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sirleviackerman · 3 years

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hc | flirting with the commanders

genre: headcanon // SFW

warnings: cute shit up ahead

characters: erwin, hanji, levi

a/n: this was requested by a sweet lil anon 🥺 also sshhh... i know levi isn’t technically a commander... we’re gonna let that go for this one

erwin

he jokingly punches you in the shoulder and ends up hitting you way too hard (he’s so intelligent yet clueless it’s hilarious)

attempts to flirt with you with through really bad dad jokes lmao i know y’all saw this coming

they’re only really bad because he gets nervous around you

he’s gonna hit you with some “go ahead feel my shirt- it’s boyfriend material” bs

this man sounds like a goddamn hallmark card it’s embarrassing

it’s kind of cringey but his confidence is hot and his smile is sincere so you let him carry on

he is a true gentleman

a man of chivalry, he holds doors open for you, and will offer you his jacket

loves small gestures that are meaningful- he loves to bring you flowers even if its only a single one

will ask you to dance with him even though he has no rhythm lmao but he’s very open to you teaching him

hanji

flirts with you by talking your ear off about the experiments they’re currently doing

loves to engage in conversation with you more than anyone else!!! they will not hesitate to interrupt someone else or whatever you’re doing just to talk to you

you are the first person they look for in a room full of people because they’re just so excited to see you

asks you to go on long walks with them so they can spend more time with you

makes a lot of intense eye contact with you that’s borderline just staring- and they won’t break even when you notice, they’ll just wink at you instead

showers you in compliments :)))

they notice the smallest details about you and will take note of the smallest things- like when you part your hair differently

will let you know they’re into you with their body language- they toss their head back violently when laughing at your jokes in addition to leaning in closely when you talk to them

they are also super touchy-feely and will look for any excuse to lay a hand on your shoulder or part of your back

levi

is very fucking weird with his first attempts at flirting with you lmao he’s not romantic by nature

he looks at you in short darting glances, constantly shifting his gaze between you and the sky in an attempt to not be obvious

you don’t understand this gesture because he just looks like he’s got something stuck in his eye

he’s kind of jittery around you, and will fidget with his clothes when you’re around (specifically his ascott lmao)

once he’s finally comfortable around you- he’ll slowly start to let his guard down

he’s a man of subtle gestures, he’ll softly rest his hand on your knee when sitting next to you

expect some gentle teasing with him, he will definitely make fun of you for the way you blush when he compliments you

he will be extra sarcastic with you- he thinks it’s endearing

he will not offer you his jacket lmfao bring your own

but he will offer to clean for you, if you’re lucky he’ll cook you dinner too- he’s secretly a sucker for being a trophy husband and taking care of you

u know it’s over when he brushes ur hair behind ur ear

#thanks for the request :)#aot headcanons #snk headcanons #erwin smith #hanji zoe #levi ackerman #sfw #requests #attack on titan #attack on titan headcanons #hange headcanon #erwin headcanon #levi headcanon

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wardens-stew · 3 years

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my review of The Mask Falling - an ode to Arcturus and Paige

For me, the soul of this series has always been the relationship between Paige and Arcturus. It’s apt that this book, the exact middle of the series and as @sshannonauthor describes it, its heart, spends so much time with this pair. The intensity and uniqueness of their bond really emerges as the shining jewel of this series.

It’s clear that Samantha Shannon was intentional about putting Arcturus and Paige on equal footing for the first time in The Mask Falling. She manages the power dynamic between them with such attention and nuance, reversing their roles often and fluidly escaping gender roles. The protector role comes naturally to Arcturus, given his immortal strength and anxiety about losing Paige (it’s even part of the etymology of their names), but for much of The Mask Falling he is her silent shadow, trailing being her and supporting her quietly. They negotiate their differences with refreshing candor and in good faith, their arguments free from ego. “My fear is not your cage,” Arcturus tells her. “I will never ask you to mold yourself to it.” His affection for her is empowering, supportive, never constrictive or diminishing. Paige herself is markedly independent, doing the bulk of her fighting and plotting on her own. When she does seek support from Arcturus, there is no sense of her own strength being diminished, and as often as he rescues her, she turns around and rescues him just as easily.

