#Spectrum Miami

[mediumtires]

christian horner comparing max’s newborn daughter to a race horse and toto openly laughing at him may or may not be my favourite moment of this whole thing.

[aaivii]

A certain British twink got P2 from P12 last year, if he can do it you're made from much hotter stuff baby!!

[imzsuzsis-blog]

"I fucked this!!!" I rocked back and forth in one of the chairs in the box restlessly and chewed on one of the pens that happened to be in my hand. "Lando, don't worry, I was wrong, like you, maybe I'll be accused of a crime because I did something stupid." "It's not true, I led the time trial all the way and screwed it all up at the second to last moment." "It's not your fault. Everyone there in Q3 was let out at the last moment, it really shouldn't have been a bad decision, I think." Again, I didn't have eye contact, this time with Oscar it didn't work, in front of him I didn't get angry with Zak because he said it's good where I'm starting from. Well, the ninth place is good, I'm going to fuck the whole thing, I can start like shit from there, I know that it doesn't work for me and it never did and it never will.

"Hey, hey! Dude look here! I say no problem, no one made a mistake, neither you nor I." I've only known for a week that he has ASD and that it's a little bit difficult for him, he has an ASD autism spectrum disorder, but he's a cute, nice guy who deserves happiness just like us here in the paddock. ,,No no no!!!!!!" He continues to sway next to me, I looked into his eyes but I didn't see them, they disappeared, as if a fog had covered everything. "Calm is a deep breath, think about tomorrow's yoga and what a great program it will be." ,,No no no!!!!!" He kept repeating this and his voice became more and more bitter, almost crying and even crying out for the end of this crappy day.

I watched them. I wanted to help right away, but I didn't because the press came first and then my humanity. "Screw it, it's not going out," Lando cries. Would someone speak for me?” "No, Logan, you have to believe, why did you beat the timer again and why did you come last?! Only now on home turf, man.” "I will not make my competitor more important than them." "Mandatory." "I'll put it down." I walked past them and crouched down in front of Lando, he was crying a lot. ,,what's wrong?" "I finished ninth and according to Zak, it's good."

,,Lando, my dear Lando? I saw the whole thing, it's okay, another training session tomorrow, but then it's time for the big race, isn't that better?" ,.No no no!!!!!!!!!!" He started writhing hysterically and made a fist out of his palm, sat down on the ground and started rocking forwards and backwards while hitting the ground with his fists. ,,No no no!!!!!!" He repeated this all the time, I didn't understand why and what's wrong with him being in the top 10. If I were him, I would announce this to everyone at the top of my lungs. "Lando, honey, what do you mean no?" ,,No no no!!!!!!" "Lando, please..." I stroked his badger hair, but he turned away from me, but this constant didn't stick with him, I didn't understand why and what was wrong, but I knew it would be solved somehow. "A kiss of sorrow?" He shook his head, he didn't even ask, he started sobbing and his swaying got stronger, I knew something was wrong, but I couldn't really tell anyone, things were bad, but I think they'll settle down by tomorrow.

[plus-low-overthrow]

John Tropea - Livin' in the Jungle (TK Productions)

1979.

Sample, Blackalicious - One Of A Kind (Quannum)

[retrocgads]

UK 1987

[twilightmomentswithyou]

can't tell you what i had for dinner last night, but i CAN tell you the 2005-2006 miami heat roster

WHY AM I LIKE THIS

[dear-ao3]

the miami gp, summarized:

-max verstappens girlfriend kelly gave birth. not in miami. max got to miss media day. this was probably the highlight of his weekend right behind his child getting born.

-vcarb showed up with the sexiest pinkest car imaginable. alpine, the self proclaimed pink team even though their car is half blue, took this as a personal offense. vcarb found this funny and made memes about it.

-mercedes did not have a pink car but they had cool ass hawaiian looking pink floral suits.

-ferrari did not receive the sexy memo and made a car that looked like a red white and blue popsicle. this was only an omen of what was to come.

-esteban ocon showed up with mick schumacher as his plus one. mick might have been there for a cadillac event cause he might be on the short list of drivers to get to drive for them next year. there were several photos where it looked like he and esteban were holding hands.

-kimi antonelli broke the record for youngest pole sitter in any f1 format. he then got stuck in his helmet while people were congratulating him. he and valtteri had an agreement that if he podiumed in the main race valtteri would drink his champagne for him

-charles leclerc managed to crash his car on the way to the grid for the sprint. this means he now has a DSQ and a DNS before getting a DNF for the season. this was again, an omen.

-sprint race was suspended due to rain. no one though could figure out if the race had started or if they were just doing extra formation laps though and crofty and ted debated this for a solid ten minutes.

-kimi antonelli instantly lost his p1 and ends up getting knocked out of the points because red bull unsafely released max verstappen Directly Into Him in the pitlane. then in a wild turn of events half of the people who ended up in the points got penalties after the race and got knocked out of the points so kimi Did end up with points

-this did though mean that alex albon lost his p4. which might have been the worst part of the race.

-lewis hamilton managed to salvage the remains of ferrari and pull out a p3. this was insanely due to a good tire call. this was also where ferrari used all of their good luck for the weekend.

-lando managed to win the sprint race after a safety car played into his favor, because oscar had previously been leading the race. oscar loudly announced later that he would not be buying any lottery tickets in miami because this was the second year in a row that a well timed safety car led to lando winning the race

-during the grand prix qualifying max verstappen got called daddy by the announcers live on air. no one stopped to question this. he also pulled out the qualifying lap of his life and managed to take pole. this was what actually led to him being called daddy.

-kimi antonelli took oscars p3 a good 12 seconds after the checkered flag during qualifying. oscar took this personally.

-before the main race george did a scooter trick and nearly whacked himself in the ankles

-the drivers also raced full size lego cars for the drivers parade. it was a disaster.

-immediately off the line kimi got overtaken again. and jack doohan got a puncture. ollie lost all power in his car. gabriel bortoletos engine died. liam lawson dnf'd due to damage. isack hadjar was the only rookie with a slightly unremarkable race, though he did miss on points by a tenth and a half. kimi antonelli might have absorbed the rest of the rookie's energy.

-oscar managed to take the lead. and hold onto it. and lando managed to chase him. he chased him so hard that both mclarens ended up more than thirty seconds ahead of the rest of the pack. the last time there was a mclaren race this dominant was in monaco 2007 with fernando and lewis

-and on absolutely the opposite end of the spectrum was none other than ferrari. who crashed out so badly that they were nearly getting passed by williams. lewis got so pissed he told his engineers to take a tea break. they swapped positions twice. one of the times they forgot to tell lewis they were swapping positions. neither driver was pleased about it. lewis asked if he was meant to let carlos past him too.

-and nico rosberg aparently was in miami to bear witness to this.

-oscar ignored both his girlfriend and zak brown for several minutes in favor of yapping with lando after getting out of the car. he also did the griddy (?) for some reason. very badly.

-the interviews were done in chairs under fake palm trees in the back of a truck driving on the race track. they were a disaster and also hosted by jenson button who was wearing a very confusing white Hawaiian almost mesh shirt. jenson also had to face the horrors (danica patrick)

-on the podium everyone boo'd the fia president when he gave oscar his medal

-oscar ended up winning the race. lando second george third.

-oscar now has 6 career wins. three in a row (first mcl driver since mika hakkinen in 97-98 to do so). four this season. theres only been six races this season. hes leading the drivers championship.

-oscar now has more career wins than his teammate lando who has about 4 more years experience and also won his first race in miami last year. lando who was the favorite for the championship this year. lando who is succumbing slowly but surely to the driver who wins the first race of the season doesnt win the championship curse.

-red bull tried to strip george of his p3 for not lifting under yellow flags. they were unsuccessful and also lost money doing this. george also announced in a post race interview that he had a baby in his stomach.

[the-catch-center]

SPATIOTEMPORAL CATCH CENTER INTERNAL DOSSIER FILE ID: SCC/INT-REDIRECT/038-577-HARDLOCK-RECALC ACCESS LEVEL: RESTRICTED – LEVEL GAMMA-9 AUTHORIZED HANDLER: TECH-OFFICER INGRID MALM, CONTAINMENT/REINTEGRATION DIVISION SUBJECT STATUS: FULL NEURAL REALIGNMENT IN FINAL PHASE WARP OFFENSE CLASS: VOLITIONAL TEMPORAL IDENTITY SUBVERSION REDIRECT TYPE: HARDLOCK / CULTURAL INVERSION / LOCUS REALLOC

I. SUBJECT ORIGIN PROFILE

ORIGINAL TEMPORAL NAME: Chase Ryland Mercer DOB: July 14, 1993 Birthplace: Denver, Colorado, United States Registered Occupation (2025): Fitness coach, lifestyle influencer, and freelance body aesthetics consultant Known Affinities: Narcissistic identity experimentation, time-loop evasion via biohacking, performance-enhancement narcotics (non-lethal), subcultural integration simulations Catch Center Notes: Subject presented minimal direct temporal risk but extreme destabilization via affective radiation and future-kink aesthetic bleed into mid-tier historical planes. Psych profile indexed a 9.7/10 on the Volitional Timeline Deviance Spectrum — one of the highest this fiscal cycle. Absolutely no sense of restraint or humility. Treated his identity like a goddamn buffet.

