#final exam 1981

[fanofspooky]

Purple - Otherworldly, Suffering, Unnatural

[deathwestern]

[mariocki]

Final Exam (1981)

"Why are you so apprehensive? When are you going to realise that the whole world isn't made of psychopaths skulking about?"

"But they are out there. They do exist. People are killed every day for no reason at all. Perfect strangers wake up in the morning and decide, 'Hmm, I think it's a good day to snuff somebody". And these are people who eat at our restaurants with us, use our highways and vote for the President, which probably explains something about him, too. I'm not paranoid. I'm just facing unhappy facts."

[splatteronmywalls]

[moviesandmania]

FINAL EXAM (1981) Reviews of iconic yet quirky slasher

‘Some may pass the test… God help the rest.’ Final Exam is a 1981 American slasher horror film written and directed by Jimmy Huston (My Best Friend is a Vampire) who apparently wanted to go against the norm and decided to feature little on-screen graphic violence. The MPM movie stars Cecile Bagdadi, Joel S. Rice and Ralph Brown. Plot: Late at night, two college students (Carol Capka and Shannon…

[pinksturniolo]

Cinnamon

Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader (AU) Series

Part One: Small Moments

Intro:

Spring 1981

Cambridge, Massachusetts

Harvard University. The only ivy league school in the state.

Acceptance rate: 14%

Graduation rate: 97%

Tolerability of your mostly fake, pretentious peers: 0%

But your best friend Matt?

He makes it worth sticking around.

content warnings for this chapter: angst, mentions of depression and mental health issues

a/n: this is gonna be a long friends to lovers/slow burn series cause i have so much planned for this story so buckle up :) <3

word count: 2,098

April 1981

The clack of your heels on the wooden floor echoes through the conference hall as you make your way to class, the last one of the day. You speed up a little once you glance at the clock on the wall, realizing you were now late. For the third time this week.

It was unlike you to be late at all, but the looming pressure of final exams and the recent concerning phone calls you’ve been receiving from your mother has you more than a little stressed. You were sleeping later than you normally do and waking up with headaches and worry filling your mind.

The weeks seemed to have blurred together since the spring semester started and now with summer rapidly approaching, it was beginning to feel like too much.

The ding of the last bell rings the moment you reach the door of your English class, and you quietly slip inside, Ms. Ellmore’s voice sounding as she begins her opening lesson of the day. No one really notices you’ve even walked in as you take your usual seat in the back corner.

You can’t help but notice the empty seat next to you that’s usually occupied by your best friend. You feel the slight sting of disappointment in your chest that you’ve felt each time you come into class and he’s not here. Which is more often than you would like to admit.

English Literary Forms was the only class you had with him this year and being that it was the last class of the day, you patiently waited and endured the whole day until you could see him, savoring the small moments you two could share together. You occasionally saw him during lunch, or during assembly once a week that was held by the student body president. But lately he has been absent more than usual and when he was here, you saw him even less than last year.

Last year, you had two classes together. Both of which were back-to-back periods. He would walk with you once Chemistry was finished, taking the long way just so you both could talk more before being confined into the stuffy room of the next period, English Lit class, and the strict disposition of Mr. Lawrence preventing you two from any ongoing form of verbal communication.

It was these moments you held onto that kept you sane.

Fighting to contain your laughter while he makes funny faces at you from across the assembly hall, mocking Amanda’s uptight mannerisms as she rattles on about the recent incident of plagiarism and student policies.

Swapping your apple with his orange at lunch while he sits next to you, your textbooks open on the table since you insisted you help each other study on your short break. He always rolled his eyes at your persistent need to use every bit of free time dedicated to your studies but he never turned down the opportunity to help you.

Strolling through the hallways of school, often being passed up by students who were practically running to get to the next class, but you two paid no mind, lost in conversation about anything and everything. Sometimes, he would walk so close to you that his shoulder would brush yours, and you would find yourself wishing you weren’t wearing a sweater so you could feel the contact against your bare skin, even if he was also wrapped up in the standard crimson of the school letterman.

