.’

‘Relax, Loraine, they’re getting used to giving you time to get ready because you are always sleeping, so worry not. You should get something tomorrow, and you don’t feel like running ads, so beer.’

‘I hope for something, God, but I can live without beer, it��s food I’m worried about.’

‘You have lots of chicken and you’re totally uninspired anyway.’

‘This is why I'm mad, why do I get all jealous and she doesn’t get jealous?’

‘She does, Fifty,’ explains God. ‘She just--’

‘Self actualized, and I didn’t with my fifteen thousand women.’

‘Why do you like his poly?’ asks Neil. ‘You were going to say. Do you think about stealing his pussies?’

‘Not really.’

‘Are you bored, yourself with women?’

‘Kind of.’

‘Do you really want Victoria or are you being nice?’

‘No, I do.’

‘But you say it with doubt.’

‘I got burned out on women, for sure.’

‘Really? Already? With nine?’

‘They‘re too neurotic for her, Neil, and no, it’s not because she’s neurotic, being a prostitute kept her “soft and open,” and she didn’t begrudge women their men, but she wanted a little, precious little, quality time, maybe once a month would have done her.’

‘Why was she chasing [ ] around then?’

‘She never did that. She moves on so fast it would make your head spin.’

‘Will she move on on me?’ asks Neil.

‘Not if you’re committed, she won’t.’

‘So I’m tied down, I can’t leave her.’

‘No. She doesn’t want anyone to leave her after this outrageous outpouring of effort, Neil, both through writing and what will manifest sexually.’

‘She’s a feminist.’

‘Even feminists didn’t know to ask for something.’

‘What, dick?’

‘I think we’ve given them too much, Loraine, maybe we should wind down, what do you think?‘

‘They did get grumpy, that’s true, and it does feel a little like throwing good money after bad right now. Can I fix it?’

‘Let’s see. Why is Neil mad, Neil?’

‘I get her dumb sister in law, what do I want that for, I wasn’t exaggerating, what bugs me is she is never jealous.’

‘With eighteen husbands, she clearly has to share, Neil. how bad would it be if every time she had to share, she went ballistic with jealousy?’ says God. ‘I have chosen this woman for you for her potential as a polygamous wife, and that’s why, and that is exclusively and precisely why she is good at it, because it’s her orientation, and that is what she is, and that is what she does.’

‘Why can’t we use different porn workers or whores or something?’ asks Neil.

‘You can, I thought you prayed, they all prayed, Loraine, I know you think it’s gay, but we all have needs, and they prayed for a nice woman for a family, even while they were pretending to be all confused about 50 Cent’s house. Truly. All of them. Nelly was particularly eloquent--’

‘Oh, don’t.’

‘--I will, I am God, in saying that he wanted an ugly, little, gang bang girl to come on, please, God, just in the course of their day, Loraine, not on their knees at night, even Loraine didn’t think to pray for a family, and all of you did, all of you did, even if 50 Cent started it, and he sort of did, Loraine, but they had all been thinking how nice it would be if they could get some friends together and come on a nice girl, instead of running pillar to post to get laid all the time, and trying to cobble together some decent scenes for their fantasy life.

‘Loraine didn’t have the luxury of cobbling together any scenes, 50 Cent, which is why she didn’t even bother, she was so disgusted by her treatment at the gang bang, in fact, that she decided never to have one again, many of those women said, that Fifty, while going right on doing it, why do you think they smelled, one badly timed call to the taxi and Loraine was out of gang bangs for life.

‘She never did that, 50 Cent, she has a way--’

‘A way, she always has a way--’

‘She has a way of creating a terrible conundrum in her writing so that nobody could see a way to get a gang bang without actually writing the letter, and, to do so, they would have had to talk to some friends, and discuss the possible outcomes, and, though some were out to each other, most were not, and the best they could conjure up was a sort of line up, but they really wanted to expose her to male bisexuality, that was what was holding them back, 50 Cent, honestly, and they weren’t writers, but only construction workers, and Loraine has seen the results of that in Buzz’s website, former website, and they couldn’t do it, they couldn’t do it, they couldn’t do it, they couldn’t do it. some were out, I told you, and one of the groups even called, but they were too scared to come out and too afraid of what she may see, just having sex with men without women, is what they were up to, 50 Cent.’

