#epileptic!john | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

just-a-sleepy-idiot · 5 months

Text

Criminal Minds Imagine: Being a Paramedic for ‚The Silencer‘

Based of S8 E1 with the Silencer aka John Myers. I always loved that episode, he‘s one of the few unsubs that I can feel for. Fun fact: The actor who plays him is actually deaf as well!

Content/Warnings: Gender neutral Reader, Canon events, Leg Injury, Short!Reader, Height difference

You were covering the night shift when you were called to come to the Prison and pick up an inmate. Since you were the Hospital closest to the facility you were responsible for the cases that exceeded the qualifications of their medical personnel, as well as anything that happened after their Nurses shift ended. Like now when it was nearing 2 AM in the middle of the night. The guards weren‘t trained to recognize what was wrong with the Inmate, the only thing they could say with certainty over the phone was that he was found collapsed on the floor of his cell, violently shaking as if he was being jolted with electricity.

You and your colleague shot each other a look, while he was driving you prepared the equipment in the back to have anything handy should he turn out to be epileptic or suffer a similarly urgent ailment. You watched the gates of the prison open from the windows in the back, looking on for a moment before you turned back to get a cushion to hold his head still once he was brought in. You opened the doors, the fluorescent lights of the ambulance spilling onto the concrete that the patient was being rolled over by three Guards. They fixated him on a Stretcher of their own, it almost looked too short for a man his size. He was still shaking, you jumped out of the vehicle to help them get him in. His eyelids fluttered when he was brought from the dark into the brightly lit inside of the ambulance, you checked his vitals quickly and prepared an injection.

The Guard that came along for Security reasons hopped in as well and closed the doors behind you, you called out to your colleague to drive without looking up from your patient. The man in front of you didn‘t seem to be aware of anything that was happening, just like you weren’t fully aware of the stuff that Guard was chatting on about while you were at work.

You frowned and looked up when you realized he was talking to you, „Sorry, what was that?“ He sat there so casually like this was a mild nuisance, not the urgent cause for worry over a human life.

„I said it’s a shame you had to come all the way here for that stuff.“ He repeated, and while you looked him in the eyes for a moment and contemplated answering, you didn’t and went back to check for any other injuries.

„So what‘s his problem? Can you tell?“ He pressed on and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his spread knees and looking you over.

„It‘s an allergy.“ You replied, and studied the mans face. Did he have a stroke before? One eyelid was slightly drooping, you flipped through his medical record. While there were many notions about fights he supposedly started and the injuries he took away from them there was nothing there explaining what you were seeing.

And.. „There’s no name? How is that possible?“ The guard shrugged, „Never talked, neither back then or now. Either way he’s silent or he’s violent. A complete waste of tax money if you ask me, but you should know. They call you up for Scum like that in the middle of the night.“

You found yourself getting annoyed with his presence in your work space, this reminded you why you didn’t like taking up these emergencies from the Prison in the first place. That job really seemed to attract a certain kind of man, usually the kind that looked for an excuse to put others down without much of a consequence.

„I don’t know what he did, but being so willing to talk foul of others doesn’t really support your supposed superiority over those you guard.“

You remarked, and there was a moment of silence before suddenly- tires screeched, you were violently thrown back into the wall and the guard flew forward as the ambulance crashed down a hill. Your hearing was muffled by the sound of your blood rushing through your ears like waves crashing down on you, a metallic taste spread in your mouth and made you spit out blood onto the cold floor before you fell unconscious.

It happened so quickly and yet it all took ages, when you regained consciousness you immediately spotted the guard collapsed against the broken doors. You blinked slowly, trying to make out your surroundings.

Hearing velcro snapping open and metal clinking you looked up to find the man getting off his handcuffs and slipping off the Stretcher. When he stood up to his full height his head gently bumped against the ceiling, he tilted his head and looked around-

you make eye contact, you hold onto your breath. He was a Criminal, and judging from the fights he picked in prison he wasn’t adversary to violence.

He said nothing, he only eyed you with suspicion and caution, almost like a wild animal. You didn’t recognize any aggression in his features despite looking worn and well capable of the brutality from his medical record.

He took a step toward you, almost towering over you with the little space he had approached- and held out his hand towards you. His eyes flickered from his hand to you, and your lips parted in surprise. He wasn‘t planning on killing you..

You nervously looked up and yet you found yourself reaching out to him as well to take his offered hand. It engulfed yours easily, his skin radiated warmth against yours and it made you aware of the cold from outside flooding in from the broken doors.

A swift pull brought you up to your feet and a sharp pain made itself aware in your left leg- „Ah..!“ tears shot into your eyes and you instinctively grabbed a hold of his Prison Overall with your free hand to stabilize yourself. „F..Fuck.. I think..“ you breathed. His eyes widened at the sudden motion, instantly letting go of your hand to support your other side. He had seen this pained expression many times, usually it was followed by loud, pained noises that he found unbearable. And yet, even when you gasped in agony it was unexpectedly soft. The tears in your eyes gleamed in the flickering, dimmed lights of the ambulance- it reminded him of something he had read once in a book by Jerry Spinelli; ‚When a Stargirl cries, she sheds not tears but light‘

You looked up to meet his gaze, his ever quiet, intense expression. You weren‘t able to get help if you weren‘t able to walk, the phone dangled from the wall with parts of it scattered on the floor alongside a bunch of medical supplies. The Guard and your Colleague seemed to suffer more than mere unconsciousness, it was crucial that you found someone to help. You.. you should probably start off by taking care of your leg as best as the supply of this ambulance would allow it and give yourself a remedy for the pain. That is.. if he wasn‘t going to change his mind on sparing you. You essentially had no idea what his intentions were, only that he could have easily killed you already if he had wanted to. Would he take you hostage now? Use you for his escape and kill you off once you weren‘t of any use for him anymore? You grimaced, both out of pain and fear, but you didn‘t shout or beg. You simply asked, „Are you going to hurt me?“

He didn‘t immediately react, he couldn‘t guarantee that he wouldn‘t if you did something stupid. But he didn‘t intend to, for now. So he slowly shook his head. You exhaled and closed your eyes in relief, squinting again at the pain. „Are you going to take me hostage?“ You asked, again, he shook his head. You nodded, „Then.. I‘m going to be taking some time to get help. It should buy you enough time to disappear. I don‘t know where exactly we are but.. avoid Thompsville, I see a lot of Guards dropping by there to get lunch. They would recognize you.“ He had more reasons to kill you than to let you go, so the least you could do.. was that. That was when it dawned on you that you were practically clawing at his Overall and you quickly let go, taking a step away from him and hitting the stretcher with your back.

He saw the realization on your face when you became aware of your proximity, quickly you retreated from him despite your sprained leg. But unlike everyone else you didn‘t make a disgusted face when they realized he was there, it was.. embarrassment? He slightly tilted his head. John nodded at your words and took a step back as well towards the doors. He knew where he wanted to go now. Before he was arrested there was no calm, no quiet, no matter where he went in hopes of finally living without the agony of the noisy outside world. But due to an unexpected turn of events did he find a vision of such place in prison. The man in the cell next to him talked of a place so peaceful, it left him yearning to go there ever since. Now he actually had an opportunity to see it for himself.

He was about to turn away, to open the doors and go, when he picked up your movements from the corner of his eye. You heaved yourself up on the strainer and tried reaching the supplies from there, but failed to do so because they were up too high. Your hands were shaking. John paused, and why he did it he could not tell, but he went back to go to the cabinet for you. His hand hovered over it, waiting for you to tell him what you needed from it. „Ah.. um, the syringe, and, yes-„ He got out what you told him you needed.

You lifted your shaking leg so you could start cutting open your pant leg, he got impatient and took the scissors from you and kneeled down to do it instead. He carefully propped your foot on his chest, you looked at him in surprise but let him proceed. He carefully cut through your pants up to your knee to reveal the swelling that confirmed it to be sprained. He helped you put an ankle brace on, careful not to touch you. It might prevent further injury when you moved, and the pain medication you injected yourself would soon start to work as well. You sighed when everything was done that could be done for now- he watched you run your hand over your face. When he helped you you had winced here and there, sighed at the pain, but you didn‘t pull away. Your eyes locked with his, there was no need for you to speak, he nodded at you as if he instantly understood what you felt. You figured he saw it as a repayment for helping him out of the seizure he suffered.

John turned around to open the doors, looking left and right before jumping out of the car. The ambulance had landed in the forest next to the highway, it was dark and steep. You limped towards the doors, and lowered yourself to sit on the floor so didn‘t need to jump when you slid out and came in contact with the forest floor. He was looking around, working on putting together a flashlight he had found in the car. Where were you..? You have rarely been the driver during Calls like these so you couldn‘t really tell where the highway was going either. Shit.. you didn‘t want to hitchhike, how high was the possibility of being spared by a Criminal twice? You‘d rather not wander the street in the middle of the night to be picked up by god knows who. No, best case scenario was you found a shop with cameras, the manager could call an ambulance and send them to your stranded car to help the other two.

The man managed to turn on the flashlight and looked back at you, gesturing you to come along. He would get you close enough to civilization until you could safely walk the rest on your own, maybe you recognized your surroundings at any point and could pinpoint him into a secluded direction.

You followed suit as best as you could, thankfully he illuminated the path in front of you both so you wouldn‘t trip and hurt yourself even more. The forest air was cold but fresh, you heard birds calling out in the distance and the rustling of leaves as the wind bend the trees in what was going to be a storm in foreseeable time.