These moments with your best friend are something you cherished, memories to hold onto when you felt yourself slipping into the darkness again. Ever since you met him at the beginning of freshman year, you felt comfortable with him, happy even, an emotion you didn’t find yourself experiencing too often.

Sure, you had other “friends.” A handful of other students you were cordial with, that you could occasionally engage in meaningless conversation. But it just wasn’t the same. Aside from your roommate, he was the only person at this school you actually enjoyed spending time with. You had always been a shy person, introverted and uninterested in most kids your age. You were basically isolated in high school, hyper focused on your studies so you could earn a scholarship to an ivy league university.

But he kept you on your toes, bringing out a side of you that was a little more relaxed. It was easy to talk to him about personal issues or familial problems. He was easy to trust.

You hear the teacher call your name, breaking you out of your thoughts. You hadn’t realized it was discussion time, and she had asked a question regarding the chapter of Wuthering Heights the class was currently reading.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you ask her, and a few students snicker under their breath, some even giving you looks. Ms. Ellmore smiles, her cheerful demeanor unwavering even despite your clear lack of attention.

She repeats her question, and you answer with perfect accuracy and thoughtfulness, focusing your attention back to the literature instead of the person you can’t seem to stop thinking about.

❧🝮✿🝮✿❧

The hazy pink of the setting sun fills the sky as you walk towards your dorm, your book bag bouncing on your hip from the lazy way it’s slung over your shoulder. You had spent a couple hours in the library after last period, reading until your eyes grew heavy. It’s usually how you spent your evenings, especially when you felt sad or alone. But even then, the things that bring you joy can be uninteresting at times.

The thing about depression is that it always comes in waves. For you, at least. One week you could be a little more excited to go to your classes, to read your favorite book at the wicker desk in the library, to go for morning walks with Celine your roommate, making fun of the jocks that practice on the lacrosse field, their misogynism practically vibrating off their sweaty bodies.

It goes away for a while. That dark feeling.

And then the next week, you find it harder to get out of bed, to will your limbs awake and carry you to start the day. Your purpose feels lost, swept away by the incessant feeling of wanting to crawl out of your own skin, to leave a world that you don’t even feel is worth being in. And it can feel that way for the whole month.

Students stare at you in the hallways sometime or in class, and you’re sure you’ve heard them whisper a time or two behind your back. They wonder why you’re so quiet, why you’re always alone, what could have possibly happened in your life for you to be so… weird.

But you could care less. You were at this school for the sole purpose of achieving the one goal you haven’t lost sight of since you decided to pursue it. And your mother didn’t work two jobs while raising three kids to help pay for the remainder of the costs after your scholarship, just for you to quit over some mediocre, trust fund dickheads.

So, you do your best to manage your mental health. Even when your favorite person might not be around to make it easier.

You open the door to your room, Celine already in her bed, hair secured away in her bonnet and her current flavor of the week talking in her ear, the pink rotary phone you both share pressed against her face.

You both exchange a warm smile as you remove your shoes and set them in the rack by the door, walking to your bed across from her.

You sit on the mattress in your checkered skirt and tucked in collared school shirt, watching in amusement as she laughs at what the guy’s saying, twirling the telephone cord around her finger. You're sure she would tell you all about it later.

Before you know it, you’re dozing off, too tired to remember to get up and change your clothes or even brush your teeth and wash your face.

It’s a few hours later when a sharp tapping on your window pulls you from your sleep, and you rub the grogginess from your eyes to see a boy with long brunette hair behind it, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Matt?” you whisper, and slide the bottom of the window up, allowing him to climb through. Luckily, your dorm was on the first floor, and this made it easier for him to sneak in on nights like this.

Before you can say anything else, he’s in your bed next to you in seconds, climbing under your duvet. Every dorm has twin beds, but you and Matt seem to fit on it together perfectly, with a sliver of amount of space still between you.

“Hey kid. How was your day?” He whispers his eyes crinkling from the smile still on his face as he places his hands under his head, facing you on your pillow.

“Bearable.” You reply, taking in his features for a moment before letting your eyes slip close, too tired to keep them open. “Where you been?” You mumble back.

“I was at my parent’s house today… my mom needed me.” He tells you, and you pick up on the somber tone in his voice, your eyes opening slightly to catch the matching expression on his face.