Indeed, while Arcturus is the immortal god, it is Paige’s power that really shines in this book. Her incredible ingenuity and strength is on full display, getting her out of certain-death scenarios at such a gripping pace I had to cover the pages with my hands to avoid glancing ahead. She couples her incredible powers with extraordinary mental fortitude and an acute conscience; each of her escapades has a satisfying emotional resonance that enlivens her broader quest. Whereas many YA heroines possessed of supernatural power oscillate between immobilizing moral anxiety and moral bankruptcy, Paige tempers her impulsiveness with reason (most of the time) and a powerful motive for justice. It’s clear that she has yet to access the full extent of her abilities, and I’m eager to see what roles she’ll play in the fight to take down Scion.

While previous installments show Arcturus/Warden on various levels of guardedness, The Mask Falling gives us time and space in excess to see his true character. I was struck by his compassion, his hopefulness despite all that he has endured. He is often reassuring and comforting Paige, his optimism clear-eyed and measured. The contrast is especially stark with his persona in The Bone Season, where he appears cold and calculating, morally gray at best. In this book, he is almost unbearably kind, devastatingly sweet and thoughtful. As Paige remarks, “there was nothing terrible before me now.” The almost unimaginable beauty of his character is achieved with such a soft touch; the books are not about Arcturus being the the epitome of goodness - he simply is.

A central thread of tension of this book follows Paige and Arcturus negotiating their relationship and coming to terms with their mutual attraction. Samantha Shannon manages this tension beautifully, carrying it forward constantly with poignant moments of intimacy interspersed with Paige’s honest internal dialogue. The smallest interactions and gestures between them felt so heightened. There are all the classic scenes - getting drunk and saying too much, jealousy spirals about past relationships, almost-kiss scenes interrupted, near-death confessions - all building up to a beautiful and satisfying climax.

Samantha Shannon writes intimacy incredibly well. The love scenes feel specific to the characters, managing to be both meaningful and erotic. Romances between an immortal man and a mortal woman in particular tend to translate the man’s primal instincts and extreme physical strength into a voracious sexual appetite that leaves little room for gentleness and consideration. Arcturus really breaks the mold in this respect. He is so reverent, so sincere, so generous with Paige in a way few male characters with female partners approximate. Rather than relying on an imbalance of power in order to convey eroticism, the sexiness of Arcturus and Paige’s dynamic derives from the equality of their relationship. It’s so difficult to create a heterosexual romance unsullied by patriarchy, and Samantha Shannon gets close to that here.

I wonder if it is Arcturus’ immortal nature that makes him such a uniquely engaging character. Samantha Shannon really commits to that aspect of him - he’s not just a hot teenager. The best word I can think of to describe him is mature. He is so beyond the petty concerns of YA love interests, so ego-less and self-reliant. One of my favorite ways he diverges from human men - and traditional male love interests - is his lack of fixation on Paige’s physical appearance. This book has several of the classic moments that would typically elicit a remark or a look from the love interest on the heroine’s appearance, often framed as a cute romantic moment. Yet when Paige dresses up, or dyes her hair - even when she asks him outright - he never comments on the way she looks. “A human might have whispered in my ear, told me I was beautiful or perfect, but not him.” I love that. I’ve never found that lustful, almost predatory demeanor in male love interests nearly as sexy as the author would like it to be, and it always rubs me the wrong way when the man telling the woman she’s beautiful is framed as the epitome of romance. It strikes me as a very lazy way to convey attraction, for one thing, and it reeks of benevolent sexism. Arcturus never plays into those supposedly romantic tropes of disparaging other women in favor of the heroine or being selectively kind. His love for Paige is so pure.

I continue to be impressed by the sheer scale of worldbuilding in this series. Many books attempt to create fictional tyrannical governments, but few succeed in building one as convincing and elaborate as Scion. The Mask Falling peels back even more layers of this complex world, bringing to fruition seeds planted in the very first book. Although the basic plot leans on some familiar tropes, Samantha Shannon always manages to add an additional twist of the screw. The complexity of this series is truly extraordinary, drawing on etymology and mythology, dropping mysteries and complicating loyalties with incredible dexterity.