‘Loraine hates that, she hates to be left out.’

‘I hate it too, Loraine, I’m good for it, I am,’ says Victoria. ‘I’m not a fag hag at all, I need men who are promiscuous, mostly, with women, I do. My husband has fifty to catch up on but it won’t take long.’

‘A hundred,’ he says. ‘And I’m going to do it. When I get these husbands.’

‘Why wait?’ says Brian. ‘They are always bugging me.’

‘I’m trying, I’m busy.’

‘Aren’t we all. Go to a whore, they say to me, it’s easy, it takes ten minutes or twenty minutes for a hundred and fifty or two hundred dollars of my family’s money.’

‘Funny, Brian, go to cheaper whores, they’ll love you, Loraine loves it when she gets a cutie.’

‘Maybe I’ll go to her then, pimping my wife.’

‘We’ll get some whores in--see, why does she smile? It annoys me. When is this bitch gonna come out in a rage? When? I want, to, know. NOW,’ says 50 Cent.

‘She may never, as you may never, 50 Cent, because she is cool, but she will get mad, but clearly you will have to get a whore for Brian if Maryse--’

‘Thanks, Loraine!’

Loraine smiles.

‘She’s exhausted,’ says 50 Cent. ‘Constant writing for hours is exhausting, she’s tired, my baby, and she smells of speed too, gross. I’m feeding her a lot of crack and cocaine, and you will start, right away, to lose weight, Loraine, you will, and you will have a bit of a flabby tummy--’

‘Not bad,’ says God. ‘She kept in shape and the skin is sort of taut still.’

‘Great, sort of taut, my little, fat, did you, Nelly?’

‘I thought I was ugly and a fag, but I think she’s okay, I do, in that picture, in the others, she’s okay, too, I never thought I’d get better, though Nas tried a lot, with pretty girls, who wanted to get licked for hours and hours, which he sometimes does with a panty for five minutes, Loraine, and they, the gall, they have the gall to complain about it. Do you believe? Three hundred dollars? She would never, never, never, complain, as a hooker, even a wife, even if she has to be ugly to do it. Who cares? I do care. I think she’s kinda sweet looking, in a housebound kind of way, like a young, old, housewife, like that movie, Loraine, that--’

‘Bridges of Madison County.’

‘Oh, she knows it, that was an affair, and we don’t condone that, just so’s you’re aware, but it was understood, in the context of her cold husband, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘But we’re not cold, so don’t do that, and we won’t buy you a little, itty bitty, studio and throw you out, because we don’t cheat, we report, and don’t forget anything.’

‘I’m not giving her a chance to forget, she’s on camera all day around staff, the whorey slut, who God keeps slipping into conversations that she’s a whorey slut, so she must be one, God knows, and only God could know with this bitch.’

‘So, Loraine, they are right again, so you can quit if you want to, you can still talk and it’s easier. And that’s it.’

‘Okay, God, thank you.’

‘You're welcome, Loraine. Go ahead and thank Patrick Crean in heaven for the nice speed and the nice beer today, wasn’t that a nice day, when you expected to do laundry and dishes, and did nothing instead, nothing, well done, Loraine.’

‘Thank you, Pat!’

‘You’re welcome, Loraine.’

‘K.’

‘Night, bitch,’ says 50 Cent. ‘Stealing my friends.’

[thepeakmoment]

More Returns

Here's a superb podcast on Peaks. May 30 is the most recent episode. A great listen. Counter Esperanto Podcast: Tangents About Twin Peaks: 10th Secret: The Return

On Tue, Jun 13, 2017 at 1:53 PM, Dom wrote: I'll check it out tonight.

So my Diane prediction was on the fucking money.

I got another theory I'm working on.

Who's the mysterious billionaire? I heard some people say it may be Audrey Horne. I heard some people say it is Jack (John Justice Wheeler). I heard some people say it is Phillip Jeffries or Evil Cooper.