II. TARGET TRANSFORMATION TRAJECTORY (INTERCEPTED)

INTENDED IDENTITY (2003 POST-LANDING): Name: Thiago “Tigre” Delgado Projected Identity Arc:

Birthplace Claim: Hialeah, FL (fabricated)

Self-image: “Latin gay icon in the making” — short (5'5"), densely muscled, full-body tattoos (tribal + lowbrow queer iconography), pierced nipples with kinetic rings, surgically enhanced glutes, double-leg implants for enhanced bounce-resilience.

Occupation Goal: Professional gogo dancer / queer nightlife symbol

Nightclub Affiliations: The Vault, Orbit, El Palacio Rojo

Style: Shirtless with suspenders, mesh thongs, patent leather boots; constant chewing of neon gum; four rotating euphoric expression programs (joy, cockiness, defiance, sweatlust).

Behavioral Profile: Hypersexual body-positive provocateur, deliberately transgressive, intensely performative masculinity-as-artifice.

Neurological Tweaks: Neuroplastic conditioning toward unrelenting confidence, delayed shame response, and chemically stabilized erotic charisma.

Projected Impact: High-density affective ripple in Miami’s 2003 queer scene with ripple effects into early influencer psychology, erotic commodification economies, and third-wave queer liberation dynamics. Comment from Handler Malm:

“Oh, Thiago. Tigre. Whatever. He really thought the multiverse needed another sweaty himbo grinding on a speaker. The man was halfway to becoming a synthetic fetish idol for future anthropology textbooks. The sheer vanity. We had no choice. This was not a deviant with flair — this was a firework in a fireworks store.”

III. INTERCEPTION REPORT – REASSIGNMENT INITIATED

CATCH EVENT: May 18, 2025 Location: Lisbon Warp Corridor, Tier-2 Jump Stagger (unauthorized, amateur shield) Containment Class: STORMLOCK (Emergency Full Override – Cultural Reintegration) Time Misalignment Window: 2.44 seconds (longer than average, subject suffered visible neural stuttering)

IV. REDIRECTED IDENTITY PROFILE – FINALIZED REASSIGNMENT

NEW LEGAL IDENTITY: Name: Gerald Wayne Huxley DOB: March 19, 1938 Birthplace: Waco, Texas Current Year Placement: 1982 Occupation: Senior Enlistment Officer, United States Marine Corps (Ret.) – Lubbock Military Recruitment Center

V. PHYSICAL RECONSTRUCTION – FINALIZED PARAMETERS

Height: 6’5” Weight: 276 lbs Body Composition:

Upper body mass exaggerated to near cartoonish bulk, consistent with Cold War recruitment propaganda aesthetic.

Forearms vascular, heavily tanned, and riddled with deep scarring (simulation implants for combat credibility).

Waistline high, torso thick with almost immobile girth.

Feet: Size 28EE – biometric flag for timeline recapture trace. Intentionally disproportionate.

Hair:

Color: Faded iron gray

Cut: Exact regulation flat top — high-precision, bristly, square. No fade, no softness. Facial Features:

Square jaw recalibrated with reinforced temporal mass to suggest hardened aging.

Nose slightly misaligned (simulated boxing injury).

Mustache: Oversized, thick, dark bristles — exaggerated variant of “Tom Selleck Regulation 8,” protruding nearly 2.5cm beyond lip edge. Skin:

Textured, sun-damaged, mid-oil saturation level.

All tattoos (real and desired) erased.

Scar tissue simulated on clavicle and left thigh.

Wardrobe (Perpetual Issue):

Olive green slacks (1982 standard military recruiter issue)

Brown oxfords, scuffed at toe

Khaki button-up with two front creased pockets

Brown leather belt with brass buckle Note: Uniforms reissued weekly. No variation permitted.

Handler Malm Commentary:

“He went from mesh crop tops and chest oil to starch and brass in one warp-snap. Beautiful. He twitched for 19 seconds trying to say ‘vamos’ through a jaw that now only knows how to bark ‘Oorah.’”

VI. PSYCHOGENETIC REALIGNMENT

Override Protocol: A7-A6 “PATRIOT CORE + MEMORY FLUSH”

Emotional Expression Index: Reduced to 1.8 (gruff approval, disapproval, silent nod)

Deviance Tolerance: 0.00

Neural Aversion Implants: Triggered by visual/audio contact with queer subcultures

Memory Replacement:

Vietnam veteran (fictionalized unit, real deployment logs)

Divorcee (3x)

Current hobbies include grilling, lecturing teens, hating hippies

Belief Reprogramming: Fully loyal to Reagan administration, believes in draft reinstatement, thinks disco “destroyed the American man.”

Residual Symptoms:

Minor lip spasms when attempting to recall “Thia—”

Left hip occasionally executes pre-conditioned “grind” motion in sleep (projected to phase out in 14 days)

Vague nostalgia toward low-saturation lighting and rhythmic basslines (marked irrelevant by override)

Handler Malm Commentary:

“He thinks Studio 54 was a socialist training camp now. I love my job.”

VII. TIMELINE OUTCOME

PROJECTED LIFE TRAJECTORY:

1982–1994: Works at regional recruitment center, trains new hires

1995–2000: Retires, becomes semi-local figure in Lubbock VFW

2001: Minor stroke, mobility decline

Death: February 19, 2002, 11:24 a.m., Amarillo VA Hospital — confirmed stroke, no anomalous triggers, timeline preserved

Post-Death Integrity: Subject marked as “Historically Plausible and Emotionally Nullified”

Handler Malm Final Notes:

“We’ve taken a man who wanted to shake his surgically plumped ass to reggaeton under strobe lights and turned him into a one-man recruitment pamphlet. He’s exactly where he belongs: forgotten, rigid, and 100% unsexy. A victory for the timeline. And frankly? A little cathartic.”

END OF DOSSIER FILE LOCKED DO NOT DISTRIBUTE WITHOUT CLASS-GAMMA OVERRIDE

[aba-daba-dooo]

Is Psych Copaganda? a long, rambling essay by me (a media and fandom scholar)

TLDR: Sometimes. Copaganda is ubiquitous with entertainment media, but Psych does have moments of self-awareness and benefits from being extremely fictional. I think its your call as an individual to decide where it lands on the propaganda spectrum.

To call something propaganda is messy by default. There’s a lot to consider when it comes to intent: is this being done with the purpose of persuading an audience, promoting a particular viewpoint, or influencing public opinion. These definitions most often apply to the news media and what information is presented to the public, but it does also come in the form of entertainment media. Look at anti-communist cartoons produced in the 1940s, or at Marvel comics being designed to get people to buy war bonds or sign up for the military. It’s intentional. That's what makes it propaganda and not just misinformation. Already, we're in a weird spot for procedural television shows.

It’s no secret that procedural television comes from a long line of copaganda. It goes back to Dragnet (1951-1959). It was specifically made in response to prior media depicting the police as foolish and unhelpful (think Sherlock Holmes), and the public working with the police less and less because of that. So Dragnet (which was a Disney product by the way) was created to show a competent officer to help get white folks to work with the police again. That is copaganda in its purest form. 

Of course, people found the show entertaining. So what happened? Other studios began producing procedural dramas for the cash. And they stayed popular. People like mysteries where the bad guy is always punished accordingly and the heroes are reliable and trustworthy– with the exception of those “few bad eggs”. But many of these shows aren’t being produced with the intent of changing public opinion the way Dragnet was. They just fit the formula. 

I think that’s copaganda by proxy. It’s not on purpose but because we’re operating with a system that was designed to make people believe the police are good, that’s what ended up happening. These are your Law and Orders, Miami Vice, Hawaii Five-O, etc. Brooklyn 99 is a weird one because while it's a workplace comedy before it is a cop show, there are times where it is totally tone deaf and really falls into the good cop bad cop binary. 

But I’m here to talk about Psych and the consultant procedural. I like the consultant procedural because it harkens back to the Sherlock Holmes era where the police need some random silly guy to do their job for them because they're too dumb to do it on their own: Castle, The Mentalist, Sherlock (BBC), Elementary, High Potential, etc. But they are, at their core, procedurals and they still get the by proxy treatment. It’s not copaganda on purpose, but it shows how copaganda is ubiquitous with entertainment media. Even shows that aren’t focused on police still fall into this category because that’s how media creators are trained. If something works, don’t fix it. 

So why is Psych weird? 