„I like Night time walks..“ you started talking, just because the whole Situation was freaking you out and you still had lots of Adrenaline pumping through you, „It‘s usually too bright and noisy when you walk in the Daytime. But it‘s really pretty when you look into the Orange lights of someones windows against the blue night. And when the birds act up around the time it gets dark and they fly around in swarms.“ John shot you a glance, lingering for a moment before looking ahead again. When was the last time he was out at night? He tried remembering the last time he had seen what you described to him. Maybe it was in Spring, the night had been warmer than the ones before.

You found a walking path soon, a good sign that you were somewhat close to civilization, at least you could follow that path now instead of hoping that you were somewhat steady in the direction you‘ve been taking. The pain medication was working by now, but it didn‘t make walking any less difficult for you. The man was walking slower so you could keep up, you were thankful of that but at what rate would you actually get somewhere with the way you were limping? The longer you two were gone the closer he was to have the Police called on him. You hoped that he wouldn‘t abandon you in the forest because of this. Time was running and it would rain soon.

It’s been a while, you couldn’t tell if it was thirty minutes or two hours when you came across a gigantic tree on your path, it was so dark you couldn‘t even see the trunk. The man approached it and looked around as well, climbing it with ease and huffing when he jumped off to the other side. You slowed down in your steps, eyeing this massive obstacle in your path warily- he pointed the light back at you so you could see and it wasn‘t looking good. Should you try to get on your stomach and then just.. just move over like a seal? The man seemed to recognize the problem as well, because he got on top of the tree as well. He crouched down to one knee and held his arm out to you.

You limped closer and carefully put one hand on his shoulder, imagining he‘d support your balance– you let out a surprised sound when his hand came around your waist instead and he heaved you up into his arms instead with one arm, lifting you off the ground as if you weighed nothing. You instantly went to put your arms around him to hold on, clawing at his collar. You felt heat rushing into your face when you felt his fingers gently dig into your thighs. He rose up to his full height again, adjusting you in his arms by heaving you up a little more. He got off the tree, careful not to shake you too much. For a second he caught a whiff of your perfume. It was sweet, like a vision of the place the man in prison had told him about. The paradise he was chasing, with lush fields and honeybees.

When his feet touched ground again, John pointed the light towards you again to check if you were alright. His eyes widened just a little when he saw that a dark shade of red had flooded your cheeks, and your eyes caught his with a glassy look of embarrassment. He mustered you for signs of discomfort, yet the only thing he could discern was that you seemed to be.. flustered. Hm.

People usually didn’t react to him that way. Many of them crossed the street or put distance between themselves and him even if he was just minding his own business.

His imposing height paired with this impairment he had with noises, his defiance to speak after growing up deaf, it made him unapproachable and suspicious to most people. He understood why, and over time the noise sensitivity and isolation had turned him into a recluse. But..

he couldn’t deny that this felt nice, comforting in a way. He didn’t remember the last time he wanted to be careful with someone else in the way he was with you right now.

He held out the flashlight to you and you took it from him with a questioning look. Once his other hand was free he put his other arm around your legs, shifting you so you laid in his arms like a bride instead. You swallowed thickly, unable to break eye contact with him for yet another moment before you pointed the light ahead of you so he could see. His hands were warm through the fabric of your clothes.

„So you don‘t talk at all..?“ You started after a while, looking up into his face. It seemed like he was going to show no reaction, but then he nodded slowly while still looking ahead. „I assume no one in Prison is using sign language with you.“ You were quiet for a while, rocking in his arms with every step. You heard the gravel under his shoes. The wind picked up, you slightly cowered more into his chest. „If you had written letters to someone they would have known your name by now. So.. so do you communicate with anyone at all?“ You looked up to him, he frowned and his eyelids fluttered for a moment. How did you know? Why did you ask? He did not dare meet your gaze.

First raindrops were starting to come down, a contrasting cold against your warm cheeks. You shivered. „That must be hard.“ You breathed, gaze letting go of him to trail down to your legs. The swelling of your leg still alarmingly prominent. When the rain picked up you blinked fast and instinctively hid your face in his Overall. His eyes quickly darted down to you when you did that, John slightly pressed his lips together and slowly looked up again. Your nose nuzzled against him, it felt like he held a fawn in his arms.

It seemed as if the forest was slowly clearing up, the path was getting wider. You must be close now-

A light cut through the dark, one that was not your own. He spotted a house, no, more than that. A village.

The luminescent lights of a nearby gas station reached you, a car was just driving away from there.

Relief coursed through you, you turned off the flashlight and ran a hand through your hair. God.. you actually managed to get there before the night was over! Maybe your colleagues had a chance, maybe someone had called already to find your ambulance. You needed to tell them where you were.

He halted and bend over, carefully helping you back onto your feet. His eyes flickered over you when he stabilized you and took back the flashlight. You realized he wouldn’t want to get any closer, once you made your call this place would be swarmed by Police.

So.. this was it?

You breathed out and looked at him, you didn’t quite know what to say. Your form stood against the orange light from behind you, contrasting the blue from the night. A scene molded out of your words. Maybe you could make all these impressions come true with your words.

„I.. um,“ you brushed a wet strand of hair out of your face, it was pouring now. „Thank you for taking me here. I don’t know what you did that got you into prison, but I know what you did for me so.. please stay safe.“

You smiled and, maybe it was the adrenaline but, you leaped forward and hugged him. Johns arms instinctively jumped upwards in surprise, he felt his heart race against the spot where your head laid.

He was.. fully immobile for a moment, when he managed to regain his senses John put his arms around your smaller frame in return. He engulfed you easily, the rain seemed to stop when he lowered his head to rest on top of yours for a moment. Even now he seemed to be very careful with his touch.

He felt weirdly grateful for this, for the way you allowed him some kindness despite his unknown past, despite his Silence. You squeezed him and let go, he inhaled deeply and nodded at you before taking a few steps back.

You smiled lightly and turned around to go to the Gas station. When you turned around one more time he was gone, but you saw the faint light of the flashlight dancing through the trees. Birds called out from the forest and took off into the sky.

It‘s been a while since I‘ve written or posted anything. I hope you liked this nonetheless and if you did it would motivate me if you left a comment or an ask!!

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds the silencer #criminal minds john myers #Criminal minds S8 E1 #Criminal minds Season 8 #gender neutral reader

21 notes · View notes

drowsyreaper · 3 months

Text

Ok, I understand that a lot of people dislike Speed Racer (2008). The movie is A Lot. But I will defend it to the death nonetheless. It is pure escapism. The colors are hyper saturated. Physics are wrong. Car-fu is a thing. A team of viking drivers accept a bribe in fur pelts. John Goodman bodies an assassin and follows it up with the line, "it's terrible what passes for a ninja these days." A corrupt corporate monopoly is broken up by racing real good. Nothing about the visuals in this movie is safe for epileptics and I'm so sorry for them because, to me, Speed Racer is so full of joy.

#speed racer #movies #one of my favorite movies of all time

17 notes · View notes

behindthecrowns · 2 months

Text

Excerpt from the book "The life story of King George V" by Richard C. Dent

There was a shadow over Buckingham Palace during the Christmas season of 1918, for little Prince John,the baby of the family, was ill all through December. Prince John was not generally known to the public, for he had always been delicate, and was subject to epileptic fits, which grew more frequent as the years went by. He was the sweetest little boy imaginable,but none of us saw him very often, as he had to be kept quiet.

He lived most of his short life at Wood Farm. Sandringham, with Mrs. Bell, his nurse from infancy. Nobody knew how the King and Queen suffered over their little boy.

During these War years the child was often very ill, and their Majesties, during many of their smiling, cheery visits to hospitals and camps, sometimes did not know what news they would receive when they returned home. Their own parental anxieties were never allowed to interfere with public duties.

How the King and Queen sometimes longed to go down to Wood Farm to see their little boy, instead of remaining in London, can only be imagined, for it can never be known, although some of us guessed.

Once I happened to be with the Queen, when she was visiting a hospital for children. Suddenly she stopped at a cot, saying: "Oh, how like my little Johnnie he is!" and there were tears in her eyes. Tenderly she went up and kissed the little boy. That was the only sign I ever saw her give of an ever-present anxiety about the little Prince.

He had a decided talent for drawing, and loved gardening. His little garden at Wood Farm was always beautifully kept, and often when he wrote to his parents he would enclose a pressed pansy. Once a really lovely rose came out on his rose-tree. "Mummie must have this alive" he said to his nurse, and accordingly it was cut, packed care-fully in a box, and sent to Queen Mary, who wore it for three days, and then kept it in a little vase in her own room.

Prince John died on the 18th of January, 1919, and his funeral, at their Majesties' request, was very simple. The coffin was made from oak at Sandringham, and the grave was lined with ivy, studded with poinsettias and shields of Christmas roses. Canon Dalton conducted the service, and the King and Queen cast little bunches of spring flowers into the grave of their 'darling little Johnnie'.

#the lost prince #british royal family #prince john #british royals #brf #british royalty #royal family #uk monarchy #queen mary of teck #king george v #ukfanpage

9 notes · View notes

mybeautifulchristianjourney · 6 months

Text

The Transfiguration

1 And after six days, Jesus took Peter and James, and John his brother, and brought them up into a high mountain, alone.

2 And He was transfigured before them. And His face shined as the sun. And His clothes were as white as the light.

3 And behold, there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with Him.

4 Then Peter answered, and said to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here. If You would, let us make three booths here; one for You, and one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”

5 “While he was still speaking, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them. And behold, a voice came out of the cloud, saying, “This is My beloved Son, in Whom I am well pleased. Hear Him.”