“And how is she doing?” You ask. He looks away from you now, his eyes traveling to the sheets of your bed. “She’s a little better. At least I think she is.” He says.

His parents’ house was in Boston, very close to Harvard, so it was no problem for him to drive over there when needed.

One of the many things about Matt that you had come to know was that he was very family oriented and would see them every chance he got. But he was also anti social, and often used visiting them as an excuse to escape from school. Lately however, his mother had just suffered the loss of her sister and his dad was away for work so much that she needed him more than usual.

“It will take time.” You whisper, and he nods, his next response straying from the subject. “Guess who I saw on the way over here?”

You raise an eyebrow, curious as to what he’s going to say. “Who could be up at this time of night?” You ask.

His face lights up in amusement as he watches you closely for your reaction. “Amanda Ridgefield. She was leaving her dorm room with one of those bonehead lacrosse players.”

You burst into giggles, covering your mouth before you’re any louder and look over at Celine, making sure you didn’t wake her. Matt laughs, tugging on your shoulder so you face him again. “Don’t worry, she can sleep through a car crash.” He chuckles. You know it’s true, remembering the many nights you two had ended up in fits of laughter while she slept soundly.

“What was she doing?” You question. “Come on, don't be naive. I think you know what they're up to.” He responds, a smirk on his face. You roll your eyes. “You know what I mean.”

It was hard to imagine Amanda Ridgefield, student body president and notorious judgmental tyrant, sneaking around to have sex with a lacrosse player. She constantly preached that students should practice abstinence and publicly voiced her opinions that girls who sleep around are nothing but whores.

Literally her words.

“Yeah, she’s no better than the rest of us… it was hilarious to see though.” Matt says, and his eyes skim over your school uniform that sticks out from the top of your blanket. “Fell asleep early again?”

You nod, your eyelids once again slipping shut. “I can’t wait for summer break.”

Your voice is laced with fatigue, your lips parted and calm settling in the soft features of your face as Matt watches you fall asleep.

You barely hear him when he whispers, “Get some rest, kid. I’ll see you soon.”

You forget to ask him if he’s even coming to school tomorrow, if he plans on missing even more days now. If he knows how much it hurts when you don’t see him in the desk next to you in English.

Still, it was nice to see him, even if it was for a moment.

But you let yourself fall back into a deep sleep next to him, and you certainly don’t feel his hand brushing lightly over your face, feathering a stroke over your left cheek before quietly leaving the way he came through your bedroom window.

It's always small moments like this that Matt realizes he appreciates the most.

taglist: <3

@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo @junnniiieee07 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @mattslolita @certifiednatelover @glassesmattsbae @eryismum @sturncakez @wh0resstuff @ribread03 @sturniololoco @75sturn @mattscoquette @h3arts4harry @chrizznmetswife @bambi-slxt

[if you would like to be added/taken off pls reply to this post or comment on my masterlist. and if u weren’t tagged, it wouldn’t let me add you :/ ]

[esqueletosgays]

FINAL EXAM (1981)

Director: Jimmy Huston Cinematography: Darrell Catchart

[fiammee]

Hello, this time around the weekend ask of the day will be:

Which one is your favorite Jon Lord era (the way he looked that you love the most) and why? I'll make it easier for you: if you can't pick just one, you can make a top three out of it <3

I hope this week was good for you, feel free to rant or brag about what happened, I'm curious about it as well <3

Hii dear🫂 glad that youre back here👋🏻👋🏻 ❤️

Well the best highlight of this week would be today, because I am playing with my clarinet pals at a bar!! Well'play a jazz-esque repertoire and I cant wait🥰 apart from that these are my last days of school and in about 19 days I start my final exam🫣😵‍💫

how was yours? Any highlights for you aswell?