In some ways, it is totally copaganda. There are episodes like Lassie Did A Bad Bad Thing and You Can’t Handle This Episode that fall into that “few bad eggs” category. It raises up the main characters who are police as well intentioned, while everyone else in the para-military world is open to suspicion. It creates some paranoia for the audience that keeps things interesting. But it perpetuates a myth that the police aren’t a systemic operation based on oppression. And sure, Shawn and Gus are there to save the day because they technically aren’t cops. But they still work closely with the cops and always hand their criminals over to the faulty justice system at the end. That’s the formula created by decades of procedural media– and thereby is copaganda by default. 

Lassie is a problem too. He’s a weird little freak and I love him, but the trope of a gun toting cop who is desperate to shoot someone leaves a pretty bad taste in my mouth (accurate as it may be to real life). And while he mellows out significantly thanks to Shawn’s friendship, there are times where I think it's too much. If he were real, I wouldn’t trust him at all. Henry is the same way, and training Shawn to be a police officer from birth shows how he has drunk the copaganda kool-aid. The glorification of violence by some of the characters is used for humorous purposes, but there’s honestly nothing funny about it. 

But here’s where I think things get a little complicated. Because Psych has some moments of self-awareness that predate the larger, public conversation around copaganda. Obviously, Shawn’s refusal to be a police officer and decision to subsequently break the law in the name of real justice is iffy at times. But he harkens back to the old days of making the police look like idiots. He takes their money and reminds them that they’re foolish. He commits crimes under their noses every single day and no one is the wiser. It does not bode well for the police’s image. 

There are multiple times where Gus expresses hesitation about working with police because he is Black. It’s subtle, as we’re talking 2006-2014 and the conversation surrounding police brutality was upheld majority by the Black community (and falling on deaf ears), but it's there. A Black man criticizing the police on television. Shawn is able to use his whiteness and extend it to Gus, which is a complicated thing on its own, but I do think that James Roday Rodriguez having to hide that he is half Mexican from the industry introduces layers to this. According to the Psych podcast, James and Dulé Hill were intentional in their references to racism in the show. When Psych wants to challenge the traditional narrative about police, it does. And let’s talk about how Shawn and Gus regularly stick up for the little guy. Where Juliet and Lassiter easily dismiss people because of their prior criminal history, Shawn and Gus give everyone equal standing. Sometimes they’re deceived, but they don’t let it influence their future cases. Sometimes their vigilante justice thing goes a little too far, hence violating people’s rights and privacy. Still, I appreciate their passion for doing the right thing simply because it is right. Psych is very interested in showing both sides of the procedural drama and letting the audience make moral decisions for themselves. 

So is Psych copaganda? Erm. Sometimes. I’ve heard it both ways.  

But I think it's also important to note that this is fiction. Extreme fiction. Psych is wild and easily divorces itself from reality. It wants to remind you constantly of genre tropes and play up how ridiculous this all is. In the same way that I can enjoy media about literal murderers and say “it’s a good thing this is just pretend otherwise that would be really fucked up” I think I can extend the same grace to Psych. It’s pretend. It knows it's pretend. It knows this isn’t how the real world works. I know the real cops are bad (but I have the luxury of a media degree and cultural awareness-- not everyone does), and these guys aren't real. So I can suspend my disbelief long enough to watch this funny lil bisexual man cause problems on purpose.

[race-week]

Hi Al! Saw your post on Mexico and was wondering - how can one differentiate a high downforce or a low downforce track just by looking at it?

To be honest for me, it’s just a matter of looking at track maps and layouts it’s not really a science but it’s something that I’ve picked up on overtime.

The key point that I can give is remember what downforce is used for and where it’s helpful. You want more downforce when cornering, particularly at high speeds, but you don’t want downforce when travelling in a straight line.

For the most part it’s quite easy once you’ve got the basic understanding but there are some tracks (like Mexico and a couple others) which don’t quite fit.

My personal method is looking at the map and first of all trying to decide if it’s mostly straights or mostly corners

Starting off with the two ends of the spectrum, Monza and Monaco

Now on first look, I get it, ‘what specifically are you meant to look for?’, they both have corners and straights.

My main thing is looking for the amount of corners, and the type of corners (more on that in a bit) in each sector

So Monza has 3 corners in S1 (one of which is high speed), and 4 corners in S2 and in S3. 11 corners isn’t very many and also each of the sectors are kind of dominated by straights.

Monaco meanwhile has 4 corners in S1, 8 in S2 and 7 in S3 and you can see with the track map that overall the circuit is a lot more twisty and corners make up more of it than straights.

The other thing to consider is corner speeds.

A track that predominantly has medium and high speed corners will likely be a high downforce track as the downforce helps keep the car stable in the faster corners

Low speed corners are quite noticeable as they tend to be significantly tighter and twistier than medium and high speed (see below for some examples)

Putting this into practice looking at tracks

You can see that Baku (left) predominantly has 90 degree slow corners as well as some slow chicanes, whilst Zandvoort (right) has a lot of medium and high speed sweeping corners.

The tricky thing is, a track won’t exclusively have one type of corners, they’ll have a mix of high, medium and low speed corners and deciphering which is the most prominent does take a little time, for instance Zandvoort does have 2 or 3 low speed corners and Monza has a couple high and medium speed corners but it’s a matter of figuring out the dominant features of the track.

As I said earlier, there’s a couple of ‘outlier tracks’ like Mexico, where at first glance it looks like it should be one type of downforce level but in fact it’s the opposite, (Shanghai for instance looks like it should be low or medium downforce but it’s high) and then there’s also the realm of medium downforce tracks which are harder to pinpoint at first glance.

Medium downforce tracks don’t fit in the boxes very nicely and there’s medium downforce tracks that don’t really look like each other

For instance COTA, Suzuka, Miami and Red Bull Ring all fall under medium downforce tracks.

They all have decently long straights, that take up a significant portion of the track distance, some low speed corners but also some medium and high speed corners.

There are a lot of medium downforce tracks on the calendar, more so than high downforce and low downforce and sometimes you’ll see someone mention that a track is medium-low or medium-high downforce this is basically where they fall on that spectrum and at those tracks you might see some teams running a different downforce set up to aid them in particular areas of the track.

A notable one for that is Spa (Belgium) which has a long back straight which would benefit from running a low downforce set up, but a S2 with a lot of higher speed cornering where higher downforce would come in handy, so teams have to make a decision there, when it comes to setting up the car.

[xoxorealitygalore]

Look What You Did 7

Jey Uso x Black OC

Summary: After meeting Joshua, Jalisa embarks on an emotional journey, navigating the vulnerability and joy of an unexpected connection.

Tag: @theusotwinzcom @baybehkay @purplementalitybluebird

Today was not supposed to be a day of stress. It was the one exception Jalisa allowed herself to the strict rules of bed rest, the one day she permitted herself to breathe outside the confines of soft sheets and medical warnings. Her baby shower had arrived, and though her obstetrician had reluctantly agreed, the warning still echoed in her ears: no drama, no stress. She promised. But inside, her nerves rattled like spoons in an empty drawer.

Jalisa sat in the cushioned wicker chair beneath the grand tent in her backyard, a vision draped in lavender lace and tulle. Her belly, round and glowing under the soft fabric, cradled two tiny lives who kicked gently every now and then, as if sensing the celebration. Around her, everything sparkled with the pastel vision she’d dreamed of for months had bloomed into a fairytale.

The backyard had transformed into a wonderland of color and calm. A massive blush-toned tent with flowing curtains swayed in the breeze. Suspended parasols in pink and lilac hovered above the crowd like gentle floating blooms. Hundreds of roses flowed across the long white tables in an ombre spectrum from icy mauve to soft petal pink to rich fuchsia. Glass baby bottles filled with pastel candies sat beside name cards written in elegant gold calligraphy. Crystal candle holders flickered under the light of the afternoon sun, and at the very center of it all stood a towering five-tier cake adorned with sugar flowers and shimmering iridescent details.

Guests laughed over mimosas and pastel macaroons. Children darted through bubbles from a rented machine that spilled them endlessly into the air. A cereal bar stood beside the dessert table, and bowls of Fruit Loops and Lucky Charms shimmered like gemstones beneath glass domes. It was ridiculous. It was excessive. It was perfect. Jalisa wanted to remember this glow, this gathering, this moment of joy in a year that had almost broken her.

She hadn’t wanted Joshua there. Not after everything. Not after the betrayal, the lies, the weeks of confusion that followed the hospital scare. But his sister-in-law, Trinity, had become someone Jalisa trusted, someone who checked in daily, who brought lavender-scented foot soaks and herbal teas when the rest of the world kept its distance. Jalisa couldn’t find it in her heart to exclude her. And that meant Joshua came too.

His two sons came along, whom she hadn’t spent much time with before, but who now chased her younger kids around the yard as if they’d known each other forever. Her two youngest shrieked with laughter, their cheeks sticky with popsicle juice and their hands full of party favors. Her eldest, Kamira, home from the University of Miami for the weekend, never left her side. She wore a tight expression, her lips pressed thin whenever someone from Joshua’s side approached. When Joshua himself arrived, Kamira stiffened.