SPOILERS!!!!! --> I am still struggling with Arcturus’s possession and Paige’s failure to connect the dots and realize the reality of his situation. I see Samantha Shannon has pointed out on Twitter that Paige’s trauma and illness may have affected her judgment and decision-making. She says, “There's a particular scene where Paige reacts to an event in a way that is so deeply rooted in her PTSD and past experiences.” (I assume this is the scene she’s referring to.) I think that’s fair - Paige has been so inundated with the Rephaite aversion to humans that it’s almost as if she only needed one piece of evidence to confirm her doubts and destroy her trust in Arcturus. And it’s not as if she just takes it at face value, either - she does question him and try to convince him otherwise. But I still can’t help feeling that it’s a stretch. The Mask Falling makes Arcturus’ character so clear that the prospect that he would be loyal to Nashira the whole time is just ludicrous. Not to mention the fact that Paige somehow overlooked the obvious signs that he was being possessed. His eyes were such a dead giveaway - Paige had already seen that same thing happen when she possessed him! And when he moved to strike her and then suddenly stopped and his eyes flared - come on! That’s a classic mind-control trope. Paige is usually so perceptive, and they had built such a strong foundation… it feels unrealistic that she wouldn’t have connected the dots just because she hadn’t thought there could be another dreamwalker.

If I had to find fault with this book, and it is difficult, I would say that it leans a little too heavily on some YA dystopian fantasy tropes towards the end - the mind-controlled love interest, for example, instantly made me think of Divergent, The Hunger Games, The Mortal Instruments, etc. Likewise, the forced memory loss is a fairly common fantasy trope that tends to be really frustrating to read. I have faith that Samantha Shannon will keep it from sliding into those tropes, and of course there remains so much mystery still to be untangled from those final 100 pages. /END SPOILERS :)

This was the kind of book that captivated me immediately, left me lying awake at night and had me eating energy bars for dinner so I could keep reading. It was such a visceral, immersive experience, the kind where returning to the physical reality is almost physically disorienting. It’s been two days since I finished it and I’m still clinging to that fictional world, wishing I didn’t have to leave. Books like these are rare for me, and I’m still marveling at the miracle of finding that book that in Arcturus’ words, exists for everyone: “a book that will sing to them.”

#the mask falling #the bone season #arcturus and paige #warden and paige #the mask falling spoilers #spoilers #review #otp #Samantha Shannon

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softplacepod · 4 years

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Episode 2: Volcano Day

Show notes & transcript below the cut.

SHOW NOTES:

“The Fires of Pompeii,” Doctor Who. S4E2 (2008) - https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1173173/

“Absolute Candor,” Picard. S1E4 (2020) - https://www.imdb.com/title/tt9420280/

Dragon Age: Inquisition (2014) - https://www.ea.com/games/dragon-age/dragon-age-inquisition

TRANSCRIPT:

EP 2:

Hello, bees. It's me, Sara, sending you light and love, and also a bunch of things I've been super into lately that I think might be your jam. Welcome to A Soft Place to Land.

[music]

Item the first: theories of time travel

Or, the futile, the fixable, and the flexible.

Most fiction that uses time travel as a device has to face the inevitable question: can a person or group acting in the past make change that affects the “present” of the story, or the future? Reminder that when talking about time travel tenses can get weird, so fair warning. There are, uh, let’s say a million ways to work out how exactly past meddling can change a story’s present or future, but for me they all eventually boil down to three ideas: futile, fixable, flexible.

Futile stories are ones where you can travel back and make all the changes you wish: step on that butterfly, kill your great-grandfather, release or don’t release the monkeys. It’s going to be the same anyway. You’ll find that you are the reason the plague gets released, or you luckily killed the wrong person, or you managed to slow the train just enough that the person running to catch it did, in fact, catch it. You’re responsible for the present you came from, and it would have happened regardless.

Then there are fixable stories, where you can in fact make a difference in the present you left. Butterfly effect may be in full force, so your sneezing in the past wipes out all life on the planet. Your every action, your very presence, sends out ripple effects that, once you return to your present, will have spiraled out into results you could never have predicted. You go back in time to watch Vesuvius erupt, and you return to a world in which super-intelligent squid rule from their orbital space stations. You change the world, not because you necessarily want to, not in the ways you wanted to, by even peeking at the past.

And then, my personal favorite, the flexible. This is the idea that you can in fact change things in the past, in the short term. You can make change that feels huge and monumental, and you can return to your time - and yet, it’s the same as it was when you left. The names are a little different, the dates a little off, but the setting is what it was before, or maybe slightly worse. Time is like a rubber band, and you can stretch and pull and twist and fiddle with it, but it will snap back over and over again, to roughly the same shape it was before.