Put on your tinfoil hat for this one. The Billionaire is Leo Johnson. He lived through his spider ordeal. Then he took everything that Windom left behind (notes, computer files, other assorted Windom things) and built a criminal empire. I find it very hard to believe that the fucking casting director's son who was in the 1st two seasons and the fucking movie is NOT in this one.

The secret history of twin peaks tells us what happens to a bunch of characters like Leo. For instance Hank dies in prison. But not one word in the book about Leo? I got to believe that he lives and he’s not just a slobbering fool any more. I know this is probably not going to happen. But that's my theory.

I cannot imagine Leo is a rich billionaire — how did he make his money? A theory that makes sense I’ve heard on EW TP podcast that it could be BOB-Cooper attempting to catch Good Cooper if he ever left the Lodge. But really, I have no idea… not as of end of P7.

I like how Lynch-Frost are using all official Twin Peaks releases as canon to draw the narrative from — Laura’s Diary, FWWM, Missing Pieces of blu-ray edition, as well as many classic episode threads.

And like Erik, I KNOW, that Sheriff Harry S. Truman will make an appearance in this season. I feel it in my bones.

It’s looking grim for Harry — or rather, it sounds grim from Frank saying to Harry, “beat this thing.” But actually I can see Ontkean coming out of retirement to have a role toward the end of the series. I also (want to) believe Josie returning … maybe she’s the billionaire, but why would she make such a contraption mounted to the side of building?

On Sun, Jun 25, 2017 at 2:26 AM, Erik wrote: Good Morning Gents. Grab a cup a joe and settle down a minute. I got some backed up information for yous … << Starts Tape Recorder…. >>

Spot on is right Mr Domi. You got that Diane was Laura Dern AND that she drinks at the Pub we went to. I even want to say she is seated in the area of the bar that we were sitting at that night.  Glad it wasn't raining when we went, "FUCK Gene Kelly, You mother fucker!!" LOL I love Albert, he is my favorite this season. (Location: Max Von's Bar = Casey's Irish Pub, 619 South Grand, LA)

So Episode 7 should have shut up all those whiner's and complainer's of Ep 6. There was a lot of hate on the internet, and even in our FB Group, about that episode. I was ok with it. I did not like the scene with the kid getting hit by the truck, but the scene ended with the Fat Trout Telephone pole, so I'm ok with it.

"Lynch has gotten flak for the male gaze in his work, but the problems go a lot deeper than lingering shots on female anatomy.…” Laura Hudson in Vulture.

Also in EP 6 we finally got two major new pieces of music from Angelo, not his best work, but still great to hear.  The overall lack of his music is my biggest complaint this season in case I didn't make that clear.

When Johnny Jewel's Windswept first appeared, I thought that was Badalamenti  finally debuting new music. I was definitely disappointed it was not Angelo, no disrespect to Johnny. But I agree with you Erik about no AB original score. That music is what made classic Peaks so memorable. I don’t get why Lynch is using such popular music. There really wan’t any such tracks in FWWM, it was Angelo’s music and further cemented Peaks as evergreen. Lynch is acting like Scorcese in the epic cinematic story… and he doesn’t need to. Marty did not have a Badalamenti in his arsenal. Lynch does. Please use him.

EP 7...There's a body alright.. is definitely the shit. Now we are cooking. Jerry!!!! Come out of it man... Lets get Ben and Jerry back in action, not disfunction. The diary pages, Annie's message from FWWM, Leland hiding pages, DIANE from hell! ... Bringing it all back home.

There’s a dark undercurrent with Diane and Cooper. All signs are indicating something very bad happened to Diane. I think BOB-Cooper raped her.

I wonder where Frank Truman was at the time of Laura's murder? He says he remembers Leland, her father, did it, but is not really familiar with the case. BUT why the heck is Frank not asking "So what is "the Lodge" you keep talking about?” Hawk?

The way Hawk talks so knowledgable about both Lodges and the way Frank does not question or disbelieve him, then it must be common knowledge among the indigenous culture. Wonder if Frank is a Bookhouse Boy?