Abt your question, I dont follow a strict order, it can change depending on my mood so here we go:

Late 90s era (1993/94/98/99 c.a)

Nicely-kept figure, strong sleeper build and he was ROCKING that salt 'n' pepper hair, not trying to disguise his age and I highly respect him for building his self-esteem. I've also read an interview from 93' where he literally shocked the interviewer for his sudden change in appearence ( he interviewed him firstly back in 1987, imo his darkest era in terms of health and self cure) and he explained that he quit smoking and drinking + started doing phisical activity (king behaviour👑)

70s era (1970 - 1976 c.a)

Friendly big moustache man, lots of hair (slay💅🏻) and beautiful outfits. In these pics you can clearly see his slight eye tilt that I find adorable (very similar to paul mccartney but less prominent) and also the 76' grey sideburns, they're so unique haha

PAL/Whitesnake era (1977 - 1981/82 c.a)

If Jesus Christ wore red-stayned sunglasses, silly jackets and accessories that would be early 80s Jon😅 he had a nice trimmed beard wich suited him very well and he gave both bad bitch/pretty princess vibes, his gaze was always so ominous for no reason lol like he's trying to be tough while in reality he's a cutie patootie

He was a fairy🧚‍♀️

[horrororman]

Final Exam was released on June 5, 1981(US).

#FinalExam

#horror

[female-malice]

Vivian Silver, Missing Israeli-Canadian Peace Activist, Confirmed Killed in Oct 7 Hamas Attack

A founding member of the Israeli-Palestinian Women Wage Peace movement and other peace organizations, Vivian Silver was thought to have been kidnapped by Hamas and taken to the Gaza Strip

Judy Maltz and Haaretz | Nov 14, 2023

Vivian Silver, the veteran peace activist who was believed to be among the approximately 240 Israeli civilians and soldiers kidnapped by Hamas on October 7, is now confirmed to have been killed on the morning of the attack.

More than five weeks after the attacks, forensic experts informed Silver's family on Monday that they had successfully identified her remains.

A longtime member of Be’eri – one of the kibbutzim on the Gaza border invaded by dozens of Hamas terrorists on October 7 – Silver had volunteered for years to help Palestinian residents of Gaza in need of medical aid in Israel.

Silver, who had been widowed several years ago, lived alone in Be’eri. According to her son Yonatan Zeigen, she was last heard from Saturday morning at 11:07 A.M. Before that, she notified friends and family that she was hiding behind a closet in her safe room.

“First we spoke by phone, but then when we heard the gunshots getting closer, we decided it was best to move to text messaging,” he told Haaretz.

In his last message to his mother, Zeigen recounted, he wrote “I’m with you.”

“I feel you,” she responded.

Describing his mother as “a very resilient person,” he relayed that in their last phone conversation, she joked that she had not brought a knife with her into the safe room. “For us, that was funny because my mom was such a pacifist,” he said.

Zeigen, who lives in Tel Aviv, had planned to come with his family to Be’eri for the weekend in order to spend the Jewish holiday of Simchat Torah with his mother. “In our phone conversation, we both said how fortunate it was that I hadn’t come,” he relayed.

Silver’s other son Chen lives in Connecticut.

The 74-year-old, born in Winnipeg, immigrated to Israel 50 years ago with Habonim Dror, a Socialist Zionist youth movement. She was among a group of young North Americans who helped found Kibbutz Gezer in central Israel.

A grandmother of four, Silver moved from Gezer to Be’eri with her family in 1990 and has lived there ever since. She was a founding member of the Israeli-Palestinian Women Wage Peace movement, which was established in late 2014 after the last major war in Gaza.

Just a few days before her kibbutz was overrun by terrorists, Silver had participated in a march that Women Wage Peace holds each year during the Sukkot holiday.

In an interview with Haaretz six years ago, after yet another round of fighting between Israel and Gaza had ended in a truce, she said: “With what’s happening now, I think our message is more timely than ever. The only way to bring all this violence to an end is by negotiating a peace agreement. This cease-fire may last a few weeks or a few months, but until the two sides sit down and talk, it’s not going to be over.”

Silver was particularly active in promoting equality for the Bedouin communities in southern Israel, located not far from her own kibbutz. She served as the co-CEO – together with Amal al-Sana – of The Arab-Jewish Center for Equality, Empowerment and Cooperation, which promotes shared society among Jews and Arabs in Israel and peacemaking efforts between Israelis and Palestinians.