6 And when the disciples heard that, they fell on their faces, and were very afraid.

7 Then Jesus came and touched them, and said, “Arise. And do not be afraid.”

8 And when they lifted up their eyes, they saw no one, except Jesus only.

9 And as they came down from the mountain, Jesus charged them, saying, “Tell no one of this vision until the Son of Man has risen again from the dead.”

10 And His disciples asked Him, saying, “Why, then, do the scribes say that Elijah must come first?”

11 And Jesus answered, and said to them, “Certainly Elijah must come first, and restore all things.

12 “But I say to you that Elijah has come already, and they did not know him. But they have done to him whatever they would. Likewise, the Son of Man shall also suffer by them.”

13 Then the disciples perceived that He spoke to them of John Baptist.

14 And when they had come to the multitude, a certain man came to Him and fell down at His feet,

15 and said, “Master, have pity on my son. For he is epileptic and suffers greatly. For he often falls into the fire, and often into the water.

16 “And I brought him to Your disciples, and they could not heal him.”

17 Then Jesus answered, and said, “O faithless and crooked generation. How long now shall I bear with you? Bring him here to Me.”

18 And Jesus rebuked the demon. And he went out of him. And the child was healed at that hour.

19 Then the disciples came to Jesus privately, and said, “Why could not we cast it out?”

20 And Jesus said to them, “Because of your unbelief. For truly I say to you, if you have faith as much as is a grain of mustard seed, you shall say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’, and it shall move. And nothing shall be impossible to you.

21 “Nevertheless, this kind only goes out by prayer and fasting.”

22 And while they were in Galilee, Jesus said to them, “The Son of Man shall be delivered into the hands of men.

23 “And they shall kill Him. But the third day He shall rise again.” And they were very sorrowful.

24 And when they had come to Capernaum, those who received the temple tax came to Peter, and said, “Does not your Master pay temple taxes?

25 He said, “Yes.” And when he had come into the house, Jesus stopped him, saying, “What do you think, Simon? From whom do the kings of the earth take tribute (or temple taxes) - from their children, or from strangers?

26 Peter said to Him, “From strangers.” Then Jesus said to him, “Then the children are free.”

27 Nevertheless, so that we should not offend them, go to the sea and cast in a hook. And take the first fish that comes up. And when you have opened its mouth, you shall find a coin. Take it, and give it to them for you and Me. — Matthew 17 | Revised Geneva Translation (RGT) The Revised Geneva Translation of the Holy Bible; © 2019 by Five Talents Audio Cross References: Exodus 30:13; Exodus 34:29; Exodus 38:26; Deuteronomy 32:5; Judges 13:20; Isaiah 19:14; Isaiah 42:1; Song of Solomon 6:10; Malachi 4:5; Matthew 3:1; Matthew 3:17; Matthew 4:24; Matthew 5:29-30; Matthew 8:4; Matthew 8:20; Matthew 8:26; Matthew 11:14; Matthew 13:31; Matthew 14:27; Matthew 16:21; Matthew 20:19; Matthew 22:19; Matthew 26:37; Mark 5:37; Mark 9:5; Mark 9:14; Mark 9:22; Mark 9:29; Mark 9:42-43; Luke 9:33; Luke 20:22; Acts 1:6; Acts 3:21; Revelation 1:17

#the transfiguration #Jesus heals a boy with a demon #Jesus again foretells His death and resurrection #Jesus and the Temple tax #Matthew 17 #Gospel of Matthew #New Testament #RGT #Revised Geneva Translation #Holy Bible #Five Talents Audio

8 notes · View notes

moviehealthcommunity · 1 year

Photo

Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves (2023)

This is a Movie Health Community evaluation. It is intended to inform people of potential health hazards in movies and does not reflect the quality of the film itself. The information presented here has not been reviewed by any medical professionals.

Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves has two flashback sequences that show severe lightning, creating strong strobe effects. These are the first two flashback scenes taking place after the introduction of the character played by Regé-Jean Page (pictured in the poster to the left of Chris Pine). There is one very quick strobe effect during a magical fight scene near the end of the film, happening after a stadium sequence.

There are several disorienting camera movements that occur throughout the film, including rolling the camera in various directions, action at high speeds, and very brief but severe shaking. Multiple scenes include peril at extreme heights.

Flashing Lights: 7/10. Motion Sickness: 6/10.

TRIGGER WARNING: Multiple animals are shown to have things coming out of their throats, including an oil-like substance, sparks, and a cat. One late scene shows several people foaming at the mouth.

Image ID: A promotional poster for Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves

105 notes · View notes

hatigave · 1 month

Text

Archie Kennedy an extremely detailed character study ( cw: mention of suicidal ideation, briefly mentioned mental/physical/sexual abuse, depression. )

Full Name: Archibald John Kennedy Nickname/Alias: Archie Meaning: An Old German name, Archibald is made up of the elements erchan, meaning "genuine," and bald, which means "bold," Title: Midshipman / Fourth Lieutenant Pet Name: none

Gender: Masculine leaning nonbinary in modern verses. Cis male in canon or historical verses. Orientation: homosexual Age: 27 Birthday: July 30 Birthplace: London Astrological Sign: leo

Immediate Family: Johnathan Kennedy (father) Caroline Kennedy (mother) Edward Kennedy (older brother) Margaret Kennedy (older sister) Distant Family: none of importance that he particularly cares about aside from his aunt Theresa who introduced him to theatre and poetry when he was five years old. Upbringing: strict for modern standards, but lenient regarding the time period. As the second son and youngest child, Archie was able to enjoy a lot more simple pleasures than his older siblings. The Kennedy home was a place where love lived, and he was raised with the knowledge that this would never change Infancy: Archie was an easy infant. He slept through the night early and never fell sick aside from a minor cold once. In fact, he slept so soundly that his mother and the staff thought him dead at times. Childhood: as the youngest child he quickly took up the role of class clown in their family dynamic. Archie would go to great lengths to make his siblings and parents laugh. And it was not unheard of for him to crawl up on the table or other furniture to perform a scene from a play he'd grown obsessed with. Scraped knees became a staple as he fell out of trees while playing with Edward. He was so filled with joy. Adolescence: his adolescence is divided into two parts, the years before him joining the Navy and those after joining. Before he was a carefree boy who would spend nearly every waking hour at the theatre either performing or assisting wherever he could. Acting came naturally to him, and he was able to circulate in the same circles as some of the most prominent figures in the scene. After he was quick to crush whatever joy remained inside of him. Jack Simpson took everything from him the first time he slammed his face into a wall and undid his trousers — Archie shrunk within himself as a way of surviving the trauma he endured. Adulthood: the abuse has changed him forever, and the carefree happy boy he once was has been reduced to a mask. Happiness is still there, but it only comes out as an act when he thinks it is beneficial to others. He sees Horatio's sadness and counteracts this by once more taking the shape of the jester. Archie pushes away his own fears in favour of uplifting those around him. The only place where his happiness and joy are real is on the Indy, but even there he's prone to fall into the clutches of his depression and his suicidal ideation.

Species: human Ethnicity: Caucasian Preferred Hand: right-handed Facial Type: triangle Eye Color: blue Hair Color: strawberry blond Hairstyle: wavy unruly thick hair that is shoulder length Skin Tone: fair with a tendency to burn rather than to tan Makeup: none, although he is no stranger to stage makeup Build: mesomorph Height: 5'3 / 160cm Weight: 62kg Facial Hair: none Birthmarks/scars: various birthmarks littered across his body, minor scars across his hands, arms, chest and back either from battle or gifts from Jack Simpson. One more gruesome-looking scar on his left ankle. And in post-canon verses the scar from being impaled by a sword. Distinguishing Features: impossible blue eyes.

Health: while his physical health is excellent, his mental health is far from it. He suffers from severe ptsd / depression / non-epileptic seizures Energy: high, although this is a reaction to his body quite literally being in a fight or flight state for years. If he feels safe somewhere he will become low energy and sleep for hours on end to recharge. Memory: Archie struggles with short-term memory after he developed seizures and most of his childhood memories have been wiped. But he does remember faces and minor details extremely well. Senses: an exceptional sense of hearing, but his eyesight is not as great as it could have been. Allergies: a minor allergy for eggs, but he thinks everyone just gets itchy after eating them. Handicaps: non-epileptic seizures. Phobias: claustrophobia and a deep-rooted fear of being buried alive. Addictions: none in canon, a slight addiction to sleeping pills in modern verses.

Style: flamboyant and colourful when he's able to dress in anything but his uniform. A big fan of natural fabrics and obnoxious patterns in modern verses. Grooming: well-groomed with an insane attention for detail. Archie 100% plucks his eyebrows. Posture: atrocious when sitting. Extremely straight when in the presence of higher ranking officers or standing. Gait: an upright posture, a controlled arm swing, and consistent strides. Confident, even when it is all an act. Habits and Mannerisms: cracking his knuckles or his neck, nervous movements of his fingers, clearing his throat. Scent: lavender, seaweed, vanilla.

Mood: melancholic internally, happy externally. Attitude: while he portrays a very positive attitude towards the world, he is not above a well-placed snarky comment. There is a filter in place between his mouth and his brain to filter out any 'bitch please' phrases he might wish to say. He however has no such filter for his face, and his expression will betray him. Stability: about as mentally stable as a Jenga tower Expressiveness: extremely. Archie has never felt an emotion that has not immediately been visible on his face.