And the reason I’m talking about this is that I tend to root for fiction in which time and history matter, in which our actions and our protagonists’ actions have merit and agency and can change things.

Item the second: “The Fires of Pompeii”

Or, fixed points in time

There is, I suppose, another option. In the 2008 Doctor Who episode “The Fires of Pompeii,” the Doctor - I’m assuming here you have a passing familiarity with the conceit of Doctor Who, but if not, think time-traveling alien and a human companion - the Doctor explains that there are things in time that can change. Lots of them! But, too, there are fixed points in time, things that must happen, that will happen, regardless. The destruction of Pompeii, it becomes clear over the course of the episode, is one of those fixed points, and eventually the Doctor’s companion, Donna Noble, one of my favorite fictional characters of all time, comes to accept that. There is nothing she can do, nothing they can do together, to stop the eruption; in fact, they cause it, and must cause it, and always had caused it.

But.

But Donna, understanding and accepting that, eventually, insists and pleads and orders and begs the Doctor: save someone. Save one person. Save anyone, someone, just one person from this fate. The event has to happen, is happening around them, and they can’t stop it, but they can save one person. And so he does, and they do. They save a family, and then they leave.

It could seem callous, and sometimes it does: this family is saved but all the others are left to die. But these days, I’m starting to see it more as a gesture of defiance. Events around us are huge and crushing, and more often than not there’s not a thing I or you or hundreds of us could do about it. We can’t force huge corporations to stop global warming, we can’t force the prison-industrial complex to change their raison d’etre to restorative justice, we can’t force our lawmakers to respect and support marginalized people and their rights.

But.

But we can try. This may not be a fixed point. This may be something we can still change. And if it is a fixed point, a thing that is happening and will happen and will always have happened, we can save one person. We can save one family. We can make our anger known and we can lift people one at a time into an escape route. We can’t do the big thing, but we can do the small thing.

If history’s going to be the shape it’s going to be, I choose to believe that we can and should work to fill the shape in with our small actions. Protests that get shut down, petitions that get thrown in the trash, votes that get ignored: they’re still there. They still happened. One person, here on volcano day. And then another. And then another.

Item the third: Picard

Or, the weight of choices you regret

There’s a scene in the fourth episode of Picard, the series, or a sequence of scenes, set in a place that’s become something of a Romulan refugee camp slash reservation. The titular Picard is responsible for its founding, and has not been back for some years, and returns to find it has drastically changed in his absence. He speaks with a woman who’d been something of a friend, seeks an explanation for why, suddenly to him but gradually to the people there, the place is now hostile and struggling, full of anger and need. She points out, quite rightly, that he founded this place and then left, never once checking in or following up. “Because you could not save everyone, you chose to save no one,” she says, in an absolutely devastating line delivered with no recrimination, no anger.

Picard, in that moment, looks shaken, and while he doesn’t react well to it - starting a bar fight, yelling, then some other stuff happens and then Seven of Nine shows up, which is great - it’s still a moment that, in the context we’re looking at right now, means so much to me.

If we believe that our choices matter, and we believe that there are forces and powers larger than us that control more of the world than we could ever hope to, it’s so immediately and irrevocably easy to slip into despair. My recycling won’t stop global warming, won’t even make a dent, why try? The carceral system is a money-making juggernaut and a hundred protesters won’t make any difference, so why go and risk arrest?

And I get it. And I feel that way, so much of the time these days. But.

But, because we can’t save everyone, we have to try and save someone. Because we can’t stop the volcano, we have to pull out the three people we can reach right now.

Otherwise, and I say this with total self-accusation, we are part of the problem. We are part of the problem anyway, but if we can help one person and we don’t, pointing to the larger systemic issue we feel powerless against, we fail not only that one person, but also ourselves, and the truth at the heart of where I’m aiming: that you and here and now and this moment, this small choice, do in fact make a difference.

Item the final: Dragon Age: Inquisition

Or, the echoes of choice up and down the timeline

There is a moment - there are dozens of moments - in this video game, with which I have become ever more obsessed lately, where you are given meaningful choices. You’re talking to, say, the Iron Bull, a huge horned mercenary, and his company is in danger, and you have choices. You can tell him to abandon his men and preserve an important alliance for the organization you represent. Or you can tell him to save his men and scuttle the alliance.