Jalisa noticed the moment he crossed the lawn. Every woman in her family did. Her sisters, lined up like lionesses, moved instantly to close the gap between Jalisa and Joshua. Tanya, the baby and most outspoken, stood dead center, arms folded like a gate. Joshua slowed, trying to smile, unsure of the reception. He knew better than to push.

Talisua, Joshua’s mother, was more warmly received. She hugged Jalisa gently and rubbed her belly like it was sacred ground. Trinity brought matching baby onesies and sat beside Jalisa during the games. They all laughed during the “Guess the Baby Food” game, and when someone shouted out “Watermelon!” for mashed peas, Jalisa nearly fell out of her chair with laughter.

But every moment was underscored with tension. The kind that hums under silk and smiles, waiting for its chance to scream.

Later, when the crowd thinned and the air cooled with the dusk, Joshua found a moment alone with her. Jalisa didn’t push him away this time. They stood at the edge of the rose-lined fence, the sky painted in lavender and gold, like her theme had bled upward into the clouds.

They spoke quietly. About names. About cravings. About how one twin kicked every night just after midnight without fail. Jalisa watched him press his large hand against her belly, fingers splayed wide, as if anchoring himself to something he feared drifting away.

He whispered something to them. His lips pressed to the space just above her navel.

It made her heart twist in a way she wasn’t prepared for.

Later that night, long after the music died and the last balloon deflated, Jalisa returned to her room. Her ankles ached. Her lower back throbbed. She peeled off the dress, exhaled, and spotted something new on her nightstand.

A journal. Leather-bound. Cream pages.

She opened it.

Inside were entries. Short ones. Little messages, each dated. Some were about his fears, the fear that he wouldn’t be a good father, that he’d mess this up like everything else. Others were tender hopes. That one twin would have her smile. That the other would love the ocean. Between entries were doodles, terrible drawings of babies with huge eyes and mohawks and tiny little fists.

Jalisa sat on the edge of the bed and wept. Quietly. Fiercely.

She wasn’t sure if she loved him. Not anymore. But maybe, just maybe she was beginning to trust again. And maybe those two things weren’t all that different. Not today. Not in this softness.

Four days later, the fluorescent lights in the baby section buzzed quietly. Jalisa ran her hand over a tiny onesie with “Born to Sparkle” stitched in gold thread. Her cart was filled with organic snacks and a few postpartum must-haves. She had come straight from her OB appointment. Everything was fine. The twins were healthy. She needed fresh air.

She sensed it before she saw it.

The gaze.

Someone was staring.

At first, she dismissed it. But then she saw the woman. Petite, polished. Eyes locked onto her belly like it had personally offended her.

“Can I help you?” Jalisa asked flatly.

The woman stepped forward.

“I’m Mia,” she said, like that should mean something.

Jalisa blinked slowly. Then sighed. Of course.

“Look, I don’t have time for this,” she said, already turning her cart.

“I didn’t know Charles was married,” Mia said quickly. “And I’m sorry that Joshua used you to get back at Charles and me.”

Jalisa stopped cold. Her grip tightened on the cart handle.

“Listen,” she said slowly. “I don’t need your apologies. You and Joshua deserve a nice ride straight to hell for the crap y’all put me through.”

Mia’s eyes widened.

“I’m trying to be cordial, our kids are going to be siblings.”

Jalisa rolled her eyes.

“This is me being cordial,” she snapped. “I know Charles told you what I would’ve done if I had found out who you were back then. And I know you heard what I did to Joshua’s car.”

Mia swallowed hard.

“These babies,” Jalisa said, pointing to her stomach, “are saving you. I don’t owe you a damn thing but the sight of my back.”

She turned away.

“I’m still going to try to be civil,” Mia called after her.

“Whatever,” Jalisa muttered, walking off.

Mia watched her disappear. Then, without thinking, she pulled out her phone and dialed Joshua.

“She cursed me out,” she said when he answered. “You really had to get the rudest woman on the planet pregnant?”

Joshua laughed on the other end.

“She cursed you out? I didn’t even know she could curse like that when I met her.”

“She said she would’ve whooped my ass if she wasn’t pregnant.”

“She would’ve,” Joshua replied. “Her family told me all about her. We got off easy.”

Mia scoffed. “There are kids involved. She should be more mature.”

“You weren’t thinking about that when you were sleeping with her husband,” Joshua said coolly.

“You know what? I’m hanging up.”

“Good. Stay away from her, Mia. She doesn’t owe you a thing.”

Click.

Silence.

After Mia hung up, her reflection lingered in the screen of her phone longer than she intended. The problem wasn’t just Jalisa, it was the mirror Mia didn’t want held up to her own actions. She sighed, placing her phone in her purse, and walked away from the baby aisle, heels clicking against the polished tile like the echo of all the doors she’d helped slam shut in someone else’s life.

Back at home, Jalisa sat at her kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal, slowly chewing through her emotions. Cinnamon Toast Crunch had become her comfort lately, the one familiar flavor that calmed her nerves. The confrontation at Target played on a loop in her mind. Not because Mia had said anything she hadn’t already guessed but because her body had gone cold the second she’d heard the name. Her body remembered even before her brain caught up.

She turned her head and glanced at the journal Joshua left behind on her nightstand. It was now on the counter next to her cereal bowl, like a silent witness. She opened it again. The last entry was from the night of the baby shower.

“I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me. I’m not asking you to. But every night I put my hand on your stomach and talk to them like they can hear me and maybe they can. Maybe they know the truth about me before they even open their eyes. Maybe they’ll be the reason I learn how to become better.”

The words didn’t absolve him. But they cracked something in her that had hardened.

When Kamira entered the kitchen, Jalisa snapped the journal shut.

“Everything okay, Ma?” her daughter asked.

Jalisa offered a soft smile. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

Kamira hesitated before speaking again. “I know it’s none of my business, but… if he’s gonna be in the twins’ lives, you gotta set boundaries. Don’t let feelings cloud it. He hurt you.”

“I know he did,” Jalisa said, placing her spoon down. “But I also know what it’s like to raise kids with someone who doesn’t show up. I don’t want that for the twins.”

“Then make him prove it,” Kamira said simply. “Don’t just let him back in.”

Jalisa nodded. “You sound like Tanya.”

Kamira smirked. “Tanya sounds like me.”

They laughed. The sound felt good in the house again. Lately, the only thing filling the silence had been worry and fetal monitor readings. Now, laughter was a balm.

The next day, Jalisa received a delivery of a carefully arranged bouquet of pink peonies and pale lavender orchids with a note tucked beneath the petals. It was from Joshua.

I’ll stay in the background if that’s what you need. But I’ll still be here. For the twins. For you. Always.
—J.

She placed the flowers on the dining table. She didn’t reply. She didn’t have to. Not yet.

Instead, she opened her baby registry app and added a few more things, some swaddle wraps, more pacifiers, a double stroller she’d been eyeing for weeks. These were the tasks that made her feel in control. That grounded her in the here and now.

Later that week, Trinity stopped by with a lavender onesie that read “Mommy’s Twin Angels.”

“You’re not gonna believe who texted me,” she said, sitting on the edge of Jalisa’s bed. “Mia.”

Jalisa arched a brow. “She texted you?”

“She wanted to know what kind of baby gift to buy,” Trinity said. “I told her to buy a clue instead.”

Jalisa snorted. “Thanks.”

Trinity grew serious. “Can I ask you something? Not as Joshua’s sister-in-law. Just as your friend.”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you think… you and him are done?”

Jalisa stared at the ceiling for a moment. “I don’t know. Some days I want to scream at him. Other days I miss him so bad it hurts. I’m scared to love him again. But I’m more scared of raising these babies in hate.”

Trinity reached for her hand. “Then don’t decide today. Just let each day tell you what it is. That’s what healing looks like. Not knowing, but showing up anyway.”

A week later, another false alarm contraction had landed Jalisa back in the hospital. The twins were fine, still safe inside, but the scare reminded her how fragile everything still was.

When she opened her eyes in the dim room, the first face she saw was Joshua’s. He was asleep in the chair beside her bed, arms crossed, chin to his chest. A small coloring book lay on the table beside him with a few crayon drawings of cartoon babies. Kamira must’ve brought it to calm the younger kids earlier. Joshua had picked it up.

She didn’t wake him. She just watched him, really watched him. The way his chest rose with each breath. The way his brows still furrowed even in sleep, like he was fighting demons even in his dreams.

He stayed until morning, when her older sister Vanessa showed up.

“Call me if you need anything,” Joshua told her before he left. Vanessa shook her head.

Vanessa watched Joshua leave with arms crossed and a tight expression on her face. The door hadn’t even fully shut before she muttered, “You let him stay the night?”