Current Residence: verse depended Friends: Horatio and William Enemies: Jack Simpson Bosses: Edward Pellew, Don Massaredo in a weird way Heroes: Horatio and Edward, he idolizes those men, as well as Katharine "Kitty" Cobham Rivals: n/a Relates to: tba Pets/Familiars: none, even when Archie has a soft spot for cats and he would love to have multiple of them.

Lovers: See this headcanon. Marital Status: verse depended. Sex Life: alive and well. Often, frequent, and preferably with no strings attached. Element: fire

Occupation: Midshipman / Fourth Lieutenant depending on the timeframe. Rank: see above Wealth Status: upper class, old money. Organizations/Affiliations: the British Navy / mostly loyal to his friends and those who he thinks need him, not necessarily the crown itself.

Religion: catholic Morals: he sure has them, but they are easily discarded in favour of the needs of his friends. Crime Record: charged and found guilty for mutiny and treason. Also aiding and abetting in war crimes with Horatio, although he has not stood trial for that. Motivation: the protecting of those he cares about, very little self-preservation. Etiquette: well-mannered, and pristine.

Main Goal: to survive long enough to see those he cares about happy and safe. The only reason why he pushes forward is to ensure their safety, it has very little to do with his own wellbeing. It helps that he always surrounds himself with impulsive people who keep finding themselves in the shit. The circle truly never ends. Desires: to be loved and accepted for who and what that he is. Greatest Achievement: becoming fourth lieutenant. Biggest Failure: not pursuing acting, even if it was the only thing that ever truly provided him with joy. Regrets: not being present when Simpson died. Not making peace with his family before the end. Worries: being forgotten or being seen and afterwards being judged as not good enough.

Hobbies/Interests: plays and poetry with an unhealthy obsession with Shakespeare's works. Skills/Talents: acting and reciting poetry and general lines from memory. He has an affinity for dance and music as well even when he does not like to sing around others, and he gets self-conscious while dancing as he always feels like he's being watched. Likes: lively music, sweet foods, physical affection from those he trusts, compliments. Dislikes: snakes, thunderstorms, small spaces and abuse of authority. Sense of Humor: sarcastic and dark. Quirks: vocal stimming and a few facial ticks (twitching his mouth, scrunching his nose)

Strengths: considerate and empathic. Archie is not prone to seeing enemies in nationalities and forgives easily if he or his friends have not been deeply wronged. Flaws: prone to oversharing. His snark can be interpreted as being insubordinate and mean-spirited. Perception: gloomy and bleak or overly optimistic and dreamy. No in-between. Soft Spot: those who are at war within themselves, young people who are looking for guidance. Cruel Streak: none.

Powers/Abilities: n/a Origin: n/a Weaknesses: n/a

Favorite Colors: light blue, deep orange Favorite Animals: cats, foxes, and he's really into the idea of lions even when he has never seen any. Favorite Mythological Creatures: Pegasuses Favorite Flavors: anything rich and sweet. Dark chocolate, strawberries and strong tea with milk Favorite Foods: he's a big lover of good bread and cheese, but he also loves oranges. Favorite Drinks: strong tea Favorite Genre: romance (with a happy ending) Favorite Books: anything Shakespeare Favorite Movies: n/a Favorite Games: cards, even when he gets his ass beaten by Horatio every single time. Favorite Shows: n/a Favorite Music: high-tempo folk music as long as it contains a fiddle Favorite Bands: n/a Favorite Songs: n/a Favorite Sports: n/a Favorite Stores: n/a Favorite Numbers: 3 Favorite Websites: n/a

Least Favorite Colors: bright, eye-burning, pink. Least Favorite Animals: snakes and rats Least Favorite Mythological Creatures: sirens Least Favorite Flavors: anything sour Least Favorite Foods: none, he will happily eat anything Least Favorite Drinks: strong bitter coffee Least Favorite Genre: horror Least Favorite Books: none, he will try and find a redeeming quality in all books. Least Favorite Movies: n/a Least Favorite Games: he's a big fan of all games either physical ones or board games. He gets way too into it. Least Favorite Shows: n/a Least Favorite Music: anything that does not move him to his core. Least Favorite Bands: n/a Least Favorite Songs: n/a Least Favorite Sports: n/a Least Favorite Stores: n/a Least Favorite Numbers: 13 Least Favorite Websites: n/a

Languages: English, Spanish post episode three, and minor French which is barely enough to hold a conversation. Accent: Queen’s English mostly, but years of speaking with a Cockney accent to blend in with the working crowd of the theatre have left their mark, and it will sometimes slip out when he's drunk. Voice: rather loud, he goes slightly up in pitch at the end of a sentence. Expletive: in fact Laughter: loud and infectious. Archie laughs with his whole body and he's prone to laughing fits.

MBTI Personality Type: ESFP Temperament: sanguine Enneagram: type seven / the enthousiast Ego/Superego/Id: id

Alignment: lawful good Symbol: a waxing moon Vice: lust Virtue: compassion

#xi. a fragile mind & hands made to hold ( kennedy : headcanon )#this took ....... two hours ........#but I plan on doing this for every muse and adding them to the carrd :) because I love to suffer :)

2 notes · View notes

parkeryangs · 10 months

Note

Packing ask! Could you tell us about some of your fav Faroe head cannons? (packing hell if so fun and im definitely in it as well)

i don't really have many thoughts on an alive version faroe in canon SO i'm gonna talk some various au things per usual lol;

in the meowlevolent universe, when john is "officially" a part of the family, they start to spend a lot of the weekends camping & being outdoors while she's growing up! & john teaches her how to fish (they both tease arthur because he refuses to help bait the hooks)

when she's in middle school, she gets a seizure-alert dog called newt:] he and harper are bffs even though harp is decidedly not as young as she used to be

she goes to college in arkham where her dads still teach!:) she studies studio arts and becomes a painter, (and even though arthur can't ever see her work, he and john go to every art show. john takes pictures + describes each one to arthur, still)

she meets her girlfriend, addison larson, during a show. addison works as an art journalist in fall river and long considers herself a "fan" of the up-and-coming faroe lester when they run into one another at a gallery. they start to keep in touch, and a few weeks later meet for coffee for an "interview" though both wish it was a date (it was a date the whole time)

in the apocalypse au, she's hard of hearing; her eardrum ruptured after exposure to gunshot noise without protection, so it's irreversible + left her with tinnitus and balance problems

she's scared of heights, due to inheriting her dad's essential tremor (though less severe!) & also being epileptic in this au too lol

arthur + parker don't want her handling weaponry as much as they can help it, but she's a better shot than both of them lol

^ bc of this, parker calls her sniper :]

she has burn scars, mostly concentrated on her left arm; when she was a baby, the lester house caught on fire & bella died of smoke inhalation. after that, faroe & arthur temporarily lived in a dangerous part of the city before arthur met parker and they moved moved in with him.

she can play the guitar!! being 15 in this au, she's very much in the mindset of wanting to be nothing like her father (though they are so alike its painful lol), so after refusing to learn piano at his offer for years, he gets her a guitar for her bday and she loves it.

she's a bit reckless and endangers herself/others a Lot solely because she's still clinging to the pre-apocalypse "how things used to be", mindset and as such makes incredibly poorly thought-out decisions.

she was born + raised in arkham, but has a decently thick southern accent, incidentally taken on from closely growing up around parker (who's, ofc, a texas boy forever and ever)

#addiroe are destined to find each other in any universe huh #askbox #malevolent apocalypse au #finch chirps #finch's headcanons #< tbh at this point a tag is warranted lol

9 notes · View notes

meta-squash · 9 months

Text

Squash's Book Roundup 2023

Last year I read 67 books. This year my goal was 70, but I very quickly passed that, so in total I read 92 books this year. Honestly I have no idea how I did it, it just sort of happened. My other goal was to read an equal amount of fiction and nonfiction this year (usually fiction dominates), and I was successful in that as well. Another goal which I didn’t have at the outset but which kind of organically happened after the first month or so of reading was that I wanted to read mostly strange/experimental/transgressive/unusual fiction. My nonfiction choices were just whatever looked interesting or cool, but I also organically developed a goal of reading a wider spread of subjects/genres of nonfiction. A lot of the books I read this year were books I’d never heard of, but stumbled across at work. Also, finally more than 1/3 of what I read was published in the 21st century.