The game makes it clear: there are upsides and downsides to either choice. It differentiates this kind of choice, the irrevocable kind, by making the dialogue wheel a different color, and by summarizing the immediate effect of your choice as you hover over each option.

But I submit, and here’s where we’ll close, that it’s just as important when you choose smaller things. Choosing a kinder justice when faced with a prisoner. Choosing to laugh with your friends around a card game. Choosing to welcome someone to join you, despite their style or race or abilities or past. These choices shape the game, shape your relationships and the options you have, and the ending crawl, where you see how your people have fared, well. It’s all your choices writ large.

And there are, always and always, ripple effects you couldn’t have predicted. Your continued emphasis on careful planning nudges a character’s vigilante justice group toward effectiveness. Your open heart shows a reformed murderer the power they might have to help others in the same position. Your support for a character fighting an addiction shows them a way forward free from something that hurt them. On and on, the smallest choices building into a snowball.

There’s no ideal condition, really: the game knows you can’t save everyone and everything, knows that loss, too, is important and true. But you can, in this game and the best games and fiction and also your life, decide to treat each choice like it really matters.

The temptation can be to freeze, when faced with the reality that your choices matter. There are too many ways to screw this up, there’s one right answer and if I choose wrong I’m toast and I’ve lost.

Well, no. There’s not really right or wrong answers in most cases. There are different aspects you can choose to emphasize, there are myriad paths you can walk, there are branches that end at the same place. But the more rooted you are in the belief that you can choose, that your choices make a difference, that you can make a choice and continue to make choices about how to deal with that choice, well. Hopefully we learn to see not danger but opportunity, not a failure point but an inflection point. A chance to course correct, to right a wrong, to steady a ship, to open a hand.

You can choose an open heart, a restorative justice, a support role, a championing of what matters most to you. And you can watch, slow but sure, the repeated choices you make (always mercy, always hope, always justice, always laughter, always truth) begin to echo up and down the timeline. You can’t change the decisions you already made, but you can try to change the ones you’ll make tomorrow. You can’t change the effects you’ve already created, but you can try to mitigate and shape them into something better. You can’t control anyone but yourself (in real life), but you can encourage them, and create a space for them, and show them other ways to choose.

And if we see only wrong choices, only harmful outcomes, maybe we do our best to pick the least bad, and to keep choosing the least bad, shaping the ripples as best we can. Maybe we can work our way back up the chain to a crossroads, and try another fork this time. Every dialogue choice has an effect, even if it’s only for a moment. We can, most of the time, repair the damage we’ve done, or soften it, or simply acknowledge and apologize and do our very best to do better with our next choice.

[music]

Theme music for A Soft Place to Land is “Repose,” by Chase Miller, off his album Burnout. Chase’s music can be found at chasemiller.bandcamp.com. Show notes and episode transcripts are at softplacepod.tumblr.com. You can find me on Twitter @cyranoh_ and you can listen to me jabber on as the foil to my very good friend Anna on our parenting podcast, The Parent Rap, at parentrap.net.

I love you very much. Take care of yourselves. See you soon.

[music]

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shawnallenblog · 7 years

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Fatum: Life's sublime plan ?

"Life is not merely a series of meaningless accidents or coincidences, but rather it is a tapestry of events that culminate in an exquisite, sublime plan."

"Jonathan Trager, prominent television producer for ESPN, died last night from complications of losing his soul mate, and his fiancee. He was 35 years old. Soft-spoken and obsessive, Trager never looked the part of a hopeless romantic. But, in the final days of his life, he revealed an unknown side of his psyche. This hidden quasi-Jungian persona surfaced during the Agatha Christie-like pursuit of his long reputed soul mate, a woman whom he only spent a few precious hours with. Sadly, the protracted search ended late Saturday night in complete and utter failure. Yet even in certain defeat, the courageous Trager secretly clung to the belief that life is not merely a series of meaningless accidents or coincidences. Oh no, but rather, its a tapestry of events that culminate in an exquisite, sublime plan. Asked about the loss of his dear friend, Dean Kansky, the Pulitzer Prize-winning author and executive editor of the New York Times, described Jonathan as a changed man in the last days of his life. "Things were clearer for him," Kansky noted. Ultimately Jonathan concluded that if we are to live life in harmony with the universe, we must all possess a powerful faith in what the ancients used to call "fatum", what we currently refer to as destiny." -Dean's speech, From the movie Serendipity:

Did the Greeks have obituaries ? This movie alleges that the Greeks only asked one question after a man died, "Did he have passion ?" Whether this was true remains to be proven, but it is a beautiful, simple, way to hold the light up to our lives. It seems simple, we either live with passion, or we do not. Ultimately, if we look in the mirror, we know whether we are succeeding or failing at this enormous task. We may try to lie to ourselves, but the truth always tugs at our heart, knowing if we are fulfilling our lives passionately or merely just ticking away our days. Make no mistake, in the end, this truth will surface in our last hours. We will either feel deep regret and remorse, or we will breathe peacefully, knowing we did most of what we wanted and needed to do. We will know if we righted our wrongs, climbed our highest personal mountains, and fought passionately for the things in our lives that meant the most to us. These are the things that will answer the question, "Did we live with passion".

It has been said by many that death is the great equalizer. I do not believe this to be true. What we did in our lives, the principles by which we lived, are what will define us. Though we will all end in the same state after those last brainwaves, not everyone will have ended equally. It is the principles we held up strongly, the ethics and morals we stood for, the lives we touched and changed and how passionately we loved that will have defined us in the end. Those are the things that live on, that can be reflected on by the living, and possibly impact those lives in turn in a meaningful way. People will remember how you made them feel, even if it was the smallest of gestures that impacted them profoundly, sometimes for the rest of their lives. That is the stuff that matters.

"Life is not merely a series of meaningless accidents or coincidences, but rather it is a tapestry of events that culminate in an exquisite, sublime plan."

Those little things we all do in our days, those things that might seem meaningless and trivial yet have even the slightest flavor of being of lesser high-character, are part of our life's tapestry and define the trajectory of our lives moving forward. If we are being honest with ourselves, we are occasionally confronted with small, perhaps softly moral-corrupting, choices. These seemingly trivial choices, things that no one will ever know about, are critical threads of our lives. What we do in those moments, these threads, the choice to take the low road or the high road, knowing only we will know the details of facts and the moment, these are the things that define us. These are the weak or strong threads we weave into our personal tapestry that define the moral and ethical trajectory and longevity of our brief existence. After our final breath, we cannot reweave our life's choices, its' integrity and longevity can only be defined by how well we wove it while we were here. How we will be remembered, by those we touched and loved, will be defined by how well we wove the pains, pleasures, kindness, challenges, confrontations, mistakes and of course the other good stuff, during our lives while we were here.

Fatum, passion, fill your life with them. Weave only the good stuff into your life's tapestry, but equally as important, pull out the weak threads you have left woven into your life, and replace them with the threads you can be proud of. We still have time to reweave the fragile threads we've left that fester in our conscience, they are the same ones we leave festering in the hearts of others. Clean up these things, and then fight passionately for the things you believe in, and never give up, not even for a day. For, in the end, you can have no regrets . . . . after all, the problem is, we think we have time.

youtube

- Shawn

A final thought for the reader,

I write for me, and me alone. However, I share what I write because if there is any possibility that my words can reach just one person with similar woes, perhaps it can re-weave more than one tapestry and change more lives exponentially than my own. I write about the things in life that I question, things that vex me, tear at me, twist me, things that bounce around my mind and leave me without peace and clarity. I choose to write about them when they grow, it is a manner of final confrontation to silence them by finding honest meaning in them. I do this in the great hopes that in my final days my last breath can be a peaceful exhale, and not an anxious final gripping and denying struggle for the things I denied resolving. This fear fuels my life, may it fuel yours as well.

As Hunter Thompson was once quoted, "One of the few ways I can almost be certain I'll understand something is by sitting down and writing about it. Because by forcing yourself to write about it and putting it down in words, you can't avoid having to come to grips with it. You might be wrong, but you have to think about it very intensely to write about it. So I use writing as a learning tool. "

*All quotes are from the movie, Serendipity. Not a 5star movie in the least, but one that had a few quotes that resonated with me many moons ago, ones I wrote down and tucked away, until it was time to put them to a more formal written piece; a time when I could make more meaning from them. For those who care to see the movie clip, here is the link: http://youtu.be/hkXumOkoFSI

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