Jalisa shifted against the hospital pillows, already tired of the judgment in her sister’s tone. “I didn’t let him. He just didn’t leave.”

Vanessa dragged the visitor’s chair closer, her eyes never softening. “You keep letting him hang around like this, and one day you’re going to wake up back where you started, with a broken heart and two babies to raise alone.”

Jalisa looked out the window, her hand instinctively resting on her belly. “I’m not asking for your approval, Ness.”

Vanessa sighed, her voice gentler now. “I know you’re not. I just want you to be careful. He means well, but meaning well doesn’t always mean doing right. You’ve got more than yourself to think about now.”

“I think about them every second of every day,” Jalisa said. “Trust me, there’s no forgetting.”

Vanessa reached for her hand, squeezing it. “Then don’t forget what you’ve already survived. Don’t forget who you were before him. Don’t lose you trying to rebuild something he helped break.”

Jalisa blinked back sudden tears, but she nodded.

“I won’t,” she whispered.

Because she couldn’t afford to.

The hospital stay stretched longer than expected. Jalisa went into labor that evening.

Joshua barely made it.

But he did.

Jalisa breathed. Focused. Pushed. Screamed. And then—

A sharp, gurgling wail filled the room.

Then another.

Two voices. Two lives.

The sound was so overwhelming, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. So she did both.

"They're here," Joshua whispered, kissing her forehead over and over. "You did it. You did it."

A nurse brought over the first baby—pink, tiny, screaming. "Baby A," she said. "A girl."

A minute later came Baby B—a little girl, quieter, blinking with wide, dark eyes.

"They’re perfect," Jalisa murmured, tears streaming down her cheeks. "They’re really here."

Joshua cradled one in each arm like he'd been doing it his whole life. "We need names," he said, his voice cracking.

She smiled weakly. "I think I know."

Jariana and Jaquala.

The next morning, sunlight poured through the hospital blinds. Jalisa lay in bed, her hair tied up, exhaustion written in the lines of her face. The twins were asleep, swaddled side by side in the bassinet. Joshua sat in the corner chair, arms crossed, watching them—watching her.

"I've never been more scared in my life," he said quietly.

Jalisa looked at him, tired eyes narrowing. "Why?"

"I thought I'd lose you. That night you called me... every minute since then, I’ve been holding my breath."

She said nothing. The silence hung between them like fog.

"I know I lied. I know I came into your life all wrong. But I swear to you, Jalisa, I didn’t fake this part. Not with you. Not with them."

Jalisa blinked at the twins. Tiny faces, tiny lives, a bond that couldn’t be undone now.

"I don’t know what comes next," she whispered. "But I know I need peace. For me. For them."

Joshua nodded. "Then that’s what I’ll give you. Even if it means loving you from across the street."

She looked over at him, truly looked.

“Don’t force it,” She told him.

Next: Look What You Did 8

[imzsuzsis-blog]

"On a mixed day, I was eliminated in the sprint race because of something stupid or because of some stupid bastard, I don't know who it was, and I came fifth in the qualification, which made me almost jump out of my skin with joy." In the literal sense of the word 'chill', I woke up today scratching my throat and coughing very hard and my nose was also running, I immediately called Dr. Yin on facetime, who immediately gave me advice on what medicines to take for my sudden cold. I can hope that it's not serious and it's really just a cold and it only lasts for a week, but Kelly also tries to help, she also hears my cough and tells me to leave, but she realized that medical care here is quite expensive, not like over there where they only look at you and it was almost free here, millions fly out the window if you have a cold and you are not insured. "Drink some more, yes, I know it sucks, but you said you were expecting a baby." I sipped it and spat it out again. I hate rose hips and all its creations. I am disgusted and disgusted by it. "Damn you, Will, you know that scabies is blowing rose hips, don't you know anything else?" "That's not what Jon said that it's good to drink for a cold during pregnancy."

"Kuc, cuc, buddy, you cough really badly." "If you hit my back with your fist and the fetus comes out, I'll beat you up right here, like the taxi hour?" "Good, good, I won't even fuck you with my palm, but you became worried, in your second trimester, Lando." "Not only is care expensive here and I have no idea what to do, but the fact is that the baby will not be born in Monaco." I looked at him and he was shaking him head, worried about the baby, and he was right about the birth, I wouldn't leave a million bill here just because of a birth. ,,England?" He was still shaking his head and coughing roughly. "I don't even know, although then my family would be there too." I looked at Oscar with tears in my eyes because I really don't know everything yet. If I choose England, it's not just me. My family will be there, but also Loki, although he said that the mother is dead, he doesn't know his father and he doesn't have a brother like me, but he also said that whether it's my daughter or my son, he wants to be there when it's born, it's a wonderful moment in life.

,,Basket this and that again! Wow, these WAGs can be beaten in basketball. Oh my god Lando!” I threw the ball and ran to him, he wasn't feeling well, he said in the morning that he thought he had a fever, I checked, there was a temperature rise of 37 and a half degrees, not a fever, but it was almost as they said that the pilots were all safe, I immediately took him to the hospital and told him everything. They laughed and said that it is common here in America for a man or a guy of his age to be pregnant, there is nothing surprising about it, they examined him and only received medicines with natural active ingredients and they said herbal evening tea and salt in a warm place. "Loki, don't worry, I'll get better, but believe me, it's a mild cold." He looked at me angrily and frowned, again a cute little boy was my cute little boy. "Lando, you do have a cold, but you're also pregnant. You should take this literally more seriously. It's not a common cold. If there are two of you, you should take care of it." I rummaged in his pocket, then knelt down with a small box in my hand, he caught it in his mouth and burst into tears of joy. "Will you be my husband Lando Norris?" He was still surprised, but he was already nodding and sobbing in joy, believing him ears. "Yes, I will be your husband, I fell in love with you, I love you." I put a ring on him and he fell on my neck sobbing. "I love you Lando." I couldn't believe that I would find the big one so soon in a famous competitor, and from now on I won't be bothered by the gossip magazines, my boyfriend is engaged and we are planning our wedding and he will have a child, well, not from me, but it will happen. "A nest of rumors has started." "Who cares dear, the only important thing is your health and that of your little one." He started to laugh at this, he leaned over and grabbed my chin, he didn't care that everyone was looking at us, he lived or we shared a kiss.

[aeternisprime]

Big Announcement!

Hello all! This is a bit of a departure from the TOH content I've been putting up recently, but I wanted announce this as well! So, without further ado, I'd like to introduce you all to:

TROLL: THE CULLING!

Welcome to Alternia, a distant grey rock adorned by its pink and green moons that drifts around a burning red sun. This planet serves as the cruel and brutal home of an alien race known as Trolls. The Trolls live in service to a tyrannical, world-spanning government, purpose-bred to conform to its rigid hierarchy. Those at the bottom are ground to dust, fuel for a societal machine that keeps those at the top in power so long as they stick to their predefined roles. It’s a system stuck in stagnation while trolls on either side of the spectrum try to change it in their own, fruitless ways. To put it bluntly, the world is broken. Get used to it.

Troll: The Culling is a Tabletop (T)Roll-Playing Game made to be use din concert with Paradox Interactive's Storyteller v5 system. Set on a version of Alternia where the reckoning never happened, the game aims to capture the political and sociological turmoil presented by Hivebent and Hiveswap with a bit of a darker tinge to it characteristic of the World of Darkness's systems. It also presents a bit of biological horror with its mutation/stability system.

This is something me and a friend of mine (Miami Swacket) have been working on for a bit now, and I'm really excited to finally be able to talk about it some. It's not quite ready for release yet, but we'll be starting playtesting in the coming months. I'll put an interest survey below, as well as link it in my Carrd and Strawpage, so if you're interested in joining a playtest session feel free to fill it out! Even if you're not familiar with Homestuck, World of Darkness, or even TTRPGs in general, any participation in the session/s is extremely valuable!

As far as release goes, we're planning on posting it to a GitHub repository so that anyone who wants to use it can, free of charge. This is something that we've been doing for fun, and we want it to be accessible to as many people as we can make it accessible to!

Anyways, like I've said, this is something that I've been itching to show off for a bit now, and I'm really excited to show y'all more of it as we get closer to playtesting and release! I'll be doing regular updates to talk about different aspects of the game, so keep an eye out for those throughout this summer!

This doesn't mean I'm gonna stop with my TOH content (I've got something a bit more traditional for that coming soon). I've been working on both projects in tandem, and I plan to keep doing that. I've got more TOH Character Intros to put out too. The next one, my Lumity fankid, comes out in 30 minutes. Troll: The Culling is just at a point where I'm ready to start showing it off!

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading! The interest survey is here, so, if you're interested, please do fill it out! Again, even if you don't have any experience in Homestuck, WOD, or TTRPGs, your input is still extremely valuable and we'd love to have you!

[selves-indulgent-coining]

fea lexic(on) terms and flags!