I’ll do superlatives and commentary at the end, so here is what I read in 2023:

-The Commitments by Roddy Doyle -A Simple Story: The Last Malambo by Leila Guerriero -The Hero With A Thousand Faces by Joseph Campbell -Uzumaki by Junji Ito -Chroma by Derek Jarman -The Emerald Mile: The epic story of the fastest ride in history through the Grand Canyon by Kevin Fedarko -Venus by Suzan-Lori Parks -The Hearing Trumpet by Leonora Carrington -Sacred Sex: Erotic writings from the religions of the world by Robert Bates -The Virginia State Colony For Epileptics And The Feebleminded by Molly McCully Brown -A Spy In The House Of Love by Anais Nin -The Sober Truth: Debunking the bad science behind 12-step programs and the rehab industry by Lance Dodes -The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea by Yukio Mishima -The Aliens by Annie Baker -The Criminal Child And Other Essays by Jean Genet -Aimee and Jaguar: A Love Story, Berlin 1943 by Erica Fischer -The Master And Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov -The Mustache by Emmanuel Carriere -Maldoror by Comte de Lautreamont -Narrow Rooms by James Purdy -At Your Own Risk by Derek Jarman -Escape From Freedom by Erich Fromm -Countdown: A Subterranean Magazine #3 by Underground Press Syndicate Collective -Fabulosa! The story of Britain's secret gay language by Paul Baker -The Golden Spruce: A true story of myth, madness and greed by John Vaillant -Querelle de Roberval by Kevin Lambert -Fire The Bastards! by Jack Green -Closer by Dennis Cooper -The Woman In The Dunes by Kobo Abe -Opium: A Diary Of His Cure by Jean Cocteau -Worker-Student Action Committees France May '68 by Fredy Perlman and R. Gregoire -Capitalist Realism by Mark Fisher -The Sound Of Waves by Yukio Mishima -One Day In My Life by Bobby Sands -Corydon by Andre Gide -Noopiming by Leanne Betasamosake Simpson -Man Alive: A true story of violence, forgiveness and becoming a man by Thomas Page McBee -The Artist's Reality: Philosophies of Art by Mark Rothko -Damage by Josephine Hart -Schoolgirl by Osamu Dazai -The Passion According to G.H. by Clarice Lispector -The Sex Revolts: Gender, Rebellion and Rock n Roll by Simon Reynolds and Joy Press -The Traffic Power Structure by planka.nu -Bird Man: The many faces of Robert Straud by Jolene Babyak -Seven Dada Manifestos by Tristan Tzara

-The Journalist by Harry Mathews -Bullshit Jobs by David Graeber -Moscow To The End Of The Line by Venedikt Erofeev -Morvern Callar by Alan Warner -The Poetics Of Space by Gaston Bachelard -A Boy's Own Story by Edmund White -The Coming Insurrection by The Invisible Committee -Jesus' Son by Denis Johnson -Notes From The Sick Room by Steve Finbow -Artaud The Momo by Antonin Artaud -Doctor Rat by William Kotzwinkle -Recollections Of A Part-Time Lady by Minette -trans girl suicide museum by Hannah Baer -The 99% Invisible City by Roman Mars -Sweet Days Of Discipline by Fleur Jaeggy -Breath: The new science of a lost art by James Nestor -What We See When We Read by Peter Mendelsund -The Cardiff Tapes (1972) by Garth Evans -The Ark Sakura by Kobo Abe -Mad Like Artaud by Sylvere Lotringer -The Story Of The Eye by Georges Bataille -Little Blue Encyclopedia (For Vivian) by Hazel Jane Plante -Blood And Guts In High School by Kathy Acker -Summer Fun by Jeanne Thornton -Splendid's by Jean Genet -VAS: An Opera In Flatland by Steve Tomasula -Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want To Come: One introvert's year of saying yes by Jessica Pan -Whores For Gloria by William T. Vollmann -The Notebooks by Jean-Michel Basquiat, Larry Walsh (editor) -L'Astragale by Albertine Sarrazin -The Decay Of Lying and other essays by Oscar Wilde -The Immortal Life Of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot -Open Throat by Henry Hoke -Prisoner Of Love by Jean Genet -The Fifth Wound by Aurora Mattia -The Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx -My Friend Anna: The true story of a fake heiress by Rachel DeLoache Williams -Mammother by Zachary Schomburg -Building The Commune: Radical democracy in Venezuela by George Cicarello-Maher -Blackouts by Justin Torres -Cheapjack by Philip Allingham -Near To The Wild Heart by Clarice Lispector -The Trayvon Generation by Elizabeth Alexander -Skye Papers by Jamika Ajalon -Exercises In Style by Raymon Queneau -Tender Buttons by Gertrude Stein -The Feather Thief: Beauty, Obsession, and the Natural History Heist of the Century by Kirk Wallace Johnson

~Some number factoids~ I read 46 fiction and 46 nonfiction. One book, The Fifth Wound by Aurora Mattia, is fictionalized/embellished autobiography, so it could go half in each category if we wanted to do that, but I put it in the fiction category. I tried to read as large a variety of nonfiction subjects/genres as I could. A lot of the nonfiction I read has overlapping subjects, so I’ve chosen to sort by the one that seems the most overarching. By subject, I read: 5 art history/criticism, 5 biographies, 1 black studies, 1 drug memoir, 2 essay collections, 2 history, 2 Latin American studies, 4 literary criticism, 1 music history, 2 mythology/religion, 1 nature, 4 political science, 2 psychology, 5 queer studies, 2 science, 1 sociology, 1 travel, 2 true crime, 3 urban planning. I also read more queer books in general (fiction and nonfiction) than I have in years, coming in at 20 books.

The rest of my commentary and thoughts under a cut because it's fairly long

Here’s a photo of all the books I read that I own a physical copy of (minus Closer by Dennis Cooper which a friend is borrowing):

~Superlatives and Thoughts~

I read so many books this year I’m going to do a runner-up for each superlative category.

Favorite book: This is such a hard question this year. I think I gave out more five-star ratings on Goodreads this year than I ever have before. The books that got 5 stars from me this year were A Simple Story: The Last Malambo by Leila Guerriero, Capitalist Realism by Mark Fisher, The Emerald Mile by Kevin Fedarko, The Mustache by Emmanuel Carriere, The Passion According to GH by Clarice Lispector, trans girl suicide museum by Hannah Baer, The Fifth Wound by Aurora Mattia, Mammother by Zachary Schomburg, and Blackouts by Justin Torres. But I think my favorite book of the year was The Fifth Wound by Aurora Mattia. It is an embellished, fictionalized biography of the author’s life, chronicling a breakup that occurred just before she began her transition, and then a variety of emotional events afterward and her renewal of a connection with that person after a number of years had passed. The writing style is beautiful, extremely decadent, and sits in a sort of venn diagram of poetry, theory, fantasy and biography. My coworker who recommended this book to me said no one she’d recommended it to had finished it because they found it so weird. I read the first 14 pages very slowly because I didn’t exactly know what the book was doing, but I quickly fell completely in love with the imagery and the formatting style and the literary and religious references that have been worked into the book both as touchstones for biography and as vehicles for fantasy. There is a video I remember first seeing years ago, in which a beautiful pinkish corn snake slithers along a hoop that is part of a hanging mobile made of driftwood and macrame and white beads and prism crystals. This was the image that was in the back of my head the entire time I was reading The Fifth Wound, because it matched the decadence and the strangeness and the crystalline beauty of the language and visuals in the book. It is a pretty intense book, absolutely packed with images and emotion and ideas and preserved vignettes where reality and fantasy and theory overlap. It’s one of those books that’s hard to describe because it’s so full. It’s dense not in that the words or ideas are hard to understand, but in that it’s overflowing with imagery and feelings, and it feels like an overflowing treasure chest. Runner-up:The Mustache by Emmanuel Carriere. However, this book wins for a different superlative, so I’ve written more about it there.

Least favorite book: Querelle de Roberval by Kevin Lambert. I wrote a whole long review of it. In summary, Lambert’s book takes its name from Querelle de Brest, a novel by Jean Genet, and is apparently meant to be an homage to Genet’s work. Unfortunately, Lambert seems to misunderstand or ignore all the important aspects of Genet’s work that make it so compelling, and instead twists certain motifs Genet uses as symbols of love or transcendence into meaningless or negative connotations. He also attempts to use Genet’s mechanic of inserting the author into the narrative and allowing the author to have questionable or conflicting morals in order to emphasize certain aspects of the characters or narrative, except he does so too late in the game and ends up just completely undermining everything he writes. This book made me feel insulted on behalf of Jean Genet and all the philosophical thought he put into his work. Runner-up: What We See When We Read by Peter Mendelsund. This graphic designer claims that when people read they don’t actually imagine what characters look like and can’t conjure up an image in their head when asked something like “What does Jane Eyre look like to you?” Unfortunately, there’s nothing scientific in the book to back this up and it’s mostly “I” statements, so it’s more like “What Peter Mendelsund Sees (Or Doesn’t See) When He Reads”. It’s written in what seems to be an attempt to mimic Marshall McLuhan’s style in The Medium Is The Massage, but it isn’t done very well. I spent most of my time reading this book thinking This does not reflect my experience when I read novels so I think really it’s just a bad book written by someone who maybe has some level of aphantasia or maybe is a visual but not literary person, and who assumes everyone else experiences the same thing when they read. (Another runner-up would be The Hero With A Thousand Faces by Joseph Campbell, but I think that’s a given because it’s an awful piece of revisionist, racist trash, so I won’t write a whole thing about it. I can if someone wants me to.)

Most surprising/unexpected book: The Mustache by Emmanuel Carriere. This book absolutely wins for most surprising. However, I don’t want to say too much about it because the biggest surprise is the end. It was the most shocking, most unexpected and bizarre endings to a novel I’ve read in a long time, and I absolutely loved it. It was weird from the start and it just kept getting weirder. The unnamed narrator decides, as a joke, to shave off the moustache he’s had for his entire adult life. When his wife doesn’t react, he assumes that she’s escalating their already-established tradition of little pranks between each other. But then their mutual friends say nothing about the change, and neither do his coworkers, and he starts spiral into confusion and paranoia. I don’t want to spoil anything else because this book absolutely blew me away with its weirdness and its existential dread and anyone who likes weird books should read it. Runner-up: Morvern Callar by Alan Warner. I don’t even know what compelled me to open this book at work, but I’m glad I did. The book opens on Christmas, where the main character, Morvern, discovers her boyfriend dead by suicide on the kitchen floor of their flat. Instead of calling the police or her family, she takes a shower, gets her things and leaves for work. Her narrative style is strange, simultaneously very detached and extremely emotional, but emotional in an abstract way, in which descriptions and words come out stilted or strangely constructed. The book becomes a narrative of Morvern’s attempts to find solitude and happiness, from the wilderness of Scotland to late night raves and beaches in an unnamed Mediterranean city. The entire book is scaffolded by a built-in playlist. Morvern’s narrative is punctuated throughout by accounts of exactly what she’s listening to on her Walkman. The narrative style and the playlist and the bizarre behavior of the main character were not at all what I was expecting when I opened the book, but I read the entire book in about 3 hours and I was captivated the whole time. If you like the Trainspotting series of books, I would recommend this one for sure.