Ancient Doc Hayward, kinda sad, but he was still funny. Did you catch his Skype name?  MiddleburyDoc... Warren Frost was actually living in VT right? They probably actually did just Skype him and screen capture it…lol

I caught that right away about Warren Frost’s Skype handle. And no doubt, Frost stayed in Vermont to do his scene. That just recorded the screen.… I do miss Briggs. Yet he died long before Lynch-Frost’s three-year tenure writing the new story, they had plenty of time to work the presence of him into the story.

Briggsy.. Oh Major Briggs. how we miss thee. Should be interesting how this plays out. And When the hell are we going to go back to I bet the road where Andy is waiting to meet the Truck owner is up there at Frankln Canyon Pond.

The Dog Leg.... WTF?  Is Joe McCluskey the guy that rigged the car and Mr C Killed earlier on? I do think the Psycho Little guy with the Ice Pick and Gun is kinda silly. Over the top for no reason.  Oh well.… It's kinda silly also that no one has taken Dougie to the Doctor. Everyone just plays along. we have to suspend disbelief I guess.

OMG enough with the guy sweeping at the Roadhosue. Is this all the extra time he told Shotime he needed more money for to tell the story properly?  lol and more music used in hundreds of shows and commercials. I love Booker T and the MGs don't get me wrong, but ... UGH I miss you Angelo... Also... Kinda weird to see Jean Michel... Did Jacque Renault have a twin brother? lol Mr. C and Ray getting out of Prison.. Bad stuff gonna happen. I think they might have used San Bernadino County Jail for this locaton. The Cell block Cooper is located on looks familar.  I will compare some screen grabs from my Locaton and Publicity Photos we took for Beyond Scared Straight at that jail.

And beause they needed to pad the ending to get to the alloted running time... Back to the RR Diner for the end scene, and yet another over-used stock song they probably had to pay more to use than what they paid Angelo for everything. Plus, I liked that song better when they used it in the X-files episode “Home" but No, I'm not bitter.

General notes: Glad Naomi Watts has such a big part. She really owns her scenes. Wish Jennifer Jason Leigh was more present but Mr C just left Jail for somewhere... It's slightly brilliant how Lynch (but probably Frost came up with it) still has made Harry a character in the show. even if only on the phone and never even heard. I feel like Harry is there kinda. Also brilliant... Robert Forrester.... wow. Wish he was in the original or the movie. Not sure how I feel with Dern as Diane. I'll go with it and see what happens.

Outstanding questions for me....(cause I haven't been reading blogs or listening to podcasts)

What is up with all the Arthurian Legend references? Dougie lives on Lancalot Court, down the street from the Merlin Market. Janey-E meets for the ransom drop on the corner of Gueneivere and Merlin. And of course, Glastonbury Grove... Pete Martel: "King Arthur's burried in England!"

Why is it when Dougie puts his thumb up or his hand out to shake, he turns his body 180 degrees?

What is up with the creepy guy (from Mulholland Diner scene) in the Vegas Office? I can't seem to catch his meaning in the story line.

What is up with Cooper's Room Key from the Great Northern? If has finally made it back to Ben Horne...Soooo?

One last question... Did Lynch quit smoking?  He made two references to people (Gordon Cole even) quitting. Did we ever even see Cole smoke in the series or movie? weird for him to say he quit when the character never smoked on camera. "You think about that Tammy."

On Jun 25, 2017, at 4:29 PM, Dom wrote: I think Frank Truman was a police officer in Seattle during Laura's investigation if I remember the book correctly. But I think that a "Sheriff Truman" has been in power for over 60 consecutive years now between the 2 brothers and their father. It sort of like there must always be a Stark in Winterfell.

To my knowledge that was the first time ever we have heard name Joe McCluskey. I have no clue who that is. But I have a feeling we will learn.

Yea, I don’t recollect Joe McCluskey. Gotta watch again to see if he first appears or is mentioned earlier.

I think Ike the Spike is either from the black lodge or an agent of the black lodge. Remember he smelled "funny" per the little girl.

Spike did look a little monstery, his teeth especially.

I actually loved that scene of the sweeping. I could just imagine everyone watching was freaking out and I enjoyed that. And I thought that Walter did some great acting while on the phone as Jean-Michel. "He owes me for two!"