Among her various volunteer activities over the years, Silver was an active member of Road to Recovery, an organization that helps transport patients from Gaza to hospitals in Israel so that they can receive proper medical care.

She had decided to immigrate to Israel after spending her junior year abroad at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. In 1974, a day after she completed her final exams at university in Canada, she boarded a one-way flight back to Israel.

In 1981, Silver founded a department promoting gender equality within the kibbutz movement, and she later served on the board of the New Israel Fund.

In 1998, she was appointed executive director of the Negev Institute for Strategies of Peace and Development in Beersheba. Until the outbreak of the second intifada in the early 2000s, she traveled to Gaza frequently as a participant in various people-to-people peacemaking initiatives.

Colette Avital, a former diplomat and Knesset member who was friends with Silver, said, “Whenever and wherever I met her, she was always enthusiastic about some new idea, embracing some new initiative, always optimistic, always ready to help, always with a smile on her face.”

She continued, “I cannot help but think, to try to imagine what her last thoughts must have been, when she saw the men for whom she fought, the men she helped, come to brutally take away her life. And I cannot stop my tears. For her, for peace."

[scotianostra]

John Cairncross WWII intelligence officer and Soviet spy was born on 25th July 1913 in Lesmahagow, Lanarkshire,.

Cairncross's father was the manager of an ironmonger's and his mother a primary school teacher. John Cairncross was one of a family of eight, many of whom had distinguished careers. All three of his brothers became professors. One was the economist Sir Alexander Kirkland Cairncross (a.k.a. Alec Cairncross). The journalist Frances Cairncross is his niece. Cairncross grew up in Lesmahagow attending the town's Academy, before going on to University of Glasgow; the Sorbonne and Trinity College, Cambridge, where he studied French and German.

it was while at Cambridge Cairncross was introduced to Anthony Blunt and Guy Burgess and soon became a Communist working with the Cambridge Spy Ring. Monitored by Soviet agent Samuel Cahan, he received a short course in espionage tactics before taking the Home Office and Foreign Office exams, receiving the highest scores on both.

Cairncross briefly with Donald Maclean at the Foreign Office before the war, he was assigned to Bletchley Park in 1942/43 but unlike in The Film The Imitation game it is highly unlikely he would have met, let alone blackmailed Alan Turing. He did however pass on cases full of intercepted German messages which he transported in the back seat of his car to the Soviet Embassy. Cairncross joined Secret Intelligence Service MI6 in 1944 and continued working for them until 1951 when sensitive documents in Cairncross’ handwriting were found in Guy Burgess apartment after he and Maclean fled to Russia. He was thus fired from his position in the British Treasury department, although he denied being a spy. He turned to scholarly activities and humanitarian efforts for the United Nations.

In 1964, Sir Anthony Blunt confessed to being a Soviet spy and in return for leniency identified Cairncross as another Soviet agent. When confronted with the evidence, Cairncross admitted to his espionage, explaining that he had not spied for several years, saying that he spied only during World War II, when Russia was a British ally.

Soviet defectors later disputed Cairncross statements about his limited involvement in espionage. They claimed that he had turned over countless reams of information.

Fearful of negative publicity and scandal, the British government hushed up his activities, declining to prosecute him for espionage or to expose him to the public. Cairncross, in fact, remained for a time in his job as with the United Nations Food and Agricultural Organization.

He was finally outed as a spy in 1981 but no charges were ever brought against him. Cairncross spent most of his life in exile but returned home in 1995 dying later the same year after a stroke.

[thevideodungeon]

Final Exam (1981)

The prototypical pseudo-slasher. A group of generic college students are stalked and murdered by... some dude. Less of a story than just a sequence of events featuring a killer so arbitrary that you could easily replace him with a bear without having any major impact on the story.

4/10

[splatteronmywalls]

[quasar1967]

Final Exam (1981)

SOME MAY PASS THE TEST… GOD HELP THE REST.

In a small college in North Carolina, only a select few students are left to take mid terms. But, when a killer strikes, it could be everyone’s final exam.

[schlock-luster-video]

On June 5, 1981, Final Exam debuted in the United States.