[pt fea lexic(on) terms and flags! end pt]

This is part one of three! Check out part 2 and part 3 if you want.

We were looking a term for someone who is uncomfy with others using fem terms on them, but we couldn't find anything. Thus, we've made our own term.

We've also made mea and nea variants and alt lexic(on) flags.

fealexic(on) alt flag

[alt text: a rectangular flag with 7 horizontal stripes; the second and sixth stripes are twice as wide as the other stripes. the colors are, top to bottom, ultraviolet nusp, party pig, razzle dazzle, white, razzle dazzle, light coral, popstar  end alt text]

Fealexic(on): describes someone who is comfortable being referred to with language commonly associated with women or femininity, such as she/her, miss, ma'am, and queen

Flag meaning: the pinks and red represent the spectrums of womanhood and femininity, white respects unity (because anyone can use terms associated with women or femininity)

Fealexic(on) was coined by an anonymous Tumblr user. Our version of the flag was inspired by the fealexic(on) flag by Ap of Beyond MOGAI Pride Flags.

nonfealexic(on) / nofealexic(on) / afealexic(on)

[alt text:  a rectangular flag with 7 horizontal stripes; the second and sixth stripes are twice as wide as the other stripes. the colors are, top to bottom, wild forest, VIC 20 green, eucalyptus, white, eucalyptus, faded poster, miami jade  end alt text]

Nonfealexic(on), also called nofealexic(on) and afealexic(on): describes someone who is not comfortable being referred to with language commonly associated with women or femininity.

Flag meaning: the hues are the opposite of the fealexic(on) flag to represent not using female nor feminine terms; white respects unity (because anyone can be uncomfy with female/feminine terms being used on them)

Nonfealexic(on) and its flag were coined by us (The A Collective). The flag was inspired by the fealexic(on) flag by Ap of Beyond MOGAI Pride Flags and our fealexic flag.

Please refer to this blog's pinned post for our term and flag policies!

These are not genders! Do not tag them as such.

[dustedmagazine]

Dust, Volume 10, Number 12

Olivia Tremor Control

Another year of Dust goes into the books with this final edition. We’ve relished the chance to work in short form, covering small label releases and chart-toppers, new music and worthy reissues, across a lot of genres but leaning heavily on jazz, folk, punk and experimental music. We hope you’ve enjoyed it, too, Here’s to continuing that, at least, in 2025.

This month’s contributors include: Bill Meyer, Patrick Masterson, Tim Clarke, Ian Mathers, Alex Johnson, Jennifer Kelly, Jonathan Shaw, Christian Carey and Bryon Hayes. 

Abdou / Gouband / Warelis — Hammer, Roll and Leaf (Relative Pitch)

When applied to improvising musicians, residency usually refers to a sequence of gigs at the same club. This session, a first-time encounter for the trio but not for its component parts, takes another tack. The hour of music on Hammer, Roll and Leaf was tracked in alto and tenor saxophonist Sakina Abdou’s home over the course of four days, two of which were taken up with gigs elsewhere. So, we should we call it a residential residency? At any rate, one supposes that the shared time in close quarters contributed to the music’s charge. It has a feeling of excitement in becoming. They’re not just improvising; they’re figuring out who they are as a trio. Each musician brings both flexibility and a strong individual presence. Martha Warelis is as comfortable inside the piano as she is at the keys, and she uses that combination of hardware rumble and high-wire line-tracing to give the music shape, motion and space. Toma Gouband’s penchant for playing with stones and branches filters the conventional spectrum-filling function of his drum kit, and his astute placement of small sounds invites one to listen for the details. Abdou thrives in their company, find a complementary stance for whatever her fellows throw at her. Great stuff.

Bill Meyer

Barker / Parker / Irabagon — Bakunawa (Out of Our Heads)

Andrew Barker is a drummer, improviser and composer based in New York whose cv includes Gold Sparkle Band, Acid Birds and a host of endeavors that blur the line between solo and collaborative. Take this one, for example. Barker put the date together, but when you call on William Parker (heard here on bass, B flat pocket tuba, and a Catalan double reed instrument called a gralla) and Jon Irabagon (tenor and sopranino saxophone), you don’t do so in order to shove music stands under their noses. Each musician adds such personality and imagination to their parts that the shared compositional credits make perfect sense. Each of the LP’s four (five on the download) tracks explores a different tributary off the free jazz stream, pushing back the mapped zone of exploration just a bit.“Fly Anew,” for example, swings with burly muscularity, while “Morgan Avenue Second Line” fractures and scrambles said line into an expression of confrontationally dancing sound, like martial arts sparring match between three choreographers.

Bill Meyer

Batu & Nick León — Yiu EP (A Long Strange Dream)

Bristol’s Batu and Miami’s Nick León are both club vets at this point — the former via numerous late UK bass singles and ownership of both the Timedance and A Long Strange Dream imprints, the latter an adventurous remix workhorse whose 2024 highlight ended up being an Erika de Casier collaboration. Closing out the year with their first EP together, Yiu thrives on the tension between Bristolian bass weight and the lighter, faster beats of Miami’s Latin scene. The eponymous track, originally heard in León’s Dekmantel mix, is the highlight, snagging a reggaeton rhythm and marrying it to swirling, dissonant (but not unpleasant) synths. Don’t miss the bubbly “Tuvan” (yes, there is throat singing incorporated) or the dashing “Palo,” either, though. For just four tracks, a great deal of ground is covered; let’s hope this just scratches the surface of their potential together.

Patrick Masterson

“Deadly” Headley Bennett—35 Years from Alpha (On-U Sound)

If you listen to Studio One reggae, you know Headley Bennett’s playing, even if you don’t know that you know. As part of the core session crew, his spreadably rich alto saxophone is all over the label’s discography, but as a consummate sideman he managed to make it to the age of 50 without making a solo record. When he stuck around London after a tour with Prince Far I, Adrian Sherwood recognized an opportunity to right a cosmic wrong and put him in the studio with drummer Style Scott, singer Bim Sherman and a posse of creatively named On-U Sound regulars. The combination of Bennett’s fluid melodies and Sherwood’s muscularly dubby, percussion-forward production is inspired. Every boingy syndrum, ardently crooned lyric and echoing beat has a reflective surface that points attention to the saxophonist.

Bill Meyer

Blawan — BouQ EP (Temesc)

The longer South Yorkshire producer Jamie Roberts is left to his own devices, the weirder his songs get. Using his literal voice more than ever and letting in a lot more light than his typically aggro, industrial-leaning productions account for, BouQ covers considerable post-dubstep ground for him on the big room highlight “Fires” alone. Lest it be misunderstood, Blawan isn’t going James Blake singer-songwriter mode or getting confessional instead of confrontational, but the more discernibly human touches and melodies of this four-tracker are a distinctive step to the left. It suits him; more than another Persher album or even an extended hardware-only Karenn set, BouQ is the sound of an opportunity, of fresh potential from a guy who’s lived through club trends of the last decade and a half and still has something left to give.

Patrick Masterson

Bursting — Bursting EP (No Sabes)

Bursting cites Jawbox, No Knife, Drive like Jehu and Shiner as musical reference points for its debut six-song EP, but even with that and pedigrees of bands including Coliseum, Stress Positions and Thou, the thing “Trade in Time” reminded me of most immediately was early Foo Fighters. There’s a subtle multitracked quality to Kortland Chase’s higher register that recalls Dave Grohl in his first years after Nirvana and the music never feels too heavy — but far from a negative thing, this just paints Bursting as distinct from its creators’ biggest projects. There’s no question you can hear Jehu’s most driving Yank crimes on “Play It Nice,” but taken as a whole, this is a solid slab of 1990s-indebted indie-rock skirting the perimeter of knotty post-hardcore as it was then delivered. Put another way: It’s easy to imagine a 1995 where “Dark Phase Manager” is an alt-rock radio staple (complementary).

Patrick Masterson

DJ Sabrina the Teenage DJ — Sorcery (Spells on the Telly)

It’s unnerving how prolific DJ Sabrina the Teenage DJ is. The still-anonymous London producer properly broke through with the three-hour odyssey Destiny, a mind-bending 41-track melange of sunny, psychedelic, sample-heavy house the likes of which most people hadn’t heard since the Avalanches’ Since I Left You heyday. That was August 2023. Normally, you’d take a moment after that to make a victory lap, catch your breath and see where you’re at artistically, assess what you want to do next. But that’s you, a mortal; what Sabrina did instead was release two singles and three albums, one of which (Hex) has two companion albums unto itself. The latest (though only a fool would bet on it being the last) 2024 release is the 14-track Sorcery from early December, which fails to dip in the quality we’ve come to expect. Despite oft-straightforward 4/4 rhythms, the sheer density of these productions — which have to look like a nightmare in ProTools, incidentally — boggles the mind. What does her process look like? When does she sleep? How the fuck is this possible? The answer has to be right there in the title; nothing else seems plausible.