Most fun book: The Emerald Mile by Kevin Fedarko. This book was amazing. It was like reading an adventure novel and a thriller and a book on conservationism all wrapped into one and it was clearly very passionately written and it was a blast. I picked it up because I was pricing it at work and I read the captions on one of the photo inserts, which intrigued me, so I read the first page, and then I couldn’t stop. The two main narratives in the book are the history of the Grand Canyon (more specifically the damming of the Colorado River) and the story of a Grand Canyon river guide called Kenton Grua, who decided with two of his river guide friends to break the world record for fastest boat ride down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. The book is thoroughly researched, and reaches back to the first written record of the canyon, then charts the history of the canyon and the river up to 1983 when Grua made his attempt to race down the river, and then the aftermath and what has happened to everyone in the years since. All of the historical figures as well as the “current” figures of 1983 come to life, and are passionately portrayed. It’s a genuine adventure of a book, and I highly recommend it. Runner-up: Summer Fun by Jeanne Thornton. It asks “What if Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys was actually a trans woman?” Actually, that’s not quite it. It asks “What if a trans woman living in poverty in southwest America believed to an almost spiritual level that Brian Wilson was a trans woman?” The main character and narrator, Gala, is convinced that the lead singer of her favorite band, the Get Happies, (a fictional but fairly obvious parallel to the Beach Boys) is a trans woman. Half the book is her writing out her version of the singer’s life history, and the other half is her life working at a hostel in Truth Or Consequences, New Mexico, where she meets a woman who forces her out of her comfort zone and encourages her to face certain aspects of her self and identity and her connection with others. It’s a weird novel, and definitely not for everyone, but it’s fun. I was reading it on the train home and I was so into it that I missed my stop and had to get off at the next station and wait 20 minutes for the train going back the other way.

Book that taught me the most: Breath: The new science of a lost art by James Nestor. In it, Nestor explores why humans as a general population are so bad at breathing properly. He interviews scientists and alternative/traditional health experts, archaeologists, historians and religious scholars. He uses himself as a guinea pig to experiment with different breathing techniques from ancient meditation styles to essentially overdosing on oxygen in a lab-controlled environment to literally plugging his nose shut to only mouth-breathe for two weeks (and then vice-versa with nose breathing). It was interesting to see a bunch of different theories a laid out together regarding what kind of breathing is best, as well as various theories on the history of human physiology and why breathing is hard. Some of it is scientific, some pseudoscience, some just ancient meditation techniques, but he takes a crack at them all. What was kind of cool is that he tries every theory and experiment with equal enthusiasm and doesn’t really seem to favor any one method. Since he’s experimenting on himself, a lot of it is about the effects the experiments had on him specifically and his experiences with different types of breathing. His major emphasis/takeaway is that focusing on breathing and learning to change the ways in which we breathe will be beneficial in the long run (and that we should all breath through our noses more). While I don’t think changing how you breathe is a cure-all (some of the pseudoscience he looks at in this book claims so) I certainly agree that learning how to breath better is a positive goal. Runner-up: The Sober Truth by Lance Dodes. I say runner-up because a lot of the content of the book is things that I had sort of vague assumptions about based on my knowledge of addiction and AA and mental illness in general. But Dodes put into words and illustrated with numbers and anecdotes and case studies what I just kind of had a vague feeling about. It was cool to see AA so thoroughly debunked by an actual psychiatrist and in such a methodical way, since my skepticism about it has mostly been based on the experiences of people I know in real life, anecdotes I’ve read online, or musicians/writers/etc I’m a fan of that went through it and were negatively affected.

Most interesting/thought provoking book: Mammother by Zachary Schomburg. The biggest reason this book was so interesting is because the little world in which it exists is so strange and yet so utterly complete. In a town called Pie Time (where birds don’t exist and the main form of work is at the beer-and-cigarettes factory) a young boy called Mano who has been living his childhood as a girl decides that he is now a man and that it’s time for him to grow up. As this happens, the town is struck by an affliction called God’s Finger. People die seemingly out of nowhere, from a hole in their chest, and some object comes out of the hole. Mano collects the things that come out of these holes, and literally holds them in order to love them, but the more he collects, the bigger he becomes as he adds objects to his body. A capitalist business called XO shows up, trying to convince the people of Pie Time that they can protect themselves from God’s Finger with a number of enterprises, and starts to slowly take over the town. But Mano doesn’t believe death is something that should be run from. This book is so pretty, and the symbolism/metaphors, even when obvious, feel as though they belong organically in the world. A quote on the back of the book says it is “as nearly complete a world as can be”, and I think that’s a very accurate description. The story is interesting, the characters are compelling, and the magical realist world in which the story exists is fascinating. Runner up: trans girl suicide museum by Hannah Baer. This is a series of essays taken (for the most part) from Baer’s blog posts. They span a chunk of time in which she writes her thoughts and musings on her experience transition and transgender existence in general. It is mostly a series of pieces reflecting on “early” stages of transition. But I thought it was really cool to see an intellectual and somewhat philosophical take on transition, written by someone who has only been publicly out for a few years, and therefore is looking at certain experiences with a fresh gaze. As the title suggests, a lot of the book is a bit sad, but it’s not all doom and gloom. A lot of the emphasis is on the important of community when it comes to the experience of starting to transition and the first few years, and the importance of community on the trans experience in general. I really liked reading Hannah Baer’s thoughts as a queer intellectual who was writing about this stuff as she experienced it (or not too long after) rather than writing about the experience of early transition years and years down the line. It meant the writing was very sharp and the emotion was clear and not clouded by nostalgia.

Other thoughts/commentary on books I don’t have superlatives for:

I’m glad my first (full) book read in 2023 was A Simple Story: The Last Malambo by Leila Guierrero. It’s a small, compact gem of a book that follows the winner of an Argentinian dance competition. The Malambo is a traditional dance, and the competition is very fierce, and once someone wins, they can never compete again. The author follows the runner-up of the previous year, who has come to compete again. It paints a vivid picture of the history of the dance, the culture of the competition, and the character of the dancer the author has chosen to follow. It’s very narrowly focused, which makes it really compelling.

The Hearing Trumpet by Leonora Carrington could have easily won for most fun or most interesting book. Carrington was a surrealist writer and painter (and was in a relationship with Max Ernst until she was institutionalized and he was deported by the Nazis). In The Hearing Trumpet, an elderly woman called Marian is forced by her family to go live in an old ladies’ home. The first strange thing about the place is that all of the little cabins each woman lives in is shaped like some odd object, like an iron, or ice cream, or a rabbit. The other old women at the institution are a mixed bag, and the warden of the place is hostile. Marian starts to suspect that there are secrets, and even witchcraft involved, and she and a few of the other ladies start to try and unravel the occult mysteries hidden in the grounds of the home. The whole book is fun and strange, and the ending is an extremely entertaining display of feminist occult surrealism.

Sacred Sex: Erotica writings from the religions of the world by Robert Bates was a book I had to read for research for my debunking of Withdrawn Traces. It was really very interesting, but it was also hilarious to read because maybe 5% of any of the texts included were actually erotic. It should have been called “romantic writings from the religions of the world” because so little of the writing had anything to do with sex, even in a more metaphorical sense.

Every time I read Yukio Mishima I’m reminded how much I love his style. The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea almost usurped The Temple of the Golden Pavilion as my favorite Mishima novel. I’m fascinated with the way that Mishima uses his characters to explore the circumstance of having very intense feelings or reactions towards something and simultaneously wanting to experience that, while also wanting to have complete control and not feel them at all. There’s a scene in this novel where Noboru and his friends brutally kill and dissect a cat; it’s an intense and vividly rendered scene, made all the more intense by Noboru desperately conflicted between feeling affected by the killing and wanting to force himself to feel nothing. The amazing subtle theme running through the book is the difference between Noboru’s intense emotions and his desire/struggle to control them and subdue them versus Ryuji’s more subtle emotion that grows through the book despite his natural reserve. I love endings like the one in this book, where it “cuts to black” and you don’t actually see the final act, it’s simply implied.

In 2016 or 2017, I ran lights for a showcase for the drama department at UPS (I can’t remember now what it was) that included a bunch of scenes from various plays. I remember a segment from Hir by Taylor Mac, and a scene from The Aliens by Annie Baker. In the scene that I saw, one of the characters describes how when he was a boy, he couldn’t stop saying the word ladder, and the monologue culminates in a full paragraph that is just the word “ladder.” I can’t remember who was acting in the one that I saw at UPS, but that monologue blew me away, the way that one word repeated 127 conveyed so much. This year a collection of Annie Baker’s plays came in at work so I sat down and read the whole play and it was just incredible. I’d love to see the full play live, it’s absolutely captivating.