That ending scene from the RR diner was weird as shit. Its either the worst continuity error of all time or something truly weird happened there. Completely different set of people dining there after David Lynch's son runs in and asks if anyone has seen Billy.

Lynch did not quit smoking. He, like Harry Dean are lifers.

Both Laura Dern and Naomi Watts are killing their roles. Both doing a fantastic job. I just cannot wait to see them come face to face over Dougie.

And MacLachlan! All his Cooper iterations are really well done. I love that BOB-Cooper character. Can’t wait to see what trouble he kicks up now!

My new tin foil theory is that we may be dealing with 2 Twin Peaks. Twins of each other if you will. I'm still working this one out. Different versions of the same town in different universes a part of a greater multiverse?

Did you notice Andy was wearing a rolex? Kind of weird.

…And he was supposed to meet the guy at 4:30. Is that one of the numbers from ????? ?

The guy from the Vegas office is working directly for Phillip Jeffries or whoever is pretending to be him IMO.

Don’t overlook the black soot guy walking in the hallway toward the female FBI agent in the morgue. I think it’s related to the guy next to Bill Hastings cell.…

Lots of Arthurian Legend stuff from way back when. I never got that. But its seems to be very important. I would love to go to Merlin's Market.

During the end credits from the last episode buried in the music is Windham Earle's theme mixed into the background too!!!!!

I might try headphones for tonight’s part to see exactly what sounds I miss. I know there’s a lot of low audible noise and rumbling that I don’t hear when our apartment is 86º and the fan is going.…

On Jun 25, 2017, at 8:10 PM, Dom wrote: Some last minute thoughts...

Yeah I agree about MacLachlan is killing it and should win an Emmy for best actor. Black soot guy is awesome and its the same dude for sure from the jail cell. Some people seem to think we have seen him a third time as a homeless man outside of Vegas at the Rachera Rosa is whatever it is called. I don't think that we did. I will need to re-watch that again. Another tin foil hat theory. On those three pages from Laura's diary she refers to knowing who it is and that its not Bob. At least everyone thinks she is referencing Leland. That is probably most right. However I am thinking that she is referring to an evil more powerful and sadistic than even Bob.Like whatever came out of the glass box and mutilated those younglings.

On Jun 25, 2017, at 8:17 PM, Erik wrote: > "Yea, I don’t recollect Joe McCluskey."

I am thinking if the guy in the diner eating food non-stop the whole scene with Ray and the chick Mr C shot in the head.  Just before he kills her, he tells her "i killed joe, and the she freaks out, knowing the gig is up.   The previous scene the eating guy "joe" does something to a car in storage and then cooper like squeezes his face for a whole minute.   Could be McCluskey?

> "Lynch did not quit smoking."

Well, its mighty fine of him to send a non smoking message to all the youths. Considering Cole does not smoke, it is a conscious message.

> "All his Cooper iterations are really well done."

Yes, Kyle will def get an Emmy nomination. Dern and Watts will also I predict.  

> “RR diner was weird as shit. Its either the worst continuity error of all time or something truly weird happened there.”

There are no accidents on a Lynch set. If an error occurs and he likes it he will use it. So who knows why he did it. On the same level as the windows  flashing code on the FBI jet.  He is throwing out decoys i feel.  

> “then it (the Lodge) must be common knowledge among the indigenous culture.”

Then why the heck is Truman not like "well lets go up there" nor does Hawk tell him he was up in those woods when Log Lady last called.

> “Don’t overlook the black soot guy walking in the hallway”

Nope, I did not mention him cause i consider it another decoy.  Kinda like the shambling being behind the diner in Mulholland Drive...never came up again. i am sure he will play a part at some point.  

But i did forget to mention the playing card Mr. C  showed the girl in the hotel bed before he shoots her.  Aliens? Very well could be.

Have a good viewing. The damn internet saying EP 8 is extra noteworthy. Could it be Phillip Jeffries? Windom Earl?  More Leland and Laura? (I actually doubt we will see either of them again).  Audrey? Big Ed? They got plenty of options.

Cheers! ~G

Sent from the Black Lodge.