Patrick Masterson

The Green Child — Look Familiar (Hobbies Galore / Upset the Rhythm)

The self-titled 2018 debut by the duo of Mikey Young (Eddie Current Suppression Ring, Total Control) and Raven Mahon (Grass Widow) was an uncanny gem. Its deadpan space-pop felt like the soundtrack to an odd, dated nature documentary. On album three, Look Familiar, the duo are joined by Alex Macfarlane (The Stevens, Twerps) on guitars and synths, and Shaun Gionis (Boomgates) on drums. The resulting sound is much fuller and more propulsive, with a motorik bent and a twist of glam swagger. The title feels like a nod to the fact that several of the songs have elements that are reminders of a diverse range of other songs, such as Fleetwood Mac’s “Tusk” (“Easy Window”), Boards of Canada’s “A Beautiful Place Out In the Country” (“A Long Beautiful Flowing Cape”), and even Wang Chung’s “Dance Hall Days” (opener “Wow Factor”). The eclecticism in these reference points is a good indicator of this album’s tunefulness and likeability.

Tim Clarke

Haptic — Sensitive Dependence on Initial Conditions (Line)

One could accurately characterize the entire timeline of the Chicago-identified trio Haptic as a shift between the poles of outreach and interiority. Originally formed expressly to perform live, with guests, extended episodes of geographic separation brought out their latent tendencies towards audience-free interaction. The title tips the hand of this recording, which can be considered an experiential confrontation with destiny. For while the musicians added to, subtracted from, processed and otherwise manipulated sourced from a one-day session at Chicago’s Experimental Sound Studio, they kept coming back to the original sounds. Which is not to say that it sounds like what they played; rather, what you hear was fileted from the original sound capture, dredged through field recordings and room sounds, and then shaken until only a light dusting of influence remained. There are long stretches where it sounds like a rank of long electronic tones tucked behind a cloud bank of room sound, and this immateriality makes the choice to release it only as a digital download feel like an artistic choice to make format congruent with content.

Bill Meyer

Hirsch Swell Clouse Parker — Out on a Limb (Soul City Sounds)

To spell it out, that’s Steve Hirsch on drums, Steve Swell on trombone, William Parker on bass and Jim Clouse on soprano and tenor saxophones. All of them save Minneapolitan Hirsch are New Yorkers who spend a lot of time in Clouse’s Park West Studio, and there’s a rapport between them that contributes to this music’s apparent effortlessness. The horns glide and tangle, then stop and smear textures as one; the bass and drums have a leap-frogging dynamic that keeps the music moving even when one of them temporarily plunges into space and then pops back up, gleefully gravity-defiant. Soulful and free-flying, his is free jazz that inhabits the moment and makes you want to live in it too.

Bill Meyer

Hypnodrone Ensemble — The Problem Is in the Sender—Do Not Tamper With the Receiver (WV Sorcerer Productions)

About all you can count on with a release from this group led by Aidan Baker (Nadja) and Eric Quach (thisquietarmy) is that those two will play guitar, there will be at least three drummers (here Fiona McKenzie, Angela Martinez Muñoz, and Sara Neidorf), and that things are indeed going to drone hypnotically. On this outing, in addition to past contributor Gareth Sweeney returning on bass, there’s a first: vocals, by Lane Shi Otayonii (Dent, Elizabeth Colour Wheel). Otayonii’s wailing vocals are equally entranced and entrancing and fit surprisingly well with the roiling boil the rest of the Ensemble can whip up seemingly on command. The result is just as easy to get lost in as their other LPs, but in a whole new head spinning way.

Ian Mathers

Licklash — Big Smile (Roolette)

Here’s hoping you have at least 12 minutes for punk rock today. Listen just one time through Big Smile, the debut EP from Melbourne duo Licklash, and you’ll have gotten a satisfying pummel from these four furious, bouncy polemics. The pleasures of the blurted but flowing last verse of “Party Line” or the pounding, angular rhythm guitar on “Battleship,” for example, are immediate. But leave Big Smile on for another round and you’ll find a carefully constructed, complex record that, despite its four-year formation, never sounds over-thought or precious.

Big Smile was entirely and admirably produced by the band    — guitarist and vocalist Kahlia Parker and bassist Carsten Bruhn. The mix is clean and balanced and spotlights the subtleties: the crinkled buzz of Parker’s lead riff on “Battleship” or the high, bent notes that orchestrate the music into intervals of calm, of form meeting content, however briefly, on “Control.” Achievements in production noted and appreciated, you’ll keep coming back to Big Smile for the polemics and the pummeling; for Parker’s sharp, indignant delivery of the group’s frantic, funny-until-dead-serious lyrics and headlong, hard struck instrumentation that manages both hardcore intensity and a bumping groove.

Alex Johnson

Low Animal — Bedlam Hiss EP (Decapitator)

I’m not saying it’s Low Animal’s fault my tinnitus is beyond repair — you’re talking to a guy who saw My Bloody Valentine without earplugs in his younger, dumber years — but I’m also not saying they helped at a recent gig in support of Flint grunge staples Greet Death. The flamboyant Chicago quintet knows where their bread is buttered, and on recent three-tracker Bedlam Hiss, they put that noise-rock know-how to tape with a screeching, smashing, soaringly irrepressible pummel. There are a not-unnoticeable number of bands, led by Chat Pile, currently out there demonstrating what they’ve learned from The Jesus Lizard … but I can assure you that few of them match the sonic intensity of Low Animal. The EP doesn’t quite do the live experience justice, so take it from one who learned that too late: Do not leave those earplugs at home.

Patrick Masterson

Lunar Noon — A Circle’s Round (self-released)

Michelle Zheng was reading works by the Vietnamese Buddhist and peace activist Thich Nhat Hanh when she started composing A Circle’s Round, and his thinkings on action, inter-being and connection to all living things permeates the expansive contours of this art-song cycle. The sounds of nature weave through sophisticated, large ensemble arrangements. Indeed, the very first sound you hear is running water. Yet this is no meditation-inducing drone. Zheng constructs shimmering, multi-layered compositions out of choral vocals, strings, piano and other instruments, and enlivens them with constant interlocking motion. Her core band includes half a chamber quartet in violinist Brian Lach and Christopher Healy, plus drummer Théo Auclair, and she herself sings and plays piano and synths.  Some cuts like “Forgettable Consequences” swagger with jazzy urbanity. Others, such as the closer, “The Other Shore,” billow with lively voices at play. “A Circle’s Round” percolates and shivers, approaching Jon Hopkins electronic ambiences. Lovely and complicated.

Jennifer Kelly

Mahall / Stoffner / Griener — Die Exorzistin (Wide Ear)

Give this record’s sleeve a good look. The artists have gone to the trouble of packaging the CD in a 7” single sleeve, thereby guaranteeing two things; it won’t get lost in the same stack as the other slimline CD sleeves, and fading jazz-head eyesight stands a better chance of registering the details of the dense, irreverent collage on its sleeve. Neither the image nor the music it encases seeks to provide comfort. Drummer Michael Griener and clarinetist Rudi Mahall have a partnership that has endured since they were both teens, and they are as jointly fluent in mid-20th century swing as they are in elbows-out free improvisation. They zero in on the latter end of the spectrum through this album’s 17 spiky and generally pithy tracks. Mercurial and agile, they make music like a pair of swordsmen who are just itching for a chance to evade the rules and poke holes in each other’s favorite smoking jackets. Electric guitarist Florian Stoffner is equally nimble, but he brings a clanking sonic ballast to the proceedings.

Bill Meyer

Anne Malin — Strange Power! (Dear Life)

North Carolina poet and songwriter Anne Malin brings an extended ensemble to her fifth full-length, moving away from the ghostly tremors of 2020’s Waiting Song (“These songs have a fey, otherworldly quality,” said Dusted.) towards a surer, more communal sound. There’s nothing spectral about “North Carolina,” for instance. The tune pays tribute to the white sand beaches of Malin’s home state, trace-like percussion, pedal steel and piano flourishing around her warm, twining melodies, while “River” undulates with the warmth of Lily Honigberg’s violin. Still, “Lilac Bloom” is as delicate as the blossoms it celebrates, and wavery washes of surf guitar arise around its slow lament. And edging back into goth, “The Visionary” quotes a poem by Emily Brontë, Malin’s voice echoing the novelist’s 19th century, death-haunted romanticism. Strange Power! builds a narrow bridge between this world and the next.

Jennifer Kelly

Nate Mercereau — Sundays (How So)

Nate Mercereau is a guitarist, sampler and composer who has worked with a long list of high profile musicians, from pop icons like Lizzo, Shawn Mendez and Andre3000, to jazz innovators like Idris Ackamoore and Kamasi Washington. For Sundays, Mercereau pairs with avant percussionist/synthesizer whiz Carlos Niño for a set of radiant, synth-heavy dreamscapes that however somewhere between prog and fusion jazz. Mercereau infuses his music with light and air and nature. When birds twitter in the interstices of “Every Moment Is the First and Last,” and you can almost feel the sunshine pouring in. “Absolute Sensitivity” sits cross-legged in a meditation garden, letting the long tones vibrate, mutate and fade without forcing them into melody. On the downside, these cuts can feel disembodied and imaginary, an unreal landscape too pretty to buy into. However, bits of organic music—alto flights from saxophonist Josh Johnson, kit drums from Jamire Williams—provide some grounding.