Narrow Rooms by James Purdy was a total diamond in the rough. It takes place in Appalachia, in perhaps the 1950s although it’s somewhat hard to tell. It follows the strange gay entanglement between four adult men in their 20s, who have known each other all their lives. It traces threads of bizarre codependency, and the lines crossed between love and hate. The main character, Sidney, has just returned home after serving a sentence for manslaughter. On his return, he finds that an old lover has been rendered disabled in an accident, and that an old school rival/object of obsession has been waiting for him. This rival, nicknamed “The Renderer” because of an old family occupation, has been watching Sidney all their lives. Both of them hate the other, but know that they’re destined to meet in some way. Caught in the middle of their strange relationship are Gareth, Sidney’s now-disabled former lover, and Brian, a young man who thinks he’s in love with The Renderer. The writing style took me some time to get used to, as it is written as though by someone who has taught themselves, or has only had basic classes on fiction writing. But the plot itself is so strange and the characters are so stilted in their own internality that it actually fits really well. Like The Mustache, this book had one of the strangest, most intensely visceral and shocking endings I’ve read in a while. It was also “one that got away.” I read it at work, then put it on my staff picks shelf, and only realized after someone else bought it that I should have kept it for myself.

The Passion According to G.H. by Clarice Lispector blew my mind. I really don’t want to spoil any of it, but I highly encourage anyone who hasn’t read it to do. The build in tension is perfect and last 30 pages are just incredible. Lispector’s style is so unique and so beautiful and tosses out huge existential questions like it’s nothing, and I love her work so much.

Moscow To The End Of The Line by Venedikt Erofeev was another really unexpected book. It’s extremely Russian (obviously) and really fun until suddenly it isn’t. The main character, a drunkard, gets on a train from Moscow to Petushki, the town at the end of the line (hence the title), in order to see his lover. On the way, he befriends the other people in his train car and they all steadily get drunker and drunker, until he falls asleep and misses his stop. Very Russian, somewhat strange, and I was surprised that it was written in the late 60s and not the 30s.

Dr. Rat by William Kotzwinkle was what I expected. Weird in a goofy way, a bit silly even when it’s serious, and rather heavy-handed satire. The titular Dr Rat is a rat who has spent his whole life in a laboratory and has gone insane. The other animals who are being tested on want to escape, but he’s convinced that all the testing is for the good of science and wants to thwart their rebellion. Unfortunately, all the other animals who are victims of human cruelty/callousness/invasion/deforestation/etc around the world are also planning to rebel, connection with each other through a sort of psychic television network. It’s a very heavy-handed environmentalist/anti-animal cruelty metaphor and general societal satire, but it’s silly and fun too.

Confessions Of A Part-Time Lady by Minette is a self-published, nearly impossible to find book that came into my work. It’s self-printed and bound, and was published in the 70s. It is the autobiographical narrative of a trans woman who did drag and burlesque and theatre work all across the midwest, as well as New York and San Francisco, from the 1930s up to the late 60s. It was originally a series of interviews by the two editors, who published it in narrative form, and it includes photos from Minette’s personal collection. It’s an amazing story, and a glimpse into a really unique time period of gender performance and queer life. She even mentions Sylvia Rivera, specifically when talking about gay activism. She talks about how the original group of the Gay Liberation Front was an eclectic mix of all sorts of people of all sexualities and genders and expressions. Then when the Gay Activists Alliance “took over”, they started pushing out people who were queer in a more transgressive or unusual way and there was more encouragement on being more heteronormative. She mentions Sylvia Rivera and Marsha P Johnson, saying “I remember Sylvia Rivera who founded STAR – Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries. She was always trying to say things – the same kinds of things Marsha P Johnson says in a sweeter way – and they treated her like garbage. If that’s what ‘order’ is, haven’t we had enough?”

Whores For Gloria by William T Vollmann was exactly as amazing as I thought it would be. I love Vollmann’s style, because you can tell that even though the characters he’s writing about are characters, they’re absolutely based on people that he met or saw or spoke to in real life. The main character, Jimmy, is searching for his former lover, Gloria, who has either died or left him (it is unclear for most of the novel). He begins to use tokens bought from sex workers (hair, clothes, etc) to attempt to conjure her into reality, and when that doesn’t work, he pays them to tell him stories from their lives, and through their lives he tries to conjure Gloria. This novel’s ending had extremely similar vibes to the ending of Moscow To The End Of The Line.

Prisoner Of Love by Jean Genet was a lot to take in. It was weird reading it at this moment in time, and completely unplanned. It’s just that I have only a few more books to read before I’ve made my way through all Genet’s works that have been translated into English, and it was next on the list. Most of the book focuses on Genet’s time spent in Palestine in the 70s and his short return in the 80s. He also discusses the time he spent with the Black Panthers in the US, although it’s not the main subject of the book. Viewing Palestine from the point of view of Genet’s weird philosophical and moral worldview was really interesting, because what he chooses to spend time looking at or talking about is probably not what most would focus on, and because even his most political discussions are tinged with the uniquely Genet-style spirituality (if you can call it that? I don’t know what to call it) that is so much the exact opposite of objective. It’s definitely not a book about Palestine I would recommend reading without also having a grasp of Genet’s style of looking at the world and his various obsessions and preoccupations, because they really do inform a lot of his commentary. It was also written 15 years after his first trip to Palestine, partly from memory and partly from journal entries/notes, which gives it a sort of weirdly dreamlike quality much like his novels.

Blackouts by Justin Torres was so amazing! It blends real life and fiction together so well that I didn’t even realize that most of the people he references in the novel are real historical figures until he mentioned Ben Reitman, who I recognized as the Chicago King Of The Hobos and Emma Goldman’s lover. The book follows an unnamed narrator who has come to a hotel or apartment in the southwest in order to care for a dying elderly man called Juan Gay. Juan has a book called Sex Variants, a study of homosexuality from the 1940s which has been censored and blacked out. Back and forth, the narrator and Juan trade stories. The narrator tells his life story up until the present, including his first meeting with Juan in a mental hospital as a teenager. In turn, Juan tells the story of the Sex Variants book and its creator, Jan Gay (Ben Reitman’s real life daughter). The book explores the reliability of narrative, the power of collecting and documenting life stories, and of removing or changing things in order to create new or different narratives.

Again, Clarice Lispector rocking my world! Generally I can read a 200-ish page novel in somewhere between 2 and 4 hours depending on the content/writing style. Near To The Wild Heart took me 9 hours to read because I kept wanting to stop and reread entire paragraphs because they were so interesting or pretty or philosophical. The story focuses on Joana, whose strange way of looking at the world and going through life makes everyone sort of wary of her. This book is so layered I don’t really know how to describe it. So much of it is philosophical or existential musings through the vehicle of Joana. Unsurprisingly, it’s a beautiful book and I highly recommend it.

I’m just going to copy/paste my Goodreads review for Skye Papers by Jamika Ajalon: This book had so much potential that just…fell short. I could tell that it was written for an American audience but the way the reader/Skye is “taught” certain British terms and/or slang felt a bit patronizing. The characters were fleshed out and interesting and I liked them a lot but the plot crumbled quickly in the last half of the book Things sped up to a degree that felt strange and unnatural, the book’s pacing was inconsistent throughout. Perhaps that was deliberate considering the reveal at the climax, but if it was, it should have been utilized better. If the inconsistent pacing wasn’t deliberate, then it just made the book feel strange to read. There were moments were I felt like there should have been more fleshing out of certain character relationships. Even with the reveal at the end and the explanation of Pieces’ erratic/avoidant behavior, I wish there had been more fleshing out of the relationship or friendship between her and Skye at the beginning, when Skye first arrives in London. Characters who seemed cool/interesting got glossed over and instead there was a lot more dwelling on Skye walking around or busking or just hanging out. I could have gone without the last 30 or so pages after the big reveal, where Skye went back through everything that happened with the knowledge she (and the reader) had gained. It dragged on and on and at that point I felt like the whole story was so contrived that I just wasn’t interested anymore. A friend who read this book before I did said she thought it was an experimental novel that just hadn’t gone far enough, and I completely agree with her. I think if the style with the film script interludes went further, into printed visuals or more weirdness with the interludes, more experimental style with the main story, or something, it would have been really good. It just didn’t push hard enough.

The Feather Thief by Kirk Wallace Johnson was a fun little true crime novel about a young flautist who broke into a small English natural history museum in 2009 and stole hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of preserved rare bird skins dating back to the 19th century. He was a salmon fly-tying enthusiast and prodigy, and old Victorian fly designs used feathers of rare birds. The book first goes through the heist and the judicial proceedings, then examines the niche culture of Victorian fly-tying enthusiasts and obsessives, and then chronicles the author’s attempts to track down some of the missing birds. It was a quick, easy read, but fun and an unusual subject and I quite enjoyed it.

In 2024 I don’t plan on trying to surpass or even reach this year’s number. I’m going to start off the year reading The Recognitions by William Gaddis, then I’m going to re-read a number of books that I come across at work or in conversation and think Huh, I should reread that one of these days. So far, the books I am currently planning to reread: Sometimes A Great Notion by Ken Kesey, As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner, The People Of Paper by Salvador Plascencia, Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf, The Mustache by Emmanuel Carriere, McGlue by Otessa Moshfegh, Long Day’s Journey Into Night by Eugene O’Neil, Acid Snow by Larry Mitchell, and Nightwood by Djuna Barnes.