Jennifer Kelly

Non Bruises — II (Just Because)

Ohioan Mike Uva returns to his electrified Non Bruises project for a second round, cutting back on the lyrics-focused song structure and zooming in on guitar tone. Thus, “Silent Partner” cuts back to the words to a recorded (and uncredited) inspirational speech, building a slow bloom of post-rock guitar and drums around it. “Moto Rick” is a sharper vamp, all driving guitar/bass/drums for a long time before picking up some thready vocals. Standout “Evelyn Martin,” credited to guitarist Andy Stibora, has a bit more of the first record’s lo-fi GBV-into-Pavement grace, but most of these cuts groove rather than hook. “Taster,” a Grandaddy cover near the end, looms and hazes and resolves, a reminder that the fuzz has to have a center somewhere. We liked the first Non Bruises a lot here at Dusted (“an album that could take its place in your small rack of favorites”) and this one a bit less.

Jennifer Kelly

The Olivia Tremor Control — “Garden of Light” / “The Same Place” (Elephant 6 Recording Co.)

Two new songs by legendary psych-pop band The Olivia Tremor Control were recently released as part of the soundtrack to the Elephant 6 Recording Co. documentary. Then, a matter of hours later, news circulated that Will Cullen Hart had died of a heart attack following a decades-long struggle with multiple sclerosis. The experience of listening to these two songs is not only colored by the news of Hart’s passing, and that of Bill Doss before him, but also the sinking realization that the long-gestating third OTC LP may never see the light of day without Hart or Doss at the helm. Having said that, the strength of the E6 musical community, so beautifully depicted in the documentary, may work miracles once the sting of Hart’s passing has begun to fade. For now, these two songs are premium, essential OTC. “Garden of Light” is classic Doss, full of bright, major-key jangle, harmonized vocals, and Beatles-esque guitar breaks, while Hart’s “The Same Place” could have come straight off the first Circulatory System LP with its mournful cellos and dreamy sway.

Tim Clarke

Ploughshare — Second Wound (I, Voidhanger)

Angular and dissonant, Canberra-based black metal band Ploughshare makes music that seems like it would be more at home in Norway or Northern France. But black metal is global, and always has been; the Scandi bands get the most buzz for breaking the form open, but Brazil and England were likely more important sites of early articulations of the genre’s visual style and unslakable need for infernal speed. Ploughshare plays a much headier, avant-garde rendition of black metal (as the band’s current label suggests), and it’s demanding stuff. This reviewer really digs “Thorns Pressed into His Head,” which achieves a propulsion that is both dementedly downhill in its abandon and deeply dizzying; there’s a churn in your gut if you really dig in and engage. On some of the longer compositions, the desire for atmospherics and rhythmic complexity can drain the music of some of its bloody-minded heat; see “The Mockery of the Demons.” Wish this talented band would devote a little more of their intensity to keeping the music grounded, where its capacity to gouge and pummel has maximum material force. But Second Wound is a mostly satisfying record. If it cuts into you once, you’ll go back.

Jonathan Shaw

Primitive Art Group — 1981-1986 (Amish)

1981-1986 by Primitive Art Group

These New Zealand improvisers used jazz instruments in their work, with some unorthodox inclusions like bass banjo, bass drum, and guitar preparations. Their two albums are collected here. Multiple reeds in tandem create howling dissonance on “Swingin’ in the Rain.” On the live track “Cecil Likes to Dance,” the group channels raucous free jazz from the United States circa 1970, with a central section that thins out to harmonics, drum rolls, and altissimo call and response, and a return to the opening demeanor. “Lannie’s Revenge” has more organized horn charts that are periodically interrupted by spacy organ and angular drumming. Solos from saxophone and organ provide an Arkestra ambience. “Macho Groove” is rife with syncopation and juxtaposes multiple saxophones playing sustained lines and emphatic short motives. 1981-1986 is an eclectic pastiche of free play that embodies the energy of New Zealand’s fertile creative music scene in the 1980s.

Christian Carey

Maeve Schallert — The Etching (cow: music/Astral Spirits)

The Etching by Maeve Schallert

Scratched into a solid but capable of suggesting all manner of active perceptions, etchings have a lot in common with LPs. The Etching may be cut into plastic (or, if you fail to find one of its 100-small micro-pressing, coded into your favorite file format), but it certainly evokes movement. It is performed by Maeve Schallert, a violinist based in Kingston NY who is too young to have known a world without delays and canny enough to spin elusive gold from the collision of architecturally and electronically generated echoes. They created each of the album’s two pieces by feeding phrases into a ten-second delay MaxMSP whilst playing in a stairwell, which generates the impression of violin strokes circling the space like a vortex of bats, then flying up and out towards every possible horizon.

Bill Meyer

Pat Thomas / Dominic Lash /Tony Orell — Bleyschool: Where? (577 Records)

BleySchool: Where by Pat Thomas and Bleyschool

Bleyschool is another in Pat Thomas’ bulging bag of musical tricks. Like Ahmed, which had a banner year in 2024, it deals with history on the English keyboardist’s terms. Accompanied by bassist Dominic Lash and drummer Tony Orell, Thomas sticks to piano and deals mainly with material associated with (but not written by) Paul Bley. The centerpiece is a 16:40 version of Carla Bley’s “Ida Lupino” that melts the original’s melody into a churning textural mass, and then slowly reassembles it. On another Carla Bley composition, “King Korn,” an iridescent bowed bass clears space for a Thomas’ leaping clusters, and “Monk’s Mood” magnifies the tune’s chasmic gaps and springy, wandering rhythms. Mid-20th century jazz often got compared to Cubism; the way that Bleyschool magnifies and distorts their material’s angles and shapes feels very true to that model without sounding like it’s of that time.

Bill Meyer

Vernal Scuzz — Vernal Scuzz (Sweet Wreath)

Vernal Scuzz by Vernal Scuzz

Jasper Lee birthed Vernal Scuzz after Silica Gel dissolved, and this new group’s debut shows off a darker and murkier side of the Sweet Wreath ecosystem. They’re collecting mutant spores from the sooty catacombs of 1980s Manchester rather than grass clippings from medieval pastures. Tight, punchy post-punk rhythms bathe in a fizzy stew of broken circuitry and rangy structures that the band intersperse with arcane rites and translucent melodies. Album opener “La Durée” fools us into thinking we’re in for turn of the millennium post-punk revivalism, but the rest of the songs are steeped in a simmering chaos akin to Liars’ They Were Wrong, So We Drowned. The odd swatch of spoken word finds Lee looking back at the folky leanings of his previous outfit, but Vernal Scuzz would rather rock out than revisit the songs of our ancestors. Their dank, punky energy certainly tingles the eardrums.

Bryon Hayes

[xstarkillerx]

I got ur ask but imma read em first so I can give u a proper review!!! 😋 I'm so grateful for this meal and for the invitation to the brian train... can't wait to see where it takes me. I think I'll read em tomorrow cuz its 3 am rn but I CANT WAIT.

Also, gimme ur hc for Brian pls!!! I need him...

— annnnya prrrr 🪼

Omg literally zero pressure on reading them, they're just there for if you feel like it <3

In terms of hcs for Brian, you might get a kick outta this one.

Context: There's an old PW interview (0:00-0:46) where he gets asked why he thinks he's often paired with majority hispanic casts on films, and he talks about growing up in San Fernando Valley and how it feels like home so he likes it. Anyway, when the interviewer asks him if he can speak any spanish his response is that he can say "all sorts of dirty things," before lightheartedly changing the subject.

Anyway, Brian grew up in Cali too and I like to think he's picked up a little bit of Spanish conversationally from old girlfriends. So, his spectrum of knowledge pretty much consists of the absolute basics, and then the raunchy shit (because freaks obviously flock to him, and he likes when they would dirty talk to him in spanish while he makes them cum), no inbetween. He likes using spanish to flirt nowadays; he's a little sloppy with it, the individual phrases are well structured but he struggles to string together multiple sentence sometimes, regardless, it comes in handy both in Los Angeles and Miami. He comes across a lot more forward in spanish than english because of his limited lexicon and the close nature of his relationships with the people who taught it to him, it's filled with slang and colloquialisms, but sometimes being forward is what you need, especially in the car scene where a lot of the women can match that intense energy. His pretty face, confidence, and the fact that he wins every fucking race with that Skyline definitely helps too.

Also wrote this but decided it should be its own post. Thanks for dropping by Anya!