#reading list #book list #book roundup #reading list year in review #books #squash rambles #reading year in review #book list roundup

6 notes · View notes

who-is-muses · 4 months

Text

[ I know Munday was yesterday but I'm always slow so shhhh. But I've been thinking about the many similarities my muses have despite being from different sources and even having wildly different personalities. We got the; ]

Will Never Voluntarily Firsthand Reveal Everything About Their Past To Anyone No Matter How Much They Trust Them club (Phil, Jon, Antonio, Bleez, Thaal, Bro'Dee, Rorschach, Selina, Salaak, Athanasios, Habeas, Goswin, Daniel)

the Death Is Homophobic Actually support group (Talbot, Harriet, Bleez, Rorschach, Goswin, Thaal)

the Not Photosensitive As In Epileptic But As In "I Know My Eyes Shine But Stop Aiming Your Fucking Flashlight At My Face" gang (Jon, Thaal, Bleez, Yrra, Goswin, Phil, Talbot)

the I Am Fully Aware Of My Disability And Know How To Help It But I'm Going To Ignore It Out Of Spite committee (Jon, John, Thoth, Thaal, Bro'Dee, Harriet, Salaak, Habeas)

and more!

#They Pull the Strings : OOC #[ more evidence that the blue and yellow bitches won't leave me alone rn ]#[ Bleez is allowed and has done nothing wrong tho ]#[ I want to make an Actual Serious post on this topic but man. idk how to go about that so have this for now djdjsjksks ]

2 notes · View notes

forensicated · 4 months

Text

The Bill - Series 1

This should have been a 12-episode series, however it was cut short to 11 by the industrial dispute between Thames and a technicians' union meaning only 11 were completed by the time it went to air. The final 12th episode was rewritten to become the final episode of series 2 instead (The Chief Supers Party)

The strike led to an alteration in the order of the series airing for everywhere in the UK that wasn't London. In the London 'Thames' offices, members of the management aired episodes 2 and 3 (A Friend In Need and Clutching At Straws) in their usual timeslot themselves after the technicians had walked out. However at the other ITV companies (Tyne Tees/Yorkshire etc), the technicians refused to play any Thames Television programmes so episodes 2 and 3 aired at the end of the series after The Sweet Smell Of Failure.

The 'station' was a former cigarette packing warehouse in Wapping on the corner of Pennington St (the cobbles in the credits) and Artichoke Hill. It was so small that the offices doubled as production offices. Using an actual building to film in; although rare in the 80s; rather than a set allowed a feel of realism because the cameras could follow actors out of the station and onto the street.

Karen England and Paul Page Hansen are the credits 'walking feet'. They appear as extras in the first series.

Jon Iles (Dashwood) and Tony Scannell (Roach) were only supposed to be in 2 episodes. The actors were so well-liked on set that they remained.

Larry Dann was only given the job as Peters the day before filming of series 1 began because the original actor kept forgetting his lines.

Robert Pugh refused to commit to a series so Galloway was recast and John Salthouse joined the cast.

Peter Ellis originally auditioned to be in CID but it was thought that he was too old. However, TPTB wanted to keep him on board so they cast him as Superintendent Brownlow.

Peter Dean's character, Sgt Wilding, was changed to Eric Richard's character, Sgt Cryer. In the time between the pilot and the series, Dean had joined EastEnders and couldn't commit to The Bill.

Taffy undergoes a complete name change from Dai Morgan to Francis Edwards. In Woodentop he gives his first name as 'Dai' which is Dafydd or David.

I know it's the 80's but it's jarring just how many are smoking and the amount of moustaches - and that's just the women!

They're still known as Uniform Oscar as they were in Woodentop.

Chris Ellison appears in 3 episodes (one this series and two the next) as 'Tommy Burnside' rather than his identical twin brother (!!) Frank as he becomes. Tommy is nothing like Frank, he's more a weedy pain in the arse.

Funny Old Business: Cops And Robbers

Sgt Bob Cryer arrives at work at 6.25am to find a prisoner being loaded into an ambulance after an epileptic fit. Right from the off Bob is shown as warm and well respected. He greets everyone the same, be it CID officers or the cleaner or a secretary (both of whom he says hello to by name). Sgt Alec Peters explains that the station doctor passed the man off as drunk only when he was brought in by Reg and 'PC Burton'. The doctor could be in quite some hot water...

Jim is clearly more at ease now, however, it's not stated in canon how long has passed since Woodentop. Best guesstimates are approximately 1 to 2 months given Woodentop mentioned school holidays would start soon in the briefing and Bob says that the kids are about to return to school. Both Dave and June bring up the youth that Jim clipped round the ear, Viv calls him 'The New Boy', Jim still refers to Hendon exercises as his experience of riots and rough arrests and he is classed as a new face at a cafe uniform frequent when on the beat. Having said all this, Jim makes his first arrest in this episode so it may be even less time!

Jim and June sort of flirt over how much sugar Jim has in his tea. He's a thoroughbred don't you know 😉. Taffy tells JimJim that he reckons June rather fancies him. Jim is not impressed and tells Taffy off for being crude. He insists he doesn't fancy June, that she's still getting over being messed around by Dave and he'd never get involved with anyone from the job. (*cough*)

The series starts to set Taffy up as a bit of a grump from episode 1, a far cry from the "Cheeky Leeky" he was in Woodentop. He has good reason here though as the National Front has been given the go-ahead to march through Sun Hill which means all leave has now been cancelled until further notice. It was due to be June's first weekend off in months so she's doubly unimpressed at JimJim's reasoning that it's the price of democracy. Things have not improved at all between Dave and June. There is however another female PC (not just the unnamed extra Alec 'coorrrrr'ed' at) as Viv has arrived!

Roy has learned from his mistakes from Woodentop and is attending a uniform briefing. He finds it absolutely riveting.

Roy tells uniform to keep an eye out for properties with new double glazing as CID believes they're being targeted in burglaries. He warns them not to touch anything but to remain on scene until CID arrives if they come across one. Bob and Roy have more of a jovial frenemy relationship than Jack and the old Roy did.

"Sometimes Roy, only sometimes, you can be almost human!" Bob is amused when he takes a burglary to Roy that matches the MO that he'd asked uniform to look out for. Roy actually thanks him - now there's a first! Reg takes a man through to see Roy. Later Reg complains to June that Bob is a nosy old git - oh the irony! 😂 "A good Sgt knows everything that goes on in his nick."

Three months of work are paying off for Roy - a team of the same lads from the same company carried out work replacing the windows and doors of a large number of recently burgled properties. The firms managing director tells Roy that the keys are taped to the new doors to avoid getting mixed up - they could easily be taken and made copies of and it would explain why there are no other signs of entry. They wait 4-6 months and then return to the property, letting themselves in by the front door.

Uncle Bob is not too happy to find Jim Jim and Taffy having a water fight in the men's loos after a messy arrest. "Bleedin' Woodentops." he sighs as he watches them go.

June claims Bob won't let her and Viv patrol when the National Front are marching through Sun Hill, claiming that he's such an old mother hen sometimes (again - the irony!). Viv asks her what she thinks of Jim. She reckons he's a bit tasty but they're interrupted by a man reporting that he'd had his pockets picked before June can reply.

Dave is guarding the door of the burgled house, waiting for Roy to arrive. There's a kid who keeps asking them what they're doing. At first they ignore him but Dave tells him in such a quiet and indirect way that he's 'looking for fingerprints' it does make you wonder whether he's just a local kid they allowed to watch 😂 Especially when Roy literally lifts the kid up and moves him aside and they all ignore him for the rest of the scene.

DS Tommy Burnside appears for the first of his three appearances before he becomes DI Frank Burnside in series 4. There's no love lost at all between Tommy and Bob. Tommy insists he'll wait for Roy to return. Unfortunately, Jim's first arrest is a snout of Tommy's and he wants Roy to let him off. Bob tells him it's too late - he's already been nicked and charged. "That's what I like to see, Bob. Co-operation." "Bloody Superstars!"

Roy tells Tommy it's too late as his snout is already in the system. Tommy bluffs that his governor - an old acquaintance of Roy's - won't be happy. Roy pulls him up on it immediately and throws him out of the office. Tommy begs him for a favour and even says please. He explains he's due a result from the snout and the arrest compromises it. He promises they can have him back within a few days. Roy allows him to be released as long as he remains Sun Hill's body. He talks Bob into bailing him for a couple of days because 'he owes him one as does Jim. (In Woodentop this was Jack Wilding rather than Bob who wasn't in the episode). He tells him to bail him whilst 'inquiries are made about the property found in his possession'. "You've got all the answers."

Uniform have been trying to catch a group of pickpocketers for quite some time and so far remain unlucky. Bob and Tom are shocked when a well-to-do man arrives having made a citizens arrest of another man who has badly bleeding fingers. The doctor is called for and it transpires that the prisoner from that morning has passed. The well-to-do man accuses the other of picking his pocket and shows the officers some fish hooks sewn into the lining of his jacket that the man had snagged his fingers on, making them bleed profusely.

Charles and the doctor are old friends and he tries to reassure him that it wasn't his fault. He tells the doctor that a few years ago a woman died because of his actions - or rather his inaction. He reminds him that they are human and that everyone makes mistakes and they just have to find a way to live with it. From what he understands 99% of doctors would have made the same diagnosis with the evidence at hand. The doctor blames himself, claiming it's unforgivable as he classifies it as outright neglect.

Outside in the car, Tommy shows more of a Frank reaction to his snout after he'd had to grovel and eat humble pie to get him bailed. The snout snivels that it won't happen again and is scared of him. What makes it worse for Tommy is that his snout was caught by "A bleedin' Woodentop who's still on probation!", telling him that it'd make him about as useful to him as a one-legged man in an arse-kicking contest." As they drive by Jim and Taffy, the snout sticks his fingers up at Jim, little knowing he'll be returned to Sun Hill by Tommy to be charged in a couple of days.

2 notes · View notes